Anomaly

---

Anomaly sat in the VTOL, awkwardly looking around at the other people in the ship as she had a single ghost hand tap the seat beside her, seemingly to pass the time and remove some anxious feelings. She was a bit nervous, since she hadn't been in the field for a good while. She didn't need to be, typically, but when she did get in the field, oh boy was it fun.

Well, "fun" in a very everything-is-trying-to-kill-you way.

Eventually the teen was too tired of the silence and decided to speak up to the rest of her squad for this mission. "How's life going for all of you guys?"

Tony awoke silently, rising out of bed at the early time of 5:40 AM, before hopping in the shower. He always woke up at ungodly hours, and both his sleep and awakening were dead silent - a year or two of living in Wonderland will do that to ya... The cold water hit Tony's back with annoying pattering, and he quickly rushed through his shower with the autonomy of a man who had done something a thousand times over. He pulled on his robe, and quickly shaved his face, leaving the bathroom at 6. He slowly walked over to his own room, before throwing on an old pair of jeans and a shirt that gave him a look of your average city dweller. He then slid onto the couch in the living room, before turning on the morning news - obviously, the top story was about The Covenant, the group that had managed to cause a good portion of Boston to enter lock down for an entire week... All Tony knew was that a declaration of war wasn't going to sit well with anybody from the Wonderland - he knew, cause it sure as hell didn't sit right with him. These people were, more than likely, just crazy people who got some powers. Nothing special. But something about them made them seemed... Organized. Like they actively plan things out, rather than doing something that just sounds cool or satisfies their twisted desires.

Daniel exited the bathroom around 6:30, wearing a nice dress shirt, tie, suit pants, and hurriedly putting a coat on. The kid always woke up a little later than he was supposed to be somewhere, and his morning rush was already normal to Tony.

"Don't forget to pay rent your half of the rent!"

Daniel slammed the door as he ran out, the words he shouted barely heard by Troy. The guy was probably a little paranoid about Troy being able to pay at all considering he only ever saw Tony sitting around all day, and lord knows he is too busy to get more hours at his dead end job. Tony chuckled slightly - with this power, he had already gotten about 5k, all by just saying a few words during poker games or selling things online. This apartment was nice, but nowhere near 10K a month - Tony was able to afford this place alone if he wanted to. But in all honesty, living alone wasn't worth it. After staying in the Wonderland, you are too paranoid about the sounds during the night - it's good when you have somebody that you can blame them on. Tony looked at his new phone, arguably the best he ever owned - 9:45... Well, another movie couldn't hurt. Tony moved from his sitting position to lay down on flat on the couch, before flicking through channels for something good. With this power, he could spend the rest of his life like this - hell, he could probably live even better if he was smart.

A knock at the door alerted him. Groaning, Tony climbed out of the couch, and made his way to the door, fixing his hair as he did so. Upon opening it, he was face-to-face with one of his only friends, arguably the closest he ever had. The scrawny frame fit perfectly with Robby's rat-like appearance, and the dirty clothes he wore only amplified the similarities. Before he even opened his mouth, Tony grabbed him by the shoulders, and pulled him into the apartment, closing the door swiftly as he did so.

"What the hell are you doing here?!"

Robby had fallen to the ground, spilling envelopes everywhere as he did so. He slowly rose to his feet, gathering the envelopes into a pile as he did so.

"Geez man, way to welcome an old friend. I got you off the streets you know."

Tony sighed, helping Robby from the ground. The guy was always good at guilt tripping people, but Tony was pretty used to it. After all, he brought that up for the smallest of reasons, including trying to get a muffin Tony bought for breakfast. Tony smirked - Robby hadn't changed in the slightest.

"Guess I'm just a little anxious to find out what a member of one of the craziest gangs in Boston wants with me."

"Yeah, very funny. Look, Pipeline told me to give you a message - We're having another circus, and he wants you to be a ringleader, so be sure to stop by sometime -."

Tony grabbed Robby by the shoulder, before shaking his head.

"Love the offer, but I can't man. No offense, but the time I spent there was god awful - I'd be fine with never seeing another circus in my life."

This was when it came on - the puppy dog eyes, the stammering, Robby's secret weapon.

"C'mon man, it'll be just like old times... B-besides, Pipeline said you could even keep any money we win!"

"Dammit... Fine. You owe me for this - I want as little to do with that place as possible."

Robby smirked.

"Thanks man, saved me. Quick question though... You busy right now?"

Tony sighed, not liking where this was going.

"What is it?"

"Nothing big - I just need to go and deliver some 'invitations'. Wouldn't mind having a little extra muscle in case things go sour though."

Tony covered his face with his hand, hiding his contemplation. He could go, but that would mean getting needlessly involved with Wonderland again... He sure as hell knew that anybody that caught him working with a bunch of crazies like that would shoot first and ask questions later... But Pipeline knew who was okay and who was a problem, so they most likely wouldn't encounter any rats or people who wanted to start a fight with them...

"Fucking fine... Wait a little bit."

Tony ran to his room, grabbed a coat hanging on the door handle, and jogged back, sliding it on as Robby opened the door for him.

"It's great to have you back, buddy."

The pair exited the apartment, before making there way onto the unusually barren streets.

"Who's first?"

“Well, Robby replied, “take your pick.”

Holding out two envelopes, one was coloured in a deep red, with the other was a paler, platinum blue. “We’ve got a delivery to make to the Covenant via a little cafe Pipeline seems to think will be able to get them the message. Sickle-Cell made his debut in the Circus, about a year back. I think Pipeline wants to ensure he gets the chance to step back up, if he wants. Maybe we could convince him. He made Wonderland a small fortune last time.”

“Alternatively, we have an invite bound for the Alverton Building. Probably just hand it to reception and ask them to make sure it gets to Maxwell.” A wicked grin spread over Robby’s face. “Unless you wanna try hand it to him personally?”

He thumbed across a final envelope, of alabaster white. “This one is for the Protectorate, of all places. He wants it handed to the PRT base in Mission Hill. Although, there doesn’t seem to be one for Gladius. That’s strange.”

@Duoya

---

Gestalt cracked a smile as she fiddled with the mask in her hands. “Not half bad. Finally feel like I’m settling into this city.”

Chuckling, Septima began to stretch her arms left and right, limbering up for the coming conflict. “The people here are… colourful.” Her eyes creased at the corners, only just visible behind her mask. “You might not always like it, but you’ll never be bored.”

Taking stock of the Ward, she tilted her head. “Come to think of it, you haven’t been here too long, have you? We’ve never met. I’m Kairi,” she said, beginning to offer a hand before realising her mistake. “O-oh. Um… sorry. Damnit, this is not the way to make a good first impression.”

“I’m Nola!” Gestalt suddenly called out, as if to distract from the subject. “Kairi’s been a Ward here for almost a year. She’s a good person. A bit of friendly advice, though. Don’t even switch sides. Her power is scary.”

Kicking her friend in the shins, Kairi grumbled. “Hey, it’s not like I picked it or anything.”

@Banana@PlatinumSkink

---

Liquid fire burned into the back of one of Askaryan’s legs. It instantly began to buckle from under him, although he kept enough control to pivot mid-fall. From the corner of his eye, the air was a faint shimmer, and a blade outlined with blood from his new wound arced through it. Using his power on his costume, it continued to drag him to the ground without slowing. The movement wrenched him around, and a second blow caught him straight in the face.

A sick crack accompanied the strike, causing his power to falter and sending him reeling into the door of a nearby car. Whatever was keeping his assailant hidden began to fail, revealing a female figure bearing down on him - one he didn’t recognise. Blood coated one hand, and a blade held in the other. Pain radiated through his entire face, and his nose was bent at a crooked angle. Pressing it with a finger, he lazily smirked.

“You bitch,” he laughed. “Definitely not one of the regular Gladius fuckwits. That’s good, I like a broad with a bit of fight.” As he tried to stand, the wounded leg slightly buckled, sending him back to the floor. “Nice shot,” he said, grabbing a handful of small pieces of concrete knocked loose from the conflict. “My turn.”

Rising to a knee, he focused his power through the objects and hurled them at the girl.

@Lasrever

---

A few of the Gladius mooks, noticing the sudden display of power, turned their attention to the young girls and leveled their weapons, preparing to fire. “No,” the cape in biker gear barked at them. “She’s mine.”

Taking off at a dead sprint, the chain from the end of each hand made a rasping sound as it scraped along the ground. Leaping several feet in the air, the cape spun and brought both of the heavy chains to bear on her target.

@knifeman

---

In the middle of the battle, a man strolled out of an alleyway. His browny-yellow cloak fluttered in the winds kicked up by the various parahuman abilities on display. Taking a single deep breath in, his exhale was long and drawn-out

“Ah, there is nothing quite like the smell of chaos in the morning,” he proclaimed to no-one in particular. With a bit of focus, a glob of petrol appeared around his right hand, which he promptly threw atop the burning car. A vicious hiss sounded, before the flames coating the vehicle redoubled in a roaring bang.

“Well. Time to have some fun!”

---

Alice looked at the screen in front of her, in the heart of the facility.

She'd already added several specimens to her personal collection in her body. And now she was contemplating her next move.

It would take several days to make all the connections to her personal Killswitch, a way to prevent any future attacks against her person. What she was going to do would likely make enemies, and she was going to be ready.

Within two hours the CDC was going to announce a cure to nearly a dozen diseases. The cold and flu strains that existed were going to be eradicated. Malaria. Several other less important ones were to be cured.

It wasn't hard to release bacteria and viruses groups in the form of a cure, and they actually would actively work to stop these relatively simple diseases.

All part of the plan.

All part of Alice getting exactly what she wanted.

She sent a message to the local head of the PRT, along with every major crime organization leader that she had access to through simple means over the last two weeks. While all would be worded the same, it wouldn't be apparent that more than one copy existed.

Holly took a moment to catch her breath and continue looking for an escape when Mandy caught her attention.

“Look out!”

Holly’s head whipped around to where her sister was looking, and she saw a cape wielding huge chains coming towards them, obviously hostile. Her heart jumped as the woman leapt into the air, and she reflexively raised the car door she had been using as a shield, hoping it would be strong enough to withstand the attack.

Mandy, just as panicked, shouted, “What are you doing?! We don’t have anything to do with this!!”

A powerful explosion made both girls scream. Holly, still holding the door in the air, tried to shield her sister as best as she could, trying to focus on making any shrapnel that came close stop in the air.

In the back of her mind, Holly thought that it was a miracle that she hadn’t started crying and hyperventilating yet. It usually took way less than this to send her spiraling. Now, though, she was focused, aware, confident. Must be the adrenaline.

She looked off to the side and saw someone who wasn’t there before. He looked too… serene. Almost excited. It was unsettling.

The static energy or Gestalt’s touch felt a bit stinging on her skin, but knowing what it was for Knight let that happen before she placed her helmet back. Then, she formed the sword. If she could shape something like that already, then she was fine. At Gestalt’s statement, of how interesting it should be to have two Knights, Knight smiled.

‘It should be.’ She acknowledged. Having Gestalt borrow her power was honestly a relief. By herself, she worried if her power would be enough to protect them. Now there were two of her, plus Gestalt having a bit more. It was good to have.

Soon enough, she with the others jumped into the VTOL of their choice, looking at the others. She considered if she should be making strategies, but they sort of already knew what to do. Instead, the first word was from Anomaly, who asked how life was. Knight smirked, that was the typical question. She considered what to answer.

Though, Septima and Gestalt began. And they began by presenting their real identities. Knight gave the briefest of a chuckle. To think, had she just been a bit younger, she’d have been a Ward with them. … She might have been more comfortable with that. She certainly felt more at home with these girls, despite them being younger, than currently did with the other heroes who all overshadowed her when it came to experience. Eh, give it time.

‘I’m Rosaline.’ Was she supposed to tell? Probably not. She didn’t want to be the odd one out, though. ‘I think I’m doing fairly well.’ She had skipped going to college to focus full-time on being Knight, realizing that doing both was something her inherent laziness wouldn’t be able to handle. Except for training, her free-time were lazy hours… Mostly because there always was so much to do when she was working.

‘I’ve successfully established my place in the Boston Protectorate, just like my dad had. Next up is protecting the city and getting a good reputation. … Guess that’s what we’re heading to try to achieve, now. For all of us.’ She said, turning to look out, holding on as the craft was likely going to start heading out soon enough. This was all assuming the Covenant or any other madmen wasn’t going to be successful in killing them all…

Oh, and she hadn’t kept it a secret that she was the disappeared Boston hero Retribution’s daughter. He had never been unmasked, as far as she knew, so it was fine.

@Sickle-cell@Banana

“Well, suppose it’s time to move,” Mary muttered, almost disappointedly. Dragon turned off the TV, the images of the wreckage shot from civilian phones and nearby TV helicopters that could do nothing but film and hope not to get caught up in things. What had started as a small, contained fight seemed to have become large and dangerous, which meant innocents were in danger. They couldn’t let that happen.

Mary went into the shop’s back, and returned after a few minutes, clad now in some basic child-sized paramilitary-wannabe airsoft gear. The city-colored camo blended into the grays of the shop, though the orange tips on her various airsoft weapons, revealing their fake, plastic nature, gave her position away easily. She wore a sensible setup of active hearing protection, a mask with air filters, goggles, and a military-grade helmet to protect her various exposed vitals. Magazines for her AR-15-style rifle and her little pistol were jammed into her plate holder, and she did a quick test fire of a few shots into the ground. Each BB, filled with Dragon’s gas and coated in a mixture of ground matchheads and glue, exploded on contact. She surveyed the smoking holes each shot had left in the concrete, and nodded. She didn’t look it, but she was lethally armed.

Dragon held out a hand, and they wrapped their fingers around each other’s wrists. Mary walked up front and clipped straps through some of the odd gaps in Dragon’s metal physiology, and gave the thumb up when all seemed secure. “Let’s go kill some creeps,” Dragon said, and in a burst of fire, the two rocketed away from their lonely base of operations.

It did not take long for them to get anywhere in Boston, given Dragon’s flight speed, and it was easy enough to pick out their target due to the smoke and hovering reporters. They aimed for a low roof nearby, within 100 yards of the main fighting, and landed. Mary surveyed the helicopters as they worked on disconnecting. “Should we do something about those?”

“I thought we wanted to be seen.”

Mary swished her mouth back and forth before nodding. It was okay, she hadn’t seen any other fliers who might put those civilians in danger. She crouched down, pulling out her longer-range weapon as she inched toward the roof’s edge. The situation was chaos down below, gunfire less common now than the explosions and displays of power being pulled off by the parahumans. “Cover,” she commanded, and Dragon got to work mixing and burning her gasses carefully to create an inky smoke that covered the roof. They would probably die of cancer earlier than normal, but at least anyone who decided to turn weapons on the roof wouldn’t know exactly where Mary was.

“Thanks. I’ll take this chain guy, I think that’s a civilian behind the car shield.” Mary pointed out the aforementioned Mandy, and Dragon nodded.

“I’ll take that guy. I think he’s fire based, I should be safe.” For a moment they stared at each other, and then bumped fists. “Stay safe.”

“Yeah, cya soon.” Mary looked down her scope, and Dragon used a burst of propulsion to fling herself into the sky. The one-ton metallic monstrosity angled herself to fall in a body slam on her target, and Mary opened fire with 800 RPM of firework-equivalent explosives that streamed toward the one with the chain.

---

"And you are? The Driver" The woman before me asked, in a voice that was clearly displeased despite it's muffled distortion. With a bow of my head, I responded politely.

"Among other things, Mr. Maxwell employs me for a number of services; Interrogation, Information, Assassination, and more often then not, a wonderful cocktail. My name is Mathias Parker. However while caped, please, Call me Fodem."

Many would consider revealing one's true identity to be a dangerous move, I however believed trust between coworkers to be of paramount importance in this line of work. Lives could be lost or saved by distrust between partners, and I had nothing to lose from others knowing my true identity. I had no remaining family to lose, and I wouldn't regret losing them if I did. In addition, I was quite certain I could defend myself from any prospective dangers, I'd yet to be attacked by someone that stood a chance against my threads.

Turning my attention away from Taser, I retrieved a key from my front pocket and inserted it into the 'Firemen' slot, and turned it. As I did so, A small compartment unlocked and revealed an extra button to the top-floor, as I pressed it, the elevator began to rise smoothly.

"After today's assignment, I'd like to invite you to my bar, Quindecim. It's nearby, and I can guarantee you'll enjoy my drinks. Speaking of which, do have any leads on what today's assignment might be?"

@FancyHats@hagroden@Sickle-cell

"I can shed some light on that," came a voice from nowhere, echoing into the ears of both Taser and Fodem like a ghostly presence. "Introductions are in order. I am Anonymous, information broker, part time contractor for the Consortium. Mr. Maxwell's superior requires that you escort me to Allston."

Collin stabbed two eyes into the piece of wood he had been widdling. Stab. Stab. Stab. Like the never ending constant assault on his brain, stabbing and piercing always always always! Oh. He ruined the carving block. That was a shame. Discarding the piece he was displeased with, Collin produced a second wood block from his suit jacket.

"Though I should advise you now, you will not see me. I never meet anyone face to face. No fret though. So long as you do your job, I will be there to do mine."

I told you no onions on this burger! Jesus fucking Christ I spelled it out for you assholes! How stupid are you?!

Do do dodo. Mahna Mahna. Heh. Love that song.

He's coding! Get the paddles, setting four. Clear!

Anomaly

---

A psychic hand flew over to Kairi's outstretched one, shaking it firmly as it disappeared into nothingness. "It's cool. I'm honestly more comfortable when people treat me like I have arms." She had them, too. They just... they didn't appear there physically, is all. "I haven't been here for too long, but I'd like to think I'm at least semi-capable."

"I'm Xoxi." Boy, that name sounded quite stupid in her head. While it was pretty dope, it was a name her mom chose for her, and considering their relationship, the two didn't necessarily like each other. "I'm here to make my dad feel sweet, being a hero is just a good perk of that."

A psychic hand reformed yet again, grabbing ahold of the bandanna around Xoxi's neck and pulling it up. She didn't have a mask just yet, but her hoodie and bandanna served as a good replacement until then. She was too caught up on designs, and while she narrowed it down, three masks were still hard to choose from. "How'd you guys get your powers? I-if you don't mind me asking, anyway."

@PlatinumSkink@Sickle-cell

Heavy chains battered down against the car door, strike after strike stripping chunks of metal away. The barrier between the leather-clad cape and the two girls cowering behind it was getting thinner by the second. Rasping metal and harsh clashes echoed around the entire alley, until they abruptly stopped.

Sidestep swiveled her head to look at a nearby rooftop, before instantly swinging the chains in that direction. A torrent of explosive gunfire came crashing down towards her. With serpentine movements, she blocked or repelled some shots with her twin chains and dodged yet more, all the while trying to shift into position. Coiling up like an athlete, she let rip.

Springing to life, Sidestep took off at great speed towards the building, continuing to dodge shots on the way - from both her unseen assailant, and the Wonderland mooks. Running up the bonnet of a car, she kicked off the top using both feet. With precision movements, she blitzed from window-ledge to window-ledge, leaping into the air. Swinging one chain up to catch the underside of a balcony, she used the momentum to surge upwards and land atop the building - but with a chain short.

The smoke up here was thick, and the gunfire had stopped. Taking a step forward into the murky black, she was temporarily blind. Given the accuracy of her attacker, it made sense that they could see where she could not. Instead of fumbling around in the dark, she stopped and listened, holding her breath and preparing for the next round of gunfire.

---

A louder bang sounded from a nearby rooftop, and Pipeline turned to watch a large, flaming parahuman sailing towards him. He didn’t quite start grinning, although it came pretty close. “So, you’re on fire?” he screamed, “and made of metal?” The hooded figure couldn’t suppress a cackle. “Hey, you don’t rust, do you?”

While traditional acid whips were an appealing choice against a seemingly metal monster, he did have an audience, and fancied something a little more… explosive. Coating one arm in water, and surrounding the second with cesium metal. He looked his opponent dead in the eye, before firing both makeshift missiles at once.

His target was not the parahuman themselves, but rather the air slightly ahead of her. As the water and cesium slammed into one another, their was a single, brief moment of stillness.

Before the reaction began.

A deafening boom caused shockwaves enough to shatter the windows of the cars and buildings directly around the blast. A cloud of white smoke, tinged with a multitude of pretty pinks and light blues - the remains of the cesium, still reacting to the water vapour in the air - which rained down upon the battlefield.

Having gained the attention of everyone present, Pipeline raised his arms to the sky. “Who’s next?” he yelled, laughing like a lunatic.

@knifeman@Kiddo

---

“Ummm… Sickle?” A small voice warily called out from across the room. “I have some information you probably wanna know.”

Leaning over the arm of the couch from his lying position, the young man nonchalantly waved his hand. “I’m listening.”

The girl’s fingers continued to rapidly smack the keyboard, while she sifted through the rest of the report she’d just acquired, as if to confirm it. “According to the Protectorate logs, Praetor just sanctioned a group of Wards to go secure that punch-up in Dorchester, led by a token hero.” Switching to another tab, her eyes scanned the important bits of a second document - a recording picked up from a hacked phone. “Only it looks like Pipeline is headed that was as well.”

Jumping off the sofa, Sickle-Cell covered the short distance in seconds. Looking over the intel on the screen, there could be no doubt. She looked exactly right. Unless Pipeline got distracted, chances are Praetor had just sent the Wards into a meat grinder. Most villains in the city wouldn’t dream of stooping that low, but Pipeline was a law unto himself.

From the corner of the room, the rest of the Covenant watched expectantly. “Well,” he finally said.

“Shit.”

Breaking into a light jog, he heading towards their little equipment room. “Get ready. We need to be out of here in minutes.” Sickle turned back to the girl. “Oh,” he called across the room, “and get Donovan. We need a driver.”

---

Kairi’s face was a picture of grief, as she desperately tried to decide what to say. Thankfully, she got a few moments of reprieve.

“A little while ago,” Gestalt began, “ I wouldn’t have been comfortable talking about it. The therapists here in Boston, though, are so much nicer than the ones in the other places I’ve been.” Clearing her throat slightly, she bowed her head. “Sorry if it’s a bit of a dry story, but i’ll try to keep it brief.”

“My mother and father had been fighting since before I was born. Naturally, their marriage didn’t last long after she gave birth to me, and they went their separate ways. I know some couples can go on to live perfectly happy lives like that, wishing each other well and sharing responsibility for the kid, but not those two.”

“It was a constant battle. One would tell me something nasty about the other, which the other would then deny and respond to. They didn’t see me as a child, so much as they did a weapon to hurt one another.” Her eyes went wide, as she realised what she’d just said. “That isn’t to say they didn’t love me! They did want the best for me, but I was a convenient tool, in that aspect.”

“Eventually, I got tired of being two completely separate people. Never getting to be who I really wanted to be. So I packed my stuff, and when Mom sent me off to stay with Dad, I used the train fare to run off by myself, instead. Took a train all the way out to Texas from Washington, despite supposed to be going to New York. Sitting at my destination, I realised I didn’t have enough money to get home. For better or worse, I could be my own person, but I didn’t know what that meant. The overwhelming wave of anxiety crippled me, and before i knew it, I’d passed out and woke up with powers.”

“The real irony?” Nola said with a light chuckle, “I can be whoever I want to be, now.”

Kairi sat, realising her friend had just inadvertently sold her down the river. Stay silent would look really horrible, now. Swallowing, she looked incredibly ill. “I… don’t like to talk about my trigger. It’s personal, I’m sorry.” She stammered over her words. “Let’s just say I triggered trying to stop my brother doing something I thought he’d regret.”

Her tone trailed off, almost as though she was speaking to herself - but aloud. “Although I’m pretty sure he hates me for it, now.”

Seeing how the lively atmosphere died off, Gestalt chimed back in. “What about you? Anything more awesome that realising you suck, like me?”

@Banana@PlatinumSkink

Well, she didn't take him out of the fight, which wasn't great - although Robin couldn't help feeling pleased that she'd gotten a good hit in. But the best thing was the tough-talking, which managed to coax a lazy smile from the girl. "What can I say? I aim to p--" She cut herself off, reacting just a little too late as he launched his next volley. Maybe she'd gotten a little too caught up in the verbal sparring, as she barely got her vital parts out of the way - and even that only with an unnatural-looking twist around on one leg that made her thankful for the mobility upgrades.

Nonetheless, a hiss of pain escaped her as concrete tore across her left side. It took seconds to assess the damage to the mechanical parts, a task she didn't need to put much effort into doing. Forearm plate cracked open, a couple of fingers broken, a small shard embedded deep in her hand - there went her punching capabilities, and gripping too until she got a chance to pull it out. The damage was obvious at a glance, sparking circuitry intertwined with muscle now visible where the armour had broken.

"Y'know, it's rude to interrupt." Glancing down at the blood seeping across the plating, she didn't seem too bothered by the painful-looking injuries. If anything, she was downright dismissive of it. "And mind the paint-job, buddy, it's worth more than you are."

All the distraction was a nice way of ignoring the fact that it seriously hurt. Refocus. He was a ranged attacker, so she had to close in quickly, make sure he couldn't keep his distance. Sprinting forward, she launched herself at him.

Rather than another slice that'd give him a chance to get away, it seemed she just planned to straight-up tackle the guy and pin him down - and if needed, give out a few more hits to match the one that had bloodied his nose. After all, she was a whole lot stronger than your average human. Figured that all she needed to do was get a proper grip with her good hand.

So, so many options... All of them shitty. They could go to the consortium, a place that makes money off of selling secrets, and if they found out that Tony was connected to Wonderland... it probably wouldn't end well. The same could be said for the PRT - while they may find him, he did not want to challenge arguably the strongest forces in the nation into finding who offered them an invite - hell, Tony might even get blamed if they get raided in the middle of a fight! That leaves option the former... The guys that have been all across the news for awhile now, and have challenged every faction in Boston to war... The Covenant.

"Why in hell are we even delivering invites to the PRT? It's like we're begging to be arrested."

"There are more than a few crooked heroes, man. PRT probably have their hands full with the Covenants recent activity, so they probably don't have the time to send people to raid us. Lucky, right?"

Tony rolled his eyes, before plucking the white envelope from Robby's hand.

"I don't want to be anywhere near the assholes that literally declared war on us, and the Consortium is great at holding blackmail - at least this way, I won't have to sell my kidney for hush money or wind up dead in an alley..."

"That's the spirit!"

Tony sighed slightly, dreading what was going to come up. If he was lucky, they would find a corrupt hero quick - like Robby said, they weren't exactly rare. But on the off chance they met someone that recognized either of them, or they couldn't find someone to hand the letter off to... well, they were kind of boned.

"C'mon - place is in Mission Hill. I'll lead the way."

---

Tony wasn't exactly foreign to the PRT - they always had some force around, making sure that the gangs in the city were keeping to some degree of order. But the anxiety that crept up his spine as he walked towards he massive monolith that floated over Boston Harbor. The safest place in the city, and arguably one of the most well protected places in the country, this pyramid floated over the harbor with ease... The perfect defensive position. Several police officers and PRT enforcers patrolled the surrounding ground, making sure that suspicious activity was kept to a minimum. The number of tourists and guards, however, was far lower than usual, and it was almost chilling to see the lack of people.

"What's your ingenious way of getting the letter to someone? We can't really walk in and hand it to somebody we recognize, can we?"

"...I was hoping they'd have a mailbox or something."

Tony held back the urge to strangle his companion, and quickly thought over the situation - there was no way in hell they'd be able to get inside, especially with heightened security concerns thanks to the Covenant...

A flash of inspiration struck Tony, and he quickly began to walk towards one of the people in a PRT uniform, motioning for Robby to stay while he did so. Tony gave the man a curt wave, and began to speak before the man interrupted him.

"I'm glad to find someone like you! I am an officer from the New York branch - I was told about a particularly... aggressive hero in your jurisdiction. I have written a very important message for them, and I was hoping someone would be able to deliver it for me."

"O-of course sir! Do you mind telling me who you particularly have in mind?"

Tony narrowed his eyes.

"I was told that they were a problem - is this problem so menial that not everyone knows about it?"

"No sir! I promise that they'll get it by the end of the day!"

"Good - I'm glad I could find someone so reliable! I'll be sure to put in a good word in about you with Director Armstrong."

Tony turned on his heels, the guard saying "Thank you, sir!" as he did so. The white envelope was clutched gently in his hand, and Troy walked to a somewhat disturbed Robby.

"You sure that'll work? Guy will probably just tear it up. And who the hell were you talking about when you said 'Particularly aggressive'?"

"It'll work - trust me. Next up is Consortium - this will hopefully be pretty easy."

Tony walked forwards, speaking after a few seconds of silence as if he just heard Robby.

"Oh, I have no clue what hero he'll give it to. All I know is that Pipeline wants a bloodshow, and if we're lucky, that guard knows someone particularly dangerous. Hell, maybe he'll even give it to that one kid - Septima, or something. That'd be pretty interesting for the psychos that show up to these Circuses."

The pair walked forwards, making their way towards the Alverton Building.

@hagroden@Sickle-cell@ProPro

---

Once more Katya was glad that the mask she wore hid all of her facial features and that she didn't have waste any energy trying to hide her surprise at the voice she suddenly heard speaking to her.

She wasn't sure where the voice was coming from, but whatever it was, it was clearly auditory in nature...it didn't feel like telepathy...and she didn't feel anyone probing her mind. Having your mind read was a most unwelcome and uncomfortable feeling and one she had little interest in experiencing again..

The thought sent an involuntary shiver down her neck and for a moment she remembered an unfortunate encounter with a cape working under the directions of the FSB. He was dead she knew, she had made sure of that, but that was hardly enough, and it was really a pity that she could only kill him once.

It was in that moment that Katya decided that she had quite enough with all of the surprise introductions. Taking a deep breath, she reminded herself that she was on a job, and that the bosses back home wouldn't be too happy about a burned down skyscraper, especially not if it belonged to the Consortium. However, the thought of rebellion did bring a small smile back to her lips though...

Feeling very much like an idiot, Katya spoke in a normal voice, uncertain of how or if the new cape could hear her, "Nice trick, Аноним, give us a moment to confirm that with Mr. Maxwell."

… Hah. Asking about the worst day of our lives, are you, huh, Anomaly? Knight gazed out over the city as she thought back to her own triggering… … … … … Well. She had a story.

Gestalt started. Knight paid attention. … Oh. Well, that sounded dreadful. She wasn’t sure if it was in her place to ask, but…

‘Did it work out after that?’ She asked Gestalt, silently, sitting in place on the side.

She simply nodded at Septima’s unwillingness to share her own trigger. She knew other examples of terrible triggers that one might prefer to keep to oneself.

‘Myself…’ She took a deep breath for a moment. ‘I was mourning my dad. I was home alone, and didn’t know what to do with my life, felt vulnerable and scared without him. That’s when a couple criminals started breaking into my home. Without means to protect myself from them, without my dad when I felt the most vulnerable, I panicked. Perhaps more than I would have if I hadn’t been in the midst of mourning and loneliness. I triggered.’ She held a hand forward, and she formed her own dull blue broadsword by pausing the time in that shape, gripping it and holding it steadily.

‘… I got my means to protect myself, and with that, my future was decided.’ She smirked a little, then let the sword fade away, back to air. ‘All in all, I was fortunate and got away without much harm. No particular therapy required.’ Obviously. Now, there was the explanation that second-generation capes triggered more easily, but she never made it clear if she was one or not. Sure, she was the child of Retribution, but were they related, power-wise? … Unclear, she had said to anyone who asked.

@Sickle-cell@Banana

“He is correct, I’m afraid to say,” a voice drifted from across the room as soon as the elevator doors chimed open. “The voice in your head is under your protection as of now.”

Gesturing for the two parahumans to take a seat, Maxwell remained standing with his commanding view of the city. “The Covenant have been bad for business lately, and we are finally taking steps to locate and silence the group. As such, escorting a tinker who can detect sound is the best idea we have that combines both effectiveness and subterfuge.”

Taking a swig from the glass in his hand, he gave the two an almost apologetic look. “It was not my idea. I am not entirely clear on how my superior intends for you to babysit someone who will not allow you near him, but I am paying you enough to figure that out yourselves.”

“We believe that they will move to stop the chaos in Dorchester, so finding them as they enter or leave Allston should be your priority. If you locate them, contact me and await further instruction.” Taking a pair of brown paper packets from a drawer on his desk, he placed one down in front of each guest. “Dossiers on the Covenant - incase you are tasked to engage, or something goes wrong. There is also a burner phone in each envelope which has a direct line to my office.”

“Any questions?”

@ProPro@FancyHats@hagroden

---

“Who was I taking this to, again?” A lone PRT grunt thought, as he snaked the halls of Mission Hill to the Director’s office. Knocking on the door, he entered the room. “Miss Underwood, I have a letter here from an officer of a foreign branch, regarding a aggressive hero here?”

“No, Mr Mason. What you have is a potentially contaminated letter from a Wonderland agent,” came the agitated voice of the Boston PRT Director. “I thought our Stranger protocols were adequate here, but it would seem I have some serious safety concerns to address. Give it to me.”

As he handed the letter over, suddenly feeling rather stupid and twitchy, Underwood carefully opened the letter, and read it. Her eyebrows raised slightly. “Oh,” she said with a vulpine smile. “Well done, Mr Mason. I will reconsider terminating your employment. Now leave. I have a call to make.”

Picking up the phone, she hit number 1 on speed dial. It didn’t even ring twice before the line connected.

“Praetor. I have an invitation here.”

@Duoya

---

As the cybernetic tinker launched herself, Askaryan braced for the impact.

Rising slightly, the cape slammed him onto the front seat of the car he’d been leaning against. Bouncing - and not having quite come to a complete stop - he chuckled at her through a gasp of pain. “You know, usually I use the back seat.”

Placing a hands on separate pieces of her clothing, he used his power. They pulsed with faint energy, before continuing forward with the same momentum they had. Kicking back slightly, he did a mirror on himself, causing his power to pull the two apart and carry them off in opposite directions at a meandering pace.

Cutting out the power on his own costume, he fell two feet to the ground, landing on his dodgy leg with a grunt. Taking out a number of ball-bearings from his pocket, he grinned. “Come on. Sure you don’t want a job?” he called out, launching another round of unstoppable projectiles.

Twisting round, he grabbed a crude, metal pipe from the body of an injured and fallen Wonderland goon. Despite the odds, he hobbled towards his opponent.

@Lasrever

---

“Kinda,” Gestalt said with a shrug. “They’ll never get back together, but they fight a bit less. If only to tell me how ‘what I am doing is dangerous and I should stop before I get myself hurt’.” She sighed. “Typical parent stuff, now, I guess.”

Kairi nodded at Knight’s description of her trigger. “Yea. Stuff like that is the worst. It’s why I wanted to become a hero in the first place.” She peered out the VTOL window at the approaching smoke. “To clean up the city.”

Looking over at Anomaly, Nola chuckled. “Guess that just leaves one.” She winked. “Care to share, or was this just a test that we probably shouldn’t share important information that easily?”

@Banana@PlatinumSkink

Anomaly

---

"... I guess dads are a trend, huh? I can relate." Xoxi took a deep breath, exhaling with a gentle sigh as she began to tell the other girls in the VTOL her story. It would've been rude not to tell it, after all. "Here goes..."

"My dad was the main parental figure in my life, after my mom left him for some rich guy. We lived in poverty in a small apartment a town over. Life was tough, but I managed to get through it without making my dad super mad at me. I knew he was taking it harder than I ever could've. If it means anything, the best gift I ever got was a Gamecube with three games when I was 10 years old, and it was a hand-me-down from a thrift store. Still, my dad's smile was the best thing I ever saw when I told him it was great."

"About a year ago, give or take, my mom came into my life again. She told me that she wanted to see what kind of a woman I had become, and she was prepared to offer my dad a large sum of money for me to spend a week with her. My dad took it and sent me off, expecting me to return within a week. I put my stuff down in my mom's husband's estate, only to have a washcloth shoved under my nose."

"I woke up in a hospital a few days later without my arms. I had a very experimental drug injected into both of my arms, causing them to rot off of my body. The doctors left me alone to cope with my loss, when... well... my hands formed." A ghost hand formed beside Xoxi, waving to the rest of the girls in the ship. "I spent a month in the hospital, and when I returned home to my dad, who payed off the entire bill with the money my mom gave him before her incarceration, he saw the news. A drug-bust by the Wards at the time. He sent me here to the Protectorate in order to sign me up for the Wards. I was allowed to join them, and here I am."

"If it means anything, though, that three day coma had a wicked dream." Xoxi chuckled, hiding her very subtle sadness with humor.

@PlatinumSkink@Sickle-cell

---

Mathias's face seemed to lighten softly behind his mazk as a disembodied voice echoed within the elevator. "I can shed some light on that, Introductions are in order. I am Anonymous, information broker, part time contractor for the Consortium. Mr. Maxwell's superior requires that you escort me to Allston. Though I should advise you now, you will not see me. I never meet anyone face to face. No fret though. So long as you do your job, I will be there to do mine."

"Good morning Inconnu, a pleasure to be working with you again." Mathias said in a quiet, professional tone. He'd escorted the cape previously, and they had worked well in collaboration. As they were both informants Mathias held sincere respect for Anon, however knowing that he was an informant for hire, rather than one working exclusively for the Consortium, Mathias also knew well enough to hold his tongue regarding personal information.

As the elevator doors slid open, Mathias bowed his head politely to his employer, Hugo Maxwell, before walking to the familiar mini-bar Maxwell kept in his office. Filling a shaker with cracked ice, Mathias poured a bottle labeled "Noilly Prat" in to the shaker and stirred it for a few moments, before straining the dry vermouth into the sink. He then produced a bottle of clear liquor that read "Beefeater" and poured about 12 ounces into the shaker. After stirring it for a few moments, Mathias retrieved three chilled martini glasses from the mini-bar's refrigerator and poured the drinks out perfectly, each one meticulously leveled with the others. Finally, Mathias removed a small box from his jacket pocket and opened it, revealing an assortment of icy garnishes. In each glass he placed a single olive, as well as a beautifully cut lemon twist, before placing two of the three drinks on Maxwell's Desk, one in front of Taser, and one in front of his own seat.

With the third drink in hand, Mathias approached Maxwell and politely took the Glass from his hand, exchanging it with Mathias's own Martini. "You should know better than to have a drink of your own creation in my presence Maxwell." He said softly, though in a polite voice.

Mathias then removed his Mask, as a show of good faith to Tracer, and set it on the desk before picking up his Martini and taking a sip. Mathias's snow white hair fell over his face as he took his seat, covering his right eye. If tracer paid close enough attention, she might have seen the strange design of Mathias's irises. Taking another slow sip from his Martini, Mathias watched Maxwell, listening closely.

After Maxwell had finished speaking, Mathias spoke gently, offering a small correction; "Escorting sir, Escorting... Any areas of particular interest, or should we simply patrol until our mutual friend uncovers something of interest?" He asked curtly,

---

Alice sat on the roof of the building, enjoying the soft sunlight falling upon her face. She'd changed appearance with her mood, honey blond hair and soft blue eyes.

Closing her eyes, she laid back, spreading her arms wide.

Such a beautiful day. Quiet, except for the ever so faint sounds of the Boston.

With a wry smile, Alice took hold of one of the viruses she'd released a cure for: the common cold. Great at adapting, many different strands already existing, and she'd broke it down to it's core. A few bacteria modified by her were able to combat the virus into Oblivion, much better than simple white blood cells.

But she didn't want any bacteria or virus to be gone for good.

Humming along to a song she'd heard on the way over, Alice began manipulating the basic virus that was the common cold at its core.

She imagined this was what a painter or a sculpture felt like. Shaping something simple into something unique, complex, different.

Opening her eyes, Alice smiled. By the end of the morning she'd be done with this virus. A masterpiece, as all her work was.

Standing, Alice went back inside, swinging over the edge of the roof into the open window of the Administration Office.

Her office.

As she sat in the fancy chair, placing her feet on the mahogany desk, her hair turned black and her eyes hazel.

Now it was time to wait for a response to her letters.

“Well,” Gestalt said with a reassuring smile, “you don’t really get powers without being damaged goods.”

A voice cut in over the radio, from the cockpit. “Speaking of, we’re just about there. Get ready.”

Meanwhile, on the ground, Pipeline had just finished his little display when he noticed the incoming Protectorate VTOL. His eyes narrowed. “You just don’t listen, do ya? I told you I’d deal with them myself!” he roared out to the heavens, before throwing a glob of acid directly at the VTOL’s left motor.

It ate through the hardened steel as though it were paper, and the vehicle suddenly tilted and began losing altitude.

“What the-” cried the pilot. “Oh, shit. Brace for impact!”

The sudden lurch to the side threw Septima across the passenger compartment, as she scowled and considered how bad today had been.

And it wasn’t even lunchtime.

@Banana@PlatinumSkink

---

Maxwell accepted the drink, praying it was stronger than the one he had poured himself.

At this rate, he was going to need it.

“I’m afraid our current intel on this group is basically non-existent. As such, wandering around is about all I can ask you to do. The chaos between Gladius and Wonderland may be enough to draw them out, given how much of a problem they seem to have with the gangland way of thinking in this city, but I can’t be sure.”

“If I were you, I’d begin there. If nothing else, I expect them to be watching.”

@ProPro@FancyHats@hagroden

---

A rather interesting letter landed on the desk of the PRT Director in Boston, which marked the second in a day. Given how unusual an occurrence this actually was, she wasted no time in thumbing the envelope open and taking a look inside.

Glancing over the written text with her eyebrows raising a little more with each passing line, she reached the end and gently laid the letter back onto her desk.

She sighed, long, drawn-out and utterly fed up. “I need a vacation,” she said to the empty room.

---

After reading a letter from one of the newer resident crazy people in the city, Whetstone wondered just what she had planned.

And just what she wanted.

From the sound of things, the author was capable of controlling diseases and bacteria. That could come in extremely handy. Taking out a pen and turning the page over, she began to scribble.

Toxic,

I believe the two of us could enter into a rather mutually beneficial arrangement. If you are interested, leave the details with the foot soldier attached to this letter.

Yours,
Whetstone.

Now then, Sickle, she thought, let’s see you handle a new kind of biological warfare.

@Old Amsterdam