[color=f6989d][h1][center]Vicki Victory[/center][/h1][/color]

[color=red]"It’s not really that complicated. For some reason a bunch of people got some powers the seem based off of champions from league. Guessing from your over-sized mechincal fists you got Vi, that guy in the suit back there got bard. As an unfortunate side effect he can't talk either, just make weird noises, well most of the time. That's the first time he's done that as far as I know. As for me, I'm just handy with a knife which leaves me split between Talon and Zed. Course with shadow slinker gone unless duplicates are fair game I'd say Talon is my draw. Anyway that just about sums up my knowledge of what's going on. Anything else?"[/color]

Vicki processed this news in her mind for a few seconds. His response just gave Vicki a million more questions she wanted to ask this guy, but first thing was first…

[color=f6989d]”What’s your name? Why’d you just...jump after me like that, isn’t that guy your friend or something?”[/color]

[@Eklispe]

[color=a2d39c][h1][center]Raze Colter[/center][/h1][/color]

[color=a2d39c][i]Useless. Absolutely useless[/i][/color]

The elevator pinged as the doors finally opened up to the first floor, revealing the old man behind the desk still beaming stupidly. [b]”Sounds like you guys are having a lot of fun up there! Just try not to bother the neighbors too much.”[/b]

[color=a2d39c]”You won’t have to worry about me making any more trouble around here,”[/color] Raze stated bitterly as he hurriedly walked past the front desk.

He pushed through the heavy front doors of the building and into warm sunlight, the heat pleasantly blanketing him compared to the roiling inferno he was washed in less than an hour ago. The sun was just starting to sink down from its zenith, just barely peeking over the tall buildings on the opposite side of the road. Raze reached into his pocket and checked his smartphone. [i]4:03pm[/i]

[color=a2d39c][i]Maybe I should’ve thought about what my next move is before storming out like that…[/i][/color]

As Raze was mindlessly gazing about, his eyes slowly settled onto the alleyway from last night. The scene of the mugging he forcibly stopped. Peering into a dumpster was a younger man, scrawny and spectacled. This was the same dumpster that Raze hid the corpse of the mugger in.

Raze’s heart plummeted and panic rushed into his head like water, his eyes widening in equal proportion. Crossing the street towards him were three disgusting...things, just barely hovering above the ground. Each one was a distinct color: pale white, sickly green, and brownish-orange. They looked like some twisted version of a typical sheet-ghost costume, with long skinny arms ending with long, bony claws extended out towards Raze.

[color=a2d39c][i]What the hell…[/i][/color] In an instant, Raze chose self-preservation over dealing with the kid, and ran off down the street as quickly as he could.

[@Cubix]

[h1][color=f26522][center]Garrett Fishman[/center][/color][/h1]

Garrett staggered down a hallway covered in dark-red carpeting, dirt and dust caked in so thick to the fibers that it almost formed a complete second layer. He leaned against a door and, using his right arm, struggled to grab a set of keys out of the opposite side of his pants. His left arm, broken and casted, hung from a white and blue sling, typical of what you’d receive from the hospital.

After a few tries and a muttered curse, Garrett finally opened the door to his two-room apartment. Before him was a small kitchen joined with a combination dining and living room. A forest-green couch was pushed up against the wall, sandwiched by a simple wooden dining table that dominated most of the room. On the opposite side of the table were two plastic chairs. In the corner was a little TV stand with a small flatscreen pedestaled atop. The opposite wall from the entrance was one giant screen door, covered by floor-to-ceiling blinds.

The room was a bit messy, some dishes went uncleaned in the sink and a few old dinner plates littered, but it was nothing compared to the disgusting hallway. This was home-sweet-home for Garrett.

Garrett threw his keys onto a kitchen counter and shuffled into the next room over. On the floor lay a tan mattress adorned with a single blanket. Gingerly, Garrett lowered himself onto the bed, then positioned himself laying face up on it. At long last, he finally closed his eyes, ready for the sweet sleep that he had been waiting for.

Less than a few seconds later, Garrett’s nap was disturbed by a vibrating coming from his right pocket. His eyebrows furrowed in anger, and he growled as he reached down to answer the call.

[color=f26522]”What.”[/color]

An unfamiliar voice spoke, pompous and proper, [i]”Am I speaking with Garrett Fishman?”[/i]

Garrett hesitated before responding, racking his mind for ideas of who he was speaking to. He steeled himself, ready to hang up and leave the apartment if it was the authorities.

[color=f26522]”...Yes.”[/color]

[i]”Splendid! My name is Jericho, and I’d like to propose a deal to you…”[/i]

[@Leolycan]