The soft mid morning sunlight sparkled against Lisa's hair-Or it would have, but it was raining quite heavily at the moment, which made her choice of attire all the more odd. Lisa was wearing a beautiful black dress, with a red bow wrapped around it, resting just above her waist. Her hair had recently been redyed, and the startling blue was absolutely breathtaking. Unfortunately it had been quite expensive, as her hair reached down to her knees when not tied up. Right now she was taking advantage of that length to hide metal wire against her back.

As she walked purposefully down the street, metal wire unfurled behind her back, sliding up near her collar to cover her face in a slow process. No one else was on this street at the moment, which wasn't too surprising considering the neighborhood she was in. Right as she passed under a streetlight, and turned to head towards the gas station Lisa's mask finished obscuring her face. Only her eyes were visible, even her lips hidden beneath the thin wire. As she moved towards the door, a man begging for change noticed her, and moved quickly to escape into the nearest alley. Lisa ignored him, entering the gas station as the bell connected to the door dinged.

The man behind the counter didn't notice her for a second or two, but his eyes didn't leave her once he did. The bulky TV above the shop shelves gave out the scores of Sunday night football with an incessant hiss in the background. Spindle surveyed slowly, wire stealthily snaking down the back of her leg, and heading under the counter. It quickly wrapped around the man's arms, and legs before he could press the silent alarm. The wire detached from the rest as the man gasped in surprise, but he didn't make another noise, probably because the wire was, almost gently, caressing his neck.

Soft footfalls sounded as Spindle headed further into the store, looking from side to side with a confident gaze. To her surprise there were no others in the store, and she moved back to the counter, glancing at the door. More wire uncoiled from behind her, less stealthily this time, and wrapped around the door handle to prevent it from opening. Spindle scanned the self-serve gas area, before looking back up at the man at the register.

”Hand over all of the money in the register.”

Her voice was steady, not panicked, and definitely not hurried. She had practiced that in the mirror all morning, and it had come out much better than she had expected. The man nodded, flinching intermittently at the feeling of the cool wire against his throat. Spindle loosened the wire's grip on his hands, and the man let out a small breath, moving his hands in front of him. He pressed two buttons on the register in succession, and a small ding played as the cash drawer ejected from the machine. Before the man could reach into the drawer, Spindle's eyes snapped to the door. A young mother, and her small child were standing outside, the mother was holding the keys to the restroom. Fear was clear in the mother's eyes, while the child, who seemed to be more than a year old, only showed vague interest. Spindle sighed, and turned back to the cashier.

A loud click sounded as the man pumped a shotgun, quickly bringing it level with Spindle's head. She reacted without thinking, stumbling backwards as wire suddenly wrapped around the man's arms. His aim was quickly displaced, his arms being pulled violently upwards. Panicked, he pulled the trigger, shooting into the ceiling above Spindle, and showering her with drywall. Wire wrapped around the shotgun quickly, wrenching it out of his hands, as more came out from behind Spindle to restrain him further. Within seconds the man had both his arms and legs restrained again, with wire pulled taut around his throat.

Tears welled in Spindle's eyes as she took ragged breaths, trying her best to calm herself. She stood shakily and quickly moved forward. The cashier was curled up behind the counter, the wire stopping him from fixing that. Spindle pulled herself up onto the counter, making sure to stay decent. She picked up a plastic bag, and moved the money inside of the cash register quickly into it. She finished after about thirty seconds had passed, and hopped down off the counter. Her wire untangled itself from around the door handle, before pulling it open for her. Spindle moved outside, noticing the young mother and child gone from view. She shrugged, before moving towards the closest alley. Once in the safety of the dark alley, her mask slid away layer by layer, tears mixing with rain as they slid down her cheek.

"Hey... Where ya goin'?" The weary male voice called after her as she pulled free from the bed, a sheet wrapped around her naked body. At the sound, her head turned slightly, allowing her to look at the individual sprawled out in the center of the bed from the corner of one blue eye.

"I have an appointment that I've gotta keep." She responded with a coy smile, letting the sheet slip from her grasp slightly before walking over to the corner of the room where she managed to get all of her clothes to land the previous night.

"Aww... can't you just... be late?" The male who still laid prone on the bed whined after her while she gathered her clothes together. Despite herself, she found that she couldn't help but laugh a little at his desperate attempts to get her to stay in his bed. Last night hadn't even been that great, at least, not for her anyway.

So, rather than responding to him, she took her bundle of clothes and the sheet that wrapped around her body, and made her way to the bathroom. Once the door closed behind her, Fae began to slip into the previous night's clothes. A pair of dark navy jeans that hugged tightly to her hips and a short sleeve black t-shirt with a graphic of a skull on the front that fit loosely around her torso.

Once she'd donned her clothes she began to work her absurdly long brown hair into a loose and messy ponytail which she tied with an elastic that she found in the back pocket of her jeans and made her way out of the bathroom to grab the rest of her belongings.

The man who she'd spent the night with--she vaguely recalled that he'd said his name was Spencer through slurred and intoned drunken verbiage--was now sitting up in the bed, his body in full view. It seemed he lacked a little more dignity than she'd thought. She could feel his eyes following her as she made her way across the room to the chair she'd left the remainder of her things on in the heat of the moment.

"Thanks for last night." Her voice was soft, gentle, even as she lied through the fake smile on her lips.

Her words seemed to perk the man up, however before he could say anything in response, Fae was already making her way out of his apartment and into the rain. She had things to do today, and couldn't be bothered to deal with the complications that people who didn't understand what a one-night stand was brought with them. So, she chose to ignore them.

In the rain, without an umbrella, she could feel her hair and clothes as they began to stick to her skin while she walked with purpose toward the less... "polite" side of the city: The Warehouse district.

After all, Nightfall didn't like to be kept waiting.

---

She'd woken up early that morning, looked outside to see the rain, and a smile had played across her face. She had gotten out of bed, brushed her teeth, splashed water on her face to rouse herself just that extra bit. She'd showered, even knowing that she'd have to deal with the rain, and then she'd donned her costume, slipping into the red dress, placing the mask on her face, making sure her hair was in order, her dress without splits, tears, or discolorations. Then, she had sat down on her bed, crossed her legs, and waited.

Thinking back to it was a fun thought. Just knowing that she could make things play out just so by sitting down, closing her eyes, and thinking it brought that same smile she'd had when she woke up to her lips. She ran the idea through her head again, the causal relationship between actions and results. How things rippled out, causing larger and larger changes as time went on and the dominoes fell. It was beautiful imagery, and it was all real, and it was all there in her mind, at her fingertips...so she'd used it.

She'd pulled the strings, adjusting the covers of her bed just so, deciding to water only two of the nineteen plants in her spacious apartment, throwing a rock out the window towards a specific spot on the street. Knocking on each wall of her rooms with juuust the right patterns and then finally...she'd walked up to her door, knocked twice, waited for four long minutes, and walked out. Even her footsteps were measured, exact, the sound of her feet against the floor sometimes louder, sometimes quieter, sometimes sharper or more muffled and dull. It all had to be exact and when it was--which was when she chose to make it so--the result was harmony or discord all dependent on which she decided to sow. In the moment all she wanted to do was keep the flow of the early morning, keep her neighbor Jane Kailey from leaving two minutes early for work, or the man who lived two floors down from leaving when she entered the hall. It was all orchestrated just so she could walk from her apartment room, down several flights of stairs, and out the building, without a single person, or a single camera really seeing her for who she was.

The kicker? The scary reality? It worked, but it didn't end there.

She stepped out into the rain, just on time, her gait elegant and measured all at once, a strange grace to her movements. Her fingers twitched and flowed, as if plucking the strings of an invisible instrument only she was aware of. The tips of two fingers touching a light post, while the pinky of her left hand grazed a specific set of raindrops. Street cameras blinked, lightning flashed, thunder boomed, drawing people's attention, causing lights to flicker and feeds to show static for just several seconds...and she was gone.

Three blocks away and no one had seen her leave the building or walk from point A to point B. The smile graced her lips again, a feeling of joy, of power, filling her chest and spreading outwards into her limbs, touching her fingertips...which were warm despite the rain. In fact, the rain almost seemed not to really touch her. She was wet, but not cold, her hair looked sleek and it shone when light struck it, but it never acted as if it were truly soaked like it should of been. The effect wasn't that limited however, it applied to her clothes too, which didn't droop under the weight of soaked in fluid, but instead was tight and flowed as if not a drop of water had really touched it.

It made her look almost ethereal like she didn't belong in this world, like she wasn't really there even though it would be easy to find out otherwise. All it would take was one touch and you'd know she was just as physical, just as present, as anyone else...but then she'd withdraw and the brief reality would fade away as if it had never been and the ethereal woman would be there again, instead of the human being. It must have been eerie, she thought, to watch her and not really know what was going on like she did.

Not that it mattered. Not that knowing would do them any good. It was unlikely they could really use that knowledge against her, after all, they hadn't had any luck yet...had they? She laughed lightly, a chuckle, the sound carrying despite the pouring rain, as if it was bouncing off the water and spreading, instead of being drowned in the sound of pattering rain.

She shifted her focus, her attention to other things, slipping out of the reverie of her power and the thoughts using it brought, and directed the ability elsewhere. She wanted to be somewhere specific, somewhere interesting, a place that something new was happening. She closed her eyes, shifting her head lightly to the side every few seconds, the movement slow, her fingers dancing as she almost rolled her neck to move her head, as if listening to a tune only she could hear. Then she stopped and smiled again as just the right notes cascaded through her thoughts. She hit the notes again, her fingers plucking invisible threads, and then she turned and walked across the street with her eyes closed.

No cars struck her, no one called out to the mysterious red lady J-walking, and all was well, all was just so as it should be, as she wanted it to be...to a degree. As her foot touched the sidewalk, she opened her eyes and turned again, the action sudden, drumming her fingers against the wall in a steady rhythm, before lightly gliding them over, then dragging two fingers, then one, then all five, before she moved them off the building, turned the corner and let the heel of her foot tap that same corner lightly.

She continued on, crossing the city and not seeming to tire in the least. It was almost as if the world was working in her favor so she didn't tire, didn't miss a single step, or trip, or be seen by just the wrong people, or be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Working towards a single goal, the world pushed her on, or maybe she pushed the world around her to do as she bid it? It was hard to say, even for her. Her smiled widened again and she glanced at a store briefly, her eyes lighting up with recognition before she quietly walked past, tapping one edge of the glass before ceasing most of her actions--her fingers going still, her footsteps ceasing their unsteady rhythm and evening out.

To everyone else the shift would be practically imperceptible. The rhythm of the falling rain shifting just a pitch or two in several places, the sound of traffic becoming just the slightest bit more pronounced, the position of a parked car shifting .0001 millimeter to the right, but to her...all the tiniest details were crystal clear. It was as if someone was pointing every single one of them out, and then telling her, clearly, concisely, and with all the detail she desired, how to shift those little variables just a little bit to cause a cascade of events that would not have occurred otherwise. Of course, that was just one side of the spectrum: harmony the other side was...less pleasant, at least for everyone else that was. She laughed quietly to herself at the thought as she settled her back against the wet wall of an alley near the store. She was obscured by the tall dumpster to her left, making her impossible to see from any angle except one from above if you entered from the store.

Her power gave her a sense of completion, so she folded her arms under her chest, closed her eyes, and leaned her head back against the wall. She let water run over her face and through her hair and into her clothes, though not all the way through, just the surface. She needed to look natural, that much she knew. She would wait for only five minutes, minutes that she let herself almost get lost in the sensation of the rain on her skin, the sound of it hitting the ground and the dumpster, resounding somewhat in a constant staccato of sound, as if nature was pounding against the man-made construct of civilization. She enjoyed every minute of it, but the time didn't fly, nor did it drag on for her--it simply was. Then she heard it, she felt it, movement, activity. She opened her eyes and glanced to the street to see a mother pulling her young daughter along as if to escape something, but not in too much of a hurry...as if not to draw too much attention to themselves.

Her fingers began to move, the rain, over the next few minutes, slowed ever so slightly, but only just. She leaned back into her former position, eyes closed, smiling, but now she tilted her chin down, letting the hood shadow her face, the fabric hanging lower from the weight of the rain's constant beating. Those minutes passed and the footsteps came, a feeling of glee almost causing her to laugh as it shot through her, endorphins almost egging her on to do something...anything! She didn't, she waited, the time wasn't right, her power...her passenger wanted her to tap into its other side, but she knew it wasn't time yet. It had to be just right.

Her gaze shifted as the girl stopped in the alley, still not having noticed that she wasn't alone, that someone was watching...that Adumbrate was there. She saw the tears, the fear, she could read it in the girl's posture, her expression, her body language. She could infer it from the loud shots she'd heard...and it finally allowed her the opening, the chance to act.

She stepped out, the movement slow, almost gentle somehow. She didn't move her fingers, instead she twitched her toes and let subtle movements of her body do the work. She flexed her power, letting it radiate outwards, spreading almost like a virus. She didn't close the distance between them, though it was only 2 meters that separated them.

She let the girl's awareness of her sink in, making no move to attack, her posture, her demeanor, all of the little things, telling the girl she meant no harm. She had even averted her eyes from the girl's face, looking instead at the sky, her view of the new cape only peripheral. "It's okay to be afraid you know," she said gently, her voice soft, though it struck through the rain as if unimpeded by the drumming sound. "This life is hard, but it can be rewarding. It can be an escape, and it can be fun, but you've gotta be a little...different to appreciate it," she glanced down at the girl, knowing her mask would once again be donned, and smiled. There was a certain reassurance in her gaze. Provided the girl appeared more secure in the moment, she would extend her hand as an offering of friendship, if brief before she spoke again. "Don't worry though, I can get us out of it. After all, I'm Adumbrate. They haven't caught me yet, so they won't catch either of us today."

With that she would turn, and her fingers would dance, subtly as she walked, not ran, through the alley, hopefully with the girl in tow, heading away from the scene of the crime, the crime of a girl she hoped would become an ally, if not a friend. She had every intention to make it both...and her intentions tended to go through.

---

---

The rain drummed against the roof of the warehouse, his men, goons, some thralls, some hired, paced or played cards, but left him alone. The gears of his mind turned, and his pen tapped in time with the rain against the paper of one of his many notebooks. His expression was blank, his costume on, though his hood was back. If he willed it, none of his men would remember his face...no matter how hard they tried, no matter what thinker or master pried into their minds. They had all been his thralls once. Their minds made pliable by his intrusion. It had all taken time, but it had been important, another necessary step in the plan, the grand scheme, the great dance.

He almost smiled, but instead the corner of his mouth merely twitched. A thought came to mind, the hivemind dancing circles before each fragment of a person-made-whole moved into lines and boarded their subsequent trains of thought. His pen twirled between fingers as the trains moved smoothly along their tracks, sometimes altering course as their tracks were shifted.

What came next? Who needed to be leveraged? What players were important now and how could he leverage others later? When would the PRT or the Family notice?

He actually smiled at that last thought, the train speeding up, fueled by the hunger of his ambition.

The pen stopped twirling, his eyelids twitched, and its tip touched paper, he began writing. To everyone else it might look measured, to him it was calculated, halting, methodical. His body was a shell, a machine, a vehicle that his mind operated. It was a tool, but it was his most indispensable tool. If its systems stopped function, so too would his mind, though he hated to admit that. It was the truth, and he valued that, even if the truth could be harsh, brutal, and unpleasant. He was used to those things. They were almost...comfortable to him now.

He glanced down, the page was filled, and the two after it as well, both sides on all of them. He looked it over briefly, then closed the notebook, pushed it into its rightful place, tapped a series of levers and buttons disguised as flaws or normal aspects of his desk, and all of them folded in, hinged on a mechanism. In moments the desk was flat and bare of all except a laptop and a pen. He stood, turning naturally and pushing the chair in as he left it. His hands slipped behind him, the back of one resting against the small of his lower back, before his other hand laid on top of it, grasped loosely by its twin.

His expression blank, he walked out of his personal quarters, turning some attention to the rest of his power, pushing his influence outwards, flexing and shifting the intricate web of his influence as someone else might limber up their muscles before a run. A small smirk slipped onto his lips, before quickly fading as he used one of his minions to check the time, noting that it appeared Fae would be just slightly late. Good enough, he thought as he approached the one of several doors that led into or out of the warehouse.

He moved his arms, raising on horizontally before him, checking his wrist watch, and the moment he knew the time, the knock came. He smiled, a full smile, but on his face it only looked devious, if somewhat charming in its way. Chuckling and shaking his head, before letting the emotions slip slowly away, he stepped forwards, knocked back, and then opened the door.

"Hello, Fae. You're one minute and twenty five seconds late, but that's alright. It will have to do." Those words said he turned, knowing she'd follow, perhaps even hanging off of him as she liked to do...some attempt to bother him, he had figured, and headed in the direction of his quarters. With barely a conscious thought one of his thralls moved to close the door behind her. It really only served to make the warehouse less suspicious...and to keep the sound, and the wetness of the rain where it belonged: outside. Nonetheless, he had better things to do, or well, they had better things to do, he supposed. After all, while he couldn't maneuver her like he did many others, she was still a piece on his board. She was someone he could use, if not as a chess piece in quite the same sense.

She was an asset, he had to admit, in more ways than one. He would have smiled, but that would have been telling, wouldn't it.

Lightning lit up the alley, and Lisa scanned it quickly before glancing down at the money in the plastic bag. Thunder followed the lightning as wire came out from behind her. The thin material quickly organized itself into a shape reminiscent of a comb. It floated up to her head, and began smoothing her hair, a task which did not consume Lisa’s attention. Her hair quickly became devoid of drywall, and it was again its smooth self. Unfortunately if it got much more moisture it would probably get frizzy, and that would be quite the sight.

Four hundred dollars, give or take, was the final amount Lisa found herself with. A smile spread across Lisa’s face, though her hands were still shaking. Movement was made deeper in the alley, not farther than a few steps in front of her. Before Lisa’s eyes were fully up, wire sprang from behind her back. The coils, separated into six sets, spreading out evenly behind Lisa; automatically they pointed towards the threat, swaying back and forth in unison. A woman, older than Lisa, and brimming with confidence stood before her.

It didn’t seem like she was a threat, she was just so. . . She wasn’t prepared to defend or attack, the woman was just present. Without direction the wires lowered slowly, stopping their hypnotic dance. The woman only gazed upon Lisa’s form for a second, before shifting her eyes to the sky. Her words cut clearly through the open space, through the wind and rain, but without need of raising her voice. She spoke of fear being an appropriate response, and Lisa nodded slowly in response; She was clearly entranced by the woman.

She continued, and Spindle listened, though she cautiously urged her mask to reassemble above her face. Now the woman spoke of the advantages of being a villain, the exhilarating thrill it could provide. Again Spindle nodded, and was surprised when the woman offered a handshake. She blinked in surprise, glancing between the woman dressed in red, and her hand, before cautiously accepting it. She would never know why she did.

The woman spoke her name, and Spindle covered her mouth in shock. She suddenly remembered where she had seen that costume before, despite not making the connection herself. Adumbrate was more than a little famous, as mystery tended to excite the public. The exact details were a little fuzzy, though Spindle did remember her being some sort of precog; that made sense considering their current situation.

The woman turned, walking towards the end of the alley, and Lisa felt compelled to follow. She didn’t know what it was, she just couldn’t place her finger on it, but she trusted Adumbrate. The woman just didn't seem like she would try and harm Spindle. The wire that had been extending from her back folded back in on themselves, and once again hid behind her hair. She spoke softly, just loud enough for Adumbrate to hear her above the rain.

"Where are we heading?"

Her voice sounded strained, clearly not as practiced as the words spoken earlier.

Fae stood outside the Warehouse, a quiet smile on her lips as the rain cascaded down her head and body, soaking her through to the bone. It didn't take long after she'd arrived at the back door of the seemingly dilapidated building for Nightfall to open the door for her. Her smile still on her lips she cocked her head to the side, taking in his words. Oh well. The thought floated through her mind before she stepped over the threshold.

Unlike the outside of the building, which held onto years of general disrepair, the interior of the warehouse was immaculate. She noted that a lot of the cracks that she had once seen in the ceiling and upper portions of the walls had been newly sealed, and that the floor had been recently redone. It was almost as if he had someone to impress.

She grinned to herself as they walked in time with one another before she wrapped her arms around one of his, pressing her chest and upper body against him as they made their way to a familiar room.

His quarters.

Once they were within the comfort of his domicile, she giggled and stepped away from him, the rain that had clung to her body rolling off of the fabric of his costume. "Nightfall, may I use your shower?" She spoke, a coy grin on her lips as she gestured to her drenched body. It was unlikely that he would tell her no, if only because he was anal about his space being pristine, and her wet body would otherwise impede that.

Their business could wait the 15 minutes it would take for her to shower and change into the clothes she had sitting in a small cardboard box in the far corner of the room.

---

Nolan Reyes' power allowed him to materialize items stored as blueprints in his memory, and ever since triggering, he had managed to obtain a vast, eclectic collection of general-use equipment schematics. The contents of this wide array ranged from the mundane, to the deadly, and even, to the downright peculiar.

Yet for some reason, an umbrella wasn't one of them.

And he didn’t think he’d really need one either; earlier, when he’d left the house, the weather hadn’t looked this bad. But one hour of Sunday morning mass later, and there it was: fuckin’ precipitation.

’Christ.’ Nolan sprinted along the sidewalk, away from the suburban church and towards his aunt and uncle’s house a few blocks away. ’You try to do Mother Nature a solid, and this is how she repays you.’ His jacket was drenched, his hair was dripping, and overall he was just not having a good time as cars raced by, splashing him with dirty puddle water.

It was days like these that he wished he’d drawn a Mover power. Or checked the weather before he left. Unfortunately, there was no changing the past, and besides, he had always been good at improvising. Ducking into a residential side-street lined with garages and backyard fences, Nolan took a quick moment to ensure there were no cameras or people and their cars in range (there weren’t) before materializing his super-suit around himself.

He grinned. Sure it was white and had no hood, but it didn’t matter if this thing ended up super filthy at the end of the day; after all, at the end of the day it would be nothing more than a memory. He adjusted his Protectorate earpiece - dicking around patrolling in costume without it would be bad form, obviously - and set out again.

By the time Nolan reached his subdivision, his projected jacket was weighing heavy on him and looking not very white at all. Again, he headed over to the most isolated place he could find in order to swap outfits. But just as he was about to take off his earpiece, someone from HQ decided to place a call.

“Hey-o. Chronicle here. Whatcha need?”

On the other end of the line, the contact began explaining the whole issue. Something about the gas station across the street from Giorgio’s Italian Steakhouse getting robbed by a villain. The thing that really caught Nolan’s attention was the fact that the person on the other end kind of sounded about as dead inside as he was during classes. He could really empathize with that. There was an awkward pause before Nolan realized the HQ had stopped speaking and was waiting on his response. He tapped his communicator.

“...Erm, yeah I’m on it. Just… Just let me get an umbrella.”

---

Outside the unlucky little gas station, some combination of PRT and police had arrived to seal off the scene of the crime. This left many drivers low on gas very disgruntled because the closest inner-city gas station was pretty far away. With his ability, Nolan could tell a few of them probably wouldn’t make it given the emptiness of their tanks.

Costume now spotless, pristine and re-summoned, Nolan once-more approached the scene of the crime after patrolling around the area, searching for their mystery wire woman. Unfortunately, clothes fitting the description of the perpetrator’s, large concentrations of metal wire, and that umbrella he said he was going to get earlier were nowhere to be found in the range of his structural analysis field

And thus, Nolan walked over to address the highest ranking PRT officer on scene to pass on the fruits of his labour. In other words, he was about to disappoint yet another adult.

“So uhh... I’m done checking everything out.” The young cape turned his head left and right, looking around with his eyes as if they would reveal anything his structural analysis and the eyes of several bystanders hadn’t. ”I can’t find anyone who could be the gal we’re gunning for. I’ve got a pretty good range on this Thinker ability, so she’s probably gone for good.”

Now left to his own devices, there was an awkward silence about Nolan even as he stood amidst the sounds of the city. He stared across the street, wondering what to do with the rest of his Sunday. Suddenly, an idea struck him. Nolan tapped his earpiece and spoke:

“So... HQ, mind doing me a solid and asking if any of the other Wards are up for a lunch at Giorgio’s?”

The operator - the same dead one from earlier, Nolan noted - gave the expected, professional response to such a query. Luckily, Nolan had a response primed.

“Yeah, yeah. I know I’m not supposed to use this line for personal business. If anyone asks, just call it a team-building exercise or a ‘steak’ out or something.”

There was silence. Nolan took the time to high-five himself for his masterful use of comedy. To bystanders, it looked like he just clapped out of nowhere. What a strange person.

The voice on the other end spoke, and the teenager blinked twice.

"Wait what you’re actually gonna do it?"

From the other side came a confirmation that he would, indeed, "do it".

"_{Wow I didn't expect that to work.} I mean uhh... Thanks a lot, man, I’ll be sure to get you a box of donuts or something whenever I stop by HQ.”

---

Briefly, as she brought his arm against her, nestling it in her bosom, he experienced a scant feeling of physical pleasure, his left eyebrow twitching at the edge ever so slightly. Then he swiftly compartmentalized the sensation into a far off corner of his mind, continuing to his room with her clinging to his arm, which he allowed without complaint, annoyance, or any other notable response or feeling aside from the minuscule twitch of before. As they entered his room, before she had even finished her sentence, he had picked up a towel, aside from the several that were already on the floor. He'd laid them out after checking the weather and his schedule, knowing that in all likelihood his guest would not have an umbrella. As he'd predicted, she was standing on them as she began speaking. He glanced at her, the look brief enough that one could presume he hadn't really given her the typical once over not that it would've been inappropriate anyways, or that he cared about such things when they didn't benefit him.... He was getting distracted.

As such, he did away with the extraneous thought processes and threw two towels at her, one for her hair, and another for the rest of her. “There's wash clothes in the bathroom,” he said, waving dismissively as he pulled his chair out and then sat down at his desk. He ran a fingers over the surface of his closed laptop in a pattern, and then applied pressure in two places. There was a small click before he opened the device and booted it up. “Oh, and your clothes are in there as well, I figured you wouldn't bother to check the weather for today,” he glanced away from the screen, typing a series of twenty passwords with one hand as his eyes bored through her, the look pointed, eyebrows slightly lifted, head cocked slightly, all as if to say 'you really ought to be more thoughtful.' She'd catch the meaning, she wasn't an idiot, even if she didn't think too far forwards.

He turned his gaze back to the laptop, finishing the series of passwords before using the touch pad to scan his fingerprints. Following that it finished booting up and he began pulling up various files as well as booting several programs he used to organize, locate, and sort data. He'd coded them himself. Likely as she headed to the bathroom that was connected directly to his room, only sanctioned off by three walls, with a sliding door on it that could latch shut he spoke again, not looking up this time as he began sinking into his work somewhat, dedicating more of his attention to it. “If you want to talk while you're in there, I had something of an intercom installed. Feel free to use it, but please do be careful not to use channel three, it broadcasts to the whole area. Avoid channel two as well as it broadcasts through the entire warehouse.”

With that said, he opened three documents and plugged in a USB keyboard, typing on both, his movements precise, his eyes locked only on the screen, though his focus on the individual documents and the visual information was periphery in nature.

He had his mind on long term goals, renovations for the warehouse, expansions to others in the city, recruitment, scare tactics, resource and territory acquisition, threat assessment, interpersonal relations and teamwork within his little operation. Skill sets and training for his too--...men. There was the briefest of pauses in his actions before he continued along, focusing on another train of thought.

Potential Allies: Adumbrate(?), unknown quantities.
Allies: Thralls, mercenaries, Fae....

He frowned slightly as he found the train split to a second engine and diverge onto two tracks, one with less on it than the other. Fae....

He'd scheduled time with her today for...what?

His fingers hesitated, then continued. Planning. He wanted to maneuver her, but she was entirely immune to his master power, so he had to ask. It was a little annoying, but to be fair she offered another set of eyes, a different perspective he actually couldn't fracture and build as a simulacrum in his head. An outsider looking in, even if they were pretty involved, in their strange way. It was only sex after all, nothing he really cared about at the end of the day.

He stopped typing, filing away documents, and closing many of the tabs he was using before he opened several more, which he scrolled through with two individual mouses. It was surprising, he thought, that parahumans online still managed to thrive even after something as catastrophic as Golden Morning had occurred. A small smirk played the edge of his lips at the thought and he opened a new tab, accessing a historical archive before finding the document outlining the event.

To have such a power he marveled while he read it over, his eyes and scrolling fast enough that someone who didn't know him would think he was either skimming or just rapidly scrolling down the page looking for some specific spot in the text. To have instantaneous control like that, even with such a limited range... he shook his head before finishing and closing the tab, then exiting out of each tab, and then the browser. When Fae exited the shower there would only be three documents, a record low, open on his laptop and his hands would be steepled on the desk in front of the computer, not typing, but implying that he was focused, or thinking about something in particular. He looked focused, but also pensive in a way, though that was something only she would pick up, after all...to most others his expression would look blank, a deadpan of apathy and disinterest.

It was how he usually looked. Strange that someone with such expressive thoughts and a vast menagerie of perspectives had the tendency of expressing none of it outwardly unless it was to manipulate others.

Such was his way, it appeared. Very few made him break from that path.

Fae was an exception.

---

---

The girl responded well, how cooperative of her, she thought, her expression unchanging from the gentle confidence of before. Shaking the young cape's hand before heading off at a walk, the girl following, Adumbrate waited a few moments before responding, “A safehouse,” she began, her voice cutting through the rain as her movements acted to mitigate any resistance it might reach, “We can't go to your house or mine, we're not so close I'd think, but I can at least direct you somewhere you can hideout in costume if you need to. Plus, perhaps we can get to know one another, I've been looking for a partner, and you seem the right sort.” She glanced towards Spindle, smiling, “You have quite the interesting power, I must say,” she commented, her hand running lightly over the surface of the alley wall, tapping in a pattern of sorts—though it was likely to seem random to the girl.

“Have you settled on a name?” She asked after several moments, using the time to draw in the girl's attention. Her footsteps began to alter ever so slightly and as they did, so too did the pace of the falling rain. It would be imperceptible, but over a period of time the clouds almost sped up as her power bid the storm to pass over their area.

After several minutes they'd covered a good three blocks, with Adumbrate leading her newest companion through alleyways and largely empty streets. Even when people were present, they seemed to look away, enter buildings, or their cars, around the time that the two came into view. It was quite a serendipitous sight, at least for her companion, she figured. To Adumbrate it was normal.

After an additional fifteen minutes of walking they would finally arrive at a building that looked to be a store. Swiftly, she pulled her companion into an alley only for, two minutes later as they rounded a corner and she unlocked a door, for them to hear police sirens race by. Not that it mattered, the PRT was too late, their quarry was already well out of reach.

Entering the building, Adumbrate closed the door behind them before walking out of sight only to come back with four towels. She handed two to Spindle, and used the others on herself, patting herself down and drying out her hair as best she could, using her power all the while. She let it spread from her person, helping her companion dry off as a result. Water would seem to almost move itself out of the fabric of her clothes and the fibers of her hair, pulled into the towel. It was all fairly subtle, but it was likely the girl would notice that she was drier than she ought to be, once she was done with the towels.

Meanwhile, Adumbrate was essentially dry, almost as if she hadn't been in the rain at all. It might strike Spindle as a bit eerie, or it might cause her to fall further into awe and admiration. Either was preferable, as fear could be a wonderful means of control, though adoration was a much more positive and favorable result.

Ceasing the use of her power she walked to a new room, which was fashioned much like the living room of a house. There was a TV, a couch, a table with four chairs, and one visible safe, as well as one or two pictures hung on the wall...and a clock, of course. She took a seat on the couch, laying her towel down length-wise and bidding Spindle do the same before she crossed her legs, relaxed, and spoke. “Well, feel free to make yourself comfortable. You can spend as long as you'd like here. I've even got an extra key,” she said with a smile, “...if you want it that is.” She spun her key around her finger, before throwing it, catching it and then laying her hands on her lap. “I'd suggest staying at least an hour. I can leave before you, you can change, and then head home at your leisure, as by that time the PRT and police will have left the area for the most part.” What she didn't say, but what was still portrayed, was that she had effectively given Spindle almost assured safe passage, as well as a place she could hole up whenever she wanted to.

Offering hospitality was, of course, the mark of a good host and she considered herself an impeccable one.

“Now, since we have time to kill, are you hungry?”

---

---

She'd gone to bed early the day before and she'd woken up drowsy anyways, that's what she got for patrolling and practicing with her power too long, she thought as she rose from bed in her typical sleepwear, a biiig soft baggy T-shirt, and undies. She walked drowsily out of her room and to the bathroom, just a door across the hall, rubbing her eyes along the way and closing the bathroom door behind her. She realized she'd forgotten her towel, and so sighed and brushed her teeth instead, taking care of her business, before walking back to her room in a similar, if slightly more awake, state and retrieving a change of clothes and a towel. Then she went back to the bathroom, turned on the shower, set her clothes on the counter and hung her towel up near the standing shower, before disrobing and climbing in to let the war--oh god cold!--water wash over her, shocking her awake. “Wooo,” she exclaimed loudly, before swiftly slapping her hand over her mouth, realizing her parents would still be asleep. However, after a moment, while she swiftly adjusted the heat of the water, she laughed a little at her silliness, as she remembered that her father was off on a business trip, and her mother had told her yesterday that she'd leave her breakfast because she had some early errands to run.

Retrieving her shampoo from the bathroom counter via reaching out of the shower curtain with her dripping wet arm before squirting some onto her hand and rubbing it into her wet purple hair. While she washed her hair she planned out the rest of her day, her brain sufficiently awake after the cold water to allow such. Hmm, I think I'll do half of my homework, then head to HQ to stretch my power and work out a bit before going out on patrol, she thought, only to frown slightly after that point, her hands briefly stopping in their attempt to wash her hair. She didn't have anything to do after that, but she didn't want to patrol all day.... Maybe she'd call one of the other wards and they could hang out? They knew each other by now so it wouldn't be a problem if they met up out of costume, right? She nodded her head before her hands began moving again, finishing her hair before she rinsed out the shampoo and retrieved the body soap to begin that process. Ten minutes of shower-time later she was letting the water run over her, eyes closed, with a smile on her face, before she turned off the water, pushed back the shower curtain, and grabbed her towel, standing on the bathmat while she wrapped it around herself, before realizing that she hadn't brought a second towel in for her hair.

She frowned, and then a brilliant idea struck her and she closed her eyes and focused. Immediately awareness of her projection lit up in her mind, brought to the forefront of her attention, the silver glow of its shadow hovering in her room around her bed in an indistinct shape. She scanned her bed in its entirety: Blankets, sheets, wooden frame, the memory foam of her mattress, and the downy pillows before she had it expand and find the glass of water by her bed. With all that in place she swiftly picked a size and shape, deciding on a diminutive four foot tall imp-like creature. She pushed the idea of 'cuteness' into the projection, then picked the materials it would be made from.

Internal Traits: Wood(hardness)/water(fluidity) for structural traits=flexibility, minor durability and reliability. Bone analogue.
External Traits: Cloth(softness and its other properties), flesh/skin analogue.

For fun she had it scan one of her buttoned shirts and some marbles before continuing.

Eye analogue, marbles. Light refraction, two sets of eyes for larger range of view.

She then made a point of shaping an extension off of its head to create something akin to a hood.

When she was done she opened her eyes, three seconds had passed. She bid her projection to manifest next to her bed. It did so and she commanded it to get her a specific towel. It did so and then opened her door, presumably as she heard it and felt it do so as its location approached hers. It opened the bathroom door and closed it behind itself. That when she got a glimpse of it.

It was adorable in its own weird way. Standing at four feet with a two legs and two arms, it was a little hunched over imp-like figure with the patterns of her blanket over it. Its body was composed almost entirely of cloth, probably stuffed with the down material she'd scanned from her pillows, and its fingers had tiny wooden claws at the end of each finger and its thumb. Its eyes were marbles and it had buttons down its chest, as well as a cloth hood-like construction that extended from its back up over its head and to where a human's eyebrows would be, slightly overshadowing its face. A friendly smile was stitched onto its face as it looked up towards her, holding its short arms up with the towel.

She smiled and giggled, taking the towel from her creation and drying her hair with it, commanding the projection to run on autopilot. Mentally she had already started counting down the minutes to when she'd have to dismiss the projection. She wanted to keep the cute little imp around for a little while. She was certain it'd be helpful somehow, if only for a bit of cuddling while she ate breakfast, or some reassurance while she did her homework.

She was right. After drying her hair she walked to her room with her clothes, deciding to change there as she'd changed her mind a bit on what she wanted to wear, she rifled through her dresser before deciding on her casual wear for the day. Glancing out her window she saw the rain, the sound of it striking the house and the ground quite distinct. She frowned a bit and reassessed her choice in outfits, picking one or two other things, before laying it all out on her bed and staring at it with a slight pout on her lips, her hands on her hips. She sighed, realizing it had already been three minutes and all she'd put on were her underwear.

After another minute she finally settled for pulling on some black tights, a long sleeved very dark blue sweater dress and some knee length jeans—also blue. Turning her shoulders from side to side, and her body in turn, she checked her choice out in the mirror, before smiling a bit and offering a quiet and victorious “Hnm,” at her reflection. She spun a bit, smiling again before looking down at her projection, which had cocked its head to the side at her. It had been five minutes, so it was acting of its own accord now. “Do you like it, Imp?” she asked, bending down as if she were talking to a child. The cloth imp put a finger to its cheek, thinking a moment, before nodding, eliciting a smile from Evelyn, as well as a nuzzle to the projection's cheek.

She then went downstairs, ate the french toast her mother had left her yum~ before asking her projection, nicely, to retrieve her homework from upstairs—it did.

When it returned she checked her phone, noting it had been seven minutes. She began laying her homework out on the now empty dinner table. She'd cleared the table and done the dishes while her imp had gathered the necessary supplies for her schoolwork. Once she had it all laid out she glanced at the imp, kneeled down, gave it a little hug, before speaking “Time for a nap buddy, wouldn't want you getting grouchy on me,” she said with a small smile before standing up and dismissing the projection juuust at the 9 minute mark.

She then sat down to do her homework. It took her about an hour to get through three subjects, which was half of what she had to do. Stretching she began putting the work away, before using her projection to scan the same stuff and take on the same cloth imp form. She bid it to carry the stuff back to her room and arrange it neatly. It did so.

She checked outside again, noting that it was still raining, so she had the imp retrieve her raincoat and umbrella before it came back downstairs from her second floor room. Once it arrived she donned the coat, having already put on her shoes. She noticed that it had also grabbed her backpack. She smiled at it and took it, putting it on, before she realized she didn't have her keys.

The imp went and got them, bringing them to her before she dismissed it, opening the door to the pouring rain, before opening her umbrella, locking the door and heading out. It was a bit of a pain walking through the dreary rain to get to HQ. Partway there she stopped in a park, using her projection to expand over a wide area and act as watch. She entered an empty bathroom and changed into her costume. She waited a few minutes, using her projection to notify her as to whether or not there was anyone or anything watching as she exited in costume. She had it scan some nearby things, metal, light fixtures, concrete, as well as taking some traits from her bedroom that she'd scanned before she left, before arranging it into a 12 foot tall figure with an Evelyn sized hollow in its chest. She bid it to manifest in a way that suited for travel, protection against the rain, speed, and comfort for her.

It did so, forming into a massive humanoid construct made of an odd mixture of concrete, metal and cloth. Oddly it didn't make the ground crack as it knelt down, letting her climb into its chest through a hole that sealed behind her. She noticed it had also used glass in its construction, which had apparently been reinforced by other traits. She could see out its chest cavity because of the clear substance. She had her backpack in the spot too, noticing that aside from the glass it was quite comfortable, what with it feeling like a mixture of a pillow and a blanket, plus a water bed. The small chamber was even warm, as it had scanned some electrical components from a nearby camera, which channeled through its body, generating a measure of heat. She smiled a bit and then commanded it to head for headquarters.

It sprang into action, small tendrils of cloth-like material bracing her. While she did bounce a bit with its steps, the trip wasn't really that uncomfortable and she arrived before she had to dismiss the projection. Climbing down and extending her umbrella she waved to her projection, backpack on, before dismissing it, the 12 foot behemoth vanishing, replaced by a dull silver glow that was hardly visible in the rain. She entered the building waving at some of the staff before heading to the observation room that had been set up beneath the PRT building. Sadly, no one was there, causing her to frown. She did notice that the computer said that both Dreamwalker and Chronicle were on patrol. As such she decided to stay at HQ for awhile, using the gym to get some exercise in before it was her shift.

Her shift never came, instead her comms device went off, notifying her of a robbery, apparently committed by a parahuman. She ground her teeth at the mere thought of it. Why would someone use their power to hurt and disadvantage others, especially given the state of the world when they could use it for good. It just didn't make sense to her...and it bothered her more than she liked to admit. Eventually calming down and sighing, she headed back up the elevator and towards the exit to the building. She had already reconfigured her projection when another transmission came through her earpiece. “As a 'teambuilding exercise' Chronicle was wondering if you, and the other Wards, would like to meet at Giorgio's Steakhouse for lunch,” the almost monotone voice of a PRT communication operator informed her. She couldn't help but laugh a little as she pushed the door open, thanking the operator for relaying the message before she switched channels and contacted Chronicle directly.

“Hey Chron, it's Tulpa. I'm pretty hungry actually, I think I'll join you for that 'teambuilding exercise'” she said with a smile in her voice. “I'll be over in, uh...” she paused a moment as she glanced at the heads up display she'd asked Cory to integrate into the 'blindfold,' of her costume, using GPS to figure out how long it would take by car to get to Giorgio's. After several seconds she spoke again, tapping her earpiece, “...maybe, like 8 minutes, give or take. Hopefully less than 10,” she said, before she reconfigured her projection, manifested it and figuratively 'buckled up,' for the ride. “See ya in 10!” she said before her projection's now quadrupedal, but nonetheless massive, wolf-lizard form, erupted into action. She'd designed it with horizontally aligned frills, that ended up shielding her from the rain. She obeyed the traffic laws, of course, using her tulpa to get her from point A to B as she tended to do rather often.

It took awhile, but finally, after 11 minutes—she was really pushing it this time—she arrived at the steakhouse. Jumping from her projection's back and unfurling her umbrella almost in the same motion, she dismissed it even as it turned towards a car that had just blared its horn. She shuddered a bit, realizing that it had been growling before it had de-manifested.

Realizing she was in costume, Evelyn frowned before walking away from the steakhouse and heading into an isolated area, using the attention the gas station was drawing to slip away. She went a block or two away before, rather scandalously, changing clothes in an alley. She exited the alley and headed back to the steakhouse, entering in her same outfit from earlier. It would draw less attention. She had however, kept her earpiece in. “Nolan, you better have come her out of character. I'd like to eat in peace you know,” she said a few minutes before arriving at the steakhouse. She entered the building to get out of the rain, closing her umbrella, before looking around for Nolan, aka Chronicler.

Where was that boy, she thought, a hand on her hip.

An incessant buzzing woke Casper, but it wasn’t sudden. It felt like his mind had been sitting idle, waiting for the moment when the alarm would go off, and as such there was no sense of drowsiness. He sat up, removing the tangled blanket from around him as he looked around the room. By instinct Casper activated his power, recalling the room he was in as it was last night. His past self looked about the room, confirming everything was in place, and now Casper double checked each item without standing.

The room was decorated quite sparsely, the most lavish thing being his laptop. It was a beefy laptop, obviously meant for gaming, and as such had three fans on the bottom, with a secondary hard drive attached via usb. Upon entering the room, you would see a bed on your right, tucked into the far corner, with the end right below a window straight in front of you. On the left side of the door, leaning against the wall, was a wooden dresser. It had an upper area for shirts, and four smaller drawers for pants, undergarments, socks, and seasonal attire. The desk was on the leftmost wall, running parallel to the wall, a cup for pencils and pens on top of it as well as a stack of paper.

Truth be told, Casper hadn’t used pen and paper in years, completing most of his school work digitally. His handwriting was atrocious, and he preferred his teachers not having to find that out the hard way. The center of the room had a small circular burgundy rug; it was a sharp contrast from the white carpet. Casper frowned when he noticed that the external hard drive for his laptop had been touched during the night, the port it was plugged into having changed from the closest on the left to the farthest. Besides a small change in the positioning of his pens and pencils, his room had stayed the same.

Mother will never learn He thought, frowning at the discovery. She always had to snoop, and when she had found out attempting to get into his laptop was impossible because of its password she hadn’t given up. She now inspected anything, and everything that wasn’t in a lockbox. It was kind of justified, though Casper hated to admit it. After his trigger he had become adept at handling social situations of all kinds. He knew how to get what he wanted, where before he didn’t know what he wanted. This was a sharp contrast, and it was only a couple of weeks before the change had been completed. This left his mother to wonder where the timid boy she had raised had gone.

Casper stood up, the cold air tickling his lungs when he tried to breath, and bringing about a coughing fit. He moved to the dresser, opening the two tall doors, behind which was his shirts. He quickly activated his power, going back to the memory of him talking to Tulpa last Thursday. He sped through the memory, not reliving it, but just waiting for a moment. It wasn’t there. He changed to the time before last, watching the memory unfold in fast motion, his attention fully on her eyes.

There.

She was speaking of some classwork when she glanced down momentarily at his shirt. The edges of her lips turned up the smallest bit as she did so, the corner of her eyes crinkling. Not a smile, but it was as telling as a flashing neon sign in Casper’s book. He deactivated his power, returning to the present once again. He blinked a couple times, before reaching out for the freshly washed purple edge of the shirt he had worn three days ago. It would be a fruitless effort if he didn’t see her, but he was hoping to convince their supervisor to put them together for tonight’s patrol.

He opened the closest drawer on the left, pulling out a pair of black pants. He precariously held it to his chest along with the shirt he had chosen, as he opened the drawer on the other side. He grabbed some boxers, and moved to the bathroom across the hall, setting down his clothing on the edge of the marble sink. The door closed noiselessly at a touch, and Casper removed the few articles of clothing he had worn to bed. He stepped into the shower, and turned it to a preset temperature setting at a touch.

The water poured over him, and he relished the warm sensation slowly. Casper smiled, putting his hand against the black granite wall, a small blue flicker flashing across it. The blue consolidated into a thin outline, spreading across the large portion of the wall of the shower. The image was pure black, but music started playing. He recalled the rest of the memory, and removed his hand, letting the musical visionless image stay.

“I can’t be your Superman, your Superman, your Superman.
I can’t be your Superman, but I can be your Alexandria,”

The female lead sang, with a pop instrumental behind it. The song was clearly written around the chorus, though Casper didn’t particularly mind the lack of depth. He quickly finished his shower, before the song had run its course, and turned off the memory displayed on the wall. He picked up his towel from off the rack, and quickly dried himself from head to toe, before putting on his clothes. Casper moved to the mirror, picking up a brush, and got to work making his hair manageable. He replayed a small, almost irrelevant memory to make sure his hair was styled correctly before putting on a reasonable amount of deodorant and spray. They, together, costed about two hundred dollars.

The door opened, steam rushing out as Casper moved out of the shower, and back to his room. He picked up the smartphone from his desk, along with the PRT communicator. He had gotten one that was slightly smaller than the standard so he could wear it inconspicuously in public, though it was regularly tuned to the frequency exclusively used for direct communications with the Wards. He moved outside of his room, and down the stairs with a practiced ease, his hand lightly gripping the mahogany hand rail. He had learned, soon after getting his power, that his mother seemed less anxious as long as he kept his hand on the rail when heading down, and Casper had forced it into a habit.

The small gesture was meaningless as his mother had headed to work early. Case files were spread across the table, and that made Casper frown. His mother didn’t normally head to work on Sundays, much less leave her work on the table. Again Casper activated his power, replaying the conversation he had had with her last night. His memory showed him pausing before walking away from where she was working on the table. Casper focused on the paper she was writing on, trying her best to read the letters upside down. A breath escaped his lips as he finally deciphered the words, though they made no sense. Just a bunch of legal nonsense, composed mostly of jargon.

Casper went back further listening to his mother complain about her “incompetent shit of a secretary”. He had met the young intern before, and he seemed to be okay, not particularly bright, but he really didn’t need the smarts as a secretary; though Casper’s mother might disagree. His mother had also talked about the pressure the merger was putting on her, and the disproportionate amount of work put on her as opposed to her coworkers.

The act of recalling was becoming too time consuming for Casper to continue, so he capitulated his efforts, and decided a better use of his time would be eggs. He quickly made himself scrambled eggs, interrupting the process partway through to toast some bread, and grab some cold ham out of the fridge. After finishing the eggs he scraped the residue into the trash, put a small amount of oil back on the pan, and cooked the ham for long enough to make it a reasonable ubiquitous temperature.

Casper finished making his breakfast with a patient ease, and finished by pouring himself a glass of orange juice. He sat down at the table, devouring the food quickly, and guzzling down his drink impatiently. He sighed pleasurably, and moved his dishes to the dishwasher before heading out the door, and towards the PRT headquarters. It was a good three quarters of a mile walk from his house, and made him go through some lower class neighborhoods then he usually attended; then again he was used to a gated community.

A glance at the time alerted Casper that it was currently noon, and that his earlier meal had been a late brunch. He frowned, noting that he’d have to fix that habit. His body shape had been improving ever since acquiring his power, and he regularly ‘remembered’ working out to stimulate his muscles. His height was also not unreasonable for his age, and he was currently standing at six foot. If only his power was less subtle, than it might be more useful in combat. He had been given multiple kinds of combat training, as well as practicing at a gun range twice a week, and he still wouldn’t be any help when it came to fighting a brute, or blaster, or any shit like that.

Regardless, it was useless to dwell on things like this. If he didn’t focus on it he found he would have less anxiety, which was obviously a goal. There were many great long term health benefits associated with lower anxiety, if he recalled correctly; then again Casper always did.

A glance at the sky alerted Casper, too late, that he should have brought a jacket, scarf, and umbrella with him. He frowned, glancing down at his attire, before putting a bit more purpose into his strides. Within thirty minutes he reached the PRT headquarters, arriving just after it began to rain. He didn’t get very wet, as he was only faced with the beginning of the storm, though the rain did quickly intensify once he did arrive.

The first order of business he was obligated to take care of was giving a report to his superiors about a recent incident during his patrol. That report consisted of him displaying two hours and thirty minutes of patrolling, followed by him helping to arrest a man guilty of public intoxication. Luckily that seemed sufficient for the group he presented to, and he was released early because of a developing situation.

The developing situation turned out to be a dinner planned by Nolan, and communicated through official PRT channels. Casper chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief as he accepted the invitation, before frowning as he glanced outside. A phone slipped out from Casper’s pocket, and he dialed a cab quickly while standing near the exit.


Their pace wasn’t uncomfortable, though it was hard to match Adumbrate’s ever changing pace. The woman answered Spindle’s question readily, telling her their destination was a safehouse. She continued, speaking of a safe place to stay, and about Spindle being her partner. It was strange though, the way the woman talked. She switched between speaking of present and future as if they were both just as. . . Current? Maybe it was just Spindle’s imagination.

The complement elicited a smile from Spindle, and she nodded in response. Adumbrate ran her hand over the alley wall after they crossed an empty road, tapping intermittently. She then asked if Spindle had settled on a name, and she answered verbally this time.

"Spindle, I’ve decided on the name Spindle."

Adumbrate once again changed her pace, and Spindle took notice but didn’t comment. The inconvenience would be forgotten quickly, as one tended to do. Spindle decided to see if anyone was following them, but only saw a large amount of foot traffic behind them. That was odd, the footpath had been clear a little bit ago, without a soul to spot them. Spindle glanced forward at Adumbrate, and then further ahead. Someone walked past in the alley ahead, but a door closed and the person was gone once they were close enough to be seen.

It was a little unnerving, and Spindle would seem stiff for the rest of their walk. She almost laughed out of stress, as they were getting inhumanly lucky. It was another ten minutes before they reached the apparent destination, and they entered just as police sirens raced by outside. Adumbrate closed the door, and left momentarily only to return with towels; two towels for each of them.

Spindle thanked the woman quietly before beginning the laborious process of drying herself. She started with her hair, using her wire to position it when it would normally be inaccessible. She went from top to bottom, and, for some reason, it did seem effective. She kept her hair away from her body as she dried that next, and again was mildly surprised about how fortunate she was. In retrospect it would only seem that she hadn’t gotten as wet from the rain as she had expected, even if that wasn’t the case.

Truth be told Spindle did not take note of Adumbrate’s apparent bone-dry-ness, as the woman didn’t draw attention to it. Adumbrate departed again, and this time Spindle interpreted the way she left as a bid to follow. Spindle obliged. The room they entered was reminiscent of a living room, but only if one ignored the safe in the corner. Adumbrate sat down on the couch, and motioned for Spindle to do the same, and she waited a moment too long before doing so. As the woman spoke Spindle listened, taking care to smooth her dress and remain decent. She set the plastic bag full of various bills on the floor carelessly.

Adumbrate offered her a safehouse, with seemingly no strings attached, and Spindle seemed uncomfortable with the proposition. Though she definitely appreciated the offer and wanted to say yes, it just seemed like it was going too fast. She barely knew this woman, and she was already offering her a place to hide out from the cops. Could it be a trap? No, no that just didn’t seem right, but then. . . Something seemed strange about the situation, especially considering she seriously considering accepting the offer.

At the offer of food Spindle smiling underneath the wire mask, mostly in appreciation, before considering for a second. "I'm not particularly hungry, but if you have a coffee machine, I'd like to brew myself a pot." She said, and glanced about quickly. Her wire mask began to remove itself from her face. It was wrapped from the bottom up, all laid horizontally across her face with no gaps except the space for her eyes.

It seemed to remove itself, and she willed it in front of her with the rest of her wire supply. She released the wire holding the man at the gas station, before making more of the stuff with simple movements. She grabbed one of the wires, and seemed to pull more of it out of itself. She was nowhere near her limit right now, but it was also cumbersome to have that much wire. Lisa forced the wire to form into bracelets, totaling about twenty per arm. They were simple things, without any stylish designs or flare, though they didn't move particularly often.

The entire process took about forty seconds, the routine methodical, almost mechanical in nature. Once she finished she stood, smoothing out her dress absently-mindedly, before speaking again. "Alright, I'm ready." The smoothing of Lisa's dress, though it may have seemed like a pretty routine activity, was a nervous habit that almost everyone noticed, excluding herself.

As Fae waited for Nightfall's answer to her question, she glanced around the room lazily. Admittedly, she hadn't noticed the towels that she'd stepped on as she walked into the room, as they simply felt like carpet beneath her shoes. While she settled her gaze back on the "man of the house," so-to-speak, she caught him looking over her, ever so slightly though the gesture was.

She couldn't help but grin.

When he threw two towels at her, she caught them rather easily while listening to him tell her where everything was in the bathroom. There was a pause as she looked at him, and wordlessly put the towels down on the end of his bed. Inhaling through her nose, the brunette shivered as a chill passed over her body. "Mm." The woman murmured absently before reaching down at the edges of her shirt and pulling the garment free of her body. Her pants swiftly followed her shirt, until she was standing in front of him in just her undergarments, an unashamed smile on her face.

After a moment, still smiling, she walked over to him before he could move out of her path, her body mere centimeters from his. As a heartbeat passed between them, she rested a hand on his cheek. Time seemed to slow as she gently guided his head down just enough where her lips brushed against his for a moment before she fully kissed him, her body closing the distance between them. The kiss was hot, deep, the flame of passion that burned beneath her skin aching to be released. It took a good deal of her willpower not to follow up with anything as she pulled away.

She draped her wet clothes over her shoulder, absently grabbing the towels from the end of his bed before walking into the bathroom, only barely catching what he had said about the intercom.

Once inside the rather large bathroom, the white-blue tiles were in great contrast to the rest of the warehouse. It was a little funny, actually. As she looked around the room, several things caught her eye: The garnet-topped sink; it's sleek black exterior popping out the white walls and floor like an obelisk, the shower which took up a rather sizable portion of wall it's clear glass walls and door would leave nothing to the imagination should someone decide to pay a visit, finally her eyes fell on the alcove in the corner of the room between the sink and the portion of wall that the shower didn't take up; there, a large Jacuzzi tub sat with two small stairs leading up the base. She almost had to force herself to ignore the little black boxes that sat over the Jacuzzi and in the shower, both covered by an outer shell of plastic with only the buttons free, likely to protect them from water damage; they probably had some sort of sealant on them as well.

"Where do you even get this stuff?" The woman muttered to herself, as she walked over to the shower to turn on the water.

While she waited for the water to heat up to a level she could stand, Fae meandered around the room, setting her wet clothes in the sink, and putting the towels on the bar on the outside of the shower. After a moment or two of looking, she found the clothes she'd left as a contingency nestled in the cabinet beneath the sink.

She couldn't help but smile.

Once she had finished looking around the room, she walked over the shower to check the water again and found that it was the perfect temperature, steam welling up around her feet. Still smiling, she stepped inside, the heat of the stream eliciting a small sigh of pleasure.



After washing and drying off, Fae stepped free of the still steam-filled shower and grabbed her dry clothes. A white shirt and a pair of dark denim jeans hugged her body tightly as she opened the door to the bathroom. Steam billowed out behind her as she walked into Nightfall's room, her hands working her hair back into the ponytail she'd been wearing prior, her bare feet moving noiselessly over the towels.

She glanced at the villain who had taken up sitting at his desk, and her head tilted. Only three documents? How strange. She could see the muscles in his back were taut with how he was holding his body, thinking. For a moment, she debated simply sitting on his bed and watching him, but that thought was quickly dashed. She wasn't so passive as that.

Quietly walking up behind him, she threw her arms around his shoulders loosely, pressing her chest into his back as she leaned over, her head resting on his shoulder. "What's wrong?" She asked as she saw the look on his face, her hands resting lazily on his chest.

She didn't even bother trying to read the documents that were up on the screen, she wanted him to answer.

---

Out of city limits, beyond all the authority of most, and outside of their control regardless, a silhouette approached. With Ash City's suburbs in sight, the masked figure's feet touched street and soon after, sidewalk. The first house came into view. Rather than a white picket fence, it was one of cold metal and barbed wire. His smiling mask revealed his amusement as he ran the fingers of his right hand over the part of the fence without barbs. He continued walking, his fingers dragging against the fence's metal links, before finally, after walking the length of it, he grasped several links in the fence, and pulled with a sharp tearing motion. In a single action the fence's metal was stripped bare, the fence itself condensing and reshaping in his hand until it formed a cuboid lattice, before becoming a spherical lattice, then an octagonal lattice, ad infinitum, the changes occurring swiftly.

The man began tossing the lattice into the air, catching it each time as it fell, as he walked along his merry way. After several more minutes a corner store came into view and he chuckled to himself lightly as he walked across the street and entered the parking lot. With a deft and dexterous movement of his hand he manipulated the metal lattice and it sprung out into needle tipped cords that speared outwards and struck all the nearby cameras.

Passersby reacted in shock, surprise, and a few even took a step closer, calling out. “Hey, you! The hell do you think you're doing!?” One man yelled towards him, the stranger making his way across the street to reach him.

Turning ever so slightly, his stance shifting, he let his head turn, looking over his shoulder at the stranger who had managed to cross the street to reach him. As he turned, that same smiling mask came into the stranger's view, and it was in that moment that they stopped. “Oh. Oh no...” uttered the man as he apparently began to realize just who he was looking at, and what that meant. “Oh god,” the man said, now louder. The stranger began to turn, but before he could start into a run, the masked figure manipulated the mechanism in his hand, the metal cord retracting in an instant as the entire mechanism shifted its form. In a moment it was something resembling a gun, before he reconsidered entirely.

The stranger bolted, trying to get as much distance as he could whilst the object of his distress hesitated, then reconfigured the metal lattice into cord and something like a javelin. Taking a step forwards, bracing his body, before hoisting the weapon back with one hand, the other gripping the cord, and then thrusting it forwards and into flight through the air. The stranger looked back and threw himself to the side, rolling into the grass in an attempt to avoid the javelin, but he had miscalculated for as the weapon reached the zenith of its master's throw it split into hundreds of smaller metal projectiles, before pelting the sidewalk, asphalt, and grass where the man stood, some of the metal piercing his limbs and even chest—though none of it was fatal.

There were gasps, and numerous people reaching for their phones to call the authorities, but the villain was faster, having already walked to a telephone pole and placed his hand upon it, his right hand still grasping the cord from the 'javelin,' he had thrown. After a brief time he tore his hand free of the wooden pole before making contact again, slamming his hand into the surface. In response the wood rippled and then in one fell movement split where it held wires, before slamming down upon the wires, severing them completely.

He smiled beneath his mask, noticing a man who had exited his home with a rifle, which he was raising to aim in his direction. He waved his hand at the man dismissively before turning away and walking towards the corner store.

At the motion, the telephone pole's wood shot out as shrapnel and struck the man, plugging the barrel of his gun and blinding him all at once. The villain laughed quietly to himself at the sound of the civilian's screams. However, in the relative quiet of the morning...his voice was like thunder in the streets. Nonetheless, he made his way into the store by way of pushing the door open, hand in contact with the glass.

The cashier already had a shotgun raised and aimed, but the glass shattered and shot forwards first, slicing the man's fingers clean off before he could react. “Nice try mister,” he said with amusement as the cashier clutched his mutilated hand, a look of clear agony and hatred in his eyes as he tracked the villainous cape. “Besides, I'm not robbing you, I'm merely reassembling some loose material into something more...” he whirled his hand in a circle midair, as if trying to find a word there, “... practical.”

The cashier practically growled at him as he responded, “Yer not taking nothing from this store boy and if ya do, mark my words, this'll be the last city you see with free eyes.”

Beneath his mask, the cape raised his eyebrows even as he tilted his head and brought a finger up to his chin. “Mmm, I don't think so, sir,” he said, before grabbing the man's ruined hand and slamming it down against the counter, eliciting a pained grunt from the man. In the same moment his free hand made contact with the register and after a moment, pulled away, causing it to come apart in the same motion. His mask smiled at the man, before he turned away, waving his free hand at two girls who were hiding in a nearby aisle. The two appeared to be sisters, one very young, perhaps six, while the other was in her adolescence—not that it mattered to him. It made him frown beneath his mask as he exited the store, but the expression was a fleeting one.

His smile returning as he looked out upon what was now an empty street aside from one lone figure, a man wearing an ill matched orange and blue skintight suit, cape and all. This time, he outright laughed, hand to stomach, body curling over a bit, before he recovered, only to find the cape frowning a bit. It appeared to be more frustration than anything else. “Oh you must be kidding. You're new,” he said, looking the cape up and down, “In fact, I'd be willing to bet on you not being sanctioned, and trust me...I'm not a man who bets without odds stacked disproportionately in my favor.”

“Doesn't matter,” the greenhorn cape responded, trying to sound brave, even managing to be somewhat convincing to the bemused villain. “I'm going to stop you before you get further into the city,” the cape said before he began walking towards the masked villain, who, in response, leaned against one of the gas pumps, and picked his fingernails. The hero paused, frowning again, but before he could speak again a voice issued from behind the smiling mask, “You know, gas is quite explosive if introduced to the right chemicals. All it'd need is a little spark,” he said, his eyes looking up from his fingers to mock the hero's. “You do anything and let me tell you, the entire reserve of gas stored beneath this station goes boom,” he stood up fully, using his hands to, rather theatrically, make an explosion.

The greenhorn cape would notice that even as he spoke the gas pumps were already changing shape, their screens suddenly displaying the word ARMED after only a mere three seconds. The villain smiled as the realization that he couldn't leave before evacuating the immediate vicinity came over him.

Walking towards the boy hero, he continued speaking, “Oh, and by the way, knocking me out will act as a tidy little killswitch for all the life signs of those nearby so swiftly perish the idea, mmm?” He patted the kid on the shoulder, looking at him before he passed, “But don't worry, there's no timer...yet. Not so long as you make sure no one calls the authorities nearby. I'll find out pretty quick if they do and well, I'll flip the switch.” He paused a moment, giving the hero a conspiratorial glance, “I imagine I don't need to illustrate again the chaos that would cause. Now, you go take care of your neighborhood. Take care, hero boy,” he said, slapping the cape's back as he walked away, everything about his demeanor confident...no, cocky as he swaggered away.

The greenhorn hero on the other hand, had clenched his fists and his jaw, standing still for a long moment before swallowing his pride. After another moment of gathering his wits he sprinted into the corner store and looked around to see if everyone was alright. The cashier wasn't, but waved him off with his still intact left hand. “Don't worry about me boy, spread the damned villain's message, and then get yourself to the PRT buildin', they're the only chance we've got.” The hero's brow knit with worry and confusion, “What do you mean sir?”

The cashier looked up, jaw muscles tense, eyes serious as he met the boy's own. “Because that there wasn't no normal villain, boy. That was Avulse and he turns good to do cities...into ghost towns.”

---

---

Her kiss wasn't startling, but it did interrupt his train of thought briefly, the entire thing stopping, though not derailing, she'd have to try harder than that to cause that sort of thing. When she drew away he gave her the most subtle of smiles, barely a quirk to his lips or a glimmer of real emotion in his lightly glowing pink irises. Then she retreated and he turned to his desk, his the train of thought starting once again, and running while he worked till it reached its conclusion.

Absently, part of him noticed the shower turn off in the background, his attention to his surroundings peripheral, but he still heard her approaching, shifting his awareness of her and his surroundings back into the front of his mind before she draped herself on his neck, pressing her chest against his back. She was doing it intentionally, he knew, trying to get a rise out of him. Make him attack her in that way she liked oh so much. He didn't relent, he didn't show any reaction, but instead continued staring at the screen, focused. After a long moment of silence and a window or two popping up unbidden, he replied the slightest of frowns forming on his brow, “I was contemplating what the next moves should be, but it appears we have something more pressing to deal with.” He glanced at her, not turning his head enough for her to reach his lips, he knew her far too well for all of that.

His hands left their position, one moving to the mouse, which he moved to the program that had just opened. He typed in several passwords with one hand, while he clicked with the other. After a brief two seconds the window expanded to fullscreen and several short video clips displayed in succession.

The first was of what appeared to be a man in a white smiling mask walking down the street in the suburbs of the city, before the angle changed, revealing the man running his hand along a fence, before that fence basically folded itself into the figure's hand. The clip stopped and the next played, showing the same figure walk to a gas station before there was a flash of movement and the camera's screen turned to static. Gael replayed that one again, slowed it down slightly, then moved on, his brain slowing it down further and running over the footage in a simulation, revealing something shifting in the figure's hand before what appeared to be some kind of projectile thrust out and destroyed the camera.

The next two videos were differing views on the same two situations, but they were a bit fuzzy. Gael clicked onto a different portion of the program after a moment, letting Fae process the information that had taken him effectively no time to understand before he swapped over. He hit a key on the laptop, unmuting the speakers, before plugging it into a sound system. He then hit several play buttons in unison, and a cacophony of phones ringing followed by frantic voices came through all at once. It would be impossible for Fae to understand any of it. After he'd listened to the calls three times, he let each play one after the other, letting her listen.

They were all similar. Every one of them gave a description of the figure, was calling the police for vague assistance, was trying to contact the PRT, or was calling an ambulance for someone injured, as well as several calls for repairs to various locations. To Gael they spelled one thing, trouble, and not the sort he liked. Abruptly, he tapped her on the head lightly, his signal to her to get up. When she moved her head, he would rise from his seat, before pushing it into the desk. He extracted his phone and began dialing a number, ready to make a call.

He glanced at Fae, expression a mixture of serious and blank, before he spoke, the phone not yet ringing. “I'll be right back, please stay here for a minute,” he paused, walking over to her, tipping her chin up with his free hand, before kissing her deeply. Her thoughts and every tiny reaction informing him as to how to do so. After only twenty seconds, which likely felt like a blissful eternity, he drew away, letting his hand brush her cheek before he exited the room, closing the door behind him. He licked his lips once he was out of sight, then hit the call button.

It only took him a minute to tell the right people what he needed to, before he hung up, and then headed back into his room, all business now. “Now that I have that taken care of, I want to ask if you recognize that mask. It's quite distinctive. You'd think there were hundreds of capes with that exact one, but you'd be wrong. It's unique. Do you know who it belongs to?” He met her eyes, his gaze unwavering, never straying to the rest of her, his undivided attention aimed towards her as a person, rather than her as a woman. There was too much to do, he didn't need the distractions that came with regarding her as the latter...not for the moment at least.

XXX

Used this in an essay contest, don't want it plagiarism checked.

Email me for post

---

With a nod in response, Adumbrate made her way over to a door in the right side of the room. She passed through and out of sight. Moving with purpose she filled the coffee machine with high grade coffee beans, before she put a kettle of water to boil on the stove. She would make herself some tea. With those acts done her mind turned to considering her next move. She knew the girl was balking, clearly overwhelmed by the offer of a partnership so early in her time as a cape, so instead she would merely offer to help. It was a few rungs lower on the ladder, and so it was far more likely to succeed, especially now that she had set a base expectation for the girl.

This in mind she strolled casually back into the room and sat down, giving the girl plenty of space as she did so. “I've put some coffee on for you, and some tea for myself,” she said with a smile, breaking the silence before she leaned back, relaxing into the couch. Her entire body visibly shifted, her clothes hanging just a bit looser, her posture less poised and straight, though it was implied that she could return to that measured state with ease. “I think you have much potential Spindle, I like the name by the way,” she said, glancing at her with a small smile before she continued, her eyes shifting away so that the intensity of her gaze laid elsewhere. “If you wouldn't mind, I'd love to help you foster that. If you're ever in need of help or want to stir things up or pull off a bigger job, I could be the one to come along. Ensure that things go smoothly you see.” She glanced at her, the look sidelong, as her head shifted only slightly, “Would that be alright?”

She paused and after a moment passed and after a brief time of silence the coffee pot dinged, notifying them that the brew was ready. Adumbrate straightened up a bit, stretching briefly, before giving Spindle a disarming smile. If she hadn't replied yet she'd speak once more, “Take your time, put some thought to it, I'm going to get your coffee and steep my tea.” With that she rose to her feet and exited the room. After a minute or so, giving Spindle time to think, she walked back in, a mug in each hand, one white, the other a forest green. She rounded the couch, handing Spindle her drink before she sat down and set her own down on a small table next to her. With that, she let silence ring out and once her tea had cooled some, she began drinking it, slow, dragging the process out. She wasn't leaving till Spindle gave some kind of response, and if she did have to, well it was a good thing she kept a disposable phone.

Lisa watched the woman go, relaxing a bit when she left the room. She took the opportunity to look over the room, a measured gaze taking in all she could. It didn’t seem like there were surveillance devices hidden anywhere, but it was at best a guess. Lisa definitely didn’t feel like her perceptions had been enhanced, and this was helping emphasizing that. She sat back down after a few seconds, and didn’t have to wait too long before Adumbrate entered the room again. She told Lisa that the coffee was brewing, along with some tea, and Lisa smiled thankfully. The woman sat on the opposite side of the couch, her body language shifting slightly, and the distance helped her guest relax.

The black haired woman spoke of potential, before complimenting Lisa, and the gesture brought another appreciative smile to her guest’s lips. The host continued, telling Lisa that she could offer assistance if needed. It came together quickly, and Lisa had to admit that the idea was quite appealing. She could do a lot, but her power was limited in certain ways. She asked if that would be alright, and Lisa paused before speaking.

”I think that’s an absolutely wonderful idea, though. . .” Lisa trailed off, thinking for a second ”I feel as if there is something missing, honestly. I’ve never done this before, but how are we supposed to trust each other having just met? You seem quite reasonable, so I'm sure you can understand my uncertainty.” The word uncertainty was interrupted by the coffee pot signifying that a pot had been brewed.

Adumbrate left to retrieve the coffee and tea, and returned with two mugs. Lisa took the white mug gratefully, enjoying the relaxing warmth it provided. She didn’t even try to drink it, knowing it would be far too hot. Her body language would have conveyed someone who was perfectly comfortable if her eyes didn't betray her. Her gaze wasn't quite steady, instead moving constantly, only resting on Adumbrate when she was speaking or being spoken to. She was interested in how Adumbrate would respond, and was kind of worried that her host would not take the question politely.