[center][img]http://txt-dynamic.cdn.1001fonts.net/txt/dHRmLjYwLjdlZWU3Mi5RVUpKUjBGSlRDQktTVTVIVDFOVVQwNCwuMQAAAAAA/nervous.regular.png[/img][/center] Abigail listened closely, taking the occasional sip from her drink, and the often gulp every time Zzyxx spoke. Every time he talked it sounded like more of Abigail's brain cells were engaging in a suicide pact of monumental proportions. It was irritating beyond reasonable and unreasonable measure, to say the least. Another sip went by and the teams were divided. She was put on a team with this "Silver Prowler" guy. She had some research done before as she glanced over the various files of people she might be facing down the road prior to this event. Checking the figures for the assassin in question, she looked over to his figure before she reached into her bag and pulled out a small burlap sack of potting soil. Walking over to her team mate, she placed the dirt sack in front of him, a newly formed purple rose being created seemingly out of nothing. Wiping the trickle of blood away from her nose, Abigail raised her hand before she asked a question. [color=8dc73f]"Magic. Supernatural powers. Whatever you want to call them. Who do we go for in order to receive insight into using those?"[/color]