---

---

Now where was I...

With a flick of her lighter, Maxine had ignited her cigarette. A stream of grey smoke came off as she held the cigarette in between her fingers, taking small steps. She heard some loud-ass rap music in the distance, but didn't pay it any mind. So far, her big heist on the Fiends was going nowhere. The guys at the Kushi Bar were useless, and she ended up wasting her time. So now, she's walking around Knightdale Rows, smoking a cigarette before settling in some hipster club for the night. She blew out a puff of smoke, and it was sucked into her body. No one would notice in all this darkness. Eh, well, there's always tomorrow. Maybe her yield will be better then. She didn't notice, but she was walking towards the scene of the party - and she heard the song a lot better. Now, music being blasted late at night was not alien to Knightdale Rows (It's usually a club). But rap music? Nah... that ain't Knightdale's style. Eaglerock's, yeah - but she was surprised that there wasn't police all over the place for noise complaints.

Well, she's not doing anything, so might as well give the place a look. She casually slid her hands into her pockets, and then strolled over there, towards the beach in fact. It wasn't too far off from Knightdale, but once it caught her eye, it made her grin. What was before Maxine was a beach house, really expensive. The kind of shit for the rich fucks. Obviously there was one hell of a party going on there for the kids that obviously get too much money from their parents... And all Maxine saw were opportunities. Just sneak into this party for rich kids, then walk right on out of here.

Maxine, giggling under her breath, let the cigarette fall from her lips, and she crushed it under her foot as she began walking towards the beach house. Hands in pocket. She walked up the steps, and briefly wondered how the hell she's gonna get in. Whatever, she could always turn into smoke, and fly in....

Only to run face first into a much, much taller man, who was holding a glass of water, of all things.

"Hey! Watch it!" Maxine shouted as this giant piece of man meat appeared out of god damn no where. God, she hated this party already. She took a step back, and took a good look at him.

"Oh shoot," Carter said, reaching over and putting a steadying hand on her shoulder in case she began to fall. "Sorry about that." he finished. He was very... warm. He was also very tall, and had a relatively thin frame. Despite this however, he did have broad shoulders and muscle was noticeable on his body. His eyes were wide though as he looked up and down her body. His skin was baren of any and all ink and he smelt like men's cologne more than anything else. He was dressed differently too. It was still casual but at the same time, more formal than most of the other kids- who were showing up in swimsuits or no shirts. He had black jeans on, sneakers, and a grey button-down collared shirt with a Volcom emblem on the front pocket with a white undershirt.

"You dont look like you're at the right party?" he said, his eyebrow furrowing in question as his eyes went back up to meet hers.

Now, Maxine took a step back, and crossed her arms. Taking a look at the stranger - who had to be around her age. He asked her if she was at the right party. No, of course not. She's obviously fucking here to crash it and steal some stuff. No one needed to know that. Maxine smirked, and slid her hands into her pockets. "Heh, could say the same about you, sweetheart." She chuckled for a moment. "But, lemme tell you, I'm at the right party. So, mind lettin' me in?"

Carter blinked, but didn't move, unsure of how to react to the situation. He was totally dressed right for this party, wasn't he? And why was she suddenly calling him sweetheart. He was genuinely confused because, as things went- some tattooed girl who smelt like smoke and ashes was not only not his usual quarry but also not the type to be calling him any type of endearing names.

"Sweatheart?" he said, dumbly. His eyebrows furrowing even more.

Maxine rolled her eyes. "... I call everyone sweetheart."

Carter's brow relaxed some, and he stepped to the side somewhat to let her in. "Right, sorry about that."

Heh, worked like a charm. Maxine grinned as she stepped into the beach house - which honestly felt more like a mansion. She looked around, and nearly laughed. For all this class and money these rich kids supposedly have, they throw down and party just like everyone else. Now, all she has to do is enjoy herself, and find something to jack at the last second....

"You'd THINK it would be more classy than this." Carter said from behind her. He sipped his water and pointed as the people around him. " 'Taylor Pierpoint invites you to her party in her mansion at 8PM.' read the email. Nothing else. You'd think she'd give us more to go on but noooooooo." he finished crossing his arms. "I honestly dont see the novelty of the whole get drunk and wake up with chlamydia and strangers."

Maxine nearly fucking jolted the second she heard this giant weirdo behind her. A part of her wanted to punch him in the face, but another part of her wanted to stay low-key. "Y-yeah... how could ANYONE see the appeal in that?" Maxine said, sarcastically, rolling her eyes as she turned around to look Carter in his eyes. This guy's obviously a square. Like the kind of kid that latched onto his mother's titty for too long and didn't get a chance to experience life for himself. But that brings up another question: how did his ass get invited here in the first place? Though, she'd have to remember the name "Taylor Pierpoint".

"I'm glad SOMEONE agrees with me. Killing my liver is not on my to-do list." he said, finishing his water and holding it awkwardly instead of dropping it on the ground and leaving it like any other person his age would do. "So, how'd you get invited here? You dont seem like the type for raves." he said, looking around. "...Or whatever the hell this is."

"I could ask you the same question, sugar." Maxine looked over her shoulder as she spook, and quickly turned around all the way. He's questioning why she's here, and that he doesn't look like the rave type. Well, how the fuck would you know? Maxine thought to herself. "Me? I hit up all sorts of clubs and raves all over Knightdale Rows." She answered, taking a few steps to the side. "Taylor invited me to this party since we met in school, and she liked the way I thrashed."

Carter shrugged. "Fair enough. She invited all of Academy 12, so here I am. Along with the rest of the school." he explained. He ignored her final statement, or at least to since he had no idea what she meant by 'thrashed'. He stuck out his hand for her to shake. "Carter. Carter Trenton. It's nice to meet you."

Oh God, I'm going to get your nice guy all over my hands. Maxine looked at Carter's hand like he was holding a gun to her. She swallowed her pride, and shook his hand - not without getting a little bit of ash on him. Just to screw with him. Thank God that Taylor happened to invite people from Academy 12, so she has some credence, at least. "Maxine Carter, and I also just so happen to go to Academy 12." She was basically announcing that she was a Metahuman... but so was he. Though, she had no interest in showing off, or learning about his power. Maxine took one look around, and saw so many different faces. And a guy dancing with a lampshade on his head. Now, that guy looked like he was having a good time. She turned back towards Carter, and shrugged, asking, "So, what do you know about some of the people here? I could ask Taylor, but I don't really stick around the rich crowd much."

When Carter retracted his hand and looked at his palm. Ash. Fire based meta human, he was willing to bet on it. He gave her the 'stop' expression. It really wasn't a big deal to him considering most if not all of the students here were metahumans from Academy 12, and if she was from the same place then it went to explain the situation even farther. He reached forward and wiped his hand on her vest or whatever the hell it was, and put his hand in his pocket. He watcher her eyes as she looked around.

She had to refrain from punching him in the face. Maybe she'll come back to punch him in the dick.

"That guy over there? With the lampshade? Drake Blackmore. Taylor's ex, I think. I'm not too into the rich crowd myself- but they know me I guess." he explained. "A few names you'll probably hear though are Neal, Claire, Ryan Corvo, Johnny Valos, his half sister Gabe, his other half sister Sylvia, Abe, Eli, and of course- Drake. Those are Taylor's friends who she more than likely personally invited."

Hmmm... She had no idea who these people were. Eh, whatever. At least that answered her question. Though, she felt she needed to know a bit more about Taylor, than these nobodies... Wait, wait, wait! Are they all Metahumans? That would not be great if Maxine blows her cover, and she gets decimated by twenty different powerhouses at once. She could hold her own in a Meta-fight preeeetty well, but if someone whips out the water, she's out. Eh, she shouldn't worry about it. She looked around some more, hoping to find a secret spot....

"You smell like smoke. Do you smoke?"

"Yeah, why?" Maxine asked him right back.

"Because you smell like smoke. I'm pretty sure I covered that a second ago."

".... This going to be a problem?" Just to screw with him, Maxine pulled out a cigarette, and slid it in her mouth and held it tightly with her lips. She pulled out her lighter with a scorpion logo on the side and lit it. People are drinking, fucking, and smoking weed in here. Sue her.

"Didn't your mama tell you not to do that indoors? C'mon man. And honestly just use your power for it or something. Why do you even carry around a lighter? Cool points?"

Okay, she couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at this boy. She looked him straight in the eye and silently asked "are you serious, bruh? Are you fucking serious?". Mama told her not to smoke, not to drink, not to get tattoos - but quite frankly, her mama don't give a fuck. Which is why she's doing this in the first place. "Ooooooooh no!" Maxine had the cigarette in between her fingers as she put her hands on the side of her head, making a comical "shocked" face. "I'm breaking the rules! In a room full of people - breaking the rules!" She rolled her eyes as she took a inhale of cigarette smoke. "And for the record, I don't like using my powers all that much. I like to exercise a bit of subtlety... in a room full of Metahumans."

"You dont like using your powers? The ash that was on my hand says otherwise." he said, crossing his arms and wiggling his eyebrows. But she had a point. Although two wrongs didn't necessarily make it any better...

"Anyways, I dont know you that well Max, so I wont judge. But you and I both know you like using that power of yours. Whatever it is."

The eyebrow wiggling was creepy as fuck, but maybe Carter had a point. Or something. She didn't think about it. Of course, she could always just come up with some halfassed excuse, and see if this dolt will fall for it. "Oh, yeah, that..." She cut herself off once she realized that she didn't apologize or say anything after he wiped it on her. Just quit while you're ahead, Carter. She shrugged. "Guess you got a point there..." She inhaled some more precious cigarette smoke, and didn't blow it out at all. "Now, where's the bathroom? I gotta piss." She grinned slyly. "... Unless you're gonna follow me there, too." She started chuckling after her little poke at Carter. Wait, she just realized - his first name, is her last name. What are the odds?

"Oh, uh, bathroom's just dont the hall. Third left. Why would I go to the girl's bathroom with you?" he said, his eyebrow furrowing in confusion once again. "I'm pretty sure if I went in there while a girl was they'd be able to file for sexual harassment."

"... I was joking, you dolt." Maxine rolled her eyes. Jesus, this kid was born yesterday. Eh, whatever. The whole bathroom thing was just an excuse to get away from him before she punched him in the dick. With fire. And hot ash. "Later sweetheart." She said as she turned around, and followed his directions. Down the hall, third left... She came across the bathroom, and knocked on it. Only to get a loud,

"Go away!" From two people.

Maxine laughed. Looks like somebody's gettin' busy. She won't disturb them. She put her back against the wall, and peaked around the corner to see if Carter was looking. He moved on to other things, which presented an opportunity for her to go across the hall into another room.

---

---

Thank fuck she got away from that dumpster fire while she had the chance. Maxine was ten seconds away from punching him square in the jaw. But, hey. Some people are just like that.... no matter how many times she told herself that, it didn't make it any less annoying. She shrugged, and kept walking. Heh, for some beach house, this place was surprisingly maze-like. All she had to do was find where the expensive stuff was kept, grab it, and jump out a window with it. Easy as that. Though, with people everywhere, that'd be a problem. A huge problem. Plus, if there's a telepath, then her plans will mostly involve smoke dashing out the nearest window and hauling ass. She grinned. Nothing ventured, nothing gained, after all. She pushed open a door, and seemingly entered an expensive kitchen room, and closed the door behind her (It didn't close all the way). It was, oddly empty. And dark too. She wanted to turn on a light, but she thought it'd draw too much attention. With only the lights outside, and her dim cigarette, to provide lighting, Maxine quickly walked through the kitchen, hoping to get to the other door.

"Yoooooooo!" A loud voice came from behind Maxine. ... I fucking hate when people do that. She nearly jolted - but maintained her composure and turned around... To see a fucking pimp standing before her. Her eyebrow couldn't be raised further than it already was. "I couldn't help but realize you seem a little lost." The pimp said to her.

"You could say that," Maxine started off, putting her cigarette back into her mouth, and her hands into her pockets. She shrugged. "I need to take a piss, and I'm looking for a bathroom."

"... You realize the bathroom is just down the hall?" The Pimp said, pointing his hand back down the hall she came.

Maxine shrugged again. "Someone's in there, probably getting blown. She strolled over to a counter, and sat down on it. So I figured I'd find another one. You'd think rich-ass house like this would have tons of toilets."

The pimp grinned, and sat down on the counter next to Maxine. "Eh, not as much as you think." He shrugged. "Speaking of which, I'd like to know your name." He grinned. "And for your information, my name is Valos. Johnny Valos. The the most fabulous mothafucka you'll ever meet."

"Maxine Carter, I go to Academy 12." Maxine answered - that "and for your information" comment made her cringe.

"Heh, don't know who the hell you are." Johnny answered, laughing. "But, then again, I don't know half the fucks that are here. I suggested a small party between us friends, and Taylor invites literally everyone she meets, or ever met." Johnny shrugged. "Now you got every motherfucka and their grandmother on the west coast in here drinking our booze, acting like they're the shit!" He started laughing, before he turned towards Maxine. "If I see someone's grandma twerkin' in here, I'm fucking out."

They both shared a laugh, and Maxine pulled her hand out of her pocket and flipped the cigarette in between her fingers. This Taylor... Maxine keeps hearing that name, and now it got her really interested. She wanted to ask, but she knew that she'd arose suspicion. Since everyone here is supposed to know Taylor! So, she just replied with a simple, "I hear ya', sweetheart."F

"Now, if you excuse me, I gotta guard the front door." Johnny said, as he stood straight up off the counter. "Thanks for the little chit-chat..." He said as he stepped out the door, by the time he was out, he poked his head back in, and said, "And get yo' ass out this room. No one's supposed to be in here." He closed the door as he walked off.

I'll get my ass out of here, alright.... What a strangely dressed man... and what a waste of her precious time. She shrugged. Honestly, it was probably a better chat than with Carter. Now, Maxine stood up, and proceeded out the other door.

@Mr Allen J@BurningDaisies

---

Ratchet raised an eyebrow. "You didn't think this all the way through, did you?" she asked Jennifer. She buried her face in her palm and muttered a Korean obscenity while shaking her head. She didn't think Jen was... well, the drinking type. Sure, it might've been peer pressure, but Ratchet never would have thought that the same person who wanted to avoid a fight at the Crystal Shores would be wasted like this.

Ratchet held up her palm. "I don't touch alcohol," she said to Anna. "And apparently there's like a zero-tolerance law in California for minors."

Ratchet didn't approve of underage drinking, but she was just a visitor to Verthaven. She had little to no idea what these people were like. Already the wealthy folks have somewhat fallen short of her expectations. Ratchet gave Meifeng an uncomfortable, flat look. "Just... try not to, you know, both end up in the ER or something," Ratchet strained.

She got off the barstool and patted Jen on the back.

Ratchet waded through the drunken orgy-porgy; apparently Huxley wasn't too far off on the whole soma thing. She made her way out to the balcony and looked up at the sky. The stars were out, though relatively few in number because of Verthaven's lights. Ratchet sort of wished that it was easier to see more of the night sky.

She leaned on the balcony and thought of her itinerary. The day after tomorrow she would have to attend a wedding for an uncle. At least she would see her other cousins again. Honestly, she'd rather practice her trumpet until her chops blow out than sit through vows and organs and passages from the Bible.

---

_@ToadRopes

---

A girl she didn't recognize (At first) brought Meifeng drinks, and Jennifer looked her eyes like "please no". The last thing this situation needed was more alcohol. And she knew that she'd be the only one sober enough to get Meifeng home. She wanted to say something - but she had to keep the facade going, and giving up now would only screw her over. Everything... was just weighing down on her. The music, the people - all of it! She just couldn't think right now. Her fingers were shaking, and her eyes were just drifting around. There was so many people dancing, and drinking, she just didn't know how to process it all. Jen needed to leave for a moment. Ratchet asking her that she didn't think this through almost got a yes in response. What threw Jen over the edge was Ratchet's departure. She watched as her new friend left the scene, and tracked her the whole time. That.... that was when Jen dropped the facade.

"I have to go." Jenny said - in her completely normal voice, and got up from off the couch, and went off after Ratchet. Ignoring any off remarks from Meifeng, Anna, or Taylor as she went off after Ratchet. Thank God she was so invisible in a crowd like this, she was probably unnoticed as she waded through the crowds. Hoping to follow Ratchet. With a crowd like this, it'd be easy to lose her. Yet, her eyes were focused on her brown hair, and tall frame. She saw Ratchet open a door, and step out into the balcony. That's where Jen was going to go.

"Hey, Ratchet, I, uh, need to speak with you." Jennifer said - barely halfway through the door, before she stepped through and closed it behind her. She was kinda at a loss as to what to say really - in fact, she thought that she shouldn't have come after her in the first place. Crap. Now, the jig is really up. She twiddled her fingers for a few seconds, before she scratched the back of her neck. "I... it's clear that I was faking it back there. All of it." She just came out blunt.

---

_{@BurningDaisies}

---

"Yoooooooooo, Anna!" Meifeng shouted, raising her hand up into the air. Anna was the last person she expected to be here. On one hand, people from all over are coming here. Not just the rich and famous. Either way, that means her other best friend can join her for a night of debauchery. She kept smiling. Before she shouted, "Didn't expect to see you here! Then again, it proves the stereotype of the rich elitist asshole wrong!" She started laughing. Best of all; Anna brought them booze! "Anna, you always bring the good shit! Thank you." She said, as she reached for the drink Anna pulled out just for her. Anna told her that she was falling behind, and that made her laugh even harder. "Hey, you act like I can even compete with the alchy over here!" Meifeng raised a hand in the hair, and stuck out one finger solely to point at Jen. While she snickered as she held the glass in her hand. She stared at it's contents, and was still hesitant as all hell to actually drink it. She usually just gave it to Jen, and....

Ratchet seemed to have her panties in a bunch, because she said that she doesn't drink, and then warned them not to get too fucked up before she walked off. This is a party - a very illegal party. You're supposed to get lifted. What's up with that? Looks like Ratchet came to the wrong party. Meifeng laughed as she took Ratchet's drink. Ratchet should have gone to the Chuck-E-Cheeses - Jen quickly got up, and went after her. "Wait, Jen!" No! She's drunk as hell, she'll go missing in all this and end up in some creep's car (Which Meifeng ain't having none of). Meifeng would have grabbed her, but her hands were full. And Jennifer disappeared into the crowds, while Meifeng was putting her drinks down.

Standing straight up, she faced Anna and said, "It was nice meeting you here, but I gotta stop Jen before she, you know, gets taken advantage of."

‘Ghost Town’, The Ferris Inn

Darkness overwhelmed the room, dim light only just about breaking in through the gap in the curtains. Examining his surroundings for what must’ve been the fifth time, he couldn’t help but note that it was a damn shame that the place had been left to rot. Ever since they’d ditched it years ago in the wake of that accident all those years ago, the hotel -which at one point held a five-star rating- had been picked clean by looters and turned into a closet full of skeletons for the local kids. Even the city squatters gave the place a wide berth, giving it an eery sense of isolation.

Quentin was left waiting another few minutes before he heard a noise coming from the hallway. He leaned forward and listened carefully, slipping a hand beneath his jacket and resting a gloved hand on the M92FS in his shoulder holster. Footsteps. One guy, from the sound of it. Seems like the client was only just running late. Heading up to the door, he slowly gripped the frame and opened it, peering out into the hallway.

“Oh,” He heard the figure in the darkness, clad in a hoodie and jeans and wearing a backpack. “Where do you want to-” The figure started, only for Quentin to interrupt him and gesture to the room. “In here.” The two entered and Quentin gestured to the bed settled at the far end of the room. “Take the money out and place it on there.” Whilst the client quietly obliged, he took a seat in the corner of the room and watched the man set about his business.

“You got the-” The client had begun to inquire, only for Quentin to respond by clicking his fingers together. A light flickered, if only for a brief moment, before becoming a constant flame like the result of flicking on a Zippo lighter. This seemed enough to satisfy the client’s question and once he’d done stacking the bills Quentin headed over and began counting them, one by one. As expected, they all added up - yet he wanted to be careful and quickly removed what appeared to be a torch from his pocket and flicked it on, holding the UV light over the bills, checking to make sure that they were unmarked.

Once that was done, he pulled an empty dufflebag out from beneath the bedframe and started loading the bills inside. Finally, Quentin turned to the client and gestured for him to sit. “Give me your hand and stay still. Might come as a shock.” The client hesitated, if but for a moment, before outstretching a palm for him to grasp. Quentin reached out and firmly squeezed the man’s hand. The latter of the two seemed to gasp with shock, as one would if they had an especially sharp needle stuck into their arm. Then, finally, it was over.

The client looked back up to Quentin after spending what must’ve been half an eternity staring at his own hand, as if expecting it to burst into flame. Eventually, he balked up the courage to inquire “How do I, y’know...” Quentin raised a hand and clicked his fingers. “Like that.” He answered, nodding to the client who subsequently did the same and found a spark of a flame hanging between his thumb and index finger. Quentin headed back over towards the dufflebag resting on the bed and slung it over his shoulder, nodding to the man. “We’re done here. Good luck.” He finally noted, before heading off into the night.

Knightdale Rows
Next Morning.

Quentin was stirred from his morning routine by a buzz at the intercom panel. Abandoning the news station currently displayed on the TV, he headed over towards the panel and opted to open the line up, awaiting a response. “It’s me.” A familiar voice spoke. Quentin froze for a moment, contemplating cutting off the call, before hitting the button to page him in. A few minutes and a change of clothes later and he heard the knock at the door, prompting him to answer it. Opening up, he was met with a man of similar appearance to himself, albeit a little younger and wearing a shirt and jeans with a utility belt, complete with sidearm and badge.

“Reed. It’s been a while.” Quentin finally broke the silence. He gestured to the hallway, motioning for his younger brother to enter. Heading into the kitchen, he pulled out a seat for Reed and leant back against the counter. ”How’s things? He inquired, to which Reed answered ”Alright, I guess. Nothing special.” Quentin idly nodded, before continuing ”Heard you got promoted. Congratulations, I guess.” Reed glanced up, before nodding and asking ”Uncle Cass tell you that?”

Quentin affirmed Reed’s question with a solid nod. ”Yeah. Haven’t seen him for a while, though. How’s the old man doing?” He glanced towards a picture frame mounted on the wall, depicting a relatively young man in a fresh VPD uniform laughing with a slightly younger woman, a strong resemblance between the two. ”He’s fine. Y’know how Cass is, old man wouldn’t retire if they stuck him in a body bag. I wager he’d turn up in the office the next morning, freezer burn and all.” The two smiled at the notion, if only for a brief moment. Knowing Uncle Cass, it wouldn’t be too far from the truth.

Heading over to the fridge, Quentin glanced back towards Reed and raised an eyebrow, “You want anything whilst I’m here?” Reed shook his head, finally speaking up and getting to the whole point of his visit “No. Look, we both know this isn’t a social call, so I’ll just cut to it. You’ve seen the news lately, right?” Quentin nodded, ”It’s hard not to.” “Right,” Reed continued, ”Had all sorts of people crawling all over this stuff. VPD, FBI, NEST - the works. Still not enough leads, and people are dead over this shit-” Quentin cut him off, ”So where do I come into this? Think I’m associated with the likes of the Fiends? Fuck, Reed, you know better than that.

”Maybe so, but I know security’s just a day job for you and I doubt Uncle Cass buys that shit story either. Look, I’m not gonna tell you what to do in your spare time, couldn’t even if I wanted to, but you still owe it to us for helping you keep your little secret out of the hands of those suits. People have died, for fuck’s sake. Anything, any lead we can get - it’d be appreciated.” For emphasis, Reed kept his gaze fixated on his elder brother’s face. ”Look, Quentin finally began after what must’ve been an eternity’s worth of silence, ”If I knew anything I’d tell you, honest. But I don’t. I don’t deal with the Fiends, or anyone like them. Too much trouble... and as a principle.”

Silence hung over the two for a couple of moments, before the younger brother finally answered, ”Alright. Sure. Just... give me a call if anything does pop up. You know where to call, right?” Quentin nodded, ”Right.” The two made their farewells, and Reed let himself out.

s

---

---

The rest of the day went fairly well for Plague and his men. Roark went to a nearby convenience store and bought some supplies while Daniel went to the hardware store to pick up tools and things he could use to make explosive traps. Once they both got back, the group moved up to the sixth floor of the building. Plague himself situated himself on the seventh floor, where the CEO's office was. They no longer travelled by way of the streets anymore, and got around through a maintenance tunnel leading to the sewers at the bottom of the building. When he got back, Daniel locked the doors, wrapped chains around the handles, and, if an intruder really just didn't get it, placed a bomb with a tripwire just behind the doors. Roark put boards up on the inside of the windows to dissuade explorers. The security room no longer worked, but none of them had the skills to repair it. Plague spent an hour or so exploring the sewers with his crew of phages, trying to figure out where the different entrance points were. Soon he more-or-less had a mental map of the entire sewer system under Isabella Isle. Talia kept watch with her phone; if anyone showed up, she would send a text out.

8:00 PM

Plague walked down the steps to the sixth floor with a black backpack on his shoulders. He looked around at the newly-rennovated sixth floor; they had made good progress in setting it up, but it was still somewhat dirty. Unlike the floor they had been on before, this level consisted of a central hallway with individual offices along it. The hallway was square-shaped, ending where it began. There were fourteen rectangular offices, a few closets, and a bathroom on the sixth floor. They had set up in offices 601, 602, and 603, which overlooked the main street that ran through the Ghost Town. With tools Daniel had bought, they had busted through the walls separating them and made a very primitive doorway between them, joining them into one large room. This was their observation room, and until they had more men would be the home of their operation. Offices 606,607, and 608 were wired to explode if anyone opened their locked doors. Office 604 (which was in the center of the building, facing 601) was the armory, and was currently empty save a few of Daniel's bombs, some RPGs, and a few grenades on a shelf. Plague hoped to rob a gun shop in Union Point in the near future.

Plague walked into Office 601. Daniel was sitting on an exam table (rooms 610, 611, and 612 had once been a doctor's office) eating a piece of jerky. Roark was eating a McDonalds cheeseburger. Talia stood at the window with a pair of binoculars. Byon was patrolling the hallway, watching for any intruders. Plague looked over to Daniel and Roark.

"Come with me," he said. "We're going to go see Khan."

"What about?" Daniel asked.

"We need some new recruits," Plague replied. "And I'm not taking the burnouts this time. I'm going to pick them myself." Roark and Daniel both got up and picked up their guns. "Keep watch until I return," Plague said to Talia. "Inform Byon if any intruders come. I don't want you leaving this room."

---

A few minutes later, Plague climbed down the ladder into the sewers, Daniel and Roark right behind him. They walked along the edge, Plague taking point with a flashlight, and walked through the maintenance tunnel under the channel between Isabella and Estella Isles. Roark kept his eyes peeled for any signs of movement, and had his gun at shoulder level. Once they reached the other side of the tunnel, Plague stopped. He heard something up ahead, something animalistic and dog-like. It reminded him a bit of Broken Hyena, one of Khan's hounds. He was safe, though; it required a special level of stupid for that dog to get off of its chain.

There were gunshots not far away and a doglike howl.

"Keep your weapons up," Plague said. "Broken Hyena is loose down here."

"Fuck," Daniel muttered, drawing his Glock from its holster in his jacket. They skirted around the tunnel, being very careful so as to avoid detection from the canine beast. Plague had generated four phages by this time, and they crawled along the walls as he walked. They reached the tunnel Plague was looking for without incident. Once arriving, they removed their masks and placed them in the duffel bag. Then they climbed the ladder and entered a dark alley in the middle of the Iron District.

---

---

Things were quickly beginning to get out of hand. Drake was dancing with a lampshade on his head, Jen was irreparably drunk, and probably would be for the rest of her life (luckily Taylor didn’t give her a full-sized bottle), people who she didn’t know were walking in the door, and now some girl who Taylor had never met was asking her about the party. To top it all off, Taylor was at the point on the drunkenness scale where she wasn’t happily complacent, but was just confused and found it difficult to process information.

“The better question is; why not have a party?” Taylor asked. “Now, um, who are you with? Sorry, I've had a lot to drink and this party's getting a little out of control.” Then, to Taylor’s relief, Ratchet walked in and started talking to Meifeng and Jen. Taylor looked over at her.

“Ah, bonjour! Welcome to the party!” Taylor said. “Generally my parties don’t revolve entirely around hard liquor, but considering that the city has practically burned to the ground in the last few days, I figured we could use a little trashing! If you’d like, the refrigerator has non-alcoholic things in it."

Upstairs, one of the second-story bedroom doors exploded open loudly. Carole staggered out, obviously drunk, with Brayden not far behind her. The two were shouting and screaming loudly enough to be heard from the living room. The conversation was so frenzied, however, that it was hard to make out exactly what they were saying.

“I’ll just leave, then!” Brayden shouted.

“Then go!” Carole yelled back “I don’t care, I’ll find somebody else!” They staggered down the steps. Then Brayden through the front door open and stormed out. Carole tried to run after him, but she fell over and landed on her face in the parlor. She staggered to her feet and looked around the room. She realized that she was only wearing her underwear, but she was too drunk to really care. Taylor considered helping her, but then she considered drinking the glass of fruity alcoholic beverage in her hand and decided that the fruity beverage was less annoying and wasn’t mean to her as often. She'd let someone else do it.

Eli Vaughn was having a bad time. Sure, a few beers was fun, but he had once again underestimated his classmates' level of maturity and temperance. Now Drake was dancing with a damn lampshade on his head, Claire was getting laid, Neal was giving somebody a blowjob in the bathroom, and Carole was walking around 3/4 of the way naked. He was a seminarian, for Christ's sake! He didn't do any of this! He considered leaving, but then Carole began to wander off again. Taylor was doing nothing about it; she was too busy getting drunk and killing people with hard liquor. If the girl went numb (she probably would), he could bring her back. For now, however, he decided to follow Carole and make sure that the didn't get herself into trouble.

Carole wandered back upstairs to her bedroom. To her surprise, it was taken by Claire and some boy Carole had never seen before. So, she walked into a sitting room overlooking the beach. She was looking for a place to roll up and go to sleep (and/or more alcohol), but instead she found a very sketchy-looking girl with a cigarette standing by the window. Before she could react, she felt someone walk in behind her.

"Carole," Eli said. "Go put some clothes on. You're walking around in your underwear."

"I...I dun caer," Carole replied, looking over at him.

"Well you should. Come on, once you get some clothes on I'll get you some water."

"I dun want waetr!" Carole shouted. "I wana geet dwunk..." Eli's stare told her that she wasn't getting anywhere with him, though. She sighed and marched off to her room to put some clothes on. Eli looked back up at Maxine.

"Sorry about that," he said. "She's had a bit too much to drink." He could help but smirk. "Um, forgive me, but who are you? I don't remember seeing you come in."

---

Sam Clarke

---

Sam Clarke leaned against a brick wall at the end of a dark alley. He was wearing a black hoodie and jeans, and the heat coming off of the pavement was crippling. A cigar was clenched between his lips, and he was smoking it as he waited for his partner to show up. The streets of Union Point Hills were just beginning to clear of traffic, and the homeless beggars and boys selling water bottles were beginning to pack up and leave with their day’s catch. Police sirens weren’t far off in the distance. Sam heard the moans of a prostitute from a nearby portapotty. This place was filth itself. Tonight, he and Nightingale were going undercover to scope out Fiend territory and try to find intel on the location of the lieutenants. He checked all of the important pieces of equipment: handgun, check. Flashlight, check. Kevlar vest under clothes, check. Motorcycle under a tarp behind a dumpster, check. Sam didn’t feel very good about this. Though he and Nightingale were well-trained, they were in a cesspool of criminal scum with little protection.

From a distance, he watched as a woman was dragged off of the street and into an alley. She tried to scream, but a hand clamped over her mouth and pulled her into the beckoning dark. Sam very calmly sat up straight and walked across the street. He entered the alley where the woman was being mugged. Both criminals had a gun. One was holding a knife up to the girl’s throat; the other was unbuckling his belt. The woman’s mouth was covered with duct tape. As he approached, the man unbuckling his belt turned and pointed his gun at Sam.

“Yo, back off!” he shouted. Sam disappeared. The man looked very confused. Then the sound of a suppressed pistol firing filled the air. The man looked down and saw that there was now a bloody hole where his penis had once been. Before he could react to it, an invisible hard elbow was thrown into the back of his head. He dropped to the ground like a marionette with the strings cut. The other man dropped his knife and backed away. Sam reappeared out of thin air, and he screamed. Before he could draw his gun, he fell back into a puddle, a bullet hole between his eyes.

As the girl sunk to the ground, Sam picked up the bodies and tossed them in a dumpster. In this part of town, no one would care if there was a double homicide in an alley, especially if a NEST agent committed that homicide. When the two boys went missing, everyone would know what happened to them without a full-scale criminal investigation. It was simple, and it was cruel. Sam holstered his gun and walked away without another word. The girl choked out a “thank you”, but he didn’t respond.

He sighed and took another puff of his cigar. This was going to be a long night.

s

---

_{@Maxx@He Who Walks Behind}

---

5:40 PM

After having dinner with Agent Volkov, Lihua did what came natural and went straight back to work.

The first thing she did was slide into her computer chair and went to work. Spending hours going through every file and relevant piece of data she could. Having NEST clearance sure does gets her into a lot of files. Determined that she would not take a single break until she had something to present to the Director. Blatant invasion of privacy was irrelevant to Lihua, all that mattered to her was getting the job done. It took hours before the clicking of the keys became as background as possible. She looked up everything on the ISD, and their operations in Verthaven. Deliveries, volunteers, scientific discoveries... and it all turned out negative. Either it was wiped - or there was never anything there to begin with. Which is why she decided to go a little deeper. It's nigh-impossible to slip everything through the city's cracks.

Seems like checking the shipping records in and out of this city seemed to be the best choice. If something big gets into the city, it's definitely going to be through the boats in and out of this city. Lihua typed in a few keys, and, after a moment or two, was allowed NEST clearance into the shipping databanks. She, thought about it, and the most obvious place to look is yesterday. She was scrolling through boats coming in and out from other parts of America, other countries, or simple shipping boats. Though, something caught her eye. "Interesting..."[ Lihua said, as she clicked onto a particular shipping record.

A ship arrived at 3:32 PM. Right when all the anarchy happened. And even more curiously, the cargo wasn't listed.

Looks like they didn't cover their tracks as well as they thought. Lihua grinned, pleased with herself. Now she has something to report to the Director, that there was a suspicious shipment during the Fiend's attack. What she guessed was that there was something that the Fiends lieutenants wanted so badly that they were willing to bring national attention onto them... but, what Lihua wondered was if they were there to make a deal or steal something. If it was legitimate cargo, then it would have been reported stolen. Lihua put her hand on her chin as she pondered. She grabbed her phone, and had a little phone conversation with the Director....

The phone was ringing, and the second the Director picked up, she said, "Director Caryl speaking."

"This is Agent Vuhong, and I have something to report." Lihua replied.

"Continue."

"I have discovered a shipment of an unknown cargo had arrived at the Eureka Harbor at around three-thirty-two PM, which is around the time the Fiends launched their assaults." Lihua explained, taking a brief pause, before she continued, "This might seem like a dead-end, a goose chase, but that's what they're counting on. I request that a squad goes to investigate this soon as possible."

"Very well Agent Vuhong, send me the information soon as possible so I can process it and track down where this came from. Is this all?"

"That is all, Director."

"Good work, Agent Vuhong," She said, as she ended the call.

"Good work indeed..." Lihua said, as she gently placed the phone down and began typing away at her computer again.

8:34 PM

---

After the conversation with the Director, Lihua was able to relax a bit more. Dedicate less effort towards her assignment, and maybe check up on Meifeng. In between the gap of time, Meifeng, despite her blatant disobedience in staying at the beach, told her about a friend she made at the Academy who wanted the family over for dinner. Unfortunately, Lihua couldn't show up - but she warned Meifeng to stay on her best behavior. Or else. Lihua, stood up from her desk, and walked over to the door, her black heels were silent against the carpet of her office. Up until she stepped out, and stepped onto the hardwood floor. Her tall frame walked through the - usually empty at this hour - halls of the NEST headquarters until she made it to the door with the sign that said "Break room". A usual room, with a counter with a coffee machine, and some paper cups - that's what she was going for. She stepped over to the coffee machine, and prepared some nice coffee. Leaning up onto the counter. Someone came into the room, a browned hair co-worker that Lihua remembered scorning the other night. She simply shook her head and stepped right out the room. Which was fine with her.

Minutes passed and Lihua's coffee was ready. She poured it into her cup, and walked right on out of the room. Holding it in hand as steam came off. It was a short trip back to her office, which she planted her behind firmly into her chair, and went right back to her computer. Where the average agent would check up on their Facebook, or browse stupid videos (Or porn), Lihua put her talents to work seeing who she could help. Right now, she knew several operations were taking place in the Estella Isle. Hm... Lihua grabbed her phone, and decided to look into a little contact of hers. She scrolled through her phone's contacts with a finger, until she stopped at a certain someone. Glass Angel - also known as June April Summers. She grinned. The Glass Angel was some woman from Canada who was apart of a white supremacist group on par with the Iron Cross. When they were eliminated, she came over to Verthaven - only to get involved with the Fiends. Lihua caught on and... blackmailed her into giving up information about the Fiends. Which is why she's here today. Glass Angel isn't as loyal to the Fiends as they hoped, and Lihua, naturally, took advantage of that. She sent a text,

Have you taken your dog to the vet, yet?

A code. Lihua knew that this woman would be torn to piece if she was direct, so she came up with a network of codes. This one meant "do you have anything to report?". Lihua put her phone - face down - and went back to her computer, and started examination files on any and all relevant Metahumans. She hoped her angel wasn't killed. A few moments later, the phone buzzed, and Lihua reached for it.

Long Dragon is in Apple Avenue, he's up to something. He might be trying to rob someone.

Interesting, interesting... interesting... Lihua smirked, before putting her phone down, and putting her headset on. Putting the speaker right on her mouth. She wanted to confirm this - even though she has the Glass Angel by the balls - before spreading the information. She checked cameras around Apple Avenue, and noticed that there is an abundance of Fiends around that area. She smirked. Well, worst that happens is that her record gets stained (again) and Lihua goes to break the Glass Angel's skull open on a curb. Nonetheless, she wanted to contact a certain someone about Long Dragon. "Agent Clarke, I hope I am not interrupting you - but I have vital information for your surveillance operation." Lihua started off, grabbing a pen, and fiddling with it in order to distract herself from the inevitable. "I have information that suggests that Long Dragon is on Apple Avenue over in Chinatown - merely a jog away from your current location. I believe he's in an abandoned warehouse... but be warned, there are plenty of Fiends in the area. Likely too drugged to even realize anything...." Lihua shrugged. "... But, do not let your guard down. I'd hate to lose a fellow Agent." She had to suppress the urge to laugh - an easy task given her level of training.

"Also, Clarke, how's your son doing? I haven't talked to your wife recently, and I was just wondering how was he."

---

_@Maxx

---

One room of this damn place after another, and Maxine wasn't any closer to finding anything. You'd think these rich fucks would have expensive shit lying around, but Maxine couldn't find any. Or at least, she couldn't find a room that didn't have twenty fucking people in it. Jesus Christ, give her a break. With her cigarette burning an acrid smoke, Maxine leaned up against a wall by a window to just think. Should she just bail out now, or keep moving? If there's a chance she'll be seen, she might as well just give up now. She looked out the window from the side, and quickly took a puff of her cigarette. The smoke didn't come back out. Heh. Instead of contemplating, she could search this room real fast...

Of course, Maxine didn't get a chance to enjoy the silence before some drunk bitch (barely had any clothes on) barged into the room - followed by a boyscout. That gave her a jolt - but at this point, everyone in this party's a fucking ninja. She just rolled her eyes as they had a conversation. You know, the typical drunk girlfriend, and white knight boyfriend trying to keep her out of trouble. But, hey, if you want to party, then party! Maxine chuckled a bit while they had their conversation. "Think you had a enough, heheh... Trust me, you'll end up in a van." She spoke over them.

It was a different story once the boyscout turned to her and asked for her name. Gooooood..... time to get interrogated again. Maxine thought to herself as she rolled her eyes. She wondered if she could give him a bullshit excuse to get him to go away... or have another pleasant conversation. She wasn't getting tired of those anytime soon. "Maxine." She said with dramatic effect, leaning back and looking out the window. "And, heh, I came in through the front door, just like you - but it ain't a surprise that you didn't see me come in. With all these fuckers, you just start losing count." She answered, before he asked about it. "But, how about you let me know your name, boyscout?"

Maxine's eyes drifted towards the drunken, half naked girl, and shook her head.

---

"Hey, Ratchet, I, uh, need to speak to you."

Ratchet pulled herself off the railing and turned around to address the shorter girl. "Hey, Jen," Ratchet replied, putting the backs of her elbows on the railing. "Glad to see you're not completely dead from pulling that stunt. What's up?"

Clearly Jennifer was faking her drunken stupor; otherwise she would likely be talking in that same addled state as before.

"I... It's clear that I was faking it back there. All of it."

Called it.

"Hey, hey, it's OK," Ratchet said. "That's not what I'm concerned with. I'd probably do the same if I had drunk a bottle of vodka and three (right?) shots and still come out with my mind in one piece. Just... uh, don't make it a habit. That's how bad things happen." Ratchet got off the railing.

"I kind of like it better out here," Ratchet remarked. "Fewer crazed drunk folks running around. Granted, I came with a wrench and screwdriver so I can clonk some heads if a pecking party starts up, but I'm not sure if I want to witness a scene like that in Brave New World. You know, 'Orgy-porgy, Ford and fun?'" Ratchet exhaled and rolled her eyes, before looking out to the side.

Ratchet turned back towards Jen. "Just asking," she inquired, "but why aren't you drunk?"

Come to think of it, Ratchet had witnessed two other bodily damages to Jen that ended with her coming inexplicably out all right. (Well, maybe she didn't witness the dog biting Jen, but that definitely sounded like a piercing scream of pain.)

---

_{Written in collaboration with @BurningDaisies}

---

There's always a tangible moment, a moment to yourself, when you discover your half-assed guesswork unfolded into something so much better than you could have imagined. For Anna, it was now. The moment came when Jen instantly sobered up and Meifeng chased after her. Anna was dumbfounded to be honest. Her gaping mouth and confused look said as much, but she quickly hid it. Only her eyes gave it away. Having been left to the wayside by her friends, her blank expression may appear as temporary shock to others; and while she was taken by surprise, it was for a different reason. She had wanted to help keep those two out of trouble, and even had intended to herd them away from the group of drunken wastrels. The booze was really supposed to be a misdirection. Granted, the method she chose was awful, but it seemed like a good idea at the time. This splendid outcome, however, far surpassed her own expectations.

"Wow... That works too, I guess." A smug grin tugged on Anna's lips -- it was lazily-hidden, but it was there -- as she followed after her friends at a relaxed pace. With a sleight of hand, the tequila found a resting place at the bottom of someone's unattended red solo cup and the shot glass set bottom-up on the bar counter.

"... Heeeeeeey there, Anna." A voice came from Anna's front as she nearly walked into him (Of course, he stepped to the side). That managed to stop her. Standing a little under the average height at 5'9, and wearing a black suit with a vest, a pocket watch -- which was hanging loose on its chain -- and a black trilby. His black gloved hands were holding some vodka in one hand (This party didn't seem to be in short supply of it) and a shot glass in the other. He smirked, and poured some vodka into the glass. "Where are you going in such a rush? Hope you aren't trying to leave the party so soon."

"Oh no! Nothing like that. I was... " She looked past Jake's shoulder to see Meifeng's back melt into the crowds. "I was... just checking on a friend of mine, she wasn't looking too good and I think she had too much." Lacking any other ideas, Anna resigned herself to honesty. Well... mostly. Jen certainly didn't seem drunk when she ran off, but she didn't look good either. She might have thought of something better to say, but Jake's sudden appearance didn't leave much time for forethought. Jake was well-dressed, handsome, and Anna's body responded more than she wanted to admit, but a tiny alarm rang in her head. She wanted to with him, but her body didn't move even though her intuition urged her to walk away. Conflicted, a nervous hand tucked her long hair behind her ear exposing the delicate skin of her neck. She struggled to think of something to say that wouldn't spurn Jake and allow her to chase after Jen and Meifeng. Nothing. No bright ideas surfaced. Feeling trapped, she gave up the chase. "Meifeng went after her though, so she'll probably be fine." She started with a hurried breath, but her words smoothed into an easy rhythm. "What about you though? You seem to be enjoying yourself." Anna gave him a confident, knock-out smile, hoping to mask her growing anxiety.

Huh? Looks like she's busy here at the party. Though, Jake felt like he was being overbearing. Like, he was keeping her here, when she really wanted to help her friends. He took a step to the side so his back was to her. "Yeah, yeah, I hope everything's okay with your friend." He took a sip of the vodka, and turned halfway towards her. "If you really want to check, then don't let me hold you up." He said with a knowing grin, "I'm not going anywhere." He tried to be polite, but feared he might have sounded facetious. Like that reverse psychology nonsense. "Or I can just go with you. Hate to find out that something bad happened at this party."

The rising tension gripping Anna's chest gradually fell away. She knew Jake was trying to be gentlemen. His intentions seemed noble, but the vodka in his veins was obviously working against him. It was adorable. Anna allowed herself a modest simper as she wove her arm around Jake's. "I would be honored, if you would be my escort for the evening, kind sir." She said with an exaggerated british accent. Her usual playful smile returned. "Shall we?" She nodded her head towards the balcony, where Meifeng and the others went. "It's impolite to keep our guests waiting." She giggled, unable to maintain the posh facade with any hint of seriousness.

Anna's little accent almost roused a giggle out of Jake as he put the bottle of vodka (and shot glass) down on the nearest table (Where it was sure to disappear). He was glad he didn't come off as condenscending; he legitimately wanted to make sure that Anna's friends were fine. Which... is why he refrained from asking her to take his hand (That wouldn't go well with his current girlfriend, now would it?). They followed after Meifeng (In Jake's eyes, it was the girl that Anna was after) fast as they could. Though... something distracted him. There were some peculiar shouting, and everyone started chanting "Fight, fight, fight fight!" over and over again. "Oh God, don't tell me." He said aloud (When he really intended to mumble), as if he just knew what was going on. There was a circle forming around whatever was going on, and Jake couldn't help but move over there - even though it heavily. After one piercing shout, someone came stumbling out of the crowd (they were kind enough to step aside) and landed right on their back. A girl, blonde hair, and wearing a purple dress that has been stained with alcohol. Jake walked over, and looked down - he couldn't help but notice that she was knocked out cold. Nose was dripping with blood.

"Alright, who's next!" A girl's boastful shout came from the center of the crowd - obviously from where the fight was taking place - as Jake started pushing through the crowd. It wasn't long until he saw the scene - and was relieved that it wasn't Gabe or someone he cared about.... but some Asian girl wearing a black, and in some sort of fighting pose. She was standing sideways, with one arm up towards her face, and the other over her stomach - both fists were balled. Another girl, blonde haired, came charging at her, only to get stopped once she leaned over to the side and kicked her leg out - fiercely impacting her stomach, and sending her kneeling backwards.

Jake, naturally, couldn't help but raise an eyebrow. He looked at Anna, "... Friend of yours?"

All the enthusiasm seemed drain from her voice as she let out a long sigh. "...Yes" she said reluctantly. "I was afraid something like this would happen." She fought the urge to bring her palm to her face, feeling ashamed on Meifeng's behalf.

---

All that was running through Meifeng's mind was simple determination. The determination to go find Jen before someone else does. She was rushing through the crowds of people after that blonde head of hair fast as possible. She pushed people out the way, giving a polite "excuse me", or "sorry" as she tried to get to Jen. Though, she lost already lost Jenny - she was just trying to find her. Which was hard when she was in the middle of a party such as this. Meifeng turned a corner, and bumped into a blonde haired girl (standing next to another blonde). Which stunned both of them for a moment. However, the glass full of alcohol the girl was holding was just launched into her dress the second Meifeng bumped into her (thrusting her arm inward suddenly). More or less ruining it. Meifeng just said, "Sorry" and turned away without even looking at the girl.

"Where do you think you're going?! You little bitch!" The girl venomously hissed at Meifeng as her hand latched onto her forearm with a grip like no other. Meifeng tried to shake herself off, but she wouldn't let go. "You think you can just knock my drink on me, and walk off, you little Chinese bunny?"

A girl who was standing next to her walked up, and put her hand on her hip. "Yeah, bitch, looks like we're gonna have to teach you a lesson!" The girl reached for some alcohol.

Every bone in Meifeng's body was telling her to kick this bitch right in the side - she left it really exposed -. but she didn't want to fight (for once). She actually wanted to help her friend. "I'm sorry, okay? I just really need to help my friend right now!" She shouted at the girl, trying to pull herself away.

"Oh, but who's going to help you?" The girl sarcastically asked, as she raised a palm, and delieved one hell of an open handed slap across Meifeng's cheek. And it hurt. Spit came flying out of Meifeng's mouth as she was sent off balance - only to correct it with a few steps. A loud "Oooooooh" came from the crowd as Meifeng put a hand on her stinging cheek. Processing what just happened. The girls were pointing at her, laughing. Meifeng didn't know what came over her. She clenched her fists tightly as she could, and turned right back towards the girl.

"What? You gonna try to hit me, bitch?" The girl taunted as she threw a punch towards Meifeng - but the girl was quick as a rabbit. She ducked down a bit, and dived to the side, once the punch was close enough - Meifeng pushed the girl by her elbow with her opposite hand, which was enough to throw her off balance. She got closer, and brought her other hand around, and slammed it into the girl's stomach with her fist balled, and quickly stood straight up. Only to bring that same hand around and swing it, knuckles first, into the girl's cheek. So quickly that she barely had time to react. Meifeng shot out her other fist, and hit the girl right in the jaw - which was enough to send her stumbling over. The girl regained her balance, and looked towards Meifeng, only to see her running up, and punching her square in the nose with every ounce of her strength. Which sent her flying backwards, right through the crowds that were forming around to watch. And stopped moving.

Meifeng smiled, as she watched the girl fall right on her ass. "Alright, who's next!" Meifeng loudly announced. Some growling coming from nearby aptly answered her question. She looked over her shoulder, to see the chick's friend....

"... You bitch!"

---

Her heart was pounding, but Meifeng didn't pay attention. She was so focused and driven right now that the only thing on her mind was how to knock this bitch's eyes out. She was bouncing up and down, light on her feet as possible. Her eyes were like a tunnel vision on her opponent - an average heighted blonde with blue, wearing a similar dress to herself and heels, had her fists balled in some downright shitty boxer's pose (That her Dad probably taught her or something, but didn't take the time to correct). Well, Meifeng is going to knock her ass right out of those heels. A smirk crept up on her face as the girl recovered from the kick, and choose to push in, shooting out her fist. Meifeng blocked it with her arm, and retaliated by punching at the girl's stomach - who was actually quick enough to block it with her other hand. Wasn't a good block, she just put her arm in the way, and it was pushed into her stomach. Meifeng hopped back - but the girl kept up with her. Throwing a couple punches towards her face, that she blocked again. But then, the girl grabbed a spare bottle of vodka that was lying around and swung it at her stomach, which made impact, and hurt. Making her stumble back a few steps, and grab onto her stomach.

Bitch! I'm getting you for that one! She internally hissed, as she looked up and saw the blonde swinging that bottle towards her face. Meifeng's eyes shot open wide as she quickly dove out the way, and the girl missed. Meifeng put her right leg back, and brought her fists up to chin level, and once the girl came at her, she swung her right leg in a circular motion right at her face - but the girl took a step back and it hit air. Meifeng grit her teeth as the blonde took advantage and straight up tackled her to the ground. The girl pushed Meifeng down by the shoulders with all her strength, and made sure to lift her head up. The first thing that hit the ground was her behind, and she slapped her hands onto the wooden floor to disperse the impact. The girl crawled up on top of her, and planted her behind on Meifeng's torso, pinning her down. The girl started clawing at Meifeng's eyes, digging her nails into skin as Meifeng was throwing solid punches at her chest. The girl then grabbed onto her ponytail with one hand, and started pulling, shouting insults and racial slurs as she did so. Meifeng took this opportunity to bend her leg, and push off that leg to roll them both over to the side - getting the girl off her, and onto her side. Once the girl hit the ground, Meifeng drove her fist into her stomach hard as she could.

Meifeng jumped up to her feet, but the other girl was climbing up to her feet. She was on one of her knees when Meifeng got an idea. Quick as a bee, Meifeng turned to her side, and pulled her leg back, and drove her foot out hard as she could straight into the other girl's face. She felt her nose break on impact, as the girl fell backwards. Knocked unconscious. The crowd went wild. Meifeng started laughing as she raised her fists into the air and started bouncing up and down... Not realizing that something popped out of her dress during the fight. "I fucking did it! That'll show you to put your hands on me!" As she was bouncing, something felt odd in her chest area. Meifeng looked down to see that one of her breasts had fallen out of her dress, bare for the world to see. She loudly shrieked as she, fast as lightning, put a hand to it in order to cover it up.

_{@Mr Allen J}

---

Night skies over the ocean, an apprehensive sight with no sign of land over the horizon – and with a new moon, any sign of land would be hard to come by even if your ship was meters away from crashing into an island's reef. In the air, it is a different story. A quarter past the PNR, hovering at least five hundred feet over the dark watery surface; it puts your passengers in a position of vulnerability, and leaves them little choice but to put their faith into their instruments. A pilot seated in the cockpit of his helicopter, its blades chopping away at the wind, and his co-pilot seated next to him checking all of the dials and safety measures, came into view a flickering light in the distance. Like a firefly hovering in the air, and it is this light that acts as the copter's beacon towards a safe landing. The pilot grabbed his radio and pressed it next to his mouth.

“Pilot to passengers: coming into view of target destination. I repeat: we are coming into view of target destination. Estimated time of arrival is fifteen to twenty minutes. Caesar, prepare for landing procedure.”

The older co-pilot next to him nodded and answered, “roger that, Sea Hawk, preparing for procedure now.” He flicked a switch on the control panel and went back to monitoring their status and system integrity.

The passengers in the back numbered four, two of them fully dressed in combat gear, whereas the third was lightly geared and the fourth wasn't geared at all and was instead donning pressed formal attire in the form of black dress pants, a salmon oxford shirt, and a black vest layered over the top. A black tie was neatly tucked behind the vest. The man's natural black hair was combed over, and he was in the middle of buttoning in his cuffs.

The third one who was lightly geared was a young man, and had brown hair pulled back into a short ponytail. His smile stretched from ear to ear and was shaking in his seat in anticipation, and he also couldn't stop grinning at the fourth man preening himself. He said aloud over the sound of the helicopter, “why ya acting so fussy Baron?”

The man in the dress clothes looked up at the younger man, and his face bore a sobering professionalism, and quickly made his move to correct him. “This is still a mission, Grit, stay focused.”

Grit widened his eyes and puckered his lips in being reminded of his mistake, and pulled back. “Aha, yeah, that's right. Sorry about that, 'Zombie'.”

Baron nodded and went back to buttoning his cuffs, hard enough to do in the darkness, and one of the two light-bulbs had burned out on the way here. He was seasoned enough, though, he could get through it by feel alone. “Because,” Baron started telling him him, “after we reach the Island of Providence and drop off our belongings, and get the helicopter resupplied, we have a yacht waiting to take us to Isabella Isle in Verthaven where we will be meeting an agent of NEST.”

“Right, the guys who hired us.” Grit answered.

“Yes,” Baron confirmed, “and to make a proper professional impression, you must be presentable. Most people don't care to admit it, but they place as much value – if not more – into your appearance as they do your words.”

“Hrmm. Do you think I should'a--”

“No, no. You're fine as you are. In fact, it is best that you probably don't even say anything. Just stand there and look menacing.”

There was a moment of silence inbetween buttoning his cuffs, and what Baron was finished, he looked up to see Grit leaning forward with his arm on his knee, and his eyebrow raised with a devilish smirk. It was then that Baron remembered that, even for a sniper, asking Grit to be menacing was like asking the same of a puppy. It was fruitless.

“Just... don't say anything and wear a gun or two.”

“That's more like it.” Grit said, grinning again.

As time went on, the lights grew brighter and came ever closer. The outline of Verthaven's shores and its towering spires came into view, and at the far end of the coast, blurry lights spun slowly and methodically, tell tale signs of a ferris wheel, and of an amusement park in the city. Baron thought that coming in, you would think that this fabulous of a city what have a more rigid police department to maintain law and order. It isn't much of a vacationing spot if all of your tourists get robbed, drugged, or murdered here. And the number of gangs that they learned about in the report back at base? It was unreal how out of attunement the power structure was. The mayor might as well ordain upon the largest crime ring control of the city if he wasn't going to do anything about it.

How out of hand must it have gotten before that NEST had to get involved? That NEST couldn't handle it itself, and had to hire the Dreadnaughts? Baron was aware that his organization was a top of the line special ops and took jobs even from actual nations. They excelled at what they did and were confident in their skills. However, there was some sense of trepidation in him. NEST specialized in the capturing and termination of meta-humans and this was new territory to them. How bad must it be that they need assistance? On the kind of scale that a call to the Dreadnaughts would warrant? He wanted to know if he was sent on a suicide mission in over his head. The goal seemed simple: eliminate key targets and everything should take care of itself.

“Co-pilot to passengers, we are above the pad and are ready to begin landing.”

'It might be true for governments, businesses and armies, but it might not be so simple with gangs. Then again, if they're led by fear...'

“Hey, hey! Come on, Zombie, didn't you hear Caesar?” Grit said. “We're here! Let's get ready! Sheesh, no wonder we call you zombie.”

“I heard...” Baron replied dryly, completely unimpressed with Grit's tone. Baron didn't have much to pack, and with his leg, he wouldn't have to be the one to carry his stuff if he had. Most of their supplies were already shipped here before their dispatch. He grabbed a vintage suitcase and wheeled luggage, and he was ready as easy as that.

The blades of the helicopter chopped the air, but the sound of the motors and the engine was beginning to roar a little quieter and the blades sounded to wane. The helicopter had suddenly come to an abrupt halt, the whole contraption jerking forward and the back of the skids slammed onto the pad, violently shaking the passengers in the back. Baron looked around, alarmed, but holding firmly onto a handle near the opening. Grit came much closer to falling out, but kept his balance and braced himself against the walls. Immediately following the rough landing, sounds of yelling erupted up front by the pilot seat. It was undoubtedly Caesar, their co-pilot. There's little that can pacify Isaiah Washe, their current squad leader. And with how loud he was, it wasn't hard to make out what he was saying.

“God damn it! Never in all of my fucking years have I seen such a piss-poor, sloppy-ass landing like that! Just what the fuck was that supposed to be? We're the fucking Dreadnaughts! We're supposed to be the best and here's your pansy ass trying to fucking kill us with your landing before we even have time to get ourselves killed out there, because of what would probably be another one of your fuck ups! Get out of that pilot seat!”

All four passengers in the back, even the two escorts, just looked at each other with a look of both amusement and trouble. It didn't take long to wait for everyone to climb out and retrieve everything they need. There were already valets waiting for them outside to take their stuff to their rooms. Washe climbed out, still red in the face and steaming, grumbling to himself as he walked stepped beside Baron and Grit. “I can't believe it. Smooth flying the whole ride here, but no, he fucks up at the last possible--”

“Wow!” Grit interrupts. “Look at this place! This is incredible! This is some luxury resort stuff right here, alright.”

The resort was tall, at least fifty stories high, and bore large window panels that suggests one whole side of the room lends a gorgeous view. There wasn't much to tell from the outside, but the concrete it was built from was sculpted into the design of Roman architecture, and tall bushes and palm trees lined the property. Brick pathways led to every part of the resort.

“Why, I ought ta...” Washe grumbles as he glares at Grit who is none the wiser.

Baron just smiled. “All provided and paid for by HQ. You like that?”

“Let's check it out.” Grit proposed.

“No,” Baron answered, “not yet. We have the valets here to take our stuff to our room. Remember what I said earlier about how we must head straight to the NEST building. We must rendezvous on time.”

“Chop, chop!” Washe barked as he clapped his hands together, ushering the valets to get to work. With a wave of us hand, he beckoned the other two to follow as he made his way to the Providence docks where a small yacht was tied to port.

“That's not all.” He stated flatly. “Just remember that the organization itself hired us. The chairman, the board of directors – some of their agents might know that we're coming, but don't count on it. Honestly, it's a real fucking dick move on their part. Just don't be surprised if some bitch-ass grunt gets uppity and doesn't know who we are.”

Grit, falling behind just slightly to retrieve the rest of his gear, ran to catch back up with them. A massive revolver, a Magnum Research BFR, rested in a holster by his hip. On his back was the rifle that earned him his legacy! Sure, he probably didn't need it tonight. By he also had to show these NEST chumps what Danny Grit was all about. NEST might have a bunch of freaks in their ranks, but Danny Grit was all skill, baby! He doesn't need any supernatural powers to make him the best. It was destiny.

Climbing up the steps to step onto the boat, Washe turned around and faced the two. “Alright, first things first. Grit! We've got some rules we need to--”

“Yeah, let me guess, no talking? Zombie already said.”

Washe looked at Baron inquisitively, who simply nodded in response as he smacked the bottom of his cigarette pack. Washe rolled his eyes and shot them back at Grit. “Good, then don't make me reiterate. Try practicing on our way there.”

“Aw, but there are so many things to talk about! Like all of the city! Man, the things we could do when we're done!”

“GRIT!”

“Okay, okay...”

Everyone climbed on board the yacht and got themselves situated. The ferryman untied the boat from the pier and soon they took off across the bay. They were still a fair distance away and it would take some time for them to reach NEST docks, but that still gave them some time to think about the mission they were assigned and strategist. Washe in particular was engrossed in what their steps would be in taking out their targets. The Fiends shed a bloodbath a little while ago. That is what the report said. So the Fiends were easily the most volatile of the gangs in Verthaven, which meant that if they were to maintain a predictable situation in the city, they had to dismantle that gang. Even if they weren't the most powerful, they were key for the Dreadnaughts keeping control of their own next move. There can't be any change of plans, lest they're constantly in flux and overwhelmed. He can receive further briefing from NEST later.

---

“Alright, let's get this fucking show underway. I'm tired of sitting on my ass all day.” Washe barked. He marched his way across deck and onto the NEST pier. Grit was still sitting at a table buckled over and feeling sea-sick. Baron was setting a calming hand on the young sniper's shoulder as he tried to get him moving. Washe took a deep breathe and set his hands at his hips, staring up and down at the NEST agents who stood posted at the pier. He had to give them one thing: they were at least taught how to keep a good posture. These guys were standing stiff and rigid, barely moving other than to turn their heads and look around. It was clear by the look on their faces that these two weren't expecting them to be here tonight. However, since they were given clearance, they assumed that the three strangers were VIPs and made sure to keep himself even more upright. Washe snorted. Despite their discipline, he still wasn't impressed. Not even the massive NEST building was as impressive as HQ back in Finland. Well, it was impressive in its own way. The layed it flat across the ground and made a sky-scraper in the middle. Washe had half a mind to finger the architect who designed this place and leave a new design of a sledgehammer on his face.

Baron went carefully down the steps and hobbled over beside Washe, with his leg brace clicking along the way. He breathed out one steady stream of smoke and extinguished his cigarette, rubbing out the ash, and held it in his fingers until he came across a trash can. Grit staggered off the yacht and struggled to recompose himself. He was just glad he was finally back on land.

“Ugh... I like big ships, you know? Doesn't have nearly as much sway and bounce. Have I ever told you about the time I was on the USS Nimitz?”

“Grit, we're practically outside their doors. Compose yourself.” Baron urged.

“You went on the Nimitz?” Asked one of the NEST guards, who was almost instantly snapped at by Washe.

“Don't you fucking encourage him! Mind your own business while you're at it!”

“Let's just go, Caesar.” Baron assuaged.

“Bah, fine. Keep it down, Grit!”

“Aye, aye...”

Washe led the squad up the stairs (much to Baron's chagrin, who got to the top last) and held the door open for Baron to proceed first. As much as he hated to admit it, Baron was better suited for this. His expertise with people dwarfed anyone that Washe had ever met, which made the psychologist the ideal agent for interacting with their contacts.

“What's the woman's name at the desk, sir?” Baron asked one of the guards.

The guard, apparently confused, just answered “Agent Lihua Vuhong.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Just as Baron stepped through the doors, he heard a peculiar sound. Like an alarm of some sort, but incredibly out of the ordinary. It was deep and resonant, filled with static. He looked over to see a scanner of some type. Was it his brace? His concealed firearms? No, no. Washe and Grit followed suit and did not trigger the same alarm he had. Did it... ah, did it have to do with his... quote, unquote, power? The specialist he visited told him he wasn't a true meta-human due to the composition of his energy. Did the scanner have a negative response?

Regardless, he approached the desk where a woman had seated herself. The name... ah, yes. Sure, he had only just asked someone, but it still makes the Dreadnaughts look better when people are put under the impression that Baron already knows their name.

“Hello, you are agent Vuhong, am I correct?” Baron greeted with a tranquil smile. “My colleagues and I are here on behalf of the Dreadnaughts, as requested by the head of your agency.”

"Hi ma'am! How're you doin' this fine evenin'?" Grit beamed with his grin stretching from ear to ear. Washe began to growl under his breathe and buried his face into his hand. His skin was already becoming flushed. Baron's face only yielded that uncomfortable "that wasn't supposed to happen" look, then flashing the agent a look of sympathy.

---

_@ToadRopes

---

Now comes the big moment... Jen has to explain why she isn't drunk despite drinking enough to kill her two times. Well, she leaned up on the balcony right next to Ratchet, and placed her palms on the railing. Looking off to the side - her blue eyes watched the stream of tail lights. She contemplated telling Ratchet about her power. However, at this point, it was more than obvious that Ratchet suspected something. She had to - especially during the Fiend's attack where her shirt spontaneously got a bloody hole (With no obvious wound). And... Jennifer wasn't going to lie to herself when she said that this wasn't something she could keep a secret forever. It'd be dumb to think otherwise.

So Jennifer simply sighed, and got up off the railing. Taking a few steps towards the door. She wrapped her arms around her stomach area - and continued to consider what she was going to do. She always thought about what she say before she says it. It was important, honestly. Or else she could find herself stumbling. She turned halfway around, enough that Ratchet only saw half of her face.

"... I'm a regenerator."

Jennifer just blurted it out - and it sounded like she was unsure (If she should be saying it, after all). "I... got the power a few days ago when...." She trailed off. She thought about telling Ratchet about her incident with the Pure - but she couldn't muster the strength to even think about it without getting anxious. "I've been keeping it a secret. Because, I'm honestly afraid." She admitted to Ratchet. And it was true. In this world of Gods, there is so much to fear. Yet, it seems that the biggest threats are coming from the humans. "With what happened with my family recently... I'm honestly not sure what they'd think. And I'm afraid the Pure will come after me...." She turned herself back around in a circle, and tried to distract herself with the traffic below. Then, she realized that she sounded whiny. "I don't want sound like I'm making excuses-"to the wrong person"-but I hope you understand."

Before Jen could even continue with her line of thought - there was a ton of shouting coming from inside the party. Different this time. Everyone was chanting "Fight!" over and over again. Jennifer shook her head, and realized that she shouldn't have came to this party.

---

_{@Spoopy Scary}

---

Before Clarke could reply, someone else contacted her from her headset. Normally, this would annoy her, but the only person who really contacts her would be the Director herself. She was curious as to what the Director had to tell her now. "Hold on for a moment, Clarke," Lihua said, pressing a button on the side of her headset. "Agent Vuhong speaking." She quickly said, curious.

"Agent Vuhong, this is the Director speaking, and I have an important assignment for you." Director Caryl said, with every word being music to Lihua's ears. "NEST has reached out to a mercenary company known as the Dreadnauts to assist in bringing order to the city. You are to meet three of their members, Baron Moreau, Isaiah Washe, and Grit G.W, and share any and all relevant information with them. They have clearance to files on the Fiends."

Biting her lower lip, Lihua grinned. "I'm glad you choose me, Director. When is this arrangement?" She asked the Director.

"Now, they are coming up the stairs now."

Lihua nearly spouted an obscenity. Right now?! On such short notice?! The thoughts ran through her head as she scrambled to say something - her lips were open, but not a sound came out. Why in the name of all that is good did the Director inform her about this at the last possible second? Lihua would have to gather files, read up on the Dreadnaughts, and everything, in two minutes! "... Very well, Director." The words softly drifted out of her mouth as she realized that she's just going have to wing it.

"Very well, Agent Vuhong. Director Caryl out." The Director dropped the line.

And in that moment, Lihua reached down into her - insanely organized - filing cabinet and started running through the files fast as possible. With determination and precision. She pulled out a folder - the one with the information on the Fiend's lieutenants, the Mutagen, and more. Basically, she was going to share everything that went on in the meeting earlier today.

The sound of the door opening alerted the woman that they were here. She narrowed her eyes, as she sat upright in her chair. She had to look her best for this. Her eyes drifted towards the group of men sent to her. Brown eyes were scanning them before they even gotten close. It was a group of three men - two were, obviously, much older than the other (Who was likely in his early twenties). Either way, Lihua had to start off with their apparent leader - a man tall as she was, had black hair, and green eyes. Most interestingly, he was supporting himself with a cane - a sure sign that he had a bad leg, or another injury. Lihua didn't peg him as a soldier - and she's seen plenty of soldiers. He seemed more like... hm, a civilian, a wealthy man. Thin, and didn't appear to fight. Or that's what he wants everyone to think (A leg injury like that doesn't appear out of the blue). Lihua would make sure to keep her eye on him especially.

The other man seemed much more in line with the average expectation of a soldier. He was shorter than their apparent leader, but he was bulkier, and had the gruff exterior of a veteran. A mean looking bastard. He looked like the oldest one out of the bunch - Lihua theorized that he was older than even her (Irrelevant, but Lihua pays attention to detail, obviously).

Last man in their bunch was the youngest one of them all. On the same height as their oldest member, and probably the smallest one because he was the thinnest. Underneath his clothes, he did appear to be built. He had brown hair, and blue eyes, and a silly grin on his face. Lihua immediately got the idea that he was the least experience out of all of them - or alternatively, the greenest. Though, it'd be idiotic to make that judgement off one look alone.

Interesting. Lihua was anticipating a group much more... intimidating. This group seemed a bit more quirky in her eyes. Maybe they're just representatives. Yes, that'd make sense.

“Hello, you are agent Vuhong, am I correct?” The man with the green eyes started off, and gave her a rather disarming smile. “My colleagues and I are here on behalf of the Dreadnaughts, as requested by the head of your agency.”

Lihua nodded her head, and stood straight up, which slowed the contrast in their height well. She grabbed the file off her desk. "You ar-" Lihua was just about to answer him, before she was so rudely interrupted.

"Hi ma'am! How're you doin' this fine evenin'?"

Do you have an ounce of professionalism...? Lihua thought to herself as she gave the man a narrow glare. How disrespectful. Instead of speaking like a soldier, he speaks like a teenager. What made it more grating was that he said it to her. One look around, and even his comrades are embarrassed. However... despite her innate need to make a sarcastic comment, she kept it all to herself. Professionalism above all else, after all. She adjusted her glasses, as she looked at him.

Ultimately, she turned her attention to the man who spoke to her. "Anyway... you are correct. I am a high ranking Intelligence Officer and Investigator for the organization, and I've received word from the Director that you were arriving to assist in the situation." Lihua answered. She personally wondered why they needed help with the Fiends in the first place. Especially from a PMC. Something else must be going on here. "You must be Baron Moreau. I assume you've been fully informed on the situation here in Vertthaven. I've been told to share any relevant information with you - all of which you will find here." Lihua handed the man the folder to the man with both hands. "If you have any questions, I will gladly answer them."

_{@Mr Allen J}

---

Baron's eyes lit up at the sound of his own name, and the face he bore seemed to have grown in amusement. So she knew his name, eh? That was an interesting bit, it would seem that this agent “Lihua Vuhong” was privy to more information that Baron had originally anticipated. Baron himself was one of the few to make contact with NEST prior to their current mission – he must have made quite the impression for NEST to have kept his name on record. However, it would seem she was not so privy that she knew all of which that had been debriefed in their meeting. An interesting middle value – privy to some, restricted to others. A woman worth keeping an eye on.

“My, my!” Baron chirped and smiled. “I didn't think they would remember me. Sure eliminates the need for code names, hm? Yes, I am Dr. Moreau; and yes, we received a debriefing on the situation in Verthaven.”

“Ah, right... the shit-uation...” Grit muttered under his breath. He leaned his weight on his side and began lightly tapping his foot. Washe was keeping himself busy looking around the room, reading through pamphlets and public folders and whatnot.

Baron accepted the folder graciously and took great care in opening it. As he scanned all of its contents, he spoke aloud to agent Vuhong without looking away from the documents.

“I see here that the Fiends kingpin goes by the name 'Khan', yes? Aside from her, what are some of the other big names in their... gang? What measures has NEST taken to intercept them?”

He jabbed a thumb behind him, pointing at his colleague, the larger ex-marine. “And my compatriot here would like a document covering any private NEST outposts that may be stationed around the city, as well as the profiles of any undercover agents you may have who act as spies; and a special number to call - if your company has one – to flag for reinforcements or to send a dispatch of your units out should we require your assistance.”

Baron flipped a page, still reading. He continued, “the location of any NEST sanctioned armories, caches, and garages would also be appreciated. Also...”

The man citing his requests slapped the folder closed and tucked it under his arm, meeting Agent Vuhong's face once more with an innocent smile.

“Would you happen to know of any popular cafes in the area? I'm a sucker for espressos.”

Written in collaboration with @SepticGentleman and @Mr Allen J (The Infinite)

---

"How many?"

"Twelve... thirteen, I'm seeing. Six armed."

Henry was silent for a moment. He backed up and pressed himself to the wall as much as his spikes and huge body would let him. He reached around and grabbed the police shotgun stapped to the left side of his back. It had rubber bullets that wouldn't kill, but it'd definitely provide some breathing room if he needed it. He breathed, and in a low voice began speaking again, trying to keep as quiet as possible.

"How heavily armed are we talking here?"

"I see one with a Mossberg 500, three with Uzis, one with an AK... last one has a SPAS-12."

"Anything else?"

"Rest have melee weapons... bats with sawblades, crowbars..." There was a bit of a pause before Eli said, "One of them has a cinder block that says "the truth"."

"I'm keeping that when I get it from him." Henry said. He scratched the back of his head. He could hear them coming now. No doubt he'd be in some shit soon.

"Are there any meta-human NEST agents in my area?"

"I see uh... five, total, closest is..." Henry sighed a bit as he continued, "Gallus. Christ."

"Never met 'em. What do they do?"

"Oh, she's tons of fun. You two will get along fast. Adaptive super-system focusing on reptillian strengths, she's like your... bitch-cousin."

"Send her down. I dont want to chance these guys alone if they're meta humans."

"Calling her now."

---

The familar heat of Verthaven's night was all Michelle felt against her skin as she walked down the streets of Union Point Hills. Normally, she would be anywhere but here, but she wanted to patrol UPH, just in case the Fiends try something. She walked by a row of buildings until she passed an alleyway - instinctively, she turned to look down it, but there was no one there - before she kept walking. The communicator on her chest started buzzing, and she grabbed it, sliding it to her lips, and quickly speaking into it, "Agent Gallus, speaking."

"Hey, uh, excuse me. Agent Gallus, this is Elias Winzer. Operator for Agent Henry Olin, Dragonfly."

Never heard of either of ya'. Michelle thought to herself, looking at the communicator - letting Eli's words hang in the air for a bit. "Yeah, what is it? Is my assistance required somewhere?"

"Dragonfly's running an operation in the sewers to track Fiend activity and movement. There's a group of... thirteen or so armed coming his way. He wants backup. You know, in case they have powers or something. You're the closest agent."

"Yeah, give me his location, and I'll head straight there." Michelle immediately answered.

"He's underneath the Bazaar Riviera. Hurry, I need to go to provide overwatch. I'll keep you both updated when you get down there."

"Gallus out." Michelle said as she removed her finger from the button. Alright, head over to the Bazaar Riviera, and kick some Fiend ass. What she wanted to do to begin with. She turned around, and quickly went back over to her humvee, and pressed the unlock button on her keys, slid in, and turned the ignition on. She pulled out of her parking space, and started driving down the street fast as possible. It took her some time before she reached the Bazaar Riviera - and she reached back and grabbed her AA-12. She grabbed her communicator as she approached the manhole, "Alright, I'm heading down now."

"He's down the sewer wall to your right. Be warned, he's... not what you'd expect."

She reached down, and grabbed the man hole cover, and lifted it up effortlessly. She put her shotgun over her shoulder, as she slowly began her descent into the sewers. By the time she reached the bottom - she regreted this decision. Her nose was filled with the scent of human excretement. Hm. She can deal with it. She'll just be without her sense of smell for awhile. Michelle reached around her back and put her shotgun in her hands. Michelle moved in slowly, it was dark down here. Her night vision helped, but she didn't want to get surprised and blown to pieces by a hail of bullets.

"Hey!" came a deep, but low voice. "Over here!"

Immediately, Michelle's ears perked up to the new voice. She turned towards him, hoping that this is the Agent Dragonfly that she's supposed to meet. She kept walking until....

His huge shape pushed off from the wall. He was huge. Much larger than her- tall enough to reach the ceiling of the sewer with ease. It was obvious he wasn't human. His body was covered in spikes, he had large arms and was very muscular. His head looked more like Godzilla's and his tail was something and and of itself. He was dressed in heavy NEST armor. It was obvious he was a specialist. Not a normal NEST agent. On his left arm there was a large rectangular object, easily over four feet long. He took one look at her and grabbed it's edge, and pulled it off. A detachible shield of some kind. Then he offered it to her.

"They have guns. Mossberg 500, three with Uzis, one with an AK, and a SPAS-12. Rest have melee weapons. Maybe small arms. I can take bullets well enough. So you'll need this more than me."
"... I was expecting someone taller." Michelle joked, and put her hand on her hip. Well, Eli was right when he said Dragonfly's not who she thought he was. Then again, in this world, nothing's what you think it is. Michelle reached over to grab the shield, and held it. Looks like they're dealing with an average group of Fiends. Heavily armed, but Michelle knew that most of them couldn't shoot worth shit. That doesn't mean she'll underestimate them. Her strategy would be to surprise them, and take them all off guard while they're figuring out what's going on.

"Also, one has a cinder block named 'The Truth'. I want to keep that as a souvenir, if possible... How close are they, Eli?"

"You should both be hearing me now... Uh, fuck. Ten, fifteen feet? It's hard to tell exactly."

Henry seemed to rumble. He turned back to Michelle and looked her over for a moment before speaking. "If the shield fails for whatever reason, you can jump behind me. Now... countdown's on you. I'd like to catch them before they catch us. Remember, this is no kill, if you can help it."

"Fuck, they're this close?" Michelle hissed underneath her breath. They're close. She slammed her back against the wall, with her shield held tightly in hand. Henry told her to count, and catch them off guard. Just like she liked it. "Alright... three... two..." Michelle trailed off for a moment, pausing. This was the moment where everything goes wrong, wasn't it? She let out a sigh, before letting out, ... one!

The reaction was relatively immediate. Henry simply took a small canister off of his vest and pulled the pin off.

"Bo-yah." He said out loud, and tossed it behind the corner. He turned his head and put his hand over Michelle's face. There was a very loud banging noise, and a bright flash. He quickly took his hand off of Michelle and began to move. He was slow to rush out because of his size, but they still managed to catch most of the Fiends off guard. There were seventeen of them, rather than twelve or thirteen. In the dark it must've been hard to distinguish a fast moving group. They were dazed and confused and were sitting ducks. They could take out two or three before they realized what was going on.

Michelle was quick to rush right past the slow and lumbering Henry, weapons in hand. She stood sideways so that the shield covered as much of her as possible. She pointed her automatic shotgun at the crowd of Fiends, and went full auto. A hail of ruber bullets came out the gun, and every time it hit a Fiend, it left one hell of a bruise, and sent them flying backwards. In less than a few seconds, the clip was empty, but the devestation remained. She took a few steps back, and got behind Henry for a moment in order to have an opening to reload. Then, she slapped another clip in, and went right back out for them.

Henry on the other hand, was taking a different approach.

His M4/90 was small compared to his body and he rarely used it because his finger didn't really fit in the trigger's notch- but he didn't need accuracy in a situation like this. Unlike Michelle, who aimed for the Fiends themselves- he aimed for the ground. He had found from experience that it tended to hurt more. And in his benefit, achieved more of a spread.

But the Fiends were relatively quick to recover. One in the back, who had been carrying the Uzis, began spraying while laughing maniacally. Henry rumbled and wheeled around as fast as he could to allow his armor to absorb the brunt of the damage. One of the other fiends was moving around him with a shotgun. He could see it, but he couldn't react while under fire.

"Gallus, give me a hand here!"

"Shit!" Michelle hissed through her teeth. Someone was coming around Henry, but she was quick. Right when the Fiend was about to enter Henry's blindspot - he was met by Michelle's shoving her shield right into his face. Which sent him flying backwards, incapaciated. She could have hit him harder, but they weren't out to kill the Fiends. She arched around, and had her shotgun in hand as she returned fire. The Fiends were firing on her as much as Henry - fortunately the shield absorbed much of the fire as possible. Yet, she knew it wasn't invincible. She stuck her shotgun out, and shot the Fiend with the Uzi right in the chest with the rubber bullet - he dramatically flew backwards.

Henry immediately reared up to his full height. "Duck!" He yelled, and then wheeled around. His tail followed after him, nailing two or so Fiends that had moved around Michelle herself and sent them into the Sewer's wall. Now that he was turned and in a better position, he reached out with one humungous arm and grabbed the Fiend with the shotgun that had been coming his way, his hand wrapping around his body almost fully and pinning his arms to his sizes. He roared and threw the man, into another two wielding a baseball bat and a machete respectively. He wasn't fast enough to follow up, but Michelle was quicker than Henry. Michelle pushed in, and started swinging her shield like a blunt club. Sending Fiends flying with every powerful swing of her arms. One Fiend flew into another, and then one ran around and tried to hit her from behind. Michelle swiped her shotgun out, and hit him outside the head with it, and knocked him over, too.

Then, as fast as it had begun, the conflict was over. Henry breathed heavily- recovering from the sudden burst of movement. He had a lot of stamina, yes, but prolonged fighting would take its tole on anyone. He might need to get his back checked out too. He probably had several bullets lodged into his armor. As the adrenaline left his system pain began to set in more. It wasn't anything he couldn't work with, but it was still there. A powerful breath left his nose and he stood up fully.

"Thank you, Gallus. That would've been... harder without you." he finally said, looking around him at the many bodies. "There are two more down the sewers. Moving a lot faster than these guys. Help me cuff them and tie them up. We'll get them again in a moment." he finished.

The last of the Fiends were dispatched, and that was enough to make Michelle exhale. Now that was a rush, and, far as she could tell, not a single Fiend was dead. So, job well done? Not quite. According to Dragonfly, there were still more Fiends in the sewers. She was wondering what the hell they were up to down here - probably using the sewers as a network to get around quietly. Well, that ends tonight. "Affirmative." Michelle nodded her head, as she knelt down, and cuffed as many Fiends as possible.

"Me again." said Eli suddenly. "The two runners you saw earlier are currently in a conflict. One... wolf or, dog-like man, and the other is a reddish, giant, humanoid that seems to be protecting a third person of interest. Female, looks like." he said. "I'll keep you updated."

Henry snorted and gathered several of the Fiends and lined them up against pipes as Michelle cuffed them, and then Eli spoke up again.

"Your roar just echoed down to their location. The dog meta is retreating. The red-giant has expired. The woman hasn't moved much."

Henry looked to Michelle, and then around them for a head count. Most of the Fiends were either tied to a wall and cuffed or cuffed with their legs tied on the floor. "Have someone come and collect the subdued. Moving out." Henry replied. He turned to Michelle and nodded his head.

"Go, I'll be right behind you." Henry said as he leaned down and grabbed a rectangular object.

The last Fiend was being cuffed, and Michelle heard the entire conversation. Okay, there's a civilian in the mix? And someone just died? This day just keeps getting better. She stood straight up, and grabbed her shield (which she wasn't sure would last much longer). She silently kept moving on orders of Agent Olin. She moved slow as ever, prepared for anything. She came in view of some woman... and a disintegrating mass of flesh (It smelled worse than the sewer). "Hey!" She shouted, putting up her hand (the one holding the shield) to get her attention - but the woman took off down another tunnel. "Wait! We're here to help!" She shouted - but the woman just kept running.

"Fuck, do we go after her? She might run into more trouble."

Henry finally lumbered up behind her. Looking onward at the small red and yellow blur that his heat pits allowed him to see. He shook his head. "We wont be able to catch her right now. We can't risk our own safety. Not yet. Best get to the surface and regroup. I'll fill you in on the operation once we get up there. If you want, I'll buy dinner."

---

_{@Spoopy Scary}

---

"NEST knows everything, Mr. Moreau," Lihua shot Baron a subtle smirk. "I make sure of it." She boasted - mainly in her capacity as an Intelligence Officer for this organization.

As Baron shifted through the pages of the files, Lihua prepared to answer any and all of Baron's questions. Seems that his comrades are letting him do the talking - which confirmed her belief that he was the leader. Long as they weren't shifting through her office, then that was fine. Baron asked her if there was anyone under Khan, and that had a simple answer. "Her lieutenants, Sulfur, Long Dragon, Plague, Burnmark, and...." Lihua trailed off, coughing, slowly putting a hand to her lips as she said, "... Big Dong Travis." Still degrading to say as the first time. "Each of them control a different part of the city, or serve a different purpose... All of them Metahuman, and extremely dangerous and even more unstable." Hmph. "Once again, I can disclose more information on them if necessary - it is my job."

However, Baron also asked for NEST outposts, and any and all undercover agents. A... tall order, she had to say. She could share everything else (The Director did say to share any relevant information), but disclosing the undercover Agents is another discussion altogether. "I can get you a special number, and files on all NEST outposts... unfortunately, I am unable to disclose undercover Agents. That is a request that should specifically be filed to the Director herself. If she approves it, I can happily give you every profile." Lihua answered his question, as she quickly pivoted around back towards her desk. She bent over, and went through the filing cabinets, until she pulled out the files on every NEST outpost in the city. All neatly organized into one folder. Holding it with both hands, Lihua handed the relevant files to Baron. "Here are the NEST outposts, along with armories and such, and..." She pulled open a drawer, and pulled out a card. Handing it to Baron. The card had a phone number like Baron asked for. "This is the number straight to NEST mission control. Call it, give them your name, and you can arrange for NEST assistance."

The last thing Baron asked for made Lihua silently chuckle - a rare break from her professionalism. Since it was just so... out of place. At least compared to the rest of his requests. However, she would oblige. "And the Sunny Delights Cafe is one I frequent before I head in to work," Lihua started off, "I can give you the address." She looked Baron in the eye, and then said, "... Perhaps we can go sometimes."

"Is there anything else you need?" Lihua asked.

@Mr Allen J

---

Wow.

Jen was a regenerator.

That certainly explained the woundless bloody hole in her shirt that day.

"Why, you have every right to be afraid, what with what you told me about the metahuman Ku Klux Klan running around this place," Ratchet said. "You know what we need? We need another Civil Rights Movement for metahumans," she declared softly. "I'm no politician, but anybody can see the de facto shackles that people put on metahumans."

Oh, the irony; the people who fear the powered folk are the ones who oppress the powered folk so. Perhaps it was that way for every civil rights battle from the 1950's to the 2010's.

Ratchet sighed. "It'd be nice if something like that could start from the metahuman grassroots. But again, I'm no politician. Still, we can't wait around for a movement to start. This isn't the kind of thing that people should shrug off."

Ratchet heard some pretty violent-sounding noises from inside the house. "Oh, boy. Looks like Kate's getting her fight after all," she muttered. "Jen, I'm starting to feel a bit out-of-place. I haven't touched a drink, and I'm pretty sure you and I are one of the endangered non-sober human beings, displaced from their natural habitat. That being said, I don't like the way that those noises are sounding. Especially since I heard a couple curse words in there," Ratchet added, upon hearing one of the girls call Meifeng a "bitch."

Ratchet whirled around and walked right in just as the fight ended, feeling exactly like she hopped out of the pages of Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead. Ratchet spun right back around and with a deadpan expression said, "Meifeng got into a fight and wound up with a boob hanging out of her dress."

Ratchet realized that she should've probably confided her power to Jen; then again, that probably wasn't fair since just that day, Meifeng had already broken the news to Jen about her waterbending, and Jen didn't need more shock. She'll tell her later.

"Ah, why don't we go back inside? Whole thing's boiled over," Ratchet suggested, pointing back to the doorway. "As comparatively nice as it is outside, we probably look weird and awkward just standing around like this." She adjusted her driver's cap and strode back into the house. Jen, a regenerator. How about that. Certainly explains why her liver hasn't gone ka-boom, Ratchet thought. Sucks that childhood fantasies like superpowers and whatnot turn out to be total nightmares for people who actually have 'em.

Ratchet sat on an empty couch (avoiding a stain to her right and stretched out her arms and legs, resting her sneakered feet on the Ottoman. Hey, people were standing on tables and dancing in a drunken stupor; what was a couple sneakers on an Ottoman to a bunch of tipsy wealthy folk?

Ratchet casually folded her arms behind her and simply watched her fellow guests. She had brought a little notepad and pencil in her tool belt. She smirked at the thought of doing gesture studies on drunk people. She nonchalantly flipped open a pouch on her tool belt and drew her notepad and pencil, doing quick sketches of the fella with the lampshade on his head.

_{@Mr Allen J}

---

“You think so, hm?” Baron mused in passing, but didn't stress it enough that it wouldn't stand out as a critical part of their conversation. Lihua may be confident in NEST's intelligence operatives, but perhaps that confidence was misplaced; it would seem that even Agent Vuhong wasn't in the know of everything. Regardless, she began listing off what he had asked for – this is to say, Khan's lieutenants. The word in particular stood out to Baron. When did gangs have “lieutenants”? They may not be dealing with ordinary gangs any longer, but meta-human militias. This complicated the situation a little bit, but did add an air of familiarity to the mission.

As Agent Vuhong continued talking, covering the need for a number, outposts, and her inability to disclose certain information regarding undercover agents. Another thing that Baron let himself be aware of. All the while, the agent dug through the filing cabinet and then handed him the relevant information. This was about a nightly cram session's worth of reading. At least one thing that NEST is good at is keeping records.

To his satisfaction, it would seem that his ice-breaker worked charms on the agent! After the apparent business was settled, she was all too eager to oblige in sharing her own preference – the Sunny Delights Cafe, eh? She offered the address and then looked him in the eye.

“Perhaps we can go some time.”

Baron kept his confident composure, satisfied with the results he received. “Perhaps,” he replied. Meanwhile, Grit was in the back, wide-eyed and grinning like a fool with a hand over his mouth. He muttered to himself, “oooh, someone got himself a honey bunny.”

“Shut it!” Washe snapped quietly at Grit, who was holding in his laughter, but was red in the face.

“Is there anything else you need?” Agent Vuhong asked Baron.

“No,” he started hesitantly, but then backpedaled, “actually, yes. We're still going to need the profiles of any intelligence operatives you've employed, lest my colleague here...” he waved a hand to Grit, who winked an eye in response. Grit put his hands behind his head and imitated a casual posture, laying it on real thick. He angled his body just right so that Vuhong could catch full view of the high-tech sniper rifle that was surmounted upon his back.

“...Lest my colleague here gets the wrong idea about who his cross hairs are set on.”

Baron's eyes took notice of some papers on the desk and paced over towards that side. Some apparently important documents yielding time charts, but off to the side in a holder appeared to be NEST applications. He aimed his eyes at those as he pulled out one of them and set them on top of the other papers on the desk.

“My colleagues will be remaining here just a few more minutes, so you can give those profiles to them after you make your call.” Baron began. “And one more thing... are there any operations in combating the Fiends currently underway? I couldn't help but notice that you seemed... tense after you came into the lobby. Grit and Caesar can help reinforce whichever operatives you've set on the mission. The sooner we take out Khan's 'lieutenants', the better, right?”

He pointed as he talked about them, to Grit and to Washe, looking away from his paper, giving Vuhong a minute to measure them up. As he gave her that time, he picked up the application and the sheet of paper beneath it, before putting them under his arm with the folders. Grit looked completely confident, crossing his arms and staring down Lihua, whereas Washe was crossing his arms and rolling his eyes because he seemed annoyed that he was volunteered to aid in one of NEST's missions. He was frustrated more than anything that this broad was under the impression that Baron was the leader here.

“It seems I have quite a bit of reading to do.” Baron admitted. “Grit is a marksman, and Caesar is our operations officer. He's a tactician. They can help you with anything you need. I'll be off now... see you at breakfast.”

As he turned his back, his friendly demeanor changed to a grim expression as he nodded to both Grit and Washe. He fired off a salute to them with his pinky and ring finger. Grit watched Baron walk across the lobby looking every bit impressed. Baron walked past the detector once more, warranted the same strange, warped, unnatural sound that he made when he walked in. As he held the door open, he looked as though he remembered something and turned around, looking pretty cocky at Agent Vuhong.

“Oh, and one more thing, miss... my name isn't really Baron Moreau.”

With that, he walked out the door and made his way back to the pier. Grit and Washe looked at each other; Washe, a little stumped, and Grit trying to hide the big dumb smile on his face.