Upon arriving at the building where the rest of Artificer's and Kyoshi's team were, Celia slipped off of the fly gracefully. As her feet touched the ground she examined the group before her. G4M3R, Furnace, Artificer, Kyoshi, and herself. Quite the crew, though she admittedly didn't know the specifics of three of their powers. Furnace stared off at the creature as Celia had, but his attention shifted once he noticed Celia and Artificer. She paused for a bit at his question, considering it. It was an odd question to ask of an equal, at least her research suggested that, but maybe she was mistaken. She paused for another beat, before speaking very quietly. "I'm fine, No need." She paused again, before continuing, "Nice to meet you Furnace."

Kyoshi asked if she was getting the group good PR, and Celia smiled at the surreal nature of the question. As Kyoshi finished speaking a man appeared next to the android, wearing an outfit normally reserved for riot control agents, but with slight alterations. She eyed him suspiciously as a web search turned up who he was. As the lettering on the chest piece said, his cape name was Jaunt, a relatively new addition to the Denver cape scene. Celia didn't flinch, though she probably should have if she wanted to seem more human. Instead there was no reaction, unlike Artificer who almost fell off the fly. He sputtered out a question at Jaunt. Celia glanced at the lettering on Jaunt chest before glancing back to Artificer. It literally said his name.

After another beat Celia asked Jaunt a question that she assumed most of them were wondering. "What is your business here Jaunt? I don't know if you noticed, but you're a little late to the party." She spoke at a normal volume, loud enough to notice that she had almost no inflection. Her voice was completely unchanged throughout the sentence.

As Sonika flew higher and higher into the sky she could only feel relief that fate was in her favor. There were few parahumans who could so effectively defy her powers and Denver had Furnace to do so. Had he been a vengeful criminal she would've been unable to get away. Morality was a great defense if you didn't have it, after all. The whole encounter was an important lesson that would not be lost on Sonika. She felt she had a decent understanding of Furnace's power, at the cost of him gaining a decent understanding of her own. He wasn't a PRT hero so hopefully he wouldn't share his notes but it would be futile to hedge her bets on that. Rather she would focus on being prepared for future encounters against him. She would need to keep a weapon and hostages, at the least. But perhaps further analysis could find a weak point for guaranteeing a decisive attack...

Her thoughts were interrupted as she felt something approaching her from below. It was something large and unfamiliar, so much so that she couldn't hold her curiosity and turned to face the disturbance. Her eyes widened, a mixture of confusion and shock. A large, alien-like monster was soaring through the sky after her. It was far larger than any human so surely it couldn't be the result of a Shifter power. It couldn't be an illusion either, as it occupied space and a lot of it. A new Endbringer was Sonika's immediate conclusion, but if that were true it surely wouldn't be coming to chase her and ignore the collection of parahumans on the ground below. Endbringers had a pension for destruction, after all. The most likely possibility returned to the creature being of parahuman origin, but the mechanics of it were surely far too complex to dwell upon. Not when it was gaining on Sonika at her current speed.

An executive decision was made. The Russian supervillain turned her gaze forward again and tensed up, holding her breath as she removed the air around her to create a pocket vacuum. Then she began moving this pocket with her inside it, flying in a different manner than before and to much greater effect. Sure, if she went too fast she would be more likely to pop up on radar with the guaranteed detection at the moment she breaks the sound barrier. But right now she was going pretty slow so she had a bit of wiggle room. Any gain that Outsider was making was quickly made futile as Sonika rocketed forward at a far greater acceleration than before. It was always difficult for her to ascertain her exact speed but once she ceased accelerating and kept a steady speed she figured she was going somewhere a bit over three hundred miles-per-hour. This would be pushing the limit on her detection, though she hoped that by flying straight up it would somewhat combat the likelihood of air traffic control noticing. She had to relent on giving away another detail of her powers, that she was capable of speeds beyond land vehicles, but it was a small price to avoid potentially being eaten.

She made sure to continue her ascent at a slight angle, aiming for a nearby cloud. If the monster thing was either persistent or capable of accelerating further, she figured it would be a good opportunity to attempt to lose it. It would also serve to break the line of sight with any potential spectators with advanced optics capable of seeing her at range. After flying through the cloud all she would have to do is loop around to the farthest side of it and then decelerate for a slower descent. Already she was calculating the route she would have to take to get back to her warehouse while avoiding unwanted attention. The conclusion was to fly directly over the warehouse from far above and then descend from there. Her costume, while bright and noticeable on the ground, served as a perfect camouflage in the air. Any ground-level pedestrians looking up would have a hard time spotting her and this would work to her advantage of her stealthy getaway. Ideally there would be no pedestrians near the warehouse, if her goons were doing their job, so Sonika gave them the benefit of the doubt and decided to avoid any precautions on that front in the interest of time.

After all there was a dangerous escaped product to recover.



Up until this point Macavity had been quite friendly and accommodating of Cassidy, but it seemed that there was a caveat to their present relationship that Cassidy had yet to realize. His rant didn't exactly come across as angry or aggressive, but instead seemed as if he was letting off stress. It didn't occur to the girl that his efforts so far had come at great personal risk. If what he said was true about the people who kidnapped her, the Bratva, then he really would be in danger just for staying near her long enough. Hell, anyone would be in danger. He said that she knew something important about this Bratva but Cassidy could only really remember what the warehouse looked like and what they did. She had a guess at its location but she wasn't really sure if she could track it down on her own. Was she really that much of a threat to these people just for escaping their clutches?

She had been selfish so far, thinking only of herself. Not that she was wrong to do so but it only now dawned on her the true consequences of her actions. These people truly were bad guys. It wasn't some Hollywood movie kind of gangsters but real criminals with real influence and a real agenda. It was a fight they started with her but she has gone and pissed them off. Going to the PRT didn't sit well with her, though she could understand why it would sit even less well with Macavity yet he seemed to believe it was the safest bet. Cassidy kept her silence as she took one of the packaged food things that he held, briefly examining it as she pondered on the choices presented to her. If the cops couldn't be trusted and she'd be a serious liability to anyone else, going to the PRT truly was the only feasible choice.

"Cassidy," she finally spoke up, answering his earlier question about her name. "That's my name. Cassidy Hendricks. I don't have any superhero nicknames or anything..." She popped open the food pouch, finding no surprise in the contents not appearing to be particularly appealing. But food was food. The sandwich and muffin earlier were just good holdovers and she wasn't about to be picky now. "Sorry..." To avoid further awkward conversation she began eating the MRE with haste. She hardly registered the flavors, whether it was from hunger or the food itself having none would be worthy of debate. But after she finished scarfing down her meal she let out a long, exasperated sigh. "Okay, I guess I should go to the PRT..." The girl got up off the bed, standing up on her feet next to it.

"I don't like it, but maybe I can ask them about giving me an-... anon-... anonymity or something. Then I can..." His words about her life having been over immediately came to mind. She could plead all she wanted but she couldn't get her family back, she wouldn't be able to shake the knowledge of her parahuman powers, nor would she be able to follow her dreams of playing in the Olympics. She would have to make some decisions on what to do with her life after going to the PRT and there weren't any she could think of that would be ideal. Even if they agreed to keep her anonymous from the public, she'd still be put in a government database to be kept track of as a superhuman. Cassidy frowned, grumbled, and crossed her arms. If only I could just make these Bratva people go away without going to the PRT. Then I could maybe start a new life. A new school. Another shot at running. Nobody would know who I am or what I can do... she thought to herself.

Then an idea struck her. Not a great idea or a particularly enticing one, but a potential solution to all her problems. "No," she said aloud, her tone deadly serious. It wouldn't take Macavity much effort to guess that she had rescinded her opinion on going to the PRT. The girl turned to face him, her arms still crossed and a frown still on her face. "You said that you took advantage of your powers to get what you wanted, right? Well I think I'm going to do the same." She uncrossed her arms to point at herself with her right thumb. "My old life is over. I can't get what I want any other way. I'm going to fight these bad guys and I won't be going to anyone so they can keep track of me. It'll be a bit underhanded but I've already lost enough. I want to keep something and I'm gonna keep my dreams. I'm gonna go to a new school and get a new life and pretend none of this ever happened. But first I'm going to beat these assholes who ruined my life in the first place!"

She progressively grew more heated and loud as she gave her speech, practically yelling by the end of it. Thankfully she realized her own volume and toned down, for the sake of Macavity's hearing in a fairly enclosed area. Evidently she had enough energy now. "I get it, you want me out of your hair so you don't get killed. But I'm gonna have to ask a favor of you before I go, Macavity." She closed her eyes and thought about something for a brief moment. When she opened her eyes again she continued. "I'm gonna need you to get me a costume. I never wanted to use my powers for anything but if this is the only way then I'm going to do it right. Nobody will know about Cassidy Hendricks or that she's a parahuman freak. From this moment forward, Cassidy has no powers or anything wrong with her. No Bratva chasing her, no bounty on her head, none of it. Instead, I'm now gonna be..."

"Chrona."

Cassidy paused, mainly to catch her breath but also to let Macavity take in what she was ranting on about. "I'm gonna trust you to keep your lips sealed about my name," she spoke up again, in a much calmer manner than before. "But..." The young girl fell backwards onto the bed, making no effort to return to her feet. "I'll start tomorrow..."

---

They found a new place. It was a house that Wisp was pretty sure was inhabited, yet there was no sign of the inhabitants. It was further out from the city, in a calmer section squeezed together with other buildings, a fairly long walk from the city center. The contents were couches, beds, an old TV, a refrigerator… Someone clearly had lived here, yet the dust told of a place that had been abandoned. Had someone died? Would someone one day return? Perhaps. They’d surely need to get a new place pretty soon, if for no other reason than that there were no active alarms on the place. But, this would do for now, since it had electricity. They took a few trips back and forth under Wisp’s shroud to get some of Speedrunner’s “necessities”.

‘Don’t take off your cape-outfit for at least a week, just in case they return. Only exception is washing it.’ Sheila told her sister, breathing out as she could finally relax in a dust-filled couch. Both were in their cape-outfits, meaning Sheila was in white body-pants with no shoes and only thick socks, tight white jumper with a hood as well as red laser-goggles. Viola wore a purple full-body tight cycling suit with white details, as well as purple laser goggles and a purple cycling-helmet on her short blonde hair, going with her purple Speedrunner theme. It was really late now, the night approaching.

‘Right, right.’ Viola responded, also sitting down, tired from having been moving all of a sudden. Then, she finally found the time to ask. ‘Who were they?’ Viola asked, looking intently at her sister through the laser-goggles. Sheila took a moment, hesitating due wanting to shield Viola from that information, but ultimately reasoned they were in this together.

‘The Rockers.’ Sheila told in a quiet tone. ‘They were there to recruit me. They showed no signs of knowing about you.’

‘Hah. Of all people to find us… Think Shatterpoint can see you?’ Viola, who was more active on PHO than Sheila, immediately asked.

‘Maybe. Regardless, we need to be more careful leaving the building from now on.’ Sheila stated.

‘So, what did you tell them? Did you threaten them off?’ Viola asked, envisioning her sister’s less than positive answer…

‘… I told them I’d consider it and contact them later, and that they were to leave immediately. I needed them to think they were successful to avoid ending in a confrontation right outside our home.’ Sheila explained, but this was a tough situation. ‘I need to find out how they found us. I’ll meet with them, see if I can find out.’

‘Heh. Okay. What will you tell them when they ask you to join them?’ Viola asked, testing out her sister’s plan. Sheila was silent, considering.

‘… I might play along, to keep them off our backs. I could find a good time to betray them, perhaps call in the Protectorate. As long as the jobs aren’t openly villainous and I make them not announce my participation, it could gain some benefits. I’ll give them a set of terms.’ Sheila sighed.

Viola recoiled a bit from her words, staring at her sister in alarm. ‘He-hey, sis. That’s dangerous. Cooperating with villains, even with that purpose in mind…’ Sheila looked at her, sensing her sister’s fears…

‘Don’t worry. In the worst case scenario, I’ll simply kill them. I’m a Stranger with a knife. I can do that.’ She felt a bit numb saying so, but… she could, and they were being cornered, so it felt reasonable. However, this statement just appeared to cause Viola to be even more frightened. Sheila, growing tired of this conversation as she saw it wasn’t going well, stood up to leave.

‘I’m going. I need to find their headquarters. Do not leave until I come back. Flee if you’re tracked down. Whatever you do, do not call the Protectorate. I’ll do that myself when the time is right. That’s all.’ So Sheila said, before her shroud of light promptly cloaked her, removing her from sight as she moved out.

Viola was left on her own, sitting with what Sheila had just said on her mind. Sure, what Sheila had in mind had its advantages, but it meant becoming a real villain. If she did jobs for the Rockers, she’d become a villain. If she decided to kill them, she’d become a villain. Regardless, this job would taint her, and that was even without the chance of failure and all its consequences taken into account.

… Sorry, sis, not going to let you get yourself into a situation you can no longer get yourself out of.

Though, Viola wasn’t willing to move out herself. Too dangerous, and she wasn’t confident in her experience. However, her mind drifted to the one hero whose videos she’d watched in the past and secretly admired. G4M3R. He was a member of the Minutemen, as he told over the stream. They offered heroic services, asking for donations in order to remain functioning. While Sheila had detailed not to call the Protectorate… but that didn’t mean anything if she was calling the Minutemen, right~? Viola was somewhat desperate, so any loopholes she could find were alright in her book…!

Viola will call the Minutemen number at an unspecified late time an unspecified day. Late because it happened to be this late when Viola learned of Sheila’s plan. The reached Minuteman is free to simply answer when ready for it.

---

It was early night, a girl wandering cloaked by her power in the dark streets. Wisp’s next job was clear. Find the Rockers. Hopefully, it wouldn’t be too hard. They’d got to have some kind of territory. If they did, Wisp had examined its location on her and Viola’s computer earlier before finally getting going. If they didn’t, she’d have looked for their most common appearances and seek there. They used pickaxes and this fairly recognizable theme, they shouldn’t be that hard to pinpoint places where they were common from the PHO. Any known locations, Wisp would seek out buildings where they’re known to stay, all while moving invisible in the street, dodging like dancing soundlessly from any passersby that came wandering in the night, searching Denver at a more laid-back hour…

The sun dipped below the Rocky Mountains; shops closed, people took the rush hour highways home. Wherever that was to them. Though villians, heroes and normies all called Colorado home, there seemed to be no urgency. People went on like whole countries wouldn't cease to exist on the whims of some demigod like abominations. What did life mean to them? "I for one won't stand idly by, I will make a difference no matter how small."
As I walk through the downtown streets, I see shady figures darting into alleys. Drug peddlers giving samples of their product. Prostitutes being payed so their STD ridden pimps can afford another shot of heroine. The disorder, chaos and pure evil I see all around myself only emboldens me to do something about it. These newfound powers of mine will surely be tested.
I continue walking and I notice a poor woman no older than 19 being manhandled by five thugs. She is a brunette with long hair and good proportions. Unfortunate for her. She would be better off average and alive rather than beautiful and sold into slavery. She resists,but they are quickly overwhelming her laughing as they shove her. I cross the street and make my way towards them. As I approach one of the men notices me and yells,"You tryin' to pick a fight with us?!" He pulls out a knife and waves it threateningly. Not wearing my "costume" only a Kevlar jacket I decide that fighting may not be the best option. I reply to him,"Wouldn't you fellas like to go out for some drinks instead of ruining a pretty girl's night? No money you may say? Don't worry first shot's on me." I say grinning. The man is startled at my boldness and his other "homies" turn to look. One of them is now holding the girl by the arms. She looks terrified.
"We'd rather have both," another says, with a particularly large scar that stretches from his left ear all the way to his eye. The other men laugh at his attempt at humor. He continues,"How much you got on ya?"
Now's the time to test these abilities. I focus long and hard at the knife thug and try to impart the thought,"He seems alright, I should give the girl to him and turn myself into the cops for the many crimes I've committed." After a brief pause he gets a look of bewilderment on his face and then shakes it off. "That was weird," he says aloud. He starts moving towards me knife in hand. That didn't go the way I'd hoped. I still have some work to do..
I wait a moment completely still, as he is the first to reach me. Then I implant in him,"I'll stab him in the throat, the bloodier the better."He smiles maniacally. In anticipation of his stab to my throat, I duck below. The knife sails over my head and I immediately straight punch his groin. Before he has time to react I stand back up, disarm and trip him in one fluid motion. As he falls to the ground I stomp his head in. The other three continue to advance though they seem much more hesitant now. The fourth still holds on to the girl. She looks like she had just seen her knight in kevlar armor. Not wanting to disappoint, I assume a defensive stance with the knife in hand. I attempt to impart in them feelings of terror. It seems to work on some of them. Two stop advancing and the other turns his head confused by their actions. Now's my chance. I rush him with the knife, but rather than shank him I simply bring the handle down hard on his head. He falls over unconscious. The two who stopped moving put their hands up and book it out of there to the nearest alley.
"That is expected of rats," I think to myself. The final thug lets the girl go and follows his group down the alleyway. There's not much loyalty with these ones. I take my phone out and dial the cops. After explaining the situation I turn toward the girl and hang up. She is scared to say the least, but her eyes have the fire of hope in them.
"It's going to be alright," I reassure her,"If you come with me I can take you somewhere safe." I extend my hand and she takes it gratefully. I then lead her towards a more tame part of town. Over the course of our travel I learn her name is Alexis and she was just getting off work when she was harassed. She points me towards her apartment and when we arrive she thanks me. She writes down on a piece of paper her number and hands it to me. I smile and take the paper. I have no real intention of calling her, but being polite goes a long way.. or so I've heard. I wave her goodbye and head back into the night, invigorated by my newfound powers. Where else am I needed?

Macavity was feeling rather exhausted after his little rant, it has only been a short time with this girl but for some reason caring for other people sure takes a lot out of your day. He had forgotten about the trouble of talking to people on an actual personal level, he hasn't really looked back after his first heist and stopping now just stockpiled all his baggage at once on himself. Macavity sighed aloud, dropping the MREs onto a nearby nightstand as he started to rub his temples. He had no idea how people can live such an exhausting life, stealing was second nature to himself, but having people depend on you is something totally foreign to the rather easy going master criminal. Still, even he knew that his little rant may have been a bit harsh to some little girl who had just lost her parents from organized crime. He wouldn't be too surprised if she decided to leave, in all honestly her leaving would probably allow him to get back to his regular groove than stressing out over other people. He was just about to lean his head towards the ceiling and close his eyes before the little girl managed to say something that got back his attention from the rather awkward situation he had put himself inside of his uncontrolled outburst.

"Cassidy? Huh. You looked more like a Cassandra to me, but I guess everything hasn't been going my way during this time," Macavity quipped, looking back at the girl scarfing down the food just like in the alleyway. Ever since he had gotten these powers, his emotions were kind of all over the place when talking to people, his urges started to grow more and his emotions were becoming as fickle as his need for some object or another in his line of sight. "Look, it wasn't my first idea to give you to those goody two-shoe heroes but I honestly can't think of much in such a short time," Macavity said, "It won't be too bad living with them anyway kid, I mean Cassidy, but look at it this... What?" Macavity soon heard a firm deconformation from Cassidy, he looked bewildered for a short second before moving himself to the edge of his seat with a skeptical face as she further discussed her plan with the thief.

"Cassidy! I know I used my powers for my own gain but baby steps girl! I didn't start off my first heist at Fort Knox, well I mean I did rob it blind later, but that was when I was ready to take on such a task. I know you're angry at these people, but throwing your life away isn't one thing anyone would want, start small first and build your accomplishments to the top rather than jump into the abyss with no help at all." This was something new to Macavity, even though she was throwing away his plan to the air and deciding to go some sort of vigilante route, he honestly felt pride as she stood up with such a impressive demeanor against the safe plan. He had forgotten people could be so determined, he had forgotten about how he used to feel that way in his old life, and right at that moment Macavity remembered that there was more to other people rather than just himself all alone in his little stockpile of money. As he looked back at Cassidy, she was fast asleep in his bed probably exhausted from everything she had experienced in the time she had spent in this strange city. "Well... Chrona, I may think you as some sort of crazy son of a bitch, but I can't say I could leave you as an unequipped loon out for revenge," Macavity cracked his knuckles with a big smile on his face, his head flourished with tons of ideas of places and equipment to steal to make the best costume in this city. It was his time to shine with his power and skills, these people probably wouldn't mind missing stuff as it would all be going to a certain hero to protect the streets against thugs.

Hours passed along as Cassidy was fast asleep on the luxurious bed, Macavity hitting up his other safe houses for extra materials and choice factories to steal just a tiny bit of some important materials. He didn't sleep that day, carefully covering his steps and presence with his powers as he walked all around the city. Most of the stuff he had brought along were stolen items from his past adventures collected from their dusty standstills as displays for his many stands in other areas. Others were top of the line fashion designs carefully downloaded or plucked from the folders of famous designers. In the end Macavity had a sizable collection of materials for costume design, all he had to do was wait for Cassidy to try to choose and decide the style that she wanted in her costume. He also brought along some to-go breakfast diner food for someone that would find themselves wanting a nice and hearty breakfast in the morning. Also he had on himself some of the top of the line materials on him as well, such as lightweight and sturdy material which would provide a sturdy defense against most physical attacks and more normal fabric to go over the defensive material. It was a good thing that Macavity himself had experience in tailoring as the suits he was wearing were made by him, but using this kind of material is above his level in which he could only hope that he could make a good costume to protect Chrona during fights.

The morning came somewhere between too soon or too late, and Zach had trouble deciding which one during his shower. He could remember so well what showers used to be, and despite their modest livings at least his family always had hot water. If Zach spent more than five minutes in the shower, the water would turn to an icy blast. That might be the part I'm missing the most these days. He finished washing himself, and turned the knobs till the water stopped. He stepped out of the shower, the ankle bracelet catching his eye. He was more than a little thankful it was waterproof.

A few minutes passed before Zach exited the bathroom fully clothed, with a comb in hand. He styled his hair to the best of his abilities, just up to the point where he looked kempt. He caught the same bus everyday, and today was no different. He rode next to a nice old lady, who was only considered nice because she was completely silent. He got off the bus after about twenty minutes and walked into the diner.

Nonchalant, or his best attempt, drew little attention fortunately. Zach walked straight past the counter, and into the employees area. His eyes met those of a tall red-headed man who was cleaning the stove. His name was Alex, and he had been the man to interview Zach for the job. The owner of the store, Radha, also handled HR, but he didn't enjoy hiring people. Alex was in his late thirties, a father of two who had never graduated high school. A month after Zach started working there Alex came into work very happy that he had passed the GED, and was now planning on attending college night classes. Zach could only say congratulations so many ways. The young man kept walking, taking a second to clock in before he put on his apron. People filtered in throughout the day, lunch and dinner being the hectic exceptions.

Through it all Zach zoned out and washed dishes, used to the routine he faced. By the end his hands would be aching, and glowing red. For a few seconds, as he exited the diner at the end of his shift, steam rose off of his hands. He slipped his hand into the pockets of his hoodie. A couple steps and Zach was headed home, another day done. Tomorrow he would have to look for another job, but for today he could just sleep. There was also the matter of contacting Arsenal, of course.

As the sun sank over the horizon, Zach heard some commotion off on some side street, and curiosity got the better of caution. He slowly walked down the dank alley, ignoring the homeless man next to a dumpster, for the sounds of combat. Zach always missed the forest for the trees. Before he could round the corner, two younger men ran around it, heading the opposite direction and fast. They caught Zach's attention for a few seconds before he leaned around the corner to see what had sent them on their way. As he leaned around the corner a third thug ran past him, almost colliding with the young 'hero.' Zach ignored this one, focusing on the two conscious people who the men had been running from. He didn't recognize either the woman, or the man beside her.

The man, a decently sized guy with dark brown hair cut short, was in the midst of calling the police. Zach cautiously watched, only the top of his head visible, before following the two of them as they started to leave the scene. He was a good guy, it would seem, but not good enough to give a statement to the police. Good to know. Zach made the executive decision to tail the man as best he could, hoping he could learn more about this morally ambiguous Samaritan.

The man and woman walked with lots of idle chatter, though Zach decided not to eavesdrop. The walk took a while, and more than once Zach considered giving up, but the couple arrived before he could. The man walked the woman to the door of what seemed to be her apartment, and Zach had the best idea. He had seen a lot of movies where the protagonist walked the girl to the door, and when the guy went to leave he was confronted by someone he didn't hear approach. Zach tried his best to replicate that, leaning against a street light and staring at the man with a look of guarded interest. Once their eyes met, which they hopefully would, Zach would say, "So, how'd you take them out?" In his best dramatic voice. Absolutely heroic-Well at least Zach thought so.

Somewhat surprised at the sudden inquiry, I stop and raise an eyebrow replying,"Listen man, whatever you think you've seen, it would be best if you kept it to yourself."This guy could turn me in, though he probably would have done that already. Vigilantism is frowned upon here and I don't need to make enemies this early on. I then impart the thought in him,"I should just forget what happened and head home."

Sofia winced at the screams of tearing metal and the sound of gunfire. Job done. At least that's probably what all that noise meant. Now she just had to carefully retrace her steps. 1... 2... 3... Sofia hurriedly moved through the field of battle until she returned to her original location, behind the car where Chatterhead was. Hopefully no one was following her with everybody else distracting them. Sofia opened her eyes to see Arsenal's finger guns firing a hail of bullets. Wow he liked guns so much he'd turned himself into a gun. Sofia turned away from the obviously rather preoccupied literal gunman to Chatterhead. "What now? I can make you ignore stuff so you don't get hurt trying to talk to them." Sofia said, practically shouting to make sure he could hear her, though the noise was somewhat amusing as it was barely audible despite her best attempts, like she didn't even know how to be loud. Technically she could probably sit the rest of this one out as she'd done the important thing but Sofia wanted to feel like she was helping and Chatterhead didn't seem to have much protection of his own so trying to get people to listen to him with all this gunfire was likely to just get him shot and that would kinda put a hole in their plans. And probably Chatterhead. Neither of which were good things to have holes in.

Alessa couldn't help but feel everyone's bad mood as she spoke. Elliot and Ira both seemed a bit put off by her as she spoke- and who could blame them, she realised, when she was talking like a business leader rather than a friend?- Tulpa was clearly brooding, and Dean's muttered insult toward Elliot hardly passed her by. A meaningful glance was shot at him, ideally as a reminder of his new position, before she took a deep breath, trying to put herself back into the more emotional state she and her companions would rather she be in.

'I'm, uh, sorry if I'm being a bit formal, at the moment, guys,' she offered, smiling as best she could. 'I think everyone's still trying to process... th-this wasn't anybody's fault, alright? We were blindsided, and I don't think any of us could have predicted what happened...'

And then a wave of emotion hit her like a punch to the heart, and she keeled forward a little bit as her face twisted and tears threatened to flood her eyes, the weight of the day's events reaching her all over again. That, she figured through the emotion, was probably why she was trying to remain formal. For a moment, all she could utter was 'Oh God' through her hands at the surge of horror. Collin was practically dead. For all the good it did, he was dead. Was this the after-effect of shock? She didn't know, she wasn't medically trained. Maybe if she was, maybe if...

'I-I'm sorry,' she got out, sitting up straight again and blinking back the tears. 'I'm okay. I'm okay.'

She was not okay. Her vision blurred all over again.

'I'm not okay. None of this is okay. I shouldn't be in this chair, I sh-should be next to him, I- I shouldn't- I shouldn't-'

Alessa forced herself to hunch over and gulp down air just to stop herself from breaking down entirely. The half-sobs degraded into mere shuddering breaths, and she closed her eyes to breathe more deeply, to compose herself, to make sure she could continue without further upsetting anybody else. That would simply be too much, if she was responsible for somebody else's collapse into as much of a mess as she felt.

'...yeah. Yeah, that... yeah,' she stated, wiping her eyes and trying not to break down again, trying and failing to keep her voice level. 'Alright, let's, um... as-as Dean said, Elliot could potentially hold anything we're not using, particularly Ira's gadgets... uh, Ira-' She gestured toward the sixteen-year-old. 'I'll be happy t-to compare and contrast, if you could s-set everything up... please...' Having said that, Alessa created a thin beam of red light from her finger, about the brightness of a laser pointer, and certainly not powerful enough to damage anything, though as with the usual warnings she aimed it down at the table rather than towards anyone's face.

---

Well, that went swimmingly. Who knew shooting out the engines of vehicles moving at 60 or 70 miles an hour could cause a major traffic incident? Apparently, nobody in the Jacks, himself included, and what a fool he was to forget that that could be an option. At least for the time being, however, no Capes had emerged from the wrecked vehicles. But, that aside, it was time to move downhill. He put the safety back on the IWS, reholstered it in the sheath on his back, and began his slide down the hill to his M16. Once there, he grabbed the weapon, returned to a suitable firing position, and scoped in, the world going silent again as he did so.

Arsenal is giving large quantities of cover fire. Love Craft is tanking a lot of hits. Sofia has moved back over to Chatterbox. Good thing about perfect aim: no possibility of taking a lethal shot with regular bullets.

Possible options: man in open, man behind median. Two men in cover, will target them in a moment. Target man behind median first. Best option to disable firing ability: elbow, right arm. Clip the bones and ligaments in that area, fracture bones and tear ligaments without damaging major blood vessels, avoid hitting center of mass. Shoot.

Next, man in open. Again, target the elbow of the right arm. Clip bones and ligaments, fracture bones and destroy ligaments without major blood vessel damage, avoid center of mass. Shoot.

And at this point, a second after firing the second shot from his weapon, he scoped out to regain hearing and glance around, just to make sure nobody was nearby. Besides, attempting to target the men in cover immediately would likely produce suboptimal results, namely possible bone damage and a bullet that would take at least a minute to strike. He'd wait until they were out of cover before disabling their firing ability. As for the other two, well, every trained person knew not to fire a gun one-handed, especially not an automatic weapon.

A slight smile flicked across Zach's lips, as he held eye contact, trying his best to control the encounter. He let the man speak, and considered the words for a second before opening his mouth to respond. I should just forget what happened and head home. The thought was alien, yet tempting. He closed his mouth, seeming confused for a second before shaking his head. I already went through all the effort to follow him, leaving now would just be strange. Besides I really want to know how he took down two people and made three others flee. He might be a parahuman.

He opened his mouth again, seemingly not convinced. "You incapacitated two men without taking any hits, and made three more flee. I'm going to ask again, how did you do it? Think this through: I saw what you did, at least partially, and I decided to follow you. I'm either brazen and stupid, or I know something you don't, Just tell me what I want to know." The unvoiced third option was also present, that Zach was brazen, stupid, yet still knew at least one thing that the man in front of him didn't. It was also the most likely option.

At Alessa's breakdown Ira lowered her eyes, holding back her own tears. She had made sure to distract herself specifically to avoid another sobbing fit. She shook her head, keeping her eyes on her feet as she lowered herself into her chair. Each word spoken between their leader's labored gasps was like a punch to the gut. After Ira suggested her idea, in her normal barely loud enough voice, Alessa complied. With focus, Ira could ignore the tragedy, and move forward. She stood up, turning the briefcase around, and pressing a small button on it. The LED display lit up with three 9's which flashed at regular intervals. She pressed the button again, and an engine began whirring to life inside the machine. At first the humming was inconsistent, with slight pauses, before becoming steady. The lit 9's continued flashing, not counting down.

She pressed the button a third time, and the numbers resolved themselves into a solid display, slowly counting down from 100 as opposed to what seemed to be the maximum of 999. At the same time as the third press, an uneasy presence filled the room for a second. Everyone, excluding Ira, felt themselves completely disconnect from their power. Where before there had been a red light on the table, now there was nothing at all. This would almost certainly be the first time since any present triggered that they lost contact with that almost-human vestige that accompanied their power. "This briefcase can completely nullify someone's powers. I'm not quite sure the range, or a lot else, but I know it doesn't affect me. My power seems to suggest that it doesn't affect tinkers in general." Ira explained hesitantly, saying each word very carefully. She paused before pressing the button again, turning off the device. As before, a presence seemed to fill the room, followed by all feeling access to their power return.

"On the next mission Elliot could try turning it into a toy with his power, and try activating it at that point. It's not hard, you just have to press the button thrice." She winced as the word thrice left her lips, feeling as if she had been influenced by Elliot's strange way of speaking. Ira looked around the table expectantly, waiting for a reaction to what she saw as her first very useful invention as a tinker.

---

Waiting...waiting...waiting...boom. It was practically theatrical and while it hadn't gone as smoothly as he thought--which in retrospect made perfect sense--things did eventually turn out. Though, hopefully Gamble was unharmed, that was the only thing he was worried about. He waited as the cars rolled, taking in deep breaths and getting a bit of adrenaline pumping, Chatterbox considered what his next course of action was to be.

He glanced out of cover, then ducked back in as soldiers finally crawled from the convoy's downed vehicles and open fired. Almost immediately Arsenal laid down covering fire and Headhunter took out at least two of their men. It was loud, he really hadn't expected it to be this loud, but he'd have to make due somehow. Then Sofia was next to him, yelling something. He paid her more mind and caught the important part of her words. She could protect him from fire, probably let him get close. He opened his mouth and yelled back, "Can I trust that your power will keep me safe while I get almost on top of them?!" Then he awaited her answer. Hopefully it was yes, because if so it meant he could devote time to specifically 'talking down' each soldier--and there weren't that many. This would allow him to first make them less accurate, then make them lower their weapons, then finally listen to his commands which would make it much easier for them to handle the capes--wherever they were--and take Gamble.

If she couldn't get him that close, well, it would just mean that he'd be yelling quite a bit. Man he wished his power worked through megaphones....

---

---

She didn't even acknowledge Dean's suggestion, though she internally admitted that it was pretty smart--though tinkertech could be finicky. Hopefully toyifying such things wouldn't ruin any of the parts. She almost spoke up regarding this, but instead decided she'd say something in bit.

While so far she'd been pretty disinterested, or at least detached, from the meeting, she couldn't help but perk up when Ira mentioned she'd made something. Her gaze being drawn to the table, she felt her projection shift into the table itself--hidden from her teammates--before she continued the action her subconscious had elicited, and had it poke an ethereal tendril into the device. Immediately her head spun and she caught herself on the table, withdrawing the tendril. She had gotten materials, but there was so much more than that weaved into Ira's creation that it made her head spin.

Perhaps she could convince the tinker to make something really really simple in function one day so she could adjust to 'reading' its data with her projection. Recovering swiftly she suddenly heard Messiah speak, her voice full of emotion. She looked at her teammate and her eyes widened slightly, tears forming as they did.

She stood up abruptly as they breakdown began, and almost walked across the room to comfort Messia--no, Alessa. There was a pit in her stomach and emotions rolling around within it. She was empty, but also too full. The anger had helped drain away the intensity of the emotions, which was why she could hold it together, but the feelings were still definitely there.

She sat back down...too unsure of herself, her place in the team, and what was appropriate to go and hug Alessa. She watched the demonstration, or well...was affected by it. When she felt her projection vanish completely, or rather felt its sudden absence. It was like a part of her was gone and it made her clutch at the table, her breathing accelerating a little bit. She hadn't realized how much of her attention the projection took or how her powers really affected her until they were gone.

Then they returned and all at once she felt more or less at ease again, a sense of relief washing over her. Of course, immediately after she remembered what had happened mere hours ago and she swallowed hard. "Ugh," she uttered before an idea struck her, eyes lighting up for the first time since she'd seen Sonar unconscious on the street. "Ira, you're a genius!" she began, sounding a bit breathless from excitement. "Guys...we, we can help him with this...or um, maybe something like it," she continued, looking around the room. However, before she started the next bit of her sentence she swallowed hard, building up the courage necessary to say the next bit. "Ira, we can make something that at least lets him live. Something that keeps him sane. I..." she stopped, suddenly choked up. There was such a strong sense of relief that had hit her that the pit of anger and brooding hatred at the unfairness of the world had actually disappeared for the most part. However, with its disappearance came the grief, and while the relief helped with that, the emotion coupled with a bit of joy at the prospect that they could help Sonar caused tears to roll down her cheeks even while she smiled.

They could do something for him. That was really all she needed.

---

---

Pursuing the criminal wasn't strenuous, not even vaguely difficult, it was a breeze in fact. Or, it had been until the woman looked back at him and then blasted off to motherfucking infinity and beyond. He grumbled, though the sound came out hollow and resonant, more like an unearthly growl than a human noise of frustration. His pace slowed as she drew further away. He could chase her, but it wasn't worth it. Of course, if he saw her again things would be different. He had her bio-signature now. If he was in his second vessel and she was around, he'd know pretty damned quick.

Turning in the air, his movements graceful, but almost languid, he swam through the air, accelerating again as he headed back towards the congregation of heroes. He might as well introduce himself, make sure he didn't become part of some nasty fearmongering rumors...or at least that the press would have information other than those rumors.

His altitude having lowered as he returned, Outsider swam through the air over a building nearby the other capes before settling down on it, near enough that his hearing could pick out their words, but far enough so as not to startle them unnecessarily--though his massive monstrous form would probably do that anyways--much to his chagrin. So it was that he hovered in the air just above a building adjacent to theirs, ominous only due to his silence, waiting for them to engage him in some way...hopefully not in one involving violence.

I mean that was really all he could do, hope.

After listening to the "brazen/stupid" guy for a few moments I scratch my chin in thought. I honestly don't know what he saw, but he's not going for my suggestions. Verbally or telepathically. He seems like the kind of guy that would pester you until he got what he wanted. I suppose indulging his curiosity somewhat wouldn't hurt,"You got me kid,"I say spreading my arms wide and smirking,"I'm an expert at krav maga, those goons never stood a chance."I pause briefly and continue,"If you'd like, I could give you a free lesson at our training center. What do you say?" Hopefully that will do the trick..

A polite knock came on Overlook's door. Given he opened it like any reasonable person would, he would find a somewhat elderly looking man with a nice blue button-up shirt and black pants. Gray and receding hair with a friendly face and glasses. "Ah hello there, I take it you're Ruben? I'm Jackson." The man introduced himself with a cheery smile and a handshake, letting himself in afterwards. "If you don't mind me being a little blunt I was told you don't fully understand your para-humanism and might have some mental problems associated with it. How much are you willing to tell me about how this all started?" Jackson was clearly a conversational fellow but his voice was also no nonsense, it seemed this wasn't his first rodeo and he wanted to dive right into things, not even taking the time to sit down, simply adjusting his glasses and looking directly at Ruben.




Luckily for Wisp the Rocker's weren't the most subtle of fellows and after a bit of searching she would find a pickax gratified onto a wall, the head pointing towards some unknown location. Some more exploring would reveal the pickaxes appeared periodically, leading to a location that was either the work of some mischievous kids or the Rockers, though to be honest the difference was relatively marginal. There also seemed to be some shady looking characters hanging out in the general vicinity of the pickaxes, perhaps lookouts for anyone who noticed the marks. Regardless if Wisp followed the marks she'd find herself heading to a section of town more and more rundown, people here moved quickly and furtively, glancing around suspiciously. Eventually she'd come to what looked like a warehouse. Some high up windows revealed lights were inside and a closer look would reveal the shadows of people as well as the occasional snippet of conversation. There was an etched double pickax over one of side doors, as good an indication as any. It seemed Wisp had found a hideout for the Rockers, the question was what would she do now? There were several doors around the building in addition to large double doors in front.

There was an incredibly mundane and unbuilt robot residing on the desk in the room, with a bunch of scrap metal resting around it. It was quite the disappointing sight at the moment, but alas, that was to be continued at a later time, right now Ruben had to try and spill out as much info as he could about his past to this Jackson fellow. Ruben lifted himself onto the bed in the room, resting in a sitting position, tossing around his old creation of the Eye as if it was a ball.

"So... I'm going to be honest with you Jackson, I have no idea who I was before I found myself in that bunker. I knew my name -- or at least what I thought it was -- and I had quite the fair bit of knowledge when it came to strategy and hacking, but that's about all I could even think of. From what I could dig up about my past at all from various memories I could write down before I forgot them, I had gone to high school, I had dropped out for some reason -- I think the loss of my leg contributed to it -- and I had lost my leg from cancer. That's all I can tell you though, because this amnesia is keeping my other memories on lock down. I'd like to tell you more, but I simply can't."

---

If they were so wary about their marks being seen, then why set up the marks? Wisp shrugged internally as she kept going, eventually ending up at the warehouse. These people seemed all to be on-edge. … It occurred to her that they may have been told “Wisp is coming”. It also occurred to her that those marks earlier may have been intended entirely for her.

… Okay. That was minutely troubling. Also, she was starting to feel cold, mostly from shivers and the feeling of being in danger. Alright, let’s check things out.

Would be excruciatingly nice if someone were to go through that door at any time, because then Wisp could perhaps slip through. A self-opening door would tip them off somewhat fierce. She’d also walk around the place and watch for any opportunities to enter without having to open a door. If that was possible, she’d love to do that first.

… And if that turned out to be impossible, she had one more trick up her sleeve.

She wouldn’t start with the pickaxe marked door. She’d pick a relatively close door and see if she could work her way there. She’d press herself against the door, ensuring she’s within one meter of all of it with stretched limbs. On the other side, she’d simply take the light pictured and then maintain the image of the closed door on both sides. Keeping it like that, she’d attempt to silently open the door and get in, the light continuing to reveal but a closed door while she tried to be exceptionally silent going in. Hopefully, if she were doing this, she wouldn’t mess up and leave the other end of the door outside her range as she slipped by the end with as little margin as possible… hopefully.

She would not try the large double doors with that strategy. Couldn’t possibly hide that one opening with her light.

Now, if that door was locked, then she’d confirm so quickly and then move on to the next door to try again. If all the doors were locked, then she’d settle for sitting down somewhere waiting for the door to open from either side. They had to leave at some point, at the very least.

If she got inside and was otherwise not ambushed in any form or way, she’d explore the insides of the building as came natural, haunting for ways to get up to that lit room.

_@Eklispe

After breaking through the cloud and coming out on the other side, Sonika decelerated to a near standstill. While the view itself was nice, being above the clouds and all, the true reason she stopped was to regain her breath and to see if the strange creature was still giving chase. She waited only a brief moment before deciding to move on with her escape route. No longer in her pocket of air she was able to continue breathing on her own as she flew parallel to the cloud she was above. All the way to the edge, where she could look down and confirm visually that no giant alien monster was on its way. Whatever that was, or whoever it was, that could be a problem in the future if it can fly. That one will also be on my list...

She took her sweet time figuring out exactly where on the ground her factory was. It was difficult to make out specific buildings from miles in the sky, but Sonika was able to get a decent estimate based on mathematical guesswork and her own knowledge of the geography. Her factory lay in a specific part of town, which was next to many of the skyscrapers of downtown. And so she descended upon Denver at a leisurely pace. It took several minutes before she was able to recognize her building's roof by sight, where she then accordingly adjusted course. It was another couple minutes before she touched down in the parking lot, nearby her limousine. Clearly her entourage had arrived while she was occupied. This also meant her clothes were available and she could get out of her Sonika persona. She reached for the handle of the rear passenger door of the vehicle when she finally remembered she was holding a gun. She had forgotten about her grip on the revolver she stole from her hostage. She was far too flustered to realize she never dropped it. It would've been better to do so during her escape, as now she would have to have it disposed of in some way as to not link it back to this location or any of her people. A minor problem, but one that could've been avoided altogether if she had paid more attention to what she was doing.

I have been making mistakes all day today. It has been stressful and I'm getting sloppy. I need to stay calm and think clearly before I make my next moves. I've spent years working towards this and I will not have it all unravel before me on the grounds of pure chance...

A few minutes later and Natasha was once again in her business clothes, her Sonika costume hidden safely underneath with her bandana stored in her purse alongside Celia's gun. She marched into the warehouse's parking lot entrance, which lead directly into the warehouse rather than her office, to find that her bodyguards were all taking a smoke break. This would normally be irritating, to be smoking indoors is very rude and unsightly, but Natasha had bigger problems at hand. "Where is Nicholas?" she demanded immediately, catching their attention and prompting them all to begin putting out their cigarettes almost in unison. Before any could answer there was a shouting response from the open office door several meters away. "Yes! I am here, Miss Burkova," a middle-aged man responded. He was an average height, noticeably shorter than Natasha in her heels, but his body was built like he had been laboring all his life. He was strong but wasn't exactly fit, judging by the weight he's surely gained since his youth. His balding hair used to be brown but was beginning to gray, much like his mustache, but his skin didn't seem particularly saggy. One could guess he was in his forties, and they'd be correct.

"Nick. Here is what we are going to do..." Rather than explain right away she walked over to him, or rather past him into her office. It was a small room with a large plexiglass window with blinds looking into the warehouse floor, a single wooden desk with an outdated computer monitor atop, and a single small filing cabinet against the wall behind the desk. A very plain office. Surely not one befitting what Natasha actually does. No, most of that paperwork and files and money and such are safely stored at her home. Everything in this room was part of her legitimate businesses across Denver. But that didn't matter now because she was about to undergo some illegitimate business.

The tall woman took her seat in the rolling chair behind the desk, leaving Nick to remain standing near the window. She withdrew a notebook from the desk drawers and opened it to a blank page. "I want you to contact as many of the gangs and syndicates in this city as you can. I am putting a reward up for the girl's capture. Make sure they know what she looks like, so get her picture from the security tapes. Also tell them her name, but do not tell them she is parahuman." The older man nodded. "It'll take me a bit, but I'm sure the news will spread like wildfire if there is a reward. Everyone looking to make a quick buck would be hunting by nightfall. How much are you going to offer for a reward?" The blonde woman thought on his question briefly, staring down at the blank page on her desk as she finally picked up one of her pens.

"Two hundred million dollars."

"That is my reward offer. It can be wired or in cash, I do not care. We must capture this girl, Nick, and I am willing to make that happen no matter what it costs." Nicholas seemed to be surprised by the high reward. Sure, if the details of this girl's power were known her value would probably be much higher, but the current bounty would be more than sufficient in attracting attention. "How will you explain spending that much money?" "I will find a way. But that is a lesser problem, and a problem that only I alone will face. There are more important things to worry about. Once that girl is in our hands we can get back to business as usual. But for now I must ask you to leave and close the door on the way out." The older man seemed confused briefly but deduced quickly enough what her intentions were. "Alright then. I'll do my best to spread the word. Vigilantes and law enforcement will likely also be aware of the bounty by tomorrow if they have good connections, so I'll refrain from giving anything away about us..." As he took his leave and closed the office door, Natasha withdrew her phone from her purse and began dialing numbers. She had several calls to make of her own...



She didn't really intend to fall asleep so quickly. After all she was still basically in a relative stranger's house. A superpowered stranger at that. And the house was really a secret, underground hideout bunker. A collection of reasons to not be so lax yet Cassidy still dozed off faster than she could stop herself. Thankfully her trust in Macavity wasn't misplaced as when the young girl finally awoke there were no signs of any foul play. Her first thought upon waking was how embarrassing it was to pass out in front of Macavity, but then she remembered how terrible her previous day was and determined it was far from something to be bothered about. There was plenty more bothering her right now but she would keep it to herself the best she could.

With a loud huff she worked up the effort to sit upright on the bed, and with another loud huff she was on her feet. First she wondered what time it was, then she wondered where Macavity was. Unless she missed something this was the only bed and she had been occupying it. Surely it had to be night, or perhaps even morning by now. Cassidy didn't immediately see a clock and there was no windows to give her any hints. All she knew was that she was finally rested, though she was hungry and thirsty again. With Macavity not present it seemed as good a time as any to raid his place for food. Surely he had something better than those MREs, perhaps in a fridge somewhere. Then again if this place was supposed to be a hideout then he wouldn't be wasting his time doing grocery runs to keep a place that isn't his personal home stocked. Thus she decided not to tear the place up and instead settle for another one of the packaged military surplus meals.

Just as she was finishing her breakfast, or dinner depending on what time it was, her savior of yesterday finally arrived from the crazy secret entrance. And, to her surprise, he was bringing a lot of goodies with him. While she had asked him to help her get a costume she didn't expect him to be so quick to get started. With how much fabrics and such he seemed to have he must've started gathering hours ago. How long was I out? An unimportant thought, now that Cassidy could get to working with Macavity on preparing to take on a role as a vigilante. Well, not exactly a vigilante. But certainly not a criminal. Cassidy had no idea how she should describe her plans. "Wow, you work pretty quick. I figured we'd get started tomorrow, or later today. I'm not sure. Not so soon, for sure..." She had no idea how skilled Macavity was as a tailor, but she at least knew how to sew patches so surely that would be a transferable skill to making a costume. It couldn't be that hard making one, right?

"Okay, so I've thought about my costume a bit. I know the real reason to use it is to protect my identity, but since I'll probably be doing this for a little while it may as well be something I like. Ya know? Anyways, I hope you got some red because we're gonna use a lot of it... whatever material they make costumes out of. What do they make costumes out of? Like silk cloth or what? What kind of stuff did you... Nevermind, I don't even care. As long as it fits, looks good, and keeps people from knowing who I am at a glance it will do." With her energy regained and her body rested, it seemed that she had much more energy than she did yesterday. Whether that would amuse or bother Macavity, she didn't even consider before she began her barrage of words.

"I know my sizes so I can help out on that front. I've never really sewn anything before, I've only patched a hole in jeans one time, but it wasn't too bad so I can also help for doing any stitching work if you need it. Are you gonna, like, hire someone to do this or do it yourself? Did you have someone make your costume? Do capes usually make their own costumes? I dunno, I'm kinda new to the scene so I have no idea what everyone else is doing but I think we should do whatever everyone else is doing because it seems to be working for them. Anyways, I said I want it to be red but not like all red because then it'd look kinda goofy. But like red and white, so it looks nicer. I could go red and black but that's a darker color and I don't want to look emo or brooding or something. Red and white is safer, yes. Also I want it to be light... like its weight. And..."

She paused, finally, to consider a few other details. "Hmmm... Let's make the pants really short. I like running, I've always been a runner, and it's way easier to run without any pant legs in the way. But I don't wanna have, like, no legs at all on the costume. I don't want to look like some kind of slut showing off her legs... But at the same time if I have to run for my life I kinda want to be able to run for my life. Then again I probably won't ever really need to run for my life... Oh! I don't think I ever told you what I can do." Cassidy took another breather, before holding up her hand to get Macavity's attention. She wanted to make sure his eyes were on her. "So I'm a runner. I've been training for cross-country, but I can sprint really well. I'm quite fast. My mile is four minutes and thirty-seven seconds exact. But my power has nothing to do with that. I can stop people's perception of time temporarily, kinda freezing them in place for a bit. It's a bit confusing and hard to explain. My brother was able to explain it better than me, but let me just show you instead."

Without any warning she activated her power, leaving Macavity in place. Cassidy then walked over to the other side of the room and faced him again, waiting a couple seconds for his perception to catch up as her power deactivated. From his point of view she basically teleported across the room, even changing her posture and positioning, all far faster than the blink of an eye. "So yeah, I guess it isn't the strongest superpower out there. I won't be flying around or lifting cars or anything... But I can use this to my advantage. Thugs without any powers can be taken care of, I hope. Just gotta... kick 'em in the balls or something while they're frozen. I mean, I could try punching people but..." She raised her right hand and placed her palm on the top of her head, before lifting it several inches upwards in a gesture to indicate a height difference. Cassidy wasn't delusional about her stature. She was barely a teenager, a girl, and short. The only people she was going to beat in a fistfight would be children and the handicapped. "So yeah, that's why I wanna be able to run if I have to, ya know? Play to my strengths and all that. If I can't do anything to someone I wanna at least make sure they can't do anything to me... Oh, I'm sorry. I forgot one thing. My power is kinda limited. I can only freeze people for so long a day. So I can't just use it whenever I feel like because then I'll wear myself out and won't be able to use it again in an emergency."

Only now did Cassidy realize that she had been bombarding Macavity since he arrived, barely allowing any moments of silence. Worrying that she might be bothering the man trying to help her, she decided to take a much longer pause this time and simply keep her mouth shut. The last thing she wanted was to irritate him, not just because he's been nice to her but also because he could kick her out of the bunker whenever he wanted and she'd be in for a very rough time with no costume or disguise to hide herself from the bad guys.

Luckily for Wisp it was not overly long before a burly looking man opened a door she was near, he did a brief loop around the building, looking rather bored but not quite to the point of not doing his job, his lazy gaze swept the area somewhat competently before he returned inside via the door he came out, offering Wisp two opportunities to come in. Given that she did come in she'd find the building mostly filled with various boxes with various items. From the looks of things it was a warehouse that the Rockers had taken over, given there was a lot of random stuff like cleaning supplies and whatnot. They probably used it to store their stolen goods. She would find a couple grunts sitting down at corners, but she would likely want to head towards the stairs that lead to an upper room that was the source of the light. The door to it was slightly ajar and voices could be faintly heard.




Jackson nodded "I see. Some sort of amnesia associated with your trigger event, uncommon but not unprecedented. We will leave that subject and any delving into it for later. As for now, I was informed your knowledge of your parahumanism is somewhat uncertain. So we shall go about this simply. What obvious abilities have you noticed that may qualify as a part of your condition? What activities have you found yourself leaning towards? The robot seems to indicate tinker, but many that would make every 12 year old with a kit a tinker so I'd like to hear a little more." Jackson continued in his simple but effective manner of questioning: his eyes were staring at Ruben analytically, still with a cheery 'friendly old person' kind of smile.

A sudden, lurching motion captured Elliot's attention, and with furrowed brows he watched Alessa barely keep herself from falling flat on her face. Then the girl apologized, and tried to sweep the tears away. A stab of pity pierced Elliot's heart, turning his bored frown morose. The hurt's just now reaching her? ...She's taking it pretty hard. He felt compelled to try and offer some comfort, but what could a measly buffoon, struggling with his own thoughts, give as solace? Empathy wasn't part of the script he'd devised. Nothing like this was supposed to happen. Of course, Elliot hadn't naively thought that bad things would simply pass his life by, but he couldn't have understood or anticipated this sort of despair until it clawed at him without mercy. He straightened himself up, moving his rear back into the chair, and transitioned into a forward slouch. Though still not the best of postures, it gave the impression of being engaged. With his head rested in his hand, he watched Alessa try to work through what plagued her.

It would have been easy to look at the floor, or close his eyes and let the darkness mask the pain, but Elliot steeled himself to see the raw emotion on his new leader's face. No matter how little he professed to care about any of the others, he hated to see anyone cry, especially Messiah. Out of all of them, she tormented him the least. He didn't know whether her true nature suited her rather saintly image, but seeing her now brought into his mind the image of some pure, holy girl touched by tragedy for the very first time. It wasn't right. When she spoke, he had ears for her. A nod greeted her words. ”Yes, I shall carry whatever anyone requires. Least I can do. The thought of getting a car struck me.” Not quite knowing why he felt it necessary to share his plan, Elliot moved closer to the table and raised his profile to put his elbow on it. Perhaps, he reasoned, he wanted to try and make the situation more normal.

His focus shifted to Ira, and a chill went down his spine as the nullification field went into effect. It was rather like having an ache and not knowing exactly where in the torso or head it was. Dryly he thought about how lucky he had been to leave all his things in his room; otherwise, a collection of cinderblocks, caltrops, knives, and other weapons might have exploded off him, or even into him, once unbound by his power. Having heard her suggestion, he lifted his head out of his hand to give a succinct nod. ”It would take some planning on my part to ensure whatever I have on me doesn't hurt any of us as it all reverts, but that is an excellent plan. Evening the playing field, so to speak.”

When Tulpa began to speak, he grew silent. To broach the matter of Collin so soon was to reopen a very fresh scar. Either the girl's choice to speak up now would make matters worse or it wouldn't. Elliot, unable to help in any way, would have to wait and see. He could not keep himself from shifting uncomfortably, and interlacing his fingers.

---

She’d likely not make it in time for the first time he opened the door, but by silently stalking the guard until he was heading in again Wisp found her opportunity to slip inside. Assuming she did not trigger any alarm, she’d feel relief in that she had gotten this far without trouble. She’d keep her eyes out for security devices of any kind, just in case, while she drifted about and gleamed what she could from the contents of the boxes and what the grunts were doing, just in case.

But of course, the subjects of the most interest were likely inside the brighter room. This wasn’t necessarily a mission to get any dirt on them, but any kind of ammunition was nice. As such, it was time to get as much information on the situation as she could. She leaned at the wall beside the door, listening as intently as she could from outside since they had been so kind to leave the door ajar for her. It occurred to her that may actually have been the exact intention, but she’d pretend it wasn’t.

As she could turn light within her one-meter range, she could also turn the light from inside the room and guide it into her eyes to see inside without actually leaning in to peek. She did exactly that, while also straining her ears to hear what they were saying as well as possible. The question of “can Shatterpoint see me” still lingered within her mind, it was all too possible he would see floating points of weaknesses on her invisible body. But, if this was the room she was looking for, she’d likely enter eventually. But, first. Eavesdrop and see in from around the corner.

_@Eklispe