She nodded to Gestalt’s continued part of the story. Same to Septima’s reaction to her own story. Yeah. Reason enough.

She shuddered to Anomaly’s story. That was horrible. She lost her arms for her powers. That… that was terrible. Don’t get powers without becoming damaged goods, huh. She wanted to argue, but it was apparently time to act. Knight looked out and-

‘Wa-!’ She made a noise as the vehicle lurched and tilted, apparently from the lack of engine on one side. Falling down onto the other side, Knight grunted, but there was something she could do about this.

Inside the craft, a block of frozen air appeared, following their fall because it was automatically created with the same speed as herself. She shaped it after the ceiling of the craft, before she quickly started pushing it at the ceiling of the craft, intent on slowing down the descent of the out-of-control craft with her own power and attempt balance it…

‘Grh…!’ Slowing down her frozen air to slow down the whole craft put considerable pressure on her mind, especially since she was trying to take the weight of a whole craft coming crashing down. However, with the assumption that the pilots still had some form of control, she tried to steady the crash so they came down with the right keel down and not with too fierce an impact so they wouldn’t be in any danger of dying from the crash.

With the assumption that she was about to succeed…

‘Gestalt! Make cover for us outside!’ With the assumption that outside was a warzone, cover would be nice. ‘We’re not damaged goods, we’re young heroes rising towards our full potential! So let’s teach these villains not to mess with us! Let’s go!’ Not the best of speeches, but spare her, she had extremely limited time to come up with something. With that, Knight wanted to shove the door open and jump out to see what might be awaiting them out there.

@Sickle-cell@Banana

Anomaly

---

Anomaly was going to respond to what Gestalt had said, when suddenly she was lurched forward by a sudden loss of something. Thank god she was wearing her seatbelt, or this wouldn't have been good. A lack of arms makes it hard for a person to really... put on a parachute. In fact, it made it damn near impossible.

"OH SHOOT!" Anomaly took a second to look outside the window, and wouldn't you know it, there was an engine missing. There's your problem. The amputee looked up to what Knight was doing when she noticed that she was trying to slow the fall as best as she could, which honestly was a fantastic idea that the teen would assist with, but she couldn't because her powers didn't really do that. They could support her and slow her fall, but it wasn't really helpful for things like this.

‘We’re not damaged goods, we’re young heroes rising towards our full potential! So let’s teach these villains not to mess with us! Let’s go!’ Knight shouted as she tried to keep the VTOL from crashing, and Anomaly chimed in with her say on the matter. "What Knight said! Time to knock some heads together!"

Anomaly was ready. She just had to survive the fall, first.

Mandy noticed the approaching aircraft and pointed it out to her sister.

“Hol, that’s the Protectorate!” Both breathed a sigh of relief, but their hopes fell when the newcomer to the fight lobbed… something at the craft that sent it careening off-kilter. This was bad. The people that had come to stop the chaos were in danger. They were professional capes, though. They could handle it, right?

Holly, high on adrenaline, didn’t consider sitting and waiting for help. Acting on instinct, she projected the car door at the man who took down the ship.

Only after the projectile left her area of control did she realize, I just got rid of my one form of protection and engaged someone that’s clearly out of my league.

Mandy seemed to realize the same thing, giving Holly a look that said, what the fuck did you just do, you idiot?

Well, if I’m going to die, I might as well make it big.

Holly steeled herself and prepared or the consequences.

...Dude, seriously?

Well, at least he had a sense of humour about this whole thing. Robin could appreciate someone willing to trade barbed words in the middle of a fight, although it didn't stop it from getting kind of annoying. "If you put half as much effort into hitting me as you do hitting on me, you might stand a chance." For the former, at least - the chances of success for the latter option were less than zero.

She wasn't floating particularly quickly, to be fair, which made it easy enough to figure out why she was moving. Seeing him prepare to launch another volley, she - with a look in her eyes that said she did not appreciate having to do it - cut away the power-affected fabric and fell to the floor in the nick of time, watching the projectiles fly over her head.

More explosions--

Was that a Protectorate aircraft? No time to analyse, but Pipeline's arrival had been bad enough. If there was a chance of arrest coming into the picture too, well, it was about time to jump ship. Gladius didn't pay her enough to get arrested, exploded, or dissolved in acid. She'd made a little bit of an impact, but this was out of her league; if there was a problem with that, she'd deal with it later.

Besides, loyalty went both ways; and she wasn't feeling much support from her so-called allies right about now. And hey, if they didn't want to support her properly, she was under no obligation to do anything similar for them. This encounter had revealed enough about her weaknesses for her to plan some new developments, and she'd given fixing the situation a try, but... well, no-one had told her to do any more than provide some help. Which she'd done.

New priority, get the hell out. Easier said than done with one functioning hand.

Lunging forward again, she kicked away the makeshift crutch, placing a half-extended blade to Askaryan's throat. "One, you owe me a new outfit. Two, what say you give up the fight so I can tell Gladius I contributed, help me get the hell out before we both get arrested or your boss blows me to bits," she nodded her head towards the chaotic battlefield, "and maybe I'll think about taking a job or two sometime." The way she saw it, it was an offer he couldn't refuse.

Partly because he wouldn't be going anywhere fast without her help, but mostly because she had two very very sharp blades that, while she wasn't willing to murder someone in cold blood, were more than capable of slicing him into ribbons either way. It wasn't a chance many people would want to take.

It had been relatively straightforward to infiltrate the wonderland gang, infact Seth was pretty sure even without Spite the drugged up goons would have had a hard time realizing he wasn’t one of them, but with how psycho they and their bosses where, he wasn’t going to try and test that theory. He’d spent the next few days listening in on conversations and mooching off of his unsuspecting hosts while he waited around hoping to catch wind of them actually doing something, anything, that would draw the attention of the town’s heros.

This was his modus operandi, stick with the local problem till they made noise, be a massive pain for the local heros for a bit, then move on before they started trying to counteract Spite’s stranger ability. In his early days Seth had joined those groups instead, but with membership came rules, orders and commitments that Seth couldn't stand. He had a fair few enemies down south made up of gangs he had bailed out on, often at the most inopportune time. Being an unnoticeable face in their ranks was so much better for what he wanted, the element of surprise causing the maximum amount of chaos for everyone involved, which made it easy for his friends to work their magic and for Seth to then slip away unseen.

It also meant that in situations like the gunfight he found himself in after following the wonderland gangers to their drug deal he wouldn’t be noticed as a target by either side and so all he had to do was plop himself in an alleyway near where some of his hosts were taking cover and await the coming of the Heros.

---

”Rise and shine Seth, the guest of honor are arriving at last”

”Do ya, do ya think it’ll be her?”

”Does it really matter”

”I wanna see ‘er face when I show ‘er who’s the better archer!”

”Just, don’t cause any tactical blunders for the sake of your jealousy. Please.”

”Screw you Scratch, how can I be envious of someone worse than me!”

”Alright, alright, I’m up already. Quit it.”

The young man, awoken by his friends voices bickering in his head, stood up from where he had been sitting in an alleyway near the ongoing intergang firefight, yawned, stretched, and then listened carefully to the sound of VTOL engines rapidly approaching. Beneath his mask and hood of his ragged cloak, the anarchist grinned malicious grin. The he stepping up behind the gang member who was using the ally corner for cover from the cape fight and peeking over his shoulder at the brawl going on out there.

”There has to be a big response coming to this mess, right?”

”Here is said response. Just one craft. I have no doubt we’ll be fine”

”Hehe, time to give em a shitty laning”

Seth watched as the aircraft came into view as Spite waited for just the right moment to strike. Pipeline robbed him of the opportunity however, melting through engine of the craft and sending it spiraling to the ground.

”You bastard! I was gonna do that!”

”Don’t do it Spite”

”No you buffoon!”

But it was too late, the 4 masked devil had fully manifested, its arms, holding it’s bow and an huge arrow popped out from the cloak, upon the inside of which hundreds of malevolent red eyes all opened at once, fixated upon the wonderland gang leader, while the hood pulled back off of seth’s face, changing into its 4 eyed head. All at once Seth’s cover was blown, startling the gang member he was behind as Spite quickly leveled his bow in Pipeline’s direction and sent the massive iron spike hurtling towards him.

---

"Ma'am? I have a visitor at the front desk asking for you," a voice came over the intercom. Alice's eyes opened. "Roger dodger, Micaela. I'll be down in a jiff.!" she replied with a press of a button.

A few moments later she swung open the double doors from the front office. Taking the letter with flourish. Reading it quickly, she nodded to herself.

"Yes, yes. I think I can start there. You!" she said suddenly, looking at the messenger. "You tell your boss to meet me in that little cafe called Thinking Cup. It's by the Museum, I think. Actually, here, let me write that down."

Snatching a paper and pen from the front desk, she started writing quickly.

Whetstone,
Firstly, I must applaud you on the respectful letter.

So, down to business! Meet me at the Thinker Cup Cafe. It's near the Museum, I think. Anyways, I'll be there in an hour, so about noon. I do hope to see you there, or I might be displeased at the rudeness of being stood up. Whichever.

I'm very interested to hear what you have in mind.

Yours joyously,
Toxic Taint

Alice handed the man the letter, giving his ass a slap. "Ooohrah, go go go soldier!" she said with a laugh.

Mary had not expected her target to have such good reflexes. Or was it precognition? Hard to tell: airsoft guns were quiet, but the cape had reacted so quickly it was obvious that she’d known what was coming. Mary stopped firing when it became obvious that she was the new target here, repositioning away from the edge of the roof and reloading as the biker was acrobatically scaling the battlefield to get to her.

Sidestep couldn’t see Mary when she made it to the top, and was holding her breath. It meant she could only tell that a canister of gas was exhaling its contents by the hissing sound it made. In reality, the dry-tasting contents were enveloping her in a cloud of Dragon’s specialty, and one misstep, one tiny release of energy would set her up in conflagration. Her weapons were injured, and she was vulnerable to Mary’s own, so the girl took the chance to lower her guard a little bit.

“Don’t attack. You’ll kill yourself.” Her voice was muffled by her gasmask, but not so much that Sidestep surely wouldn’t be able to tell where she was. “Which group are you fighting for?” Sidestep still couldn’t see Mary, but she’d be able to tell that she was young, and it sounded like she just wanted to talk.

Dragon was more actively busy. “Fire guy,” turned out to be a bit more than she had bargained for. She recognized that the chemical reaction she witnessed was just that: a chemical reaction, not an exploding fireball. So he had more than just fire powers.

Then again, that still didn’t mean he could defeat her. The explosion wasn’t anything she wasn’t built for: her whole body was designed to handle concussive and heat damage like that. She rode the shockwave, letting it slow her and knock her closer to the ground. She’d been hoping to catch him unaware with her silent death-from-above maneuver, but obviously that had not worked.

Instead, she waited a moment, so that it would look like his explosion worked. And it worked: he crowed and changed targets, lobbing yet another different attack at one of the helicopters above. Perhaps they should have scared those away, but there was little time to think of that: now was the time to strike.

Strike she did. A fiery pillar erupted in a cone behind her, propelling the construct forward at a terrifying speed. The move didn’t even give Pipeline time to register, much less react, in his distracted state, and she slammed all of that force into his spinal cord at the neck. Her metal claws, held out pointy-ends-first, impacted him with enough force to pop and elephant’s head clear off, and she didn’t stop there, trying to drive him forward to slam through the building on the other side. She would have managed it, too, had a car door not suddenly slammed into the two of them, knocking out some of her speed and causing them to slam into the building less gracefully and powerfully than she’d hoped. Still, overkill wasn’t strictly necessary. She figured she had surely killed her target, and used her other claw to pry him off of her occupied one. Next.

Whoever had thrown that door. No one threw doors at her, it was just one of the rules. One she’d only just now made up, because that was the first door flung her way, but still. Rules were rules, or at least her own rules were. Screw everyone else’s rules. She turned her attention that way, flying through the bulletstorm between them, mechanical eyes locked on Holly.

The pair slowly dragged themselves along, moving painfully slowly through the city of Boston. The Alverton Building was a distance away, and Tony was slowly growing anxious. These guys were a lot more terrifying then the PRT - the PRT at least had guidelines, rules they couldn't break. They had to follow the law. Tony knew handing the letter off would be easy - just give it to the secretary and say it's an 'important message.' Still, the place had to be heavily monitored, and the last thing Tony wanted was for his identity to be revealed... Just imagining having to return to his old life in the Wonderland was terrifying. Those people were batshit....

"Thanks."

"Hm?"

"You didn't have to come here, or agree to show up for the circus... If I were in your situation, I'd want to leave the wonderland to. I'm just saying thanks for doing it for somebody like me."

Tony sighed gently as they just arrived at the Alverton building. Whether those feelings were genuine or just trying to guilt him before he chickened out Tony would never know - but it was too late to back out.

---

The automatic doors gently opened, revealing a very beautiful lobby area. Tony walked forwards, heart thumping in his chest - he made sure to keep his head down and away from as many cameras as possible. After what felt like an eternity, Robby and Tony made it to the front desk, and the woman there politely addressed them.

"Hello sirs, do you have an appointment today?"

"Just a message - It's very important. Make sure that it ends up on Mr. Maxwell's desk by the end of the day."

Robby nudged Tony's side, bearing a creepy grin. Tony glared daggers at him until it fell, which was relatively quickly. He sure as hell wasn't goin to 'hand it to him personally' like Robby originally suggested. That was just plain stupid, and begging for Tony to get caught. Besides even with his power, getting to Maxwell would be difficult and have little to no payoff.

Tony quickly made his way out of the building, doing his best to hide his face. The last thing he wanted was to get caught on the way out. Finally, they made it out of the sliding doors, and Tony quickly made his way to a safe distance, before sighing in relief.

"We should have seen the guy face-to-face! Then we'd know he would get the message. That receptionist is probably going to just toss it into the junk pile."

"I wanted to stay in there as little time as possible - besides, do you think a guy like him as the free time to see a couple people right off the street? He wouldn't give us the time of day, even if we tried to talk to him."

"Well... You gotta admit, that one was pretty easy! Just get in and get out, no problem!"

"If you're trying to make me feel better about out next visit, it's not really working."

Tony slid his hand into his pocket - this was the hardest part of all. They'd be meeting up with the guy that declared war against every faction in Boston. If they were lucky, he'd be a crazy guy that would be happy to make a return appearance in the circus. If they weren't... They would probably die. At the very least, Robby said they would be meeting in a public place, so they probably wouldn't kill the pair outright...

"Ready to go?"

"Lead the way."

Tony followed the smaller man, praying that he would be able to just walk into the cafe, hand off his invitation, and leave as soon as humanely possible. If he wasn't dead or being hunted down by the end of the day, he'd be able to go to the circus at night... wonderful.

@Sickle-cell@hagroden@FancyHats

Things were turning out quite nicely. Collin had already intended to head toward the theorized location of the Covenant's headquarters. When your group extended beyond petty theft and general gang like activities into full blown murder and public bombings, well, that was against the rules. Everyone knew that once you went against the rules, the whole world was gonna dogpile your ass. Collin simply wanted to have a front row seat, and get paid to instigate said dogpiling. Thanks to his associations, he would not only accomplish that, but have two capes to direct as well. Splendid.

"As our dear master of strings is already aware of how I operate, this explanation is for Taser. My ability is quite potent and unique, but sadly nigh useless in a live combat scenario. As you can plainly see, I am nowhere in the room, yet we communicate without issue. This is because my ability revolves around sound. More specifically, I have a radius of, shall we say, considerable distance. Everything within this radius I hear without fail, no matter how minute. Mr. Maxwell, you will want to look into the ant colony building itself beneath your precious corporation. Left unchecked, they will wreak havoc on your foundation. Just as I hear everything, I can make myself heard as well. Therefore, the two of you shall act as the eyes, while I am the nigh omnipresent ears. I give directions and instructions with great purpose. If I tell you a threat is coming from a specific direction, you can trust that it is 100% accurate. For the most part I need no protection, since it is impossible to sneak up on me, but in the event of strangers or trumps that are capable of subverting my ability, I will be directing you near my location at all times. Do you have any queries?"

A man entered the room, dressed from head-to-toe in black leather, sporting a white mask with an eclipse motif. “Sorry to interrupt, Maxwell, but you’ve got a number of letters marked important. Figured you’d want to see them right away, so I brought them up from reception. “

Taking the two envelopes, Maxwell turned to his guests. “Apologies, this will take only a moment.” His eyebrow raised. “One of these is from Wonderland.”

“I know. Hence the urgency,” he man replied.

Nodding, Maxwell turned to sit at his desk. “Thank you, Nightlight. You may return to your duties.”

Giving a sharp nod, the man turned on his heel and left the room with all the efficiency of a trained killer.

Scanning the letters, the first was a standard invite to the next of Wonderland’s blood sport arenas. He smiled. They always made him so much money.

The second was of much more concern. It was posted from the CDC. From the… new owner of the CDC, by the sound of things. If she could control diseases, it would make her incredibly useful. And dangerous. And she was threatening him.

How cute.

Writing out an official response from the Consortium, he used a typical office ballpoint pen.

Dear ‘Toxic’,

I am unclear exactly what you think we can help you with. The Consortium is a business giant dealing primarily in industrial real estate and stock market trading. All this talk about demons, the void and goddesses is a little superstitious and mythical to be dealt with by us.

All of our employees already have a very generous health package, already, so we do not require whatever it is you purport to be selling.

A word of polite caution: Be careful with who you pick your battles.

Yours sincerely,

Hugo Maxwell
Consortium CEO

Making a mental note to pen a second, personal response to Boston’s newest crazy once his guests leave, he placed the letter in an unsealed envelope on his desk.

“My apologies again,” he said to Tracer and Fodem, “business matters are so dull.”

@Old Amsterdam

---

Staggering to her feet, Septima considered using her power on the craft to give them a better place to land.

Although whether they would get one if she did, or find themselves sinking into a lake of lava was roughly 50/50, so she decided against it.

“Don’t worry about cover!” she called out instead. “I can cobble something together. Just focus on landing this thing!”

Giving her a nod, Gestalt took a leaf out of Knight’s book, using the telekinetic component of her power to support her pushing against the craft’s roof. Dividing the weight between them considerably lessened the strain on both capes, and the VTOL began to level out. With the pilot desperately pulling up, he realised he was making the situation worse by trying to keep them in the air.

Switching tack, he instead put the craft into landing mode, beginning to hover closer to the ground. As they reached roughly ten feet above the surface, the other engine gave out under the strain of keeping upright. Suddenly the entire VTOL’s weight came crashing down upon the roof, held in place by the combined efforts of Gestalt and Knight. While the roof itself remained in place, the increased pressure caused the metal to groan and buckle, before splitting apart. The aircraft fell the last ten feet to the ground without any support, throwing the occupants around with the violent movement.

Breathing heavily, Gestalt clutched her head in one hand. “Ow. Ow. OWW,” she cried. “Damn, that hurt. Is everyone good?”

Waving a lazy hand from the floor - having collapsed there again - Septima responded. “As much as you can be, in this situation, I think.” Standing up, she wrapped a hand around the door and wrenched it open, revealing the gangland chaos beyond.

A few of the stupider gang members nearby the craft spun and fired off a few shots in their direction. Septima had expected it, though, and clicked her fingers as soon as the door had clunked open. A wavering orange-red portal opened between her and the outside world, and the bullets disappeared into it.

“Alright. I am not in the mood for this, you insufferable bloody idiots!” she screamed, and the portal sprung to life. Wavering a deeper colour and spinning into more of a vortex, several black, shadowy hands burst forth and began scrambling to grab her nearest attackers. As each took hold of their victim, they visibly slowed in movements, quickly becoming overwhelmed with dark appendages. When they were suitably ensnared, the hands retreated back through the portal - with their prey. All they could do was scream.

At least one of the Wonderland mooks realised what was going on. “Not fucking her!” he yelled, sprinting off down a nearby alley.

Turning to Knight, the girl gave her a tired smile. “Just tell me where you need me.”

@Banana@PlatinumSkink

---

Askaryan’s grin was reflected in the extended blades. “Your place, or mine?” He chuckled. “Deal. Although you don’t need to worry about Pipeline,” he said, nodding in his direction. “Looks like he has his hands full already.”

“But jail doesn’t sound fun, and the Birdcage even less,” his face turned serious for the first time today. “So I know a place nearby we can wait this out. A Wonderland safehouse. Help me get there, neither of us dies, is arrested, and i’m guessing you still get paid. Everyone wins.”

“Well, we win. Everyone else here can sort themselves out.”

@Lasrever

---

Sidestep could hear the voice, but the smoke was far too thick. She sounded young enough to give the parahuman pause. Even if she wanted to attack, right now, she was as good as blind.

“Independant. On Gladius’ payroll. Against my better judgement, but they pay well.” Thinking about what to say next, the sound of conflict below was growing that much more intense. “What about you? Sound far too young to be doing this line of work.”

@Kiddo

---

It had been some time since Pipeline had felt this sheer amount of pain.

Claws had pierced clean through him. It should have been a fatal wound, but he lucked out. Two convergent attacks from two separate parahumans - both almost certainly aimed at him - had conspired to keep him alive. The irony was bittersweet.

As he lay of the floor, gasping for breath and bleeding heavily.

A car door had knocked his attacker off balance. A large, metal lance had proceeded to further that effect, just enough. Although, the wound was life-threatening. Getting back to Wonderland would be the hard part. Surviving there would be as simple as finding Planck, but that wouldn’t help him if he bled to death here. The internal bleeding was bad, but that wouldn’t cause problems for about an hour.

It was the external bleeding that was the issue.

With reluctance, Pipeline sprayed pure alcohol onto the wound, front and back. It burned horrifically. At least, he thought it did.

Then he used his lighter to ignite it.

The liquid went up with a single fwoomp, searing the skin with intense heat. His wound buckled as flesh turned black or melted. It was nearly impossible to stop himself screaming, but he settled for a loud hiss through clenched teeth. Bearing it for just long enough to stop the bleeding, he then soaked a rag in his pocket and smothered out the flames, lying on the ground for several more seconds.

During that - everything went to hell.

@DracoLunaris

---

Two girls stood while a monster charged towards them.

Crushing anything in its way, and closing the distance rapidly, things didn’t look particularly good. While the action had been well-intended, it may very well be about to result in their sudden and violent death. Every threat capable of going toe-to-toe with the monstrosity had been incapacitated or was otherwise engaged.

From over Holly’s head, five spears flew out of the alley behind her. They were clearly aimed at the charging beast. As they clashed into her skin, the simply peeled off into the air without any effect, instead finding purchase in the ground or walls nearby. One unlucky Gladius goon had his leg impaled by the dark-red projectile.

However, the last one was different.

Instead of clattering off her skin, this one stuck fast. Rather than being a solid object, it was more like a viscous fluid - gloopy, despite retaining its basic form. The more the beast moved, the harder the spear stuck. However, the consistency wasn’t the only strange thing.

It was beeping.

A single, high-pitched whine split the air immediately around the spear as a small, metal cylinder burst out of the liquid. With a roar, it began sucking in all of the oxygen in the immediate area. Fires snuffed out in an instant. Goons nearby began to choke and splutter. Pieces of debris moved in the direction of the small device. The effect lasted for all of five seconds, but it was enough to take the wind out of the sails of those fighting.

The cylinder retreated back inside the liquid.

And then it exploded.

A violent whirlwind of ice lanced out in all direction from inside the spear itself. Given the proximity of the device to Dragon’s skin, ice bit deep into the metal, exploiting any imperfections in the armour and splitting them open. Pieces fractured off and went flying across the street in all directions, leaving a half-encased monster in the middle.

Some goons had assumed that the two girls were responsible for the raw carnage that had just unfolded and turned their guns in their direction. A shot rung out. Instead of hitting one of them, however, it crashed into a semi-circular shield of bright pink energy which materialised between the girl and the gun at the last second.

From the alley, a burst of light illuminated several figures. One’s hands, eyes and hair glowed that same pink colour, and she had one arm extended in the direction of the two girls. A rather scruffy man stood at her back, not wearing a mask. Leaning on his shoulder was a jester, swinging a cane round and round his finger. And walking past the three others was a man in a long, red jacket. In his hand was a spear, just like the other five that had been thrown.

Breaking it in two, each half melted into liquid before reforming into a sickle-like weapon. “Gubbins, Backdoor, run interference. Vegas, protect the girls.”

“What about you?” the girl asked.

He laughed in response. There was something dark in it, just below the surface.

“I’ve always wanted to hunt a Dragon.”

@Kiddo@knifeman

Holly had fucked up even more than she thought at first. Instead of hitting the intended target, the door she had thrown hit a huge metal-plated beast who seemed pissed as hell at the interruption. Her mind was completely blank as the creature propelled itself right towards her, any rational thoughts blocked out by a steady stream of swear words and “we’re gonna die.” The only action she could think to take was to shield Mandy with her body. It wouldn’t do any good, but at least she would have tried.

Both sisters were surprised when immediate, horrible death didn’t come. The monster was half-encased in ice and there was a translucent pink barrier shielding them from guns they hadn’t noticed had been turned their way. Realizing that they were safe, at least for now, Holly dropped to her knees, breathing heavily. Mandy crouched beside her, laying a hand on her shoulder.

“Holly, are you—“

She laughed a little, “I can’t believe we’re alive right now.”

“Me neither.”

Holly looked up at their saviors, not entirely sure of whether or not to trust them.

“Are you guys gonna try to kill us too?”

Anomaly

---

"Little dizzy, but alright!" Anomaly unbuckled her seat as she got close to a window of the VTOL, allowing her to see outside the VTOL at all of the thugs and gangbangers going around and causing mayhem and ruckus. Wasn't really great, to be honest, but she did notice someone running. Somebody afraid of what Septima could do, and that gave Anomaly an idea.

A ghost hand flew out from the side of the VTOL, soaring through the air before colliding with the back of the runaway thug, storing his emotion of fear within Anomaly's... yeah she didn't know what to call it yet. She always assumed it was a cloud, so she'd assume the same here. As she began to feel the very passive effects of that thug's fear, she looked over to the other people in her squad. "f you guys need someone debuffed, I'm ya girl!"

[+1 FEAR EMOTION]

"Winning sounds good to me. Guess that makes it your place." Robin grinned, blades withdrawn. A quick glance over her shoulder revealed... well, revealed that 'getting the hell out' was a strategy best followed sooner rather than later. If she wasn't wrong, and she doubted she was, the newest arrivals were some of those Covenant psychos. Seriously, hanging around here would be the definition of a death-wish.

As things stood, Askaryan's promise of safety seemed like a good offer, and one she was happy to accept; though it might have served her well to be a little more wary of wandering into a Wonderland safe-house. Sadly, the idea that they might not appreciate a cape with her record of scheme-ruining (both accidental and deliberate), not to mention who'd just been fighting on Gladius' side, didn't really occur to her. The past was the past, right?

Hopefully anyone they ran into would share her relaxed attitude.

Of course, there was the problem of getting the hell out to deal with. Considering that Askaryan was pretty much crippled, it'd be more of an issue than it could have been, but still simple to deal with. Grinning, Robin knelt down, wrapped her working arm around him and slung him over one shoulder in a fireman carry - her busted hand making the task difficult, but not impossible. Slightly rude of her not to ask permission, but if he had a problem he could bring it up when things weren't such a mess.

For now, she started running away from the battlefield. "I'll do the moving, so you just tell me which way to run." There was a pause as Robin thought over their previous exchanges - and the guy's current position - before she spoke again, her voice deadpan. "And try not to get too comfortable up there, would you?"

“What about you? Sound far too young to be doing this line of work.” Mary paused and gave it thought, considering her opponent. It wouldn’t be the first or last time she’d lie about this.

“Haha, I’m not really ‘in the line of work.’ I don’t even have powers! I’m just here with my babysitter.” She gestured toward Dragon, though of course they couldn’t see the gesture. “She’s got this whole ‘protect bystanders’ thing, but I guess I don’t count. So I’m up here doing what I can. With a bb gun. Against adult capes.”

Mary was in a difficult spot. They’d come here to, as she said, protect bystanders. But it didn’t seem like there really were any, and the situation was quickly getting completely out of hand. A VTOL had showed up and been shot down, which meant PRT was on the case now. And this was a Gladius-aligned independent, and they were definitely fighting Wonderlanders down there… They’d gotten into the fight too quickly, made too many assumptions as they did so, and drawn too much attention.

She had quietly made her way to the edge of the roof once more, using the location of Sidestep’s voice to make sure they didn’t accidentally run into each other in the darkness. From her new position, she could see out into the fray, could see the absolute mayhem below that didn’t look like it would deescalate any time soon. Most of the sounds of gunfire had died down as cape powers took center stage and as the out-of-hand nature of the skirmish became obvious to the non-powered combatants. She could see some limping away, apparently cutting their losses. And she could see Dragon, apparently severely damaged, being approached by someone.

--

Dragon had never had this much trouble in battle. It seemed every way she turned, projectiles peppered her. Car doors, giant arrows, bullets, and now sticky bomb-laden spears. Each took their effect on her armor and squishy interiors, though the last seemed best-capable of taking her down. The spikes of ice worked like shaped charges, lodging in and punching slightly through her armor, doing real damage the likes of which she had not experienced since dying… or was it being born? Her trigger, whatever one wanted to call it.

The first line of action was obvious: providing herself with medical assistance. She emitted her gas from every exposed surface, lighting it at once in a move that made her the center of a raging bonfire in the middle of the street. Thankfully, she’d been attacked with ice, and she was more than capable of melting it away. The fire had the secondary effect of cauterizing her flesh wounds, and as she focused on increasing the temperature and the fire went from red to blue hot, it welded the cracks in her armor back together. Fighting condition once more, though wary and pained, unlike before.

Dragon let the fire die away, her red-hot plating cooling from a glowing red as she did so, and noticed the red-clothed man approaching her. She caught the last thing he said, something about hunting a dragon, and reared up to her full height in response. He was armed with two sickles, made of the same red material as those spears had been, though not whining as the bomb had. She could… likely take him. But behind, the ones who had thrown the car door were being protected by three others, and perhaps she could not take all of them at the same time. It was likely time to bug out. She looked to the skies briefly, catching site of Mary, and made her decision.

“You will have a long hunt before you, then,” she addressed the red man, and launched toward the roof.

--

“Wait, no!” Mary yelled, eyes widening behind her mask as she turned toward Sidestep’s position. “Jump!” Herself, she dropped, reducing her profile as Dragon reached the roof, and the gas that the grenade had been emitting suddenly lit in Dragon’s exhaust. A fireball engulfed the area where Sidestep had been standing, following her and the air she had disturbed or breathed. It lasted just a few seconds, but Mary had not been kidding when she said had warned that it would kill Sidestep.

@Sickle-Cell

When the phone rang, it was instinct more than anything else that answered it. A voice down the other end of the line - sounding extremely exasperated - didn't even give a chance to say hello.

"A scuffle has broken out between Gladius and Wonderland in Dorchester," said the voice, recognisable as a Consortium handler that was responsible for handing down missions to operatives. "Every faction in the city, practically, has now gotten involved. Naturally, we can't let an opportunity like this pass us by without seeing if there is any potential for profit."

"Make your way to Dorchester. I need eyes on the scene. Engage any parahuman you can feasibly take down and eliminate them." The man's tone became even sterner, if such a thing was possbile. "Under no circumstances reveal your status as a Consortium operative. As far as anyone is concerned, you are an independant taking advantage of the situation. Should the Protectorate gets their hands on you, don't even think about telling them anything. Even if you are locked in a cell, you won't be safe from us."

"Are we clear?" barked the voice. "Good," he interrupted without giving any time to respond.

"Get moving. I expect results."

@POOHEAD189

---

Alice sat in a booth in the back of the Cafe, tapping her fingers across the table. She'd left very specific instructions on the back of the letter, detailing the black hair, tight blue shirt, and green eyes she'd have. If Whetstone couldn't tell who she was among all these hipsters fools, then this meeting want worth Alice's time.

While she waited, Alice looked around. The place was bland. No color. The people we drab.

This Cafe sucked, she decided.

”Fuck sake, stop stealing my thunder people!”

Before they could ready a second shot however, Seth intervened.

”oh no, that's enough from you Spite, get down. Gre.. Avarice, get up here and that money flowing”

”With pleasure”

At this command two lanky arms ending in golden claws reached up behind spite and grabbed ther shoulders, pulling him downwards. Accompanying them were 11 smaller ghostly sets of hands that grabbed Spites cloak and arms to help pull him back down to join them.

”I wasn’t done yet!”

Despite their struggling, Spite was quickly dragged back to whichever place it was the devils came from and in his place extended the tall and resplendent figure of Avarice. The golden globe headed being immediately began to produce his coins, the small golden disks appearing around his head and then spiraling down and around his arms to form rapidly growing golden double helixes, ready to be used at a moment's notice

The wonderland mook, upon seeing hell portals on one side and demon behind him, legged it as fast as he could in the only direction seemingly available to him, only to run straight into the Covenant’s breathtaking entrance. From his side street Seth was spared the worst of the vacuum bomb, but found his little alleyway now between his targets and the mad bombers who started the whole ruckus he was here to get in on.

”welllllll shiiiiit” Sloth finally chimed in ”We might wanna mosey on outta here. Let em fight each other”

”Oh, we’ll let em fight alright, but then while they're at it we’re going to mess the Protectorate's teen girl squad. You know. This whole thing we’ve been doing for 3 years now”

Sloth simply replied with a vague grunt of indifference. Seth sighed and then pulled back up the alleyway to skulk in the shadows and wait to see how this confrontation played out. Greed's golden body and armaments made doing this considerably harder.

Oh, right, the Wards had a better idea than her already of who to cover them. Okay. That put Knight in a spot of that either she’d be admitting her spot was wrong and undermine her own position as leader, or… yeah, the alternative wasn’t an option, but Knight still became self-conscious about it. In any case.

So, they steadied the craft, kind of, but then they came crashing down anyway and Knight was left with a headache. Ooough, the details of her power… She shook her head in time to note that Septima had saved them from a couple of bullets. Okay, she got onto her feet and quickly headed to watch the scene.

Gladius versus Wonderland. Gladius had the obvious upper hand, being trained soldiers basically fighting lunatics. She noted several capes, one able to create fissures against one controlling strange monsters on the side, and she had looked out just in time to see an unknown blasting off from the middle of the field, towards a roof that erupted in fire. Huh. And there was-

‘Report to HQ that the Covenant is here.’ She turned and said to the pilot or whatever else they might have nearby. Then, turning to the field once more. They were behind the Wonderland lines, with the Covenant beyond them, and then Gladius in the furthest back.

‘Okay. We’re going to break through the Wonderland lines, and then engage any who wishes to engage with us. If they all flee, we give chase. Gestalt, you and I will split defense and offense, watch for those who’re trying to attack us and don’t let them, especially if they’re Covenant. Anomaly and Septima, wreak havoc. Let’s go.’ And with that, she jumped out.

As she did, she focused her powers and froze the air in two places close to her. She made two round, thin shields, large enough to cover one of their bodies if it needed to. Because of the purpose she wanted them for, she felt she could afford to make two. The edges were thin, but not sharp, intended to strike hard. One of these shields she kept on standby, floating a bit tilted in front of her, ready to move to defend any of them should they end up in danger.

The other she grabbed and telekinetically threw into the lines of Wonderland goons, intending to telekinetically send it slamming into one criminal after another, intentionally aiming for those with guns and who might be preparing to fire at them. If it was stopped she could send it flying away from them a bit to gain speed and then surge back to slam at them again. Striking it would result in nothing, because it’s frozen air. If they grabbed it to contain the field, because they could, then she’d simply make it vanish from existence and create a new one.

It occurred to her that right now their whole team were capable distance-fighters that stirred up panic from a range. Okay. Let’s stir this pot up a bit.

immediately concerned: @Sickle-cell@Banana
locally concerned: @DracoLunaris@Kiddo@knifeman

It had taken a massive amount of self-control to pull herself away from the base, given the events spiralling out of control in Dorchester. Her last received report placed the Covenant on-scene. Vulcan was itching to step up to the plate, but sending in any more Gladius reinforcements would ramp up the Protectorate response - if more weren’t already on the way to handle Sickle and his gang of misfits.

Still, it stuck in her throat to let him walk free.

That’s why she was here.

The cafe looked quaint from the outside, but otherwise unremarkable. It was the perfect place for a low-key meeting between parahumans, she noted. Was that intentional? This ‘Toxic Taint’ seemed as though she knew what she was doing, but that was an easy thing to fake, if you put your mind to it.

Whetstone glanced into a nearby car window to check she was presentable. She wore a simple suit, with a knee-length black skirt, white blouse and a heavier black business jacket to keep the winter cold at bay. Wrapped around her neck was a bright red scarf - the same one she wore in costume, but it looked like any other scarf, so wouldn’t cause a problem. Stylish, slim sunglasses hid her eye colour and shrouded her face while also providing protection from the low winter sun. Win win. Her shoulder-length, brown hair hung down rather than the way she wore it normally. Anything to make her a little less identifiable to the general public was a bonus.

Satisfied, she entered the cafe.

Within seconds, she very nearly walked back out. The entire room stunk of burnt coffee and people. It was a sickly sweet, nauseating aroma that reminded her far too much of a faculty office. Nevertheless, she was here on business. Swallowing her disgust, a girl caught her eye at the back of the room. Crossing with purpose, she offered a hand to her.

“My contact, I presume? You know who I am. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

@Old Amsterdam

---

Sidestep’s senses exploded with information as her head snapped towards the street. Something was coming, and she sure as shit didn’t want to be here when it did. Kicking into gear, her fears were assured when her attacker yelled to run.

When an enemy tells you to run because of an ally, you do it, no questions asked.

She cleared the rooftop seconds before her previous position ceased to exist. Flipping off the ledge, she began to freefall. Using the single surviving chain, she wrapped it around a metal balcony and swinged closer to the ground. Curbstomp noticed her descent and used his power to give a platform to jump to.

Once she’d landed, he allowed the pillar to return to street level.

“Appreciated,” she said.

He shrugged. “Don’t mention it. We might wanna get out of here.”

Sidestep nodded. “Not getting paid enough for this shit.”

The two took off down a nearby alley.

@Kiddo

---

Askaryan lightly chuckled. “That’s fine,” he said under his breath, “i’ll just enjoy the view.”

Pain flared up across the back of his leg, which he’d managed to forget about in the heat of combat. Adrenaline was already beginning to crash, though, and the knife wound hurt like hell. This chick was certainly handy with a knife. She’d be a good fit in Wonderland, he thought with a half-serious snigger.

“Few streets away,” he said. “Address is on Raven Street. I expect it’ll be pretty busy with people setting up to come here. Might have left by the time we get there. Doesn’t really matter, either way. So, what’s say we get going before we get banged up?”

@Lasrever

---

The woman with the glowing pink powers tilted her head. “Of course, sweetheart. I went to all the trouble of saving you just so I could have you all to myself.” Carefully moving her hand, she ruffled the young girl’s hair. “No, stupid. If we wanted you dead, all we had to do was watch. Attacking Pipeline was a ballsy move, kid, even without that rampaging brute in the way. Just… try exercise more self-preservation in the future.”

Beside her, the scruffier man scratched the back of his head. “So… who are we running interference against?”

Shrugging, the jester kept spinning his cane.

“Anyone bar the Wards, I think,” the woman said. “And try not to kill Sickle.”

He chuckled. “No promises. Well, let’s get to it.”

As if on cue, the jester clicked his fingers together and a hole opened in a nearby wall, tinged with orange energy. These two stepped through, and it snapped shut.

“Best stay behind the shield, kid. Things are gonna get fun.”

@knifeman

---

Awwww, Sickle thought, she looked like she might have been worth my time.

No. Focus. That was right. He wasn’t done. Going through his mental checklist of stuff to do, he’d ticked off box one. Drive off Dragon. His intel hadn’t been lying. She was pretty unreal. Recruiting her could come later. Right now, he just needed her gone. It looked like she was retreating. With a bit of luck, she wouldn’t come back.

Number two. Ascertain the situation of the Wards. From his position, he could see Septima, Gestalt and Anomaly battling out the VTOL. He breathed a sigh of relief. Their new cape was one he’d heard about, but never seen in combat. Knight. She created frozen blocks of time, shaped into weapons and armour, and other useful tools. Not unlike himself, except with time, not blood. So that was Retribution’s daughter, huh?

Number three. Maintain the Wards safety by becoming the biggest threat on the field. This was a sticking point, though, as becoming the biggest target would then put him at odds with the people he was trying to protect. That being said, he could pull his punches. Goons wouldn’t. So. Time to get to work.

Coiling his arms around his body, he spun and launched both sickles at nearby goons, controlling the finer details of their movements manually. The first hit the neck of the Gladius member before spinning all the way around it, slicing it clean through. Blood spouted from the wound and ran down his body. The second dug into the goon’s heart, flooring him and making him bleed out.

Raising his hand, his four spears flung at Dragon leapt to his command above his head. One still had the screaming form of a Gladius soldier attached. Sickle grimly smiled under his mask, before using the other three spears to impale the man, clenching his fist and sending all four spear straight through his body. Blood rained down around him, the droplets stalling in mid air.

A disk of frozen time pinballed off Wonderland goons, sending them cartwheeling through the air. Sickle decided to play clay pigeons with them, impaling one mook with a spear each. Focusing on the droplets of blood in the air around him, he crystallized and hardened them, making a swarm of razor-sharp shards. With a click of his fingers, they began moving around him, getting faster and faster with every passing second.

One idiot decided to level a gun at him, but a single thought sent a flurry of shards through the man’s eyes and out the back of his head. With the shard storm catching the attention of pretty much everyone, he finally recalled his sickles, catching one in each hand.

“Alright!” he roared above the crowd. “I’m getting bored. I’ll give you to the count of five. Take the head start and run. It’ll make killing you that much more entertaining.”

@Banana@PlatinumSkink

---

Pipeline, seeing Sickle’s entrance, used the time to hobble off down the street in the direction of the Wonderland base. He didn’t have time to waste, and didn’t want to kill him yet, anyway. He was such a good fighter in the Circus.

---

Alice looked up at the words. "Pleasure, yes. Take a seat, or don't," Alice said with a quick handshake. She continued in a kinda-quiet voice. "Do excuse these horrendous meeting arrangements, I had been under the impression this was meant to be a reputable, nice place. Not a fucking shithole full of disgusting rodents, offensive smells, and irritating people."

With a sigh, Alice dumped the drink she had gotten in the small plant next to the wall. "Remind me to fix this blunder later," she noted to herself, lazily changing her eyes to an almost red color and back again. "So, friend, where shall we begin?"