Ashley Reagan/Female/ 21/ Pop Star
Location: Heji Maushtia (most expensive hotel in Tokyo)

Ashley was watching the news, every news outlet in Japan was talking about terrorist attack at The Four Skirts concert last night, more specifically how Ashley reacted to it and how many lives she saved.

Ashley Reagan/Female/ 21/ Pop Star
Location: The Four Skirts concert the previous night

Ashley was singing their newest hit single when there was an explosion. Armed gunman came barrelling into the arena shooting at everyone. Ashley's sisters ran backstage. Ashley used her powers to rocket burst towards the murderers. When she landed she generated a light mist, a hazy almost fog like effect that obscured the surrounding area, to distract them while the fans ran to safety. She then proceeded to shoot them with lasers. When the sound of gunfire stopped the oldest Reagan sister found Ashley on her knees sobbing holding a little girl with a bullet hole in her forehead.

Ashley Reagan/Female/ 21/ Pop Star
Location: Heji Maushtia

Ashley's three older sisters were busily packing their bags, the rest of the world tour was cancelled. Ashley never bothered to unpack. With all the terrorists dead and no one taking credit for it, she was afraid who ever they were affiliated with would attack the plane she was on. Her sisters didn't know it but she was staying to ensure they left safely. That would involve using the paparazzi for everything they were worth which wasn't much but their constant harassment of her and her sisters would finally come in handy.

She left the hotel making sure the paparazzi were following her. A Japanese woman approached her, the woman was obviously grieving. In very bad English the woman thanked Ashley for killing the terrorists. Ashley just held the woman as they both cried.

The thick iron doors slowly opened, as the clinking of metallic feet on the ground filled the silent air. Talos's large frame leaned down amongst the various boxes, feeling with cold fingers for what he sought. He had a monochrome white mask on, done to prevent any of his identities or his base metallic form from being associated with a crime, if he did happen to get caught. He clasped onto a small, cylindrical metal object, studying it carefully to see if it was what he wanted. It turned out to be exactly what he wanted, and he put it in a secure place before leaving the vault, stepping over the lifeless body of a security guard.

He left the facility through the entrance that he had drilled into it. As he walked through the backstreets he saw a helicopter pass overhead intently. He stood watching the vehicle as it suddenly stopped its concentrated course and veered off aimlessly in the air. Talos looked at the helicopter curiously, wondering what had caused it, before he continued on his path. It wasn't long before he arrived in a less savoury area of town. Talos knew his exact destination and the course to get there, and it wasn't long before he reached the large abandoned warehouse. He tapped in the 30 digit code on the lock and opened the door. Technology was strewn everywhere, and he placed the small metal cylinder on the ground before tearing off the white mask and leaving it on the ground.

Talos turned on the television, which was replaying scenes from earlier. The strange man running from the helicopter that Talos had seen, before the camera veered off in a dazed fashion. Certainly a strange series of events. Talos began tinkering with some of the joints in his arm as the television played as white noise in the background. The arm had been damaged slightly in the scrap with the security guard. Nothing he couldn't easily fix. When it was done, he was overcome boredom and decided to head out.

Talos donned a disguise, that of a blonde man with green eyes. He rigged up the voice and mouth, making sure it looked perfect, before grabbing a sleek gun and heading out into the night, to see where it would take him and perhaps find some new tech.

---

On the outskirts of Centreville, Jason was taking refuge in an abandoned apartment block. No one ever came by this part of town anymore, so it was an obvious choice for Jason to set up his base of operations. It was time to begin his crusade, and no one was going to stop him. After he called in some favors, Jason managed to set up all of his equipment and armaments in his apartment. Everything was meticulously organised in place, which including a rack for a small amount of weapons, all ranging in sizes, and another wall rack with attachments onto it.

Jason had finally laced up his boots and looked at his ballistic mask one more time. Once this was on, he knew Jason was gone, and Hijack would have to take over. However, this is what he wanted. Finally, payback was close. Payback on every super that ran about thinking they can do whatever the hell they want without repercussions. Even some of the so called "Heroes" held their battles with wanton destruction of their surroundings. They all had to go.

Jason affixed the mask and then looked at his weaponry. He had everything else on him. A couple of flashbangs, his grappling hook, and a combat knife. He looked on his wall and picked up his prized M4 assault rifle. It had a sling on it, and Jason began to affix the rest of the attachments. He wasn't about making loud statements, but being the silent killer. He screwed on the supressor, and then clicked in the extended magazine and slid on the 4x scope. He slid out the stock and then made every check before setting out.

Hijack kept mostly to the rooftops, stalking the streets below, keeping an eye out for anyone that caught his interest.

Dinah McBride / female / 21 / hero
Location: Centerville Community College, Library

Dinah wasn't one for late nights studying in the library, but her roommates had picked tonight of all nights to host a party in their apartment, so this was the only other option. She had a paper due at midnight and had done very little of the required reading for it, so the endeavor was taking longer than she would have hoped. Tired of staring into the screen of her laptop, the blonde sat back in her chair and pinched the bridge of her nose, inhaling deeply before raising her head to look around the room. She realized that she was the only one left in the room, which made sense for campus on a Friday night. If only her professor had given them till Monday, she thought to herself glumly.

She jumped slightly when a voice behind her asked, "Hey, Dinah, you planning on being here much longer?" The young woman turned her head to see the middle aged janitor standing in the doorway between the library and the hall.

"Give me another hour?" she pleaded, "I'm nearly finished, I'm sorry, Garry," she apologized, getting up from her chair with a slight stretch as she looked at the time on her phone.

"You can be here until I have to leave," he conceded, "Although I'm going to vacuum in here, so it's going to be noisy," he warned, plopping his mop in his bucket and rolling it off to the side as he began to unravel the vacuum cleaner's long cord and plug it into the wall.

"That's fine," Dinah replied, "I need a breather anyway," she grabbed her empty water bottle of the table and slipped out of the room as Garry turned the vacuum on, the load hum of the machine filling the library and echoing into the hall.

Dinah walked down the dimly lit passage and fished in the backpocket of her jeans, smiling when her gloved fingers closed around a roll of cash. A snack from the vending machine didn't sound too bad right about now, she was craving pretzels. She turned the corner and stopped next to the water fountain, unscrewing the cap of her thermos and holding it under the spout, patiently waiting as the water trickled into the bottle. She stopped filling it when the faint sound of metal scraping metal reached her ears. It was then she realized that she wasn't alone, slowly turning her eyes down the dark hall to see a human form crouched in front of one of the doors the red light of the "exit" sign beyond silhouetting them in a crimson glow. She wasn't sure if this person had noticed her presence yet, or what they were doing (though it look suspicious), but she was rooted to the spot, unsure of whether she should approach, go get Garry, or pretend she hadn't seen anything.

Mindraker/ Unknown/ Male/ Unknown
Location: Downtown area, college campus Tags: Villain lesson #1: Ignore problems and maybe they'll go away.

The satisfying clicks of the lock tumbling into place met his ears, and he reached out a gloved hand to give the knob a jiggle. Perfect. It was then that the considerably less satisfying sound of a witness caught his attention. Raker stood, his hand on the doorknob, his head turned to face the young woman. The blank, black fabric eyes of his mask stared at her, emotionless and indifferent. The fiend's own expression underneath wasn't much different. No matter; she was but a small gnat on the windshield of his plan.

Mindraker did what he did best: he reached out into her mind, raking it over the hot coals of confusion and haze.

Where am I?

Keep walking.

What was I doing?

Saw nothing.

Foggy.

Leave.

As he played his trick, he slipped into the office and shut the door behind him, locking it back. If he pretended he wasn't there, she would probably just turn and go away. Meanwhile, he very quietly proceeded to ransack the place. Raker pulled open drawers and cabinets, sorting through papers and manila folders. He pocketed a thumb drive and picked out a few papers, then neatly put them into a folder and tucked them into his hoodie. The process felt as though it had taken long enough for the woman to be gone, but just to be sure, the hooded man approached the door and leaned his ear up against it.

Orren Daily/ Male/ 25/ Civilian
Location: His apartment

Orren walked a few blocks to where his shabby apartment was nestled. Given his rough start on life, he'd had to work long hours and take short breaks to hammer out a life for himself. Government assistance helped a little. He noticed his elderly neighbor, Miss Renfroe, outside watering her lilies. She waved at him, and he offered her an awkward smile.

His door creaked as he headed inside. He should probably spray the hinges soon...or not. Orren set is stuff down on his plastic card table and plopped into his beat up old chair. His tiny apartment was a little better than living on the street. It was cheap, the neighbors were loud, and he was pretty sure that he would be murdered if he didn't lock his doors, but it was home.

He reached for his remote and turned the TV on to watch something before bed. Lately, Orren had been going to sleep earlier and earlier. He was always tired, and no matter how long he slept, he never seemed to feel rested. He had been to a couple doctors about it, even did a sleep lab, but everything came out normal. It was frustrating to say the least. Some times he wondered if his condition was coming back. God, he hoped it wasn't.

As the show he had on played out, his eyes slowly got heavier and heavier. Maybe he could just nap here in his chair. He hadn't even realized he had fallen asleep when his phone sounded off the text alert tone. He grunted as he pulled it out, seeing a new text with a video attached, the caption reading "wake up".

Dinah McBride / female / 21 / hero
Location: Centerville Community College, hallway

At first, nothing seemed to happen. The figure turned its head to stare at her, though she couldn't make out a face in the half-light. All at once, Dinah felt hazy, the kind of fog you feel after a bad trip or intense high. She forgot what she had been doing, or why she was here. She had been standing there for seconds, no hours? Minutes. Maybe she should go-

A sudden stabbing pain flashed through her brain, her vision going red as she let out a yelp of surprise and hurt, knees buckling as she dropped to the floor clutching her head, the water bottle in her hand clattering to the floor and liquid spilling out onto the tile. She squeezed her eyes shut, palms covering her face as she struggled to recover. The pain reminded her of something she had long since forgotten, from a time long since past. She had forgotten all about the person by the door, but now she was confronting a whole new set of problems. She had felt something like this before, when she was a child strapped to a metal chair, wires and bright lights everywhere.

She wasn't sure how long she knelt there before the black spots in her vision started to clear and she recovered control of her limbs. She exhaled sharply and shook her head as her eyes fluttered open once more to see an empty hall before her. What the hell was that? She thought, slowly picking up the water bottle and using the fountain to help haul herself to her feet. She had had panic attacks in the past, not so much anymore, but certainly never like this. She looked down at the dark glove on her free hand, fingers slowly closing into a fist as she regained her composure, taking one last look down the hall. Empty. Maybe she was just seeing things, the ambience had set her off.

She hesitated before turning and hurrying back to the library. Man, this place was creepy when it was empty. Garry was still vacuuming, so she simply gathered her things off the table and stuffed it all into her backpack. That was enough for one night, she could finish the paper somewhere else. She shouldered her belongings and hurried back out into the hallway.

Creep Bros
Location: At Kinko's straight flippin' copies

Soft footfalls lead away from the door. Raker waited until he was sure the coast was clear before he slithered out of the room. He'd fixed it back to make it look as though no one had been inside. He pulled the door shut behind him, gaining him the attention of the janitor as he vacuumed. The two exchanged brief glances.

"Hey what are you-," The man didn't finished his sentence before he cut himself off, his brows scrunching in confusion. The masked man walked right by him while he stood there, trying to remember what it was he was going to say. By the time the janitor recollected his thoughts, the Raker was long gone.

As Mindraker approached his new destination, his cohort was already waiting for him. The plain, black plastic of his mask stared blankly at him from under the black hood. Mask was crouching down in the shadows of an alley, hidden among the trash bags and discarded furniture. Mindraker approached and gave him a silent nod, and the man stood to follow him.

The two silently slunk through the dark, heading down an adjacent alley that lead into the better lit street. They stuck to the shadows, like two rats out of the sewer. Finally, they reached their destination. A...Kinko's? A strange front for villainy, that was for sure.

The office store was closed by now, the doors firmly locked. But that didn't stop Black Mask from teleporting them inside. They stood outside the glass doors, then in a blink of an eye and a bust of black smoke, they were on the other side of the glass. Raker slipped the files out of his hoodie and went to start up a copy machine while Black Mask glanced around for security cameras and/or guards.

The sound of several pages being copied and printed filled the shop as the two began to meander around, waiting for the machine to finish. Fresh ink and the smell of slightly mildewed carpet wafted through the air. Once Black Mask was certain that they were in the clear, he let his guard down to peruse the magazine rack that stood near the check out. He picked up one of the glossy gossip books and began to flip through the pages, offered only meager entertainment at best. $12.99? Who bought this shit?

Douglas Song

Best 8 Motel

Tea, fresh tea, brewed in a cheaply made and all too bland white plastic and glass little coffeepot. It was sort of a disappointment, but it was the best there was at the moment; wasn't as though he had a teapot and a stove, let alone fireplace and a steel kettle, but he did at least have boiling water and somewhere to drink it. It also helped that he had the tea itself, considering it was a luxury on a non-existent budget. In fact, all of his situation the lone man at the edge of the tiny bed was thankful for, even if it was ten years out of date and all off-white and equally garish honey oak furniture.

Pouring a cup carefully now, the pair of hands then garnished it with the bag itself, setting it aside after to steep. This was the morning routine, the ritual, tea first before all other things, though the entire "morning" matter was debatable. Rather whatever time he awoke this story played out just as it did in the same room in the same manner. It did not deviate, it did not change. The time of day certainly did, but paying the few bills that existed required a flexible schedule. After all, being paid by relieving petty criminals of their cash? Not all too efficient work. Sure, it was theft all its own, but maybe they would reconsider their decisions, perhaps better than a prison sentence would have offered.

Song did not really think too deep into the matter, instead only looking to the rising steam of the cup and where it sat upon the tabletop. Had his attention been allowed to drift, his mind to wander, he might not have noticed the face of the coffeepot itself being slightly off center. Still, not so much as shifting or interrupting his thought of no thought, a hand of his reached out to straighten little machine out; so subtle an adjustment that returned it to its rightful place.

"There." He said, speaking to no one but himself, nodding in approval.

It at last freed him to do as his work demanded of him, rather his moral compass. It was work itself, perhaps "good" work, perhaps not. What it was at this point was whatever it was, good and bad. However, there was no sense in staring down the steeping tea anymore now that he had resolved the issue and cleared his mind of its inner debates. In short order he dressed himself, having only devoted enough time to wash his face, give a brush of the teeth, and throw a jacket over the familiar white sweatshirt before he returned to the tea and sat down.

Between drinking it, sitting there at the edge of the bed, he emptied his mind. No room for anger, above all other things. That was the difficult one, especially knowing that in short order he would be on and out into the night, with the sole purpose of finding something constructive to do with it. It was tempting to find other means to say the least, the few intrusive thoughts he had, but they were all impulsive to him; Song wasn't just a "boy" anymore who could live that life. At least now he truly understood better, at the very least more lucidly, given the tea had come to replace alcohol. But the last cup had always been the most difficult.

Until he was out on the night, the sound of the door clicking shut behind him...

Agent 021, alias “Hotshot”.
Location: Centerville South Expressway
Time: 19:22
Responding to disturbance by meta-Human identified as “Mindraker”.

---

“That’s not Mindraker.” Richard Chang said as he was placing his gloves over his hands. The van he was riding swerved to the left, forcing him to grab a metal rod welded to the roof of this van to keep his balance.

“Any information you would like to share with us?” A voice came over the intercom. From a speaker set on the front wall of the van separating Chang and a field agent from the driver and a security personnel.

“The man… or whatever that guy is… doesn’t just climb the fence of a Naval base. He sneaks around it. He hitches on a ship and hides there until it docks at the base. Don’t you find it suspicious that he was seen taking the front entrance?” Chang responded with another question.

“Several witnesses have reported an individual of his likeness. Our remote observational drones have took images that confirm their visual reports.” Chang sighed. He placed on his other glove before answering back. “We’re talking about a guy who mind controls people. Who’s to say we’re not chasing some kind of mirage or something?”

“In any which case your orders are to investigate the disruption and apprehend any individual operating that vehicle. Is that understood?” Chang’s superior asked. He nodded his head and answered with a stiff “Yes sir”. The last piece of equipment Chang had to place on was his headgear. He always hated wearing it. The feeling of being smother because of its tight design. He felt the smooth hydro-plastic polymer touch his lips, nose, ears and the rest of his exposed tissues. Even after god knows how many times he wore it, it still felt uncomfortable.

The field agent in front of Chang held thermographic camera directed at him. “Field test Mr. Chang. Whenever you’re ready.” She said. The camera picked up the gradual change of temperature from Chang. He and the area around him spiked up in temperature. Not enough to cause any damage but it was clearly visible on the camera. The field agent held up her thumb and Chang reverted back to his normal body temperature. “Agent 021 is ready for service.” She spoke. “Affirmative.” The speaker system answered back. “Good hunting Hotshot.”

The van came to a halt by the side of the highway. Hotshot and the field agent unloaded device and placed it on the side of the road. “10 minutes till ETA.” The security officer inside the van yelled. Hotshot nodded. He took a deep breathe in and waited for the car to get within sight. Nine minutes later, he saw the vehicle speeding towards their direction. Hotshot ordered his team to get ready. Hotshot was using the heat from his body to partially melt the asphalt on the road behind the spike strip. He hoped the flat tires would sink into the road.
And then it came. The spike strip popped on mark. It extended just in time to catch the vehicle’s front tires. Then it shredded the back. The front wheels sunk into the partially melted asphalt sending the vehicle into a somersault. The car crashed on its back. This was not part of Hotshot’s plan. “Get paramedics on my location as soon as possible.” Hotshot ordered through his mike embedded into his headgear. He then rushed towards the smoking wreck.

Talos walked quietly down the dark, empty backstreets. Tonight, Centreville seemed to be sleeping. That was good. Less people meant less resistance in whatever he tried to do. As he turned a corner he saw a stumbling man, clearly intoxicated and clutching a bottle of beer in his shaking hand. The man looked up at Talos, seeing him as just another man, then collapsed in a drunken heap on the ground. The man was asleep in an instant. "Pathetic..." Talos muttered. He grabbed the bottle in his hands and cracked it in two, allowing the fluid to run down the street into the gutter. He dropped the remains and carried on walking. He came to less of a backstreet area, one that was lit more with street lamps.

Still, however there was a lack of people in town tonight. The silence was deafening. There were shops around here. Perhaps Talos could salvage some items from one of them. He turned a corner to see a store, which he could see through the windows, was filled to the brim with gadgets and technology of a kind. This would do. Now Talos had to get in. He walked around to the back, looking for the back entrance to the store. He found it soon enough, and took off his flesh-coloured glove. He slid out a long, grey wire from a compartment in his finger and lent down to study the lock. Talos twisted the wire into shape and inserted it into the lock, which clicked open with ease.

Talos walked into the store, placing the glove back on his finger and closing the door behind him. He searched through the quiet Kinko's for anything of interest. Copy machines? He had those already. Printers? Same story. He walked down the hall, glancing into rooms for something of interest. He noticed what appeared to be a 3D printer - he would definitely come back for that. As Talos walked further into the store, he heard something. The sound of a copy machine working. And another sound too... pacing footsteps. Someone else was here. A security guard, probably. Nobody he couldn't dispatch. He turned the corner where the source of the noise was coming from.

It wasn't a security guard... it was two masked men. Talos immediately recognised one as the masked man from the helicopter incident on the news. Talos stood in the doorway, staring at the men with a cocked head, reaching for a knife.

"Hijack"
Near Kinko's
Two targets identified. No... Three...
@Metronome@KaijuBaragon

---

The inky black night provided the perfect camouflage for Jason as he prowled the rooftops, looking down upon the streets below. He was on the lookout for anything that might seem out of the ordinary. He had to remain vigilant in this situation, he didn't want to shoot an innocent. Jason promised himself that he would not let his personal crusade affect innocent bystanders. While many won't agree with his methods, they'll see in time. Every single super in this city has to go. Fortunately, his choice to wear all black and operate at this time would hopefully give Jason a headstart and an advantage with anyone he sees. It seemed it wouldn't be too long before something caught his attention.

Jason slung the M4 rifle over his shoulder and made his way over to where he saw two masked figures in hoodies heading towards a Kinko's. He readied his grappling hook and shot it across the street, a satisfying metal clink echoed through the night as the hook managed to latch onto something. Jason affixed the launcher to his waist and jumped, holding onto the rope and planting his feet against the wall of the building. He crept to the edge, making sure he could lean around and keep an eye on the target building. He watched as one teleported the two inside. Jason noted that it could be a problem to take aim on him if the man with the black mask became aware of his whereabouts. It seemed like it would be advantageous to try and take him out first. It would get real dicey if both of them possessed teleporting powers.

The gun-toting vigilante clambered up to the top of the nearby building, picking up the grappling hook and letting the cord slide back into it's compartment with the hook with it. He crept his way to the edge of the roof and laid down, getting in place to take a shot. However, it seemed a blonde hair man was approaching the shop. What did he want? The store was closed. Jason waited and watched from afar as the man disappeared to the back of the building. He shrugged. If things go down, then it was just another head to put his crosshairs over. Finally, he saw the man in the black mask, who seemed to be reading some sort of magazine. Perfect, a distraction would make this all too easy.

Jason readied the gun, comfortably putting the stock against his shoulder and looked down the sights. He put the rifle on single shot, and clicked the safety off. His sights were aimed directly at the man's head. Jason exhaled slowly, and squeezed the trigger, the shot muffled with the suppressor as his bullet flew through the air, and smashed the glass pane between him and his target.

Creep Bros
Location: Kinko's Tags: Talos and his pet knife

Fifteen new positions to keep him interested!

Black Mask's eyes boredly scanned over the article. Half this stuff didn't even sound possible. A movement over the top of the magazine brought him back into the shop, away from the latest Cosmopolitan. His dark eyes lifted to look at a strange figure standing in the doorway across the room, staring at them. He flicked his attention over to Mindraker, who was busy putting the hot and fresh papers into the folder he had nicked from the school.

The darkly dressed man plopped the magazine down onto the check out counter, the sharp snap gaining his cohort's attention. Raker looked up, then followed his gaze. Black Mask stood rigid, shoulders back and positioned for a fight. His hands dropped down to his side, black gloves in a fist. He assumed this man was a security guard, and was reaching for either a phone or a gun.

Raker, always the uncanny calm, simply tucked his folder away and straightened up to face the man. His posture didn't portray any sign of hostility or alarm. He simply did what he always did: reach into the man's mind. But...there wasn't anything there. Mindraker tilted his head just a smidge. This man wasn't human. It was also safe to assume that he wasn't a guard either.

Black Mask, upon seeing that their new foe hadn't lost his concentration, took a menacing step forward. He was much quicker to start a fight than his comrade, but Raker was quick to remind him that they weren't here to waste time. Mindraker stuck an arm out to catch the larger villain. He nodded his head towards the door when Mask looked at him. It was time to go.

With that, Mindraker turned his back to the strange non-human and began walking towards the door. Black Mask's gaze lingered on him for a moment longer before he, too, turned to leave. He whirled around just in time to see the man standing on the roof across the street, aiming the rifle at the two of them. Instinct was instant. Black Mask lunged forward to catch up with Mindraker, and just like that, the two were gone in a cloud of smoke.

The duo reappeared up the street a ways. Black Mask whipped back around to see if the man was still there, but didn't risk lingering too long. He pushed Raker forward, and the two began to run. The hole in the shop window, and new hole in the laminate floor, had been right where the black dressed villain had been standing.

Talos looked back hard at the masked man as his stare attempted to bore into him. Whatever the masked assailant was looking for, he clearly couldn't find it in Talos and the android noticed the man's body language change and step back. As the larger man in the black mask stepped forward, Talos clenched his metal fingers down on the knife, before the black mask was held back firmly by the smaller individual. Talos watched as the two headed for the door, taking glances back at him as they walked. These two clearly weren't ordinary humans, and Talos's memory took a clear picture of the two as they began to leave.

Suddenly, gunshots, confusion. The bullet whipped into the shop, but not before the two men had disappeared in a cloud of smoke. Talos's suspicions about the two men were confirmed then - they were certainly metahumans. Talos walked up to the spot where the two men had been, lifting out the bullet which was lodged in the floor and examining it. This was quality weaponry. Nothing cheap or haphazard. His neck suddenly whipped around to the dark humanoid shape on the building opposite the shop, which his advanced sight could clearly make out.

Talos used an arm to break away the shards of glass that the bullet had broken in the window before stepping out. His destination was the man on the roof, who hopefully would still be in a state of confusion after the disappearance of the two men. He picked the lock to the door and opened it firmly, heading immediately to the stairs. To save time, he climbed up the space in the middle of the spiral staircase, determined and focus. He reached the top floor in little time. He walked up to the door, and deciding that picking the lock might give the man time to escape, simply raised back his leg and kicked open the thin metal door.

There the man was, crouched over the side of the building. Talos stepped forward, his cold eyes locked on the dark figure.

"You there. Shooter. Who are you?"

Scorn / female / 29 / Villian
Location: Abandoned Train Tunnel

Balancing on a rusted rail, the leader of the the Reapers, Scorn, hummed to herself, making her way to the outside world that waited above. Procreating her den for her associates had been a relatively simple chore. The previous tenants were easily persuaded to leave with a few gunshots. They had scattered like rats from a flame, leaving to seek refuge elsewhere. That had been several months ago, when her gang had been nothing but her and a few other like minded individuals. Now after hard work her gang was one of the larger gangs, taking territory as it pleased when it wanted. Centerville had become Scorn's playground one she had little desire of sharing, that was the recent trouble she was having. Her playground was now a chessboard, having to contend with would be heroes and other villian's with there own agendas.

The activity of her gang had waned for the past few weeks as she watched and waited but her patience was wearing thin and she needed some form of action to occur to provide her with some fun and entertainment.

"Time for the weasel to be popped," she mused to herself as she balanced on the rail, the darkness giving way to blinding light as she headed out into the city, not knowing what to expect, only that it would be beautiful chaos, even if she had to start it herself.

Douglas Song

Sanders Street

The zipper of the man's jacket rode up to the neck and the hood soon followed over most his face. After all, Song did not exactly need to see anything to be aware of it and it kept him out of trouble with anyone looking for it until he had an actual reason to do something about that fact; it was "All in the eyes." as he had heard it before, that was the trick. Not looking at people was a good way to avoid starting conflict, until of course there was a reason, a real reason at that. Some sort of actual justification other than the mere impulse to do so.

Fortunately it was quiet enough out tonight, a fact he noted as he silently avoided a lamp post, having not had any issue with people yet on the stereotypical "bad side of town". It all came with being urban sprawl beside a highway, but the positive of it was, was that it had plenty of crime to sustain a lifestyle as Song's, granted finding the new "score" was more difficult than it was in the past. At least it was morally rewarding, if not a bit uninteresting in the practical execution. So by the time the man in the black jacket met the curb at the street, he at last glanced to one side, then the other.

A few lights, a little traffic, still a pervasive ambient calm.

"Huh." He muttered, stepping out on to the street and across the walk, hands buried in his pockets.

It never crossed his mind much that people had off nights, that other parts of the city were reasonably more alive. That odd realization, the recognition of it as fact, sort of brought a little spark of joy to him, however brief and small it was. Like a promise that things were not as bad as they were seen to be. That glint of optimism is what Song held on to, that he might be able to be a part of that. Perhaps his actions really had made things better? It wasn't as though he was getting coverage or attention, but the fact his locale had improved? Maybe just coincidence, maybe.

He kept on walking, travelling further and further in the early night away from home, keeping eye and ear open. Metaphorically speaking at least, the senses could be fooled but one's breath, one's soul, rather their qi couldn't be.

Creep Bros
Location: Kinko's Tags: Little Lion Man

The moon had risen to settle into the middle of the black sky. Not many stars shone over this city. The air had cooled considerably. Each huff of breath plumed out of the two villains' masks as they ran. Once the Kinko's shop and the shooter were far behind them, they began to slow. They set into a comfortable walking pace, using their knowledge of the city's layout to take a maze-like course towards their next destination. The night wasn't over yet.

The blacked out shop windows and empty parking lots made it easy to get around without being noticed. Plenty of drunks and tweekers were out this time of night, and their hoodie uniforms blended right in. That was the point, wasn't it?

Their path led them to Sanders street. They paused as the alley they had worked their way down came to an end, then darted across the street to the next. As they hustled, Black Mask happened to catch a stray glance at a bundled up man walking their way up the sidewalk. Probably homeless. It was common on this side of town. Mask ignored him and carried on after Raker.

They soon came to a broadcasting station owned by one of the local news companies. The large window in the front showed that the lights were off, the blinds halfway drawn shut. Black Mask stopped beside Raker and leaned down to peer inside. He never teleported somewhere that he didn't know or couldn't see. It wasn't that he couldn't , he just knew better. Ending up spliced with a wall was a shitty way to die. He got a look of the layout, then ported them in. Their positions became clear once more: Black Mask stood guard, and Mindraker went about searching for what he wanted to steal.

Dinah McBride / female / 21 / hero
Location: the Streets of Centerville; Kinko's is Popular This Time of Night
Possible Interactions: @KaijuBaragon @GingerBoi123

Dinah took the stairs to the first floor and pushed wide the front doors as she headed down the steps of the main building. She was still unclear as to what had just happened, she just knew she needed to get home, party or no party. She tucked her hands in her pockets as she headed toward the bus stop. Normally she would just walk back, but as it was dark and she was alone, it was probably better to take public transport. She sat down on the bench and rested her hands on her lap, refraining from twiddling with her phone in order to keep her wits about her. The city at night could be unforgiving.

She waited for what seemed like forever (in reality maybe five minutes), and checking the time, she found that much to her dismay, the buses had stopped running by this hour. Great. Muttering darkly, she stood once more and started walking down the empty sidewalk, gloved hands stuffed in the pocket of her light grey hoodie. She was capable of taking care of herself, but there was no way she was going to use her powers to do it. Although, once she had been accosted by some mugger with a knife, and in an attempt to make him leave, had turned a tissue in her purse to gold and gave it to him. No doubt he was disappointed later when he discovered it was a snot rag and not, in fact, a sheet of pure gold. Other than that, she found no real use for her power. Heaven knew she would never use it on a living person, and that would be the only real way to stop someone. No, there were plenty of superhumans in the city without her jumping into the fray.

Her train of thought was interrupted by the sound of gunshots. An eventful night indeed. She had just turned the corner in time to see two figures suddenly appear in the middle of the street, where they certainly had not been before, then dart off into the night. Moments later, a man (at least she assumed it was judging by the height), stepped out of a store front and hurried across the street, disappearing into the building the shots had come from.

Once again she froze, unsure of how to proceed. This was her usual route home, the one that was best lit and, up until now, seemed to have the least amount of danger. First her panic attack (that's what she was calling it) at the school, now she had stumbled onto a gunfight? This really was her lucky night. Although, she though to herself, blue eyes scanning the scene, someone could be in serious trouble. She could call for help, but it may be too late by the time anyone got here. However, if she did discover a dire situation, what could she do?

"I'm going to get myself killed," she mumbled to herself with a shake of her head, slipping to the side of the street that the shots had been fired from and sticking close to the sides of the building, clutching the straps of her backpack tightly as she made her way to the door that the tall man had disappeared into. It was lightly ajar, but the lights were off and there appeared to be no one inside. She sucked in a breath before pulling her hood over her blonde hair and stepping inside, pausing as her eyes adjusted to the darkness. She could see closed doors to her right, and a set of stairs on the left. Judging from the barely audible shuffling coming from above her, she took her chance with the stairs, remaining as quiet as humanly possible as she crept upward.

Douglas Song

Sanders Street - News 41 Broadcast Station

The majority of the night life had remained just as tame as it had started, perhaps more promising than it should have been here, but nothing as that ever lasts long in the city; cities never sleep after all. Far down by now, having walked perhaps an hour or so, minding his own tempo, Song noted two figures break from the concealment of an alleyway and with blind, but apparently directed motivation, dash across the street. Looking up for the first time everything as as off as one imagined it to be. Two masked men in black, running? Darting between one alleyway and another, all while running out across an open street?

Even if they were not criminals they kept things lively, enough so that as soon as they came, they were already gone. Song had a moment to decide his course of action. He looked to his left, then to his right, noting no real attention from the line of sight of his hood before he shrugged to himself. With a short sprint across the equally devoid street, Song's boots soon left pavement and a stride stepped atop the roof of a car with no more sound or force than a gust of evening wind, and soon he was upward bound to a fire escape. Catching the chill metal railing with his hands, the man pulled himself up to crouching atop it with four points of contact. Having already covered two stories, the last couple were no more than a leap off the rail, a jump from a windowsill, and a few steps run up the vertical brick.

Landing atop the roof and skirting along its ledge, Song hadn't an issue getting sight of the two men from a distance, dropping from one roof to another after without so much as a noise. He laid low, but never once crouched, stooped or slunk, just calmly walking to keep in sight of the two equally black clad men. Of course the trailing followed with a reward of sorts, the kind that he really hadn't been expecting. That was assuming he had a reason to expect anything at all like this; it sort of happened, a happy accident, rather an unhappy one that could be made well, perhaps.

The duo stood there at first, peering into the window. Song knew from his own experience the men were scoping the place out, after all, a local radio station at night, well after closing hours, while dressed in black and hustling from cover to cover in the bad part of town? The real question was not what they were doing, but why. There was really no getting a better look at this distance, the observer walking behind a rotating vent that poured out a faint steam, all to obscure his presence, but by the time he rounded it only one thing was certain; they both had vanished.

"Interesting." He noted, hands back again in his pockets, not to spite the brisk air but think more of what he just witnessed.

There was a short period of pause, a few minutes, before it was clear they either had vanished physically or just appeared to have. Whatever the case was, it was a far cry from normalcy and something that merited a bit of investigation. Looking over the ledge, some fifty feet up from the concrete, Song made himself sure that no one would notice a shadow slide down a darkened corner, one cast into more darkness between two buildings. Boots silently grinding against the brick, he let off at the last bit and landed crouched, a palm steadying him.

Good, no one seemed to notice he was here, but now finding where the other two figures went at the broadcasting station was the only challenge remaining. How did they manage that disappearing act and why here? The building was somehow related, considering they sought to get inside. So the first place to check? The inside of the building, but that would come soon enough.

@Metronome

Creep Bros
Location: News Station 41: The Eye Tags: Douglas song, a band of miscreants

The equipment, once all unplugged and stashed into a large tote, wasn't exactly light. After this haul, they would have to return to their base to drop it off. Once Mindraker was done compiling it all, Black Mask came over to pick it up. He grunted as he shouldered the heavy bag. This would slow them down considerably. He walked slowly towards the door and peered out the window to make sure the street was still clear. All was well. So, like that, the two disappeared again.

Black Mask put them in the alleyway next to the building, and the two began to slowly work their way past the homeless camp that occupied it. People were packed against the walls, snoozing in sleeping bags and small tents. Someone had a barrel fire going. No one stirred to bother the two villains, however. At this point, these guys had probably seen just about everything.

The two crossed the street that the alley exited into and where about to slink into the next before they were stopped. A group of young men, dressed in baggy clothes and smelling of drugs, took notice of them. The leader of the pack, a lanky if not slightly muscular man with a brown paper bag in his hand to hide the booze, waddled his way towards them. He seemed to have misplaced his belt. His minions flanked him, looking every bit as disheveled.

"This ain't your neighborhood, freaks," Was the opening line the man chose. He smirked as he looked them up and down. "What're you tryina' be? Some kind of bad guys? I don't know if you heard or not, but I'm the bad guy in this hood." There was a round of soft chuckles and a couple "Tell 'em man"s from the group. Mindraker wasn't interested. Black Mask eyed them as the two moved to get around the group, but their path was quickly blocked.

"Oh he think he can't talk. What, you too good or somethin'? What you got in that bag, man? You just get done robbin' a bank in my hood, and you think you ain't gon' share?"

This was getting ridiculous.

Mindraker scanned his eyes over their numbers, about eight in total. He should be able to handle them without much strain, but lately he'd been having trouble tackling groups. Black Mask took notice of Raker eyeing the group; he had a bad feeling about this. Last time his cohort tried this, a couple weeks ago, it hadn't worked out so well. Just in case, Black Mask ported away, taking himself to a nearby rooftop to drop the bag off safely and reappearing by Mindraker's side to offer back up.

"Oh! What the fuck!" That was the general reaction of the thugs as Black Mask reappeared. They were starting to cause a ruckus, trying to decide if they should try and take out the two not-so-normal villains. They didn't get a chance to finish before Raker entered their minds, collectively drowning the group in a hazy fog of confusion. The degenerates immediately lost their aggression and started to wander off. Raker kept his hold over their minds until they were far enough away to not start the scene all over again. Once he was satisfied, he released them and turned to stagger off.

Mindraker took a couple clumsy steps, as if he were drunk. He used his hand to guide himself along the brick wall. Black Mask followed behind him, watching him intently. Was he going to...and then there it was.

About halfway down the alley, Mindraker's legs gave out. He crumpled to the group, his body rigid. The hooded man began to convulse violently. Black Mask quickly glanced down either side of the alley, making sure that they were alone. He carefully rolled the seizing man onto his side and backed off to wait it out. He couldn't teleport with Raker like this, not unless he wanted to make it worse. He knew the best thing to do was to wait and hope they went unnoticed.