Something had woken Elijah. As he slowly rose from his kitchen table, he couldn't help but notice the clock on the wall. It was three in the morning. The music as still playing from when he passed out. He tried to shake the fog from his head, a combination of the bottle he had thought he finished and too many sleepless nights all seemed to be catching up to him.

He picked up one of stray smokes that was lying on the table and lit it. A deep drag seemed to helped clear his head a little. He looked around what passed for his home. It was bleak to the say the least, and Elijah knew it. If he was honest he didn't much care. A tiny table with two chairs, a nearly empty kitchen that occupied the room. This was by far the most populated area in the house, even that would seem sad to most people. As he took another pull from the bottle he finally realized what had woken him up. Somebody was outside his house. Eli slowly got his feet and collected one of his handgun on the table. Standing off to a corner he waited for whoever was outside to come barging inside.

He sat in the corner with his handgun ready as he watched someone with a goat mask. Eli tried to wait as long as he could before pulling the trigger but the moment he saw the goat mask he couldn't help himself. Eli pulled the trigger twice, a board look on his face.

He walked slowly to now slumped over body. He was still alive but he wasn't long for this world. Eli gave the kid credit he had some fight in him. It showed as the kid in the goat mask tried to crawl away from him. He made all the way out to the porch before Eli grabbed the goat mask and pulled it off of the kid. He couldn't help gaze at it for a few moments.

"You know, I used to wear a mask. Weren't nothing like this. My mask was to keep people from figuring out who I was. I was living in families garage outside of Fort Benning. I know it doesn't sound like much but it was home. Mask was to make sure that one could track me back to them. I'd hate for them to I'm your position. " Eli said slowly walking behind the crawling goat boy.

The kid was in a bad way, he left a thick trail of blood in wake. Gasping for each bloody breath. The smell of blood was so thick in the air it was all Eli could smell or taste. If he was honest, he was enjoying it right now. This was also the first time Eli had gotten a good look at the kid. His back was covered in something, it looked like some kind of messed up triangle. It was a symbol of some sort but they're much more important things to figure out. Eli pushed everything from his mind and finally started to work on the kid in front of him. "Hey shitheel, who sent you? Huh?" Eli asked sternly as he kicked the over to his front. His gun aimed at his face.

With a bloody laugh kid, who couldn't have been any older than twenty, spoke definitely. "Kill me, it won't matter. The Lion will roar, and the Morning Star will rise. I am but a single Messenger in an army fo-" A loud bloody shout came from the kid as Eli stepped on one of the bullet wounds.

"You just a stiff necked little some bitch ain'tcha?" Eli said as he watched the kid curle into a ball and pointed out past the porch into the darkness. The yellow glow of the porch light only served to make the scene more horrific. For all the blood, death and combat Eli had seen, this was damn sure in the top three. As he looked out to in the darkness he could a lifeless figure tied to a tree. There wasn't much he could make but what he could make his stomach turn in knots. A bloody, eyeless, skinless face that was twisted in horrific pain. Eli couldn't tell but he was pretty sure that he was attached to the by barbed wire.

As the anger in Elijah rose, it was the laughter that sent him over the edge. Eli's face twisted in anger as he looked to see the kid pulling out a dirty set of eyeballs. That was all he could take as Eli started to raise his gun with the intent of inflicting more pain on the sick bastard. He never got the chance to as arm started to glow, fire erupted from the brand on his arm that appeared a two weeks prior. There was no pain as his shirt caught fire, and the body of the kid. Eli quickly shed the shirt and watched somewhat happily as he watched the kid burn to death.

The smell burning flesh and his screams lingered in the air, it was never a pleasant thing but Eli could make an exception this one time. As the kid burned Eli looked at symbols on his arm. There was no pain but there was smoke. As he gathered himself Eli went to the body of the faceless man. He wanted to cut but he knew better, he knew the cops weren't gonna be far behind. Eli quickly ran back inside and grabbed a few things. A Go bag and his rifle were both tossed in the truck. When he put on a new long shirt he called the county sheriff. Eli spoke in a calm and clear voice but he was anything but. When the sheriff answered Eli didn't give him time to say anything. "Linehouse, its Eli. I need you at my place right now."

"Eli its-" Sherif Linehouse
"Linehouse if what happened up here gets out there is gonna be the biggest shit storm since Bloody Harlan. Call your deputies and round up everyone that at the Ole man Johnson's a couple of weeks back." Elijah said with the slightest hint of panic.
"Elijah where do you get-" Elijah cut him off again. "I got a man with no one face on my tree Ed, strung up with barbed wire. I don't know what the hell is going here but this is insane."

The was a long pause before Edward Linehouse giving an acknowledgement. When the sheriff arrived and saw what happened. He couldn't but puke, was it the horrific sight or the stench of burnt human? Did it matter? Eli patted Edward Linehouse on the back. "You'll get used to the smell. Him though, that's never get any easier to see." Eli said pointing to the faceless man. Though it didn't seem like it, Eli was scared. Horrified to an extent he hadn't know since he left the Air Force. The signs were there if you looked close enough. A slight tremble to the hand, eyes that wanted to stay fixed anywhere but the bodies. Even his normally smokey voice held a the slightest hint of panic and fear.

After another heave or two, the sheriff finally spoke. "The hell is wrong with you son? How are you so calm!? What the hell is going on here!?"

"Helps when you've seen a whole village like this... Round up those everyone from that party like I said Ed. Bad shit is coming for someone." Eli said looked to the burnt body. The yellow glow from the light bulb really made him even more unnerved. What he called a house was little more than a three room shack. It was so worn out most were surprised it had running water. It had everything he needed but almost nothing else. He knew without a doubt this was going to be one of the last nights he'd spend in these mountains. He heard the sheriff call for backup. What would come next he couldn't fathom, but he knew he wasn't gonna stick much longer to find out.

It was roughly six in the morning, and Jennifer sat cross-legged in the middle of her bed, the laptop in front of her providing the only source of light in the otherwise dark bedroom. She was browsing the internet in search of answers again, anything involving superhuman traits. As before, any promising results she came across were either sci-fi articles, news of the events that occurred at the gala that evening, or people expressing their hate towards her and the rest of the people who acquired an ability. Jennifer still couldn't wrap her mind around everything that had happened up that point, and to make matters worse, not a single professional could provide a viable explanation.

To Jennifer, it seems as if she'd been thrusted into the plot of a cheesy superhero movie, although in her case, such action did indeed come with real-world consequences. Roughly a week after the gala, her department head, Dr. Carl Jensen, called her and advised Jennifer to stay at home until further notice. He rambled on about safety precautions and some other unnecessary topics, but Jennifer knew the harsh truth: the university didn't want to be associated with the mess going on at the moment. She'd also been contacted by one of the biology professors, although he was primarily interested in any physiological changes that had occurred, but Jennifer didn't have anything to report and that was basically the end of their conversation.

Oddly enough, her phone suddenly went off. She picked it up to see who was calling her so early in the morning, and of course, it was none other than her mother.

"Hi, mom."

"Jenny, dear, how are you?"

"Same as before, more or less. Nothing's much changed," she said

"Have you heard back from Dr. Jensen or the university?"

"No, nothing yet," Jennifer sighed. She was honestly getting sick of her mother asking for an update nearly twice a day. Jennifer couldn't count the number of times she'd told her mother that the second she knew something, she would call her.

"Oh, okay. Well, your father's tests came back negative, so that's a plus."

"Yeah, that's good."

"Alright dear, I'll let you go back to sleep. Call me later, okay?"

"Okay mom. Love you."

Jennifer hung up, contemplating whether she should try to get some rest. After a few moments, she realized that it was a no-brainer, and she put her laptop away and tucked herself under the covers to try to get some much-needed sleep.

'You one of them freaks?'

The words burned in her brain as she shifted restlessly in her bed. She just wanted to rest, Lynette wanted to close her eyes and escape but sleep wouldn't come. Instead she glared up with tear soaked eyes at the dark ceiling while her finger tips brushed over the mark that had appeared on her arm. It had come out of no where; dark beneath the thin white scars that laid there. It felt like it had always been there- apart of her. Yet every time she looked at it, it filled her with dread.

'Tille had a mark.'

Her mind viciously whispered. It was true though. She had seen it for herself before the night she was murdered. It was rumored that the people who had killed her cut it off her body that night. Like a sick trophy.

Tille was someone the community liked. She was kind hearted and always the first to lend a hand. Yet, they still killed her. They tortured her and took her life. Fueled by fear and mistrust. If they could do that to someone they liked what would happen to her?

Her eye ached in response. She already knew.

It was easy to keep it hidden during the day. Her jacket covered both her scars and the mark but when it came to work she was left in the open. At first she had tried to cover it with a bandage but that drew more attention and eventually her boss had pulled her aside and questioned her. Each shift she could feel eyes burn a hole at her arm. The air shifted when she approached her customers and fear burned in the pit of her stomach. She should of known it was only a matter of time. Lynette closed her eyes and let the memories drown her.

He wasn't even in her section that night. Jared, a man she had known for years. He had called her over while sitting with a couple of his work buddies. Covered in the days grease and grime from working at the auto shoppe.

"What can I get you?"

"What's on your arm."

It was like someone had shoved ice into her spine. Lynette could feel his eyes bore into hers. He hadn't asked a question, what he said was a statement and Lynette was caught as panic flooded her senses.

"I- it's a tattoo." she stammered trying to think up a quick lie, "In honor of Tille." Her voice was tight as she searched his face for a reaction but there was none, instead he looked across the table at his friends and asked for another round of beers. Lynette could feel the relief that came as she walked away. She was in the clear and soon the whole situation had faded from her mind.

At the end of her shift, as always, she went to walk the few blocks to her parents humble home. The sky was dark and heavy with stars that smattered across its vastness. She had never been afraid to walk around at night but then again she never had a reason too be afraid before.

It was his heavy steps that alerted her to his presence first. The faint scent of beer that wafted from his body. He was plastered. No doubt after they had left they hit the local pub while waiting for her shift to be over.

"You one of them freaks?"

Jared had asked, speech slurred. His friends had been with him. Each as drunk as the other as they circled her. Lynette never had the chance to speak as the first hit rocked her small frame. The pain caused her vision to darken as she landed smack on the ground below. From there it was a blur. The insults. The pain. It all melded together as they kicked and spat at her. It felt like hours had passed before they stepped back. Leaving her bleeding and sobbing on the side of the road.

She didn't even remember coming home, just that her mother had dropped the cup she was getting out of the cabinet when her daughter came through the door. Her father had dialed the police despite her weak protests. She didn't want them to know. She didn't want them to see. Her fear of them rejecting her burned brightly.

The police took her statement. She remembered them pressing her for information as to what may of set them off but all she could do was shrug.

She was lucky, though. Nothing was broken just some bad bruseing and a swollen, black eye.

The sky outside had already started to turn pink with the rising sun. She listened quietly as the world began to wake. Cars rumbling to life. Her parents shuffling downstairs to start a pot of coffee. She wanted to get up and join them. She wanted to laugh and help her mom make breakfast but she couldn't move; wouldn't move.

A soft rapping came from her door, "Lynn, honey? Are you up?" Her mom's voice called softly. She could feel the worry in her tone and it stung her. As if she was causing her mother pain. Lynette didn't bother to respond. Instead she snuggled further down into her comforter and hoped her mother would just leave her be.

"Lynn. Baby. You need to get up," her mom spoke louder as she opened the door, "The police are here."

Lynette rolled to look back at her mother. Sure enough there was two state troopers standing behind her like body guards.

"Miss," One of the officers stepped forward, "We're going to need you to get dressed and pack a few things. You'll need to come with us."

Lynette shot up in bed. She looked over at her mother who was wringing her hands as tears slipped down her face.

"We'll give you a minute to get ready." They nodded curtly and backed away.

"Mom?" But her mom didn't answer. Instead she just shut the door and left her daughter to process what was being asked of her.



"Is this necessary?!" Ryan yelled at the officers while his wife sat on the couch, face buried in her hands crying.

"Sir, we understand this is a difficult situation but you must trust us."

"Trust you?! You're trying to take my daughter! She's only seventeen!" He knew he was out of line but he couldn't control himself. Lynette was his only child. His precious little girl and now they wanted to take her. Whisk her away to some unknown place.

One of the officers had had enough as he lurched forward. Squaring up to the belligerent man as his mouth formed a hard line, "I. Was. There!" He breathed.

"I was there the night you called. I saw her! I saw her bleeding and crying and I saw it. And I know you did too." Lynette's jacket had fallen down off her shoulder, exposing the devil mark on her flesh. He didn't say anything about it that night. The girl was already too shaken about being jumped but he knew. He knew the reason why she was attacked and now he was here, trying to rescue her before the next call he got was about her body.

"You remember Tille. That is exactly what is going to happen if we don't get her out of here."

Ryan had gone quite. The weight of his words hitting him hard before he abruptly swung around to punch the wall behind him, "Fuck!" He roared.

"Sir, you need to ca-" an officer was cut off by the soft thud of a small pack hitting the bottom of the stairs.



She stood there, shell shocked, before stepping off the bottom step. Lynette had gotten ready in mute silence. Her whole body and mind numb.

A moment passed before her mother rushed off the couch and encircled her daughter with a tight embrace. Her father followed suit and while most teens would hate the feeling of being smothered by their parents, Lynette welcomed their warmth around her stiff frame. Soon she dissolved into a shivering mess. Her cries echoing her mother's as she managed to choke out, "I don't want to go." Her voice was edged with fear and pain. She didn't want to leave. She wanted them to tell her to go back and unpack her things. Instead the senior officer stepped forward and held out a comforting hand.

"Miss, I'm going to take care of you. Don't you worry."

Her parents reluctantly stepped back as Lynette handed him her pack. Still shivering with silent tears she followed them to the police car waiting outside. They opened the door for Lynette and she hesitated, looking back at her weeping parents and silently begging them to fight for her. But the words never came and she slowly climbed inside. While she sat there she could feel her heart breaking in her chest.

Ashton and Luna

It was two weeks after the events that occurred at the Gala. The Gala was a very expensive dinner party, and as one of the wealthiest and important people in the city, he had prime VIP seating. It was more of a casual affair, but with any meeting among the top 1%, there are always business and politics flying about. The party was going without a hitch, until the unwanted happened... tensions got high, new found powers flying left and right as several were injured, three dead. It was a disaster. Ashton, with the help of his personal bodyguard, managed to escape the incident with mere scratches. In the two weeks prior, Conway industries stocks plummeted. As the owner, CEO, and face of the company, usual business partners refused to buy from him due to his abnormalities. The usual expensive shopping areas, clubs, and restraints he frequented were closed off to him. The bank refused to hold his money, and he had to transfer it to a joint account with his Vice President. He was reduced to staying indoors, going on the occasional drive in his Lamborghini, the streets he used to own seeming oh so unfamiliar. There was a meeting between those affected at the Gala, and he planned on going. But before he did that, he had to make sure the company lived on until this mess was sorted out. A few hours before a meeting with the others from the Gala, there was a separate meeting between Conway executives in a discrete location in the city. Since lots of protestors and rioters were outside Conway industry's main building, to try and avoid hazard, they moved the meeting to one of the smaller office buildings in the city. Ashton also brought his bodyguard, Luna, with him, the same one that had accompanied him in the Gala. She was part of the Guardians, a major buyer of his arms. They had sent her to personally accompany him, as most of their firearms came from him.

Luna was not sure what had happened. One moment, they were at the gala, and then next, they were subjected to complete and utter chaos. She remembered the scene quite vividly. She was accompanying Ashton Conway, one of Guardian's most trusted sources of weaponry and client. She had already known the man prior to the gala, given how many transactions they had with the man. When it happened, she had managed to escape with the client and then hide for a while, finding out more about her powers. A symbol had appeared on the nape of her neck which was hidden by her hair. It was in the shape of a lightning bolt and was colored black. However, when she attempted to activate her powers, it turned into an electrifying blue. She wasn't sure whether to fear this new power or embrace it. She learned to do the latter. Though, it became increasingly evident that their newfound superpowers weren't exactly accepted by most of the people. She had accompanied Ashton when he attempted to get into shopping areas, clubs and the likes but they were blocked off because of being one of them. She watched as his business went down because multiple business partners decided to withdraw their claims on his products. Everything had hit rock bottom for him. Luna could say the same for herself. She had contacted HQ about her conditions and they said that they couldn't help, not unless she manages to get out of the country and fly back to them. She understood why. Actively helping her might cause some of their clients to not go to them for bodyguards anymore. And so, Luna was stuck helping Ashton. Well, he had the money anyway... but then again, money isn't exactly a very important commodity to them. There was a meeting between those affected in the gala. Ashton planned on going so Luna was naturally going as well.

"Here, you can drive. Just don't scrath the paint."

Luna looked at the lamborghini with an impressed look. "Wow, I have never driven a lamborghini before... or at least, not the newer ones." Usually, the other rich people had drivers so she only ever rode in them which was impressive in its own regard. She slid into the driver seat and then watched Ashton starting the engine and the doors closed. She let out a small chuckle. "Uh... I can promise you that much." Her hands immediately going to the seatbelt and clicked it into the lock. She looked over at Ashton, "Can't have us getting pulled over after all."

She then held the wheel and then stepped onto the gas. Her driving was pretty smooth but obviously showed that she wasn't used to this kind of car. She wasn't rich and she didn't even own a car, just a motorcycle that was parked back at HQ. "Where are we headed again?"

"There's a meeting across town, in one of the clubs near there. It's a shady part of town, but it was the place they would least expect a bunch of rich people to have a meeting at. Hopefully this meeting goes off without a hitch." Ashton exclaimed, pushing the face of his smart watch. He put in the coordinates for the club, the speaker on the watch coming to life.

"In five miles, turn left on 2nd Street."

"The power of GPS. Hopefully it doesn't careen us into a ditch." Ashton chuckled, sighing and leaning back in his seat. He checked himself in the mirror, smoothing over his jacket and his hair. He had to look presentable for the meeting after all.

"It is a life saver... unless it does give us wrong coordinates." Luna muttered as she followed the instructions the GPS was giving her. A meeting huh? That was the one where all of them were involved wasn't it? The ones who were at the Wildlife Charity Gala. She was quite looking forward to what they thought they should all do. Were they thinking of leaving? Convincing everyone that they were still the same people they were before, but more powerful?

"What are you looking for in the meeting?" She asked Ashton. "Answers?" She questioned why he would risk going to a shady part of town and going to a meeting filled with superpowered individuals. It might also lead to a trap wherein the building would blow up all of a sudden because of some anti-them attacks.

"No, not answers... I doubt any of us have answers." Ashton said after a while, looking at his hand. He could feel himself regaining feeling, the marks slowly disappearing from his arm. "I know it could be a trap, but it's something I need to risk. We are the only ones of our kind, and if we split up we will be picked off and slaughtered like dogs. We need to group up and stick together, because we're the only ones that are for us now." Ashton said solemnly, looking out of the window.

"You want us, the outcasts, to stick together huh?" Luna thought about it. He had a point. No one would stand up to them. Not the government, not their 'friends'... they could only rely on each other because they knew how each other felt. They were stuck in a state of solitude, being shunned by nearly everyone around them. But they could find companionship with their own - their kind. "Yeah, I get that."

"I used to lead a life that anybody would dream of. Billions of dollars, head of a successful company at 19. Lots of fancy cars, the nicest clothes, the best food, an expensive penthouse in one of the most beautiful cities in the world. I thought I had everything. Now? It doesn't mean jack shit. My money can'y buy me shit anymore, and it sure as hell ain't saving my ass. Now I literally have nothing. I want to... I want to get away from this. This constant reminder of what was. That, and I doubt staying in the city is good for our health either..."

"In 2 miles, turn left onto grape street."

"I really appreciate the help you know. I know you didn't have to stay with me. After this meeting, I'm relieving you of your duty. I'm sure you want to go home or something. I don't know." Ashton looked out the window as he said this, looking at the strip clubs and drug dealers on street corners. They were getting close.

She listened to him rambling on about his life story. She appreciated him speaking - it filled the silence after all. She agreed with what he said. Money didn't have any use to them now. They can't even enter many establishments now. It's weird. They both had their lives hanging on money, it was the only necessity that they knew they really needed. After all, money can give you anything. To have it suddenly lose its sole purpose for you can be jarring. That much is obvious from his story, and Luna could understand where he was going from this.

She turned to the street, eyes catching on to the multiple bars and shady people hanging around. Oh, this place was familiar. This was her place. She grew up in these kinds of streets, much to the dismay of her mother. She fought in these kinds of streets before, beating up anyone who dared try to fight her. Drugs had been prevalent there but she never did try it. It would only ruin lives. She spared a glance at Ashton when he said that he was relieving her of her duty. "Tch, did you really think I wouldn't leave you after the gala? I tried. But I don't have anywhere else to go." She then gave him a little grin. "I'm stuck with you, whether I like it or not."

"Awe, and I thought maybe it was my nice personality and charming good looks that kept you around. But nope, I'm just your only option." Ashton chuckled, opening and closing the hand that was paralyzed, the marks all but gone now. "Well, I'll be glad to have you around then I guess. I know you've saved my ass one or two times before. Let's just make it a back and forth thing. I guard you, you guard me. It's fulllllllproof." he said, looking outside his window at the club.

"Keep dreaming kiddo. You'd need more than just that to get me to stay without good reason." Luna said, rolling her eyes at the male's remarks. He was definitely amusing. She guessed this wouldn't be so bad. "Yeah, that plan sounds good." Though she guessed that was the plan they both agreed to subconsciously before.

"You have now arrived at your destination."

"Well, our plan may be fullproof, but maybe I should have made the car bulletproof. It's bad enough trying not to get shot here, even without the powers."

Luna looked outside, watching the people go by. "In this place, they respond to power. No worries, they wouldn't attack us for no reason..." She then looked back to the inside of the car. "Well, except for stealing this nice ride." Aside from that, she guessed no one would really try to harm them for anything. But only a display of power would send them away with their tails between their legs.

"Yeah, if anybody even lays a finger on this thing, I will risk paralyzing my whole body to throw them to the fucking moon." Ashton chuckled, half joking as he took the keys out of the ignition and stepped out of the car. He went around the other side, opening the door for Luna. "After you. It seems like we're the first ones here. You seem like the type of person these kind of people would listen to. Why don't you get us a table in the back room or something?"

"Sure thing." Luna stepped out of the car and then walked towards the club. She looked at the bouncer who gave her a simple look-up. He didn't seem to mind the assault rifle slung around her shoulder. She then gestured to Ashton who was behind her. His eyes sparked with recognition and then stepped aside to give them way.

"Hmm, so it's that easy huh. Even in this part of town" Ashton whispered to himself, noting that the bouncer didn't even blink at the assault rifle. Was this really nothing new to him?

"Don't cause any trouble." He said with a gruff voice.

"Wouldn't dream of it." The bodyguard replied. With that, they were inside the club. Blinding strobe lights filled the room along with the high volume music that were blasted out of the speakers. She certainly didn't like these kinds of places but these were places she frequented because of the jobs. She pulled aside one of the waiters there and then whispered him something and then pressed her hand to his side. He quickly nodded and then led them towards the room where the meeting would be held. Once inside, Luna opened her hand to show the money she promised him.

He bowed and then asked, "Is there anything you would want?"

"A few drinks, just set them out before our guests arrive. After that I don't want to be disturbed..." Ashton whispered, slipping a few hundred dollar bills into his hand. "Are we clear?"

"Certainly sir. Your drinks will be ready soon." And with that, the waiter left them to an empty table. Ashton walked over, sitting at the head of the table, putting his feet up on it and his hands behind his head.

"And now... we wait."

***BuckHead***

"Events that rocked the world." The female anchor said. "Just two short weeks ago, a mysterious event that has left in bewilderment. How it happened, or what exact happened, is a complete mystery. Our own Jennifer Nettles has the story. From outside the Mandarin Oriental Hotel, Jennifer?"

"Yes, Thank you Tina." The Field Correspondent said. "Its just like you said Tina. No one knows what happened. Officials are keeping quite about the investigation and there is very real concern that this may have been a terrorist attack. The annual Wildlife Banquet that raised over fifty thousand dollars for the World Wildlife Fund has been one of Atlanta's most exclusive charity events. Security was at all time high yet somehow, more than half of the people killed, and no one has any idea how." Jennifer said with the trademark speech of a news journalist.

"According to eye witness accounts that spoke on the condition of anonymity. One said it was it was like something out of a Saw movie, another said it was war zone. Lifeless bodies were everywhere, some were dismembered...? some torn in half and one..." Jenifer paused for a moment, unsure of what she was reading was correct. She even went so far as to look off camera for a reassuring look from a coworker.

"Jennifer is everything alright? What's going on?" Martina Liana asked.

"Uh yes, excuse me. According to eye witness accounts that have been multiple sources. One man... All they could find of him was his feet. It was almost like he just exploded. Witness described this horrific event as being asleep. Only to wake up to a horrific nightmare. No one can recall hearing an screams or seeing anything out of the ordinary. It's almost like it happened in the blink of an eye." Jenifer said becoming only more uncomfortable as time went on.

"What's the mood around the city? How are people reacting this... Frightening and horrific turn of events." Martina asked. Martina's body language betrayed her. It was she wanted this to over and done with. She was every bit as disturbed as Jennifer was. For many this, was the first time they were hearing any real news about it the event. News of the death had spread quickly, but details were extremely scares.

"People are terrified over what happened here. People are leaving the city fearful for their own safety. The few survivors of the events have mostly become shut ins and who could blame them? These events have rocked not just the city but the entire country. City officials have asked the FBI to help with the investigation. Even the International community has offered gotten involved. Interpol, England's MI6, Germany's BND or Federal Intelligence Service just to name a few, have all offered to help in anyway they can. It should also be noted that events similar to these have happened elsewhere. Harlan County, Kentucky. However details of what happened there are much more scares." Jennifer words came out somewhere between stoic and somber.

"Do officials have any leads or suspects at this time?" Tina asked, her last question for this segment. As the words left her lips a slight relief over came her. This was almost over.

"At this time we really don't know. Investigators are looking at this from every angle, and pursue every possible avenue. There are medical experts trying to determine what exactly killed the attendees. There are however a couple of names that keep popping up. Ashton Conway, Jennifer "JJ" Jureau and Luna Yvilkov. These three are wanted for more questioning, officials currently do not believe they were in anyway responsible for what happened. If you spot or have any information about these two do not approach them and call the police." Jennifer seemed as if she saw this as fulfilling her civic duty.

"Thank you for time Jennifer. That was Jennifer Nettles our Field Corespondent. Again Ashton Conway, Jennifer "JJ" Jureau and Luna Yvilkov are only wanted for questioning. They are not currently suspects. Please do not approach or attempt to apprehend them. If you have any information relating to their whereabouts please call the police... Coming up after the break, celebrity news.

Jennifer scratched at the mark in the back of her neck. She’d only begin to notice it a while back when she decided to use a mirror to check out what she assumed to be an itchy bug bite, but she was surprised—to say the least—when she found out how wrong she was. The reality of her nightmare became a bit more apparent then, and for the first time in her entire life, the young woman seriously considered the existence of a god. The thought alone was absurd for someone like her, but science couldn't possibly explain the origin or sudden appearances of these special abilities, so it was only logical to assume that a higher being was at work.

Jennifer then proceeded grabbed her black leather jacket off of the couch and slinging her purse over her shoulder, she made her way towards the front door.


Alright, let's get this party started... Jennifer pulled up to the club's front lot, parking her silver Hyundai Sonata four spots away from the front door. She reached for the glove compartment to grab a small pocket knife she kept as a safety precaution, then turned off the ignition. Jennifer placed the knife and keys inside her purse, making sure she secured the clasp. After a few moments, she finally stepped out into the cool evening wind.

The bouncer at the door stared at Jennifer as she approached him. She could have sworn he was checking her out, but given their surroundings, who could blame him. She smiled as he held the door open for her, thanking him in the process. She then was met with loud party music, strobe lights, and shadows of people who were either dancing or attempting to make conversation with one another by shouting over the music. Jennifer checked out the club, looking beyond the dance floor for a moment to get an idea of where the others were, but she wasn't successful. She decided that she would just ask the bartender for help.

"Excuse me, where are your private rooms?" she shouted after she approached the bar.

The bartender didn't bother looking up; he was too busy mixing a couple of drinks for some customers. "Towards the back," he replied, quickly pointing in the right direction.

"Thank you!"

Jennifer turned around and headed in the direction she'd been told, not really sure what to expect but she wasn't all that nervous as they were in a very crowded club. Oddly enough, crowds made her feel better in tense situations.

When she reached the back, she saw a few doors adjacent to each other. She went into the room that had a sign reading "Occupied" and there, she found two people already waiting.

---

It was early in the morning, far too early for parker to be answering the door. However, as the knocking shook her from her sleep, she leaned upright and slid out of her bed. She crossed her room and opened the door and stepped into the hallway? "Marc?" She called towards her older brother's room. The knocking continued as she stepped to DeMarcus' door to check if he was home yet. She peeked in, but his bed was still made and empty. He had been taking a lumber shipment last night that had him driving through the night. He must not have come home yet. As the knocking continued to sound from the front door, Parker turned and moved towards the front of the house. A bit of apprehension crept into her, as she couldn't fathom who would be over this early.

As the fourth round of knocking began, Parker opened the door, cutting the visitor's knock short. Her eyes widened as she saw two police officers standing outside of her home.

"Ms. Blake, you need to come with us, is your brother home?" A fat deputy asked, looking physically down at the short girl.

"Uh- No, he's coming home from a work-thing, what do you need me for?" She asked, squinting as the dawning sun glared into her eyes.

"We don't have time to explain, but you need to come to the station with us, immediately. You can call your brother and ask him to come, but you'll have to do that on the way to the station." The deputy countered, the edge in his voice slightly sharpening.

"I can't leave, I'm not even wearing clothes." She said, she gave him a look, waving her arms once to indicate her tank top and underwear. "And I'm not going anywhere with anyone until DeMarcus gets back." The deputy gave her an exasperated glance, shaking his head in frustration.

"Ma'am, you can get your clothes and pack a bag, but we have to leave as soon as possible." He turned and glanced behind him, and Parker saw the second squad car parked behind the first, also containing two more officers. The four deputies were probably half of Harlan's police force.

"No." Parker said, matter-of-factly, and shut the door.

"Goddam- Somebody get ahold of DeMarcus Blake!" The deputy shouted from outside. Almost as if on cue, Parker heard the low rumble of an old pickup truck coming down the road. She knew that truck. She opened the door and stepped onto the small cement porch as her older brother pulled his truck into the driveway. "Nevermind!" The deputy shouted again at his partner. The two other deputies climbed out of their cruiser as DeMarcus' truck cut off and he stepped out.

DeMarcus Blake was a large man, standing over six and a half feet tall. The deputy's apparently knew just how big, because the four of them looked prepared to fight him. It wasn't a secret that DeMarcus was very protective of his sister.

"What the hell are you doing on my property, McFarland?!" DeMarcus said, the anger clear in his baritone voice. He marched towards the line of deputies with a scowl on his face. He was about to chew the crap out of them for trespassing until he saw Parker standing on the porch in her pajamas. He stopped, taking a breath and subduing his frustration.

"Blake, calm down, we just need you and your sister to come to the station with us, please." Deputy McFarland, the fat one, said.

"I know the law, I don't have to do squat until I see fit or you have a warrant!" He marched past the deputies and joined his sister on the porch. "Now get off my property!"

"For God's sake, son. We're rounding up everyone who was at that party on Old Man Johnson's. There's weird things goin' boy. Make it easier for everyone and just come with us."

"You pickin' up everyone there? White kids, too?" DeMarcus countered. The black man looked the deputy in the eyes as if he were challenging him.

"Sunnova- You know it ain't about that!" McFarland objected. "You ain't seen the body and what happened, the sumbitch was tryin' real hard to kill Elijah. We're looking out for your safety. I know you don't want any harm comin' to that sister of yours, and we just want to help, Blake."

DeMarcus sighed and glared into McFarland's eyes, reading the urgency in his gaze. He shook his head in slightly frustration. "Okay. Park, get your stuff." He said, turning to his sister and opening the door.

"What- So he can just barge over here and-" The serious look in DeMarcus' eye cut Parker's protest short. She knew his looks, and she knew when enough was enough.

"Just - Go put some clothes on, get your stuff, and we'll make some sense of what's going on." He said. Parker sighed in defeated and went inside. DeMarcus turned and faced Deputy McFarland. "Tell me, right now, what's going on." He said with a deadly serious tone.

The Deputy sighed and rubbed his jaw, then said, "Okay, Tillie Hilton... she was... at the party, too. People know she... changed, or what have you. Y'all folks were at the party, too. Someone attacked Eli Craigh this morning, but you bet your life the attacker ain't with us no more. We're just being careful, that's all I know." He said, his eyes earnest. "...Is you one of them changed people, too?"

DeMarcus exhaled a deep breath. "We'll see, I guess..." He turned and walked inside the house without another word. As he trudged back to his room, he took his grey t-shirt off, tossing it into a pile of dirty clothes. Parker didn't know, but he'd had a bag ready to go, ever since both of them had experienced their change. He knew they would have to leave eventually.

A minute later, Parker stepped into DeMarcus' doorway, holding her suitcase and her camera bag. Just as Marc was putting a new shirt on, she saw the black markings on his light-brown skin. The mark formed three lines that curved up his back muscles and wove around his biceps. As he slid his shirt on, the edges of the black lines just looked like a tattoo.

Parker's mark was far less noticeable than DeMarcus'. Her mark was a hieroglyphic of an eye, tucked behind hear ear. It could only be seen if one knew where to look. She was lucky that her symbol was not very noticeable, even if the cost had been dreadful, the first time encountered her knew abilities.

"I'm ready." She said, leaning agaist the doorframe.

DeMarcus nodded and wordlessly picked up his bag and walked to her. As he came near, she opened her arms, reaching out to him. He leaned over her and the two hugged for a moment. The siblings were a slightly comical sight for anyone to behold. Parker felt safe with her brother. She was genuinely scared of what was coming soon, simply because she didn't know what that was. "Love you." She said, as they both pulled away. "Love you too, kid."

DeMarcus led his younger sister out of the house and they rejoined the deputy. "Thank you, DeMarcus." Deputy McFarland said, his posture far more relaxed now that the threat of an altercation was gone. DeMarcus simply walked on to the police cruiser as the other deputy opened the door. Parker climbed in and, DeMarcus followed her into the back seat. Despite his long legs leaving him no room to move, he tried to sit comfortably. As the officers got into the cruiser and pulled away, DeMarcus noticed Parker watching their house fade into the distance.

As the house faded out of sight, Parker turned back and leaned against her brother's shoulders. "We'll be okay, P." DeMarcus said, even though he had no idea of what was coming.

Eli stuck around long enough to answer a few questions. No one really wanted to believe him. However, they didn't have much choice in the matter. They all knew him by reputation and sadly, personal experience. They knew he wasn't one to lie, or to be trifled with. When the question seemed to be done, or at least at short stopping point. Elijah escaped into his run down shack of a house and took one more long pull on his bottle. Packing a few more things into a duffel bag and got ready to leave.

If there was one thing you could always count on in these hills, its that every shit apple redneck was looking for a payday. Cops were no exception. Eli tossed two rolls of money on the table as he walked passed Linehouse. "Going to the station. Problem?" It wasn't a question. Linehouse shook his head and hoped to all that was holy that Elijah was telling the truth. If worse came to worse, Linehouse would tell people he just escaped.

Elijah was a bit of a... Folk lore. The hermit or troll in the cave to stay away from. One day as a teenager he just up and left. Some months later he sent a letter detailing that he had join military and would return one day. People followed his exploits, well they followed as best they could, but details became more and more harder to find. Then one day, out of the blue he had returned. Every now and then some friends would show up and spend a week or two with him but they always kept themselves and stayed out town. All anyone saw of them was a vehicle coming and going.

As time went on, rumors started to spread about Elijah. Why he was always alone, what he did the military, Elijah never listened nor did he care. He just went on about his day and tried not to say too much. Silence was always the best counter. Rumors ranged from a family that was murdered or left him to him being wanted for war crimes. No one was really sure to make for him so they left him alone for the most part. The only people he really ever talked to where those at cash registers, the waiters or waitresses and bartenders. Elijah was may have been cold and silent, but he wasn't rude or impolite. People were scared of him, even law enforcement officers were worried about him. They had good reason to be, he wasn't one to out looking for trouble, but if it found him... G-d help anyone around because it was going to be bad for everyone involved.

Eli wondered how long it would take for him to get pulled over, but the cops never came. As truck sat at the edge of the road. He figured if he was gonna leave these hills, there was only one person he owed anything to. A trip to the grave yard would solve that issue. He pulled into the grave yard and walked to an isolated part, all of the tombstones had the same name of Craigh etched on them. He walked to one with the Ophelia A. Craigh and sat in front of it.

"Well Mama, I've done this time. I think I really stepped in it this time. You know that Wilson boy? Always covered in grease and oil? Found him tied to a tree in the front yard... Looks like he'd been skinned alive." His voice was a bit shaky as he stared off into the distance. Say what you will about Elijah Craigh, but even bad men loved their Mamas. "Adalida and Riley are doing good I hear they moved in some family..." Eli said trying to find the right words.

"I don't know what's going yet, maybe I'll find out but I can't stay here. Every methhead and oxyfiend will be after me before long, and the cops ain't worth a shit around here so I gotta go or be ready to kill a lot of people." He rubbed the side of head with a now sobering hand."I'm sorry I didn't turn out any better. Lord knows you tried Mama... I'll... Tell the girls you said hello if I see them." He bent over, kissed the tombstone and patted it a few times before leaving with a heavy sigh.

I didn't take much longer for Eli to get to the Sheriff's office. He walked in and made his way to the break room and placed one of his bags against the door. "Lorrie." Was the only thing he said, the name of the front desk lady. He sat against the wall, ready to get at least a little sleep before someone came in. There was feeling he was going to need every bit of rest he could get.

ℑ𝔰𝔞𝔞𝔠 ℜ𝔢𝔶𝔫𝔬𝔩𝔡𝔰

---

---

Another one bites the dust. Ever since that night at the old man's farm things have been picking up for Isaac. And at the same time, his health had seemed to take a turn for the worse. It did not take long for the man to figure out what he was. It was that damned symbol that appeared on his hand that gave it away. He was one of those freaks with powers. And it was not like he had any time to get used to what he was. Instantly the whole damn county were searching for people like him. Those cast aside by society. In these hills many people fit that category, so what could you do when you were the outcasts of the outcasts? Unwanted. That's what he was. Despite his power being somewhat useful in his profession, Isaac preferred to keep himself under the radar. This whole power business made his life plenty more dangerous than it already was. Heck, the last man he conned in a game of cards had stared awfully hard at Isaac as if he was searching for a reason, any reason, to beat the life out of him.
That familiar police siren caused a shiver to go down Isaac's spine. He was used to dealing with the law and the particularly unsavory characters in the Harlan County Sheriff's Office. There was nothing they could book Isaac on, he knew it, they knew it. But that did not stop them from harassing Isaac on a daily basis. It made business slow. These little stops became so frequent it could be considered on off day if a cop had not stopped and asked Isaac a few questions.
A familiar face had stepped out from that black and white sporting a rather impressive mustache. Deputy Cunningham was a nice enough fellow, but he did not tolerate Isaac's presence on the streets. By all accounts, he was a good man and a person who did his best for his community. Isaac could respect that, but as it stands, Deputy Cunningham was bad for profits.
"Mr. Reynolds," spoke Deputy Cunningham. His voice was solid and carried through the air with little efforts. Today, however, instead of that disappointed tone that stung like a wasp's sting, it held a sense of urgency and caution. Something must have happened.
"Deputy Cunningham," replied Isaac dryly. What could it be today?
"I need you to come back to the office with me."
"Legally, I don't have to do shit."
Deputy Cunningham let out an exasperated sigh as he rubbed his forehead. He shifted his weight on his legs and placed both thumbs on his utility belt with frustration.
"Mr. Reynolds, it would-"
"Listen, Deputy, we can stop thi-"
"Listen to me Reynolds!" shouted Deputy Cunningham. This outburst caused Isaac to take a step back and widen his eyes. He had never heard such an outburst to come from a man like Deputy Cunningham. This usually calm and stoic man changed in the blink of an eye.
"Look, Reynolds, listen to me. Alright? You are not under arrest, you are not in trouble. At least with the law. You've heard about these people with powers right? I know you have. We've got reports about individuals who were at Johnson's farm. We know you were there. You're in terrible danger."
The thought of Tillie Helton flashed in Isaac's mind and made his stomach turn. Everyone loved Tillie. But because she was... a freak her community turned on her in an instant. He could not imagine the things they would do to him if they caught him.
"This is for your safety, Reynolds. We've had our run ins in the past, but trust me when I say this is for your safety."
There was a great reluctance in Isaac's movements. He hesitated for a moment before he finally accepted the deputy's help. He looked around for a moment, catching the stares from the townsfolk as he entered the Crown Vic. Many of those stares were filled with such malice and fear it made a shiver go down his spine.

FBI Field Office. Atlanta, Georgia.

“So, who do we have on our home grown freak list?” Asked Alan Mansfield, the Special Agent in Charge of the Atlanta division. He took his seat at the head of the conference table, sifting through the stacks of thick dark green folders with Classified written across each of them.

A round, balding man was the first to speak. “Jennifer ‘JJ’ Jureau, twenty-seven year old mathematician at a research firm for USA and one hell of a looker.” He said before letting out whistle. “She's as smart as she is pretty. She’s into kickboxing but I don’t think she’ll be a problem. Even if she runs there nothing to indicate she’ll be good at it. Upper class family, mother is a neurosurgeon, father an engineer. P.H.D at age twenty-five and a booty that-” He was quickly cut off by the man at the head of the table shouting for him to stop talking.

Without a moment's delay another someone else spoke up. A middle aged man with glasses. “Next we have Luna Yvilkov. We don't have a lot on her though. We think her father had Russian mob connection but we don't really know…” He paused for a scolding that didn't come. “Anyhow, we think after her father died in an accident, she moved with her mother to the Philippines. Records get even more dicy after that it she graduated ‘The Guardians’ at around sixteen.” He said with air quotes.

“The name might a bit on the nose but for bodyguards, they don’t get much better. Every bit as dedicated and dangerous as any jihadist. Wish I had ten like her.” A man with close cropped hair hair said. His manner was that of a lifelong soldier. “She’s gonna be a problem. She won't go down with a fight .” He concluded his thoughts with a glares from around the table. To those around the table, a soldier's place was on the battlefield, not here.

The middle aged man with glasses cleared his throat before continuing. “Luna Yvilkov is currently working for Ashton Conway and as of ten minutes ago, she's with him now.” He said adjusting his glasses. The two plus Jureau were last sighting entering a club in town.”

A heavy sigh came from the lifelong soldier, annoyed by his counterparts action.”Ashton Conway, former CEO of Conway Industries. He stepped down when his company's stock started to tank. Banks don’t really want to do business with him, nor does anyone else but he won’t go bankrupt anytime soon. Legally, as far as we know he’s done nothing wrong so we can’t hold or freeze his assets.” He said never bothering to look at the file. “He won’t be much of a problem. Especially if we can isolate his bodyguard.

“There is also a little girl, Violet Black, fifteen years old, bounced around a lot with her parents. Homeschooled most of her life, did a little public school before taking some online college classes… Wish my kids were that motivated. Anyhow we're still working on some more intel on her. The has records all of the world.” Said the Soldier in the suite.

“Alright, what are these other files from… Harlan Kentucky?” Alan Mansfield asked without every looking up at anyone. “...From the London office? This is out of jurisdiction.” He stated flatly.

The eager middle aged man with glasses was quick to speak. “I asked for them, We know only of one other event like what happened here. That was in Harlan county. No files we have stand out for any reason, just some dumb hillbillies who walked into the circumstance. All of them all unremarkable. Isaac Reynolds, is career criminal specializing in petty theft. Demarcus and Parker Blake, interracial siblings. Demarcus works at a lumber mill and Parker is a waitress at a dinner. Another seventeen year old waitress from Danville named Lynette Marshal and some coal miner named Elijah Craigh. He was in the military, we’re waiting on the DoD to send us his files. From the look of things, local sheriff's office has them all in custody.” The middle aged man with the glasses ended, secure in the fact he had outshined everyone else at the table.

“Alright, get a swat team on the three at the club. Make it as quick as possible, I don’t even want to see this one the news. Got it? I want everything on the this Criagh guy and little girl.” Alan Mansfield said look through the stacks of folders. “We’re done here.”

As everyone left, it was solider that had a concerned look on this face. He could have sworn he had heard the name ‘Craigh’ somewhere but he couldn’t place it.

Two weeks. That was how long she had been working, having the most fun with math she'd had in years. Hundreds of experiments and several notebooks had gone into that time, now full of diagrams and equations spanning nearly every page, sparse theses and notation littered throughout in an unorganized jumble indecipherable to the average mortal. Written in elegant form by Violet's mother, these books contained every secret that Violet had learned about her newfound reality. From the exact measurements of her sugar decay to a daily log of experiments and training she'd done, these were the maps to truth that had been drawn by her family and friends. Of course, it helped that coincidence and instinct seemed to be on her side.

--- Violet had just finished washing her hands when it happened. Her head tapped the ceiling while she was distracted from drying her hands. At the same time, a strange shape appeared on the back of her left hand and she found herself unable to move at all. Floating in the air as she was, her mind was racing to find out what was going on. There was hysteria and crying coming from outside the restroom. She didn't know what was going on but immobility was immediately annoying. Noticing that she was still blinking, she focused on the feeling of it and slowly found that she could move if she turned all of her mental ability towards the act. However, she was met with the problem that she couldn't seem to control the force she moved with, far overshooting what she intended to do. She spent several minutes there as she tried to re-learn movement before her mother entered the restroom and saw her. Speaking proved to be too difficult for the young girl and her mother instantly attempted to grab her daughter and bring her back to the ground. Unfortunately all that happened was that her hand got stuck, as if held in place by concrete. Violet was able to carefully remove her mother's hand and went to the doorway, holding onto the top of it to prevent herself from floating to the higher ceiling of the room.
Her mother got her father's attention while Violet took in the scene before her. Absolute chaos, and it seemed that she wasn't the only one whose reality had become more interesting. She noticed a passing acquaintance of her parents and a girl who seemed slightly familiar were among those people, seeing that one of them had somehow attracted a nearby metal table and nearly knocked them both unconscious with it. That is, before the boy split it in half when he reached out to block it. She tried to remember the boy's name. Afton, perhaps? She concluded that she had spent too much time in the "Five Nights at Freddy's" theory forums recently and turned her attention back to her parents. Her mother had already told her father not to touch her, and he had brought over a strong cable from somewhere in the room, telling her to grab onto it tightly. She did, and her father was able to slowly drag her along towards the exit as if she were a balloon, despite the immense effort required on his part. During this time it seemed that cooler heads had prevailed among some of the others at the event, as the boy and girl she thought she recognized had gathered some of the other survivors and seemed to be talking about meeting up again later to figure out what the hell had happened here. Violet took a mental note of the time and location that she overheard as she left. She managed to crawl inside her humble Nissan Ultima and floated on its ceiling until she was back home, where her parents helped her get inside. She mimed what she had overheard to her parents so they would write it down and then set her impressive mind to figuring out the phenomenon that she now had to live. ---

--- With the help of her family and three friends the week following the gala had been very productive. Violet not only learned how to move almost as effectively as a normal person, but was able to pinpoint what was happening around her. With a diabetic father her symptoms were quickly recognized and the association between her phenomenon and blood sugar was learned, and shortly after the correlation between her ability to influence the phenomenon and her blood pressure was discovered. However, she wasn't able to figure out what it was that was happening until a chance encounter at a perfect time gave her the first clue. Having three online friends who were also bored with how easy their college work was for a year now proved invaluable as well. The four would constantly send each other difficult experiments and puzzles to solve, something that she took advantage of by recording her experiments with the phenomenon and carefully making the videos seem edited rather than genuine. The "chance encounter" was simply a wasp getting inside her home while she was conducting an experiment. With black marker on her fingers to allow her to claim that the "special effects" were motion tracking, the wasp suddenly became trapped near her, its wings no longer moving despite it continuing to stay in midair as it slowly moved closer to her finger. She consistently moved away from it yet it simply began moving towards her chest instead, causing her to run from it to behind the camera, where the wasp began moving again and flew away.
Still unable to figure out what was happening, she sent this newest video to her three friends where one quickly made a likely hypothesis. "Is the trick that you're affecting vectors in these videos?" That hadn't even occurred to her. "Elaborate." He quickly launched into a wonderfully concise explanation of the phenomenon, citing the various experiments she had sent and how the things shown in them behaved. As he did, another of her friends quickly calculated the math behind it, agreeing with the newest theory. Violet was stunned by the realization and admitted defeat, claiming they had solved her newest puzzle. Then began her more extensive experiments to confirm and expand on this theory. Finally, twelve days after the gala, she had finished a fifth notebook and considered her theory complete. Along with her experiments and tests came experience with her influence over her new ability. She finally was able to move without much effort and as effectively, or in some cases better, than she could before the gala. ---

"Geeeeeez~" Violet said as she stretched her sore arms. Targeting the correct places to exude force from seemed to still be beyond her grasp. At least alternating between weightless and earthbound had become something approaching second nature. Today was the day her father said her weights would be finished, so she wouldn't need to worry about it anymore. She glanced at the floor near the stairs that led to her bedroom, where several backpacks and a guitar case sat attached to a five-foot metal pole, large bolts screwed onto both ends to prevent them from falling off. Her six inch think metal backpack sat nearby as well, along with several survival tools and spools of thin but sturdy metallic wire. For all she knew today would be the last day she'd ever see her parents again; she'd be damned if she wouldn't give them the simple comfort of knowing she was prepared for anything she could come across. A quick push from her foot and a few mental equations had her sailing through the air through the kitchen and into the living room on its other side.

"Do officials have any leads or suspects at this time?" came from the television.

It seemed her mother had been watching the news while Violet did her practice exercises. She waved at her so she'd know that she was in the room.

A second woman responded to the first news reporter. "At this time we really don't know. Investigators are looking at this from every angle, and pursuing every possible avenue. There are medical experts trying to determine what exactly killed the attendees. There are, however, a few names that keep popping up. Ashton Conway, Jennifer "JJ" Jureau, and Luna Yvilkov. These three are wanted for more questioning, but officials currently do not believe they were in anyway responsible for what happened. If you see or have any information about these three do not approach them and call the police."

Violet's mother looked at her with a concerned expression. She recognized two of those names. It didn't help that Violet had claimed they were the two who set up the meeting that her daughter was planning to go to once her husband returned.

"Thank you for your time, Jennifer. That was Jennifer Nettles, our Field Corespondent. Again Ashton Conway, Jennifer "JJ" Jureau, and Luna Yvilkov are only wanted for questioning. They are not currently suspects. Please do not approach or attempt to apprehend them. If you have any information relating to their whereabouts please call the police... Coming up after the break, celebrity news."

Of course it was. Celebrity news was always going on in this city. Violet had to stifle a laugh. From what she'd just heard she'd consider the past minute or two as celebrity news, what was the point of calling it something else? Her mother muted the T.V. and looked at her.

"Violet..." She didn't need to say anything, her daughter could tell what she wanted to say already and they both knew it.

"Hehe~ Momentai, mom. It sounds like I'm not a suspect, and as long as there's not a warrant on them, they shouldn't be able to get me on association charges either." She gently jumped the few feet between them and gave her mother a hug. "I'll be careful. Besides, you're the one who's been in contact with them before. I'm more worried about you getting in trouble." She paused for a moment in thought as she let go of the hug. "I'm sure they plan to go somewhere else and from what you've told me, Ashton is smart enough to get through this. Try not to rat us out, eh?" She laughed, and soon enough it had spread to her mother as well.

"Remember to keep your sugars up and not to talk to strangers if you can avoid it." Violet just nodded in response as the door opened and her father stepped inside.

"Hey, honey. All packed up?" Again, Violet simply nodded. Ever since she re-learned how to speak the three of them had been collecting anything she could possibly need to survive on her own. They all knew she couldn't just stay there, the stigma was too much as it was and seemed to only grow worse.

Violet quickly went to her bedroom and changed clothes. Comfortable underwear, black athlete's spats, and comfortable cargo shorts under her nearly knee-length grey skirt, check. Athletic socks with warming socks on top that went up to her knees and simple black athletic shoes, check. Her favorite black sports bra and her most comfortable purple tank top, the exact size of all the others in her closet yet somehow it felt better than the rest, this one bearing a large green heart on the front, check. She grabbed her favorite sweatshirt and went back downstairs; she'd already packed many duplicates of this outfit in her backpacks. When she reached the bottom she quickly gave her father a hug before fitting the heavy, six-inch diameter metal bracers her father had brought to her legs. Finally, she put her sweatshirt on and put the matching arm bracers on over top, completing her outfit and finally giving her weight without needing to use her ability to get it.

"Thanks, dad. And... thank you, both of you... for everything." She and her parents said a tearful goodbye over the last meal they might ever eat together, then Violet picked up the metal pole holding her supplies, put the metal backpack on carefully under her sweatshirt while making sure it was hidden, and placed all of the loose equipment in the compartments in her new bracers. Finally, she was ready to leave her house for the first time since the events of the gala.

---

Violet finally found herself on the rooftop across from her destination. Apparently nobody had considered that a minor would survive the gala, since they picked a meeting place that required ID. A perfect fake one still wouldn't do much for someone who looked as young as her, but it made for a good first option. She set down her supplies, unscrewed the end to remove her guitar case, and quickly found the bag containing the several fake IDs she'd gotten in the past week. She also grabbed her most recent Japanese ID in the hopes that she could trick the bouncer with it. Bouncers are stupid, right? That's why they pick a job like that. She'd read enough stories to know that. With her guitar case slung over her shoulder she carefully jumped down into the alley to her side and walked around to the street, outside of the bouncer's view.

The club seemed not to be very busy since there wasn't a line, so the bouncer immediately noticed Violet as she walked over to him.

"Konnichiwa!" she said as she raised a hand to wave at him.

The man simply looked at her, nonplussed.

Shit. Not a great start. "How are you doing?" She finally reached him and pulled out her old Japanese ID and showed it to him.

He looked it over without even bothering to grab it from her. "Sorry, but you've gotta be twenty-one to enter."

"I'm totally twenty-one!"

"Then I'll need to see an American ID of some sort."

So much for that plan then. Violet reached in her pocket and brought out another ID. "Here."

Once again, the man didn't even bother taking it from her. "Sorry, but there's no way you're old enough, and I'm not going to let a kid go in and get drunk."

"Get drunk? Nah buddy," she said as she patted her guitar case a couple times. "I'm the entertainment for tonight." She pointed a finger between the man's eyes indignantly. "And I'll have you know that I work very hard to look this young."

"I never heard anything about some kid coming in to play guitar." Bastard.

"Yeah, alright, fine. If I give you three hundred dollars will you go away for thirty seconds?"

"You want me to risk my job for three hundred bucks?"

Fucking... She was getting annoyed. "Seven hundred?"

The man stared at her for a moment, then turned his head to the side and subtly held out his hand. Finally. Violet pulled a wad of hundreds out of her pocket and put seven in his hand as she walked past him into the building. Good boy. Now, where to find the others?

She walked up to the bartender and put on her sweetest, most innocent facade. "Um... sir? Could you please tell me where your private rooms are? My daddy said to wait for him there if I can't find him..."

It seemed like the bartender barely heard her over the discord filling the room, but luckily his surprise at her youth had focused his attention on her. He gave her directions and soon she was standing in front of several doors. Seeing one that said "Occupied," she spent several minutes attempting to knock and being baffled from her phenomenon preventing any sound from occurring. Finally, she figured out how to counter it and knocked on the door several times, an annoyed look on her face at the challenge.

Ashton got bored, drinking a cup of water that was filled for him on the table while he awaited the other guests. He didn't know how many would show up, if at all. He was expecting at least one person, the other one that was on the news. He didn't know her too well but he did recognize her to say the least. When she walked in, he smiled, turning the swivel chair to face her.

"And you must be Jennifer, I take it? I'm Ashton and this is Luna, I'm sure you've heard of us. Please, take a seat. I don't see why we can't start a dicussion now. We're wanted for "questioning", so that means our faces are on the news for that shit storm that happened a few weeks ago." Ashton paused, waiting for everybody to sit as he went on.

"As you may be aware, the general public seems to dislike us to a strong degree. Shutting us out, saying rude things, there was even a shooting in one of my offices. It's getting scary to say the least, and they're just hating us more now that they know who we are. My business tanked, but I managed to save it by flipping it over to my Vice President. Money will not be an issue, all my assets are fine for the time being..."

Suddenly he heard a knock on the door, and he turned towards it, raising an eyebrow. "Uh, yes? Come in." As the girl walked in he glanced her over, seeing she was much too young for a club. Then he suddenly recognized her from the charity event.

"Ah, I think I saw you at the Gala. Here, you must be here for the meeting. We just started." Under normal circumstances he wouldn't be this willing to sit around and talk to two strangers, but at the moment he was desperate.

"So, as I said before, most of us are wanted informally and we're social outcasts in this city. That is why I suggest we leave, take any personal items and book it out of here. Somewhere far, I don't know where. I have a feeling leaving for a while where we aren't well known and laying low until this all blows over is our best option. I don't know how long we'll be gone but hopefully not long. I know I'm not much of a friend to most if not all of you, but for the sake of our circumstances I can only really trust the people in this room. We all went through that thing and survived. Now we need to survive everybody else." Ashton finished, adjusting his collar as he sipped some of his water. Leaning forward, he had a slight pleading look on his face.

"So what do you guys say? Is there anything else anybody would like to add?"

---

Parker sat with her knees drawn up into the seat, rest her chin on her legs as they bumped along in the cruiser. The girl watched through the windshield as they passed through the small town that was Harlan. As they passed the town square, she saw people glance at the car, staring at her and her brother through the window of the car. Their intrusive, invasive eyes watched them, and she could practically see them taking mental notes to tell everyone else in town that DeMarcus and Parker Blake were going to the jailhouse. She could hear the remarks: "I reckon! The black boy and the prostitute's daughter is goin' to jail. Is'uh 'bout time!"

She leaned her head back against the seat and stared at the ceiling. They'd gone to great length to hide their newfound "abilities" from the public, but she was sure people had some idea. Word got out in a small town like Harlan and it spread like a wildfire in the middle of summer: fast and nonstop. She glanced over at DeMarcus, who was looking through his window at the passersby. "Do you think they know?" She asked, beckoning his attention.

DeMarcus looked down in thought for a moment, then back to his sister. "I don't doubt that word has spread, but there's nothin' nobody can claim to truth, because there's no evidence." He said, though he knew the likelihood of spreading rumors to be higher than not.

"Oh please, you know what town we live in." Parker retorted. She knew he had said what he did to simply reassure her, but it didn't really work. Still, she appreciated his efforts to keep her confident. She sat back and leaned against his much larger body as an oversized pillow. She knew that they probably wouldn't be going home for a while, so she wished she had brought an actual pillow. The first thing she would do when they got to the station was sleep until someone came and gave her a reason not to. Maybe the NSA would show up and lock them all in Guantanamo bay and run tests to harness their superpowers to weaponize them and take over the world... but that was only one possibility.

As the cruiser cruised into the station, Deputy McFarland pulled the vehicle to a halt. The car settled, parked, and the ignition faded. McFarland's partner, a man DeMarcus couldn't name, walked around and opened the door. He stepped out, pulling his bag with him. Parker crawled across the seat and climbed out the same door, staying as close to her brother as possible. She carried her camera backpack in her right hand. The nameless deputy looked at the backpack, seeing the word, "Canon" across the fabric.

"You got you a camera in there?" He jabbed a finger at her bag.

"No it's a polycarbonate, foldable AR-15 with a full-auto mod." She responded. "Yes, it's a camera." She followed DeMarcus as they walked towards the police station.

"We ain't fans of cameras in the station, lil' missy." He protested.

She did her best to mock his accent, "I ain't a fan of being woken up at five in the mornin', neither." She said, and then in her normal voice, "Also, it's my 1st Amendment Right: Freedom of Press and all. Sue me." She entered the station as DeMarcus held the door open for her, hearing the deputy mutter something about a punk brat.

As DeMarcus followed his sister into the station, he greeted the young woman at the front desk. "Hey there, Lorrie." He said. He didn't know her too well, but he'd went to high school with her brother; they were good people. They were pointed back to the break room, where Parker immediately sat her bags down and laid on the floor, looking like she was ready to go back to sleep. DeMarcus saw Elijah Craigh sitting against the wall. "Elijah, you got some idea of what's goin' on? I'd like some answers if you got any." He asked, looking at the man.

The blonde leaned on a wall with her head down and her arms crossed with the automatic gun slung on her shoulder. It seemed that she had been resting, having no intention of speaking more with the male who now serves as both her client and friend. She opened one eye to look at the TV displaying the news. They were wanted for questioning? Out of all the people who had exited the gala, only three were going to be questioned? There were far more who had gained powers, she was sure of that.

She took a deep breath and let out a sigh. It was a good thing that clubs treasure money more than the law. Hopefully, with the amount of money given to them, it would convince them to treat them as one of their VIP guests, and thus, be guided to a back exit of some sort when someone decides to barge in and take them out. Besides, violence inside the club is something that everyone knows not to do. Truly, she hoped that no one would come searching for them - and if someone did, the club's staff would treat them well. If not, well, they were on their own.

As she closed her eyes once more, a knock came upon the door and it swung open, revealing another woman who Ashton referred to as Jennifer. She raised her head to look at the newcomer. From what she can see, the woman's body was conditioned. She had probably undergone some sort of training. She was a familiar face though. She pushed herself off of the wall and then gave her a bow of her head when she was introduced to the female. Then Ashton began to speak and Luna paid little heed to what he had been saying - they had already discussed what they were going to do with each other so there was no need for her to actually listen closely to what he had to say.

The another set of knocking came and the door was opened... to reveal a girl probably a decade younger than her. She looked familiar. She has definitely seen this one even before the gala. Her mind raced for her name. Names and faces are something she does not forget easily. And then it clicked, "Ah, Ms. Violet Black. It is a pleasure to see you again. Though the circumstances could have been better." The girl is the daughter of a client. They were introduced to each other as formality and so that Violet would not fear the sight of her, nor be cautious. She turned to Ashton who was a bit confused about what a young girl was doing here, "This is Ms. Violet Black. She is the daughter of two successful business owners whom I have worked under for some time. A smart child so don't let her age fool you."

After she explained that, she quieted down and allowed Ashton to continue speaking. Once he was done and was now wanting a reply from the others, she listened in more intently. Hopefully, it wouldn't be too bad.

Have you ever drowned without being underwater? Because that's how Lynette was feeling. Her body felt like it was floating; weightless in the crushing silence around her. Her mind had blocked out the world. It muffled the man in the front seat. It blinded her from the curious faces outside. The numbness had consumed her but at least the tears had stopped falling. Her body no longer shook with the shock of betrayal but instead a thin thread of anger had begun to grow in its place.

She wasn't even aware they had arrived at the police station until the door opened next to her. The mornings cool air stealing her from her isolation and thrusting her back into her pained reality. "Miss, you need to come inside." the deputy ushered when the youth failed to emerge on her own.

Lynette wanted to refuse. She wanted to demand to go home but her body silently obeyed as she crawled out of the vehicle. Clutching her pack to her chest she followed behind the man, eyes glued to his heels in attempt to ignore the knowing looks cast at them. She didn't feel like she was floating anymore. Her body felt tight and raw. "Alright, here we go. Just wait in here with the others and someone will be with you guys in a moment."

Lynette nodded and stepped inside only to be greeted with a few familiar faces. Parker was the first person she saw; sprawled out on the floor with what seemed to be a relaxed take to the whole situation. Her brother was off to the side a little, talking to someone. It took a minute of staring before his name bubbled to the surface,'Elijah' He was a bit of a myth around town. Her parents often warned her to stay away from the likes of him. Looking at him now he didn't seem the scary, shady character from her parents cautioning but then again he was at the police station.

She moved over to the corner and leaned against it. "What a way to start the day." Lynette joked as she looked up at the buzzing lights above. "I wonder what's going to happen next." It didn't seem like she was talking to anyone in particular. More like talking out loud as she fought the tears that stung in her eyes once again. She didn't want to cry but there was no stopping it. Lynette's face crumpled as she slid down the wall to the floor below. She hurt. Every part of her hurt and it came out in ugly sobs.

She hid her battered face in her pack in attempt to muffle her cries; desperately wishing she'd disappear or that she'd wake up safe and warm in her bed. This couldn't be real. Could it?

"Wait a minute," Jennifer interrupted, leaning forward on the able with both arms crossed in front of her, "I know we're wanted for questioning by the police, but we didn't actually commit any crime. They have no reason to hold us if we don't cooperate, much less stick a false charge to our name. Despite the public's opinion, and multiple businesses' refusal to work with us, we shouldn't go on the run. The bank can't hold my assets, I mean, on what grounds are they allowed to do so?"

Jennifer paused for a moment, knowing that she was getting a bit more defensive than she'd intended. But the entire situation was ridiculous, especially when she never asked for any of it, as was probably the case with everyone else in that room.

"Look, I know our lives here are difficult; I mean, I'm on temporary leave from the university until further notice, but we have to face those threats and take care of the problem, not run away. We're not criminals, we're victims, and I believe that we're being treated unfairly and unfortunately, we have to take matters into our hands. You have plenty of money, right?" she continued, turning to Ashton, "why don't you have your attorney talk to the police so they can make a public statement regarding their concern for our safety, remind the rest of the citizens that coming after us is still illegal. We have to lay low, I agree with that, but we can at least try to take care of the problem while we're at it."

"Well about..." Eli's eyes wandered to a clock on the wall. "Four and half hours ago. I gutshot a guy in a goat mask just outside my house. Then goatboy just went up in flames and there was that Wilson boy, tied to a tree with razor wire and he was..." Eli let a small laugh that only showed his own disbelief in what was going on. "Skinned, no eyes, no face..."

He shook his head as he got to his feet and stretched out. As he walked over to the coffee pot and poured himself a cup. He couldn't help but notice Lynette as she walked in, her face looked terrible. Fresh bruises, eyes that looked like she had been crying, and a face that said her whole world had been crushed. Then the tears came as she slid down the wall.

He looked over at DeMarcus and Parker. They looked no worse for the wear they've been under. He was almost surprised that they looked so good. Linehouse must have sent one of the few good sheriffs to pick them up. Slowly made his way to the crying Lynette and squatted down in front of her. He let a heavy sigh before speaking. "Alright girl, you're alright. Lyn...nette, right? Come on let me see." He tried to be comforting but he was far from good at it. He didn't give her a chance to reply before he lifted her head as softly as he could. He was sure that as soft as he trying to be, his calloused hands were rough on her.

"Wow, they got you good sweetheart... Is it just your head or did they get you anywhere else." He couldn't say why but this screamed of drunk cowards looking to prove something. Eli wished to hell he had been there.

"One of you mind getting a first aide kit." He said looking at the siblings. He no sooner got the words out of his mouth before something made him look at the door. Something was off about the sounds coming from the other side of the door. It sounded like... Something braking...? Yelling...? Did the people outside breakthrough?

---

DeMarcus watched as Elijah tended to the girl, Lynette, if he was correct. He turned to walk out of the room as the man asked for a first aid kit. As soon as he stepped out, however, he heard the banging against the station door. He heard the voices, too - Angry voices. He saw that Lorrie was looking in the same direction, worry on her face. "Sheriff!" He shouted. "You might wanna get in here!" The man walked towards the door as Deputy McFarland ran to it. He opened the doors and exposed DeMarcus' ears to the cacophony of voices that came from the mob of people outside the station. He decided to hang back inside as McFarland exited the building.

"SEND OUT THE FREAKS!" Several of the crowd members yelled, mainly the ones on the front line of the mob.

"You folks need to get back, or we will have to enforce the law!" McFarland yelled, his hand hovering near the revolver the was belted to his waist. "You can address us in a civilized manner!" Someone in the front of the crowd turned and waved for people to calm down, and after a moment, the mob of voices died and let silence hang over the area. "Now, what in tarnation do you people want?!"

"We seen you boys draggin' Elijah Craigh and them other folks in the back of yer' cars!" An old man, about two feet shorter than DeMarcus, said. "We know them's a bunch'a powered freaks like rumors been talkin'!"

"I don't know what you want, but these folks are under police custody!" McFarland retorted.

"We went them freaks out here so we can deal with them ourselves and protect this town!"
"YEAH!!" The crowd joined together to cheer.

With a new anger, DeMarcus marched past McFarland and stepped closer to the crowd. By far the largest person in present company, his advance made the frontline of the crowd scurry backwards, startled and slightly frightened. "Protect the town!?" He exclaimed, a bewildered look plastered across his face. "You folks are the ones mobbin' in front of the police station! You're the only danger!" He shook his head in disbelief. "I ain't done a thing to earn your fear! We're good people, all of us! What have we done to frighten you people?!"

A man stepped from the crowd, the sight of whom put a sick feeling in DeMarcus' stomach - Jacob Maclinton. "We ain't scared'a you, Blake!" Maclinton declared in a thick southern drawl. He reeked of tobacco and his disgusting overalls were stained with liquor and booze. "We just ain't fans of freaks like you! You ain't what God made people to be!"

"Maclinton, I bet God cringes ever time you open your mouth. You don't know what you're talkin' about." DeMarcus shook his head. "You need to leave us alone!" He turned, shaking his head and walking back towards McFarland. As he turned, he didn't see the crowbar the slid from Maclinton's sleeve. The man swung, and nailed DeMarcus in the back, sending him to his knees. Deputy McFarland pulled his gun, stopping Maclinton as he was an inch from DeMarcus, ready to swing again. Shouts went up from the crowd as the firearm was pulled.

"Jacob you step yourself right on back there, ya hear me, boy!?" The man said, but Maclinton didn't move, but he bent of and leaned into DeMarcus' ear.

"We're gon kill all'a you sumbitches, ya hear me? They gon' do your little whore sister like they did Tillie Hilton, Blake. Ya hear?" Maclinton spat on DeMarcus' face.

Pure, unbridled rage flowed through DeMarcus as he wiped Maclinton's tobacco filthy spit from his face. "Shut your dam-" Maclinton shoved DeMarcus' shoulder, even though the gesture didn't move him like intended. The redneck laughed like a disgusting hyena.

"You ain't gon' do jack..." He leaned right over DeMarcus' head, his lips nearly touching his ears. "...nigger boy."

DeMarcus felt something inhuman inside him. It wasn't the rage, no the rage was pure, human anger. It was the strength that filled his arms. That, indeed, was not human. He swiveled with astonishing speed, his hand catching Maclinton in the throat. McFarland shouted in protest, but DeMarcus didn't register his voice. Instead, he lifted Maclinton in the air and slammed him onto the cement walkway, sending the whole crowd scattering backwards with shouts of fear and probably breaking several of Maclinton's bones.

With a furrowed brow and a tensed face that radiated his rage, DeMarcus knelt over the man. He put his lips close to his ears, just as Maclinton had done to him. "You keep my sister's name outa your filthy, racist, inbred mouth, or I will snap your neck like a twig!" He stood as the crowd was dead silent, the only audible sound being DeMarcus' deep breathing. He watched the crowd and shook his head in disgust at them.

"DeMarcus!" A new voice broke the silence - Sheriff Linehouse. "Step back and let me deal with these people!" He commanded. This time, however, DeMarcus obeyed and stepped away. The crowd erupted into shouts as they jeered at DeMarcus, surging toward him. They only stopped when three deputies came to Linehouse' side and racked the pumps on their shotguns.

McFarland ushered DeMarcus back inside. DeMarcus saw parker standing by the door, her camera out. A red flashing light told him that she was recording. She'd seen all of it and gotten it all on camera. He sighed as he walked to her. She stopped recording and put her camera down, letting it hang from the strap around her neck. He stood beside her as Linehouse and the deputies shut the doors. "Lorrie, call for backup from the state office, Maclinton's boys are gonna be back, and they'll be packin'."

DeMarcus had a feeling that Linehouse was right. The mob would come back stronger, and they'd try to kill them, with or without police involvement. This was Harlan, Kentucky - this was not a friendly town to outsiders. They were outsiders, now. They were unwanted, unwelcome. This couldn't be the place that he and his sister called home anymore.

Violet sighed. She waved at Luna and smiled at her, then turned to Jennifer and Ashton.

"First things first, turn off your phones. Put them somewhere that sound won't get to." She quickly focused on Jennifer. "And you should be much more concerned than you are. I didn't see you use your phenomenon at the gala like I did these two, but if you're here I have to assume you have one. Haven't you ever read X-men? Seen a documentary on how minorities are treated? Anything? Average people don't care about the law when they're scared, and the government isn't trustworthy enough to put stock in when they consider us dangerous. You three are 'wanted for questioning.' What do you think happens if someone who survived the gala goes to the police, or the government, with stories about what happened there? Do you think anyone would give the benefit of the doubt to people like us? And on top of all that, have you just ignored all the bullshit going on with police in the past... eighty years? There are so many ways for them to arrest you for not complying with their illegal demands that they'd make your head spin. A lawyer would take too long anyway, and eventually the commoners would try to take things into their own hands, especially if more information about the gala gets out."

She turned to focus on Ashton. "And you. What were you thinking? Did you actually drive a lamborghini into one of the worst parts of the city? The attention from that alone could get a mob going, and all it would take is a single check of the license plate to get the police, or worse, to find this place. If there isn't a squad on there way to 'question' you right now then I'll be astounded. At least you have the sense to be planning to leave the city, but you'd better switch to another vehicle or you may as well just stick a neon sign on your head saying 'I'm the guy wanted for being at the scene of a massive investigation.'"

Finally, she turned to Luna and sighed. "I hope you've already gone over this with him, but if you did then I can't fathom why he still chose to bring it. A quick escape is important, but couldn't you have at least removed the license plates first? That's way suspicious to the average commoner."

Violet rubbed her temples and quickly shifted to a more happy-go-lucky persona. "The real question is whether or not to stick together. Assuming the trusting lady is like us, we only really need to decide where to go. Though more information about each other would be useful, no?"

She opened her guitar case, revealing a crimson and azure electric guitar as well as several notebooks, one of which she pulled out along with a pencil. "Honestly, talking out loud here is dangerous. For all we know someone overheard the plan to meet here and already told the police. This room could be bugged, so I suggest we take to this," she waved the notebook in her hand, "to continue. I've already written out some questions I had for anyone who showed up here, and answered them for myself. I highly suggest we pass this around and fill it out rather than openly talking about anything more... sensitive, than we already have." She handed the notebook and pencil to Luna, open to a page asking several questions.

The questions were fairly simple and each one had an answer underneath. What is your name? Violet Black. What is your phenomenon? Psychokinesis. Did you get a symbol? Yes. Draw your symbol. Violet's mark was drawn underneath.

Luna adjusted the strap of her automatic rifle, feeling the weight of it was uncomfortable to a speedy fighter like her. Why she had decided to bring this along made her question her state of mind. Was it because she felt like a pistol couldn't do jack shit anymore? Or was it because wasting the precious ammunition of her beloved pistol wasn't worth it? She wasn't sure, but she was beginning to regret it. She certainly can't leave it behind anymore so she'd just have to soldier the weight until they were at a safe place. Hopefully, she can find a good place to hide this in or else it would just be another clue on where they went.

Her attention snapped back when Jennifer started to speak. Luna was sure that Jennifer wasn't one for the dangerous life and certainly didn't even watch some dramas of it. Some may be unrealistic but they at least held some semblance of truth in them. Once she was done speaking, before Luna could even think of opening her mouth to speak, Violet had already done it for her. The first thing the young girl had said was a warning. Luna didn't carry a cellphone with her anymore, only using stolen phones (which she rarely does to be honest) or disposable phones so no one can track her down. It was one of the rules of HQ. The personal phone would be left at their HQ where it would be hidden until the user comes back after a job.

She listened to Violet's retort to Jennifer's explanation. Before the young girl could proceed with scolding Ashton this time, Luna spoke up. "They know what we are. The people at the gala knows that we have these special powers of some kind, and I would guess that the government already knows about it - the powers I mean. People fear the unknown - and we're the embodiment of that. The government won't just let us off with a simple 'questioning'. Best case scenario is they lock us up. Worst case? Dissection." Luna was a fan of watching TV shows and movies and if some powers just sprout out of nowhere, the government would do everything in their power to obtain this supernatural power and use it for themselves, even at the cost of the person's life. It's one of the reasons why she didn't approach a hidden source within the government to get her out. No amount of strings could pull her out of this mess. Hell, not even HQ could send something to help her in her time of need - and they had so many contacts to the point of ridiculousness. You wouldn't even think that some sort of bodyguard company needed that many contacts.

Luna sighed as Violet continued, scolding Ashton first and then looking at Luna to at least hope that she had done something right. "Apologies. Only having the mindset of getting out as soon as possible does that. But I would also think that no matter how careful we are, we can still be seen. CCTVs are placed all over the city, a passing person could have recognized us - there are still a lot of factors besides a Lamborghini cruising around town." She stopped before taking a deep breath. "And no worries, this club is specifically chosen because of that. High class clubs in the worse parts of town is where the one percent of the population goes so it can be kept a secret - away from prying eyes and away from anyone who might gossip about them." She has seen one too many clients do this and she understood why... and they weren't exactly secretive of how rich they are, choosing to drive some rich-looking car. "But I admit my fault and I apologize for that." Luna understood where Violet was coming from and she was certainly right. Smart girl wasn't she? Stumping people older than her by five years to a decade. She appreciated the young girl's presence.

She nodded once more and then took the notebook and pencil from Violet. She began writing her answers.

What is your name? Luna Yvilkov. What is your phenomenon? Electrokinesis/Lightning manipulation (not too sure). Did you get a symbol? Yes. Draw your symbol. She began making a small sketch of what she had seen in the mirror the other day. A sort of lightning symbol and then shaded it with the pencil.

Since she was done, she then passed it on to Jennifer, the one who was closest to her at the moment besides Violet.