Jayce gave a light smirk.

"I wouldn't be in a good mood either if I was in the position that you were in just come take a walk with me."

Knowing that Violet was a short fuse with a time bomb attached, he rolled his eyes.

"I don't give a shit about that. You were justified in your reaction. I saw you in that fight with the crab monster. You held no quarter in taking that thing down. That stupid director only gives a shit about PR and that sorry excuse for a human being is good PR. Think about it. Some poor shmuck comes along while you and everyone else is fighting only to take the final blow right out from under you because why? He was in the right place at the right time? Bullshit. Director may have some speech later about how "anyone can be a hero if they have the courage to do so" but from what I saw...tch..." He sighed and rubbed the back of his head as he slowly started walking ahead. He glanced back with slight annoyance.

"I hardly ever openly invite someone to hang around me so just..." He simply shook his head and started walking. He had the slightest feeling that she would so he kept his pace slow as he lit up a cigarette.

"And if you wanna stay silent the whole time be my guest. I just find walks to do one something good..."

Ana smiled and accepted the towel she was handed as the shoot wrapped up. Her acting career had taken off years ago, but she still got sweaty under the lighting rigs. Just one of the prices for fame, she supposed. As she finished wiping the moisture from her face, her manager showed up wringing his hands nervously.

"I know that look." Ana said, gently poking at her sometimes boss/sometimes friend. "Something's happened, and you want a favor from me. Go on, I'm listening."

Instead of saying anything out loud, the slightly taller man showed her the tablet he had tucked under his arm. It took the starlet a few moments to grasp the news report, but as soon as she did her hands flew to her face in shock.

"Oh god, all those people! Of course I'll help, whatever you think I can do for them."

----

And that's how Ana found herself standing in the lobby of a bustling hospital, shifting her weight from foot to foot. Everyone around her looked so busy, she didn't know what to do.

Is this really alright? I want to help, but I don't want to get in the way.

Steeling her nerves, Ana walked up to the reception desk and gave her brightest smile. The woman at the desk looked her over and shook her head, pointing to one of the very few empty chairs in the room.

"I'm sorry, but you aren't critical. Take a seat and we'll get to you when we can."

Ana almost took the seet, despite not being here for treatment. "No, I'm not here for that. I wanted to lend a hand. I have some basic medical training I took for a role once."

Looking the actress over again, recognition suddenly dawned on the overworked orderly. "You're- yes, I'm sure we could find a use for an extra set of hands. Wait right here, I'll call a nurse to escort you. Just be careful, one of the patients is especially hard to handle."

"Hard to handle?" Ana asked, curious now that she was sure to be helping people.

"Yes, I hear she's a hero. Got hurt in the fighting. You won't be dealing with someone that dangerous though."

Ana tensed up just a little as a nurse came to lead her away. There were heroes here. That could be bad for her. Still, she was wearing her public face, nobody should be able to recognize her.

Right?

@Emuxe@FallenTrinity@Norschtalen

I have a bad feeling about him, but... I suppose he's right.

Hesitant, the Ukrainian woman met his pace beside him, but didn't make eye contact. Rather, she folded her purple gloved hands together before her, keeping her golden gaze at her feet.

"As you've said, you don't hang around with others often. And I'm not the friendliest person here. So you must have another reason for inviting me along with you rather than just wanting a companion." The words were cold. He obviously had a motive, but Violet Reaper couldn't put her finger on it. She didn't care if she seemed rude, she was annoyed already, and she didn't feel like being bothered.

Still, she went along didn't she? Reaper's shoulders visibly softened. "... Apologies. I don't mean to be brash. Thank you, for talking up for me back there. It was very kind of you." She offered lightly, still avoiding looking at him. She wasn't one for interaction, after all...

Savant

---

Aaron stumbled into the lobby of the hospital. The hospital seemed to be on fast forward - everyone was running around trying to attend to everything. And, given the recent attack, it made sense that there would be tens, if not hundreds, of people who needed to be treated. There were hundreds dead after the penguin attack. Or it seemed that way.

Aaron almost made it to the front desk, where there was an overworked tech, typing rapidly and talking on the phone while speaking to someone behind him. Tresler was about to ask where Dread Lock was staying when he collapsed. His arms and legs and portions of his core and torso simply wouldn't work.

Ah… I carried the hammer, so my muscles have to contract again which is never pleasant… then it was advantageous that I came to the hospital, otherwise I'd be in bed for the next few days… there's methods here that'll get me out of here soon… Aaron thought, having realized what was going on.

He lost track of what was happening as he came in and out of consciousness. “Sudden onset muscular atrophy!” One of the nurses called to a doctor as they'd rushed over to the collapsed man. He lost consciousness again as they heaved his small weight onto a stretcher and rolled him away. They toted a crash cart along in case his heart stopped. An all too likely possibility.

It would seem that Sweet Devil's disguise was seen through by one of Dreadlock's guests. If she had to guess, this person must be some sort of holy person. It was the only way Sweet Devil could think for how she saw through her disguise. For Angel, Sweet Devil dropped her illusion to reveal her true form. "I'm helping. The sedatives may have stopped her rampage, but it can do nothing for the damage done to her mind. Don't be mistaken, I'm not here to hurt her. Simply help her the only way I can. With sweet dreams and encouragement~" While genuine, the way Sweet Devil worded it made it sound like she was playing a trick. True she is mostly doing this to gain Dreadlock's friendship, but is to so bad that Sweet Devil wants that and for Dreadlock to be okay too?

Meanwhile in the dream Sweet Devil walked in front of Dreadlock. She had no scythe and her wings were pulled back behind her. Dreadlock came off with a strong question that Sweet Devil didn't have an answer to, so she just looked sad and averted her eyes. "I... I don't know. I heard you fought a powerful villain and then... They found you like this. The Hero Association is giving you time off to recover." Seeing Dreadlock beginning to tear up Sweet Devil took out a handkerchief and wiped the tears away. The handkerchief had a faint apple smell. "As you can see you lost your arms and legs. Your friends are trying to find ways to help you, to heal you or replace what you lost. I wish I could do something like that, but all I can do is make sure you're not alone."

@FallenTrinity@Emuxe

@FallenTrinity

Mrs. Pickles began by apologizing as he brushed himself off. “Sorry, I’m not used to using mopeds…” when Jayce apologized for cursing relentlessly at him, Mrs. Pickles determined that they were even.

The talk of the town? “Yeah… that’s about right…” Mrs. Pickles scratched the back of his head, not sure how to feel about all of this attention. “Look… I don’t know how I advanced through the ranks so quickly… I think there was a mis… hey, where did the guy in yellow go?”

Sure enough, the man had vanished. Mrs. Pickles was about to say something, when he was cut off by a loud roar. The few pedestrians that were lingering nearby quickly ran away and hid. Suddenly, five men riding motorcycles rounded the corner. They were wearing black leather jackets, with bits of yellow on them. Mrs. Pickles quickly readied his hunting rifle as they approached.

The five men were all wielding sawed-off shotguns, and didn’t look like they were in a great mood.

“Why don’t you two back off,” one of them grunted, glaring at Mrs. Pickles. “What you just witnessed was simply… business…”

Mrs. Pickles didn’t have much to lose, so he showed a sudden surge in courage. “Killing a co-worker seems like a little too much paperwork for a-”

*BANG!*

One of the men fired a shot near Mrs. Pickles. Not close enough to hit him, but it made him jump.

The five motorcyclists chuckled. “You know,” said one. “Why don’t we just kill you two? Two less problems, eh?” The other four agreed, and then three immediately drove towards Mrs. Pickles as two drove towards Jayce.

The first gang member to drive past Mrs. Pickles didn’t even bothering a shot, and just smacked him in the face with the butt of the gun. Mrs. Pickles brought his arms up to protect his face, and they took the brunt of the damage.

The next cyclist did the same thing, but hit Mrs. Pickles from behind, sending him sprawling to his stomach. Mrs. Pickles rolled onto his back, and was about to get up, but then felt pressure on his abdomen and chest and heard the roar of an engine and laughing in his ear. One of the gang members was slowly running over him with his motorcycle!

Mrs. Pickles gasped for air as the motorcycle rolled over him. He felt his ribs straining. Mrs. Pickles grasped desperately at anything, and was only able to loosely grab the man’s shoe, but didn’t have the strength to hold onto it. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the thug drove off of Mrs. Pickles chest and spun around.

The three were going to leave him and work with the others to fight Jayce, but, shaking, Mrs. Pickles stood up. He reached towards his hunting rifle, but then one of the motorcyclists drove by and picked it up, but Mrs. Pickles grabbed onto the strap and tugged. The man was flung onto the pavement by this sudden movement, and landed on his head, rendering him unconscious.

Mrs. Pickles grabbed his hunting rifle and fired a sloppy shot at one of the other two men. It connected, and the man fell to the ground, clutching a wound to his abdomen. Then, the final rider approached Mrs. Pickles. This was the one that had run him over and probably fractured his rib (thankfully, Pickles didn’t have any cracked ribs, just some serious bruises). Mrs. Pickles tried to ready his rifle again, but he was too late. The man was about to blast him away with his shotgun. It was over! And then, the man and his motorcycle suddenly fell to the ground.

When Mrs. Pickles had been struggling to survive as the man sat on top of the hero with the motorcycle, he had accidentally grasped the man’s shoe and untied his shoelace. The shoelace got caught in the motorcycles shifter and the man had accidentally tipped the wrong way and pinned himself under his vehicle. Mrs. Pickles, bewildered, could do nothing but look at Jayce to see what progress the other hero had made fighting the two other motorcyclists.

@Animal

Evan was lead to a room with a thin doctor who ran some simple, straightforward tests. Sort of like a hero specific check up. Afterwards, he was lead to a brilliant room with wonderfully carved tables. The room was clearly designed to hold at least three dozen people, but other than Evan the room remained silent for a good bit.

Finally, a lone man entered, wearing a collared shirt and a plain suit that was clearly too small. He seemed ex-military, and had a pair of thick shades and muscles, but his belly stuck out just a little bit, revealing he had been putting on a pound or two. The man held a folder in his hands and looked inside. Then, he looked up at Evan. Even a blind man could have read that expression. That man was disappointed and angry.

Suddenly, the man slammed the file down, making the table quake. If Evan looked closely, he could see the graying hairs on the man's head quivering from the impact.

He strode over to Evan and sat in the chair next to him.

"So tell me... what do you know?" The man paused, as if he was going to give Evan an opportunity to speak, but then continued. "Because you should tell me everything. I want names. I want phone numbers. I want their mothers' names. Their mothers' phone numbers. I want their credit card information, birthday, pet's name, favorite place to buy baked goods, favorite color, whether not they eat pineapples on their pizza, the brand of mouthwash they use- every little detail that you can think of, because the information your holding from me could be the difference between me sending you to a cozy little prison cell for the next fourteen years or me just bashing your skull against this table and using your organs as jump ropes and your bones as tools to repair the table so that I can bash you skull against it one more time. Then, I'll take your brain and make it into soup. You know, the kind with little onions in it. Then, I'll take your heart and pin it on that wall, right over there! See that wall?" The man pointed at a water cooler that was resting in the corner of the room. "And do you know what I'm going to do to your skin?"

Whatever the man was going to do to Evan's skin suddenly became unimportant as he changed the subject. "SO! I'll play nice if you play nice. Do I make myself clear, kiddo?"

Evan wasn't given a half of a chance to respond before the man spoke once more- "ISAIDDOIMAKEMYSELFCUHLEEEEEERRRR?!?!?" The man pounded on the table once more and then stared at Evan intently, waiting for a response. If Evan was paying attention, he would notice the man was cradling his bruised hand underneath of the table after smashing it against the table so much.

He deadpanned to the comment about Mopeds.

"No shit... He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed only to look at Pickles with a quirked brow pertaining to the yellow guy to which he simply shrugged.

The sound of motorcycles approaching rang in Jayce's ears and he looked up, his eyes narrowing. They thought they were some tough shit. Jayce found himself smirking as the action progressed. But initially, he hadn't joined but rather, leaned up against the totaled car and looked on, gauging Pickles combative skills. He would say he was impressed, if Pickles had intentionally took down three on purpose but instead he had lady look on his side. Shaking his head he instead decided to start walking away, that was until he felt the bunt end of a Woodstock slam into the back of his head. He slumped forward, his feet remained planted but his movements did not falter. He looked up, his eyes glowing a deep magenta as he watched the one cyclist ride by. The second coming up from behind, knocking Jayce off his feet.

"And where do you think your going bud, huh?" The first assailant asked.

"He thinks he can walk away from all this." His buddy quipped.

"Nah...That's not happening." His other buddy snickered before the first one joined in. But something soon felt wrong when Jayce joined in.

"Heheheheeheheh..." The first biker narrowed his eyes.

"What's so funny?" Jayce, clutching his side, stood up, a big smile on his face.

"You guys are. You see-" He began walking to them bending his head side to side to crack his neck as he rolled his shoulders.

"Here I was, minding my own business, talking with a fellow hero with, at the time, no idea what the hell was going on other than the fact that some shit for brains in a piss stain colored suit was being chased down by him. Then, you guys decide to show up and ruin everyones perfectly good day by-"

BANG Jayce was thrown back by the shotgun blast, slamming his head against the ground. His shirt, clothes, ripped to shreds by the buckshot. He laid there silently.

"Fucking talk to much..."

"Let's get the other on"

"YOU SONOVA BITCH! Do you have ANY IDEA how much this FUCKING JACKET COSTS!? He practically hopped up from his position and in a blind show of speed, had his fist meet the bikers face in record time, shattering the jaw and fracturing his skull, all the while sending the man airborne. His other friend was shocked and went to take off and would have gotten away had it not been for the fact that Jayce had grabbed and bent the back tire of the other guy's bike. Terrified he looked back, Jayce with a glean in his eye that reeked of death.

"This is a $2,000 Jacket custom made and custom fit...oh wait...I'm sorry...WAS!" With the man still on the back, he through it against the totaled car. Knocking the guy unconscious. Then he turned his attention to the other three, a crazed look in his eye.

---

Lazy eyes looked ahead as he weaved through the crowds with Reaper, only for them to slightly widen at the thought of hidden intentions but quickly faded as they came through. Thankfully an apology came through but he shook his head.

"Don't apologize for something that you believe in. I only back up those who are justified in their actions and question the morality of those around them. People who see darkness in the light. Do you know what I mean?" He looked over with a quirked brow before looking away for a second to exhale the smoke from the cigarette, avoiding getting any of it in Violets face.

"Its the fact that you see life like this is why I invited you to come with me. You and me both have that in common." The cherry from his smoke brightening from behind his hood as another trail of smoke followed suit.

"We ground ourselves in our morals and values and expect the same from those around. But we both know humans are simply that...human. We stray away from what is right for something that better's our selfish side. Greed can be a funny sin if you think about it. People take and take until the weight of the world crashes down upon them. It isn't until their misfortune do they find true fortune...Knowledge. For our wonderful director-" He exhaled another trail. His voice carried this nonchalant tone about it.

"It's his pride. It has closed his eyes and shut doors and burned bridges in his career and yet he continues to move about life like nothing is wrong. Hence why what happened to you happened. But you're not alone." He turned down a street a bit away from the larger crowds on a less traffic filled area of the city. His paced slowed as his tone changed slightly. He sighed as lowered his head and looked over to Violet again, a light smirk on his face.

"So you weren't wrong when you said that I had another reason for bringing you along with me." Soon enough he stopped. On his left was the monument dedicated to those lost by Juubilee. He glanced over at it with a grim expression before looking back over to her.

"It's time for a change within the rankings of HQ, specifically, the resignation of a certain director that has fallen from his moral duty to his heroes, blatant disregard to the efforts of those who serve, and failure to promote those who deserve it and I can think of no one better to sit at the director's chair then you, Violet Reaper, or should I say, Director Sokolov." He now turned to face her. In his eyes there was confidence and overall seriousness to them. He would let this sink in before speaking up.

"I already have gained a number of heroes willing to go through with this. A few S ranks, plenty of B ranks and other A ranks. All of which who had lost faith in the Director's ability to properly supervise those under him. I have some even within HQ itself willing to help out and if that's not enough-" He leaned in, not enough to make her feel uncomfortable but enough to privatize the conversation even more.

"What would you say if I said I could increase your powers to the point that you would give Guardian a run for his money?" Giving a light smile, he leaned away, taking another drag off his cigarette.

---

Angel eyed her up before releasing here shining barrier.

"I'll be watching you..." Angel moving closer to Dread and attempted to continue the healing process. Guardian on the other hand moved over to Dread and put her hand in his own, sad eyes looked at her.

"I should have been more careful. I let myself get careless and I put you in harms way..."

"Look son...Blaming yourself won't undo what happened and you know it. Right now its just best to stay with her and keep her at ease. Guardian nodded and looked back out the door, seeing someone else approaching.

"Hey...Here to see Dread as well?" Angel glanced up to look at the new comer with the same cautious eyes as she did with Sweet Devil.

Ana stood frozen at the doorway. Her path here had passed in a blur as the nurse escorting her had shoved a medical bag into her arms, chattered furiously about a patient with electrical burns, then pushed her into a room and shut the door. Instead of seeing an ordinary patient in a hospital bed, she was being stared down by several incredibly frightening people.

"D-Dread? As in Dreadlock?" Ana asked shakilly, "And you- you're Guardian, a-and Angel Grace right? I remember re-reading about you for one of my rolls." Ana bowed low in respect, holding the medical bag to her chest. She might not be on the side of light, but these were people who worked as hard as they could to save lives. That was something even she could respect.

With some subtle alterations to her brain chemistry, Ana settled her nerves before she straightened up, painting a wide smile across her face. "I'm actually here volunteering. I think my escort is a bit overworked right now, she led me to the wrong room, but while I'm here I'd like to see what I can do to ease her pain, even just a little."

@FallenTrinity@Norschtalen@Emuxe

The woman seemed unamused and distant. The man was talking nonsense. Darkness in the light? That wasn't true at all. She wanted to eradicate darkness from this world altogether, but does that mean she has a trained eye for it? Violet Reaper didn't believe so.

Still, she let him ramble. About greed, about pride, sins... What was hers? Envy? Sadly, that seemed so. Wrath was also something close to her heart, this unneeded waste of anger and energy for no apparent reason. Niflheim could never understand what made her this way. The wars in the Ukraine, with the ghettos and the scum that roamed the streets, perhaps? Yes, that was it. That hatred she held for those who chased after her in the streets, the ones she had to fight alone to protect her little brother. For some reason, that's who she pictured as the evil in this world. The narcissistic vile creatures that ruin the idea of the species 'human.'

But, does the director really fall into such a category?

As they veered into a quieter street, Niflheim tensed. What was this guy planning now? Her reflexes were ready and fired, ready to pull Hell's Mirror from her back and slice his head from his shoulders if he seemed to go insane. Sinnister truly seemed like the type to snap on a whim...

"So you weren't wrong when you said that I had another reason for bringing you along with me."

Violet Reaper's eyes narrowed, finally raising to glare full on at Sinnister. Not a surprise.

"It's time for a change within the rankings of HQ, specifically, the resignation of a certain director that has fallen from his moral duty to his heroes, blatant disregard to the efforts of those who serve, and failure to promote those who deserve it."

Get to the point...

"I can think of no one better to sit at the director's chair then you, Violet Reaper, or should I say, Director Sokolov."

Suddenly, all of the tenseness in her muscles left in an instant. Niflheim was totally taken aback. H-her, the director?

Finally, she mustered the strength to reply, refusing to stutter before him from her shock. "You're insane. What makes you think I deserve such a rank if I cannot even make S class? I'm not strong enough." Violet Reaper muttered, the sadness ebbing through her words at the admittance of her failure.

But then he spoke of others, willing to rebel. But, not for her as director? How is that possible that others think she could surpass Director Danzo, a mere fifth ranked A class? No matter how she looked at it, Niflheim just didn't have enough power.

"What would you say if I said I could increase your powers to the point that you would give Guardian a run for his money?"

A cold feeling went through her veins. "Stronger than... If you could do such a thing, why wouldn't you do so to yourself instead of aiding me? Why choose me as director anyway if you say we are so much alike?" She whispered, but it was obvious that, gradually...

She was starting to want to go along with this.

@FallenTrinity
The Motorcyclist that had been shot had slipped out of consciousness, and the one that had tried to swipe Mrs. Pickles’ rifle had already been knocked out, leaving only the man pinned under his own motorcycle. At first, the man had been dumbfounded, but now he realized that his shoelace was stuck and was only pissed off.

“You’re not even a real hero, are you? You probably don’t even know how to fight, you piece of shit,” said the guy pinned under the motorcycle.

“Who are you? Who do you work for?” asked Mrs. Pickles.

“I work for the Gang of X City… the Rainbow Gang.”

“The Rainbow Gang? Seriously? That’s what you're called?”

“Yep. Ask any police officer. They know about us. Gangs are perfect… too big for most of the crappy heroes and too small for those other pricks who sit on their thrones until they can start beating on some monster…”

“What’s the name of your boss?”

“To be specific, Yellow.”

“Was that the guy I saw running away?”

“Yep.”

“What’s his real name.”

“I don’t know. Nobody knows the name of any of the ringleaders. Just colors. Orange. Blue. Red. All the big guys get these code names. Orange is the leader.”

“Where is he now?”

“I don’t know! I-”

Mrs. Pickles kicked the man in the face. Hard. The man shouted as pain filled shot through him.

“Did that jog your memory?”

“For the love of… I don’t know, you moron! To say I’m one of their pawns is an exaggeration. I got orders from a guy who gets orders from a guy who gets orders from Orange. He told me to cover Yellow’s escape. Forget Orange, I don’t even know where Yellow is.”

“Then give me the name of the guy who gives you orders.”

“Pfft, like that will get you anywhere. You realize after him you have a whole network of guys to go through? What, you think you can stop him?”

“Do you even know who you are talking to? I’m Mrs. Pickles.”

Mrs. Pickles expected fear, horror. Instead, the man laughed. “You? Mrs. Pickles? Oh, that’s rich. Sure, you might have beat us but if that’s S-Ranked level combat then I’m the King of the World. Hell, people were right. You are a joke. I’ll give you everything I know and you won’t be able to make anything out of it, and that guy-” he nodded towards Jayce, “has more important things to worry about then some Gang, I’m sure.”

“Fine. Prove me wrong. Tell me everything you know,” said Mrs. Pickles, calmly. He was getting used to hearing insults, regardless of whether or not he deserved them.

The self proclaimed King of the World shifted uncomfortable under his bike, and then spoke. “Okay. I know some places and names… but I better get some time off of my sentence. First name is Harry Wilson. He works in a warehouse in the northern part of the city. It’s on B-” the man was cut off as a bullet cleanly punctured his skull, killing him.

“Sniper!” shouted Mrs. Pickles, as he quickly stumbled towards a car and hit. The sniper didn't fire at him and probably ran off to hide. He had killed his target: The man who knew things.

Things went quiet and then Mrs. Pickles heard the sound of sirens. A fire truck, some ambulances, and a few police officers.

The fire truck immediately started putting out the small fire that had been made as a result of the moped collision as three of the gang members were loaded into ambulances and the two corpses were examined by the the police officers. Mrs. Pickles walked over to talk to Jayce, but wasn’t sure what to say. He just stood next to the hero and waited for him to speak. Then, Mrs. Pickles cell phone rang.

“Excuse me,” said Mrs. Pickles to Jayce, even though the two weren’t talking. Mrs. Pickles answered the phone. “Hello this is- wait, if this is the call about the one hundred dollar gift card I ‘won’ you need to back off. I know that’s…” his voice trailed off as someone spoke on the other line.

“Alright. Thank you. I’ll be there right away, sir,” said Clarence, carefully, his voice shaking slightly. Clarence placed his cell phone in his pocket and stared blankly into the distance. He was clearly scared, and perhaps a bit angry. “I’m going to have to go. Let them know what happened,” said Mrs. Pickles to Jayce. And then, the hero crossed the street and began to walk to the east, to preoccupied to notice if Jayce or the cops asked for anything or followed. The police didn’t even notice Pickles, and were more preoccupied by the man who had been punched in the face by Jayce and placing his corpse into a bodybag.

V E N T U S

---

Geoff was scheduled later that evening to make an appearance on City A news. It was going to be covered by several other news stations around the country. It had been scheduled before the alien attack that morning and Geoff had figured that would be a huge topic of discussion. He was wrong.

Geoff had left the HQ coffee shop around five-thirty in order to make his way over to the station for the six o’clock show. He tried to arrive as soon as he could because past experience had told him that he would need to spend time in the dressing room for makeup and such so the staff could make him as screen-worthy as possible.

He'd been dressed in a white casual suit that someone from the station had picked out. He often wore white and so it had become his color. As he stood just off-camera he heard the announcer introducing him, “...I'm Harry Horowitz and our next guess is someone we've had on many times before. He's earned two PhDs, one in Theoretical Physics and one in Pure Mathematics. He's been a hero for several years, has risen to S-Class Rank 10 and just earlier today helped defend City S from a Demon level threat. Put your hands together for Ventus!” There was a studio audience who clapped enthusiastically as Geoff appeared on stage and on camera, for everyone at home.

“Glad to have you back Dr. Burr.” The newsman stood as Geoff walked over, offering his hand. Yes, walked. Geoff was told that he must walk on stage and actually sit. The sensation was so unfamiliar to him. The clumsy steps and cadence to it - he must have looked stiff walking in dress shoes. It reminded him of working out, the only time he used his arms and legs. In fact, the only reason he did exercise was so that he didn't suffer muscular atrophy or something.

“I'm glad to be back. It's always a privilege to be on the show, Harry.” Geoff accepted the hand and they both exchanged grasps, though Geoff’s was probably weaker. He took a seat, this sensation was also very foreign to him. He never really sat anywhere. When he thought about it, the last place he'd sat was probably on that cushioned chair during his last appearance on the show.

After a moment and it had seemed that Geoff had settled in, Harry continued with the show. “So our first topic tonight is not about you or the monster in City S. it's about the newest S Class Hero. What do you think about Mrs. Pickles?” Harry clicked a pen a few times and pretended to write on some paper.

“Well, I'm not so sure at the moment. I know that he deserved a promotion, maybe to B Class. I'm not sure about S, but I will say that during the fight I was hit - he never was… Perhaps he has some sort of hidden talent.” The audience collectively chuckled at that.

“What about Director Danzo’s decision to make him S Rank 15? Does that upset you at all? There seems to be a growing discontentment, over the last few hours, with the decision amongst heroes.”

“I suppose I might have a skewed perception, since I'm one of the only fourteen heroes above him in the rankings at the moment.” Geoff paused for a moment to ponder. “I don't really care too much. Sure, it's a little over-the-top of a reaction to his performance on his first day. But, I do understand the rationale behind why other heroes are upset. They've been in the game for years, working as hard as they can, when this new guy shows up and on his first day out-shines all of them.”

It seemed like the interview would continue like that for a while longer.

As he made his way to the other guy who Pickles was dealing with, he narrowly avoided the rifle round that whizzed by his ear before the shot was heard. His instinct took over and he lunged towards the car, placing it between him and the new potential threat. Through the window, he could see a figure duck down behind the top roof of a building and narrowing his eyes, he began to figure out which way he could go from there and there were plenty of escape routes from there. Fire escapes, interconnecting alleyways and other smaller streets meant for trash trucks and the like. As he got up from the spot, figuring it was clear he walked towards Pickles, only to stop when the sirens came in blaring. Soon enough the new S-rank hero's phone rang to which Jayce looked at him and shook his head, only giving Pickles a "Hn" when asked to be excused to take it and when he was asked to let the police know what transpired. For that however, he waited until pickles back was turned before flipping him off. Sighing, he turned to the police and begun to explain everything to them. Once he was finished, he would then search out the shooter but not before stopping by the Director's office.

---

He had expected the questions to come through and he embraced them. He shook his head at the idea of doing it himself though, chuckling even.

"I wish it were that easy but I'm not in any position as to where I can do it "myself" and there's three reasons why... First off, I'm his undercover, I'm battling him at every turn there is when it comes to my job because of the moral implications that are always on the chopping block. I'm an A-ranked hero but I'm not even listed as one. Do you know why? Because I handle the real dirty work in this city outside of the random alien encounter now and then. I live amongst the scum of these cities and do what they ask of me in order to take them down once and for all. You might have an idea with what that would entail and what kind of mental destruction that would have on an individual..." He seemed to trail off at the end, reminiscing about the countless dirty deeds he was asked to do by gang higher ups in order to get as close as he could, just to take them down. Drug dealing, grand theft auto, laundering and all the way up to murder, just to take down a few crime lords if one could even call them that.

"Secondly, I know that he would already have a contingency plan in place incase I was to rebel since I have so many ties to the underground and lived amongst the darkness for so long that I could be "compromised" as he has put it. But you on the other hand...He likes you, your a great hero, willing to do whatever he says in order to make ends meet. He wouldn't suspect it from someone as loyal to him as you are and finally-" He took a step forward, letting his aura do the talking. It was calm but held such killer intent that it could dominate the senses, probably why he felt her body language switch to a more defensive one. He wore a rather eerie smile on his face as the sun shined down, hiding his eyes but only barely. They seemed to glow with a deep magenta as the shade of his hood covered them.

"Because I am giving you them directly from me...from my own self. There is no middle man in this deal to inject you with a serum or give you cybernetic enhancements. My own powers, given to you in order to help aid you. I kept most of my powers out of sight of the director because he would see me as a threat rather then an ally or a hero and I prefer to stay alive then fall at the hands of The Guardian or Angel Grace or any of those heroes" He held venom in his words when he mentioned the two of them as well as heroes. He backed away and decided to sit down next to the memorial, gesturing for her to join. His smile dispersed as he sighed, glancing over to her.

"Let me go back to what I meant by us being able to see the darkness in the light...We were born into it and raised by it. I was nothing more than a child when I watched my parents murdered right before my eyes and soon I found myself living like those that killed my parents. It wasn't until later in life when my eyes were finally open did I truly see what I needed...and that was help, an escape from the darkness. I started off as a vigilante and gained a reputation for it. Soon enough the director crossed my path and I found myself mesmerized by his words, by what he stood for. And for a long time I believed him. I fought bad guys all the time and the occasional alien that landed its ugly ass on this planet until he asked something from me, something that would change me into the person I am now. He wanted me to go back into that underground as an undercover hero. I agreed because I wanted to destroy the darkness in the light, the light that became the city I lived in. But soon I began to see the city for what it was and how even light can cast shadows but I was within one large shadow...the director's." He pulled out another smoke and lit it. He let out a light chuckle.

"You're from Ukraine, da? You know true darkness. The corrupt that roamed the streets. Murders, thieves, rapists and a bunch of other shadows that cast their darkness over Ukraine's light. So for me to summarize what I meant by the darkness and the light I simply mean... You and I see the cup half empty where other's see the cup half full. "Pessimist" is the word I believe but in this case it's not about being pessimistic, its about pointing out the flaws in society that need to be eradicated, the darkness in the light. Same goes with this...If the Hero Association allows for such blatant exploitation, who says this won't cause more harm than good in the long run?" He glanced over, his eyes still glowing that same eerie color.

"I'm only offering this once...And whether you agree to it or not the plan will still continue with or without you Director Sokolov but if you decide to, all I ask is for your loyalty to the cause..." Clearing his throat he stood up, moving in front of her and lending her a hand to help her up.

"What will it be Violet..." That smile returned as he awaited her response whether it was verbal, physical...or both.

---

"Angel looked up to see another newcomer and she gave a light smile.

"Hello..." Her eyes lit up when the woman spoke of playing her in a role and she nearly squeeled.

"Ohhhh that's amazing I must watch this film is it new? Who else is in it? Were you sure to add in my fiery yet sweet personality?!" Guardian had sorta leaned away from Angel as she had her ego boost. For Allister however, he simply waved her off.

"While I appreciate it there's no need for all that attention. WWe're just doing our jo-"

"JOBS LIKE BADASSES!" With a fist out in front and fire in her eyes, Angel let out her excitement.

"I never thought I would be so inspiring! That's awesome! I never thought I could make such an impact! I gotta see this movie now!" Soon enough the squealing of excitement began to which Guardian simply shook his head in defeat. The question of how she was his mother started to bubble in his mind.

Ana's smile grew brighter by two watts. "The shoot was a couple years ago. Actually, it was my debut roll, 'A Tale of Light and Fire.' It was only a secondary part, but I like to think I played it well regardless."

Crossing the room towards Dreadlock, Ana set the medical bag on the bedside table and opened it. Looking curiously over the teenager next to the bed, she nevertheless removed gauze and some vials of medicine, checking the labels carefully. She then deftly and silently worked at treating Dreadlock's burns, applying the burn ointment and wrapping the wounds with the gauze. While she was working, she noticed that her patient wasn't even twitching at her touch.

With slightly shaking fingers, Grace removed a pen light from the bag without thinking about the impropriety of what she was doing. She was no doctor, but it looked like this woman hadn't been seen yet. Carefully lifting her eyelid with one finger, Ana shined the light at the hero's eye, checking the result against the pictures of several medical textbooks in her mind. Next she felt for a pulse, checked the hero's temperature against her own (always strictly 95 degrees), and finally tested Dreadlock's knee reaction, all without disturbing either her or her high-school matron. Calmly, she replaced everything in the bag, pushed herself back from the bed, and released her hold on her emotions.

Then she started to cry.

@FallenTrinity@Norschtalen@Emuxe

Emily Daniels smiled as she cut into the carrot. She heard footsteps and her smile grew as her two kids reached the bottom of the stairs and entered the kitchen. “Hey, mom, what’s for dinner?” asked her seven year old son, Hank.

Her four year old, Sally, drummed out a beat on the side of the counter with her toy maracas.

“Soup,” she said, “but it won’t be ready for a while. Plus, we don’t want to start eating before your dad brings your older sister back from soccer practice.”

“But I’m hungry...” Hank whined. ...“Well, I guess you can have a few carrots...” said Emily as she reached grabbed a slice and gave Hank and Sally each a piece.

“Thanks mom!” said Hank, and with that, he and Sally ran back upstairs.

Emily finished cutting the carrots, and then got on her knees and rifled through where they kept the cans. Where were the canned potatoes? She could have sworn that she had taken them out with the other groceries. Maybe she had accidentally put them in the closet. She stood, but felt a strange pressure on the back of her neck.

“Don’t move,” said a man’s voice in a hushed whisper. She froze.

“Your kids seemed cute. Hank and Sally? They really love you. If Joseph and Rachel love you half as much, you’re a lucky woman. But it would be horrible for them to walk in and see their mother’s brains on the floor.”

“What do you want? Money? Just… don’t kill me. I-I know people that would hunt you down if you so much as touch me and my family.”

“I know. Why don’t we talk about these people you know? It seems like you have pretty good friends. Friends your husband doesn’t know about. But if I was in a gang, I wouldn't tell anyone either.”

“You’re ridiculous. What gang?” she hissed

“Don’t play dumb with me Emily. Or should I call you Green?”

“How- How do you know-”

“Did you know that there is a warehouse up north that has a little bit of paperwork that traced back to you? I thought you were maybe a small piece of the puzzle at best, but the more I researched, the more I found out about you. All sorts of money was managed by you. In fact, I’d venture to guess you’re in charge of the money. Am I wrong?”

Emily didn't respond.

“Now, I know you know a lot. And I know you won’t tell me everything, even if I threaten your life. Because even if I let you live, if you told me everything you knew, then you’d still be killed. So, I’m giving you some extra incentive. You know those flowers up stairs that Joseph got you? And that little stuffed giraffe that Sally probably sleeps with every night? And the closet that Hank keeps his clothes in? This controller I’m holding will make all of those explode. Everything upstairs will be destroyed. Or, rather, everyone.”

“You sick bastard,” Emily muttered.

The man pressed the gun harder against the back of her head. “No, I’ll tell you who the sick bastard is. Orange. Kidnapping the twins just so he could mount my head on a wall to show that he killed an S-Class hero.”

Emily smirked. “Oh, you’re Mrs. Pickles? You think you can stop a whole gang? You’re a joke. You can’t take down the Rainbow Gang.”

“Maybe Mrs. Pickles can’t stop you. But he’s not trying to take down the Rainbow Gang. Because when the Rainbow Gang kidnapped Cynthia and Collin, they didn’t piss off Mrs. Pickles. They pissed off Clarence. So I suggest you start talking.”

“I don’t know where Orange is, or the twins. But I know someone who would know where the twins are.”

“Who?”

“Red. He’s hanging out in the park for a smoke. He’ll probably be there for the next half hour.”

“You better be telling the truth. Because if you’re lying, I won’t kill you. I’ll kill your husband. And your three kids. Do I make myself clear?”

She nodded.

“And here, you might want to have the… ‘remote.’”

The man thrust a can of potatoes into her hand and left before she could turn around.

**************************************************************************************************************************

@Melkor

Gerald sprinted away from the park. He knew there was a hero nearby doing something… what was it…? An interview! That’s right! Wasn't it Ventus? Yes, it was definitely Ventus. His sister in law had talked about filming the interview... now, he just needed to get there. Hopefully, he wouldn't be too late…

Gerald burst into the studio and interrupted the interview. The camerawoman looked at the man, confused. “Gerald, what are you doing here?”

Gerald ignored his sister and law and spoke directly to Ventus.

“City X… park… fight… fire… Mrs. Pickles… gang… help…”

With that, the man fell to his knees, exhausted, panting, and out of breath.

S H I N D O "F L A S H F O R W A R D" T S U B A S A

---

^{HQ --> Just out of HQ}

@FallenTrinity

With the report done, Shindo stood up and then began to walk out of the HQ. He had nothing else to do after all. Then someone called out to him. He turned to the woman who was at the counter. She motioned for him to go closer so he did. She then alerted him that if Evan were to pass the evaluation that would move him to A-Class, then he would move up a rank and become the top B-Ranked hero. He was confident that Evan could do it. With his track record, he was sure that it won't be too difficult for him. He made sure to make a mental note to congratulate Evan on a later note once his rank up was confirmed. The green haired male thanked the woman for telling him and then he left. He took off his jacket and turned it inside-out so it was only a simple grey jacket and he wore it again. He placed the mask in the inside pocket where it could be hung.

So Evan finally decided to move up a class huh? Good for him. He always did deserve the title. Though, regrettably, Shindo had to move up a rank as well and soon enough, he would be offered the same thing. While he did most of the hero work just for quota, he still apparently does a good job with it. Though he wasn't as appreciated as the others, this was as much exposure as he wanted. He can't go sneaking around to find where Yumi is if people recognize him and flock around him. Stealth would be the last thing he could do after that! It's also the main reason why he never tells anyone (except for a very few trusted people and the heroes in the association) of his identity as a hero.

He caught a glimpse of Violet Reaper and... another person, a hero? He couldn't tell who it was since he had a hood up and they weren't exactly very close to them. Maybe it was VR's friend or something. Shindo continued on, paying little mind to that but also making a mental note about it. Who knows, it may become useful in the future. If there was anything in this world that was important, it was information. Lack of information can lead to many failed cases in many fields - from science to criminology. In fact, lack of information was his problem with Yumi's case. No one knew where she was, what happened to her or who was the last person who had seen her. It was infuriating. These were the times he was actually mad at those working in the side of justice. They didn't know jack about things. They didn't know who pulled the strings. They're too focused on doing what's "good" to even consider that maybe a little illegal dealing here and there would help them in a much bigger case.

Shindo sighed. He looked forward once more and nearly bumped into a man in a jacket with his hood up. The green haired male quickly dodged to the right as to avoid colliding with him. Good thing too, the guy didn't look like he was someone to be messed with. "Sorry about that." He quickly said. He then noticed something... odd. The jacket looked familiar, even the pose looked familiar. He was sure he had seen him somewhere before. Or maybe it was just him. His face clicked into place and Shindo realized that he was actually a hero. Yeah, maybe that's why he seemed so familiar. "Ah, it's you Sinister. Reporting for duty again?" He asked, giving him a small bow of his head as respect for the higher ranking male.

Niflheim felt as if she were going insane from the moral battle that was going on inside of her, making her stomach lurch. The director was mad, that was clear enough. But she still swore loyalty to the Hero Academy, and disobeying him was disobeying the Academy. What if this didn't work? She would have hurt for nothing.

But if it did work, she would have the power. She could truly make a difference, and rid this place of evil once and for all! She would be a true hero, really worth something.

Niflheim still believed Sinnister was hiding something quite important from her, not giving her the full story. But she would keep an eye on him, in case anything went wrong. He could help her succeed in this wild plan, if he wasn't completely to be trusted.

The evil glint in his eye sent a shudder down the woman's spine. Maybe she should reconsider? She could step away now with clean hands.....

And still be under that pest Mrs. Pickles, where she doesn't belong.

The Violet Reaper bit her lip hesitantly, eyeing the man up once more, before holding out her hand to him. She stood, shaking it firmly. A soft smirk met her mouth as she whispered."That's director, to you."

They looked towards Anna and Grace was the first to console her.

"There there child." Guardian spoke up as Grace held Anna.

"It's my fault. The monster in City T needed to be stopped and I was working with some lower ranked members of B and A classes. I didn't want to take it out myself even though I most certainly could have. But that's not how I operate. I try to make it fair for everyone and so I offered to help them with a final blow, using my Judgement and Execution...My best attack. Dread was supposed to let go of the alien when the hammer fell...I didn't take into account the voltage of-" He looked down and away.

"I should have just done this myself...There was no need to involve others in the fight. It was an unneeded action. I could have killed-"

"It doesn't matter now Alley...What's done is done. There's nothing that we can do to fix it. I could try to reverse the damage but not without the risk to her." Grace sighed as she slightly released Anna to glance at Dread.

"She has a lot now to work towards. Her life has been changed and the best we can do is support her and hope for the best but the way the doctors described it, she may never walk again but we can pray for her in the hopes that she does recover."

---

"Yo! Watch where the fuck you're wal- oh its you..." With a fist clenched he turned around and barked out at the intruder of his personal face and the one who bumped into him only to stop when he saw Flash. Clearing his throat he pulled out a cigarette and lit it, exhaling a small trail before giving a light nod.

"Sorta. Talk around town and underground is that there is a potential uprising in the works for HA. Should say within its ranks. This fucking promotion to that C rank scrub is the last fucking straw for many of us heroes and some are willing to take action. I've also been hearing rumors that the Reaper may be one of them but then again...They're only rumors so who the fuck knows. All I know is I'm staying the fuck outta it. If I was to even TRY to attempt such a thing I might as well start finding a nice comfy bench somewhere to start resting my head because ill be out of a job with nothing to fall back onto." He glanced over to a few heroes walking by. Some glanced over and quirked a brow before returning to their path and others with cautious looks. He sighed.

"Shit's about to hit the fucking fan and I do not want to be on the receiving end of that shit. Take some advice from me. Trust no one right now. It'll keep you safe..." He stood there for a bit longer before dropping his cig on the ground, extinguishing its cherry.

"So...What do you think about this whole thing, hm?"

---

"Excellent, Director...Now, come with me and we'll give you that power boost. I'm not about to do it here in the open.."

She accepted, adding Director into her response only filled him with glee. With that out of the way, he lead her to a nearby alleyway on an even less crowded street if crowded could be even used for such a desolate street. Here, he moved to one of the many alleyways, gesturing for her to go first. His hand pressed against the corner of one of the buildings before letting go as a tendril like wall began to close them in. On the outside of it, it would simply appear as a bricked up area. The alley darkened slightly and Jayce's actions seemed to change slightly. His lazy walk had become more predatorial, his strides with more grace than physically possible, his muscles coiled like vipers ready to move at a moments haste. His glowing magenta eyes had turned crimson red and quite visible from the blackness of the shadow.

"Remember what I told you Violet...The powers I give you come from me meaning I have to give you them but not out in the open like that. You see, I brought you here for a reason. Confidentiality is very important to me and I would like to keep it that way you see-" As he moved closer, the skin on his arm seemed to peel away as smoky looking tendrils began to seep out. His jacket's material began to ripple as it too split, seeming to take a life of its own. These small tendrils were accompanied by larger ones, some whipping around like a flame in a breeze. His smile seemed to shine from behind his hood.

Ana furiously wiped the tears from her face as she tried to regain her self control, not by tinkering with her brain chemistry but the healthy, normal way.

"B-but she could ha-have done so much more. She-e's a hero, she spent her life for other people, and now it's ru-ruined. There has to be someone who can fix this, surely!" Ana's sorrow was turning to anger at the injustice in front of her. Dreadlock was a hero, and she had been rewarded with suffering. Ana was a thief, and even if she had been in the same position, her condition would have been a mild inconvenience for a few days, maximum.

With my abilities, I can heal any wound in minuites. So why can't I help this person, this good person, through her accident?

Suddenly standing up so fast her chair fell over, Ana grabbed the medical bag and headed for the door, making the excuse that she 'needed some time alone.' Not that she needed to explain herself, she didn't even know those people. It wasn't likely they'd ever meet again. Pushing the bag into the arms of a passing nurse, she pushed past a wealthy looking man complaining about not being attended, even though he looked barely injured. He didn't even glance at her in the busy hallway, a mistake he was sure to regret later.

She waited until she was outside and down a nearby alley before she changed, her features flowing from Ana to Jester, though still wearing normal clothes. She frowned as she opened her hand partway, a shiny gold pocket watch falling to the end of the chain between her fingers. With that and the man's wallet, she should be able to afford the medical books and equipment she thought she needed.

"Who wears a pocket watch these days, really." She muttered to herself, heading off to find her favorite fence. As luck would have it, he typically hung out around this area. Hopefully he hadn't gotten caught up in the destruction.

@FallenTrinity@Norschtalen

S H I N D O "F L A S H F O R W A R D" T S U B A S A

---

^{Just out of HQ}

@FallenTrinity

Shindo was quite surprised that Sinnister didn't just continue on walking after accepting his apology. Though the news he shared was certainly worrying. He hasn't heard about this rumor yet, but that only means he hasn't been listening close enough. An uprising? Within the ranks of HA? Ha, they must be crazy. Though... it wasn't really a far-fetched idea. Mr. Pickles's rank up just blew the cap. He guessed that a lot of heroes were angered by this. He knew Violet Reaper was. A C-rank drunkard who has no powers gets a rank up to S-class because he "single-handedly" destroyed both aliens. He... He honestly could understand why they would be angry. He didn't feel the anger, but he certainly understood where they were coming from. For someone who worked hard for so many years trying to appeal to the director of HA to get a rank-up and they would merely get a higher rank and rarely move up a class. And they spent years for that. Mr. Pickles spent, what? A few months? Shindo was quite sure that he wasn't in the hero job for too long. He was pretty sure that he was a hero longer than Mr. Pickles.

But something else worried him. It was that Violet Reaper was one of them. He respected the hero too much to even believe this rumor. She was a hero who valued justice. She wouldn't dare do any of that. Or would she? She was angered by his jump and probably doesn't like the director very much... Shindo wasn't quite sure anymore. For this to happen all of a sudden, something else must be brewing. Someone must be pulling the strings - if these were all true. But rumors had to come from somewhere. There must be some sort of basis to it. He should know. Sinnister seemed to get the idea that if they were to retaliate, something bad might come out of it... like losing their jobs. The Association gives them a crap ton of money per year, it's how Shindo's paying for his tuition fees and necessities so he wouldn't burden his parents any longer. Without that, well, a lot of people became heroes for a reason - money sometimes being part of it. So if they were to rebel against the director, then they should be prepared for the consequences.

Sinnister's advice was sound. "Don't trust anyone." It was a phrase he knew far too well. As a man who's searching for someone underground, he knew trust was such a fickle thing. The only way to gain allegiances were through money, your use or same intentions. He could imagine that even in the hero industry, it was still the same.

Then the inevitable question came. "I know where they're coming from. Angered by the irresponsible actions of our director can surely add fuel to their already flaming harts." Shindo stopped, placing his hands in his pockets and then swept his eyes around the other heroes who were leaving HQ. "A lot of heroes don't like it. I can tell that much." He then took a deep breath. "I'd rather not get involved though. Their feelings, their movement, their problem. They can overthrow the director if they so wish; though the only thing I ask of it is that they do not trudge the same path as our director, if they hate him so much."

He looked back at Sinnister, eyes hardened as he said, "I despise hypocrites."

V E N T U S

---

“Do you think that the recent developments have set a precedent for future promotions within the H.A.?” The interview had progressed for about ten minutes by then.

“From my perspective; just because people don't understand reasons for things, it doesn't follow that those things are wrong. The way I see it, everyone is upset that a,” Geoff made air quotes, “‘Newbie’ has passed them in the rankings… some aren't upset or simply don't care. I fall into the second category. But ultimately, just because someone doesn't understand something, that doesn't make it false or incorrect.” The audience applauded his remarks with as much enthusiasm as they could muster - it seemed that the audience always did that.

“Alright, we're entering the last thirty minutes of our hour long interview with Dr. Burr, the S-Class hero, Ventus. We're going to take a short commercial break.” He turned to Ventus and asked, “Should we start talking about something else? You don't look like you're enjoying this topic.” His microphone had been cut, so to the viewers it looked like they were miming as the commercials started.

“It's your interview Harry, I'm here to answer your questions.” Geoff chuckled.

“Well, I've had it with these questions, we'll start a new topic when we come back.” With that he got up and made his way to the refreshment cart, near the stage, and began filling a cup of joe. There was a teleprompter stationed next to the main camera, out of shot, that displayed the time until they were live again. Less than two minutes to go.

Geoff didn't really do much for the last two minutes besides drink a glass of water. When the countdown had finally reached the last 20 seconds, everyone began taking their seats again as the crewman counted, “10… 9… 8… … 4… 3… 2… 1… and we're live.”

The camera panned over the audience then turned back to the stage. “And we're back with Dr. Burr.” Geoff nodded for him to continue. “We have some questions from the internet.” Harry picked up a tablet and tapped its screen a few times. “This one comes from our Reddit AMA thread; ‘Ventus, since you’re such a strident atheist, what would convince you of God’s existence? And why are you so adamant about breaking the idea down? Isn’t it like telling a child that Santa doesn’t exist?’” Harry put the tablet down and looked at Geoff, “What would convince you that God exists?”

Geoff couldn’t help but crack a bit of a smile, the idea of a God that controlled everything and created everything and listened to prayers was ridiculous to him. “It's almost impossible to use 'strident' and 'atheist' is separate sentences, they just go together." He chuckled. "Well… First off - which god are you talking about..?" Some applaud. "The thing is, I used to think that I would be convinced if the clouds parted...” He smirked more and the crowd laughed as he made grand gestures of the clouds parting, “... and a voice said something like, ‘I EXIST!’. But when I think about it… what would make more sense? That I’m actually hearing the voice of God in the clouds or that I’m hallucinating? I don’t think that anything but proper measurable and testable material evidence would convince me of any supernatural nonsense like that.” The crowd applauded, but there were a noticeable group who didn’t and positively looked angry that anyone would say something about their god in that way. “As far as the Santa thing goes… well… funny thing is - kids manage to grow out of Sant-” The skeptics in the crowd burst into laughter and applause.

The noise from the crowd masked the commotion of a man bursting into the studio, seemingly out of breath. “City X… park… fight… fire… Mrs. Pickles… gang… help…” The man collapsed, frazzled, as the crew rushed over to either try to throw him out or help him, Geoff couldn’t tell. But he stood up.

“Eh, Geoff, what are you doing..?” Harry seemed weary of the situational change.

“I’m going to City X, there’s apparently a fire in a park and Mrs. Pickles needs some help with a gang fight… weren’t you listening?” With that, an applauding crowd and a dumb-struck Harry, Geoff began levitating again and he shot out of the studio, quickly exiting through the door the man had taken to get in. City X… that’s not too far… Geoff began to launch himself toward City X, the wind causing his hair and his coat-tails to flip around wildly.



It only took a few minutes for him to arrive in City X and only a few seconds for him to spot the billowing towers of smoke rising from the North Park area. He knew his first priority would be to put out the flames before they spread. There were already emergency services arriving on the scene. A few fire-trucks and police vehicles. Geoff set himself to hover above the park and he could hear gunshots, he put a weak barrier around himself. It wouldn't’ deflect a shot but it would render it useless.

He focused on the base of one of the smoke pillars, where he knew there would be a raging fire, and removed the air from the area - starving the flames. He did this until they were all put out, then he began to zero-in on the fighting and tried to find Mrs. Pickles.