Bjorn fell into silence as Karen opened the door for him. His mouth dangling open with something resembling admiration in his eyes, though his mouth corners seemed to be attempting to drive themselves downwards, with his brows attempting to follow. He nodded in appreciation as she entered the room and began speaking with Virgil.

"Oh, uh yes, I can help," he said, entering the room swiftly and placing the bagels on the table. He pointed at them just to assure that Virgil knew about them, then walked over to help look.

"Not a lot of places you can hide things here, I'll check under the bed, check the closet," he said, then crouched down and began reaching around under Malcolm's bed.

"Thanks, Bjorn," said Karen, offering him a grateful smile, "but I think I might've found it. You can give me a hand pulling it out, though."

Reaching beneath the bed, she seized hold of the large, black duffel bag. Of course, Malcolm wouldn't just leave the case sitting exposed. She should've figured as much. Given the weight of this thing, there were probably other items inside as well. It really emphasized how much physically stronger Mal was than her, that he could comfortably lug around something like this.

It was a good reminder to train harder in her human form while she was down here. If she got into a fight, she might be in trouble against a big dude, unless she relied on her magic to tip the scales.

Of course Karen found it immediately. Bjorn slid his way over.

"That's a big bag, how did I not notice that before?" he wondered, placing a finger on his chin as he pulled it out from under the bed with just his finger tips.

"Why do you need that anyway? Is it for a class?" he asked, lifting it easily and holding it out to her.

It had been a good day.

Mal had been out for a little venture about the town; doing some work at the gym to pay Persephone back for breaking so much of her equipment, catching up with old friends he'd made- both former Vanguard employees who'd stuck around below the waves after their official duties had ended and a few of the locals he'd met and worked with in those days. Wandered the bazaar for a bit. Picked up some groceries on the way home...

All in all, it had been a good day.

Which is quite perplexing how we now find Mal, standing in the now open doorway of his dorm. Grocery bag gripped in one hand while the other still remained wrapped around the coral door-handle, seemingly gripping it so tightly that it'd make one wonder why it hadn't snapped under the force and watching the trio sorting through his personal affects with all the grace and tact of a bull in a china shop.

His brow twitched.

It had been a good day.

"Oh, hey." The boy finally spoke after a moment of silence, loud enough to get the attention of the assembled interlopers. Calm, but with a peculiar edge to it. "So..."

His tone was a recognizable sign to those who knew him that he was more than a little angry about what was going on here.

As was the uncharacteristic unfriendly smile that accompanied it.

"Mind telling me what the honest-to-god fuck you're all doing?"

Karen accepted the duffel bag from Bjorn with a slight grunt, the weight on her arms causing her to quickly turn and place it down onto the bed. The Norwegian was every bit as strong as he looked, standing around six feet and five inches tall. Smiling up at him, she gave a slight wink to the blond boy. "Thanks, big guy. I just need it for some personal business."

Unfortunately, just as she unzipped the bag to retrieve the case, the sound of Mal's voice caused her to freeze dead in her tracks. She knew that tone of voice rather well. It meant that he wasn't terribly pleased with her.

Turning slowly to look at him, she offered her little brother a casual wave of the hand. "Heya, Mal. Uh, they were just helping me find something I needed to borrow."

Lifting the case out of the duffel bag, she held it up for Mal to see. Sealed as it was, there was little chance that either of his two roommates could guess at its true purpose. Still, she was quick to zip the bag up again, just in case one of them decided to take a peak at whatever else was inside it.

Mal's brow twitched again as Karen not only heaved the heavy duffel-bag, lined with armoured plate, stitched with prometheum-based fibres and kept shut by a padlock with a built-in biometric scanner with the express intention of keeping people out of it onto his bed... but then went ahead and opened it.

The boy took a long breath to calm himself. He could already feel a storm of a headache coming on.

'Clearly going to have to reset who has access to my shit after this...'

Stepping forward and setting his bag down on the counter of the communal kitchen, Mal's eyes shifted slowly, deliberately between the Dakotan and the Norwegian before resting on Karen again. Head tilting to the side slightly as he spoke again with that same razor sharp tone.

"Could you two give us a minute? I think I need to have a word or two with our Kare-Bear here..."

Having shoved the other two from their room, Karen had spent the last three minutes being berated for her gross incompetence in...well, just about everything she'd done since letting Bjorn into his room.

"...I'm sorry! I'm really, really sorry, Mal!" said Karen, her eyes lowered to the ground. "I know, I was dumb for not calling you. I haven't really bothered with cellphones for eight months, and so I just didn't think to use it. I promise, I'll call from now on!"

While she had often bickered with Mal about...well, a lot of things, she really didn't like it when they were actually angry with one another. She knew she had messed up, however--normally she wouldn't have been so reckless, not back before her exile to the Rock of Eternity. She had grown accustomed to simply doing whatever she liked without really considering the feelings of others...yet another reason she was thankful now that she was taking a break from Lady Arcana.

"It's just...there might be a group of guys drugging girls from the campus. Ophelia went to a party last night and was given some weird pills, and doesn't half-remember what happened to her," explained Karen, glancing over to the case she had removed. "I'm going to go with her to a party tonight and try to find out what's in those pills."

For his part, Mal just stared Karen down in silence as she explained herself, arms crossed head tilted slightly to the side and a look in his eyes advertising very clearly that the young Latina was going to have to try just a little harder to regain his trust after a stunt like that.

But had he any intention of arguing any further with her, he didn't show it, as his brows furrowed at what exactly the blonde was telling him led her down this course of action. An only semi-voluntary hum rattling in his throat as his eyes momentarily shifted toward the sound-proofing device he'd fished out of his toolkit and slapped on the wall as his roommates were shown out, before his vision shifted to give both men a once-over through the wall, to see if they were trying to listen in or not, still more than a little annoyed for their part in this whole invasion of his privacy.

"Where?" Mal asked in that familiar tone that only really made itself known when he was 'working'. "And when?"

"Ophelia didn't tell me the address, but I'm going with her to another party tonight, like I said. I want to use your chemical scanner to analyze those drugs, said Karen. She had honestly hoped to avoid getting Malcolm too wrapped up in all of this, as she didn't know whether or not he would approve of her jumping back into the hero game so soon after she had arrived. But there was no getting around that now, was there?

Still, wasn't it a little strange that he had brought a whole duffel bag full of obviously heavy equipment with him? What on Earth was he planning to do down here?

"And don't worry, I know not to take any drinks I didn't see poured, and I definitely know not to take any weird pills," she reassured Malcolm.

"You do not get to extol me about your own common sense right now." Mal replied curtly. "You lost that luxury about ten minutes ago."

Lowering his hands to the desk he was leaning on, where they almost immediately began tapping against it's steel frame to the habitual tune of some beat he'd long forgotten the origin of, Mal cast another glance to the side, eyeballing Virgil through the wall again and weighing his options.

Part of him wanted to go out there, grab the guy by the collar and drag him in here for this kind of talk.

Another, more rational part of his psyche reminded him that a walking, talking tesla coil was not exactly the most subtle thing to bring to the table in a situation like this, where they didn't necessarily want to advertise with big neon signs 'HEY, EVERYBODY! THE BIG DAMNED HEROES ARE HERE!' if they wanted to find a lead they could pursue later.

...And another, quieter part of him was still just a little pissed that one of his closest friends hadn't spared a single thought of caution before wantonly foraging through his belongings with someone he barely knew.

What if they had actually found something? Sure, Virgil didn't care much about who knew about his gifts, but someone like Mal didn't exactly have that luxury, dammit.

Knitting his eyes shut and taking a long, controlled breath, the Watchdog of Bludhaven finally spoke.

"Okay. This is how we're gonna do this..."

February 7th; 1:31 PM
Lycus Dorm, University of Poseidonis, Atlantis

"So."

The jig was up, and Static suddenly felt really about about letting things progress like this. "She was looking for something." He said rather quickly. "And I don't really know what she knows and what's in your black box" Virgil was trying his best to keep things discreet and subtle, but he knew he wasn't doing well. The truth of the matter was that he didn't know if Karen was aware of Malcolm being a vigilante. It was possible, but Virgil had kept his own alter-ego a secret from his parents and sister for a good while before they eventually found out. Maybe Virgil wasn't the only one who kept his costume in his closet, just in case.

However, Malcolm asked for him and Bjorn to leave, and Virgil did so promptly. He followed Bjorn out and closed the door behind him. Virgil leaned against the door with a sigh. He wasn't looking to eavesdrop into their conversation, but rather protect the room from any more intruders. "Sorry, B." Virgil shook his head. "I should have chased her away, now Mal's pissed at us because we went through his stuff."

Bjorn chuckled a minute, picking his key up off the floor and shoving it into his pocket.

"No problem Virgil," he said with a smile on his face. "I get the sense Malcolm is not my biggest fan anyway. I have no clue why," he admitted, putting his hands in his pockets and slowly wandering in a small circle.

"You have any more classes? I don't, so if you want to go see a movie or wander around campus a bit, I am able to do so," he said. "I should get a workout in today anyway, so maybe a walk is just what I need."

February 7th; 1:32 PM
Lycus Dorm, University of Poseidonis, Atlantis

"I'm... gonna hang back." Virgil shrugged and nodded his head towards the door behind him. "Right wrongs and all that. You take care, Bjorn." He waved off his other roommate and sighed. He still didn't know what it was Karen was looking for, or why she needed it in the first place? Whatever it was seemed to have been relatively well hidden, meaning that Malcolm didn't want people seeing it.

Once Virgil had assured himself that Bjorn was out of sight, he knocked on the door and called through from the other side. "Hey, is it cool if I come in? Bjorn said he's heading out, but I just gotta say sorry for all this."

Whatever master plan Mal had been about to impart upon the blonde's pretty little noggin came to an abrupt halt as he registered the rattle of his bedroom door out of the corner of his eye, made silent by the device still mounted on the wall. The Kasimir ward instantly fell silent, leaning back onto his desk and hands folding neatly in front of him as his face took on a blank expression.

Idly, his eyes traveled down to his watch, where they lingered for a solid half-minute of increasingly tense silence before slowly knitting shut as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Five minutes..."

That low, growling whisper was barely audible over the sound of the biometric lock on his desk drawer disengaging and rolling out before the battle-scarred teen wordlessly stuck his free hand inside and fished out one of his old earpieces.

"We'll talk later." Malcolm stated flatly, reaching out and deftly dropping the thing into one of Karen's jacket pockets before she could get a word of protest in, though the glare he locked onto her right then and there probably would've done the job anyhow "But for now, you have some shopping to do, don't you?"

Though still as outwardly cold and collected as he'd been this entire time, the vast reserves of Mal's patience that had kept him (relatively) civil through this whole ordeal had very clearly just about run dry. The fact that the constant orange glow hidden away by his contact lenses had slowly begun to creep out back into plain sight, slowly snaking it's way up the blood-vessels in his eyes was only the most obvious clue.

Slowly folding his arms with a sense of calm and control that was beginning to look more and more forced as the seconds ticked by, the boy then casually gestured toward the door with his thumb.

"Go."

"Right, going!" said Karen quickly, turning to the door without hesitation and throwing it open. Virgil was on the other side, having apparently been quite eager to offer his own apologies. At least he was in the right frame of mind for the verbal lashing that was undoubtedly about to ensue.

Bjorn was also still in the hallway. Whether or not he would also be subject to her little brother's wrath was anyone's guess. That being said, she was suddenly grateful to now be in her position instead of theirs.

Nodding her goodbyes to the both of them as she passed, Karen started on her way back to the Asterion dorm, where she would inevitably face an even greater challenge: scandalous fashion.

Mal's eyes remained locked forward, still seemingly boring a hole straight through the wall where she'd been standing with the express intent of burning them and everything behind them for another three miles straight to the fucking ground. Even if the rest of his face remained entirely neutral the whole while.

After a long, dragging few seconds of silence the teen finally spoke, addressing his roommate still standing in the doorway without even looking up at him. His tone, though still outwardly calm, rapidly beginning to warp and twist into something far more malevolent.

It was sometimes easy to forget that, through all the jokes, laughter and banter, Malcolm was still a very angry young man, deep down inside. He just made a point of keeping it in check.

...Until someone pushed the right buttons, that is.

"Get in here. Close the door. Now."

february 7th 1:32PM

Lycus Hall,university of poseidonis, Atlantis

Anticipation welled inside of Virgil. There was an unstoppable feeling inside of him that would not let go. Just a minute of time out in the hall seemed like an eternity.

Even when the door behind him opened, the world slowed to a halt. Virgil fell back without any way to catch himself. Scrambling to his feet, he spun around and looked at Mal, smiling widely in an attempt to pacify Mal. Unfortunately, Bjorn was still around, so he couldn’t open the can all the way.

“Mal. Hey. Sorry. Really.” He bowed forward just a little, trying to keep things calm. “I’ve just been on edge, I wasn’t thinking straight when Karen busted in looking for something. I didn’t know if she was going to find you secret stash of.... well, man. Your stuff. I don’t know what gets you going and I don’t want Karen to know that either.”

Looking around, the scene of food filled his nose, Virgil was quick to find the bagels and give them you bjorn before shoving him away and locking the door behind him. “Mal, something is up. We all know it. I’m sorry, but I don’t know where Karen is in all this, but it ain’t right.”

The roar of a magitech engine filled the air. The pounding of explosions going off and shattering the powerful redwoods drowned out the screaming commands of police officers and the fearful weeping of his hostage.

Harris ran as fast as he could.

Yes, ran.

Dammitdammitdammitdammit.

Harris gasped as he sprinted as quickly as he could to get to the hostage-taker's location, blue explosions erupting on both sides of him as the bastard indiscriminately fired into the woods. Harris had to get there, now. He didn't want to think about what was going to happen to the hostage if he didn't get there soon enough. He pushed his body as hard as it could go, growing his leg muscles as much as he possibly could while moving each of his limbs with speed enough to burst a normal man's.

"Come on officers! Continue to resist for your old order! The new order comes to replace it! And that new order, is anarchy!" the jetpack-clad man roared hammily, firing off a series of wild blasts.

A massive redwood was felled by one of said blasts right in front of Harris' eyes. He barely had time to mourn it before it began falling right on top of him. He crouched before one could blink, and launched himself into the air with an uppercut, shattering the tree in two. Without a moment to stop, he sprouted a pair of wings and fired into the air like a torpedo.

Not fast enough! Dammit dammit dammit!

Harris' wings grew three times as his arm drew back into a fist. With one massive flap, he fired right at the man. His mouth opened for a second, only to be slammed shut be a green fist to the jaw.

That was too hard! Harris watched in horror as the man and his hostage were flung through the air. He immediately slashed through the air with his wings, again firing himself at the two of them. Fortunately both were alive, unfortunately, the man had recovered, and had turned his jetpack to flee. He was far faster than Harris, and Harris wasn't willing to risk getting any bigger.

Not after last time.

He quickly grew a tree beneath them, trying to send it skyward to stop the man in his tracks.

A subtle bubble appeared in the tree trunk as it grew.

Harris' breath went icy cold in his throat.

No.

He tried to dissolve the tree, he flapped towards it, he shot his fist after it, he did everything he could think of.

Nothing stopped it from erupting into a massive fireball.

Two shards of the trunk went skyward.

One took the man's jetpack off his back.

The other sawed his leg off.

"No!" Harris cried out, horrified.

The hostage was dropped in the aftermath, but she fell slower. He quickly grabbed her and dove after the kidnapper.

Harris gritted his teeth as he flattened his wings against his back. Something died inside him as he realized he wouldn't make it.

He had to resort to the worst option, it was the only one he had.

He held out his arm and generated a length of vine from it, trying to make it grow as fast as it would.

He wouldn't let the man die, he couldn't. He had to catch him, maybe if he made it elastic enough it would break his fall a little, he hoped he wouldn't break his neck. Oh god he hoped he wouldn't break his neck. The vine grew closer and Harris's mouth dropped open to let in as much air as possible; his stomach wouldn't calm down otherwise.

Then he noticed.

Just a tiny little bump in the vine's length as it left his arm.

A tiny bump that quickly grew to a large tumorous mass that consumed his hand.

Harris screamed.

"I've got you, just a little longer! Hold on!"

The vine grew, but so did the tumors.

He just needed time.

Just a few more seconds.

He could almost feel the man's leg.

A little closer...

Just-

Harris' arm popped.

In the instant before the blast consumed him, he let out one last desperate, screaming "No!"

The sky was filled with flame.

The hostage was consumed by the explosion.

The kidnapper struck the ground at over a hundred miles per hour, shattering his skull and pulping his brain.

Harris was reduced to a foot.

A scream filled the air. A horrible, crying, pleading scream.

Harris was certain it was coming from him.

”...I honestly haven’t really gone shopping like this before,” Karen muttered, rubbing her arm in apprehension. ”I grew up around Mal, who isn’t exactly the biggest fashionista, and before that I couldn’t really afford to shop in a place like this.”

Ophelia ran her hands over the racks of dresses, sliding through them with a surprising speed, dismissing each one almost instantly. Occasionally the cut or fabric of one would catch her eye and she would hold it up to Karen's body, seeming to consider it for a moment, before throwing back on the rack.

”I know what you mean…” she said absentmindedly, holding a dress against Karen's shoulders. ” I mean, I can assume, of course.” she corrected herself as she put the dress back on the rack. ”Consider me your guide through the tumultuous yet wonderful world of fashion and department stores.”

Ophelia had spent her recent years trying to erase any trace of her old self. Most days she rarely gave her past a thought. She’d become adept at changing the subject and changing her clothes alike. There were moments though, when she let her guard down, that slivers of the past would slip through the cracks, and her smile might falter for a moment. But those were only moments, and she’d been rather successful, so far, at keeping questions both from within and without, at bay.

”Thanks, I appreciate it,” said Karen, smiling. She was glad that at least one of her roommates had taken a liking to her—Hannah seemed to be rather skittish and out of place here, and while she wanted to reach out to her, it didn’t seem easy for the timid girl to make friends.

Honestly, though, who was she to talk? Right now her cheeks were positively glowing red as Ophelia continuously presented her with ever more racy outfits. She had never been one to push the whole “sex appeal” angle—though that hadn’t slowed Lady Arcana’s fanbase down at all. Or Clare, but nothing slowed her down.

Ophelia held up a black minidress with long sleeves and a flared skirt.

”So you and Malcolm kinda grew up together?” she asked, stopping to consider this dress longer than the others.

”Yeah, pretty much,” said Karen, eying the dress with an apprehensive smile. ”I mean, we had a lot in common, having grown up in the streets.”

Karen never really minded discussing her past, with one key exception, of course. She wasn’t ashamed of where she’d come from. There was nothing to be ashamed of—while The Wedge had its bad reputation, it was full of hard working people who all dreamed of a better life, somewhere deep down.

Ophelia paused for a moment. ”I didn't know that. Both of you? I can imagine how close you two might be.” she said.

Karen nodded. ”Yeah, though Mal honestly had it worse than I did.”

”Well…” she said slowly, “you're both wonderful from what I’ve seen, so I'm glad you are the people you are, however you came to be.”

She thrust the dress she’d been holding into Karen's hands. ”You have to try this one on. I bet your body will work wonders for it!”

Karen glanced down at the dress that had been forcibly shoved into her hands. A chill ran up her spine at the length—or lack thereof—of the dress. What would her mother have thought if she saw her wearing this now? What would Zoey think? ...Well, she already knew the answer to that one..

Swallowing the lump in her throat, Karen turned to disappear in the nearby dressing room. This department store was probably the place that most resembled the surface, even more so than their dorm rooms. There were plenty of non-Atlanteans here, and so she didn’t feel quite so out of place.

Still, the fact that she was about to step out wearing this left her struggling not to break out in a cold sweat. The fact that this was merely a prelude to wearing it at a party of all things was a thought she was still desperately trying to shove to the back of her mind.

Taking a deep breath, Karen pushed opened the door and stepped forward to be judged by Ophelia. ”So, um...how do I look?”

Ophelia looked up from her cellphone and raised an eyebrow, visibly impressed. ”Um. Fucking amazing? God, Karen, you’re giving me a new understanding of the term ‘lady wood’. It’s perfect.”

Karen scratched her cheek in embarrassment, staring off into the distance in the likely-futile hope that she wouldn’t look quite so flustered. She could feel the air against her exposed legs in a way that had never really been an issue as Lady Arcana. ”Um...thanks. I, uh...wonder how much it costs?”

Between everything that had happened with Mal earlier, and her own apprehensiveness at trying on such revealing outfits, she had completely forgotten to consider if she even had enough money on her to buy something like this.

Ophelia almost laughed, she’d forgotten that some people actually paid for things. It should be easy enough to steal without Karen or the store noticing. Not that she didn’t have enough money to pay for it if she wanted to, which might have been more simple, but where was the fun in that?

She smiled at Karen. ”Don’t worry your pretty little head over it, sweetie. Just go change back. I’ll take care of it for you, then we should grab a bite to eat after! My treat.”

”Right, okay,” said Karen, returning to the dressing room. Apparently, Ophelia had planned on paying for it the entire time. That was quite nice of her, though she always felt guilty when others bought things for her. Zoey had been the exception, mostly, since she was one of the wealthiest Billionaires on Earth.

”Hand me the dress over the door once you get out of it and I’ll go pay for it! I’m starving!” Ophelia said, walking over to lean against the dressing room door.

Neatly folding the dress after removing it, Karen handed it over to Ophelia as requested. Now once more wearing her old clothes, she immediately felt more secure stepping out of the dressing room. Ophelia was now over by the counter, apparently having already paid for the dress—she had just received a bag from the lady at the register.

As soon as Ophelia had touched the dress it was gone, vanished into her ‘Closet’. Walking over to the register and asking for a bag was only a courtesy, for sweet, innocent Karen’s sake. She turned around to see Karen walking out towards her, smiling, she closed the distance between them.

”What are you in the mood for? I wonder if we can get italian down here. I bet the shrimp fettuccine would be amazing.” She said, hooking her arm around Karen’s elbow as the headed out the door.

Karen blinked, glancing down at the arm that was now entwined with her own. Something was going on here—weren’t they going to that party? To investigate the drugs those guys were handing out? Then again, the party wasn’t till ten that night. She supposed they had to do something to pass the time until then.

Besides, ever since Mal had taken her out for Atlantean cuisine, she had become rather addicted to it. Although she felt a little strange with this deviation in their plans, there was just no way she could pass up an opportunity to stuff her face with some of Poseidonis’ finest delicacies. Did that make her a glutton, she wondered?

”They do something amazing to the lobster down here, I can’t even describe it!” said Karen, remembering the seafood (by the far the most common type of restaurant here) she and Mal had tried.

Ophelia hadn’t taken Karen out with the intention of making it a date, at least not consciously, but she couldn’t deny that their time together lent itself very easily to a date-like structure. Of course, Karen was a smokeshow, so it was easy enough to feel attracted to her, but she could also sense that the other girl seemed rather inexperienced and a little awkward when confronted with even hints of anything romantic or sexual. This was something Ophelia found adorable, but she didn’t want to make her feel uncomfortable, so she decided to keep her advances on the safe side.

Then again, Ophelia’s ‘safe’ could mean something very different to most other people.

”Name the place and we’re there, darling,” she said, giving Karen her most charming smile.

---

3:02 PM
Flipper Grill, Poseidonis

”You should definitely try the Snow Crab,” said Karen, having already set her menu on the table. She herself would be getting the cape lobster, her favorite so far. ”You’ve been down here for a couple of weeks—haven’t you tried any seafood yet?”

The booths at the restaurant were quite comfortable and plush, and the aroma of grilled shrimp, lobster, and crab permeated the air. It was guaranteed to wet your appetite even if you weren’t particularly hungry before.

Ophelia had barely opened her menu before Karen made her suggestion, and at that, promptly shut it.

”Snow crab it is then!” She set her menu down on the table then leaned her chin on the back of her hand, elbow on the menu. ”I’ve been out a few times, but I’ve never been to Atlantis before, so I haven’t been to a place like this before. You’ve been to the city before, right?”

Karen resisted the urge to correct her—the city was called Poseidonis, it was the civilization that was called Atlantis. ”Several times with Mal, yes. He took me around to all the best restaurants while I was getting used to being—”

Karen paused. She’d almost said a little too much, again. That was getting embarrassing.

”...Used to being so far underwater. It was really hard on me at first,” said Karen, smiling awkwardly.

Ophelia caught the pause, noticing Karen’s hesitation but not giving it too much thought. She took a sip of her water from the straw, leaving behind a red lipstick stain on the clear plastic.

”Then you’ll have to be my guide,” she said, winking. ”We’ll take turns taking each other out on the town and wining and dining.”

Karen chewed on the side of her lip for a moment, now feeling quite certain that Ophelia considered them to be on a date. Now that she thought about it, it kind of made sense—back at their dorm, she’d mentioned “owing her a dance”. It made Karen feel just a little guilty, as she had mainly agreed to accompany her in order to get to the bottom of this weird college drug ring that was apparently going on.

”Sure, just remember: I don’t drink!” Karen reminded her. That was probably weird for a college kid, but she had her reasons.

Ophelia’s jaw dropped. “You don’t drink? Why not? What do you even do for fun?”

Ophelia realized, when she took the time to, that she might have the beginnings of a mild alcohol problem herself. But it wasn’t a real issue, at least, no one would think it was because she was young and pretty and charismatic, and not old and decrepit and nasty. She was never told she should slow down, or take a break, she was handed another drink instead. There was a part of her that almost felt sad, but that was only a part, and it was only almost.

”Oh, you know...eating good food. Sparring with Mal. Just...seeing the sights? Lots of things, I guess,” said Karen, shrugging. She had always managed to find ways of amusing herself, perhaps because her free time could often be sparse. When you were a superhero, you didn’t tend to waste time stressing over what you couldn’t do.

Besides, nobody wanted to see what a drunk Lady Arcana looked like, right? The very idea of the property damage that would result from that was enough to chill her blood.

Ophelia shrugged. ”You’ll have at least one drink with me though? Even just a glass of wine?”

Karen quirked her brow at the other girl, but offered her a sympathetic smile. ”I guess one drink wouldn’t hurt—but that’s it, alright?”

---

10:33 PM
Club Blu

It was loud.

Louder than almost any other place Karen had ever been before—and she’d fought her way through alien battlefields. The flashing lights were honestly making her a little nauseous. It made her wonder how Ophelia found this fun.

She was wearing her new dress, and so was feeling quite awkward. Whether or not anyone was staring at her, however, was a bit of a mystery because of the disorienting environment she now found herself in. She could already see some very suspicious clouds of smoke drifting overhead, which certainly added to the unique atmosphere of the place.

Karen had also remembered that she didn’t really know how to dance, either. Not club-style, at least. As of now she was basically just doing “The Sheperd”, for a lack of any better dance moves.

Ophelia looked like she couldn’t be more in her element. After an hour or so spent getting ready, she’d finally decided on a Saint Laurent black minidress with one huge ruffled sleeve. The shoes on her feet, her earrings, and necklace were all gold with pearl detailing, and somehow, despite the extravagance of her outfit, she couldn’t have seemed more comfortable. Around her flocked other club-goers, who all seemed to know her, or at least want to.

Ophelia pulled Karen to her side, introducing her to the people around her without using any of their names. This was probably because she didn’t actually know any of them. Also probably because the music was so loud even if she had known them Karen probably wouldn’t have heard them.

“The gentlemen in the suit, the Dior suit, not the Dolce and Gabbana, invited us up to his VIP booth,” she shouted over the music.

One of the people around the girls handed Ophelia two glasses of something pink, and presumably alcoholic. Ophelia handed one glass to Karen, and held the other up for a toast before bringing it to her lips.

“Let’s go!” she said, pulling Karen away from the crowd and towards a glass spiral staircase in pursuit of the man.

While Karen toasted Ophelia, she wasn’t about to take a drink of that janky-looking pepto bismol. She didn’t see it being poured, and so there was no telling what they might’ve slipped into it. Still, she didn’t want to be rude by pouring it out—she might be able to test a sample of it in a bit.

”Some kinda grain alcohol mixed with milk. Not from a cow, either.” A familiar voice helpfully whispered into Karen’s ear ”Probably not what we’re after.”

”I’ll warn you, I only know how to do dorky K-Pop dancing,” said Karen, glancing around at the other clubbers.

Ophelia laughed as they climbed the stairs. ”Oh, we aren’t dancing, the VIP area is mainly for bottle service and whatnot.”

The VIP area was only a little quieter than the main floor, and played music a bit more tame. There was a separate bar area, and many different seating areas with plush couches and low tables. On one side there was a glass wall that overlooked the lower level’s dance floor.

They walked over to one of the seating areas closer to the glass wall. Ophelia sat them down in the center of the couch. Three other men took up the other chairs, two on the opposite couch and one on the chair. One of the men on the couch began pouring drinks for the group from a bottle out of the bucket of ice at the center of the table. The man on the chair lit a cigarette for himself, but handed it to Ophelia as she held out her hand for it.

”What did you say your names were again?” Ophelia asked.

“Hernando, Alejandro, and Alfonso,” the man said, lighting another cigarette, pointing to each of the men as he introduced them.

The second man, Alejandro handed everyone their drinks.

”Oh, thank god, this pink thing I was handed is honestly horrendous,” she said, grabbing the new drink and setting the old one on the glass tabletop. ”I might has well been drinking nail polish remover and perfume. It’s wonderful to meet you all, by the way. Forgive me if we’ve met before, I’m terrible with names! This is my darling… friend, Karen.”

Karen glanced around at the three men, doing her best not to crinkle her nose. They were Spaniards, that much was obvious. Perhaps it was partially due to having been raised by a Mexican-American father who loathed the Spanish, but something about these guys seemed off. She knew that way of thinking wasn’t right, though. Besides, it was probably just their overzealous amount of cologne.

Still, despite her apprehension, she accepted the offer glass—though she still didn’t have any intention of drinking anything they gave her. She was just collecting samples. Leaning in to whisper to Ophelia, she waited until the men were distracted. ”Ophelia, don’t drink any of it, alright?”

Ophelia had just taken a rather substantial swig of her drink as Karen whispered this to her.
”Oh, fer…” Came that familiar voice in Karen’s ear once more… followed by a distinctive ‘Whap!’ that could only be generated by some particularly aggrivated facepalming.

”Well, now it’s too late, and I might as well just finish the drink.”

She took another couple swigs and set the glass down all with surprising grace. Ophelia had never been one for caution, she liked the saying ‘fortune favors the brave’. Not because she necessarily believed it, more because it let her act recklessly without feeling like she was being outright reckless. She at least liked to think that if nothing else, it was endearing. One could be as crazy or nonsensical as they liked as long as they were pretty and rich enough. Ophelia was.

Her glass was refilled almost as quickly as she had set it down, and placed back into her hands.

”I’ve already had one, she said with a cute shrug, ”One more couldn’t do much more damage, could it?”

Karen’s jaw dropped.

”Yes! Yes it could!” she hissed, her eyes darting over to the guys. They hadn’t glanced back over towards them just yet. ”If sketchiness had a smell, it’d be named Alejandro!”

Ophelia didn’t seem to be taking this threat seriously at all. Had she ever? Now that she thought back to their discussion at the dorm, her roomie had never really seemed particularly distressed about the possibility of having been drugged. That was a very strange way for a young girl alone in a strange place to act.

Where did all this carefree confidence come from?

”Karen, sweetie, live a little.”

Ophelia took a drink from her new cup, then took a drag off her cigarette.

”Anyway, I’m bored of this place. Let’s see if there’s somewhere that’s a little more fun.” She turned to the men, who were talking amongst themselves. “Excuse me, gentlemen, this venue really isn’t my cup of tea. Is there anywhere a little more exclusive we could go?”

Hernando smiled. “Of course, we were just talking about that. Alejandro here has a friend with a penthouse who’s throwing a party there. We were planning on heading there a little later but we could go now if you’d like.”

”I’m sure we’d love that. Just let me finish my drink.” She said with a smile, raising her glass to him, then to her lips again.

Karen narrowed her eyes at the lot of them for a brief moment, before easing back in her seat and away from Ophelia. Raising a hand to seemingly brush her ear, she whispered, ”They’re about to take us to some sort of penthouse.”

---

With a slight grunt, Mal rose from his perch on the far-side of the roof, carefully tip-toeing around the small pile of soda cans and gyro wrappings that had accumulated at his feet in the two hours or so he’d been there before Karen and Ophelia had even arrived as he shook some of the pins and needles from his legs.

He’d never say it out loud, but these long stakeouts weren’t exactly the light of his crime-fighting career.

The fact that he hadn’t worn this particular get-up in nearly a year and it was riding just a little uncomfortably in equally uncomfortable parts of his anatomy wasn’t exactly helping matters either.

All things considered, par for the course for today.

A low growl rattled in his throat as he snapped down his visor. He’d have to fix that tomorrow.

...As well as many… other things in his life, if today had proved anything.

”Right behind you.”

11:10 PM
The Domed City of Atlantis

He missed this.

It was a minor spat with Mal after he, Karen, and Bjorn went through Malcolm's things, but one that made things clear on what Mal wanted Virgil to know. Unfortunately, Mal should have known better. Virgil was on a trail, and this sort of behavior from both Mal and Karen was enough to let him know that something indeed was going on.

And of course, a new venue meant a new suit. He still worse the large, sleeveless cloak from his other costume, but this one was geared a little more towards crime fighting. Wrist bracers, padded gloves, leg padding hidden underneath his pants. It was a step up from his literal costume, but he might still go back to that if this one didn't work out.

"Look, Static, I don't know what you expect me to do." He could hear Richie's voice on the other end of his headset. "You're in the middle of the ocean and twenty thousand leagues under the sea, and my parents are starting to get weird about me dropping off every night to hero it up."

It was a bit of an issue, Virgil was going to admit, but just hearing his friend's voice brought Virgil a little peace.

Living in a domed city made it a little difficult to fly around. He needed to be careful of who saw him. Virgil wasn't quite familiar with the vigilante laws down here in Atlantis, but he was almost sure they were the same like back at home. If he played it wrong, this could result in him losing his spot at the school.

"There's something going on. You remember ol Watchdog, right? When that Kasamir kid got kidnapped by Shade? He's down here, so something has to be up."