Almost immediately as Reaper's hand touched Sinnister's, a cold feeling ran down her spine, menacing and dark. There was this evil energy about him... no, that was impossible. He is as much of a hero as she is, she should not assume darkness in him.

Still, Violet Reaper hesitated to follow him, lips pursed tight as less and less people were near them. How exactly did he plan to transfer these powers of his anyway? Niflheim found herself growing more and more wary, to the point when she stepped into the narrow alley she was a flick of the muscle away from seizing her scythe.

Cautiously, the Ukrainian woman turned, watching a black inky tendril draw a brick curtain over the alley entrance. Niflheim tensed, golden eyes flashing in alarm. The same tendrils ripped skin and material to shreds like confetti, crimson eyes to match the blood on his arm glinting at her through the blackness. Without waiting, Hell's Mirror was torn from the place on her back, shining with it's violet light of the small flame always burning on the top of its staff. Niflheim was in an offensive stance, eyes kept locked on the tendrils slithering around his arm. "What is that? What are you doing?" She demanded, golden eyes piercing accusingly. Was this really Sinnister? Violet Reaper had a feeling she had just gotten herself in more trouble than this was worth. Her hand tightened around her scythe's staff, she gently whispering:

"Ignite."

The blade bursted into fantastic flames of violet, shining light on her face and creating flickering shadows around them. "I think you should start explaining this power transferring process fast, I'm known to be trigger happy." She warned curtly, watching his every movement with precise glares. Whatever this was, Niflheim wasn't going down without a fight. If her soul was being sent to Hell, then she's dragging this bastard down with her.

Mrs. Pickles was sprawled out on the ground, coughing violently. Red was standing over him, softly panting. Years of smoking, being around vehicles emitting endless amounts of toxic fumes, and being in cruddy bars full of smokers had made Red’s lungs essentially immune to the smoke entering his throat and nose.

Red brought his boot upwards, and then, using his muscular leg, smashed his foot violently into Mrs. Pickles’ already damaged rib cage, and Clarence coughed up blood.

“Pathetic. Really. S class my ass. I’ll tell you what. After I finish you off, I’ll take those two cute kids, and then peel their skin off. Use it as a jacket. Are you glad that happened? If you hadn’t been such a poser, you’d be okay.”

Mrs. Pickles tried to speak, but all that came out was blood, smoke, and coughs. Red kicked him again.

“Ah, enough of this…” Red smiled and pulled out a revolver. “Made me lose my cigarette, got most of my gang arrested or killed because of the damned fire you started. Now, it’s time for you to die-”

Suddenly, one of the fire trucks blasted a stream of water directly through the flames and straight into Red, who was sent to the ground by the water pressure. This is the same stream that gave Ventus a view. Mrs. Pickles took advantage of the opportunity, and rushed towards his backpack. He grabbed the hunting rifle, and aimed it at Red. But Red had recovered and was barreling towards Mrs. Pickles. Clarence fired one shot, but it was too late. He missed, and Red snagged Mrs. Pickles’ gun and tossed it aside.

“Luck will only get you so far,” smiled Red. He grabbed Mrs. Pickles by the throat, and slowly began pushing the hero backwards, towards the flames. Mrs. Pickles struggled, and managed to send himself and Red to the ground. Mrs. Pickles head ended up with his head in his own backpack, and as he struggled to get out of it, Red grabbed him by the collar, punched him in the gut, and then began strangling Mrs. Pickles again...

*Shift to Ventus' POV*

At first, there didn’t seem to be anything eventful going on, with the exception of the fire, when suddenly a rough man wearing a leather jacket emerged from the fire, coughing. The police approached him, and he tried to run, but after about ten seconds of jogging, the man realized that his lungs were too full of smoke to get far, and he stopped and allowed himself to be arrested. A couple others were chased briefly by the police, all of them wearing red, and most of them wearing outfits that bikers would typically wear. They were, like the first man that emerged, quickly arrested.

Ventus could not hear much over the roar of flames and the sirens, however, he did hear officers shouting the words fire, gang, rainbow, and red over the noise.

Ventus was glancing down at the park, using his abilities to clear some of the fire, and saw a fire truck splash tons of water on a certain portion of the park. Steam spiraled into the air, and Ventus could suddenly see something… two figures in the center of the park… he couldn’t hear much or see the details of what was going on… but he could see two figures moving around and struggling...

*Return to Mrs. Pickles*

“You are useless. So weak… if you’re a hero, then, hell, I am, too!”

Red laughed at that, and then tossed Mrs. Pickles directly into the fire, like a rag doll. Red smiled as Clarence's cries rang out, above the roar of the flame and the sirens. Police officers and firemen stopped and listened as they heard the screams of a man being burned alive. The screaming pierced Ventus’ ears.

Red turned around, chuckling to himself, and then began to walk away. He was about to make a clean exit through a pathway that was nearly void of flames, when Mrs. Pickles suddenly emerged from the fire, completely shirtless, and tackled Red to the ground. Mrs. Pickles punched Red over and over again, but it didn’t make a difference. Mrs. Pickles’ knuckles began to bleed.

Red pushed Mrs. Pickles off of him, and soon Mrs. Pickles was pinned to the floor and Red was punching Mrs. Pickles over and over again. Now, the sound of bones breaking rang in Clarence's ears as Mrs. Pickles suffered punch after punch to his jaw.

Red spat on Mrs. Pickles twitching body, grinning wickedly.

“Well, I have to give you some credit. I don't know how the hell did you survived that fire. Well, it doesn’t matter. You’ll never walk after a punch like…”

Mrs. Pickles slowly pulled himself to his feet.

“What? How?”

Mrs. Pickles spat on Red’s boots. Blood now soaked the gang member’s shoes.

Red punched Mrs. Pickles in the gut again. Mrs. Pickles was flung to the ground, and then stood up once more. And the cycle continued.

Ventus soon had cleared enough of the fire too get an excellent view of Red abusing Mrs. Pickles. Soon, Mrs. Pickles was covered in bruises and nasty cuts, and clearly had multiple broken bones. Sure, Red was tiring from having to punch the man so much, and his knuckles were bruising, but Mrs. Pickles was tiring more quickly. If Ventus didn’t do something, Mrs. Pickles would probably pass out soon… but a question would still remain in Ventus’ brain… how had Mrs. Pickles survived being thrown into the fire?!?!

*An explanation*

Mrs. Pickles’ face slammed into his bag, and he struggled to pull himself out… ugh.. This guy was tough. But he couldn’t back down. Wouldn’t back down. Argh, his face hurt though. What had he slammed into?

Then, he realized what had happened.

My whiskey! Damn it! Mrs. Pickles had fallen head first into the alcohol he had been saving for later. He felt a hand around his throat, and then was spun around wildly as small amount of glass punctured his face.

Air, air, air. That was all Mrs. Pickles could think of. The smoke. The hand around his throat. And then, suddenly, he was flung into the fire…

He screamed, expecting pain to fill his body. But then, he registered what was going on. He wasn't dead.

When Mrs. Pickles had been thrown into the fire, he had been covered in alcohol. As the alcohol burned away, Mrs. Pickles remained, relatively unharmed. Realizing this, Mrs. Pickles dashed out of the flames as he pulled his burning shirt off and then tackled Red...

*But now…*

Mrs. Pickles was groaning, pain enveloped his body. He couldn’t breathe. The smoke, although it had lessened, was still in the air. Plus, his ribcage had, essentially, been placed in a blender, and then sloppily thrown back into his body. His lungs were in an awkward position. He had also had the wind knocked out of him several times. Breathing also required his mouth and nose to move ever so slightly, and his nose had been dislocated, and his jaw was broken. He couldn’t even speak.

His hands were terrible bruised from punching Red, and he had several burn marks on them and his legs. The lower portion of his pants had been singed, and he had a third degree burn near his ankle. His skull had even suffered a slight fracture on the surface, simply from one of Red’s punches. His left arm was dislocated, and his right arm had snapped at the beginning of the fight.

Mrs. Pickles was pinned again by Red, who stretched Mrs. Pickles leg and put a great deal of pressure on it. *Snap!*

Mrs. Pickles cried out as his femur bone was snapped and his knee shattered and then threw Mrs. Pickles to the ground. Shaking, he laid in a fetal position for a moment, but then composed himself. Again, he stood up. As long as his heart was pounding, Mrs. Pickles was fighting.

V E N T U S

---

Because of amazing timing and placement with a water jet, Ventus had just spotted the man he'd been looking for, Mrs. Pickles. If not for himself, then for public image, he should really change his hero name to something more appealing… Air condensed and propelled him toward the scuffle on the ground between the two men. But, as things turned out, he'd spotted them too late to prevent damage to Pickles. He could clearly see several broken bones and snapped limbs. The moment he was within range, Ventus compressed the air between the two and gently removed Pickles from the fight and harshly threw the man in red against a collapsed tree trunk. He heard the sharp crack as something broke.

“ARGH!” Red let out a agonizing howl of pain. Apparently something was broken. “Who the hell!-” he'd taken note of who his attacker was… he'd also taken note of the fact that it was just the two of them and that he had a broken bone from one, not, attack. He was outmatched.

“So, to be clear, your plan was to kill one of the Hero Association’s most newsworthy heros on the same day of his big promotion and get away with it? Frankly it's a bad plan… everyone would know that it was you. I mean it's not even dark yet!” Ventus gestured around them. As the smoke cleared more and more, sun rays began to break through the smog. “So, red, you'll be coming with me.”

“The hell I will-” the fact that he resisted was simply not relevant. Ventus had a grasp on him and he was escorting both of the combatants to the ambulances and the police vehicles.

Ventus had noticed movement, just a bit too slow, as the man in red and pulled an automatic pistol out of his biker leathers. He aimed it and let off several shots. His aim was poor and those that would have done some damage, just bounced off of Ventus’, now blackening, coat as though they were weak rock throws. His air barrier was still in place. Soon enough the Red character was in custody, no doubt he'd make bail.

In the meantime, Ventus had transported Pickles to one of the ambulances where the paramedics rushed to get his body stabilized, the got him onto a stretcher and began the rush to the hospital. Geoff had elected to ride in the back of the ambulance, just in case bikers showed up.

“The fact of the matter, Clearance, is that you stood your ground. It's not about winning or losing. It's about doing what is right…”

---

When the ex-military man entered the room, Evan felt a bit tense just from looking at the unsettling expression on his face. Clearly, he must have done something wrong to upset the higher ups. With his hands on his lap, Evan clenched onto his pants bracing himself for the bad news. When the man uttered out his first words, asking Evan about what he 'knows'. He used this opportunity to open his mouth in attempt to respond back, but that was quickly denied when the man continued to speak.

Evan listened in carefully, not wishing to upset him. There was no end to the man's demands and nonsensical ramblings, which made Evan confused for the most part, but at the same time he felt intimidated by what he was going to do with his skin. Just when he thought it was safe to speak, the man yelled at him once more like a drill instructor and made Evan lean back further into his chair with a comical sour look on his face. He quickly nodded his head liked a frightened child and let out a stressful sigh, finally having a chance to speak.

"I-I don't know what you're talking about, sir! Am I being interrogated about the aliens?! I already sent in my report just a few minutes ago! I thought this meeting was for my promotion! But, if you must know...the alien had two giant claws and looked more like a crab than anything! Ventus, Flash Forward, Violet Reaper, Pumpkin Witch, Mrs.Pickles and myself all took part in the battle! I'm not sure if the alien had a name...or a mother for that matter...or any of that other stuff you mentioned...also sir, your hand." He pointed out, noticing the man had injured his hand and felt somewhat concerned.

Evan paused for a moment as he looked up at the man, thinking he wasn't going to satisfied by his response.

"AH! But I can tell you my information instead! My name is Evan Smiles! I have a twin sister named Lily. We were both born on December 27th, approximately at 12:03pm! My sister is considered the eldest because she was technically born first! My late mother's name is Amelia and she went by her hero name 'Amy'. My favorite color is pink and my sister likes blue! I like to put mustard on my hot dogs, but my sister likes to put ketchup on hers! My blood type is B positive! I like to listen to JPop and watch anime! My favorite place to eat is at Sushi Castle! I like pineapples AND anchovies on my pizza at the same time! I put milk in the bowl before the cereal! I go to a cosplay meetup with my friends in City A once a week! Everyday I feed the stray cats behind my apartment! I don't like going to the beach because I hate getting sunburn! Or any kind of burns on my skin for that matter, so I avoid cooking my own food! I'm usually home before the sun sets! And..." Evan stopped there and clenched onto his chest. Trying to catch his breath from speaking so fast without pausing, but it was clear that he could go on and on about his personal life.

"W-Water please..." He requested.

Paramedics flocked around Mrs. Pickles, bandaging wounds and stabilizing broken bones as he was loaded into the ambulance and placed in a stretcher. Clarence remained conscious, writhing in pain, until a paramedic administered an anesthetic.

Clarence realized that the paramedic was putting him under, and squirmed slightly. He moved his hand to his pocket and shakily removed his wallet. He opened it up and grasped something within it, and then dropped the wallet to the ground. He was trying to speak, but couldn’t because of his broken jaw. An EMT retrieved the wallet, but whatever Clarence had grasped had fluttered towards Ventus and landed near his feet. It was a folded up piece of paper. There was red splotches on it, and the edges appeared singed. Clarence squirmed a tad more, but it was no use. He fell asleep before the ambulance driver began to make his way towards the hospital.

“Broken lower jaw, broken femur, broken ribs… shattered ribs. I’m almost certain he has damaged lungs. Major blood loss,” muttered a paramedic. “Start with the lungs,” he said to one of the other paramedics. Ventus noticed the ambulance was somewhat crammed and hectic.

A paramedic placed an oxygen mask over Mrs. Pickle’s mouth. One paramedic -- the one who had been muttering earlier -- lifted his hand to hush the other paramedics and listened closely.

“He’s not breathing,” he said, with a surprising amount of calm. Then, he stopped again. “No, no, he’s breathing. Slowly. Too slowly.”

Oxygen was pumped into Clarence’s body. The calm paramedic frowned.

“This doesn’t make any sense. Why is his heart…”

Clarence began to seize violently, and one paramedic pinned him down as the calm one spoke deliberately. “His heart's going to stop. Or try to. He’s-”

The calm paramedic shuddered, and then cursed. “Who gave him anesthetic?”

None of the paramedics responded as Clarence continued to seize.

“I SAID, WHO GAVE HIM ANESTHETIC?!?”

None of the paramedics said anything.

“It was that one guy. You know, the bigger one. I thought you knew him. I thought he was on here. Guess he didn’t ride on the ambulance.”

The handful of paramedics in the ambulance briefly debated about the man who administered the anesthetics, but the calm paramedic quickly got everyone to be silent as Clarence continued to seize.

Clarence’s heart suddenly shut down, and the calm paramedic quickly performed CPR. The others did everything they could to help, and finally, right as they arrived at the hospital, Clarence was relatively stable. The paramedics were about to leave, but the calm paramedic stopped them and turned towards the driver. “Level B,” he said. The driver turned back. “I’ll get someone to bring masks.” The driver made a phone call. Afterwards, the driver of the ambulance turned back towards the calm paramedic. “Erm… may I ask why we’re all about to throw on gas masks?” he asked.

“Because Mrs. Pickles was just exposed to a great deal of cyanide… and we might have been too.”

“Cyanide?” asked the driver. The paramedic nodded. “Three clues. One, someone mysterious gave him an anesthetic. I have a hunch this was someone in disguise. Two, his heart stopped and he seized, both common side effects of cyanide expose. Thirdly, I don’t know if any of you can smell it, but it reeks of bitter almonds in here.”

Sweet Devil simply rolled her eyes at all the drama around her. Perhaps it may be rather callous, but there was no sense in crying over spilled milk. What happened to Dreadlock was horrible, but nowadays people had the technology to survive almost total body destruction. Heck, many people have simply uploaded their conscious into cyborgs so they could take damage that would utterly kill normal people. In Sweet Devil's mind, these people were lamenting their own mistakes instead of Dreadlock's condition, which she had very little interest in. It was only Dreadlock that Sweet Devil was here for. Everyone else was just a convenience.

"Not do downplay the grief you must be feeling, but if you wish to help why don't you look into some cybernetics or something? I've heard of heroes who's gotten body parts replaced with that sort of stuff after accidents on the job. I'd go look myself if I knew anyone. Surely a high ranking hero like yourself must know a person or two?" Sweet Devil mostly wanted to get these people out of the room so she could focus on weaving her control over Dreadlock's mind. Doing a Dreamwalk required leaving her body defenseless, and she didn't trust these people not to do something to her while she was out.

@FallenTrinity@Emuxe

Jayce stepped forward with a light smile before leaning in.

"Buddy I'm sorry to say but you don't have a say in whether or not you get involved. If this happens, the shit actually hits the fan, you're gonna have to make a choice. Pick a side and hope that you picked right because in the end we are nothing but pawns. Disposable little shits that can be dropped from the rankings at any moment. Start thinking about whose side you're on now because in the end, some are moving up and some are moving out. Money, fame, pensions, healthcare; You have a backup plan right? If you don't start making one. Advice from someone of the underground." He gave him a wink and a smirk before turning back towards HQ and started to walk away. He stopped and turned around, the seriousness on his face never so clear.

"I'm serious Shindo. I've seen this shit happen among gangs. It's the calm before the storm..." With that he turned away wit ha hand raised as a farewell gesture.

---

Small and thin tendrils from the wall behind him made its move across the existing bricks quietly but kept pace with him. Soon enough it would engulf the alleyway, in turn cornering Violet however at the moment he had hopes it wouldn't come to that. Each flicker of flame engulfing Hell's Mirror was watched by Sinister, a light grin on his face as he moved forward.

"And I get a little violent when threatened..." He quipped. He sighed and rubbed his temples as he begun to move forward.

"You know this is completely unfair. I offer you power and you do this...Turn your blade on me. That's not very nice." The tone of his voice playful at first before it got colder. He looked down at his palms as small tendrils peeled away and seemed hypnotized as they swayed back and fourth.

"It's quite simple actually but I don't know how you feel about intravenous processes..." The sounds of his shoes closing in on her were the only sounds echoing through the place. Soon he was in front of her, his eyes were hardened and the Violet flame flickering off he face fully now. His eyes seemed cold, and slightly distant in appearance with it a sense of awareness. Each muscle of Violets being analyzed and interpreted as her being nothing more than on the defense, waiting to see if he was to strike or if he was to turn against her. He didn't trust her still. It might've been the way he was acting but it wasn't easy to pleasant to have your skin peel away as it did.

"I managed to get you into a secluded area of the city that is hardly busy around this time of day and with it managed to corner you as well. Don't you think if I wanted to kill you I would have done so already? In fact when I shook you hand I could have killed you right then and there but guess what....I didn't. Now I suggest you put that scythe away and let's begin the process or do you plan on striking me?" His smirk stayed resting on his mouth as he awaited her response.

---

Sweet Devil brought up a sound idea and nodded as he stood.

"You're right...I've been too busy wallowing in guilt and not thinking about how to help. I may know some people and I can put a call out to a few people to see what I can do. Angel, can you wat-"

"I'll be talking to a few of the doctors to see what I can do to help. Maybe take a look at some of the x-rays and other tests for any discrepancies." Angel had left as well. The both of them had left Dread to Sweet Devil, but not before a very wordy threat came through from Angel if something bad were to happen to Dread.

However, from within the vent of the hospital room, a black millipede watched quietly as Sweet Devil and Dread remained in the room. If one looked closely, they could see the sinister smile on the millipede's face.

"I'm not putting anything away without an explanation." The Ukrainian woman stated firmly, she keeping herself at the ready. Every muscle was tended, ready to leap and shred the man in an instant of he showed any ill intent. Violet was already an untrusting person, how was she supposed to feel about being cornered in a dark alley by someone she barely knew, evil quite literally bursting from every pore.

The thought made her sick, it bringing up memories she didn't want to resurface. Other strange men had cornered her in alleyways when she was younger, but they didn't leave with their lives, and she didn't leave unharmed. This was too much alike, though this possible offender had strength and superhuman power behind him. It wouldn't be an easy fight like back in the Ukraine. She couldn't be the ona d'yavol, the she-devil, here.

And so Niflheim had right to be on edge. "You offer me power, but at what cost? If you think I'm naive enough to leave myself defenseless in the face of someone I barely met, you are dreadfully wrong. Now, what is this process? Tell me and I'll lay down my weapon, for I'll know what is to happen and I won't feel the need to attack."

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 --> Alleys}

@FallenTrinity

Shindo leaned back when Sinnister leaned in, out of instinct. He stared at him blankly, listening to every single word pouring out of the older male's mouth. A side? Pick a side? True, they were all getting involved whether they want it or not. He didn't want to get involved, he never wants to get involved whenever this happens. The green haired male had only followed orders because he needed to - because he needed the money and the fact that he can freely enter or exit certain establishments because of his hero license under the guise of an 'investigation'. It was, in a way, but not officially approved by anyone other than him.

"Advice I can surely appreciate." It was the only reply he gave the man before waving goodbye to Sinnister. He rubbed the back of his neck and let out a heavy sigh. What a great way to end the heroic day huh? News of rumors like this spreading around HA. He would need to lay low for a while again. He was sure that the villains had their eyes on them. They would somehow get this information - they always did. It would be too risky to perform any investigations for now. He needed to wait this out and hopefully nothing goes too wrong.

He balled his hands into fists and took another deep breath to calm himself down. He then smoothed down his jacket and then let out his breath in another sigh. He should do something worthwhile today, get him out of this mood and all. Doing something nice should do it. He continued his walk, taking one step after another like any other human being and he found himself weaving through the crowd. He blocked out the noise, finding himself growing a little irritated with how noisy everything was. It might just be his mood affecting what he feels about other actions people do. He needed to be around less people.

Shindo slipped into one of the alleys and got away from the crowd, thankfully enough. He adjusted the collar of his shirt, feeling like he was suffocating from the crowd and his own thoughts. He shook his head and continued down the alley with no destination in mind. Maybe he should just head back home and see if any of his parents have anything planned for him. Or maybe go and visit a friend maybe? Nah, they're probably busy with a lot of other crap. He could do the homework in less than two hours.

V E N T U S

---

This was the part where parents would typically say something like, “It's all fun and games until someone gets hurt…” Geoff knew that Pickles wasn't ready to take on the mantle of a S-Class hero. He didn't want to admit it, hiding behind a veil of apathy toward the situation. Now it was clear; there are reasons for the ranking system and for how rigorous it was to obtain S-Class.

Just look at the difference between Pickles fighting the red guy and Ventus fighting him. Fighting didn't describe it well enough, when Ventus showed up it was entirely one sided… Without the intention of gasconading; Geoff was a proper example of an S-Class hero… He'd sleep easier if Pickles was in B-Class…

There was the immediate situation as the ambulance shot down street after street, blowing through red-lights with its sirens blaring and lights revolving. Geoff’s thoughts were running wild as he was reassessing his position in the public statements he'd made only half an hour before, he was brought back to reality when Pickles’ heart stopped. He made as much room as he could to allow the paramedics free range in the cramped space.

Eventually they were able to restart his heart and it was determined that he'd probably been poisoned with cyanide. Someone had poisoned the broken man who lay on the stretcher… how had Geoff not noticed? The culprit must've been in disguise… Naturally Geoff couldn't be familiar with the City Z hospital staff… A better question was that none of the paramedics or the driver noticed a strange character administering ‘medication’ to a patient. The assassin is still here… That's how no one noticed anything… Our culprit is a paramedic... They'd arrived at the hospital.

Someone ran off to fetch masks as the hospital staff rushed out to retrieve their critical patient. Geoff followed as they brought him to an operating room. He was famous enough that no one questioned him as he was ushered into the observatory room where he had a good view of the operating table.

@Animal@Emuxe

“Water, eh? You know who drinks water? Convicts! Felons!”

The man sniffed.

“You had lots of detail. I’ll give you that. But only a cold hearted villain could make up that much nonsense on the spot! And what kind of a favorite color is p-”

“Sir!” exclaimed a voice from the door.

The man whirled around, furious. “Rule 22! Never interrupt me during an interrogation!”

“Sir, this is a hero. He’s interviewing. Not being interrogated.”

The man looked around, as if he had just woken up.

“Ah… oh… erm… yes. Interview. Yep. My bad. Well, you pass.”

“Sir, did you actually-”

“Hush. Well son, it would seem that your bravery has earned you a promotion-”

“-Sir-”

“Congratulations! You’re now a Class B, Rank 1 hero.”

“Sir, that’s his current rank.”

“Well of course it’s his current rank. That’s what I promoted him to!”

“Sir, why don’t you let the others perform the interview.”

“I suppose you’re right… that’s probably a good idea. I’m terrible at interviews.”

The older man walked out, and the man who had been speaking to him from the door entered. He was a young man, sharply dressed with a suit and tie. His nametag read “Nicholas” and he typically would be found holding doors open, fetching coffee, coordinating schedules, and doing all the annoying, tedious, and relatively unimportant, paperwork for his higher ups. Despite his position, Nicholas always seemed to be a tad… arrogant. However, he still managed to remain relatively polite most of the time.

“Don’t mind him. That’s ‘Sleepy’- or at least, that’s what we call him. He’s okay, he just gets… heated when he’s reminded of his glory days as a cop. After hero’s essentially took over and he became an over glorified traffic cop, he tries to make up situations to keep himself from getting bored. I’ll have someone else conduct the interview momentarily.”

@Melkor

Red’s arrival at the hospital had been surprisingly smooth, especially for a criminal. Red realized suddenly that this was the first time he had been arrested (as an adult) and suddenly felt a tad bit ashamed that his streak had ended in such a fashion.

However, he wasn’t in a sour mood for very long. First of all, he was quickly able to comfort himself when he realized that he would likely be allowed to walk out a free man with the help of Orange and his various connections.

Next, even the worst case scenario (being stuck in prison for a couple of years) wasn’t particularly scary. In fact, he felt that it could even serve as a nice break.

Finally, the nurse was also extremely comforting for… other reasons. She giggled at most of his jokes (even though they were awful… but Red didn’t know that), flirted with him, and made him nice and comfortable, even though he was chained to his own bed. Finally, after about fifteen or twenty minutes, the doctor left him, her, and the guard alone.

Suddenly the guard made eye contact with the nurse and there was some sort of exchange. That was… odd. But then, Red recognized the guard. An inside man. He’d trained the guy himself eight or nine months ago.

But what could a nurse have to do with the Rainbow Gang…?

He looked at the nurse, perplexed. “Who are you?”

She giggled. “I can’t believe you don’t recognize me! Although, I shouldn’t get offended.”

Her voice suddenly altered and became harsh, masculine, and deep. “Most people don’t…”

Red was still dumbfounded.

“I just change so much,” she said in her normal voice (but perhaps not so high pitched and flirty as before), “I can hardly recognize myself.” She sighed.

“So you’re Blue? I thought Blue was a dude,” said Red.

“I can be… but, no, I’m not. Biologically speaking. Anyways, I’ve been sent to have a quick chat with you.”

Red nodded.

“Orange is upset. Very upset.”

“What for? I did what he asked. Tried to kill Mrs. Pickles.”

“He doesn’t want you to draw attention to ourselves as we kill him. We’re not ready for that yet. Only afterwards.”

“Well, I saw an opportunity and I took it. He confronted me.”

“We know. That was another one of the many issues.”

“So what? I’ve never been the most secretive member of this gang before. Why is this becoming an issue now?”

“Sure, people would look at you and expect you were a gangster. How did this guy figure out the location of a leader? You got cocky. And you lost. You lost hard. And that loss is humiliating. We can’t suffer from this loss of respect amongst our members. I’m sure you of all people would understand the importance of human resources. After all, you used to be in charge of them.”

“Used to? Hold on. I am in charge of this. I’m part of the structure. You can’t just toss me in prison!”

“I never said you’d live long enough to get to prison.”

Two minutes later, the doctor returned, surprised to find Red’s corpse peacefully resting on the bed. The guard and nurse had both vanished without a trace.

Almost immediately afterwards, the doctor sprinted into the room containing Ventus and the paramedics.

“The man that Mrs. Pickles was fighting is dead. He was injected with a slew of medications that killed him. I think the nurse and his guard may have been involved somehow.”

“That’s the one we just hired, isn’t it?” asked the calm paramedic.

The doctor nodded vigorously. The calm paramedic cursed. “She could be anywhere right now…” he muttered.

...

Blue examined her fingernails as the guard drove her towards her apartment. Things had gone well. She just needed a call from-

Her phone vibrated. Blue smiled. There it was.

"Hello, Orange," said Blue.

"Talk." The voice was raspy.

"Red failed, as you know. I handled him. I tried to sneak in and have Mrs. Pickles inhale some cyanide gas, and that might have killed him. I wouldn't bet on it though. That moron was flailing around like a fish, and Ventus had an eye on him."

"Then as far as I'm concerned, he's still alive. I've been studying the S Classes for awhile. I am not willing to deal with Ventus as an enemy. The storm has been over for a long time. But the clouds are back in the sky. I’ll get the children indoors. Does Ventus have the note?”

“No.”

“Good.” Orange hung up.

Blue frowned. She hated the code. It was so overcomplicated. She understood the need for secrecy, but Orange was just too thorough sometimes.

She sighed and looked at the piece of paper she had snagged off of the floor when Ventus wasn’t looking. Thank goodness she had picked it up. She opened it up. It was a note to Clarence, to come forward and exchange himself for the safety of the twins. He had tried to confront them instead, walked right up to Red (how that incompetent moron actually found Red was a mystery) and, if he ever regained consciousness, he would wake up with his head under a guillotine. Orange and her weren’t the only ones who would see to that.

By now the alley had succumb to the tendril-like snakes that lined the walls. Some had broken away from the packs and slithered across the ground in front and behind Violet Reaper. The trap had been set and now all that was left was to see if Violet would fall into it.

"I told you already. It intravenous, an injection. Although I can simply place my essence on your epidermis and let it soak in like a topical ointment the quickest way for this to work is through injection. Sorry to say that but it is your quickest option. The other way will take too long." He said nonchalantly as he raised his one hand that held the swaying tendrils.

"Unfortunately I don't have another method at the ready but it shouldn't hurt. Other people have said they experience a euphoria via power transference, some even a numbness or both, like smoking weed or something I dunno...Never tried it to know what it feels like.." His voice softening slightly as if he detested this method but slightly perked up to what feels were discussed with him. 'Not to mention you will become my little puppet should I ever need you, heheh.' He mused quietly in his head. His face wouldn't show the hidden truths but merely push the other ones; The ones that talked of power and euphoria and what not.

"So apparently from what I have heard from others the immediate effects besides those are heighted senses, a sense of lightness and I forget the last one..." He looked off to the side as if trying to remember.

"There is a very miniscule risk that it will be painful but like I said, miniscule. Only 3 out of 24 felt that but everyone else didn't so I'll ask one more time Sokolov...What's your decision?" He was growing impatient. Jayce wouldn't wait much longer before setting off the trap. With her mistrust on him growing, focus seemed to be on him and not on the surroundings, putting him at the advantage should she attempt to resist. If she did, he wasn't going to let her leave that alley alive...or at least as another pawn for his true motive.

Niflheim tensed. Should she trust him? Maybe his power merely seemed menacing. It wasn't right to judge something just by how it appears. Still, why did she feel so cold in it? It was practically radiating with evil. It just didn't make sense, why would others have experienced this at all? And if they did, where were they now? The thoughts made her shudder, and the questions made her head hurt.

But... this may be her only chance at becoming strong enough. She tries so hard, training until she practically faints but the improvement seems to be minuscule. This could help her, she could become truly powerful as an S-class. She could make a difference in the world.

Tentatively, Niflheim replaced the scythe upon her back and rolled up her sleeve to reveal plump blue veins in her arm. "... Alright. I don't mind the pain. Don't misuse my trust, it is very hard to get." And you still don't fully have it She thought. Violet Reaper turned her face away, not wanting to see what this 'injection' looked like. Hopefully it would be over soon.

Jayce rolled hi eyes in irritation.

"I get it, I get it...jeez..."

Reaching out with his one hand, he let the tendrils cross up and along her arm.

"Ok so I need to hit the more vital areas in order to get give you the full effect of the serum....I would like to call it a serum but its just my juices....................that just sounds way too wrong....ju-just ignore that...." He looked away with a bit of a blush.

Once they were in position, small pores along the tendrils opened up, releasing a toxin that was mostly to numb the body and raise the endorphins as parts of them broke away, sliding under her skin with relative ease. It was when the viscous liquid was injected would sharp pains be felt, coupled with the rush of endorphins and the numbness of the body. It would be a weird feeling but she would quickly take notice to the sense being heightened, her sight enhancing, her sense of smell increasing, sounds most people could barely hear came into her ears. soon her feeling would be raised to, but for now it was pain. It didn't take to ling for the process to end and the pain to subside but when it was over, Jayce held a rather large grin and a light nod of the head.

"Welp, this shit show is over...We'll attack within the next couple of days. I got to let everyone that I'm currently in contact with know that the change we need is here." With that he jumped up to one of the walls, turned, and leapt up to the opposing building, disappearing amongst the rooftops. The tendril walls subsided and disappeared as if nothing had changed. However, across the city, weird beings would soon begin to pop up, slowly building to the ultimate crescendo and to Jayce's true intentions.