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Saturay, June 29th. 3:23 PM.

At precisely three PM, a massive celebration was to take place. A celebration that was advertised for several months. It was the annual Verthaven Summer festival! To start off a new wondrous summer that should be full of hope and optimism. Hosted in the Downtown section, the roads were full of people, and various vendors. Many of the streets had amusement part rides, and various other attractions for fun and game. The streets were paved with people, but those streets had a heavy police and NEST Presence. Everyone knew that a lot of Metahumans visited the Summer Festival. Which is why NEST, and the police, needed to maintain order above all else.

The sun was shining brightly, and the temperature was very warm.

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2:40 PM

The nozzle was turned and the wave of cold water splashed against Michelle's bare body. She let out a pleased sigh as the dark-blue shower stall, illuminated by the white light above them. She had a smile on her face as she ran her hands through her hair. Scrubbing a little bit of shampoo through her dreadlocks. The water reflected off her dark-skin, and she grabbing the washcloth and spread soap all over her body. This process was repeated until her body was clean. She turned the nozzle off, and the water stopped. Michelle turned around and pushed the stall door open, and took one small step onto the cold floor of the NEST shower room. She looked around - the room had navy-blue tiles, and several hallways full of locker rooms off to the right - and saw not a soul in there with her. The lockers were her destination. She walked up to the wall of lockers, and pulled open hers. It revealed her NEST uniform hanging. A black wetsuit, black combat pants with knee pads, and boots. She smirked as she looked down. Last but not least, her Barrett with the Captain symbol on top of it.

It wasn't long until Michelle got dressed up, she had on her NEST Uniform and looked like a soldier. She stood there for a moment, then adjusted her cap. She walked out of the shower room, opening the door with her strong hands. She pushed through the hall of the NEST Headquarters, and kept walking up - the more she walked, the more fellow NEST Agents she encountered. She gave them a friendly smile, but kept it moving. She wondered where Sam was. That sneaky bastard better not have been watching her take a shower again. She'd have to break his legs if he did that. Michelle cut a corner, and double-doors denoted her destination. She walked through the doors, and was greeted to a wall, with only a large window to look through it (There was a speaker), and a door off to the right. On the other side of the window was a young woman with blonde hair, and perky features. She smiled when she saw Michelle.

"Hey Captain Gallus." The woman greeted Michelle with a smile.

"Hey, Ariella," Michelle walked over to the window, and leaned up against the wall off to the side of the mirror. "They still got you working in the armory?"

"Yeah... They're still mad about what happened at the Fire Shoes..." Ariella scratched the back of her neck and smiled awkwardly. Before turning towards Michelle, and that awkward smile turned much more sincere. "At least they haven't fired me yet!" She laughed, before getting dead serious. "You're going to the Summer Fair?"

The Giant woman shrugged, "Got no choice, really." She smiled casually. "They assigned me to keep an eye on the Summer Fair. I'd love to be there on my off-time, you know, as a civilian, but you gotta follow your orders."

"True." Ariella said. "... Until you make the orders."

Both women shared a hearty laugh, before they stopped. "You gonna get your gear? You should hurry over to the van, Miranda will yell at you if you don't get there in time. Uh, don't worry about signing in your gear, I'll do that for you."

Michelle nodded her head, and pushed off the wall. She walked over to the door, and pushed in her keycard. The light flashed green, and Michelle pushed the door open. The NEST Armory... What a magnificent place to behold. Tons of guns and weaponry. Reserved for the best, after all. NEST only gets their best Agents to show up at this festival to look all mean in order to make sure nobody tries anything stupid. And they get the biggest, meanest agents out there to keep order. Looks like she's the toughest bitch they got. Only problem was that she would be standing on a corner while this wet-suit gives her swampass. Whatever. Michelle walked up to the locker, and pulled it open. Revealing her arsenal for today. It was her usual armaments. An AA-12 Auto-Shotgun, a Glock 17, and her taser. All painted jet-black, and have NEST logos on the side. Along with an armored vest, and a combat belt with two holsters. She put on the vest and belt first, before she hoisted the Shotgun over her shoulder with a strap, and placed the taser and the pistol into her holsters.

Michelle nodded her head. It was time for her to get a move on. Michelle ran out the doors until she was standing in the courtyard of the NEST Headquarters. The ominous tower looming over her. Her enhanced eyesight eyeballed a large black van with the NEST Logo on the side. She ran over to the van, and got inside, along with a group of what had to be eleven other NEST Agents, also seated. The doors were closed and the bus pushed forward.

Onto the Rosalina Isle.

3:43 PM

It wasn't long before the van dropped the group off, and they were given their patrol assignments. Michelle was given her assignment and walked off. The way NEST were set up here, was that they were positioned on different corners, with no NEST agent outside of sight of another. Michelle was set up on a corner, with her rifle's strap around her shoulder, going across her ample chest. Michelle stood at attention (And much higher than everyone else there, she stood out quite a bit). Waiting for whatever to spring up. She was hoping this would just be another boring meeting.

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It's not too late to turn back now, Fiona. All you have to do is turn around and walk away. The thoughts ran through Fiona's head as she stood onto the bridge to the Rosalina-Isle. The massive crowd of people was certainly intimidating. People that weren't going to be welcoming of a giant-ass Cricket-girl like her. Even though she was wearing a white cloak, Fiona was afraid to take another step forward and considered just turning back around and going back to Academy 218. Even though it hid what was underneath, this cloak made her stand out like a sore thumb, why couldn't she just meet her contact at night? Where? Her heart was racing, her eyes were wandering, scanning for her mystery contact. This was all a joke, Fiona. They were just trying to prank you.... She thought to herself again. Looking around. Fiona let out a sigh, and balled her fist, looking forward with a new found determination. You came this far, Barrett. You might as well see what happens. Fiona pumped herself up in her brain, and finally took that step.

Fiona stepped forward, and walked into the crowd of people - eventually disappearing into them. This was so disorienting! All the sounds, scents... It overwhelmed her senses. All the chattering and footsteps... it became one blob of sound that she couldn't differentiate anymore. She grabbed her head, a pain was rushing through her brain like someone was driving a hammer through it. She felt extremely nauseous, and collapsed to her knees - which was certainly attention grabbing. Since the crowds of people started staring at her. And she felt every. Single. One. Of. Them. She quickly gathered the strength to pull herself up to her feet, then shambled into an alleyway.

The moment she was out of sight, she knelt forward. Breathing heavily. She could still hear the people outside the alleyway, but it was less overwhelming. "I... can't do that again." This is why Fiona stayed away from large cities in the first place. It was so overwhelming. Fiona wiped a bit of spit off her face. She'd... have to stick to the shadows for a while.

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Jennifer sighed and looked around her room... It was hard getting sleep these days. This year, nothing has been going right for her lately. First her father died, and now she went through a near death experience and got superpowers against her will. She was laying down on her bed, wearing nothing but a white T-shirt and her glasses. Jenny scanned her room again - which was full of electronics, and the sorts, with a HDTV directly across from her bed, and underneath it, was a small shelf full of videogames - until her eyes rested onto her iPhone. She grabbed it and checked the time. It was three o'clock exactly. She wanted to put her head back down and go to sleep, but she had work to do. Jenny yawned as she put her hands over her head. She got up off the bed, and stretched. While she wanted to do nothing but give up, Jen had no choice but to bottle up her emotions and push on. She had a girl she needed to find (And a dog!). Though... she couldn't do that with her bum out. She needed to get some clothes on before she went out. Jenny walked over to the dresser and grabbed her outfit....

Jenny put on her outfit for today. A colorful T-shirt, and jean short-shorts that showed a lot of leg. Jen also had on black combat boots. She looked presentable enough today. Okay, her plan was to check the Summer Festival for Penny. Since she hasn't turned up any other leads so far. She wondered if Penny would be drawn to such a large event. Jennifer walked out of her room, and down the wooden stairs of her house. They were apart of the few clusters of families who owned houses in University Row. One of the nicer houses, actually. Though, Jennifer felt out of place here. A girl like her would love Knightdale Rows. Either way, the second she made contact with the last step, she looked to the left, and saw that the living room was empty. Figures, Justin, Cody, and Kaitlin were probably off enjoying their summer vacation playing out... Who was she kidding? They were all playing videogames in their friend's house. It was better than the atmosphere that they had at home. Because... Jennifer took a few steps and peaked around the corner, looking down the hallway.

Yup, mom's still there.

She still hasn't gotten over Dad. Jen mused, somberly. She couldn't say that she hasn't gotten over the death of her father herself... but she was handling it better than her mother. Where Jen was at least trying to move on, her mother seemed to have given up. Choosing to just sit down in the kitchen all day, drinking whiskey and any other alcohol. She hasn't cooked, or left the house in a while now. It was sad. A proud woman was reduced to this. All Jen would want to see was her mother pick herself back up. But, that was something she'd have to do on her own. For now, Jen has to focus on her own goals. "Mom, I'm going to go look for Pudding." She told her mother, who merely raised her bottle of whiskey and somberly grumbled.

That was permission enough - While Jen didn't like lying to her mother, in her current state, she didn't know how she'd take her actual mission. Especially since she was nearly killed that night, saved by a sheer stroke of luck. I wonder if I'll ever have to worry about surviving ever again.... She thought to herself as she walked out the front door, closing and locking the door behind her. With that, she was on her merry way. Jennifer had enough money in her pocket to get a bus ride up north. Jennifer walked a few blocks, until she came across a small glass bus stop. It was somewhat inhabited. A few college males. Probably couldn't afford a car, so they have to take the bus that'd get them into the Rosalina Isle. Where she would normally cower, she casually sat down on the bench. That was a new found confidence that came with her power. They didn't say a word to her. Which was great, since she didn't want to test the full capabilities of her physical buffs.

The bus uneventfully arrived, and the doors opened to accept Jennifer and the rest of the boys waiting here at the bus stop. She was the first to walk up the steps, and deposited her money. Before finding a seat all the way in the back of the bus. Which was vacant, but as the bus filled up, those once vacant seats were filled up. Being sandwiched between a very overweight woman, and a skinny man that looked like a member of the Fiends, was not a very comfortable position. Before she could even find another seat, they were taken too. .... Help.

This didn't last for long. After a good twenty or so minutes, she finally arrived Downtown. Where everyone quickly got off the bus - with Jennifer being the last gal off. She took some steps off, and looked around. Jesus, this place was crowded. Yet, she felt like this was where she needed to be. Jennifer sighed. This was all in the name of finding Penny. She walked into the crowd of people, and promptly disappeared.

Her eyes were always open for Penny.

-

Nekoda Uriah

The ringing fire alarm woke Nekoda out of a blissful sleep. She jolted out bed, unfazed by her nakedness as she hurried across the apartment toward the kitchen. She stopped in the doorway. Her heart slowed its rampant pace and her hands rubbed the sleepiness out of her eyes when she took in the scene. Her identical twin sister Davina was standing on a folding chair in the middle of the room as she attempted to waft the smoke that was being emitted from the pan on the stove away from the fire detector. Davina’s face broke into a wide grin when she saw Kody’s unamused glare. “Hey! Good morning!” she shouted over the wailing of the alarm. Kody ignored her, making her way to the stove to shut off the pan of crackling bacon. She turned back to her twin.

“This is karma,” she said, putting as much disdain in her voice as she could manage before she continued, “for your part in what happened to that poor animal.” Nekoda pointed toward the meat. She feinted an authoritative disappointment. “Think about what you’ve done.” She crossed her arms across her chest, trying to maintain her air of superiority while standing completely exposed. Davina continued to smile as she climbed down the chair and wrapped her arms around her sister.

“I’m sure it didn’t suffer. I mean, it was grass fed.” Her brilliant blue eyes sparkled, waiting for Kody to respond. The two of them had never managed to have a real argument in their life. They hadn’t always agreed - afterall, Kody was vegan and Davina was almost entirely a carnivore - but the bond they shared always superseded any sort of discord between them. Kody rolled her eyes but didn’t push her sister away. What a hopeless waste of an argument, she thought. Instead she wrapped her own arms around Davina and gave her a light squeeze. She pulled away.

“Say what you want,” she said, turning toward the fridge. She opened it and grabbed a bright yellow grapefruit. The chill from the fridge bit her skin but she barely noticed. She continued, “but I know this didn’t suffer.” She winked and left the kitchen, heading back toward her room to change. She came out minutes later, ready for the day. Her outfit was comfortable for the potential warm weather and for excessive walking. When she entered living room where Davina was, she frowned. Davina was dressed in her light blue scrubs. “I thought you were coming with me to the festival today.” Kody slumped onto the couch, throwing her legs over the arm rest. Davina hurried around the room, gathering various items. She grabbed her car keys out of the dish on the lamp stand before she answered.

“Sorry pretty girl, I have rounds this morning. But you should still go. Try to find a good lookin’ man.” She came over and kissed the top of Kody’s head. Nekoda smiled at the idea but didn’t say anything. Davina headed out the door but leaned back in before adding, “A man. Get one. I want nieces.” She shut the door before her sister could respond. Alone in the apartment, Kody prepared to spend the day doing the one thing she loved most in the world. Photography. She wanted to capture what she saw and felt about the festival in a picture. She finished her breakfast then began gathering her supplies. When she had collected them all, she put them in her bag and headed out of the apartment.

Andy and Selena Royal

The motorcycle idled in front of Springwater High School, nestled under the shade of a cluster of trees. The heat wasn't much of a nuisances (quietly, subtly, the warm air rolled out down his back) but given that he was wearing a jacket, cradling a helmet under one arm, it seemed natural that someone would park in the shade. That's what people naturally did when they were warm, wasn't it? And that was Andy. Natural. Completely.

He drummed his fingers against the throttle, humming softly to himself as he waited for baby sister. Probably talking to someone. Andy's brown furrowed a bit as he considered the possibility of her talking to any boys. Ugh. Too young for that. Far too young. Andy threw back the kickstand with the heel of his left foot and rested his legs on the front of the bike, leaning back a bit and admiring the quiet chaos that ensued at the end of a testing day. Saturday-so no school-but he'd cajoled Selena into taking the SAT. She came storming out the front doors, some hundred yards out, furious eyes scanning the parking lot. Andy considered just taking a few laps around the parking lot and letting her cool down.

He paused.

He really considered it.

He raised a hand to his ear and presumably flipped a Bluetooth on. "Over here. By the trees," He murmured. Selena's head turned, made awful, glaring eye-contact, and began coming his way. Andy appreciated the subtle irony of there now being absolutely no way she could talk to any guys. "Perhaps I should annoy her off more often," he mused.

"What the hell was that?" Selena whined, giving her brother a playful shove as she slid onto the back of the motorcycle. "Don't bother making me wear the helmet," she interrupted. "If I die-actually, no, give it to me, if I die right after taking that, I will be pretty pissed off. Gimme." she took the helmet and sidled it down over her head, for once not issuing up complaints about the effects the helmet had on her hair (complaints which were always met with the rebuttal of "Would you prefer to see the effects of asphalt on your skull?", which were met with the rebuttal of "Would you prefer to see the effects of my foot in your ass?". Repeat ad nauseum.)

"Where to?" Selena asked. "I'm feeling ice cream. Lots of ice cream."

"Summer festival," Andy replied, starting up the motorcycle. He let it rev to life for a moment before taking off-he kept it in pristine condition, but it just seemed prudent. He checked over his shoulder twice before pulling out, sidling into the road and going slow. The speed bumps were a bit jarring, but Andy's weight kept them from getting jostled about too much. Only good thing his dense ass did for that bike-he was changing the tires pretty often. Still, it saved on gasoline, and he was a careful enough driver to be confident that Selena wouldn't get hurt on it. Worth it.

He rolled to a complete stop, ("Nerd," Selena muttered) before turning and beginning to make his way towards the festival. It would be a bit of a drive, but this didn't bother Andy so much. Selena, on the other hand, wanted to be there-and Verthaven traffic on the day of the festival was not making things too terribly easy on her. She'd dressed for the weather, at least-blue jean cutoffs and a tanktop-which made the frequent traffic stops more palatable. Andy, as always, displayed his usual level of easygoing nonchalance. Selena closed her eyes, resting her helmeted head against Andy's shoulderblades for a few moments.

"Traffic's gonna take about fifteen minutes extra," Selena sighed. "I'd almost rather park out here and walk."

"Really? Well I suppose we cou-" Andy stopped abruptly, thinking to himself. "...no....wait. There's a Baskin-Robbins right around the corner, isn't there?"

"Damnit!" Selena said, leaning back on the bike for a moment. Andy jerked the bike forward just a hair, prompting a yelp and a frantic lunge forward from his little sister. "Asshole! Asshole!" she smacked him playfully and resigned herself to an immediate future devoid of ice cream. It was a terrifying and nihilistic prospect, but our Selena is a brave one, and they weaved through traffic (Andy stayed a solid three miles under the speed limit the entire trip, with the sole exception of when they passed by the ISD building, at which point Andy drove considerably faster, his eyes flickering nervously behind his sunglasses) without much difficulty. Downtown Verthaven was always a fun jaunt-not far from Andy and Selena's apartment in Las Palmas, there was plenty to do, and in relative safety. Relative being the keyword, there-for metas, Andy felt (as did Selena, although she was far too cocky to admit it, even to herself) there was no absolute safety.

Well, he thought, sliding off the bike and hooking the helmet over one of the handlebars, there was one way to ensure you never got bothered anymore. Wasn't an option he was quite willing to consider yet. Selena jumped off with far more enthusiasm than her older brother, surveying the labryinth of cars, motorcycles and bicycles alike that filled the parking lots. They'd tucked into a small spot on the side of the street, easy to get in and out of in a hurry. Not that Andy expected trouble-there were NEST agents and vanilla cops crawling all over the place. Selena walked close with Andy (the girl didn't admit to fear, not now and not ever, but she, shall we say, held a healthy respect for NEST operatives) as they made their way towards the festival, Selena's eyes drawn to the fresh-cooked treats displayed at every corner, Andy eyeing the art and trinkets.

"Meet back here in, say....two hours?" Andy asked. Selena raised an eyebrow.

"Look at you, letting me wander off on my won. You going soft?" she asked, giving him another playful shove. "You want me to wear a leash? Or should I text you every five minutes? How about-"

Andy rolled his eyes and walked off, which was generally an effective method for handling Selena's comments. He nodded to a NEST officer stationed on a corner, a tall and broadly built woman carrying a shotgun. He glanced at it for a moment-AA-12. Glock on her waist. Taser. Hm. He didn't let his gaze linger-didn't want them thinking he was looking for any trouble, but he couldn't resist a bit of childlike curiosity for firearms. Andy would've owned a few (and with good reason-the streets of Verthaven were dangerous, and he was confident in his abilities to use them without collateral damage) save for the cost and legality. Still, they were machines, honed to cause chaos, but capable of being used for things like protecting little sisters. He appreciated that. Andy strolled down the Verthaven streets, a casual walk that lingered at every vendor, looking over all they had to offer. He stopped at one selling paintings-a dozen or so watercolors, mostly of the beach, a few of Verthaven's more noteworthy sites. One captured Las Palmas in all its casino-ridden splendor. He smiled softly, watching what else they had to offer.

Selena, meanwhile, crossed the street, snapping her back left and right far too quickly to notice if any cars were actually coming before jogging through ("HONK HONK!" "SORRY!") and coming to a stop at a Greek vendor. Gyros. She didn't really know what a gyro was, but it smelled absolutely delicious. Food was something Selena enjoyed, moreso than the normal teenager already did-given Andy's...rather...nonexistent eating habits, food was almost something private to her. He never really objected to what she ate, which had led to young Selena becoming quite the cook. With nobody else around, she figured if she wanted to eat well, she'd have to learn how to cook well. It was a bit depressing, at times, not ever having anybody to cook for, save herself, but still-food's food. She emptied her pockets of money, ordered whatever the hell a gyro was, and stood to the side, eagerly awaiting a well-deserved treat after three hours and forty five minutes of hell. She glanced around, looking at everyone and everything. It brimmed with energy-a few familiar faces, school friends mostly, darted in and out of the crowd. Handful of cute guys. She saw Andy a few hundred feet away, staring at some boring ass paintings, which was about how on-par for the course. Selena mapped out her next moves, figuring she could walk and eat at the same time, seeing what all they had. There were some improv guys, she thought, somewhere around here. Or maybe some of those carnival games. She'd get Andy to go win her some cheap shit if that was the case. After a few minutes she accepted her gyro and, walking and gnawing simultaneously, she followed down the other side of the street, observing everything Verthaven's most bitchin' festival had to offer.

"I can make so many Mario jokes about this place," said Ratchet. "The name simply begs for Mario jokes."

Ratchet spun around on her roller blades, waiting for her cousin and younger brother to catch up. Not everybody had power over kinetic energy like she did. "Come on! Gotta go fast, Sanic speed!" Ratchet urged.

"We don't all have wheels like you do," Winston, her brother, whined.

"Maybe if you didn't spend so much time on the PC you'd be in a bit more shape to keep up!" Ratchet teased.

"Shut up!" Winston protested.

Ratchet turned around and continued on her way. She pushed some hair out of her face with her wheel-hand, before looking back to check on the other two.

Ratchet felt that her summer vacation was off to a good start. She always loved seeing her aunt and her cousin Kate. On top of that, Kate offers an actual challenge when playing Mario Kart (Winston is only good at MMOs).

Ratchet turned to the left and stopped at the edge, leaning on the metal railing and placing her elbows upon the cold steel. She waited for her sibling and cousin again. She wondered if she should get them their own pairs of roller blades.

"So, how was your spring semester?" Kate asked, finally catching up to Ratchet.

"Pretty good, actually; I think I aced my AP tests, and I'm confident about most of my finals. Don't ask," Ratchet replied. "Other than that, I got the field show music; I got a pretty cool solo part on trumpet."

"Is it hard playing trumpet with one hand?"

"Not really," Ratchet said, pushing off the rail and slowing her pace to match Kate's. "I know how to bend my pitch so that intonation doesn't get too out of hand."

"Oh my God. Injae, I will slap you."

Ratchet laughed. "I wasn't made section leader of the marching band trumpets for no reason," she continued. She changed into an elevated, ridiculously pompous faux-British tone. "Huh-huh, that maketh me the best trumpeter in yon marching ensemble."

Kate laughed. "And how's your brother?"

"He's gitten gud at League," Ratchet replied. "I think he's working on using Katalina or whatever her name is."

"Katarina," Winston said indignantly. "I don't mispronounce any Nintendo characters, do I?"

"But there are so many chamPokémon that aren't relevant in the current meta," Ratchet replied.

"I remember Ledian," Winston muttered. "I remember all your characters' names."

"Okay, name ever Xenoblade character in the game," Ratchet declared, folding her arms. (She herself probably couldn't, but that didn't matter.)

"Shulk, Fiora... Um, Ri...ki...? Metalface?"

"I'm sure there are more," Kate pointed out.

"You always side with her," Winston whined, pouting.

-

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@Mr Allen J

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Sam Clarke sat leaning against the side of an Asian food truck, eating the best Pad Thai he'd ever had with a plastic spork. He hadn't eaten since early in the morning before his morning run, and about now he was starving. He was dressed in his uniform; black NEST tactical gear with the KINGFISHER logo on the sides. Unlike the other officers who were stationed around the fair, Sam's job was to stay on the inside and monitor any suspicious behavior. This was a cakewalk for an invisible man.

Even now as he ate he was invisible, as many citizens didn't feel comfortable seeing a NEST officer appear to not be doing his job. Technically, he should have been walking around following suspicious people, but Pad Thai was really good and the guy ordering wontons was definitely suspicious-looking. Middle-aged man, bald with a dark goatee, looked a little like Walter white minus the glasses and intelligence. Sam could've sworn he'd seen the guy before. Upon receiving his wontons, the man walked over to a wooden picnic table and sat down with his family, a blonde-haired wife, a teenaged girl, and a young boy.

Suspicion nullified. Sam thought to himself as he ate. He'd seen some messed up shit in his years, but no combatant had ever brought their kids into the warzone. Sam finished eating and tossed the plastic bowl into the trashcan. He began to walk through the crowd, occasionally bumping people only for them to find that no one was there. Moving through crowds was quite the challenge for Sam, but over the years he'd learned how to do it right. The trick was to move with the flow of traffic and be sure to avoid anyone moving the wrong way. Still, though, Sam bumped several people, including a very obnoxious overweight man who nearly shoved Sam into a baby stroller. Sam tripped the fat man and laughed as he fell face-first into someone's gyro, getting a nice big Tzatziki mustache.

When Sam approached the edge of the fair, he ducked behind a car and became visible. Out here, he looked like he was doing his job. He pulled out his phone to text his wife, but before he could touch a button he saw someone running from out of the crowd into an alleyway. He was going to ignore it, but then Sam had second thoughts; that was a bit of an oddly-shaped silhouette. Grumbling, he put his phone away in his pocket and walked over to the alley, his arms crossed sternly. There was a curry stain on his vest. Fuck. He approached the person in question (who was quite well-concealed) and said in an authoritative voice:

"Is everything alright here?"

---

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Eva always loved going to the fair. Though it was crowded and polluted, she always met the nicest people and had the best conversations. She parked her green Nissan Leaf as close as she could get it (about three blocks away) and then stepped out, her Pointer, Orion, following her. Whenever she went outside, the dog tended to follow her out of the door, and he was so good at looking pathetic that she couldn't help but let him come with her. He was like an annoying-yet-adorable little kid. She wished that she could have taken Goliath with her, but after the last time she brought an iguana the size of a beagle into a large crowd, she figured it would be a better idea for him to stay home.

As she clipped a leash to Orion's collar, he barked.

"We're in public, Orion. There's an ordinance against having dogs without a leash." Another bark.

"Do you want to go back to the pound, Orion?" Eva said a little more sternly. The dog whimpered and looked down "That's better."

They began to walk down the sidewalk, towards the fair. As they walked, Eva busied herself by pointing at flower buds and watching them flutter open in rainbows of color. She stopped to touch a sick-looking maple tree which lined the road and it perked up immediately, its leaves turning a vibrant green. The smell of maple wafted past her nose, an arboreal "thank you". Orion lifted his leg and urinated, and the maple smell vanished.

"You'd think the tree would be more thankful for that nitrogenous waste" Eva said to herself. Soon they were at the fair, and the smells of dozens of food vendors filled Orion's nose. Immediately he began to pull Eva to the hotdog stand, but she would have none of that.

"Do you know how bad all of that inorganic crap is for you?" Eva said, crouching down at the edge of the crowd. Orion barked back at her. It sounded insulting. Eva tossed her hair flippantly and half-dragged the dog away from the stand. She could hear his paws grinding on the pavement.

After walking through the crowd for about ten minutes, Eva finally broke down and bought poor Orion a chili dog. She herself just drank water. Fried food was among her least favorite things on the planet save cigarette smoke and slave labor. She sat down at a bench and the dog devoured the...dog.

"Glad you're enjoying your mystery meat" she seethed.

Anastasia Lytvyn

Anastasia, sweating softly under her jacket, had her attention evenly divided between where she suspected Sam Clarke was sitting and a small pigeon that was busy feasting upon the smorgasboard of discarded food. When the festival came to town, the birds had trouble flying for the next few days, that much was certain. She watched the little guy with a quiet smile, testing herself on his genus, phylum. She couldn't remember the latter, but didn't feel too bad-she stuck more to songbirds. They were beautiful, and resonated in a...want what you can't have sort of way. Sipping (more quickly than normal-Anastasia was used to colder weather, and with that, cold weather clothes. This damned summer heat was not appreciated, and she hadn't yet had the time to assemble a new wardrobe that was more practical. She'd suffer the heat for now) on an iced coffee, she returned her focus to the spot that shimmered a few moments ago. Anastasia was not gifted with supervision-well, her sense of sight was sharper, but not enough to pierce Mr. Clarke's little veil. No, she merely had experience, which was worth far more than any preternatural ability genes could bestow. She knew what to look for, and she knew where to watch. Her guess had been off by a few feet when he finally re-materialized, but it was close enough for her to feel a touch of smugness. Don't get cocky now, dear. These boys-this whole city-is dangerous. Anastasia frowned, soft pale features twisting up as she heard the tell-tale slurping of an empty cup. Damn. This iced coffee wasn't quite as popular back home-she rather liked it, having endured a grueling career of poorly made, name-brand black coffee. One day I'll open up a coffee shop. This notched onto the increasingly long list of "Things Anastasia Lytvyn Will One Day Do". Still, she was young (relatively) and had some capital. Starbucks had better stay on its toes.

Grabbing the small backpack next to her (one that weighed, perhaps, more than you would expect a small pack to) and slinging it casually over her shoulders, Anastasia threw the cup away, gently placing it on the top of an overflowing mountain of trash. She pitied the trash collectors come tomorrow morning. This was certainly an interesting festival-and an interesting city. Lots to buy, lots to do. She could stay here a little while. Of course, if this job (and Anastasia still wasn't sure how she felt about signing on with KINGFISHER, of working with an organization that seemed a little too like NEST, a little too like the meta-regulatory-on-paper-, political-wetworks-in-practice group she'd come running from) came through, perhaps Verthaven would be home. At least for a while.

Nomads have more fun than the rest of us. For a while.

She crossed the street, pausing wholly before smoothly and briskly gliding across the asphalt (some young thing sprinted right past her, not looking either way-careless, these American children). She looked at Michelle, standing watch. Alert, focused. Anastasia watched her for a moment, head tilted to the side, a strange mix of cute features and harsh scars. Little soldier with your gun. What're you fighting for? Or maybe, I wonder, who? To put it bluntly, Anastasia had not exactly seen a great multitude of African-Americans in her life (not far from the Caucasus, this was, perhaps understandable), and had never seen a woman this tall or muscular. With NEST? She hadn't quite made up her mind about America's superhuman agency yet. It certainly seemed more on-the-level than Russia's, but she was tentative of the West. For now, she'd stay out of their way, which was generally how Anastasia preferred to do business. She was quiet, in every possible sense, and if there was anything NEST excelled at it, it was being loud.

Anastasia slipped past a goateed man and stood near the line of the Pad Thai restaurant, designer sunglasses masking her icy blue eyes. She arched her head up, seemingly gazing at the menu while keeping an eye on Clarke. There was a figure, slightly ominous and entirely out of place (Makes two of us, little darling), standing in the alleyway. Were she law enforcement, she would've expected a drug dealer, a terrorist sizing up a crowd for a pipe bomb. But Anastasia was not law enforcement, not yet. At the moment, she was in a more grey occupation, and as such, she merely expected a trap. Officers, bless their souls, were rather predictable once one left the agency, looked at them from the outside. To the average onlooker, perhaps it seems impossible that criminals can evade the police. It's more of a never-ending struggle: neither exists without the other. They simply fill the void, chasing round and round...

Contemplating the sort of cycle that would make Hegel weary, she did her best to stay on-guard, ready to spring into whatever action she could muster. This harsh daylight was irritating her, and not merely because of her jacket and heavy (if stylish!) jeans. She had a GSh tucked within her coat, concealed well. A dagger tucked in the boots. Her hands and forearms began to tense and tingle, burning with that energy that always came before a job. She'd practiced, and experience was nudging at her, wanting to coax her hands through the old motions. But no, that wouldn't be necessary. Wouldn't be necessary at all. Because Mr. Clarke and the mystery cloak wouldn't get into any trouble whatsoever.

It was that sort of optimism that got people killed, Anastasia figured. Ah. She continued, attention split once again, but this time between the Pad Thai food and her potential coworker. While she didn't want to risk distracting him and getting him caught off-guard, she figured a heads-up wouldn't be amiss. Anastasia reached into her pocket and pulled out a track phone, the sort that, ironically, got sold a lot in Verthaven for entirely different reasons (or maybe Anastasia wasn't too far off from the drug dealers). She punched out a quick message to Sam-I'm close if needed., ran it over once or twice-she'd been paying for some pretty high-quality English lessons, and learned a bit while she was back home, but wanted to be sure. She punched send and slid it back into her phone, watching Fiona surreptitiously. If she was Fiona, she'd jump when (and if) Sam checked his phone. If she was Sam, she wouldn't check her phone. Fun games for car rides-Anastasia was full of them.

---

_@ToadRopes

---

Marching through the waves of people - with little goal at this point, honestly - Jenny kept her goal in mind; finding Penny. She honestly didn't know if this endeavor would turn out to be pointless or not. Well, at least she would get out of the house for awhile. Just like Mom wants. Before she could continue, a group of three kids zipped past her on roller scales. "Oh!" Jen yipped as she came to a sudden stop. She couldn't get a good look at them - and she knew the same went for them - but she watched them as they continued. Oblivious to her existence. Jennifer would have simply walked off and forgot about them, if it wasn't for what happened next.

Ratchet was approaching a group of three people, or aiming to go by them. They wouldn't simply allow that. A woman, covered in tattoos, shoved Ratchet with one hand - which was enough to knock her own given the fact she was on roller blades. The woman, with blonde hair styled into a wild pixie-cut, was most likely twenty years old. She squat down, and looked Ratchet in the face. "Oh, sorry there, sweetheart," She used a sarcastic sincerity - anyone with some amount of social skills would see through it. "I just thought I'd tell you to get your yellow-ass right back into the rice shop, okay?" The two teens she was with formed a wall to block Winston and Kate - almost like they were inviting them to attack.

Iron Cross. The thought just popped in her mind. They have to be Iron Cross. The tattoos and blatant racism gave it away. Jen heard plenty of them, and while they never personally bothered her (Or ever will), she hated them. She was wondering why they would do this in the middle of the fair. With this many cops and people here, it'd be downright idiotic to do this - but it seemed like they were just picking on kids. What did you honestly have to gain from this? Jen thought to herself as she looked around. There were people watching. Watching. Not doing anything. It... was insane. People just letting things like this go by.

They expected someone else to do something, didn't they? She gulped as she took steps towards them. Jenny wasn't a warrior. Oh no. Only place she was a warrior is in her videogames. Even if factored in her powers, she'd still get her ass kicked (She's never been in a real fight before - at least she wouldn't hurt for too long). She needed to come at this from a different angle. She was standing right over them. I could use that different angle right now. She thought to herself, gulping again. Jen stood over them, "H-hey, leave her alone." She said - honestly wishing that she could come up with something a bit more intimidating.

The woman looked up at Jen, "Oh, what are you going to do if I don't...?"

Christ, she's terrified, but her need to help Ratchet was stronger. "Do you know how many people are here, watching this? If one person goes to the police, and says you're Iron Cross, they'll bust the three of you without a second thought." "Just... leave them alone." Jennifer looked between Ratchet, Winston, Kate, and the Iron Cross members.

She hoped this work.

---

_@Maxx

---

"Is everything alright here?"

Footsteps approaching behind her made Fiona stand up stiff as a stick. Who...? Fiona thought to herself as she turned around, and looked at the man. Honestly expecting to find out that he was a member of the Pure, or something. But no, he was a NEST Agent. She's seen quite a few NEST agents in her life, so she knew one when she saw one. The armor and LOGO gave it all away. Suddenly, she felt a lot more... secure. Yeah, that was it. In this alleyway, where no one can really see her, with a NEST Agent. He probably thought she was suspicious, like a terrorist! God she's stupid! Maybe... showing him what's underneath the cloak will assure him that she has a reason to wear this. Fiona put her course hands on each side of the hood, and flicked it backwards. Revealing her insectoid face. Her eyes, mandibles, and antennae poking off her forehead. Along with her thick, bushy, head of orange-hair. That was when she nodded, "Um.... Yeah, everything's fine. I'm... just not used to places like this."

Still, she felt uneasy around him. Like she did something wrong. "You're a NEST Agent, right?" She asked... "I'm Fiona Barrett, if you look me up in the database, you'll see that I'm fully registered, and everything." She said, with a nod of her head, rather defensively. Since, far as they can tell, Sam might have interpreted her as a rogue Metahuman. She scratched the back of her head, with her head tilting downwards towards the side. Okay, maybe it looked like she was talking a bit too much.

---

Winston threw his hands into the air. "I don't have time for this, sis! Aren't we going to the summer festival?"

Ratchet rolled her eyes. "No, we're going to the corn-hucking contest in the middle of Kansas," she drawled sarcastically, pushing off the rail and coasting on her rollerblades. "Now, I don't want to have to wait for you kids," she continued, taking on an exaggeratedly-patronizing tone while looking at her younger family members. "If we're going to--"

Ratchet's speech was abruptly cut short by a young woman's tattooed arm. Ratchet yelped, wobbling backwards on her wheels for a bit, flailing her arms to maintain her balance, and ultimately failing. She hit the concrete with a nasty-sounding scrape. Her fiberglass forearm made an unpleasant grinding noise. Winston's and Kate's faces instantly contorted into an expression of horror. The black rubber wheels on Ratchet's roller blades were still whirling. Thankfully, Ratchet's overalls protected her legs from a bleeding asphalt-burn, but the emotional damage was still pretty bad. Ratchet stared up in shock, then indignance, then fury.

"Oh, sorry there, sweetheart," said the white-ass BITCH woman who knocked her down. "I just thought I'd tell you to get your yellow-ass right back into the rice shop, okay?"

Hello?! Ratchet was a first-generation Korean-American, born and raised here in the U.S.A.! Ratchet felt the fury of a thousand shofus disrespected in Pokémon Insurgence. Apparently it showed on her face as well; Korean females are well-known for having rather short fuses. Kate and Winston looked at each other in mortification before backing away from Ratchet, and from the other Iron Cross members who shot the other two children some aggressive glares. Ratchet gnashed her teeth and got right back up, not even daring to touch this white trash. She could think of a million things to say. She definitely wanted to ram her flywheel into that woman's bigoted face and make a witty retort like "Well, then you get your pasty white ass back to the potato farm, you dumb Mick!"

Before she could open her mouth to explode, however, Jenny restored Ratchet's faith in western civilization. Ratchet breathed a sigh of relief; she wouldn't have to go full Newton on these jerkwads. As Jenny talked down the woman who pushed her to the floor, Ratchet ushered her cousin and sibling away from the other two Iron Cross fellows. "Sweet Lord Helix," Ratchet muttered under her breath, before hissing several profanities that she didn't want Kate to hear. "Scratched my..."

Ratchet turned around and mouthed "Thank you," to Jenny.

"Thank God that not all white people are complete asswipes," Ratchet grudgingly muttered, "and that those who are, are in the minority. Goddam Westboro Ku-Klux hmgfhrmgmfghmm..."

Kate waved her hands frantically before her. "Injae, I don't know if they can hear you or not!" she hissed.

"Oh, let 'em hear, I'll punch my wheel into their guts one by one," Ratchet grumbled.

"You realize that's not exactly legal, right?" Winston asked.

"Screw that." But Ratchet didn't act. She really didn't want any trouble from these Ku-Klux-Klan wannabes. She had THOUGHT this vacation was off to a good start. But getting into an argument with a triad of white supremacists on literally her first day here? Ratchet sincerely hoped that the rest of Verthaven wasn't like this. At least there were also people like Jenny around. Ratchet somewhat reveled in the fact that she likely had a higher intelligence quotient than the woman who pushed her to the concrete.

---

A gathering of wealthy individuals, all garbed in their finest, clinked glasses and gabbed at each other more than actually speaking with each other, with fake and pompous laughter to accentuate all of the bragging and subtly hidden backhanded comments. It was like this every year at the Summer Festival, and one of the reasons Felicia hated going to the affair. She wasn't permitted to go about her own business, and was instead supposed to look the part of the heiress to the Vegh (her mother's) fortune, as well as the upright daughter of the prominent business man, Hideyaki Takashi. When an event occurred on Rosalina Isle, you could bet that a healthy dose of Vegh-money backed the attraction, just because her mother was an incredible slut for attention.

This, unfortunately, meant that Felicia garnered dirty looks from her mother's “friends” as she wore her favorite rabbit-eared hoodie with the sleeves rolled up to her elbows over a chiffon dress that she was practically man-handled into just hours earlier. The whole event had been near catastrophic, but Felicia had relented. She had better things to do than waste her energy on arguing with a brick wall. The only thing she had won on was keeping her hoodie, which was mostly by her father's permission. A smile still crept to her lips as she replayed his final say on the matter. “Amalia dear, let her wear it. She's been pig-stuffed into a dress she hates, don't make her completely miserable.”

Surrounding her in the Gala Pavilion, a large shaded monstrosity with misted air blowing down from fans to ensure the comfort of the guests mingling under it's roof, were her peers. Some of them had been her actual friends not more than seven years ago, but Felicia hadn't given them the time of day in a long while and this was the first time she had seen some of them in months. They all giggled in unison when one of them made insulting and derogatory comments that were aimed at “peasant girls” walking by in “streeties” (Clothes you'd only see homeless people wearing, or somebody completely devoid of fashion sense. Felicia noted that, that included everyone who wasn't them and didn't have the money to fling around at Dolce & Gabbana, Dior, or Louis Vuitton). They reminded Felicia of a pack of hyenas, leaping at the same target as their shrill laughter played upon suffering ears. Every so often she could feel several pairs of eyes aimed at her, as if willing her to laugh at their inane “jokes”, but she continued ignoring their persistence to have her included in their reindeer games.

She was sure she might have been drooling a bit as she stood there in a daze, just trying to get through the day by ignoring everything around her. The words seven o' clock kept repeating in her mind, that was the time she'd be permitted to leave this horror show. That was when the thing, the person, she didn't want to run into the most popped up in front of her, his golden locks glistening in the sun, his lips in a smile that showed off the dimples in his cheeks. Shaun Barts, the boy her mother was trying to marry her off to, was two years her junior and heir to the Barts Banking legacy. And a total twat. Truly, listening to him was like imagining what paint must sound like while it dried. “Felicia, heheh, hi.” He said in his nasal voice, and she felt her insides writhe as she struggled not to strangle him on the spot. Her eyes darted around for an escape as she mumbled under her breath, “My fucking luck.” but she gave him a nod and forced smile.

A waiter came strolling by with a tray of sparkling water and champagne filled glasses expertly balanced on an upturned hand, and Felicia couldn't have asked for better timing. She grabbed for a glass of champagne when she was offered the tray and “accidentally” spilled it all over her nice dress. The look on the waiter's face was one of pure horror, and she heard several of her peers gasp. Felicia played it up. “Oh my god, my dress!” She groaned as the champagne soaked through the chiffon to her bare legs. “I-I-I- Oh my god, I have to go!” She feigned crying, knocking the waiter who was desperately trying to pat dry the champagne with a silk napkin out of the way, and snatched up her backpack before running out past the “doorsmen” who were guarding the entrances of the Gala Pavilion, making sure no unsavory characters were allowed past.

Felicia was sure her peers were back there dissing both the waiter and her in equal measure. She felt a stab of guilt for leaving the poor guy like that, she just hoped he didn't get fired. Her mother was going to hear of what just happened and probably throw the Verthaven's biggest hissy fit ever, but she couldn't handle another moment in Shaun Barts' presence. As soon as the pavilion was hidden from view, Felicia looked for the nearest restroom and changed out of the now-soaked dress and into her usual attire: a loose tanktop with Link riding Epona heroically, his Master Sword upraised across the front, a pair of dark grey shorts with matching leggings that reached her knees and a pair of running shoes – oh, and of course, her hoodie. She slipped it on, rolling the sleeves back up to the crooks of her elbows and went to the mirror to look at herself. She had too much makeup on for her liking – her mother's demand – but she could deal with it until she got home later.

She patted her backpack to reassure herself that her most prized possession was still in there, and felt the cold metal even through the material. She glanced at her wrist to make sure her charm-bracelet was still securely fastened. Giving herself an affirmative nod in the mirror, Felicia turned to venture out into the crowd, hoping to scope out NEST agents without them scoping her out first. She knew she should leave them alone entirely, she wasn't registered, but the draw of metahumans with power like that... It was something she wished she had, if only to police Las Palmas better during her night-time skulking. She never considered using a gun, but the batons that they were issued were top-grade, and she could almost feel one in her hand, reinforced by her power, as she beat up a would-be rapist. That was a thought that sent a smile to her lips as flexed her hands, imagining the glory of it.

---

_@ToadRopes

---

Thank God.

They walked off. Now all she has to do is...

Handle the girl those Iron Cross assholes were harassing. Jen just couldn't believe that they'd do that in broad daylight. In a crowded place like this... They weren't the smartest with their plan. Either way, Jenny was glad that things didn't get violent. The girl they knocked down was certainly firey (Which likely played a part in why they left). While they knocked her down, expecting her to be scared, she got right back up, and started giving them what they gave to her. That was the kind of attitude people respected around here in Verthaven. Though, fighting them probably wouldn't have ended well. Since they're a major gang in the city, even Jen knew that they wouldn't hesitate to beat a group of non-white kids without a second thought. Though, Jen had the fleeting suspicion that these kids weren't from around here.

When the girl thanked Jen, she stumbled for a second. Wondering what she should say in response. Especially given that "not all white people" comment made her especially cautious. "...U-uh, yeah. No problem." She, nervously, said to Ratchet. Quickly scanning the girl. Well, the first thing Jen noticed about her was that she was Asian. She was actually pretty tall compared to Jenny, that was the most striking feature. She had her brown hair tired back into a pony-tail. The other thing that Jen noticed was that she wasn't exactly extremely feminine. With the oil stains, broad shoulders, outfit, and the somewhat muscular framed, Jen got the feeling that Ratchet didn't exactly sit around doing nothing. During her examination, her eyes drifted towards her arm... Wait... That's not an actual arm... She quickly noted, though, she didn't know what it was. She was kinda cute, Jen actually had to admit - Her eyes shot open. She felt like a pervert checking her out like this! Jen turned her head away abruptly, hoping that Ratchet didn't notice. She awkwardly tried to change the subject, "Look, uh, lots of people around Verthaven just don't like them."

Though, Ratchet was pretty... heated. Yeah, she was mad. So were her friends(?). They definitely weren't from around here. She needed to calm them down. Because if they did something stupid, things wouldn't end well. "Hey, easy," Jen tried to ease them down, putting up a hand. "Those guys are Iron-Cross, they'll really hurt you if you cross-" Only after she said this, did she realize the terribly inappropriate pun. "-them. Just... let it go, you held your ground, so I doubt they would have bothered any of you." She said.

Jennifer felt that introductions were in order. "... I'm, uh, Jennifer. Nice to meet you all."

---

---

Anastasia was virtually invisible to Michelle. In a crowd of people this large, it became hard to differentiate one from another - they were just one blob. Whether or not they were staring. She gets that a lot. On and off duty. On Duty, she's a heavily-armed NEST Agent. Off duty, she's a giant woman. She's gotten used to the stares at this point.

What Michelle was really paying attention to was the large group of people pushing their way down the street. They looked trashy, unstable, and wild. They looked very drugged up, dirty, like they liked under the bridges of Verthaven - and covered in tattoos. No, no... They fit the very M.O of the Fiends. They just needed the gas masks (Right now, they look like they pulled clothes out of those donation bins). This couldn't end well. The Fiends in an area this populated? That's just a recipe for disaster. Michelle quickly grasped the radio that was on her breast, and put it to her mouth. "Command, I have something to report,"

"Yes, Agent Gallus?" Ariella said on the other side of the radio (She also operates the radios - shut up).

"I've spotted some suspected Fiends in Sector-eight, heading southward to Sector-Seven."

"Roger that." Agent Ariella said, "I'll contact the V.P.D. and have them check it out. You stay in your current post."

"Alright, Agent Gallus out." Michelle said, rolling her eyes up into her head. Every bone in her body was telling her to tail them - since NEST has an interest in the Fiends - but orders are orders. She can't do much until it's confirmed that they're affiliated with the Fiends. Either way, she would keep an eye out. Just because she wants to tail them, doesn't mean that she should break post.

Though, across from her, Michelle eyeballed a suspicious woman with red-hair, and in a red dress.... Hm.

---

Ratchet turned back around once the three hecklers had departed. She found that with the extra two inches of her roller blades' wheels she was quite taller than Jennifer. She couldn't lean too far forward otherwise she would tip over again, but she did note the girl's thick upper arms and Scandinavian complexion. She seemed well-proportioned despite the variations in mass placement. But Ratchet didn't spend time staring at other people like she the cars in her dad's garage in Black Fall.

Ratchet noted that Jen had rapidly turned away upon glancing at her fiberglass forearm with a wheel embedded in the wrist. Ratchet would have to tell her about it later; Jennifer had quickly changed the subject.

"I can tell they don't," Ratchet said, folding her uneven arms. "Especially not the minorities. Yeesh, now I know exactly how the people on tumblr feel." She rolled her narrow eyes. "At least they left without harping too much on me. I'll know to watch out for whacked-out pasty Queequeg wannabes."

She thought for a sec. "No, wait, that's not the best comparison; racist white people wouldn't want to be someone from the Polynesian countries..."

Ratchet shrugged. "I suppose I held my ground the best I could with these wheels on." She leaned back on the rail and lifted her left leg for emphasis. The wheels on her roller blade's chassis turned slowly as a result of the gentle force. "If I don't get heckled again, then that's well and good. If I do, I'll have to hand their rear ends back to them with my awe-inspiring Asian ninja powers. Even though I'm Korean." There was a bit of bite behind that joke, but it did help blow some steam.

Kate and Winston glanced at each other, then back at Ratchet.

Ratchet pushed off the rail as Jennifer introduced herself. "Well, Jennifer," Ratchet began, "it's nice to meet you, too, although the extenuating circumstances were a bit less than ideal. My real name's Injae, but everyone I know calls me Ratchet. You know, like the wrench, not that other connotation. They did so before the, well, accident," Ratchet said, waving her mechanical forearm, "because they all thought I was good with machines. Now I've got machines on my body myself." Ratchet fingered the tarry tire of her flywheel. "The younger girl's my cousin Kate, and the other guy's my brother Winston. Though he's more like an automatic League-of-Legends-playing machine."

"Hey, I do more than just that!" Winston protested.

"Oh, yeah, he's also been getting into Hearthstone," Ratchet teasingly added, turning and grinning at Winston. Obviously, Jennifer's efforts to calm the Parks down had succeeded (as much as they could with Ratchet, that is).

"All you do is play Smash in your room and work in the garage," retorted Winston, though his attitude was partially a result of the spillover from the Iron Cross incident.

"As you can see, we love each other very much even though we tease each other," Ratchet declared.

---

@Mr Allen J

---

Sam nodded and looked down at the touchpad mounted to his wrist. He typed in the name, and a profile came up showing the girl’s face and information. As he read, paying close attention to his peripheral vision to make sure she didn’t try to run away, a little red flag appeared in the corner of the screen. This signified that he had been sent a text. He ignored it for now; this girl probably was not a threat.

“Miss Fiona Barrett” he read “Ability, adjustable insect physiology. Enhanced senses in default form- no wonder you didn’t make it five minutes in that crowd-” he paused “ currently attending Academy 218 in Alaska.” Sam looked up at her. “Long way from home, are we Ms.Barrett?” He looked back down and read the text message. Quickly he typed back:

“Assistance not required. Suspect harmless, most likely”

---

---

Fairs weren’t Claire’s thing. People were obnoxious, the cops showed up in droves, and most importantly, it was hot as balls out. She happened to be passing by on her skateboard, however, and decided that she was too hungry to go on all the way back home to get something to eat. She stopped at an intersection and, holding the skateboard under her arm, walked down the street towards where the fair began. A cigarette hung out of the corner of her mouth, and the white Halestorm tank top which she wore revealed her sleeve of tattoos, including the infamous skull. She wasn’t overly concerned about being caught with it; the Skulls were long dead and as far as she knew NEST didn’t care about them anymore.

Claire walked around for a few moments, looking at the vendor stands and food trucks. She found a mexican food truck and ordered a chimichanga. She sat down on a bench at the edge of the crowd, sitting on the top of the bench with her feet resting on the seat. Then she began to eat her chimichanga. A few nearby NEST agents glanced quizzically at her tattoo.

---

"--and you know how I said Mrs. Rossi let us have a class party, well Elizabeth ended up bringing cupcakes and cookies for everyone, and this other boy in my class named Jonathan ate all of them! Mrs. Rossi was so mad at him and--and before she could yell at him he ended puking all over her dress!"

From the house to the trolley station, and the many miles that separated Priscilla and Rosalina isle, Kiara had been talking nonstop. Stuttering over her sentences, and gasping for air in between words, his niece was talking faster then she could think. She talked about her friends, her school, her teachers, and finally her last day of third grade. Which happened to be a week ago. All of this was not news to Malik, however. He had been told this story at least four times in the past week, and by now he could comfortably repeat the story word for word. It didn't even matter that they were at the summer festival, or the fact that they were currently eating lunch, Kiara just kept going, "So Mrs. Rossi started screaming and then Elizabeth started to puke and this other girl in my class named Terra started to pu--Oooh.~"

Lowering a two scoop cone of mint chocolate chip ice cream before his niece, Malik forced back a sigh of relief once Kiara stopped talking. He loved his niece more then anything in the world, but right now, Malik just needed a few minutes of to focus on his own thoughts. Handing five dollars to the vendor, Malik patted the truck in thanks before leading his niece to an empty bench beside the food truck. "There, you like that?" He asked, giving his tea can a shake before cracking it open. Without a word, his niece nodded in reply as she merrily ate her ice cream, humming happily with each bite.

Kiara had been talking about the Festival since it was announced last month on TV. It was supposed to be a family trip but with his grandparents arthritis acting up, and Imani's never ending busy schedule, it was just the two if them. Malik didn't mind really, considering he hung out with his niece quite a bit. But what he did mind was having to take money from his grandparents. He didn't have a job yet, and with no source of income Malik was broke. It had taken quite a bit of coaxing from his grandad, and a hard shove from Kiara for him to finally accept the money, but at the end of it all it made him feel pathetic. When he was working for Moses he had so much money. So much that he didn't even know what do with, but now he didn't even have a penny to his name.

His grandparents were at that age where he believed they should be enjoying their final years, and using their retirement to go through their bucket list. Instead, they were still raising kids, and spending their money on other things besides themselves. It made him feel like shit every time he had to ask for a buck, so now that he was in the heart of downtown, Malik was determined to get a few job applications before they headed home. Besides, his grandparents weren't going to be around forever, and Kiara was going to need someone to take care of her.

"Is Imani still going to meet us?"

Pulled from his thoughts suddenly, Malik threw an uncertain glance at his niece before taking out his phone "I.. think so." Flipping through his text messages, his thumb tapped on his sister's name before lazily tapping out his message: '[Hey, you still meeting us at the Festival?]'

His younger sister Imani was almost always busy with school. If it wasn't classes, it was training, and if it wasn't that then she was doing some sort of extra curricular activity to keep her busy. She was a smart girl, but Imani's dedication to the academy often left her little time to be with family. She had told Kiara the night before that she would try to make the Festival, but her promises were always hit or miss and Malik knew better than to take his sisters word for it. Still, that didn't mean he wouldn't to get a hold of her for Kiara's sake.

Sending the text, he tucked his phone into his pocket before standing up from the bench, "Come on, K. Let's go play some games, and try to win some prizes." Even in a tank top and shorts the heat was beginning to get to him. "Can you eat and walk at the same time, or is that ice cream gonna' give you trouble." He asked, holding out his hand for his niece to take. "No, I got it." She said, furiously licking her cone. Unfortunately ice cream was already melting down her hand, while small splotches of mint ice cream dotted her floral patterned sundress. Malik was prepared however. Left pocket filled with napkins, he cleaned off Kiara's hands, face, and dress before taking her hand and being tugged behind her.

---

_@Maxx

---

She didn't sigh in relief yet, Fiona knew that he suspected of her something (She honestly didn't know what that something was. To him... she should just be a Metahuman trying to enjoy the). It's probably because of her appearance - yeah, that's it. She just looks so inhuman compared to what he's used to. Fiona quickly looked around, there wasn't anyone else in the alleyway, and anyone outside of it wasn't paying attention to this one insignificant alleyway. This NEST Agent looked at his pad (Which confirmed that he was with NEST), and offhandedly noted a few things. Her name, her power, her senses... Things she already knew more than any NEST Agent - but he was just going over it. Though, once he mentioned "Academy 218" she jolted. "Oh! Um..." Fiona yipped. Oh, no. She was in trouble now wasn't she? She knew that NEST was always interested in keeping track of their Metahumans. Leaving the Academy without telling anyone would not end well.

Fiona needed to tell him some reason why she's here, so he'll go away. She couldn't tell him why she was really here (Other than the fact that she was under instructions not to, that'd cause her more problems in the long run). She just wanted to help the Ivory Deer Community! Okay, okay... Just come up with some story to tell him, then he'll go away. Fiona thought to herself. "I'm..." Fiona mumbled, clicking her mandibles together momentarily as she quickly scrambled for an answer. "... Here for vacation!" She opened her mandibles, in order for her to show her smile. "I decided to spend my vacation down here in Verthaven." ... Just buy it. I'll be gone and back to the Academy soon as possible.

Though, with the bullets ringing through the air, and the screaming, Fiona got very worried.

---

_@ToadRopes

---

While she personally wasn't a victim of any form of racism, Jen could understand their anger completely. Nobody liked being the victim of racism. However, Jen just wanted to move on from that subject and just... She didn't know. It was funny how easily she was distracted from her goal. Jen laughed rather awkwardly at the ninja-joke Ratchet made (Because she didn't know if she should even be laughing). Ratchet introduced herself as Injae, then explained that her nickname is Ratchet. Then she mentioned working in a garage - which added a bit more to that tomboy idea Jen had about her. But, what arouse the most curiosity was the mechanical arm she has. Ratchet didn't even have to tell Jen that she lost it - it was quite obvious (Unless she wanted to hack off her arm). So, technically, Jen was standing in front of some sort of cyborg. "That's..." Kinda cool/disturbing. Jen cut herself off before she said something that Ratchet wouldn't have liked, and ruined what a good foot they've started off on. "Yeah, nice to meet all of you." She just settled on that. Ratchet then introduced her family, Wintson, and Kate. Oh, they're family. She thought to herself. And gamers. Oooooh, maybe they should hook up sometimes. "Oh, you play Smash?" Jen said, with a lot more confidence than before. "... Maybe we could meet up sometimes and-"

Bullets roaring in very closely cut Jen off, and she dropped to her knees, and covered her head. Hoping to not get hit with a stray shot.

"... Alright, you fucks, get on the ground!"

---

"Alright, you fucks are here." The woman said, as she slide on a grey gas mask with bright-red shark teeth painted on it. She was standing in front of a group of people, - Fiends, each one of them putting on gas masks of their own - in an abandoned apartment complex that's been largely ignored by the Festival, and it's people. The room they were in were one of the apartments on the very first floor. "Now, listen up, you fucks, because I'm only saying this once." She looked down her Fiends, looking drugged up as always. The woman was known on the streets as Khan, a very high ranking member of the Fiends, and a fearsome Metahuman. She was Asian, likely Japanese - it was hard to tell because of her sickly skin, her slanted eyes gave it away - and dark brown hair tied up into a messy bun. She wore a black bikini top, and Jean shorts, with boots on her feet.

Khan reached down, and picked up her M32 Grenade Launcher. "The boss wants us to cause a scene so he can... do whatever the fuck he wants, I don't care." She gracelessly breathed in through her nose, then spit on the floor. "We can just fuck up the place, or we can make it a game. There's so many people here that's ripe for the plundering. So, I'll let some of you fuckers out loose for a little while, and you jack as much shit as you can from these chucklefucks while causing one hell of a stir. Start a fucking riot!" Underneath her gas mask, she smiled wide. "Whoever comes back with the most gets this," She pulled an object out of her pocket, a strange syringe... full of a glowing green liquid. She held it high up by it's bottom, and made the crowd of Fiends go "Oooooh". "That's right. Nothing like those cheap ass mutations we give out, or those shitty drugs, the second you inject yourself with this, you'll become a real Metahuman."

That made the crowd get all riled up.

"Now, get your asses out there, and fuck them up!" Khan loudly declared, shoving her fist skyward.

"Yeah!" They shouted in unison. They quickly poured out of the building, armed with all forms of weaponry (Guns, knives, baseball bats, garden tools).

Khan pulled a small black walkie-talkie out of her back pocket, and put it to her face. She spoke into it, "Alright, I played my part, now all you have to do is play yours. And be quick, those idiots will get torn apart out there."

"... Affirmative." A male on the other end said.

Khan dropped the walkie-talkie, and slammed her heel on it. Shattering it into a bunch of pieces. One less loose end. She could hear the bullets and screaming going on outside - that means her Fiends are at work. She slung her grenade launcher over her shoulder, then started taking slow steps outside.

---

---

The moment the Fiends stepped outside, they reigned havoc. The few that were armed with machine guns began wildly firing off into the air to catch everyone's attention. After the bullets stopped, the Fiends that didn't have guns bumrushed past and started smashing everything. Vendors, people, decorations. They stole everything that was of worth.

The police in the area immediately went into action, they pulled out their weapons, but focused more on clearing the area of civilians, rather than fighting the Fiends. NEST also went into action pretty quickly.

In the area Jennifer, Ratchet, and her family, were in, a group of Fiends burst into the area. A very muscular man (Who wore nothing but combat pants and boots, showing off his physique), slowly walked into the area, with an AK-47 in hand. He fired some shots into the air, loudly shouting. "... Alright, you fucks, get on the ground!" He said as he slowly walked through the area. "Got that? Now, everyone drop everything you have on the ground in front of you." He took a few more steps, before he turned towards the group at large. "That means, your wallets, purses, electronics, and all valuables." He stopped for a moment, and grinned when he saw some girls. "And for the ladies, drop your underwear! WHOOOOOOOOOO!" He yelled, excitedly. "Am I clear?! Get to it, fuckers!" He ordered them, and everyone complied. Giving the man everything he asked for.

---

---

---

Michelle was eyeballing Claire for a moment. The girl looked like a member of the Iron Cross, or the Fiends. Michelle's hands drifted towards her Touch-pad, but.... The first bullet that rang through the area made Michelle instinctively grab her gun. She pulled the strap hard, and with one swing, the AA-12 was in her hands. Poised to shoot. More bullets followed, along with screaming and chaos. Michelle walked towards the shooting - unsure of if it was a Metahuman attack, or not (It didn't matter). She stopped when three Fiends rushed past the corner, all armed with various assault rifles. Michelle pointed her shotgun at them on reflex, aiming down the sight. "Freeze, get down on the ground!" She roared the orders at them.

They quickly pointed their guns at Michelle, holding their guns incorrectly - These fuckers aren't trained, they can't even hold their guns right. - and opened fire. The recoil nearly made the guns fall out of their hands - mainly because they weren't even holding them right. Their spray and pray missed Michelle, but one bullet grazed her shoulder. "Argh!" She loudly hissed, and returned fire. She shot two shots from her shotgun into the crowd of Fiends, and took out one member - blew a hole in his stomach.

Taking advantage of the distraction, Michelle quickly dove to the side, and rolled into an alleyway, and jumped straight up to her feet. She slammed her back against the wall, letting the hand holding her shotgun hang.

"Attention Agents of NEST!" Ariella shouted over the radio, "The Festival is under siege by members of the Fiends!"

Shit. This is bigger than she thought. Michelle's free hand went to her radio, "I've engaged members of the Fiends in Sector-Eight. A bullet grazed me!" She shouted into the radio.

"Agent Gallus, Are you okay?" Ariella answered.

"I've taken worse. But I need..." Michelle heard some shouts of pain. She peaked around the corner, and her eye shot open. One of the standing members of the Fiends had buckled over, wrapping his arms around his stomach. He let out a violent yell, as his arms and chest quickly puffed up with muscles, dripping fresh blood. He stood straight up, and punched the street so hard that it cracked. The other standing member of the Fiend jabbed his wrist with a syringe, and he started yelling as his arm started glowing with a white-light. His hand began crackling in a veil of electricity so thick that the arm underneath was a silhouette. Michelle quickly dipped back into the alleyway, and shouted into her radio. "I have something to report: the Fiends are employing their mutative chemicals!"

"... We're receiving similar reports, Agent Gallus." A different, yet very familiar, voice spoke through the radio.

"... Director Caryl!?" Michelle asked.

"Yes, I've taken to personally leading this operation." The Director said, "Now, I have a special mission for you, Agent Gallus. I want you to recover a vial of the chemicals they use to mutate themselves. Can you do that for me?"

"... Yes, Director." Michelle nodded her head.

"Affirmative, Miranda Caryl out." The Director said, before killing communications with him.

She peaked around the corner again, and saw the Fiend she killed. Wonder if he has a vial on him.... She asked herself. Though, the Fiend with the electric hand noticed her, and she ducked back into the Alleyway. She barely dodged a stream of electricity. Three more armed Fiends joined the fray and started opening fire on Michelle's position. She grabbed the radio again, shouting, "I'm pinned down! I need backup in Sector-Eight!"

"Oh,someones gonna pay for this!."

Murphy screamed as people started shooting, the festival was in complete chaos, he and Joey went to enjoy themselves and spend some time together, enjoying some candy apples before everything went insane. Murphy got Joey to a safer place than the middle of a fire fight and went to join in on the summer festival festivities.

He flew through the air, high enough that any stray bullets would most likely miss him. He landed on a nearby rooftop overlooking the chaos as he called his royal subjects. "Okay gang, " he said to them as they flew around him, the number increasing as he stood "let's just have some fun out there". He then landed in the middle of three fiends, all of them covered in horrendous tattoo's, wearing low sagging jeans and white muscle shirts with stupid hair styles.

"ever see the movie 'The Wicker Man'?" Murphy asked them as they turned and pointed their guns, shouting at him to get on the ground "this is going to be allot worse than that". Murphy crouched and grabbed his knife and used his wings to give him a boost, stabbing one of the shorter ones in the neck as the other two started to scream, being turned into human Hive looking things, Murphy grabbed a pistol from the one he stabbed and looked into the chaos. "Today was going to be a peaceful day". He shot at a few fiends who hadn't noticed him and sent two smaller groups of leaf cutter bees after some Fiends he saw shooting at some girl, some dude with an electric hand and his cronies being his first target "Hey!" he called high in the air, calling his bee's not attacking the ones he targeted back to him and sending the majority of them at the group shooting at her. Landing in cover down wind for them.

---

"We should totally--"

BANG! BANG!

Way to ruin the moment. Ratchet immediately jumped, skidding on her roller blades again. Kate and Winston ran to catch her and prevent her from cracking her head. "MOTHER OF PEARL!" Ratchet yelled.

"Are you okay?" Winston asked.

Ratchet struggled back to her feet. "I'm fine," she muttered, ripping out the key on her fiberglass arm. "We need to split," she said, as the burly man roared orders (peppered with obscenities).

Ratchet was no military-weapon-expert, so all she saw was "scary-metal-gun-with-dangerous-looking-bullets." Hearing the shots, she turned and saw the black dots flying into the air. She couldn't concentrate on the bullets, but maybe she could work with her wheel; after all, she had some good kinetic energy going there.

"Aren't festivals supposed to be fun?" asked Kate, running in the direction opposite of the entrance of the Fiends.

"Yes, they're supposed to be," Ratchet muttered through gritted teeth. She winced as she spotted a falling bullet embed itself into someone's forehead. "Je-sus!"

Ratchet said to Jennifer, "I'm certainly not removing the contents of my pockets for these buffoons." Her wheel still spun. "I think we should turn around and leave, since, putting it lightly, right now I'm liking Rosalina the character better than Rosalina the isle."

"Those guys are scary," Kate whimpered.

Ratchet removed her roller blades and gave them to Winston. "Run--er, roll! I'll give you a head start!" she said, as her brother frantically slipped on the skates. "Are you comfortable? Yes? No? No time! GO!" Ratchet violently flicked her wrist as Winston strapped the last Velcro strip on the roller skate. Winston yelped as Ratchet used her kinetic-energy power to push him away. Ratchet then grabbed Kate's hand and looked around frantically.

"Jen! Follow us," Ratchet called, turning around and dashing in her socks in the direction from whence they came. Ratchet wanted to minimize the amount of trouble that she got into. "Don't listen to what the buff guy's sayin', it'll slow you down."

Ratchet wasn't quite sure how to deal with gunmen, since she hadn't had much experience with gun-toting gangs. Both the cities of Black Fall and Amherst had their share of shady characters, but Ratchet tended to stay away from those folks. That being said, she had her share of flack for her metal arm, and she felt that these wild gang-bangers were inflated bullies. Um, with guns. Yeah.

That, of course, didn't make them any less dangerous, since a bullet is a bullet no matter who shoots it.

"Does this sort of thing happen a lot?" Ratchet called to Jennifer, as she guided Kate away from the chaos.

Andy and Selena

The moment the first bullet ripped through the air, two things happened on either side of the Verthaven street, reactions that were entirely intertwined and wholly opposite.

Selena dropped her food, which was an act that truly conveyed the severity of the situation. She, like the others around her, got caught with a wave of Was....was that a gunshot?! Followed by the immediate rationalizations of "No it's a transformer or a car backfiring or a carnival game or". Then came more. And Selena felt a terrifying paralysis wrap itself around her neck and hands as she stood completely still, catatonic eyes swiveling around the festival. People were confused and dazed and ducking for cover and no one knew what was going on. There were NEST agents reacting as well, lifting up rifles, and cops lunging for their handguns, and frantically screaming into radios and there were kids crying and dogs barking and-"Andy?" she whispered, pale skin turning paler.

A few hundred yards away Andy blinked. The first gunshot was, yes, indeed, a gunshot. He suspected .308. Maybe 7.62. Something of comparable caliber and force, something carried by hunters or more probably...soldiers. Perhaps NEST was cracking down. Regardless, Andy twitched, eyes closing as one man and reopening as another. There was an utter calm to his features, a confidence and gravitas that bordered on absolute nonchalance. He turned away from the vendor, eyes scanning the streets around him in one whole, swift motion. He did not need a second glance. Mark II Combat Protocols, Initiated. Set Parameters: Protect Selena. Evacuate. Assist Law Enforcement and Protect Other Citizens if Possible. In the base of Andy's skull he heard Selena's voice, the radio within his head buzzing with their own little short-range frequency. They say twins can be telepathic, even if they're not metahuman. Well Andy and Selena weren't twins, and they weren't entirely human, but they knew. And the more pragmatic answer was that it was technological, the product of many hours of experimenting with what Andy's hardware and Selena's own ever-adapting abilities were capable of, but the more Romantic answer is that Andy would've heard his little sister's voice if they'd been in the middle of a fucking hurricane. His fingers curled into fists and he sized up where she was in a matter of seconds, triangulating her signal as his eyes set to work filtering through what they'd seen. His jacket flared back a bit, warm air gushing out his sleeves and collar as he began assessing. Filtering for rifles and handguns and blades and pipe bombs.

"Uh, sir?" the vendor asked. Older. Hard of hearing. Likely had not heard gunfire. Was not paying attention to nearby crowd. This is the early stage. Confusion. Panic. Yes. Understandable. "Are you still interested in buying this piece."

Andy didn't reply, he broke into a run, sprinting for Selena as he kept his head on constant rotation, ears primed and eyes strained for any sign of danger, any threat at all. There, before him, a Fiend. It was in-between him and Selena, not focused upon her at all. He reached into his jacket for a handgun-instinct and operating flashed at him that it was a 1911 Operator, pulling out a gas mask from a backpack slung over his shoulders. Should've armed within the cover of an alley. Not here. Very poor decision. Andy slammed into him with full force, turning and driving his shoulder into the Fiend's ribcage. He heard-and it was lost amongst the cacophony of the crowd-the crunch of ribs as Andy's weight drove him against the asphalt. The Fiend wheezed as the air was knocked out of him, the pistol clattering to the ground. He drove an elbow into the man's sternum, prompting another guttural whimper, and rolled, grabbing the handgun with one swift motion. He reached for the gas mask and paussed. No. Poor tactical decision. Will label self as Fiend, draw fire from local authorities. Must risk exposure of abilities. The man began to speak, too dazed and caught off-guard to respond-he was supposed to causing chaos, damnit, not getting body-slammed by-

The man yelled in earnest as Andy separated a fair amount of muscles, bone, and sinew from one another with a .45 round to the shoulder. Nonlethal. Injured ribs, possibly lethal. Likely to survive. Not of concern. Acceptable collateral damage. Six rounds remaining. Threat, incapacitated. Andy rose up, continuing to move towards Selena. Concentration of gunfire increasing. Situation escalating. NEST will respond with force, civilians caught in the crossfire. Selena needs immediate evacuation. Andy knocked two middle-aged women down without hesitating or faltering, no trace of remorse in his eyes or his still-running feet. He slid behind a food stand-its owner had long since abandoned his post-and kicked it with both legs, knocking it flat on the ground. He grabbed Selena from behind and pulled her to the ground-she let out a terrified shriek and threw an elbow back, prompting a raipd-and most unnatural looking-darting of his head to the side. Her funny bone hit the concrete-hard-and her right arm went numb.

"It's me." Andy said tersely, his voice as empty as his affect. "Stop." Selena did as she was told, and felt her earlier fear-that immediate, primal panic-start to twist into something more serious. Andy...Andy was pulling out the big guns. Mark II, she felt, given that he still had his skin. That meant this was...not good. Very not good. Andy drew up, placing himself between the highest sources of gunfire, his ears registering everything that broke the sound barrier, and his younger sister. Food stand would offer minimal cover. Not much. "Selena. Listen to me. You will absorb the oven in this food stand. If anyone gets close to you and tries to hurt you, you grab their face and burn as hard as you can. Do you understand me."

Selena nodded rapidly, curled up and trying to block out the sounds of screams and sirens and everything else from the other side of her brother. And she would never admit to him but she...she was a little scared of Andy, and as human as she knew he was, she wondered if there was a way to make him like this against her, to direct that remorseless fury towards her and..."Yes. Yes I understand."

"Good. Now you-" Andy paused, his head twisting to the side. A NEST agent was pressed up against a wall. Bleeding shoulder. Gunfire. Can't detect severity from here, likely nonfatal. Carrying AA-12 shotgun. Large potential for collateral damage. Size of woman abnormal, far beyond average values for woman. Possible metahuman. "Plan. We are moving towards that NEST agent. She will protect you and get you to safety. I am going to do the same but we may get separated. If so you are going to proceed back home as safely and quickly as possible and you will do so without me. You will not try to help anyone and you will not stop no matter what you see or hear. Do you understand me."

"Y-yes..."

"Good." Andy stood up and nodded his head towards the food stand. Selena crawled to it and put her hands on the oven, burning only for a moment before she felt it rumble beneath her skin, feeling the electric coils and the path of the machinery, feeling every twisting gear and the dozens of wires and little mechanisms that turned propane into heat which turned something borderline edible into something passably so. She drew her hands back, the food cart's lights all out. "Okay," she said, "Let's go-"

Before she had a chance to finish, Andy firmly but gently grabbed her and lifted her up to her feet, pistol leveled with one hand (he moved his arm with each step, his hand not wavering or faltering and his eyes clear for any Fiends on that side) and the other shielding Selena. They moved quickly towards the NEST Agent, and as Andy opened his mouth to speak he saw something that threw an unfortunate wrench into their plans. One of them drew a syringe of some glowing mutagen, something Andy suspected was a touch more deadly than absinthe or lava lamp juice. He drew back the needle and began towards the NEST agent-

Andy lunged forward, intercepting the syringe with his forearm. There was the chink of needle on metal as the crude stab pierced through his skin and reached what lied below. Possibility of exposure? Can be handled later. Immediate danger. Andy twisted his arm, grabbing hold of the very surprised Fiend by his bicep and stepping in-between his legs, knocking him off-balance. He twisted his weight, putting everything on the man's off-balance side, and knocking him to the ground. Andy fired his pistol twice, once into each of the Fiend's kneecaps. He screamed. Blood splattered onto Andy's jacket and face, but he made no notice of it. "Selena. Are you alright?"

Selena very quietly whispered that yes, she was. She glanced at the touchpad on Michelle's arm. Those...those things could record, couldn't they? And it would've picked up on her brother....Selena shrieked, flinching back and letting her hand brush up against the touchpad. She focused hard, reaching into the machinery-not far, not far, she just needed a few seconds-and then fell backwards, hoping she'd managed to fuck up the last fifteen seconds of its recording sufficiently. Quietly, she began to reroute her internal cell phone, trying to pick up radio signals, news about what was going on, something.

"He's incapacitated." Andy said solemnly, audible over the very surprised and very pained shrieks of the Fiend below him. He kicked him in the gas mask for good measure, and the man went quiet, if not still, trembling and shaking. "You are a NEST agent. You are wounded." his eyes glanced at her shoulder. Yes, wounded. Not critically. "My sister needs to be taken to safety." Andy paused-NEST agent may not abandon post so readily. Perhaps needs convincing. "I have reason to believe the Fiends-" yes, Fiends, attack method of chaos, use of drugs to improve combat functionality at risk of mental lucidity-yes, Fiends-"are after her personally and may be using this chaos as a ruse." Lies to officer of the law. Perhaps serious repercussions. Perhaps exposure of identity and subsequent apprehension by Hands of Science. Acceptable risk. Selena must be safe. Andy stepped back into the cover of the alleyway, shielding his sister more fully. Could fully stop any round up to .50 caliber or higher. Would slow that round sufficiently to give Selena chance at survival. "Selena, lie down," Andy said, raising the handgun (four rounds remaining) and looking for any more Fiends. "Is this acceptable for you? I overheard your request for backup. I am capable of carrying out this task." A faint heat radiated off his frame, warming through his jacket and jeans. Andy began scanning the radio, filtering music and weather and political debates-no, no, he needed short range, he needed whatever NEST had. They would have information on what was going on, nature of the conflict. The other Fiends who were firing upon Michelle's position stopped for a moment, having given their more close-quarters-minded brethren a chance to stab her with the serum. Since it failed, they resumed, an arc of electricity firing past Andy-

"Andy!" Selena shouted out of fear, seeing artificial lightning and assuming the worst.

"Quiet." Andy said calmly. He knelt down, grabbing the wounded Fiend (he yelped) and pulling him close, lifting him up and using him to block the majority of his frame. "Agent, is this acceptable?" he asked as he leaned around the human shield, returning fire. He fired only once. Three rounds remaining. "I am low on ammunition. Three rounds. If you are amenable to this arrangement, I would appreciate .45 ACP munitions or an additional weapon. This violation of NEST protocol is likely acceptable given the circumstances." A bullet bounced off the alley corner and Andy jerked back, making the Fiend shriek once again. "Quiet," He ordered. "Selena?"

"I'm okay." Selena went prone, peeking between Michelle and her brother's legs and feeling rather silly, even in the middle of what was going on. "I just wanted some fucking ice cream," she muttered under her breath.

Anastasia Lytvyn

Harmless, most likely. Oh, Sam, those words do tempt fate ever so much. A few seconds later, the report of gunfire filled the air, and Anastasia had a quiet grin even as the practiced, trained movements began to take over. It was like a show, from when she was younger-there was the initial rush of surprise and confusion, followed immediately by pragmatism. She heard gunfire, there was no point in questioning its origin or the nature of the conflict. That was not her place, to question why. Merely how, and from there, how can I? Anastasia was rather handy in situations like these, even if she preferred for it to be a bit more on her terms, a bit less open gunfire. Anastasia spun, a movement that was not entirely unlike a pirouette, and pushed back against the wall, covering herself from one side of the street. Dropping down, her hand plunged into her jacket and pulled out her GSh, the other hand drawing out a small dagger concealed in her boot. She looked up at Sam and then turned to Fiona, flipping the safety off with her thumb. Anastasia had no words, but the message was clear. Do we need to worry about this one? She turned and braced against the wall, looking for potential threats as she left the situation to Sam's handling. Fiona seemed genuinely panicked, but she'd been tricked before in her day-a cold memory of that fucking Urals clusterfuck of a mission rolled through Anastasia's mind, and the shudder made her forget Verthaven for just a moment. She glanced, scar on her face darkened in the shadows of the alleyway, and looked for any Fiends. She wasn't going to open fire unless she was sure she could get them clean-there were a lot of innocent people running around....good God, there were a lot. Monsters. So classless, so messy. NEST started opening fire, probably tearing a few festival-goers to shreds. Necessary evil, Anastasia supposed.

A Fiend came stumbling by their alleyway, the effects of whatever drug he was on (amphetamines, Anastasia figured, nothing else would get you pissed enough and riled enough to go do something like this) blurring his mind to the possibility of danger. He held a wicked little knife in one hand, a syringe that was...glowing green...in the other. Anastasia was not entirely familiar with what it was-chemistry was never really her strongest suit-but she had a rather reasonable hunch that whatever was in that vial was bad news bears. Anastasia, trusting on Sam to synergize with her silently and instantly, a trust that was perhaps unreasonable but not totally unfounded-they were professionals, after all, two of the same nature in a similar profession. She moved forward, exposing herself from the alleyway for just a moment. She focused and the Fiend's wild laughter came to a sudden and total stop. He looked confused, eyebrows furrowing. He glanced around, trying to figure out why he was-

It was just enough time. Anastasia kicked the back of his leg and hooked one of her arms under his left, the one wielding the syringe. Before he could turn and drive whatever foulness that vial contained into her skin, she twisted and knocked his weight out from under him, throwing him to the ground. Anastasia didn't have much in the way of brute force, but she had dirty tricks and she had the element of surprise and she had technique. It was enough against this meth-addled fucker. He dropped, slashing out wildly with the knife-she was fast, but he'd been turning and cutting on the way down, and she'd foolishly focused on the syringe and not the blade. It clipped her leg, a cut that was more annoying than life threatening. Rolling back, she lifted her pistol and fired twice, noislessly, into his head, which fell back lifeless, noiselessly. Anastasia crouched to pick up the fallen brass out of old habits-such are the old habits of a seasoned hitwoman-but quickly thought better of it, moving back into the cover of the alleyway. She pulled up her pants, silently cursing that fool Fiend and every fucking inbred member of his family tree. There were a sizable number of curses her fingers longed to form, but she instead sized up the wound. Nothing bad, assuming he hadn't wiped his ass with that knife or anything. She dropped her bag to the ground, clutching her knife in her teeth as she pulled out a roll of gauze, quickly wrapping her leg and tucking it back into the bag. Her suit was in there as well, but there was no time to slip it on-and she'd just get fired at more with that thing on. She gave a quick thumbs up to Sam before drawing the knife from her teeth and readying herself once more. Fiona was vaguely on her mind, but mostly an issue of mild concern-Sam was handling her, and that was for Sam to worry about.

She nodded her had at the ensuing chaos and raised an eyebrow. What's next?

---

---

Since shit was not looking good... Fiona's eyes darted around the area, searching for an exit. The bullets that she heard all around her were telling her that there was no true exit. The screaming, the bullets... it was just too much. Without even asking Sam, Fiona quickly scurried over to the nearest dumpster and climbed inside. Closing it shut on top of her. The cockroaches, or the filth, wouldn't bother her one bit.

It won't be long until this is all over....

---

_@ToadRopes

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Holy shit! Jen ducked down even further once she realized what happened. The... Fiends are attacking the Festival. In broad daylight? Are they mad!? Well, Jennifer heard that they're so drugged up that they barely know what's going on. They have no reason to do any of this. Though, at the moment Jenny wasn't thinking about why they were doing it... Her thought process was more along the lines of - Holy fuck, I'm being held hostage! WhatdoIdo, whatdoIdo!? She was more than willing to give up her things - other than her cell phone, she didn't bring anything too valuable with her - because she'd rather not die, or get raped by Fiends. All she had was a couple dollars, her cellphone, and... Penny's note. She'd rather not lose the last thing - everything else can be replaced! Though, what Ratchet's family was trying to pull was just ballsy. More balls than what she's doing. Jen didn't know how, but Winston just shot off into the distance on skates, and Ratchet and Kate started hauling ass. ... Wait, is he...? She asked herself, before she stopped asking and decided to get the hell out of here. It might have been all kinds of stupid, but at this point, she was wondering if it'd be any smarter to stick around. With the Fiends, anything could happen. So, Jen quickly ran up to her feet and started hauling ass after Ratchet.

"Hey! You four get your asses back here!" The man shouted loudly. He pointed his gun at them, and started shooting - but only a couple bullets came out. Looks like he wasted his clip after his first demonstration. He growled in anger, and replaced the clip. He waved the gun at the crowd, and shouted "Any of you try the shit they just pulled and you'll be taking the fucking bullet for them!" He pointed at two of his goons, who were in the middle of stealing possessions from the people they have hostage. "You two! Go... get them." He nodded, then he reached into his back pocket, and pulled out two glowing syringes, and they ran up, grabbed them, and injected themselves with the mutagen. One stabbed herself in the arm, and her arm warped into a long, twisted, bloody appendage, with a bone blade at the end shaped like a crescent moon. The other man jabbed himself in the leg with the mutagen, and his legs started mutating, growing longer (He grew a second, and third, knee). The two ran after Ratchet's group.

Jennifer followed after the Parks. She kept up to them pretty well - the onset of her powers made her run much faster. Thank God. That aspect of her power is useful now than later. Ratchet asked if this happened often. "... Not really." All sorts of crazy shit happens in Verthaven - like what happened a few nights ago. "This isn't the usual brand of craziness!" Jen shouted back up at Ratchet. "I promise you, this is just a bad day - the city's normally much better!" As she was running, Jen heard some footsteps rapidly approaching. Her heart was already on the verge of exploding, but something inside of her was making her go even faster.

... Where the hell do they go from here?

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Blood was gusting from her wound. Thank God she was resilient, but that didn't make it sting any less. They had her pinned down in her - she didn't want to risk getting another, more serious, wound. All she had to do was hang back here and pray that they'd run out of ammo. The hail of bullets, and electricity stopped for a few moments, which gave Michelle some breathing room. But, nary did Michelle ever let her guard down. What are they up to...? She noticed what they were up to, a Fiend was approaching her with a syringe full of that glowing liquid. On reflex, she turned towards the man - but she was too late. Someone else was handling it. A man gotten in the way of the Fiend, apprehending him - but at what cost? Michelle noticed that the syringe was stabbed into his arm, and she grit her teeth in anger. This ain't no place for a wannabe hero! I can handle myself! She almost said out loud. Yet, there wasn't a single transformation taking place, and she swore she heard metal clashing against metal. Michelle looked up at Andy for a moment, and wondered. The man asked a girl - who was with him the whole time, if she was alright. Then... That's when he went onto talking to her.

Well, now... Apparently this man's "sister" (Which she would question under a normal situation, but she didn't think too much about it) is some sort of target for the Fiends... Hm. They'd launch an attack this big just to grab one girl? There were holes in his story (Like, who is she? And what relations does she has to Verthaven's crime world) but Michelle wasn't concerned. What she was concerned about was Andy hearing her distress signal. "Wait, that was an encrypted frequency, how did you get into it?!" Okay, they're going to need to have a loooong talk after this. Michelle will also need to have a few words with Ariella too. She hasn't encrypted the frequency enough! That bullet wound she got started stinging like hell, and she put a hand over to it, gritting her teeth tightly. "Ugh, we don't have time for this..." Despite her mission from the Director herself, Michelle's goal was to help people. That's it. Helping people. Miranda can't fire her if she escorts a teenaged girl out of a warzone. "I'll help get the two of ya' out of here - but leave it to the professional!"

She meant that too. Like hell she was going to give up her side-arm to some complete stranger. That's how you get killed these days. Now, it's time for a little action. They halted their barrage of bullets, and electricity. That meant it was time for Michelle to dish out a little payback. A grin crept up on her face as she peaked around the corner - they sent another poor soul with a glowing syringe to his death. Well, his fault. Michelle dove from out of the alleyway, and pointed her shotgun at them, and just slammed her finger on the trigger and let the gun go full auto. At least eighteen-shots came out in a few seconds, and it tore the Fiends to pieces. The man with the syringe got a hole blown into his head. The others were lucky enough to not have been killed like he did.

Bullets ravaged them, but the man with the electric arm was still up on his feet. He pointed his hand at Michelle, and she dove behind a vendor stand. The electric shock hit the stand (Fortunately didn't damage her at all). She took this moment to pull out another ammo-drum, and reload her gun. She jumped up to her feet, put her elbow on the stand, and opened fire on the Fiend. As the roar of the shotgun tore through his chest, he fell backwards, shooting his lightning skyward. The rest of the Fiends that had applied pressure on Michelle were dispatched.

"Alright, come on!" Michelle shouted at them, gesturing for them to come along.