---

April Cooper

---

---

Havenfield Market, Roseview.

Was it still dressing up if you wore this kind of thing whenever you wanted? April wasn't really sure. She certainly didn't look out of place in the crowd of oddly-dressed weirdos, with her big boots, white blouse and cowboy hat, but anyone who knew her probably would have recognized how little effort she'd put into her getup.

But then, she wasn't standing here across from the RAVEN tent for festivities; truth be told, this whole 'Harvest Festival' stunk of more Baybridge weirdness. No, she was attending for an equally undignified purpose - guard duty.

'One of the biggest events in Baybridge,' they said. 'High chance of a metahuman terror attack,' they said. 'Need to have a strong presence of capable people, they said.' Like a well-trained metahuman fuckin' mallcop. At least they were letting her pack heat - the holster at her hip might have looked like a prop for her costume, but it most certainly wasn't.

She leaned back against the wall and yawned pointedly as a familiar face came stepping out of the RAVEN/DOVE tent a few feet away. Cindy Keagan, the face of DOVE, the girl from all the posters and TV commercials. Good to know she was out having fun like all the less important people.

The would-be-cowgirl brought a hand up to her earpiece and spoke into it. "So, tons of folks spread over a huge area outdoors with only a check-in at the front to determine who gets in and gets out. Just to be clear, what is my job if shit does go tits-up? Die first?" She snorted, not really expecting an answer from the seldom-used comm line afforded to the other RAVEN agents embedded throughout the festival.

---

Cindy Keagan, & Jennifer Caspin.

---

Havenfield Market, Roseview.

The DOVE exhibit wasn't too bad. Especially with a fancy hotdog that Cindy helped herself to.

She should be making efforts towards staying in shape, but she should also be relaxing here (Calm before the storm, after all). She's in great shape as is using the best of the DOVE workout facilities. Her butt's already great enough. Cindy took a large, unlady-like, bite out of the hotdog, and used a napkin that she had in her other hand to wipe the crumbs and bits and pieces away. Her brown eyes drifted towards her friend, Jennifer, who was wearing the same white hoodie as before, and eating a chili dog. She looked pretty detached from things, looking around as everything sped on past. For a moment, Cindy could see a look in her eyes that could be interpreted as longing. And the DOVE knew exactly what Jennifer wanted.

Like everyone's been telling her, it's best if she puts the past behind her.

Before Cindy could raise a peep about Jennifer, she heard some comms chatter from April. Unexpected, but if someone's using their comms, then they must have something to report.

"So, tons of folks spread over a huge area outdoors with only a check-in at the front to determine who gets in and gets out. Just to be clear, what is my job if shit does go tits-up? Die first?" Coming from April.

Cindy just had to resist saying, "Your duty" in the most bitter tone possible. Because this was pretty eyeroll inducing for Cindy. Not only for April to be wasting everyone's time with idle comms chatter - especially when everyone is on order to keep the comms clear unless they have something to report. Just for the sake of being polite, Cindy was going to play along.

"You know, Meif- One of my co-workers would say something like "die a hero," but since she's not here... Do I have to review the lengthy evacuation procedures on comms?" Cindy said in a very sarcastic fashion for all the RAVENS and DOVES to hear. She was met with collective groans. "Then let me give you the short version; get civilians out of the line of fire, then deal with the threats."

Cindy realized she was being a bit of a bitch, that was probably because of how tense she was. Honestly, this whole event was something that was bound to go horribly wrong. However, she had some strong opinions...

"Look, while this - this fair - may not seem like a good idea, we have to at least try. Because if we cancel everything out of fear, then that's just going to build up fear, and bitterness." Cindy was putting her DOVE training to good use when she spoke. "Both of which against Metahumans."

It was funny, a few moments ago she was chiding April for idle comms chatter.

"So, let's just keep an eye open, and report anything suspect."

---

...

---

Havenfield Market, Roseview.

Inside the tent, was not only Deborah Javuant, the head of DOVE....

... But someone who would want her head.

It was a woman with brown hair tied into a ponytail, sitting with a form fitting DOVE uniform on that displayed her curves quite well. She looked at Deborah, surprised by her arrival, since it was completely unexpected. However, she had to quickly alert somebody of this. Since she's aware that Deborah's on the list.

The woman stepped out of the tent after feigning her phone ringing, and walked into a backalley where nobody would see hear a word she says underneath all the chatter of the festival. She phoned a very special number, and pressed it up against her ear...

"... This better be important." The voice of the Foundation Woman was a very bitter one, as it was clear she was being interrupted.

"Look, Deborah Javuant is at the Harvest Festival in Baybridge," The traitor within DOVE said. "I know this is a waste of your time, but I figured I'd inform you because she is on the list...."

The Foundation Woman was silent for a few moments.

"... The Founding Family appreciates this information."

---

The Black Hound, & The Foundation Woman.

---

???

When the Hound wasn't on a mission, he would retreat into this large chamber full of pods. Which served as his base of operations, merely because barely anyone came around here. He put his helmet on the side, as he smoked a cigar. He looked up at the pods for a moment, before wondering what they would end up being like. Hmph. Just another cog in the machine.

The Black Hound stood straight up, and began marching through the pods with his helmet off. He stepped between them, as he contemplated. He looked inside briefly, as he considered breaking the contents for a moment. He continued his march, only the light of his cigar giving away his position - his black armor was hard to spot inside this incredibly dark room.

The room was silent save for the sounds of beeping, liquids moving, and machines operating - and of course, the Black Hound's footsteps.

Another set of footsteps approached, and the Black Hound looked at her.

"Black Hound," The Foundation Woman said. "I told you never to leave your helmet behind."

She grinned.

"... You have an assignment."

The mysterious man was silent for a moment.

"... Affirmative, I'll carry it out soon as possible."

He walked back over to the pod with the strange content, and put his hand on it.

"Just another assassination I presume...?" The Hound bitterly asks. "I just long for a day when I'm not the weapon of madmen...." The Black Hound said. "... The day when I'll finally be real."

The Foundation Woman stepped up to the Black Hound.

"I understand how you feel... but, for now, we have to serve." The Foundation Woman attempted to reassure. "Some day, things will be different...."

The Black Hound's eyes flashed a bright, electronic red for a few moments. "... It's what we're working for, after all?"

"Yes, yes, yes..." The Foundation Woman answered. "Now, your target is in Baybridge... you may know her as the leader of DOVE."

The Hound gave the Foundation Woman an aside glance.

"Deborah Javuant?" He asked.

"That is correct... a source informed me of a little thing we can take advantage of, so I decided to make up for our failure to overload Old Man Winter..."

"Under the noses of the Blessed Three?" The Black Hound asked.

"Hehe... I wouldn't say that..."

The Black Hound looked at her for a moment, before speaking, "Furthermore... we know of her abilities, that could be risky... should she survive...."

The Foundation Woman's mouth opened.

"... Yes, should she."

---

A velvet red robe tied at the waist with a gold rope perfectly accented his tall pointed blue hat decorated in moons and stars. Even though it was a Mickey Mouse Fantasia outfit, he made it his own with every strut. Charlie felt proud, even with his ridiculous wizard get up on. He found it fitting considering what he was about to do. Even when the oversized pointed hat fell onto his nose he still enjoyed making the carnies squirm. This particular one was dabbling in a game called three-card monte, and he happened to be using the oldest slight of hand in the book. The man was clearly practiced, as even when he knew what to look for he couldn't see it. But after a few suckers came up and lost Charlie noticed something, a slip up that gave the entire act away. Charlie bet small then larger and larger and after he was 200$ in the whole he broke the man.

"Double or nothing." Charlie exclaimed with a fake agitation to his voice, he pulled out his money and gave it a quick pull to insure it was real. He put it on the table as the man began flipping around the cards, Charlie held back a smirk as the man pulled the same move once more.

"That one is the red." Charlie said as he picked up the card and flipped it. The man sat there mouth agape, and as Charlie focused on the card he noticed a tension in the air. He threw his hand down onto the man's, and shot him a look that said ' don't even think about running'. Then he released his grip and the man forked over the money begrudgingly before vacating his small tent. Charlie then turned around and held out a deck of cards.

He opened the pack and did a large fan flourish showing all 52 faces to a small group of passersby, a woman picked one and shoved it to the middle of the deck. Charlie asked them all to snap and the card jumped to the top of the deck. A man from the crowd this time took the card and with his own two hands shoved it into the deck. He handed it back to Charlie with skepticism, Charlie once more asked the group to snap. The card returned to the top of the deck. Charlie then continued on with trick after trick, being accused left and right of being and ink meta-human and a cheater. Until finally he himself amassed a crowd, just enough to put a wave into the market's traffic. Charlie stood on the table the swindler was using earlier and continued his show. Coins, cards, dollar bills he was using anything thrown at him for tricks and taking audience participation. It was the largest crowd Charlie had ever performed for and he was terrified out of his mind. As the clapping grew louder he began to sweat and he began to lose his nerve. However he kept powering through each trick...

---

Asuma Obokata.

---

Havenfield Market, Roseview.

“Go on Asuma! Please! Show them the awesome trick!” pleaded Rexx who was, ironically, dressed as a T-Rex. The way in which he bobbed up and down with excitement caused the two little fake forearms to clap in a ridiculous manner.

“Urgh…” groaned Asuma, having gotten bored of showing the trick. Asuma wore black boots, black trousers, a frilly black shirt, a black overcoat and a large pumpkin mask. He was of course dressed as the headless horseman.

“Come onnnnnnn!” Rexx was unrelenting in his pursuit to show off his friend’s stupid little trick. The small group of Rexx’s old school mates seemed to be feeding off the build-up and looked genuinely excited to see what was going to happen. Rexx of course had introduced Asuma to the friends, but he forgot all of their names instantly and would have to refer to them by whatever they were dressed as.

“Fine.” Sighed Asuma, as he limbered himself up. The small group stood watching in silence until suddenly the large pumpkin mask began to glow a very bright orange. The group was obviously very easy to entertain, probably because the amount of booze they’d drunk had caused them to revert back into giggling school-kids. To top off the little trick, Asuma focussed the on the light emanating from his eyes so that it turned red. From an onlookers perspective, the headless horsemen’s pumpkin head was now glowing brightly with large menacing red eyes. It was a cool trick, if not a bit silly. “That’s enough…” Asuma said as the light quickly dimmed. He could have maintained it for a while, but the mask was sweaty enough as it was and he didn’t want to get any hotter.

“You definitely need to show it to Jenny if we find her!” Rexx said he started leading the group off in a random direction, the T-Rex suit flopping side to side with each step.

“Jennifer’s here?” quizzed Asuma, his interest suddenly piqued.

“Well… she might be. I asked her earlier, but she seemed unsure. She did go home early though, so maybe not.” Rexx was definitive as always.

“I hope so, I’d like to pass on that message from earlier.”

---

Niklas Amundsson.

---

Washington DC

“Senator Claire! Just the person I was looking for!” the booming low-pitch voice of the giant Niklas could be heard down the entire length of the large white corridor. Multiple suited individuals turned their heads at the sound, but only one of them was the individual that he was after. A stern looking woman in her early fifties, with a fading blonde bun, sharp angled glasses, and a modest navy blue suit-dress. This woman was Senator Madeline Claire, and she was responsible for Niklas being denied a warrant to search one of the Liu Pharmaceutical Company’s newest facilities.

“Hello Mr. Amundsson.” Her loathing of him was clear in her tone, as she sounded pained by his mere presence “What is it that you want?”

“I prefer Inspector Niklas. And I think you know what I want: I want an explanation as to why a senator is pulling strings to stop a United Nations Inspector from getting a warrant to search a private research facility.” His tone was equally confrontational, and the result was an atmosphere so thick with tension that you would need a saw to cut through it.

Her initial response was nothing more than a simply smirk, a sly curl of the lips which showed both her contempt and her confidence. “I know where you come from it’s a bit more communist, but here in America – in the land of the free – we respect the rights of our citizens! People have the right to liberty and to chase the American dream, and to have some god-damn privacy as they do so! Just because some stuck up beaurocrat thinks he has some authority, those rights should be impeded? I don’t think so.” Her patriotic rhetoric was nothing but methophoric feases to Niklas’ ears.

“That doesn’t exactly answer the question Senator.” He stated flatly. “May I remind you that TIMRA Inspectors were also blocked access to a number of facilities a couple of years ago that belonged to shell companies like ‘Mourning Dawn’ and ‘Fostech’, which we now know were Eco-Naturá facilities. By stopping us from carrying out these inspections, all you’re doing is increasing the likelihood of terrible, but preventable, events from occurring. It makes me wonder what your motivations are Senator…”

Senator Claires’ smile turned to a repressed snarl as other nearby congressmen seemed to overhear the nuanced accusation. “Watch your tone Inspector. You’re in my country now, and I can make life very difficult for you.” And with that she turned her back and began storming away, leaving her previously passive guards to stand to attention and block the way for Niklas.

“Threatening a United Nation’s Inspector? You really do have a large pair of balls don’t you Senator?” he yelled the remark loud enough to ensure it would reach as many ears as possible.

“That’s enough! You need to leave the building sir, or else we will have to use force.” The jar-headed guard spitting the order was a beefy guy, but he still stood a few inches short of Niklas. Niklas felt like trying the guard but resisted the temptation, knowing that should the other three guards step in (which they almost definitely would) that he would have the crap beat of him – if not worse. Without bothering to say anything else, Niklas turned and made his way towards the exit with the aggressive guards in toe. Once he was out of the building he would need to make his way to Baybridge and the DOVE HQ – the only place he was likely to get any sort of help.

---

---

Strongriver Plaza, Hedgemount

The nightclub door creaked open.

“Yes? Oh, Aegis. You’re right on time.” Said a tall, beautiful blonde within.

Rhea nodded, pulling out a cardboard parcel from her bag. “I have something from a sister brothel for you. Manager’s eyes only.”

The lady regarded the package with curious eyes, holding it gently in her manicured hands. She thanked Rhea, and closed the door. The courier turned away, into the alley and back up the wall. Instead of heading home, as she normally would, she crept onto the nightclub’s roof. There was a certain air vent that carried voices extremely well, and Rhea held her ear against it.

The package she ran, it was ranked SSS — highly classified. Those packages started at $10,000 minimum to be couriered, and in her time of running she had only come across two. They typically held government spy intel, or something of a very dangerous nature. So, undoubtedly, Rhea was curious.

Voices whispered up from the vent.

“... want those bathrooms scrubbed by…”

“...package? Give it here, let me see…”

The silence drew on for several minutes. Rhea gently adjusted her squat, surveying the rooftop before pressing her ear to the grate.

“...Oh my god! Oh my... This has to get to Headquarters, now.”

“...what is it? Ma’am, what’s…”

“...huge threat… danger in Roseview… they won’t see it…”

Rhea heard the nightclub’s front door open. She peered over the edge as three women and one beastial metahuman stormed down the sidewalk, disappearing into a waiting limo. They drove off, tires screeching. Rhea blinked, her lips parted uselessly.

---

Havenfield Market, Roseview (7:35pm)

Having showered and dressed into something more appropriate, Rhea stood at the edge of the Harvest Festival. She sported a short white dress with a near-transparent moth wing cape. They came with a wire woven into the top of the wings and little hand loops if Rhea wanted to pretend-fly.

She checked in at the front and descended into the hustle of people and lights, drifting among the stands and shows. In the back of her mind, that ominous conversation replayed. She would keep an eye open, to be sure. That didn't mean, however, that she wouldn't enjoy herself. The crowds, the performances, and all the trinkets to peruse! This would be a night to remember.

---

Rowan Campbell, & Wendy Emily Lucker.

_{Written in collaboration with @Zombiedude101}

---

Havenfield Market, Roseview.

While seeing Diana in person comes around rarely, of course Wendy could afford to spend a little time with her friends.

It's not like the world will end soon or anything crazy.

Wendy and Rowan were walking side by side... shoulder to shoulder since both of them were around the same height. The woes of being so tall. Though, Wendy couldn't be so self conscious when she's in the presence of friends. She walked with a camera in hand, and hoped that she had something to take a picture of. There wasn't that much that she didn't already have - and she feared that her online photo album was getting stale-

"... Hold up, there's another one of these carnie stalls-" Rowan had caught a glimpse of another game in the crowd, this one for a target which lit up a buzzer.

A wicked grin formed on Wendy's face. This was a little irresponsible use of power... and while there are better uses for them, cutting loose was a little fun. But, oh. This time Wendy's going to lend a hand. She had an idea, but she needed some electricity in order for her to switch... and no, she didn't want to sap some energy out of her camera.

"Oh, do you have any batteries or something on you?" Wendy asked.

It was an odd request, though Rowan had quickly figured what she meant. After a quick fumble through his bag, he felt something close ."Uh... yeah, actually!" He pulled out a pack of AA batteries that he'd snagged a few days before, offering them out to her.

Wendy quickly took the batteries, and went to work. She put the positive side of the batteries up as she clenched them tightly in her hands, and her other hand hovered over them with the fingers tilted a bit. There was a small spark coming out of the batteries as she drained them of their contents, and activated another power by exposing herself to a different element. The electricity traveled up her arm - fortunately this long coat covered it up - and then vanished a few moments later.

With a proud look on her face, Wendy smirked at Rowan.

"I'm ready."

She was glad that he was able to help her a few months back. She went from spewing lightning on everything, to having some form of percision. Which opens up endless possibilities.

"Let's liberate some tickets, shall we?" Wendy asked with a snicker.

With an equally smug grin, Rowan headed down to the stall and rested an elbow on the counter, drawing the attention of the idle owner. "How much?" he asked.

"Five dollars fer' three throws, hit the bullseye to win tickets." It was an easy con for these people, Rowan had figured - half the time they were rigged up not to go off, even if you actually hit the target. "Sure," he said, fishing around for a few dollar bills, before finally setting them on the counter.

The stall owner quickly counted the bills, before shoving three baseballs in front of him. Glancing back to Wendy for a moment, Rowan picked up the first baseball, drew his arm back, then aimed it for the target.

With a heavy thunk, the baseball slammed against the center of the target - yet the buzzer remained dulled and silent...

... For an instant. Wendy knew the signals that Rowan was sending her exactly. She leaned up against the stand, and looked behind her. Using her electricity... she could expand her mind in ways not expected. She could see the very flow of electricity merely by releasing a little bit into the air. She tapped her finger on the stand, and released a little bit of electricity. She quickly manipulated the buzzer in the back of the bullseye with an electrical signal, and....

A loud sound pierced the air as Wendy activated the seemingly disabled buzzer. Red lights flashed, and it was telling Rowan that he was a winner. Briefly grinning at Rowan, Wendy's demeanor quickly changed to an excited schoolgirl. She started hopping up in the air, and clapped her hands.

"Rowan, you did it!" She congratulated him. Well, he did win.

"Thanks," he shrugged, radiating with satisfaction. Meanwhile, the stall owner gave the both of them a strange look, furrowed his brow and gave off an irritated sigh, before retrieving a wad of tickets to hand over to them, "Here's your tickets, uh-"

"Hold on, I've got two more throws, right?" Rowan said, cutting in with a certain sharpness to his tone.

"Riight..."

"Alright, then." Picking up the second baseball, he decided that they were going to milk this for all it was worth - not like the guy would've done the same to them if their places were switched....

Finally, by the time Rowan had used up his last throw, they'd earned enough tickets to leave the stall owner red-faced. As the two walked away, laughing, he looked ready to flip and start yelling at them, but they'd soon disappeared within the crowd. "Nice aim you've got there," Rowan chortled.

"Oh, thank you, I got it from all the picture taking I do." Wendy replied with a coy smile. "Did you see the look on his face? He was about to explode.." She chuckled.

"Trust me, that guy's nothing compared to some people..." Rowan remarked, his tone almost trailing off with a strangely darker note. "But yeah, fuck 'em - I've seen those carnies rob kids blind all the time."

That change in tone didn't go unnoticed by Wendy. She looked over at Rowan, and wanted to ask something... but, she didn't want to press on too much about it, and bring up back memories.

"Technically, we did win these tickets... he just didn't want to give them up fair and square," Wendy said. "Anyways, what are we actually going to do with these tickets? Buy a giant stuffed bear?" She knew that was a lame idea, but come on. What else is there?

To that, Rowan shrugged, "I dunno, what is there? You won 'em as much as me, get a stuffed bear if you want."

"Actually, how about we grab some funnel cake?" She just thought out loud.

"Funnel cake?" Rowan asked, with an arched brow.

Wendy stopped in her tracks.

"... You don't know what funnel cake is?" She asked, amazed.

"Uh, not really. Never had a chance, y'know? What's in it?"

"It's..." Wendy tried to explain. "Fried cake batter, it tastes a little bit like a doughnut, except it's really sweet. They put sugar powder on it, and you can ask for stuff like caramel, and cherry syrups...."

Damn, now Wendy really wants some funnel cake.

"Come on, I'll show you!" She grabbed onto his wrist, and carried him off towards the last funnel cake stand she'd seen.

---

Malik Jakane, Rhea Harlow, & Charlie Peterson.

---

Havenfield Market, Roseview.

Heading to the DOVE exhibit was rather hard when there was so many people in the way. Malik himself regretted not buying a costume so he'd blend in... Then again, he'd look ridiculous when he's talking to the badass RAVENS! He could only hope that they know something about where Marcella is, or he's going to be in trouble. He may have to get a little desperate and talk about this strange "Founding Family" that Marcella spoke of. Honestly, he didn't know much about them other than the fact that they're a threat... and sounded kind of funny.

Though, there was a massive crowd in the way. Huh? Malik was curious, if he had to be honest with himself. He wanted to give it a look, if it was worthy of this crowd, then it had to be great. Who knows, maybe he found the DOVE exhibit!

Casually scrolling through the crowd until the African-man reached the "eye" of the crowd, Malik got a good view of what amassed the crowd, and scratched his head. It was some kid dressed as a discount Mickey Mouse, doing some fancy card tricks. Certainly nothing for the traversed Malik Jakane to write home about, but maybe he needs to take a break.

Every hero needs their rest, after all.

"Next!" Someone shouted, and Malik was "brave" enough to step up.

It wasn't bravery, it was curiosity. Malik was the heart of any crowd.

"Hey now!" Malik shouted as he walked up. "I'll step up to the challenge!" He loudly shouted as he sat down across from Charlie.... then quietly said, "... Whatever you're doing."

Charlie smiled as another person took interest in his hobby.

"Cool, how about this, take this deck." Charlie held out his hand miming him holding a deck of cards. "It's sealed... Oh and invisible."

Hmph. Sounds interesting. Malik took the cards, and wondered where he was going with this

"Awesome now pretend you are opening the deck, and pulling it out, and shuffling it."

Right off the bat Malik was less than impressed. All this for a crowd? Malik himself could do the easiest parkour tricks and then gather three times this crowd. But he was going to play along.

"Now fan through and find one you like. Don't tell me, just put it back in the invisible deck upside-down, return it to the box and then toss it to me."

Malik himself, despite all his travels, never really played poker, so he couldn't really tell which card was what. So, while shifting through the deck, he pulled out the three of diamonds.

Charlie caught the invisible deck and with a flick of his wrist a real one emerged in his hands. He rubbed his forearms, warming them to get the nerves under control.

"What was your card?" Charlie opened the real deck and spread the entire thing out face-up onto the table. One card, was face down in the entire deck. "Flip it..."

There was a part of Malik that knew where this was going. He's seen a lot of interesting things, and this was the least impressive. He flipped the sole card over, and - surprise - it was the three of diamonds.

"See there is a reason you picked that card, and as many of the crowd know already I don't play fair." Charlie flipped the deck face down in a flourish and handed Malik his card. "What if I told you, you never had a choice." Charlie flipped the deck once more to reveal 51 three of diamond cards.

"Ooooooh...." Malik said, he honestly didn't see this coming. "Well, if you told me that, I'd think you're kinda crazy." Malik playfully said to the boy.

“Invisible decks? That’s a new one.” Said a voice from a crowd. A young woman, dressed in white with a butterfly wing cape moved to the front, offering Charlie a crisp bill. “If you can double this $50, I’ll buy you a drink and let you keep it.”

Charlie snatched the $50 from the woman and, smiled. He smelt it then exclaimed to the crowd

"This, this was a good year." He then proceeded to shove the bill into his mouth. "One second." He said pushing the rest of the bill into his mouth, he then proceeded to chew. Then he held up one finger as his face twisted sour. He then reached into his mouth with both hands and grabbed the end of the bill, he pulled it out slowly. Revealing one side showing $100. Then he pulled it out of his mouth and snapped it high for the crowd. "Sorry, you never specified how you wanted it done." He said as he handed her the bill trying not to show pain in the fact that he just gave a stranger $50. Oh well he just made a fortune off of that swindler earlier. "And I figured this is quicker than investing in stocks."

Rhea failed to hide the ‘ew’ expression on her face as she was offered a crumpled, wet $100. She shook her head, gesturing he take it back. “I believe you’ve more than earned it, for that trick. Bills are… well, far from sanitary.”

The young lady smiled. “I’m Rhea, by the way. I owe you a drink.”

"Charlie, and you owe me a drink." He smiled and continued on with Rhea in search of relaxation.

"Uh, yeah, doesn't he look a little young for that?" Malik said, scratching his head. He had a limited knowledge of American laws, but he knew that much. But, they seemed to have wandered off, and the crowd was dispersing. Oh well, Malik found this whole encounter strange. It wasn't even a good distraction!

A tent strung with lights had some empty patio seats and the promise of cold drinks. Rhea and Charlie approached the entrance, only to be stopped by a buff, tall bouncer.

"Sorry lady, but your friend doesn't meet the age requirement. I can't let him in." He said.

Rhea rolled her eyes. "I won't buy him any alcoholic drinks. There's no fault in letting him sit here."

The bouncer didn't budge. "Ma'am, I'm sorry, but this is policy."

Rhea raised an eye brow, a wry smile on her face. "How much are they paying you here?" She reached into her pocket and pulled out a wad of bills. "I want you to take this, and my friend and I are gonna bullshit pleasantly in your patio; he won't be drinking."

The man's jaw dropped, and he quickly stashed the bribe. "Please make yourself at home."

A Peach Bellini and a Roy Rogers were ordered for a table for two. Rhea shifted in her seat, happily sipping her drink. Her eyes curiously appraised the magician across the table. “Sorry about that. I gotta say though, you know how to attract a crowd. What got you interested in street magic?"

Charlie relaxed in his seat, finally he was out of the spotlight. "Umm I guess it was the wonder I felt. When you see normal humans do things that mimic meta-humans on a small scale it just makes you think. Maybe I'm not so smart after all." Charlie was having a hard time answering the question, why did he enjoy challenging himself with trivial things? "How about you? What do you enjoy doing for fun?"

“Wonder, huh? Sounds like it’s a passion for you. For myself... Well, I study. Always learning this and that. And I enjoy gardening. At this time of the year, however, my garden isn’t near as lush. Lost a strawberry plant last week.” Rhea chuckled. “Not as flashy as wowing people with magic, right?”

"Well maybe if you study aloud to your garden it will grow?" Charlie took a sip of his Roy Rogers. "I mean, strawberries are overrated, they're the only fruit with their own milk flavor." Charlie smiled at himself, he was pretty on top of it today. "Why the butterfly wing?" He asked pointing at Rhea's costume.

"Apparently classical music has the same effect." Rhea smirked. "Not that I try to interfere with the garden too much; it's fun watching life grow without help."

Ugh, he's not going to understand that at all. The healer chided herself. We're not discussing metahuman-anything here; that's as bad as politics.

Charlie noted her costume, and she pulled up one of the feather-light pieces. "I think it looks cool without being cumbersome. And white's my lucky colour." She gestured to his hat. "I understand your get-up though, it's perfect for your acts."

Charlie chuckled,and then let out a fake laugh. "Right..."

What did she mean without help...

Charlie was embarrassed "Huh, yeah.. I just kinda like the retro look to be honest." Charlie pushed the hat up out of his eyes despite his slightly red face. "I just like to be able to impress with my human abilities. Even if it doesn't do the job 100% of the time."

Rhea frowned at that. "Human abilities? You couldn't have just said skills? Why define it with...." Her eyes lit up. "Oh... You're a little more than a street magician, Charlie. Aren't you?"

"I umm." Charlie stuttered the entire way through Rhea's thought, getting more embarrassed by the minute and then when she came to he relaxed. "In ways." he said as he pulled a rubik's cube from the inside pocket of his robe. "Do you know what this is?" he asked and before she could even answer he handed it to her and said "Mix it please."

“Ah, one of the most frustrating toys of my childhood.” Rhea winked. She took the cube and mixed it under the table, turning over the pieces countless times. When she offered it back, the cube was a mess of coloured squares.

It was almost too easy for Charlie, he took the cube from her with confidence. "Ready? I am going to toss this," He mimed with the cube in his hand behind the back. "One hand behind my back and you're going to catch it solved." He smiled at her as she got ready. Then he pulled the cube quickly and without hesitating he swung while solving it one handed. Threw it in one motion behind his back and over his far shoulder and towards Rhea's open hands.

It landed in her grasp, perfectly solved. She inspected it, an incredulous look on her face. Not a single facet was out of place, despite her meticulous mixing. "Wow. I couldn't do that in a million lifetimes. Do you have some type of... I don't know, cerebral ability? It would have to be something that lets you calculate exceedingly fast."

He smiled "Sort of. Mostly just memorization of algorithms and a ton of practice but yeah you guessed it. I do have some help." Almost ashamed to admit he was a meta-human. It somehow made it feel less spectacular."You could do it with a little practice I'm sure." Charlie smiled and then asked "I could never watch plants die for fun in a million lifetimes, so you have that on me."

“Practice?” Rhea gave him a look. “That’s unlikely. I’m sure there’s more depth to what you’re capable of, beyond solving a cube quick.”

He mentioned her slip-up with the plants and Rhea couldn’t help but laugh. She had said too much. But, from the turn of the conversation, she discovered something about Charlie. He, very likely, was a metahuman.

“Very perceptive of you. Fine, I think you’ll be able to not hate me for this.” She leaned forward, elbows resting on the table. Her voice was a low whisper. “I’m a meta-healer.”

"Really? Awhhh that explains the whole... Okay we're on the same page now." Charlie sighed. Thankfully she was another meta-human he was beginning to worry she was just a bit off, though that's still not out of the question. "Well, my umm, power. Is on the bottom of your napkin." Charlie pointed to her drink.

Rhea's eyebrows knitted as she gave Charlie a confused look, then glanced at her napkin. Flipping it over, she read aloud, "Brewsters, everything tastes better with— hey..." She facepalmed, a blush to her cheeks. "Apparently, I take you too seriously."

"I know but that would've been like mind blowing right?" Charlie chuckled, he loved doing that. "I'll put it bluntly," he said as he leaned in and gazed at Rhea. "Premonition." And just as Charlie finished he felt it. A sudden shift, danger, from the left of him. He wasn't concentrated enough to know what, but it was too soon to leave so he braced for the worst.

"Hey punk, what the fuck do you think you're doing?!" A enormous bouncer grabbed Charlie by the collar and pulled him out of his chair. Sadly this friendly drink couldn't last forever.

"I was just enjoying a soda with a friend, mister bouncer sir." Charlie fumbled with his words, embarrassed he was making a scene.

"Really? I can smell the alcohol on you." The bouncer sneered, spit all over Charlie's face. The bald brute didn't know who he was dealing with, but it's hard to be intimidating in a fantasia outfit. Charlie nudged the hat out of his eyes and scowled.

Ugh, a new one. Great timing for a shift change. Really. Rhea pursed her lips, leaving a few bills on the table to cover the drinks. She glanced at the new staff, tapping Charlie's shoulder. "Relax. We were just leav—"

"No listen here dollface, I deal with pieces of shit like you two every god damned night. You think just because there is a festival I let my guard down? No fucking way." With every syllable more spit flew from the guards mouth, and more rage built up in Charlie.

"Look just because you have a tiny dick doesn't give you the right to blame everyone else." Charlie mouthed off to the man who was ruining what was going to be a wonderful evening. Without hesitation the guard lifted struggling Charlie off of his feet and headbutted him. Charlie went limp, dazed and concussed. The guard then proceeded to, despite the jeers from the room, carry the man out of the tent and into the busy street.

Rhea followed them out, leveling a cold gaze as the bouncer stomped back into his bar. "Yeah, I'll see you in court, buddy."

"I'll be a witness!" Said a voice in the amassing crowd.

Charlie lay in the grass, mumbling. Rhea glanced around before gently pulling Charlie's arm over her shoulder. "Let's get you to the First Aid tent."

They walked away from the crowd at a slow pace. Rhea shot another quick glance before moving them to a small area between two tents. "Kidding, I'm the best first aid around. Just sit here, kay?" Rhea said, moving her hands over Charlie's head. Small sparks of light jumped from her fingers. 40 seconds later, Rhea checked in. "How's your head?"

"Good, but swallowing is $5 extra." Charlie said relieved as the pain and confusion dissipated. "Thank you... Sorry I got us into that mess back there." He smiled at Rhea and stood up slowly.

Rhea's brows shot up. "Well, you got hit harder than I thought." She stood, pulling out a phone. "It's fine, really. That was, to be honest, quite messed up. But I enjoyed the drinks. Can we keep in touch?" She offered Charlie her phone, a new contact page open.

Charlie smiled at her as he took the phone. "Well only if it doesn't end the same way." He said smirking as he plugged his info into her phone and then texted himself 'Rhea'. "Alright it's all set up, have a good one, i'll see you around." Charlie waved and smirked as he walked out from between the tents.

Rhea nodded, leaving to walk in the opposite direction. "Yep, I'm off to complain about that jackass. Enjoy the festival!"

---

Nick O'Connor

---

---

Havenfield Market, Roseview.

Too many people. This was stupid, this was stupid. Why was he doing this?

Nick knew perfectly well why he'd dragged himself to this halloween themed party, surrounded by the hustle and bustle of strangers, without so much as one soldier in a backpack for protection. The damn drawing effect, or whatever it was that made him always expose himself to people without wanting to. Being a hermit was hard for a metahuman.

His costume was about the laziest thing he'd ever been a part of - his grey hoodie, an old pair of boxing gloves, and... that was it. "Rocky", he muttered halfheartedly to anyone who asked about it. Maybe he should have gone as 'Bug-Man' or some shit and coated himself with his pets; that would have been convincing, at least. And safer. But it probably would have got him shot by a security guard, so... better he hadn't.

He was shaken out of his self-pity by some drama unfolding next to him. A bunch of kids were beating a hasty retreat from some shouting carny who seemed to believe that they were snot-nosed brats who had cheated him. Nick cleared his throat and stepped up to the counter good-naturedly, chuckling awkwardly to himself. "Eh, kids'll be kids... right?"

The carny's red-faced glare fixed on him silently, and Nick beat a hasty retreat back into the crowd.

---

---

The DOVE exhibit was going swimmingly, Cindy observed the whole thing from the sidelines. Not too many people paid her too much attention – oddly enough. Since she's one of the premiere DOVES. The girl that's worked her way to appearing on television, and being the face of Baybridge's DOVE branch. All through being so excellent at her job. Though, even being a DOVE was a dirty business. Finishing her hotdog, she threw the wrapper in the trash. She crossed her arms, as she gazed across the exhibit.

Though, things took a turn once the microphone at the stage turned on.

Cindy whipped her head around towards the stage, and saw Deborah manning the podium, with Shannon at her side. Looking good in that suit, as she adjusted the microphone. She looked at Deborah, and quickly ran over to the stage, and took her side on the stage. She had to keep making appearances, after all.

Everyone in the DOVE exhibit looked at Deborah, and she merely cleared her throat as she prepared her speech. Everyone almost immediately recognized her. She was the true face of DOVE, after all.

"Welcome everybody, I'm glad that you all are enjoying the DOVE exhibit... that wasn't really me, that was Marianela and Cindy here." She flashed the group with a disarming smile. Oddly enough, Deborah didn't speak like a woman that had a stick up her ass, and tried too hard to be "professional." "Surprised? I decided to come here to deliver a speech addressing the current state of events regarding the ever-changing Metahuman politics."

She casually laughed.

"DOVE was created in response to the greatest tragedy that has happened in recent years: the Verthaven disaster-"

Just the mere mention of that event made Cindy cringe. People can speak about how horrible it was all they want. It was Cindy and her friends that were fighting for their lives. Wondering if they were going to make it out of it alive – and who was going to die next. It was just something that just annoyed it. She tried her best to keep it to herself.

"-In which it became clear, that for the sake of everyone, the NEST institution was a flawed one. Not from the decision that made the disaster infinitely worse, but from the way Metahumans were treated as a threat... I'm Deborah Javuant, and that couldn't be anymore of a lie. I spent several years of my life at Academy 2-1-8, and there I learned that Metahumans and man had little differences. That's where I dedicated my life to NEST soon as I got out, rose through the ranks, and advocated for change in a broken, corrupt, system."

"My earlier attempts did not go anywhere, but they weren't ignored. When DOVE was created, the government specifically asked me to lead DOVE. Knowing about what it was, I gladly accepted the offer. I'm not going to lie when I say that it was overwhelming in the face of that disaster, but I made the lives of everyone much better. People still criticize the DOVE system, and that's one thing I have to accept, sadly."

"I discuss things with my college, Maximilian Cornell, and this is the best compromise between security, and freedom we could come up with."
"But, I wanted to say that we may be facing a dark time, but please, trust me: things will get better. Long as everyone stays strong, and refuses to falter in the face of monsters that may threaten them-"

Deborah stopped as her own danger-sense kicked into action. Premonition. She calls it. An overwhelmingly bad feeling when something's about to happen. She put her hand on her head, as she looked around. Every person gave her a different line of information but the one she wanted.. However, her eyes drifted up to the rooftops, where she vaguely saw a figure.

The Black Hound.

Her power immediately told her who it was.

"... Everyone get down!" Deborah said.

---

---

A subtle teleportation brought the hulking Black Hound to the festival.

It was a teleportation into a back alley. The celebration going on would only mask arrival. He stepped through the swirling blue portal, and then looked around. People were celebrating. With a threat looming over them. Amazing. The Black Hound had a sniper rifle firmly strapped to his back. Normally, the Founding Family has no business in an event like this, but the DOVE chairwoman was on a list.

Like almost all the other hits, the target was marked for death by the Blessed Three because they were a threat to the Founding Family. Lionel, Deborah, Maximilian, and leaders of the other Metahuman regulation agencies... they're all targets. Targets for the Black Hound, of course. Killing Lionel was easy, but Deborah? She was going to be a challenge. Because her powers are public knowledge at this point, and there was no way that getting the drop on her was possible. She could out-maneuver the Black Hound in ways unseen.

However, this wasn't a typical assassination....

But, that's a story for another day. The Black Hound moved his way up to the fire escape, and climbed to the rooftops. There were some RAVENS on patrol. However, they would be easy to dispatch. The Hound crouched-walked over to the nearest RAVEN, and quickly grabbed him – wrapping his arm around the large man's neck. Using his other hand to cover his mouth as he choked him out. He gently placed him behind an air conditioner, as he moved closer.

The Black Hound got to the edge of the roof, and pulled out his large sniper rifle. Now, this was where it got tricky. He lined up his sights with Deborah, and just waited... he could have taken the shot, but he was waiting....

"... Everyone get down!"

Bingo.

The Black Hound fired a shot off at Deborah – but it missed by a long shot, and hit the wall behind her. Leaving a sizable hole inside of it. He fired another shot, but it missed and hit the stage. He was about to fire another shot, when....

---

Okay, the worst case scenario has happened, and now they have a god damn boogeyman opening fire on them. When the first shot hit, the crowd panicked, but the DOVES and RAVENS kept a cool head. Deborah immediately dipped underneath the podium, and the Black Hound kept shooting. Which means it's up to Cindy to save the day.

Thank God Cindy planned in advance for this. Underneath the stage were several huge glass panes that Cindy placed down there. They were bulletproofed in advance, and all Cindy had to do was put them in the way. She raised both hands in the air, and levitated the glass panes towards her goal, and created a barrier of glass between herself and the Black Hound.

The mysterious man's eyes glowed bright red as he fired another shot. It hit the glass pane, and stopped dead in it's tracks. Looks like he's not getting through this the regular way.

"Go! Go! Go!" Cindy loudly shouted at Deborah as the glass barrier kept them from experiencing certain death. Deborah didn't waste any time in running off the stage, keeping her head down. While Cindy did the best she could to keep the shield up.

Civilians were hauling ass, she could afford to counter attack. She broke off a large triangle from the shield, and sent it flying at the Black Hound, spinning with extra penetration. The man caught the glass, and it drilled into his hand. Blood seeped from the armor, as he barely reacted. This was just a tickle. He clenched his fist and utterly crushed the glass, and threw the pieces onto the ground.

Cindy gasped as she did nothing to him – but this was their chance. RAVENS were approaching the Black Hound. She quickly followed Deborah.

This was going better than what the Black Hound could have hoped. They couldn't see it, but he was grinning. Time to advance their plans a little further. The Black Hound stood straight up, and pressed his earpiece.

"I require assistance... have Zenith send in the men."

On cue, portals had opened up around the festival. Masked men in similar armor to the Black Hound stepped out. They were the Founding Family's main force, all under the others of the Black Hound. Armed with all sorts of weapons.

"Our target is Deborah Javuant... however, RAVEN and DOVE have a very soft heart... target the civilians, and I'll have an opening," The Black Hound said. "However, keep the civilian casualties low... simply shoot around, and give them a scare... If I learn any children have been killed here, I'll feed you to the Blessed Three's machine myself."

That threat was enough to get his men in line as they launched their assault on the festival. Keeping the destruction harmless as possible, as they wildly fired around, and destroyed stands. The gunfire was enough to keep everyone tense.

"However.... any combatants are fair game...." The Black Hound said, as he reached towards his belt, and pulled out a canister... which would be familiar to those associated with RAVEN, as it was a canister of Metahuman suppressant gas.

He chucked the canister far as he could in the direction Deborah and her escorts were going in.
With one leap, the Black Hound hopped off the rooftop and landed with a massive thud that left cracks in the ground. He swapped out his sniper rifle for a M16 machine gun, and took slow steps through the festival. The wind was blowing his longcoat around with each step. Whenever someone saw him they were tremble, or dart in the other direction. It made him no difference. He marched towards Deborah regardless.

This wasn't over just yet.

---

Samantha Cole

---

---

Old Raygate, Prince Ed-Field.

Sam hunkered down in the doorway of one of Old Raygate's neglected factories. She guessed it would have been some kind of automotive plant, judging from the residual smell of oils and other fluids. Rust on the fittings, grime on the windows, and plants forcing their way through cracks in the parking lot all gave this property a time-of-death around a couple of years. She picked the cleanest spot of the arch and shimmied herself into a meager amount of comfort before popping the latch on her messenger bag.

The crinkling plastic of today's rations sent her back to the institution. It reminded her of the film she'd had to tear away from their mass-produced meal trays. She ate automatically, as if a reflex, like breathing. At this point in her life, she barely bothered to make note of what was in the package. These days, it was all about getting in and out before making a lasting impression on anyone.

The day's events replayed in her mind while she absently chewed. She was vaguely aware of the taste of oatmeal and raisins. The irony of having to subsist on junk food was not lost on her; especially as she involuntarily recalled how she'd refused her last client.

"I don't scramble police bands," she had said. "Whatever it is, you're gonna have to do it without me."

That thought made her chuckle. She would rip off countless marks for food money, but she wouldn't take a high-profile job that might have set her up for a year; maybe more. Her levity passed as she remembered his reaction.

"You had your chance."

Now that was an odd thing to say to someone you wanted to help you. At first, Sam had figured he and his buddies were going to knock over a jewelry store and didn't want the cops to be able to coordinate the chase. But the area of coverage and the scale of it...

She poked at her tablet half-heartedly and pulled up an area map of the target in question. There weren't many locations of any real value; just a lot of fairgrounds and such. Why should that pull the attention of any criminal with enough funds to request a communications blackout, never mind whether she could do it or not. She stopped chewing for a second and, just for that moment, could not get past that conundrum.

"Just 'cause I didn't do it, doesn't mean it didn't get done." Sam's voice of reason prodded her. She whisked away the area map and pulled up a few news sites. The absence of any notable events was a little too consistent for her liking. The only thing she found was a few promotional websites for some DOVE rally.

"Oh hell..."

---

---

Shizuka Takashiro, & Daphne "Holly" Hope.

---

---

DOVE/RAVEN Joint Headquarters, White Coast_

It had been months since Shizuka dropped by his own office - in fact, with how he was always abroad and could barely stay in Baybridge for more than a week before he had to leave again, this room was a mere display of his status within RAVEN, for formality sake. Although his rank wasn't as high as the likes of Cindy and Meifeng - his presence within the organization itself was barely noticeable save for a handful of colleagues whom he had worked with on/off, on occasions - he still did whatever he should to get his job done. If Cindy and Meifeng were the light illuminating the world with justice, then he would be the shadow, watching the backs of his comrades and supporting them from the dark.

Just like his callsign, 'Phantom'.

Other than the paperwork that had accumulated on the table during his long absence, everything else in the room didn't move an inch from their original position since the last time he popped by in early summer. At the very least, a place he could consider as his personal space while he was here.

He glanced to the door at the sound of a quick, firm knock, followed by a familiar drawl. "Shizuka?"

"Come in," was the silver-head's lazy respond.

The willowy frame of Daphne Hope - better known by her callsign 'Holly' - breezed into the room, and the door closing itself behind her with a soft click. "I was told to take a break off work today - there's a DOVE exhibit going on at Havenfield." Then she eyed the case on the table behind Shizuka. "But it seems like that will have to wait. What do you have for me this time?"

"Actually, it's a family thing," Shizuka said, gesturing to Holly to sit down. "This is to be kept just between you and me... even if I'm taking advantage of RAVEN's resources for something personal." He then pushed the case towards his senior.

Holly opened the case lid, her green eyes widened at the contents inside. "This..." Sitting inside the case was a neatly folded black silk robe, decorated with an artistic Chinese dragon embroidery in gold. She looked up at Shizuka, frowning at him. "Did you tell---"

"No," Shizuka cut Holly off curtly. "I can't bring myself to tell Haru. I cannot get him involved in this." He had sworn to himself to protect his brother at all costs, that he would not put him in the same danger as the Verthaven disaster.

One: it was the same dragon symbol that was tattooed on one of the victims that Shizuka had rescued from the first Overload incident at Havenfield months ago.

Two: next to the robe was a diary book of sorts; however, the words printed on the ragged leather cover was a name. A name that Shizuka knew too well, forever binding him to the past he could never escape from.

Asami Takashiro.

---

---

...

---

---

Unknown_

It had been days since the old woman visited the boy. The calligraphy papers that littered all around him on the stone floor were left as they were, where he simply lay himself down on top of them. The metallic chain around his ankle cuffs clinked against the stone ground when he rolled over; the light from the kerosene lamp fell onto his pale face, but those dark eyes were still lifeless, haunted by despair, by hatred...

He didn't bother to get up when he felt the floor beneath his body rumbled, and the groan of the door of his prison-like bedroom being pushed open. The only thing that moved was his gaze, shifting to the sight of the old woman, who was flanked on each side by her towering, heavyset bodyguards. "Don't look at me like that - I would have loved you to continue staying like this and be a good puppet, but unfortunately it is time to do your job."

The boy pushed himself off the ground slowly, the papers under his palm crumpled as he steadied himself, shifting his body into a sitting position. His eyes narrowed slightly at the woman, but his thin lips remained tightly shut.

"Even if most of the Spirits have accepted him as Yui's successor, he's really useless - he's nowhere near his mother's level," a high-pitched female voice spoke from behind the woman. A slim lady with blue fringe in her wavy hair wearing heavy, smoky makeup, in a slinky black dress and high heels. She placed her hands on her hips, sneering at him.

"My apologies, Miss Shui Xian," the old woman bowed her head slightly. "To allow the purity of our bloodline to be tainted and bring this shame to the family---"

"Whatever." Shui Xian rolled her eyes. She snapped her fingers, and one of the huge bodyguards threw down an A4-sized brown envelope before the boy. "This client is extremely important to me - to us, and you better not screw this up. The instructions and all are inside." With that, she turned on her heels and left.

"You have heard her - loud and clear," the old woman said, and the boy could pick up the hint of threat in her hoarse voice. "Polaris is expecting great things from you... 'Meng You'."

"...Stop calling me by that retarded name," the boy finally spoke up, his tone icy. "My name is Naoki Yagami."

---

Jennifer Caspin.

---

Havenfield Market, Roseview.

Jennifer realized how awkward this was.

A part of her wondered if she should just go back to the apartment and play games for the rest of the night. Well, she actually wondered where Reed was in all of this. She wanted to talk to him. He was the reason why she came here, after all. Though, she was going to keep her head down, and stay out of everyone's way. Lest she causes more problems. She reached into her pockets, and pulled out her Nintendo 3DS XL - an aqua blue. She started playing Super Smash Bros to pass the time.

However, someone took the stage, and everyone began crowding around. While she had the urge to play the game, she figured that she should at least listen, a little bit. She had nothing better to do other than play videogames, after all. She slid her DS back into the pockets of her hoodie as she slid over towards the stage.

The woman manning the podium was Deborah Javuant. The leader of DOVE. Jennifer has heard of her, Cindy and Meifeng spoke about her a few times. She was really influential, and had a power that made her some sort of master diplomat.

Honestly, Jennifer wasn't that concerned in the world of Metapolitics anymore. Because all she wants to do is live her life... but, she had to admit that the work of DOVE was at least trying to prevent the things that happened to her from happening to anyone else. The blonde-haired girl hung her head, and put her hands together.

No one should lose what Jennifer lost.

Jennifer listened to the best of her abilities, but honestly found herself getting lost in it. Getting lost in the crowd. Almost like she was waiting for it to be over before she went back to doing what she was doing before. Then she said it...

"DOVE was created in response to the greatest tragedy that has happened in recent years: the Verthaven disaster-"

That brought back hellish memories of what the Changeling Unit did to her. Her heart rate went up a little bit as she mulled on it a little bit. Even though she promised not to, she found it so hard. She spaced out. Disconnecting herself from the world around her.

However, when Deborah stopped talking. Jennifer knew that something was wrong. The girl was a powerful psychic, correct? She must sense something. Jennifer looked around, as she started generating bones out of her wrists that began to deform and poke through the skin that held them in bonds.

Ready to clash with the looming demon.

When Deborah shouted get down, Jennifer did just that. She got down. She was familiar with situations like. Bullets began to fly, and Cindy threw up a glass shield. That was enough to make Jennifer haul ass. This reminded her of the attack on the festival by the Fiends. That utter hell. She made sure to keep running.... but now, she had the ability to fight.

The festival was engulfed in chaos, and she could hear people dying left and right. Men in armor were running around shooting like maniacs.

Jennifer made bone blades burst through her skin that were the length of her arms, and flat at the very ends. She saw some of the men chasing after some kids, shooting at them... and reminded her of her ability. She rushed in from behind, and impaled one of the men on her blades far as they could go. They appeared from the other end of the man's chest, and he let out a death cry as Jennifer cut them off guard.

Jennifer quickly pulled the blades out and stabbed one blade into his cohort's eyeball. The blade was pulled out, and his eye came with it. He started flailing around screaming.

But, she couldn't surprise the third man, who shot Jennifer a few times with his assault rifle. The bullets dug into her skin, and made her screech in pain. However, she wasn't killed. It was a painful inconvenience... She fell to the ground, only so he would stop shooting her.

"Bitch."

The soldier said as he tried to tend to his wounded alley, but, Jennifer wasn't done. She wrestled her prehensile spine free, and grew a spear out of it. It was barbed in such a way that promoted excessive bleeding. She sent the spine flying, and hit the man through the lower back, and impaled him through the gut. He gasped in agony as he looked down, and Jennifer brutally ripped the spear out, and left the most barbaric blow in the man's gut.

She made a small bone blade pop out of her finger as she detached it. She willed the bullets out of her body with her flesh manipulation, and dug them out with her knife. With the obstructions gone, the wounds began to heal flawlessly.

Jennifer got up, and began running. Those kids were long gone.

Well, she saved them, right?

---

Veronica Emily Davis.

---

Havenfield Market, Roseview.

This was not the kind of place Veronica wanted to be, but she didn't trust a word that Asuma said.

So, on the suggestion of Makoto, they tailed Asuma to the festival... where he went with his friends. A mixture of people in ridiculous outfits making a fool out of themselves, and the fact that Veronica wouldn't be caught dead here has certainly made her annoyed.

The two women walked side by side... at this point, this kind of looked like a couple. She gaved at the older Japanese lady.

Veronica would rather shoot herself than accept that.

They've been following Asuma from a distance the entire time. They could afford to be closer since the crowds were acting as their cover. It was annoying since all Asuma was doing was hanging out with his co-workers. Eventually, they stopped so Asuma could do a light show.

If Veronica was functionally retarded, then his little pumpkinhead trick would have amused her.

Would have.

If she had to follow him all day in hopes that he's lying, Veronica would go mad from the stupidity. She would tear her hair out, and become a madman like that Luis fellow. Though, she had to refrain from going insane for the sake of her sisters... Saving them is her only objective.

For now, she'll have to put up with the menial jobs.

Veronica put her hand on her hip, and looked at Makoto.

"Do you mind keeping an eye on him while I go get a bite?" Veronica said, knowing that Makoto didn't care enough to say no.

"Alright, Veronica, I'll keep you posted." Makoto said.

She was going to wander off to get something to eat, then come back. The Black Hound doesn't watch her at all times, so she's fully capable of taking a break.

---

Instead of getting anything disgusting like a hotdog, or cheaply made carnival food. Veronica got something incredibly simple. She got a cherry lollipop from the stand, and strut her way down the pathways of these fairgrounds. This was hopeless, they were better off leaving here, and staking out the workplace some more for Jennifer. She was about to press her earpiece... when she remembered that she didn't even have the damn thing on. Oh yeah. She forgot it (Probably because she didn't believe she needed it in the first place). God damn it.

Fortunately, the women are savvy enough to carry phones around.

Veronica pulled the lollipop from her tantalizing lips as she scrolled through her contacts for Makoto. This phone was special as it was specially provided to her by the Black Hound to contact her friends from the Founding Family.

However, not putting on her earpiece would be a colossal pain in the ass.

There was a chain of explosions that rocked the area, as screams and shouts filled the air. Veronica wasn't frightened. Not even in the slightest. She was surprised. Wondering what in the hell was even going on. Who was attacking? Was it the Allegiance? The Pure? The Order? Veronica quickly dipped into an alleyway, and grabbed the pistol that was hidden in her purse.

She pressed her back up against the wall, and looked across at one of the soldiers that launched the attack. Specifically, the logo on their shoulder. The symbol of the Earth, with the DNA-symbol wrapping around it, and an arrowhead in the background. Veronica quickly narrowed her eyes once she recognized it.

The Intimidation Unit?

The Founding Family's personal security force, which Veronica was apart of herself. Damn that Black Hound. They were launching an attack here? Now? Why? And why wasn't Veronica informed of it? Damn it. Doesn't matter. She has to keep up this appearance for espionage purposes.

Quickly shifting through her phone, Veronica called Makoto, and the second that woman answered, she heard Veronica's wrathful voice.

"Makoto!" Veronica said. "Where are you?!" She asked.

"Why did you call me? Didn't you hear that I'm pulling out in the comms piece?" Makoto asked.

"... I don't have it on." Veronica said, irritated.

"Well, get the hell out of there, the Black Hound is going after that DOVE lady," Makoto informed Veronica. Of course, that would explain why he's here in full force with the Intimidation Unit. Either way, Veronica wanted none of it. Because she had to make sure that she's not connected to these goons, and...

Someone was running by, with bone blades protruding from her arms - bloody ones, at that - that had blonde hair. Veronica quickly pulled her photo out with her telekinesis. It looked exactly like her.

"... Makoto get over here now." Veronica said. "... I found our mark."

Suddenly, Makoto appeared directly besides Veronica. Apparently being very close by. She threw Veronica the peacesign.

"... Just making sure you don't get killed," Makoto flashed her a smile. "So, which way did she go?"

Veronica pointed in the direction of Jennifer.

"That way."

Makoto grabbed the chain that was hanging off her hip, and quickly ran after him.

---

Malik Jakane.

---

Havenfield Market, Roseview.

After the odd encounter with the card boy, Malik continued on his way to the DOVE exhibit. He had thrown his arms behind his head as he walked. This was some place, huh? Americans know how to party. Personally, the African celebrations have more flair to them. He was approaching the DOVE exhibit - and he saw some woman at the stage, talking like she owned the place. Huh? Wouldn't that mean....

Is she Deborah, the leader of DOVE?

The big wig's here! He read about her online. Malik knew that he couldn't get the attention of someone like that, but he could at least find a high-ranking DOVE. Well, he's a Metahuman, so they have to give him the time and place.

Though, he couldn't resist taking a selfie!

He turned his back to the scene, and angled the camera enough that Deborah and her big speech was off to the side. Malik smiled wide, and pressed the camera button. Laughing a little bit, he typed in a message for snapchat.

Hey, think I can score a date with the boss lady there?

Malik laughed a little as he sent the snap-

The shrill cry of Deborah's "GET DOWN" worried Malik, as he heard bullets coming from the rooftop. Malik panicked as he immediately rolled into cover. Just as the wave of panicked people came by, Malik quickly looked, and saw a massive glass shield, and the big DOVE lady making a break for it with some of her friends.

Then this dude just hopped down... Broke the ground as if it was nothing. That was kind of scary. Malik took a good hard look at the dude, and got very nervous. Okay, that's the Black Hound. Malik almost immediately recognized the hulking figure of the terrorist that was raising hell for the United Kingdom for months now. The dude's now here in Baybridge? Damn it.

Well, this just got a lot more exciting.

Malik's not a hero, but he certainly knew that the Black Hound was after the boss lady. If he saves her, maybe he could get the attention of DOVE enough for them to tell him about Marcella. Or he can die like an idiot. Well, if he was willing to get the attention of DOVE, this was the way to do it!

Something was telling him not to do it, but Malik shifted into his storm form. The wind around him began to blow around as his body began to come apart. As it began to flow like air. His skin and clothes turned into a grey cloud. His body just became a cloud shaped like himself. Constantly flowing and moving. An arc of electricity traveled from one part of his body, to the other.

Malik was finally a storm... the rain transformed. Malik took to the skies as he went after the Black Hound, maybe he can at least distract him.

---

---

Charlie was walking around the festival taking it all in, after that experience he needed a little time to breathe. However sadly this was not the case, even with all of the distractions around one person stood out. This girl... Infinitely beautiful, head to toe gorgeous, she was in the crowd at the DOVE exhibit. Charlie was infatuated, mouth agape and all he just stared. Should I talk to her? Should I do a trick? Don't stare! All thought going through his head as the whole world faded to black around this girl who was captivating his every whim.

Then suddenly, he sensed it, strong, he knew exactly what was coming, how far, everything he didn't want to know, he knew. Before he could even open his mouth the first shot was fired, he ducked instinctively. Then quickly he scrambled through his inside robe pockets and pulled out a pair of earbuds, frantically he put them in and plugged them into his phone. He played white noise as loud as he could, which dulled the screaming and other shots a bit but not totally. He took off running as soon as he sensed the man move nearer to him. Then he looked up, in all of the chaos portals were opening. Charlie dashed feeling every movement of the masked men in his core.

But before he could reach the edge of the street a portal opened right in front of him. Charlie fell back onto his palm and twisted around, bullets hit the concrete where he just was as he turned into a stand. Trying his very best to tune out the crowd and find a possible opening to bolt. He breathed heavily, telling himself he was going to get out of this okay. Then on a personal count of 3 he rushed back out into the havok, and straight into the back of a man who just came out of a portal. The man swung around and Charlie dodged backward out of the way. He sensed the bute swinging back again and he pushed the man with his momentum allowing the butt of his rifle to throw him off balance. He stepped on the side of the man's knee, assuming he broke the pivotal joint Charlie turned to run once more. But was greeted by two other men aiming their guns directly at Charlie's face. He backed up and dropped to his knees as they motioned he put his hat on the ground and held both hands open surrendering.

They pressed the barrel towards his neck and circled around flanking him. He heard faint yelling and shrieking, and sensed the men weren't going to let him go with just a warning. He pushed the barrels up with both hands forcing the grunts to fire into the air above each other. Then hopping to his feet he took both men at once, each throwing an assortment of punches, kicks, and strikes with their gun butts. Each blow missed and was returned by a strike of Charlie's own. After what seemed like ages of sensing and redirecting each of the attackers blows Charlie pacified the two men. Each on the ground in their own world of hurt, Charlie looked around to make sure both were down. He then turned around to continue running when he was greet by the butt of a gun.

His nose broke, and began to bleed, Charlie stumbled backwards, earbuds falling out of his ears he lost a great portion of his ability to sense what came next. The broken man stood hobbling on his one good leg as he aimed the barrel at Charlie. But just as he fired Charlie pushed the gun barrel to the side sending a bullet off into the street. He delivered a precise blow to the man's chest only to find it was armored, and the masked man punched Charlie in the jaw as a response. His custom deck of cards with his name on the box fell out of his pocket and onto the street, spilling the cards everywhere. Charlie retaliated and went straight for the man's throat this time and punched his adam's apple with a force. The man collapsed and gasped for air. Charlie didn't want to know whether or not he broke the man's windpipe and took off once more. He ran through alley after alley, avoiding whatever gunfire he heard and trying to detect anything dangerous in his route away from here.

---

The Black Hound.

---

Havenfield Market, Roseview.

All this chaos....

The Black Hound was the direct cause of it... His very presence was enough to strike fear into the hearts of innocent people. All they saw was the symbol of the snarling hound on his chest, and they would start running.

In this case, all they wanted to do was get the hell away from him.

Which was fine with the mysterious man. He prefers that he keeps things clean. Especially with a plan like this... The Black Hound began marching towards the massive glass shield placed between himself and his target. It wasn't going to do much to stop him. Barely even slow him down. He pulled his fist back, and punched clean through the glass. The barrier shattered to pieces - an utter rain of glass.

It fell on the titanic man, and didn't even bother him. His armor, and durability made it impossible for such a minuscule attack to even bother him. Once he stepped out, he brushed all the glass off, and continued his march as if nothing had happened.

The Hound was closing the distance between himself, and Deborah, but at this rate, the Black Hound would catch up to them. As he was already informed of where the DOVE vehicles were in the area. So, he already knows where they're heading.

Bringing his march to a sprint that no normal human should be able to reach, the Black Hound charged through the festival... Everyone gave him room. Members of the Intimidation Unit stepped aside, while people ran away in fear.

Until he came face to face with his "target."

Deborah Javuant was desperately being carted to a vehicle. When they noticed him, they all pulled out their weapons, and opened fire on the Hound. The barrage of bullets barely phased the Hound, he put his arm up over his face, and dipped behind cover.

The Black Hound grabbed a canister of Meta-Suppressant gas, and tossed it in their general direction. However, he quickly lunged out of cover with his revolver in his hand, and then he shot the canister. The high pressurized gas blanketed the area in a thick layer of red fog.

"Run!" Cindy shouted.

The Black Hound merely used the red gas as cover... but, he couldn't see that well in it himself-

There was a massive wind coming from above. Just before the Black Hound could do anything, he was launched aside with a massive gust of wind. He went crashing into the stands, which utterly decimated them.

The gas was being pushed aside... annoying. The Black Hound looked up, and saw a man overhead.... no, not a man. A cloud shaped like a man. He had his arms crossed, and his lower body appeared like a spinning vortex.

"I'm going to hold him off, move!"

Malik shouted at the DOVES... who were honestly confused as to who he was.

The Black Hound got up, slinging his assault rifle over his shoulder... and an odd robotic laughter came from his helmet. One that would unnerve even the hardiest of souls. He looked up at Malik, and the scanners in his helmet examined him from head to toe... There wasn't anything in the files on him. Which means he's an ambiguity to the Intimidation Unit, and the Founding Family.

"Well now," The Black Hound said. "You're willing to risk your life to buy time for them to escape?" He asked.

"I have a good reason for doing all of this," Malik said... trying to buy into the Black Hound's banter to avoid pissing himself. "But, I have to ask... do you? Do you see all of this? All these lives you're ending?" He tried to appeal to some kind of humanity within the Hound.

Those words struck deep into the Black Hound.

... No.

The words appeared in his mind's eye, but he remained silent.

"... That's irrelevant." The Black Hound said. "If you're willing to stand in my way, you're willing to die." He quickly aimed his assault rifle at Malik, and fired off a few shots before he could react.

The man barely had time to react before the bullets went at him. Most of them missed (Man, was this guy trained in the Stormtrooper Academy?) but one of the shots nailed him in the sides. Malik let out a loud cry as he descended. He shifted back into his human form, and hit the ground hard as a rock.

The man whimpered in pain while on the ground. The Black Hound took a few steps forward, and looked off to the side... Deborah and her group had escaped.

... The plan couldn't have gone better.

The Black Hound turned his attention to Malik, who was on the ground... maybe he'll spare this one. He marched towards him at a slow pace.

"You risk your life to battle a terrorist, to buy time when you could be saving yourself," The Black Hound started off, each step brought him closer and closer to the pained wreck that was Malik. "But, for what? You state you have good reasons... is it altruism? Or some other agenda?"

His voice was oddly more robotic than usual... yet, his tone was curious, rather than condescending.

"Which is real?"

---

Lihua Zhao, & Charlie Peterson.

_{(Written in collaboration with @DreadPirate)}

---

Havenfield Market, Roseview.

The celebration was going swimmingly for the Zhao Matriarch.

It wasn't a place where Lihua herself wanted to be - to be honest, she would rather spend this night drinking herself to sleep - but she was at least happy that Lijuan was enjoying herself. At least, even slightly, get the child walking again. She walked through the area... and quickly realized that there wasn't much for them to do other than play some games.

Speaking of which, Lijuan pulled her mother over towards one of the carnival games. It was simply a game where someone mans the water guns, and tries to fill up the balloons. She wanted to try it. Lihua wanted to avoid the carnival games - because most of these people are so utterly dishonest that they would cheat for a quick buck. But, Lijuan gave her the eyes.

Those huge brown eyes, with her thick eyelashes and that dramatic look in her eyes. Most people would refer to them as "puppy dog eyes." It was enough to always win Lihua over, and warm that cold heart of hers.

"Alright, Lijuan," Lihua said as she began to willingly walk over towards the carnival game. She handed the cheap carnie five dollars as he requested, and Lijuan squeed in delight as she manned one of the water guns. The lights came on, and Lijuan shot squirts of water into the targets.

Lihua herself leaned up back against the stand, and crossed her arms as her vigilant eyes scanned the area around her. She wasn't going to let her guard down here of all places. She got a few looks... but nothing more than what she was used to. Ah. Being a six-two woman was bound to produce that kind of response.

Not that it bothered the aging tiger... She had more important things to worry about-

Gunfire rung out in the distance, and Lihua's eyes immediately narrowed. She could sense danger. People were screaming in the distance. That meant something was attacking. It wasn't long before men waving guns around appeared in the scene. Lihua instinctively grabbed Lijuan's wrist, and ducked down. Using her free hand, she punched the ground hard as she could, and flipped some concrete up to form some cover for herself.

If any stray shots were to go her direction, there was a thick slab of concrete to protect herself and from anything.

Lihua didn't know what was going on, but the stone was large enough to allow other people to take cover. Lijuan was utterly panicking, screaming at the top of her lungs. The child just didn't have the ability to deal with things like this - which is why Lihua pulled her daughter in close as she could, and wrapped her arm around her. Pressing her head against her ribcage.

"It's going to be okay, mommy's here."

She said in the most reassuring voice she could - and she sure as hell meant it. There was such a massive crowd of people running around, that Lihua saw an opening. She yanked Lijuan along as she beelined for an alleyway. Instead of rushing right into danger, Lihua made sure to keep as much awareness of the enviroment as she could.

Okay, her plan was to take alleyways back to her car, and get the hell out of here.

Charlie tried his best to remain calm as he dipped in and out of alleyways. In order to keep his premonition and nerves in check he needed to remain calm. His mind was racing as he pushed anything in his way aside, those goons most likely called their other goons about him. Which made him a target, something he didn't want to be in the slightest. Just as he thought he saw an empty road where he could get his bearings, he tripped. He tumbled and looked back to see what caused the fall.

One of those masked men had pushed a heavy box in his path. Charlie scrambled hands and legs backwards on the ground. He was immediatle booted in the back of the head. Two goons,the other moved quickly to his position on the ground and began barking at him. Charlie had no idea what the man was shouting, as his head spun. Then the man fired a shot off near him. His ears rang, he was overwhelmed, no defense mechanism to help him brace. The two began kicking and beating Charlie as he squirmed on the dirty concrete of the alley.

The nearby shot caught Lihua off guard as she looked over her shoulder. There was some boy being beat within an inch of his life by some of these goons. There was something inside of her that prevented her from just running off, right when she could help. She covered Lijuan's eyes with one hand, and raised her fist up in the air, and slammed it down hard as she could - like she was hammering something in the air.

It caused spikes of concrete to violently erupt out of the ground, and turn the men into pin-cushions. When their screams of pain pierced the air, that should be enough to turn the tides of that fight.

Holy fucking shit Charlie's eyes widenened as the concrete pierced his attacker's skin. He gasped for air and wiped the blood from his face, he struggled to his feet and stumbled to the nearest wall. His eyes looked down the alley at a mother and her daughter. He tried to shout thanks but only dropped to his knees coughing up blood.

Apart of Lihua just wanted to leave him there - but, there was something oddly familar about the boy. As if she's seen him around. Oh... It's Charles. She wanted to protect Lijuan, but she couldn't in right conscious leave a student behind. That's the funny thing about morale compasses. "Lijuan, cover your eyes." The child did just that as Lihua quickly approached..

"Take it easy, Charles," Lihua said. "If you get up too fast, you'll only hurt yourself some more."

Charlie looked up inbetween coughing at his new instructor, what luck, great way to make an impression. He attmpted to stand as slow as possible using the wall to steady himself. "Thanks." He was able to choke out in between winces.

Her mouth opened up as if she was about to say something - but changed her mind at the last second. "You're coming with me." Lihua bluntly said as she grabbed him by the arm. "And you better not bleed all over my car... do you know how hard it is to get blood off carpet? You're going to need detergent, ammonia, cold water-" She stopped herself there.

In defeat, Lihua merely just yanked Charlie along. "Just come with me!"

Pulling Charlie along from alleyway to alleyway, Lihua eventually made it to the parking lot where her brand new SUV was parked (And yes, it was covered by insurance). The problem was that the crowd of people who were panicking were in the way. It was like an utter sea... but, fortunately, no one seemed to want to pursue them after this point.

Which was a relief - what was extra relieving was the fact that Lihua finally made it to her car. She fished through her purse for her keys, and pressed the button to unlock the doors. She opened the back doors for Charlie, and pointed inside.

"Get in."

She said, as she picked up Lijuan, and placed her in the passenger seat.

Charlie nodded along at everything Ms.Zhao said, and followed along submissivley. After all he did owe his life to her. He took off his robe and laid it onto the back seat and just fell in. He held his wounds, each bruise and bump ached and each cut bled. He made sure to keep pressure on the cuts that could possibly make a mess in her car through the robe. He laid on his back there in focus on the ceiling of the vehicle.

It was finally Lihua's time to get moving, and she hopped into the driver's side of the vehicle, threw the keys in the ignition, and sped off. She took the one route that had the least people... Lihua's first goal was to get this boy to safety.

Then her next goal was to get a raise for her heroism.

Either way, the three were getting far away from the festival as possible.

---

Samantha Cole

---

---

Old Raygate, Prince Ed-Field.

Sam hastily reviewed her mental checklist. Had she done everything properly? Had she masked her trail sufficiently that her would-be client couldn't be linked back to her? Blacking out emergency systems meant blocking the interference of the authorities. The only reason to do that at a public event was a little higher on the list of crimes than Sam wanted to think about.

But it wasn't that innocent lives were in danger. That neuron did not fire, for some reason. Her concern was being connected to what she became increasingly suspicious was some kind of attack on the rally. That was the one and only reason she could think of that would necessitate squelching the cops and EMTs. If you don't want your wrench to fall off the table, you don't put it near the edge. If you don't want to be stopped from killing folks, you don't allow the chance for interference.

"I definitely scrambled the IP," Sam reassured herself. She pulled the battery from her tablet and triggered the quick-release tab she'd installed into the side of its casing, and the back hinged away to reveal its inner-workings. "GPS is still disabled, no power going to the camera..."

She quickly took inventory of her other countermeasures. The battery meter woven into the inside breast of her hoodie still registered a decent charge, so she clicked on the camera baffler in her hood. Digital cameras were the best thing ever to happen to criminals and delinquents; infra-red light showed up as white light on nearly every model, save for those with a purpose-built IR filter, and those systems were useless for night-time recording anyway. The best they'd get was black clothing and a white dot where her face should have been.

Sam avoided the busier streets as she made her way through toward the edge of Old Raygate. It was slow going, and she couldn't help but calculate how much faster it would have been if she could have hitched. But there was no way of knowing whether they were on to her yet, so that option was flatlined before it even presented itself.

"They..." Sam chided herself. "Which 'they'?"

To pass the time, she decided to get acquainted with the man who'd asked her to commit at least three felonies in one afternoon. Unlike the modded tablet, this phone was disposable; meant for emergencies in which prolonged online activity might compromise her security. She logged in to one of the local transmitter towers' computer systems and redirected the signal to a Chinese place over in Courtbridge.

Sam's passive pout transformed into a full-fledged scowl when her investigations turned up a burn phone and a falsified signal trail. If she'd IDed the man right away, maybe there would have been a chance, but now that the trail had gone cold...

"Asshole probably had an IC team..."

The more she poked and prodded, the more she realized she wasn't getting anywhere; and that, in itself, told her plenty. She reached the inarguable conclusion that this man was not working alone, and that he probably answered to forces she had no intention of facing off with. Sam had already resolved to clear out, but now? Now, she was facing the prospect of being declared an enemy of the state, if she couldn't scrub any evidence of that conversation. She secretly hoped that a man smart enough to use a burn phone was also smart enough to employ at least some form of countermeasures against recording devices.

At least she had remembered to engage the camera baffler when he called. Regardless of whether the phone's camera had been working, somebody on the level she was thinking of could have used any surveillance systems in the area to bypass that little trick.

The plan, now, was to lay low and wait to find out what happened at Havenfield.

---

---

Havenfield Market, Roseview

“I’m being quite serious here. You got shit for staff. Absolutely brutal toward paying customers.”

Rhea stood with her arms crossed, cape waving in the breeze. The narrow-framed man behind the glass in the security building scowled, waiting for her stubbornness to wane.

“Miss, we can’t be held responsible for the separate companies catering to the Harvest Festival. If this did indeed take place, which I very much doubt, you must take it up with their manager.” He said.

“I watched a minor get slammed in the face over a small misunderstanding. Had to take him to the First Aid tent. How do you explain that?” Rhea’s chin jutted out defiantly.

He squeezed the bridge of his nose, drawing out a loud sigh. “Evidently, this minor was in a place they were not allowed. So, they had it coming.”

“Excuse… me?” Rhea bared her teeth.

“They, uh.” He coughed. “Miss, you’re holding up the line. If you don’t have a real problem, I’m going to ask you to leave before I call security.”

Rhea threw up her hands in frustration. “You can’t even do your job. Fine. I’m going.” She marched off, muttering to herself. As absent-minded as she was, it was only when some speakers grew in volume that she realised where she wandered to. The DOVE speech was in full swing, their leader at the podium. She snaked her way closer to the stage, a smirk forming on her face. The company of charismatic metahumans tended to put her in better moods.

For the briefest moment, Rhea saw the same group from the nightclub. The three women and beast appeared among the faces, then like a ghost they melted into the crowd. Rhea’s curiosity was quickly replaced with adrenaline when gunshots and red smoke shattered the peace...

---

Rowan Campbell, Nick O'Connor, & Wendy Emily Lucker.

---

Havenfield Market, Roseview.
Written in collaboration with @Mr Allen J and @Zombiedude101

After Wendy had lead Rowan to the stand, she treated the two of them to some delicious funnel cake. After they were prepared, Wendy was sitting down on the chair, with Rowan across from her. She was more fixated on her funnel cake - which was coated with cherries and cherry syrup - until she looked over at Rowan not too far away.

Offering her a thumbs up, he found the funnel cake to be a delicious treat, one he'd never had a chance to know before today. He was grateful towards Wendy for it, to say the least and had made a mental note to figure out how to make it up to her.

Oddly enough, she was starting to put a little bit of credence behind Diana's "couple" claim. They kind of looked like a couple. She took a bite out of her funnel cake with a fork while her eyes drifted over towards him. She didn't have any feelings present for Rowan... he was just a friend of hers. Nothing more, nothing less.

But, she wondered what Rowan thought of her.

Was she pretty enough to pip his interests?

Though, before she could continue her line of thought, bullets sprang out from the enviroment. That made Wendy jump, and she was quick to look around. People were screaming, and running away. It wasn't long before the masked men in armor came running after them.

It wasn't long before the two became targets. The armed men threw canisters of Metahuman-Suppressant gas at them.

"Rowan!" Wendy shouted, as electricity began to arc off herself. She created a magnetic field, and fired a blast of electromagnetic energy in a ring. It shot forward and deflected the gas canisters that were aimed at them, and were fortunate enough to go off away from them. Red gas startred filling up at the area around them.

Wendy covered her mouth as she made a quick note to turn around and tried to haul ass

Sucking in his breath, Rowan chased after her, frantically clambering over and around anything in his path. Eventually he managed to catch and firmly grasped her by the arm, tugging at it in another direction. "This way!"

And like that, they were off - Rowan might've been scrawny, but he could run like hell when push came to shove. As the chaos enveloped everything around them, it became clear he was leading them out towards the fairground rides set up at the corner of the festival, the ferris wheel looming overhead with its flickering lights.

Then it became obvious why he'd took them that way - on the other side was a side exit, for employees. "C'mon, c'mon-"

Rowan stopped abruptly as two gunmen approached them, weapons and canisters at the ready. "On the fucking ground!" One of them barked at the duo.

For a moment, Rowan froze, then clenched his palm and made a frantic sweeping motion, tearing off the upper half of a temporary metal fence and slamming it into the gunmen at full force, dragging them visciously across the ground with the squeal of metal against stone and flesh.

The sight was god awful. Wendy almost wreched in disgust as they were getting torn to bits. Well, this was what was neccessary to stay alive.

It had been the second time Rowan had ever done some harm with his powers, yet this time he froze in place, jaw clenched, palms shaking with a mixture of subconscious rage and fear.

Nick had taken off running just as soon as the shooting started, acting purely on instinct. He had to get home, had to get back to the hive. He had no idea what was going on or who was shooting who, and he couldn't have cared less. He was in danger, and he would be safe in the hive.

Those two kids he'd seen before, the ones who the carnie was furious at - they had the same idea he did, taking off away from the gas and gunfire. Nick followed them from a distance, hoping against hope that maybe the scruffy kid leading them had an idea of where he was going. It looked like he did, but that hardly mattered after they got cornered.

Nick was just about to turn and bolt away when the fence ripped off its hinges and nailed the gunmen - judging by the sweeping motion the kid had made, it didn't seem like an accident. The boy was a Metahuman, then - maybe he'd... maybe he could be trusted. Nick felt a pang of guilt at his earlier intention to abandon the two to whatever fate awaited them; they were just kids. Like he'd been.

Nick approached cautiously, carefully avoiding the horrible mess that was resulting from the two men being scraped along the ground like an ant by a shoe. "I know a safe place," he whispered, then swallowed sharply and repeated himself louder. "I know a safe place. My name is Nick, and I'm like you. I know a place where we can hide, where we'll be safe for as long as it takes for this to blow over, but if we don't go now they're going to hurt us real bad. And kill us, probably. Come with me."

Wendy came to a stop as she looked at the man. He said that he would help them. Honestly - Wendy was turn between trusting this stranger, and taking their chances. He said he's "like them," which means he could be a Metahuman. Everything was going horribly wrong, and Wendy tried to make sense of why. She had no idea of who these men were. But, if she was willing to take a chance, this man could help them. That was what Wendy was really banking on.

The girl hesitantly nodded her head, and said, "Okay, lead the way." She was hoping Rowan would go along with it.

That seemed to snap him out of it, in any case - Rowan quickly followed after Wendy's lead, deciding to trust her call.

Oh, shit, that actually worked. "...Cool, cool," Nick muttered, and immediately walked past them, pushing through the employee exit and breaking into a jog away from the sound of gunfire, trusting that the kids were following.

Fortunately, his taxi was in a parking lot not far away - drivers weren't really supposed to use them for personal commuting, but as long as they paid for gas nobody really gave a shit.

Well, the guy's a taxi cab driver. He's no more dangerous than any other cabbie. Personally, Wendy was never one for public transportation, to begin with, but since she's separated from her precious scooter, she'll have to make do.

"Don't sit in the front," he called out to the kids as he jumped into the driver's seat. "I should probably get this out in the open, we're going to my apartment. I've been getting it ready for something like this for a while. I promise not to murder you, but like, if that's not good enough, feel free to take your chances out here. There's also a bunch of metal around, though, so you'd probably be okay if I tried to kill you. Which, just to be clear, I'm not going to do." Without waiting for a response, Nick started the car and leaned over to the glove compartment, opening it wordlessly.

Okay, he's starting to sound a little bit like a conspiracy theory nut. Wendy was wondering what she got herself into. She peered over towards Rowan, nervously trying to get her unease across to him the best she could. God. This night was going horribly. It started with Wendy arriving with her sisters, and hanging out with Rowan, ending with this awful, awful, disaster. Who are even these guys?

Wendy didn't want to find out... because she was wondering what the hell Nick was pulling out his glove compartment. Was it a gun? She was getting a little on edge here - kind of paranoid. She channeled that electricital ability of hers in order to control the metal as Nick said....

The large soldier insect inside spilled out, chattering wildly and glancing around frantically, eyeing the newcomers warily. "It's okay, they're alright. I think." Nick reassured the insect, before looking back to gauge the kids' reactions. "Don't... freak out."

... But what Wendy wasn't expecting was a god damn giant insect popping out of the glove compartment. Her eyes shot wide as she wondered what the hell is that thing. One of the Arachnids from Starship Troopers?

"Uhhhhh...." Was all that escaped Wendy's lips.

It took Rowan a moment to process the situation. This stranger was talking to an ant. An ant.

Even Rowan was confused as she was. "What is that...?" Wendy trailed off, before realizing it wasn't important. "Um. Nevermind. Just get a move on!" She said.

All things considered, mild terror and temporary shock was about as good as Nick could've hoped for. Without any further hesitation he slammed on the gas, pealing out of the parking lot and blasting down the street at speeds anyone else would probably have considered somewhat unsafe.

"I'm a metahuman. Like you guys," he offered in explanation to the kids without taking his eyes off the road. "I make the bugs - the eggs grow in my skin, and when they hatch, they do what I tell them. They won't hurt you, but they'll keep us safe until this blows over and you guys can get back to... wherever you're from. " He cleared his throat as the cab made a particularly sharp turn. "There's, uh, gonna be a whole lot more of them where we're going."

What an odd ass power. Part of Wendy wanted to just roll out the car, but she had no idea of what happened back at the festival - or if it was going to spread. So maybe... maybe hanging with the creepy taxi-cab driver won't be so bad?

But, she was worried about Diana and her friends. She hoped that they got out safe.

She wanted to at least text her... So, before she responded to Nick, she pulled her phone out of her pocket, and hammered away at it. Typing up the best message she could.

Diana, please tell me that you're okay.

She hit send, before Wendy looked up at Nick.

"... I'm a Metahuman, too." Wendy was quick to add... she was unsure of what she should tell him. She didn't want to announce that she was a Power Replicator to the world, but she can tell him a half-truth. "I can... I can shoot electricity, and control magnetism like he can."

"Huh, small world. Guess you guys probably have a lot to talk about," Nick joked awkwardly at her response. He'd often wondered what it would be like to be one of the 'normal' metas - someone with actual powers rather than the clusterfuck of misery that was his life. No point in thinking about it, though - it was like wondering what it'd have been like to be human.

The rest of the short drive was spent in silence, which suited Nick just fine.

---

Reed & Quentin Taylor.

---

"Losing track of time, c'mon man..."

Reed had been running late tonight. Working a case well into the early hours of the evening had left him with scarce time to get back home, get changed and then head over to the festival, and he cursed at himself for it. After all, he'd made a promise to show up and, no doubt, Cindy and the others were probably expecting him in the DOVE showcase.

For the occasion, he'd thrown on a smarter jacket and pants, with a new pair of shoes he'd bought about a week before the occasion. it wasn't anything fancy, but it looked a little more appropriate for a public event where he'd be one of the many faces of DOVE.

He'd learned from Quent and the briefings that both RAVEN and the BPD would be keeping a heavy presence, as usual, so he'd taken some comfort in that. Besides, he always kept his sidearm on hand these days, if only because he'd learned from the past.

Rounding the corner, Reed could make out the entrance to the festival and saw both BPD and RAVENs posted st the gates. It was good to see cops working alongside metahuman agencies, especially after all the old animosities and rivalries of the past. Cass would've smiled to see it and so did he.

Apprpaching, it was only as he drew closer that a series of distant cracks became audible.



The sounds made the hairs along the back of his neck bristle. Gunshots.

---

Quentin had been enjoying a burger from one of the BBQ stands when he too heard the shots, coming from the DOVE exhibit of all places. On reflex, he quickly dropped his food and reached for his sidearm, weaving his way in and out of the panicked crowds, making a beeline for the source of the commotion.

From the distance he was, he couldn't exactly tell, but it looked like the Black Hound was responsible, if the black-clad bastard in armour engaging the others was anything to go by.

Before Quentin could get in a shot, however, more gunshots rang out from either side. In mere seconds, more masked figures had appeared, all well-armed and well equipped. With paramilitary types as these on the loose, he quickly realised that it must've been the Founding Family's work.

"God-dammit-" He growled, only to be forced behind a nearby stall for cover as one of the gunmen caught sight of him and took aim.

A firefight broke out between the two, with Quentin constantly peeking out from behind cover to return fire as rounds crackled and smashed into the scenery around him, the gunman growing ever closer.

Quentin recognised the stalemate and knew that he had to act fast, especially with someone as dangerous as the Black Hound loose. With no alternative, rather than try to flank the bastard around the corner, Quentin decided to try something else: Smashing his way through the stall.

Surprised by the veteran RAVEN's tactic, the gunman was caught off guard as Quentin slammed an elbow into his masked face, then wrenched his own rifle from his grasp and drove the butt of it into his face, knocking him out cold.

Taking what magazines he could find and pocketing them, Quentin hung onto the rifle and set off in pursuit of the Black Hound. Hopefully there was still time to stop the bastard.

---

By the time that Reed had hit the festival, things had already descended into chaos. In mere moments, dozens of masked gunman had appeared out of nowhere and were tearing things apart, locked in a firefight with the others.

Having withdrawn his sidearm from beneath his jacket, Reed had moved in pursuit of a group of gunmen trashing some stalls, brutalising people who'd been caught up in the chaos, whilst ohers in the distance were engaging his colleagues. He was outnumbered by at least three-to-one and would have been headed up against better equipment, but he had a few things on his side.

The element of surprise was one of them. Reed had ducked down out of sight and moved into a favourable position, where he had a better chance at giving the civvies a chance to get out of the crossfire.

He paused, just for a moment, before leaning out, quickly sighting a target and squeezing back on the trigger.

As soon as the gunshot tang out, Reed yelled at the civvies. "Get outta here, move!"

One of the gunmen took a round through the side of the neck, causing him to stagger and hit the dirt. It wasn't immediately fatal, but he'd taken one of them out of action. Of course, the other two soon turned their attentions from the poor bastards they were beating on and towards his direction, weapons at the ready.

Reed exchanged gunfire with them, but time after time kept having to duck back down and manoeuvre his way around cover to avoid their shots. One of his shots managed to nail one in the side, but his pistol didn't pack the kind of caliber that could penetrate their body armour so easily.

Then came more cracks. It was different this time; Reed felt as though he'd been punched through the gut, something sharp bit into it and left a painful bite in his side. Reed stumbled and hit the ground, crimson staining his fingers as he felt for the exit wounds. He squirmed for a moment, fingers plugging the holes in his jacket, when he felt a dull numbness at the pit of his mind.

Focus.

The pain was sharp, but the adrenaline had started kicking in already. Without even consciously thinking it, Reed's wounds began to clot of their own accord, stemming the flow of blood.

A masked figure came into view and jabbed a finger in his direction. Reed clamoured for his weapon again and took aim.

"Finish that one-"

The gunman's voice quickly became a gurgle as Reed's bullet tore straight through his throat.

Alerted, another one of the other gunmen shifted back towards Reed's direction and opened fire, forcing him to take cover yet again as rounds crackled overhead.

"Throw in one of the canisters!" Someone else shouted, hoarsely. More gunshots forced Reed to keep his head down, before he could actually see anything. The gunmen had backup, he had none. "Circle round, fucker's a regen!" That same voice came again, gunfire still raining down on his position. The familiar hiss of those same canisters could be heard nearby.

All looked set to go to shit.

Yet..

More voices could be heard, then more gunfire. The familiar boom of a shotgun, over and over. Reed leaned out from cover again, the gunfire on his position abated, now able to return fire. One of the gunmen quickly went down whilst another was practically knocked off his feet by another armed figure, still concealed by the thick red smoke.

They kicked the canister aside and emerged. A BPD officer in body armour, armed with a Remington 870, turned out to be Reed's savior. "Are you okay? You need to get to safety, it's-" He got cut off by the DOVE, who hadn't been immediately recognised due to his choice of clothing.

"I'm Agent Taylor, with DOVE. Thanks for the backup, though."

The officer eyed him for a moment, before it became evident he'd come to the conclusion that there was no time to waste questioning the armed stranger who'd been crazy enough to take on as many gunmen at once. "Alright, Agent Taylor. I've got to get back to my colleagues, these bastards are tearing up the market and we've got people to clear out."

The cop's gaze shifted to the holes in Reed's jacket, along with the crimson stains around them. "Are you sure you're gonna be alright?"

He looked down and shook his head, almost embarrassed. "I'll be fine. Sounds like you need all the help, anyway."

And with that, he headed off with the officer, both in the direction of the DOVE exhibit.

---

Asuma Obokata.

---

Havenfield Market, Roseview.

Asuma heard the violence before he saw or felt it. It began with a serious of loud sharp bangs, and was quickly followed by the sounds of screaming. Asuma and the others were just outside the DOVE exhibit when the shit hit the fan. Before he knew what was happening hordes of people began rushing out of the very entrances that he was trying to enter. Fear and adrenaline pushed the people forward in a desperate rush for survival, and the human stampede rolled over and crushed anyone that stood in its way.

“Shit! Run!” yelled Asuma, violently tugging at Rexx and one of the others, both of which had briefly been stunned by shock. As the two seemed to snap back into reality, the entire group began running away just as everyone else seemed to be. Quickly Asuma pulled off his stupid pumpkin hat and violently threw it aside so that he could actually have a good view of his surroundings and the chaos that was unfolding. They were running over the little open expanse on the north side of the exhibit, and dashed towards the rows of market stools ahead. The large crowds that were fleeing quickly dissipated from the area as they all ran off in various directions. Asuma had just about reached the false safety of the stalls when out of nowhere…

BOOOOOOM!

---

Niklas Amundsson.

---

Flight R-452

Large reclinable leather cream chair by a window, a little personal table covered in complementary snacks and drinks, a little TV screen, and no irritating little children – It was safe to say that Inspector Niklas was content with the first class seating on the flight from Washington DC to Baybridge. TIMRA covered the flight expense up to business class, but Niklas was happy to fork over the little extra himself for the upgrade. Given the amount of flying and travelling he did, he needed luxury seating.

“Hello Sir, is there anything I can get for you? More drinks? Another pillow?” Niklas turned his head and looked up at the source of the soft alluring voice – an attractive young flight attendant, with golden blond hair and a tight red uniform skirt. She flashed him a modest little smile, her teeth of perfectly formed and pearly white. She truly matched the image of a hot-flight attendant that the air-companies and movies liked to impose on the public, and Niklas wasn’t complaining.

“No thank you miss. I have everything I need.” He replied with a little smile as he patted his little desk in indication.

“Well if you need anything at all, don’t hesitate to ask. Our first priority is you.” As the attendant walked off towards another customer, Niklas couldn’t help but admire her tight peach derrière as it swayed with her every movement. His eyes only eventually trailed off her when his peripheral vision saw flashes of light emanating from his personal TV.

”Attack in Baybridge – Causalities not confirmed – Harvest Festival Targeted”

The scrolling headline on the news channel, along with the accompanying live helicopter stream, was more than enough to grab his attention. Understandably concerned for a number of reasons (including the fact that his plane was heading there), Niklas quickly scrambled for his headphones and plugged them in.

“Whilst we still do not know exactly what is going on down there, it is clear that there are a number of small scale battles going on and it’s safe to assume that there’s been a number of causalities. According to eye-witness reports coming through, individuals claim that the attackers bare resemblance to the attackers that were filmed attacking London recently.”

“Holy shit.” Niklas whispered before letting out a deep breath and letting his head sink back into the chair.

---

Asuma Obokata.

---

Havenfield Market, Roseview.

“What… the…” Asuma couldn’t tell whether or not he said those words out-loud, not that it really mattered. As his eyes slowly opened and adjusted to the scene around him, he could tell some sort of blast had gone off. There was some light burning on his left side, leaving him feeling raw, and he could tell that he had broken one or two of his ribs. He must have been thrown by whatever the hell exploded.

“Hey, that one’s still alive!” came a strange muffled voice nearby, followed by a little menacing chuckle. Not that Asuma heard this – all he could hear was a painful ringing from the blast. “I’ll take care of him.”

Asuma tried to get to his feet, but could only get as far as going on all fours due to a loss of balance. It was whilst in this kneeled position with his head down that one of the Hound’s troopers gave Asuma a large kick to the side, sending him rolling onto his back. It caught the victim completely off guard and made it easier for the masked trooper to pin him down. One knee on Asuma’s right arm, one hand on Asuma’s left, and one hand wrapped tightly around his throat.

“I fucking love watching the light fade from their eyes.” The large man chuckled sadistically as he clenched his hand even tighter around Asuma’s throat.

It was a poor choice of words though.

Without warning, Asuma quickly focussed as much energy as he could into his eyes, sending out an intense beam of light and blinding his attacker. The attacker lost enough balance and grip for Asuma to turn the tables and roll him off before switching places. Now on-top, Asuma placed his hand over the man’s mask rather than his throat, and began scorching the man’s head with intense infra-red radiation. As the mask began to melt onto the man’s skin, he began letting out an inhuman wail of agony and began writhing around frantically.

“Son-of-a!” roared a voice from behind. Asuma’s hearing had returned just enough to catch the remark, and he managed to turn around just in time to blind the opponent with a blast of light from his hand before he took a bullet to the back. Instead the other masked figure’s shots blew up a cone of dirt to Asuma’s flank. Not willing to let the shooter get in another shot, Asuma let off another brighter flash before desperately darting off further into the little maze of market stools.

---

April Cooper, Rhea Harlow

_{(Written in collaboration with @Estylwen)}

---

---

Havenfield Market, Roseview.

"... Everyone get down!"

Gunfire and smoke charged the air as panic tore through the night. The DOVE stage was abandoned, civilians ran for their lives, and the Black Hound continued its death march. Rhea watched, half-crouched behind a bench. Her teeth gritted as bullets shredded the tent beside her.

One of the masked henchmen hovered over two children, one crying, the other defiantly holding a fireball in her hand. The man swiftly pistol-whipped the kid, the sound twisting Rhea's gut.

"Stop!" She yelled, tackling the man and knocking them both to the ground. She lacked a weapon and had zero batteries. But by God, she'd slap him senseless if she had to.

The second bullets started flying, April was running. The entire fair was compromised - there were bad guys all over the place and even the Black goddamn Hound had shown up, so it was fair to say that shit was officially 'tits-up'.

She skidded into cover behind some carnival stand or another - this 'cowgirl' getup was causing way too much drag to use her powers properly - and attempted to survey the situation before some random civilian a few feet away tackled one of the death-squad looking goons. Great.

April sprinted out and kicked the man in the head as the two grappled with each other, crouching down to beat him with the butt of her gun a few times until he was still. She roughly pulled the civilian to her feet and slapped her on the back, still crouching to avoid gunfire. "You got some balls on you," she chuckled in spite of the situation, before lifting the goon's pistol off the ground and passing it to her. "You know how to shoot one of these things?"

Rhea received a punch to the mouth before a dressed up cowgirl expertly knocked the man unconscious. The pain felt like a hot fire-poker; she was only vaguley aware of being brought up to a crouch and back-slapped. Scrunching her brows, she touched her lips as white bolts fed the area to numb it. She wiped away a small amount of blood, taking the pistol and noting the security items on the cowgirl.

"Ah, I'm in good hands. Thank you." She said.

One of the henchmen noticed his mate go down and leveled a gun at them. Rhea snapped her pistol at the goon, elbows locked, and shot him in the leg. The man fell over, cursing.

"Yeah, I can shoot." A smile flashed across her face. "I'm Rhea, by the way."

Both of the kids were crying their eyes out, the fire-wielder cradling her head. Rhea gently pried the girl's hands loose to examine the gash. Sparks flew from her fingers. "Sweetheart, this will help with the pain. But I'm gonna need you two to run as fast as you can. Okay?"

They both mumbled incoherently, voices quivering.

"I think they're in minor shock. What should we do?" Rhea said.

April scratched her jaw, regarding the mewling children coolly. "Now that ain't an easy question to answer," she muttered. "I reckon more RAVEN forces'll be showing up in a few minutes. The thing to do is-"

Her sentence was cut off by a burst of gunfire, a reminder of the futility of having a conversation in an active shooting zone. A third henchman, armed with an assault rifle, apparently took issue with the girls' incapacitating his comrades and was charging them, spraying wildly. April threw her arms around the other girl and the kids and yanked them back behind the stand she'd been hiding behind a moment ago. "Hold onto these," she muttered, ripping her blouse off to reveal the blue tanktop underneath and shoving it, as well as her hat, roughly into the hands of the other girl before diving out from cover.

April immediately dropped onto her back, activating her powers so as to go sliding towards the gunman while presenting as small a target as possible. She fired three times - the first going wild, the second taking the man in the arm, and the third in the neck, sending him spilling to the ground. April continued to slide forward before she kicked out and pushed against the man's body, reversing her momentum and sending her sliding back to the others.

"Alright," she panted, "I forget what my plan was."

Hidden behind the stand, Rhea watched the security lady dive back into the fray to kick ass. She dropped the pistol and costume pieces on the grass, undoing the butterfly cape around her neck. She tore a strip off the wing, using it like gauze to tie around the girl's head wound.

"Take this," She gave her phone to the other kid. "When you've run far enough, call 9-1-1. Tell them you need a doctor."

Their faces had a pale, sweaty sheen. Shallow breathing, dull eyes. Rhea sighed, pressing her face in her hands. As she pulled them away, a water-like, transparent energy hovered in the space. It shimmered as it half-clung to her fingers, and she breathed it onto the kids. It penetrated the skin, and disappeared.

Colour returned to their faces, and focus to their eyes. They both smiled, nodded and ran, weaving among the tents. The security lady returned in time to see them leave.

"At least you had a plan. Nice moves, by the way." Rhea said, a tone of fatigue in her voice. She picked up her gun. "I'm still hearing gunshots. Let's make sure everyone still alive got out."

"Sounds good to me." By now, the fair had devolved into pure chaos - the likely outcome, really, when one stages a public attack in a city of metahumans. Clouds of meta-suppressant were filling the area, fire and ice and bolts of energy were flying as liberally as bullets, and that wasn't even getting into the storm cloud that was flying through the air. Some corner of her mind that wasn't preoccupied with the crisis took a moment to be jealous that everyone else had gotten the cool powers.

"Alright, let's get moving. Stay close behind me and we'll go look for survivors who ain't trying to kill us." April broke into a run, weaving through the disaster area and keeping her head under the path of any stray bullets. "This is Agent April Cooper, anyone still alive out there?" she asked, pressing the 'talk' button on her earpiece.

No response. Yikes. Hopefully something had just happened to the line. She wasn't the only one who'd had the idea to try and ask their higher-ups what the hell was going on, though - just across the way were four more of the goons with their backs to her and Rhea, all hunched over some radio-looking contraption. They turned as April approached.

"Take the two on the right!" April shouted as she dropped into a dead run and activating her powers, sliding wildly through and under a small hail of bullets. One shot took her in the side and she grunted in the pain - it wasn't deep, but it smarted. Her answering fire managed to hit one guy center mass a few times, knocking him to the ground, and April shoulder charged into the other she'd designated for herself and set about the process of brawling with him.

Huh, her name's April, and she's not just security staff... Rhea tilted her head as April spoke into her comms.

Four henchmen stood between them and a possible eavedrop on enemy communications. "Take the two on the right!" Said April as she attemtped neutralizing the other masked men.

An upturned bench provided some amount of cover, which Rhea crouched behind. Pistol in hand, she aimed a limb shot at the goon nearest her. He fell over, and she switched targets. This man, however, saw her aiming, and dove to the ground as she fired. A clear miss.

Empty clicks came from the pistol. "Shit." She said, watching the goon laugh and stomp toward her. Little to his knowledge she had one more ace up her sleeve, and as he closed the distance, a multitude of brilliant sparks raced across her body. With the barrel of the pistol in her grasp, she threw it unnaturally quick. The man's chestpiece fractured as the pistol appeared half-embedded in the armour, and he staggered back.

In his confustion he didn't see Rhea leap over the bench to knifehand his neck. Like a deflated balloon, the man collapsed. Rhea snatched up his slightly larger gun and, scoping out the goon punching April in the face, fired off a shot.