Leo gave out a loud, drawn-out yawn. Man, last night was tiring. Defintely going to prepare better next time he raids some criminal HQ. Didn't get back to the motel until 2:30. Got plenty of donations, though, so at least the fans were happy. The Hornet's Nest arrow proved pretty effective as well, if indifferent to it's intended target. What's that saying about who a grenade is being addressed to?

Well, either way, he's only slept 2 hours. Had to catch the first train to Central to avoid large crowds. Less people meant less of a chance of losing or accidentally spilling and displaying his Arsenal equipment he'd packed. He could sleep when he booked a motel in Central.

Actually, the train's going to be a bit until it arrives maybe he can just take a quick nap...

"In other news, a massive explosion appeared today in downtown Keystone, at about 1:30AM."

Oh, look. The news caught up with him. Leo opened his eyes and watched the TV screen positioned above the doors of the train, listening to the anchor of WKEY-TV News.

"The explosion occured at a local rented office space pictured onscreen. It was on the 35th floor, rented by an anonymous organization. The explosion covered the main reception room of that gloor, as well as partially destroying the floor above it. In the aftermath, firefighters uncovered many wounded men, some killed in the explosion. They also uncovered both remains and partially intact forms of various military grade weapons and ammunition. It appeared that this organization was subtley smuggling guns and other weapons to sell on underground markets."

Another score for the good guys, bad guys nil.

The picture besides the man's head, having shifted from the building and the guns, now changes to a picture of Arsenal himself.

"The police have not given a formal statement regarding the cause, but various online sources state that Vigilante and Social Media star, Arsenal, was behind the assault. Some sites have clips of the masked archer storming his way through an office building, but the police have neither confirmed nor denied his involvement. Evidence suggests otherwise, however, as one of our contacts inform us that many of the injured sport arrow wounds. We'll have more for you after the break, so stay tuned."

Leo smiles and checks his phone, happy at the amount of new followers his social media accounts are getting due to last night's events. He updates his status.

"Just saw my beautiful self broadcast on WKEY-TV. They should've gotten a picture that shows off my good side lmao"

Aaaand sent. That should help. And now for some much needed rest...

"Have you ever heard the stories of Atlantis?"

Leo can't help but open his eyes and pay attention. He forgets that the mythical city of Atlantis is actually a thing from time-to-time.

"In most tales, Atlantis is seen as an academical powerhouse, said to be housing the greatest minds man has ever seen. And to be honest, the stories are true. Here at the University of Poseidonis, you can see for yourself. Here, we accept the best and brightest from around the globe. Even if you're not the fastest fish in the sea, we also cater to those wishing to improve."

Leo stares in silence at the advertisement as it shows pictures of the school grounds, students relaxing and studying, and professors mid-lecture.

"If you seek higher learning, then come apply to Poseidonis. Atlantis awaits!"

As the commercial ends and another begins, Leo sits in own thoughts. College. Before all this, it's what he'd wanted most to do. Go to College, earn a few degrees, make his parents proud as he became a great scolar, or Scientist, or even an Astronaut as his younger self had thought a few times.

But then a completely random mugging ripped his dreams in half.

He was so struck with grief, he forsake his scolarships and ran off to the army, to vent his feelings. After they made him a highly-effective tool of combat, he came back and became... this. Some punk in a mask who thinks he can make a difference. But has he?

What would things be like if he'd just... moved on, unfazed by his parents' death, and went to college? Would things be any different?

What would his parents think if they saw him now?

... No, No. This is just the lack of sleep making his brain second-guess himself. Of course he's making a difference. Less criminals on the street means less crime. Star City is a prime example of that. He's the face of underdog heroes everywhere. People look up to him to stop crime, because nobody else can or will. His parents would be proud that their legacy lives on as a motive for justice.

Shut up, brain. You're tired. Go to sleep.

An excellent idea. Leo rests his head back on his seat, getting into a comfortable position, before slowly closing his eyes...

"Now approaching Central City Station. Please remain where you are until the train has come to a full stop."

Leo opens his eyes.

Ffff-fuck me.

’The more things change the more they stay the same…’ Mal couldn’t help but muse in the confines of his own head, even while rolling to make his landing on yet another industrialized-coral rooftop.

Different city, different continent, hell, even different barometric pressure and here he was jumping from rooftop in some swanky-ass armour like a complete jackass.

If nothing else, Mal’s life was consistent.

A quick glance below through the building found Mal skidding slightly and taking a hard left, vaulting off another ledge and landing with practiced quiet on top of one of Poseidonis’ many public hover-trams. Lingering there for a moment or two as it rounded a turn and firing off his grapple towards another rooftop to keep up with his quarry, both of whom were currently sharing oxygen with the three Spanish gentlemen he’d observed in the club in the confines of a hovercar he couldn’t miss, even if he wanted to- What with the pulsing music from within forming a sort of rippling effect across his vision and what registered to even his eyes as a particularly gaudy bioluminescent paintjob.

Another grunt escaped him as he made landfall on what he could only assume would be his final destination if everything went according to plan.

...Mostly because this armour, paradoxically ancient in design but so far ahead of anything on the surface that it flew straight into the territory of science fiction… was really riding up on him in uncomfortable places.

Apparently he’d grown up a bit over the past year.

Puberty truly was a cruel and fickle mistress.

Pushing that thought to the far rear of his mind, the armour-clad teen allowed himself to relax and take an (admittedly, slightly awkward) crouch as the object of his pursuit parked itself at the foot of a towering, chrome-coloured skyscraper across the street. Taking advantage of his eyesight to stay out of theirs, camping out on the far side of the roof to observe them all directly through the building itself.

A finger rose to the side of his helmet, a quiet chirp echoed within as he did so.

”Alright, Karen. In position.”

The air behind Malcolm shimmered and warped as a figure phased into view. Malcolm, of course, would have most likely seen the figure coming, as invisibility and cloaking technology could only go so far when dealing with someone who could see into the fabric of the universe.

The man, clad in black-plated, form-fitting armor strode up beside the crouching teen and crossed his arms.

”So, doing some late-night hunting?” The distorted voice asked from behind the demonic octopus mask. He crouched down and activated the cloaking field again, his armor plates fading to the color of the rooftop and taking on a pockmarked coral appearance as he did so.

”It’s good to have the watch-shark back in the city, Mako.” Cuttlefish quipped, reaching over and clasping the younger man on the shoulder. ”But I am curious about the visit. I’d have thought you would be busy with your studies? What are we doing out here?”

”Ori?” Mal asked aloud through his voice-modulator as his head turned slightly to face the much taller man at his side… and the claws along his armoured fists quietly sheathed themselves before he raised a hand and gave his surrogate uncle’s a little pat and squeeze on his shoulder, posture relaxing slightly for the first time in hours. ”Yeah, sorry about that. Would’ve called, but it’s been a helluva day.”

Releasing the Ocean-King’s hand, Mal’s head slowly turned forward again as he kept talking. A slight note of humour making it’s way through the distortion of his voice-modulator.

”Long story short; Karen thinks she might’ve stumbled upon some kinda drug ring. Or her roommate did at a party last night, anyway.” ‘Mako’ stated plainly, shifting a little to at least find some comfort where he was sitting. ”So we’re giving it a look... and trying to be quiet about it.”

The teen’s head turned slightly again towards the Octo-Masked King, though his eyes stayed rooted forward.

”-Rather not spook them and drive them further underground thinking there’s a mob of capes and tights after them.”

The eyes of the disguised King of Atlantis narrowed behind his mask as he looked down at the moving hovercar that presumably contained Karen and her roommate.

”A drug ring… This would be Ophelia, not Hannah, I assume?” Orin asked, hazarding a guess. ”I made it my business to familiarize myself with the applications of our surface students, it seemed prudent. Just like your plan, a daring nighttime sting operation into the suspected heart of a drug-running ring. You do have a flair for the dramatic, Mako.” He said, a grin creeping into his voice.

”Fortunately, I am a sucker for a good cop show.” Orin admitted, standing up. The suit’s reflexive camo shifted to hide his silhouette against the domed sky, and Orin scanned his eyes along the street. ”Would you mind another partner to watch your back? I’ve been cooped up for awhile now and I’d like to stretch my legs a bit.”

Beneath his mask, Malcolm couldn’t help but grin a little himself.

”Hey it’s your city, Uncle Ori.”

”Hey now, I’m undercover. Call me Cuttlefish.”

”...Wait, what?”

---

With their eyes fixed to the ground below, it would almost be hard to see the small purple blur that made its war across the night sky. Static Shock was making his own rounds around the city, doing things like he used to do before even Gear was apart of the team.

The shock box had been put away for now. He’d come back to Richie is he came across anything, but right now he was just looking for some trouble. Cars, people, everything blurred around him, but was made easier with the new glasses he wore. Easier on his eyes and better for when he was casting lightning out of his fingertips.

“Come on, come on. I know you’re out there somewhere…” Static muttered to himself, his eyes keen on finding danger. A hand dug into his pocket to fish out his shock box once more. Opening it up, he flipped through a few settings and pulled out a long antenna.

His hope was to find any possible roaming signals and catch them. Maybe it would be the criminals he was having a feeling for, maybe it would be something else. Whatever it was Mal was being so tight lipped about had to be happening somewhere in the streets, and Virgil was going to be damned if he didn’t have a piece of it.

But then it happened.

On one of the rooftops was an armored figure. Virgil slowed to a halt hockey-style and put the Shock Box away once more. In its place was a set of binoculars. They weren’t glamorous, but they got the job done.

Virgil slowly backed away. Not only did they look like serious business, but they were simply watching the city. They were looking for something too. This was the trail that Virgil was looking for.

He mulled the possibility of swooping in now and taking them on, but if he followed them to wherever they were going, he’d progress a lot easier than if he fought them. He’d simply have to follow them and see where they were going.

Arsenal sat on top of an AC unit, as he overlooked the city from the rooftops. He'd decided to stay in this major capital for a few days, hoping to catch a glimpse of one of the greats: Velocity. One of the original costumed heroes. He'd been starting his streams earlier each day to have a chance of seeing the OG in action, but no such luck. And with the city having such a low crime rate, he was stuck with the petty crime. His fans were getting bored, and so was he.

At the moment, he was currently in the middle of a Q/A session with his stream, looking at questions his fans sent in from his phone.

"How do I come up with my arrows? Uhhh... It sorta just comes to me. Sometimes, I think, 'What could I have used in the last fight?' And sorta go from there. I'm pretty smart, I guess."

As he scrolled through the questions, his mind started to wander a bit. He sorta expected meeting all these cool people on the tour, and he has (LB is proof of that), but he was kind of expecting to meet actual heroes. Maybe glean some advice off them, or bond over the same goals and hopefully not go to jail. So far, he's just met fans. And that's cool, just...

He snapped back to reality.

"Oh, right, um, next question..."

11:15 PM
Aquarius Apartments, Bazaar Quarter, Poseidonis

Karen hadn’t had a very pleasant car ride from the club. Being trapped in that car with a group of strange men eying up the two of them was probably one of the most unpleasant experiences in her life that didn’t involve fighting demons from the outerdark. More than once had one placed his hand on her thigh, which she had calmly moved. She was probably the only one there that hadn’t really gotten tipsy.

The music was also obnoxiously loud, and hurt her ears. Did that make her milktoast? Maybe she needed to try lightening up...but then, these were the guys trying to drug girls from the surface.

Allegedly, anyhow.

Thankfully, they had arrived at their destination--what looked like a fairly luxurious apartment complex. As if it were straight out of some sort of science fiction movie, the hovercar descended to the pavement before the door slid open. Piling out one after the other, the men offered a hand to both of the girls.

Karen didn’t accept as she climbed out.

Ophelia accepted the help as she was offered, stepping out and pausing at Karen’s side.

”That had to be the trashiest hover-car I’ve ever ridden in, God. They might as well have dragged us in an inner-tube behind a station wagon.” She whispered.

Ophelia hadn’t necessarily ridden in an abundance of hover-cars, but recognized a rice burner when she saw it. She had begun to get bored with the men after they stopped giving her alcohol. She started walking towards the penthouse, hooked at the elbow with Karen, without waiting for the men. They walked past the doorman without a word and towards the elevator. The men were just entering the building and caught a glimpse of Ophelia giving them a cheeky wave as the elevator doors closed.

”God, what a drag. There’s only so many times a man can look me up and down before I’m gonna have to start charging.”

Karen breathed a heavy sigh of relief now that they had escaped from the creepy guys, even if it was likely only temporary. Glancing over to Ophelia, she pursed her lips. ”How do you tolerate hanging with people like that?”

She’d faced literal-fucking-ogres with better manners. Still, she wasn’t here to enjoy herself. Not really—there were lives at stake. If she didn’t do something to stop this, some poor girl could literally have her future destroyed. Maybe several.

Ophelia shrugged. ”I get what I need from them, then I leave.”

She hadn’t really thought on it a lot. Most of the time she wasn’t particularly fond of the company she kept. She was fond of the attention she got, and the things she could get out of them, but they weren’t the type of crowd she’d like to be seen with during daylight hours. She was accustomed to having to deal with much more unsavory characters in order to get what she wanted, especially considering her line of work, so a few men with over inflated egos and cheap shoes weren’t particularly strenuous.

She pressed the button to be buzzed in to the penthouse.

”Herod, darling? It’s Ophelia, we met the other night!” she said, her voice bright and bubbly.

The button lit up and the elevator started moving upwards.

Karen felt her stomach lurch slightly as the elevator began to ascend. Taking a deep breath, she tried her best to smooth out the wrinkles in her dress. Herod, she’d called him. That was a Greek name, and that usually meant…

”Is your friend Herod an Atlantean?” she asked. ”I’ll be honest, I didn’t expect there to be any here.”

She had assumed this was a drug ring ran entirely by surfacers taking advantage of naive college girls who felt out of place in their new, strange environment. Why would there be Atlanteans here, though, if that was the case? What exactly was going on?

”I’d assume so. We didn’t have a conversation about it, but just looking at him kinda gives you that vibe.” Ophelia said, the brightness her voice had a moment ago gone. ”God, I need some more alcohol. Could this damn elevator go any slower?”

Karen, though she didn’t like drinking, wouldn’t honestly mind having a glass of wine herself at this moment. She was...nervous. She’d never been to a party like this before, especially not dressed this way. Her palms felt sweaty, as did her brow. When the elevator slid open, she stood almost straight at attention and raised her hand in greeting to the tall Atlantean.

”Oh Karen, I’m hi!” she said with an awkward grin. ”Err, I mean...”

”This is my friend Karen. It's so nice to see you again, I had such a lovely time the other night,” Ophelia said, her demeanour bright again, like she’d flicked a switch and turned a light on with her personality.

Herod was a tall man, similar in stature to the Atlantean king, he held himself stoically, there was an appropriate modesty in his posture. His hands were clasped behind his back. The suit he wore was well-tailored, and of quality material, but Ophelia didn't recognize a brand.

Herod smiled down at the girls, his eyes were dark, but not alarming. “Come in, come in. To be honest, I didn't expect anyone so soon, there's hardly anyone here yet,” He said with a chuckle. “I'm happy to see you back, you left so suddenly last night.”

Ophelia offered a sweet smile. “My carriage was turning into a pumpkin, and I hadn't any time to waste.”

He lead the girls inside the mostly empty penthouse, pausing every now and again to tell them about some piece of art he had hung up on his walls. The penthouse itself was a sight to behold, with high ceilings and sleek lines. The majority of the main floor had been converted into a glass dance floor, but they only saw it for a moment before they headed upstairs. The second floor was a mostly wide open space, even the master bedroom was mostly open, only separated by artsy slats. They walked past a plush seating area and over to a bar and dining room, Herod took up post as a bartend as the girls sat down at the stools.

“What's your poison?” He asked, grabbing them all glasses.

Karen had followed behind Ophelia in silence, both grateful and impressed with her ability to so casually chat up the handsomely imposing figure who had greeted them. It was quite obvious now that he was an Atlantean, and unlike the men they had met at the nightclub, he didn’t appear to be sleazy in the least. In fact, he looked so clean it was a bit surprising that he would be in a place like this. He just didn’t seem like the partying type.

”Red wine, please…something sweet,” replied Karen, smiling up at Herod. In truth, it was the only alcohol she could really stand. Most of the rest tasted like piss to her. Ordering some kind of drink was necessary if she wanted them to try and drug her, however.

Glancing about the room, it was almost eerie how vacant it was. They must have really been early. Would that make them hesitant to try anything, knowing that there would surely be other guests arriving later?

”When does the actual party here start?” Karen whispered to Ophelia.

“And for you, Ophelia?”

”I’ll have the same.”

Herod grabbed a bottle from the wine rack hung on the wall behind him, and turned back to face the girls. Before Ophelia could answer Karen, Herod began speaking.

“This is a Screaming Eagle Cabernet, from California. You both are from the surface, perhaps you’ve been there?” he said, opening the bottle. He began to pour.

“And to answer your question, people should start arriving around one thirty, but ?it won’t be a party till around two thirty or three.” He passed them their glasses. “I have to say I was surprised when you showed up so early, how has your evening been?”

As soon as he had finished the doorbell rang again, the spanish men had caught up with them.

“I guess you aren’t the only early ones. Excuse me ladies.”

Ophelia watched Herod’s back as he walked across the floor till he disappeared down the stairs, sipping on her wine glass. She glanced over at Karen and giggled.

”Not bad, hm?”

Karen frowned when she saw the sleaze-brigade enter the penthouse, easing back in her seat. ”No, but it isn’t exactly good, either.”

Something about those men really rubbed her the wrong way. Herod seemed nice enough, but his uncanny hearing was disturbing. Did Atlanteans normally have superior hearing to humans? Maybe it was just him. While Ophelia seemed to be enjoying herself, Karen just couldn’t relax—she’d seen girls be drugged at parties before. She knew the horrible consequences it had on their lives. She wasn’t about to chance that happening to anyone while she was on campus.

”Listen,” whispered Karen, making sure that Herod was out of sight, ”If anything goes down, you need to hide. There’s no telling how they might react to having their operations exposed.”

”Don’t worry about me, honey, I’m a big girl.”

Ophelia gave Karen an overtly flirty wink. Whether or not these guys had any secret motives to to their party-hosting hadn’t really entertained much thought in Ophelia’s mind. If it took a drug-ring or whatever Karen thought was going on to get the girl out of the dang dorm then so be it. Ophelia was just here to have fun, not meddle with someone’s (albeit illegal) business ventures.

Karen did her best not to blush at the gesture, instead focusing on her cellphone’s clock. Minute by minute she watched as the hours passed them by, very casually drinking with Ophelia to pass the time. She was terribly grateful when more guests arrived, simply because she didn’t feel comfortable with the two of them being alone with so many guys.

While there were a few that had arrived in a slow trickle, ultimately, the main deluge of guests began flooding in at around two in the morning. By two-thirty, the party was in full swing and Karen could once more barely hear herself think for all the laughter and drunken banter cascading off the walls.

Needing to take a break from the increasing claustrophobic environment, Karen had suggested stepping out onto the balcony. The naked air was a refreshing contrast to the smell of booze inside—it had reminded her just a little too much of home. With her back turned to the city, she had a nice view of the partygoers, anyhow.

”This place really picked up, huh?” said Karen, leaning back on the railing. ”This is probably when they’ll try something, I imagine. There’s lots of girls for them to choose from now.”

”God, Karen, lighten up. I get you only came out to investigate whatever, but I really doubt anything that horrible is going on. People give other people drugs at parties. It’s like you’ve never had someone snort coke off your ass or something. You don’t need to tell me, I know you haven’t.” Ophelia said, leaning her elbows on the railing, facing out towards the city.

She was drunk at this point, she’d admit that. Not completely wasted, she had enough experience to pace herself enough so she could last at least till around five or six in the morning. Surprisingly enough, she had seen a few faces she recognized. A few people she’d seen at the parties of some of the less reputable company she happened to keep had caught her eye, though they probably wouldn’t recognize her. She kept her face hidden in those types of crowds.

It did intrigue her though, or it would have, if she’d not been drunk.

”I just want to see you enjoy yourself. I’m glad you came out with me, I’ve been meaning to get some time with you. Cigarette?” Ophelia held out a cigarette to Karen, placing one in her own mouth.

Karen honestly felt bad now. She had been so focused on “business” that she hadn’t really paid that much attention to Ophelia. The other girl had only wanted to have a fun night out with her, and she’d been a total stick in the mud. While she was trying to protect the other girls on campus, she supposed it wouldn’t hurt to live it up a little bit.

”Alright—snort what off of what?” Karen gasped, only just realizing what Ophelia had said earlier. Now she really needed that smoke. Accepting the offered cigarette, she snapped her fingers to spark a light at the end.

Ophelia covered her mouth with her hand and snickered. ”Oh, I’ve said too much!” She grabbed Karen’s arm with urgency, holding back more laughter. ”Karen, you have to swear to me you’ll never ever hold me accountabable- accountable for anything I say when I’m drunk. It wouldn’t be fair. It wouldn’t be right!”

Blowing into the cigarette, it was quickly made apparent that she’d never smoked before as she began to sputter and cough uncontrollably. Glancing to Ophelia with a sheepish smile, she straightened her posture. ”Good shit, huh?”

Ophelia laughed, throwing her head back. “You’re an absolute doll, did you know that? You’re gonna make me melt.”

She paused and took a drag off her cigarette. The city was really beautiful. Atlanteans really knew their shit when it came to architecture. Or anything else really. I guess they’d have to to build an entire civilization underwater. She couldn’t help but feel incredibly lucky to be here. Even a few years ago she would have never imagined herself here. A few years ago she probably wouldn’t have been able to imagine herself.

Karen felt her cheeks reddening again. She decided against taking another drag from her own cigarette, not wishing to embarrass herself any further. Still, this was nice. It was (relatively) quiet out here, and the headache that was starting to build at her temples had mostly subsided. Maybe she had been reading too much into things. Maybe they were just some kind of weird vitamins, and she was blowing it all out of proportion.

It wouldn’t be the first time. Being a superhero skewed your perception of everything. You started seeing plots and conspiracies in even the most mundane of things. Sure, those guys had looked kind of scummy, but that didn’t mean they were rapists or anything.

She needed to relax. She needed to stop being a buzzkill.

Pushing off the railing, she smiled again to Ophelia, offering her a hand. ”Hey, I promised you a dance, didn’t I? How about it? The party’s about as hot as it’ll get tonight.”

Ophelia raised an eyebrow, but accepted the hand. The cigarette fell over the balcony railing as she dropped it.

”You wait till I’m drunk to ask me to dance?”

Ophelia wasn’t a fool, even if she was a reckless, drunk socialite trying to hide a double life in a school full of people with mystical or mysterious powers. She knew Karen was probably being friendly, and that was fine, and appreciated, but she couldn’t help her inebriated mind from wondering if maybe the other girl wasn’t just being friendly. Or maybe that was hope.

”The joke’s on you, my dancing only gets better as I get drunker.”

David rubbed his temples with a wince, fighting off the nasty headache he'd had all day. He didn't know what it was, something in the back of his head just felt like it was clawing through his brain, trying to force its way out... Not in the usual way, like with Hood, this felt far worse. Something wasn't right... Not that there ever was, but this time he knew he couldn't outwill or outwit or outshoot the problem.
22
He knocked back another shot to try and shake it off, but he still heard it, this high pitched noise... He couldn't hear Hood. It was almost like he couldn't hear himself either. No, all he could hear was other voices that he couldn't put names too... Could it be a psychic attack of some sort? No, that wasn't right... Why would a psychic go after him? He didn't know anything important someone would want to know and he sure as shit hadn't crossed a psychic while dishing out his crazy brand of justice.
37
But then why did it feel like his head was two sizes too large and tearing at the seams?
9
He wasn't sure if he was inside his own head anymore. It felt like he was reliving his own memories but looking at them, really looking at them, from an outside perspective. Like he was scanning them over for something of importance. What did going to a club have to do with anything important? He wasn't sure. There probably wasn't anything.
3
In fact, this whole headache was probably nothing. Just needless paranoia. He probably couldn't hear Hood because the bastard decided to take a break for once. The other voices though? Maybe the crowd really was just too loud for him to think. At least, that's what he told himself. God, he needed to stop drinking. That must be it, he's just getting too loaded and it's starting to fuck with his head.
8
But when the lights went out not long after, he realized that that feeling in his gut did mean something. Something told him this isn't what he was wary about. He listened closely, filtering out the blaring techno music...
5
Shouting.
18
Screams.
31
He pulled out his pistol and prepared to find out what was goi


Everything hurts.

What time is it? What year is it? I think it's 2033.

So much.

Where am I? Where's 299? I don't know anymore.

So very much.

Where are you Faruq? I'm scared. David is dead, or is he? Is he really who he said he was?

Who is 313? I'm not him. The only me is me. But how do I know that's not a lie?

Suffering
David blinked his eyes open, fog clinging to him as he tried to pick up the fractured pieces of his mind. He attempted to raise a hand to scratch off some dried blood on the right side of his jaw, but after a moment of wiggling them around in a vain attempt to get free, he noticed his hands were bound to a chair.
he can't feel anything
A voice rose from the darkness of the room. "... He's awake."

"W-wha... Who... Who are... Y-you...?" he croaked out.

"What is your name, 313?"

"Get... Ou... Out of... My... Head!"
only the pain
The voice ignored him. "Where are you from?"

"You can... Ki... Kiss my a-" He felt an overwhelming pain, cutting off his curse with a shout of pain.

The voice continued as he began to fade back into unconsciousness, "313. Your name is David John O'Rinn. You were born in Chicago, Illinois in 2004. Your parents are Alexander David O'Rinn and Margot Anne O'Rinn, maiden name DeWitt. They died in 2013. You lived on the streets for three years until you were taken in by Zoey Kasimir, the Gotham vigilante Grim, where you took on her name. Is this information correct?" David gave a groggy nod.
pain
After a moment, the interrogator continued: "You were killed in the line of duty as her sidekick and resurrected by unknown means in 2020. You spent five years in the former Arab Federation before returning to Gotham in 2025, where you took on the false name of David DeWitt and the vigilante alias of the Red Hood while you hunted the criminal known as Anarkee. In late 2028 you- Oh. He's out again. Good. Back to the mind search."

... When he came to, his head seemed to hurt a lot less, which was surprising given that he took a pretty damn good hit to it. He pushed himself up off the ground, only to take another hit to the head, sending him face first back onto the ground. "That's right, stay down pretty boy." He twisted his head around, looking up bleary eyed at a man wearing a hockey mask, who held a pistol in one hand and a black garbage bag in the other. The man was kneeling down next to David.

"What the fu-" David was silenced by the gun barrel that was rammed into his mouth.

"Shut up." The man pulled the pistol out of David's mouth and gave him another hit in the head. David's vision slowly began to turn red as he turned his head side to side. It was just them behind a bar, but he could hear shouting and the occasional gunshot in the other rooms. David looked back up at the man with the gun, seething with barely contained rage.

'Well Dave, you seem to have gotten yourself into a jam.'

'Not now, Hood.'

'You could just let me out, I can take care of it.'

'No!'

'Y̷o̡ù̷ ͟͠t̸̴h̵͟i͘͜͡n̵͟k͝ ͟t͏há̡t ̷̵w͞ą̷͘ś̷ ̧à ŕ͠e̶͘qu̷es҉t̡͡?̕̕͘'

David clenched his eyes tight, trying to fight back.

Hood opened his eyes and ripped his restraints off as he jumped up to his feet, tackling the hockey masked son of a bitch to the ground. He got up on top of the downed man, slamming his fist down onto the man's gun arm and shattering the bone, before punching the man in the face once, twice, three times. With the strength he had, the man's head was quickly turned to a pulpy mess of bone, brain matter, and clumps of hair.

Once he was done, the music came pouring back in and he wiped his bloody hands on the corpse. Hood dug through the bag, finding it to be full of cash and wallets. He found his and David's wallet and pocketed it, before taking the man's pistol and checking the clip. 15 shots. The man didn't fire it at all. What a wimp. If you're gonna rob a place, might as well go all the way and shoot some guys along the way. Oh well. Looks like he's gonna have to do the shooting.

He peeked over the bar slightly, scanning the room. There were a few other guys in masks, all standing over tied up civvies. These guys really think that they can barge in here, fuck up his and Dave's night, and try to take their wallet? They were in for one hell of a rude awakening. Taking in a deep breath, Hood stood up as time slowed to a crawl. He aimed at one of the men and fired, quickly aiming at another and firing, before aiming at a third and firing once more.

He released his breath and threw himself to the ground. The remaining seven men shouted in alarm, firing at the bar. A few bullets penetrated it and whizzed past him... And one of them hit Hood in the right shoulder. "SHIT!" he shouted in mingled pain and rage. Vision turning blood red, he jumped up and over the bar, firing blindly as he went. "You fucking cocksucking son of a whore! THAT FUCKING HURT!"

Time slowed to a crawl around him as he fired, taking out one, two, before the clip was empty. He threw the gun at a third man, rolling out of the way of a few shots before clambering towards one of the dead men's SMGs. He picked it up in one hand, using the other to cartwheel himself away, before releasing his breath and spraying lead. Three more men went down to the barrage of bullets before the gun was empty. Hood dropped it and ran towards the last two men, taking another deep breath as time slowed to a crawl around him.

Bullets whizzed past him, occasionally he'd shift his body to avoid being shot, but eventually he reached one of the men and rammed a thumb into the man's eye, gouging it out and slowly squeezing the right side of the man's head before it caved in with a wet and disgusting (but oh so satisfying) *CRUNCH!* Hood turned around to the other man, who quickly aimed his weapon and fired...

*Click!*

"... You the one that shot me?" The man just looked on in terror at Hood. Hood looked down at the man's crotch, noting the growing wet spot. He grinned, the blood of his enemies on his face dripping down and staining his teeth. He lifted a finger and pointed it at the man. "Bang." Without another word, the man fainted in terror and fell to the ground, causing Hood to chuckle. "Stay down, fucker."

He walked over to one of the dead robbers and picked up his pistol and a few clips, before turning to one of the hostages on the ground. "Hey sweetheart, you see any more guys?" The woman looked wide eyed in fear at Hood for a moment. Hood frowned. "Honey, I'm looking for more guys to kill, you listening?"

She yelped, and stuttered out, "T-they went further into the night club! Through that back door!" She jerked her head in the direction of a door in the back of the room. Hood grinned with murderous intent.

"Alright, thanks. I'll go handle 'em." With those words, Hood cracked his neck and began to walk towards the door to head deeper into this techno hellhole...

"How's the kids?"

"Doing just fine, Paul, sending my eldest off to live with my cousins in Europe."

"No shit! That's fantastic!"

"I know! He's really excited."

"Hey, new guy, you got kids?"

"No, they all die in war with Titans."

"Aw jeez man that's awful."

"Is okay, I rip Greek monsters to pieces with bare hands. As well as with bear hands."

"Woah you have like... shapeshift powers?"

"Yes. I also have Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. Some days it's hard to get out of bed. Some days I decapitate pigeons with bare hands. As well as with bear hands."

Anna found it hard not to burst into laughter as she dangled her feet from the light she was seated upon. Laughing at the misfortune of the poor, ill, and Russian wasn't something that a lady did, but Anna couldn't help it, goddammit!

Right, right, serious, no giggling. She was looking for a specific painting. "Arrival of the Lord of Callibra in New York." Her employer said that the person who had donated it had planted a bug. Her employer often used the museum for clandestine meetings, and said bug was rather unfortunate for him. So she just had to find it now.

Oh, there it is.

Huh.

Well that was easy.

Anna got to her feet and hopped just a bit, the light struggled, but she didn't fall, which was great! Just perfect.

She unfolded the kite on her pack and pushed her hands into the holds, pulling on the tightening cord until her wrist was firmly secured to the elastic rope that hung from the kite's corner.

Quickly doing the same for her other arm, she reached clumsily around the surface of the kite, looking for the button to activate the air cannon. Her fingers slid over the solid part of the kite's underside, and with a soft push, a blast of pressurized air fired off from behind her.

Good, she was ready.

With a small step forwards, she dropped from the light. This was where the exhilaration begun. She threaded her way around the many exhibits, dancing above and below as she shot towards her target. The blinding flash of a flashlight wasn't enough to keep her from diving downwards. Kicking her feet in front of her, she smiled widely as she slammed one of the guards' heads into the ground below.

"We've got a robbery!" one of the still conscious guards yelled with a mixture of fear and complete hysteria.

The Russian approached with one hand on his gun and one hand turning into an octopus tentacle.

Swiftly, Anna split the kite in two horizontally, using the thick half as a shield as he fired off two shots and extended his arm to grab at her. Anna held the thinner half above her head and squeezed on the hand-hold, activating the air cannon, and sending the kite slashing through the tentacle-arm, and slamming into the man's head. Before he was able to hit the ground, the last guard in the immediate area rounded the corner with gun at the ready. Anna shot forward, grabbing the discarded kite half and joining it with the other in an instant. She pressed a purple button on the kite's underside, and again the air cannon shot off, slamming into the man's stomach and flying off. It slammed into one of the connective ropes holding the ceiling lights, cutting it in two and sending it careening into the unconscious Russian below.

Anna pressed a button on her chest, and the kite spun, dropping the guard to his probable death considering how he landed on his neck, oops, and returned to her waiting back.

Before anyone else could arrive, she sprinted over to the painting. It wasn't exactly famous, so there wasn't a glass box protecting it or anything. She grabbed it and taped it to her chest as quickly as she was able.

The rest of the guards had arrived now, so Anna quickly activated the air cannon and shot herself through the closest window with a massive grin on her face.

"That was awesome! Hahaha! Kick, fucking, ass!"

Downtown, Central City
February 14th, 22:20

As if things weren't hard enough, not only had the steady decline in crime since her membership in the Justice League left a rather decent lack of things to do in her off hours, but it was looking like her last few terms of college were going to be exceptionally lackluster as well. Verra did her best to stifle a yawn that was surprisingly mostly due to fatigue from enduring perhaps the least enthusiastic lecturer ever, and from just how late the class ran. She was partially regretting taking the late day slot for that course, now more than ever. At least a few friends were walking with her on their way home, though it seemed they intended to make a stop first.

"Ugh, before tonight I thought that maybe early Indian History could be interesting and full of… I dunno, like intrigue and wars and stuff."

"Yeah, imagine if Mr Tamboli narrated their wars. Might have killed more through boredom than any battle."

"Hey Verra, you coming with us to the club on 5th? It's ladies night so half price shots."

She thought about it for a moment, up ahead was where she needed to turn to get the rest of the way home, but straight ahead was the club. As tempting as it was to unwind for a bit, she had other responsibilities. Besides, not like she could even get drunk anyways thanks to her metahuman abilities. That thought only reminded her how tiresome it could be to act tipsy around her friends, and was quite enough to steer her away.

"No thanks, not tonight. I want to get some work done on my theoretical physics thesis, and I've got that optional lecture for quantum mechanics at eight in the morning."

It was all easy enough for her, but she had never let on just how much so to anyone except her mother. For all her friends knew she was just "gifted" enough to breeze through the easy stuff and had no idea that while she appeared to be deep in thought here and there during exams or tough questions, she was really just daydreaming or working out new designs for her suit. The locket around her neck shifted a little as she turned and paused on the corner, smiling over at the other girls as they grimaced at her workload.

"Jeez, you really should take it easy. You know, most people slack off in their last couple terms and breeze through. I think you're the only one who actually took more courses."

"Well Lisa, have to remember I'm not taking history or science as an extra, they're my primary degrees. Not all of us can rely on their looks alone."

A shared look between them and a long silence followed until it was broken with laughter. Lisa had been a friend of hers for years, since elementary and all she had ever talked about was becoming a fashion model one day. While she and her other friends ribbed her about taking courses on it seriously, it really was just friendly banter.

"Alright, well the rest of us are going to get hammered and try to forget that awful lecture. Try not to have too much fun at home yeah?"

"Yeah, I'll try. See you guys tomorrow at class."

And with that they parted ways. Her friends were soon lost in the bustle of late night Central City and the crowds hitting the clubs along the main streets of downtown. Verra quietly took her own way back, slowly walking along the street and pulling her jacket in closer about herself. Something about late winter in the city always seemed to bring out what she loved about her hometown. The snows hadn't been around for a bit now, but forecast was calling for some later in the week, and she couldn't deny being a little excited about it. At least now that she had some proper ice-shoes. That first winter after she got her powers and the Titan thing was wrapped up… That was fairly rough.

People thinned around her, such as it was that she was heading closer towards the edge of the downtown district and against the flow. It used to be fairly rough on the outskirts when she first got her place in the college housing district. Crime was on the rise, muggings, robberies, the occasional car-jacking or murder. All of that changed once she really started hitting the streets and put people behind bars. Now it was a rarity that any violent crime happened, and for most of the petty stuff she let the police handle it. That was a bit of a mixed bag as it were, on one hand they were happy to have something to do, but there were always people who looked down on vigilantism and that was still what she technically was, even if she did help save the world a couple times.

Lost in her thoughts as she was, she wasn't quite aware of the person following her. It was the click of a hammer mechanism that drew her attention and abruptly away from her day-dreaming. Granted it had been awhile, but with how many times someone tried to pull a gun on her, she had gotten rather used to the sound and recognized a double-action revolver, probably a Colt or a Smith & Wesson. Turning, she thought she would let it play out for a moment just out of amusement since it had been awhile since someone actually tried to mug her.

"The bag and your money."

It was always the backpack, and of course always for the textbooks. Nevermind that pawn shops around town wouldn't take them and it had been a while since the local colleges actually started requiring proof of legitimate purchases. Bad enough that some of the books were in the hundreds of dollars.

"No."

She said it exactly how she felt. As much as she felt like seeing just what the guy wanted, she was tired and didn't exactly feel like having to deal with this for the night. Verra wasn't exactly sure what to expect from the guy, but considering he was either bold or dumb enough to actually pull a gun on someone in Velocity's city, well… Actually, it was probably just dumb. Even through the rather poor face-covering that seemed to be some hosiery from the dollar store, she could see visible confusion as he seemed to struggle with the fact that he had just been told no.

"But… I have a gun."

"So?"

Now that really seemed to turn things upside down for him, and as much as she thought it the responsible thing to do to turn him in to the police for his momentary lapse in judgement, it was clear that he had never actually intended to use the gun. Just a quick glance told her all she needed to know. It was likely just a moment of pretty bad luck that drove a normally decent person to an act of desperation, and most of the time just having a weapon and the appearance of a will to use it was enough to get some easy money.

"That means you have to do what I ask."

"Yeah, I don't feel like it."

Yawning at that point, she rolled her eyes at the protesting tone of his voice and how it really didn't seem to click that she didn't much care that he had a gun. Verra gave one last shake of her head and turned around, giving a light wave as she started to walk away.

"Go home and rethink your life dude."

Arsenal had just about run out of questions, and there was not a crime in town. Looks like it was time to end the stream. He'd leave the city first thing tomorrow.

"And that concludes our broadcast day. Tune in next time, where I'll probably actually do something. Laters."

He switched off his camera and ended the stream on his phone. Well, this entire experience has been disappointing. Maybe Hub City will prove to be more exciting, what with the mob ties over there...

AMBUSH

Arsenal quickly dove off the unit he was resting on, rolling away, and quickly took aim behind him. Nobody. Huh. Where could that have come from...

"The bag and your money."

A voice echoed from the empty street below. Arsenal peered over and found the source: some dude in a generic cheap-ass stocking mask, holding a revolver. Said revolver was pointed at a woman who appeared to be a college student, backpack and all. Great, some action just when he ended the stream. Arsenal readied an arrow, intending to finish this guy quick.

"No."

Wait, what?

Arsenal could sense the crook's confusion as well.

"... But... I have a gun."

"So?"

Wow. Velocity must be pretty efficient if citizens just act so nonchalant. Really, trying to mug someone in this city is pretty dumb, but you'd expect a little more worry from someone at gunpoint.

"That means you have to do what I ask."

"Yeah, I don't feel like it."

At that point, the crook started to falter. It was pretty clear that he wasn't actually intending to use the gun, and that he definitely wasn't expecting any resistance, let alone a brush off like this... on second look, is that gun even loaded?

The lady yawned and started to walk away. Either this was the bluff of a lifetime or she actually had no fear at all.

"Go home and rethink your life, dude."

I can respect the nerves, I suppose. 'Guess I'll go easy on this guy.

Arsenal switched out his arrow for his latest trick arrow, firing at the mugger. The arrow split open midair, a bag inside quickly expanding and the foam within hardening in an instant. It hit the back of the man's head with great force, and an audible CLONK sound, knocking him out before he collapsed.

The archer slid down a nearby pipe back to ground-level, walking over to the unconscious man and taking his gun. He said a small comment, mostly to himself.

"... I'll just, uh... Be taking this. Thanks."

The two men enter the elevator, Doctor Eisenhower pressing the button to head to floor B39, where Captain Curie is. General Wilson leans against the wall, pulling a cigar from his pocket and lighting it with a match which he throws to the floor. The Doctor takes in a deep breath, and speaks: "Curie's alive."

General Wilson raises a brow, taking the cigar from his lips. "So it would seem. How do you feel about that, Eisenhower?"

"... Unsure. We had all these plans for if Curie returned, and we have Operative B87 already. Do we really need him?"

"I think we do. We could use him as the face of this organization... Maybe even get him on the Justice League," General Wilson pauses in contemplation. "The Shell. It had a built in camera and microphone, correct?"

"Yes, so we can monitor Curie's missions. Are you implying...?"

"It would be useful to have an eye on them. Someone within."

"... That it would. And Curie is the perfect man for the job."

"We're still a part of the government. We could place him on there as the government's sponsor, so long as the League agrees."

"An excellent idea."

The elevator doors open with a *ding!*, and the duo steps out. Their destination is clear; the large crowd at the end of the hallway is indicator enough of where Curie is. They arrive, General Wilson pushing through the crowd while Doctor Eisenhower follows close behind. What they see is the piece of equipment long forgotten, standing, moving, talking.

Fred looks at the two newcomers, both of whom he recognizes. He finds himself smiling at them. "Elias, Eisenhower. You miss me?"

"Freddie, you have no idea."

Downtown, Central City
February 14th, 22:30

She had just about taken a full ten steps when instinct alerted her to motion above and behind, the entry of another into the attempted crime. With only seconds before the squeezing of a trigger, she decided it would be more than prudent to take the initiative and stop this before it got out of hand. Time seemed to slow down just for her as she turned, tapping into the speedforce and feeling the electric rush through her entire body as the energy vastly increased her reaction speed. Here and now she could cross vast distances in the blink of an eye, complete multiple tasks seemingly at once, or for this instance… Have all the time she needed to survey the unfolding scene.

From above a man in red was perched atop the nearby roof. Even if she hadn't been rather avid in the pursuit of meta news and the actions of various emerging heroes across the country, she would have recognized this particular vigilante by his choice in weaponry. That and he was one of the few who chose to openly chronicle his actions and sometimes even livestream. Arsenal. Fraction by fraction she watched as he began to pull back at the bowstring, already in the process of loosing an arrow to end what he likely thought of as a direct threat to the life of an innocent.

Since she had the time, she took it to walk back over to the would-be crook, leaning in to peer into the cylinders of the revolver. It wasn't even loaded. Of course, that made sense especially with the hesitance that she had picked up on. The guy really didn't want to do this, but desperate times and chance led to this moment. That meant that her "hero" was about to end someone's life on a false assumption and… Verra paused a moment, relaxing just a fraction to allow the world around her to turn just a little faster. It wasn't a normal arrow.

Of course, she forgot that this one had a particular taste for showing off. It must have been some new arrow that he had come up with. "Alright hero, I'll trust you on this." She made her way back to where she had stood, carefully adjusting her posture and stride. Then everything snapped back into full motion. A heavy thud sounded followed by a body collapsing and the clatter of metal across pavement. With all the skill of one who had done this a few times too many, Verra turned with an expression of shock. Turns out that it really was a non-lethal arrow, the expanded head laying on the ground next to the mugger and his empty piece.

"Th-thanks."

She mumbled the word before taking off on a sprint down the street, making a quick turn towards home as she glanced back at the scene. He must have seen the entire exchange, probably even recorded it. Well that just meant that she had to take care of things for the night. At least she had something to do now, well other than working on something she had done for a year now. It had been a couple days since Velocity took a run through the city anyways, so may as well stretch her legs a bit.

---

Almost as soon as the supposed victim of the attempted mugging had rounded the corner, there was a flash of electricity from the opposite end of the street and a rush of air from beside Arsenal on the roof. The air would feel charged as if a rather significant amount of energy had just been discharged rapidly, and the source would be quite apparent in a hurry. Without need for introductions, the masked speedster heroine hopped up onto the edge of the roof, legs kicking out over the side as she leaned over to review the scene below.

"Wow. Really knocked him out cold, huh."

0250 HRS
Rooftop Outside Aquarius Apartments, Bazaar Quarter, Poseidonis

Had the visor of his prometheum helmet not been in the way, Mal would have rubbed at his eyes. As it stood a little grunt as he shifted his legs slightly to attempt to find some comfortable position to stay in in this armour that was just tight enough to be uncomfortable would have to suffice.

Stakeout duty was always just so much fun.

Having spent the better part of a few hours now crouched in silence (by sheer virtue of running out of things to talk about) with the invisible and avowedly incognito (and possibly napping) King of the Ocean Cuttlefish to his right, a growing pile of empty vessels of the Atlantean equivalent of canned coffee his 'partner' grabbed out of a vending machine from the street below to his left and a whole bunch of other people having fun across the street to his front, Malcolm allowed his mind to wander just a bit. Despite his best efforts.

Some kid wearing a lampshade as a makeshift loincloth was dancing the samba atop some expensive-looking furniture to the amusement for a few girls and the chagrin of a pair of burly, well-dressed and overly-cologned gentlemen who abruptly showed him the door.

An older, professor-looking bloke was seated in a hot-tub smoking some form of herb even he didn't recognize with his students.

A particularly amorous local woman seemed to be chatting up everything on two legs at the bar.

'...When was the last time I actually went out to a party, anyway?'

He racked his powerful brain for answers... and came up depressingly dry. Not a good sign for a guy literally incapable of forgetting anything.

Sure, he sat around and hung out with Irene and Anatoly once in a while back in Gotham, but that hardly counted. Neither did those fancy dinners he had to go to as Zoey's ward, constrained with formality and having to pretend to be some high-society schmuck and all.

It was around the time that Karen and Ophelia began to dance, and sing along to the music playing in that fancy-ass penthouse that the growing momentum of the boy's thoughts abruptly struck an epiphany.

'...Holy shit, I have no life.'

A morose chuckle met that realization as he shook his head slightly, stomping that feeling down and going back to dutifully eyeing up the goings-on of a bunch of people having way more fun than him.

Y'know, typical Mal stuff.

But for the life of him, he wasn't exactly seeing anything particularly nefarious going on. Sleazy maybe, but not nefarious.

Hell, the most eye-catching thing to his increasingly distracted mind going on in there right now was that Atlantean woman from earlier had found someone, a college girl, to get to know better at the bar... who seemed to be having a good time with all that attention.

The armour-clad teen's gaze abruptly halted at the sight, his brow furrowing beneath his helmet.

'Waaaaaaiitaminute...'

She was having a real good time.

Her body was pumping out endorphins and adrenaline at a rate that really shouldn't have been possible with the three strawberry daiquiris in her gut while the neurons in her brain were slowing down to a crawl in a fashion that really shouldn't have been possible by alcohol alone.

The end result? A girl who was probably a ninety pounds soaking wet with a head full of braces and clearly-a-nerd syndrome having the energy in that moment to run a triathlon end-to-end at a dead sprint also too sedate and placid from the chemical cocktail in her brain to remember her own goddamn name.

"...What the hell?"

Mal got his answer, it seemed, as a capsule slid down the barely-cognizant girl's throat via the other woman's tongue. To meet with the two others he hadn't noticed were already in her stomach.

Right around the time her immune-system began to shut down. And some hazy, non-physical force he couldn't quite identify slowly began to pulse through her veins with greater and greater force.

Standing up slightly, the Watchdog's eyes scanned the rest of the room for more people in similar states of disarray, finding at least half a dozen other girls starting to at least show signs of what that unfortunate young miss at the bar was going through. Slower, perhaps due to a lower dosage.

'Well, shit.'

"Karen. Not to ruin your little tango with Ophelia there, but I'm seeing at least six girls in the building with ya who seem to be on the precipice of one hell of a trip. Each with a pill in their gut." He stated into his earpiece, quietly chiming Orin CAPTAIN CUTTLEFISH into the call as he did so. "That geeky kid at the bar whose been swapping spit with the fancy local lady for the past half-hour has at least three in her and looks ready to drop."

'Mako' shot his invisible-to-everyone-else partner in crime fighting a quick glance as he adjusted the straps on his wrist-mounted grapple, a slight edge coming to his voice.

"That serial lip-mauler has a pocket full of those pills, probably your best bet to get a sample. And get that girl some air."

2:55 am
Rooftop Outside Aquarius Apartments, Bazaar Quarter, Poseidonis
They stopped, they were watching, and Static was watching them. He almost wished that he wasn't, but hero work didn't pay that way. Whoever this person was, they'd been watching what seemed like a single location, a building, for about two hours now. Static's movements were slow and careful, lining himself up behind the armored person to try and sneak a peek at whatever was going on at that building they were watching.

From his pockets he produced EM Binoculars. His own making, something he had been working on during his time being restless. Watching the stranger trough the binoculars, he trailed their direction forwards to a building. He couldn't hear much, but he could see the lights from a window. A little more movement from him to see better in let him know that it was a run of the mill party. This guy, lady, whoever they were, was looking to hit the shindig, it only made sense that way. But would could have been in there that would looked important enough to order a hitman on? Even if it was Atlantis, every city was the same.

He activated the electromagnetic filter on the scopes to see if he couldn't pick up anything strange going on in the party. Nothing out of the ordinary. Lights, sounds, music, but nothing crazy to warrant hired killers. Then again, there was never a good person to hire a hitman on.

"Alright." He muttered to himself. Slowly, he eased forward and tucked away the binoculars. Static was never the sneak and stab in the back kind of fighter. He'd rather them try and give up and walk out first before he starting hurling bolts at people.

The closer he got, the more he clenched his fists. Hopefully he could keep all this under the radar, away from the King. No need for someone as important as him to bust a little crime.

"Okay." He spoke again, louder this time as he approached the armored figure. "I'm new around here, but something tells me that dudes scoping out a party all night isn't a good sign. Wanna ditch the armor let the party party on?"

From his fingertips came little purple sparks, his eyes coated in the same electricity to avoid people recognizing him.

Stacy wakes up at the sound of soft sobbing in the next room. She pulls herself out of bed, tiptoeing to the door and cracking it open slowly. Peeking out, she sees nothing but a faint light from the kitchen, Marilyn's shadow playing along the walls. Carefully, Stacy pushes the door open, her socks masking her footsteps as she walks towards the kitchen. There, she sees Marilyn, sitting at the dinner table and holding a picture to her chest, tears streaming down her face. "... Marilyn? Are you okay?"

At the sound of Stacy's voice, Marilyn freezes, before turning to her. She sets the picture down on the table, wiping her eyes. After a moment, she manages to speak, despite still being choked up. "Stacy? What are you doing out of bed?"

The younger girl walks closer, getting into the chair across from Marilyn. "I heard you crying. Are you okay?"

Marilyn sniffles a bit and wipes her glasses, before putting on a smile. "Yeah. I'm okay, sweetheart."

"But you were crying."

"I'm just... Remembering."

"Remembering what?"

"My... My husband. And my son." Marilyn picks up the picture, handing it to Stacy. Taking a look at it, Stacy sees that the picture is of Marilyn with a man and a boy only a bit older than Stacy. Marilyn is obviously younger, looking to be in her mid 30s, and looks far thinner. The man next to her looks to be in his late 30s, with a bushy black beard and short black hair contrasting with Marilyn's long red curls. The boy looks similar to the both of them, with his mother's blue eyes and his father's black hair. They all smile at the camera.

Taking in a deep breath, Marilyn smiles forlornly at the picture, then looks at Stacy. The girl furrows her brow in confusion. "Where are they?"

"They... They died. Six years ago now... Today my little Johnny would've been 22."

Stacy continues to look at the picture, a name ringing through her head when looking at the late boy. David... Who is that? When she thinks of the name she feels a motherly love, but also crushing sadness. She's never met a David before in her life. Has she? Still, the longer she looks at the boy in the picture, the sadder she feels, and before she knows it she's shedding tears of her own.

She passes the picture frame back to Marilyn, who sets it upright on the table and continues to look at it before beginning to cry again. Wordlessly, Stacy stands up and walks over to Marilyn, wrapping her arms around the older woman and squeezing tightly. Marilyn returns the gesture, hugging Stacy closely. After several minutes, the two finally part, and Marilyn smiles at the younger girl. "Thank you."

Stacy lets her smile speak for her.

Moments after getting back onto the roof, Arsenal felt a large gust of wind behind him. With the feeling of electricity in the air, he already knew who it was. His heart stopped for a moment as he turned towards the source.

"Wow. Really knocked him out cold, huh."

It's Velocity.

Oh jeez.

Oh wow, she's actually here.

Shouldn't have ended the stream, DAMNIT!

Okay, just play it cool. Nice and casual-like.

"Uh, Yeah! It's one of my new arrows! Y'know, I sorta have a thing for making really cool arrows..."

That came out weird. Already messing up. Just roll with it. Change the subject.

"So, uh, I haven't really been able to catch you for the last couple of days, with the crime rate here being super low. Which is a good thing! ... But, y'know, not saying it's good like I didn't WANT to see you, just that, like... Sorry, I'm just a bit surprised. Kinda. A little."

This is a trainwreck.

When David regained control of his body, he found himself with his back against an overturned metal table, an SMG in his hands and a pistol in his shoulder holster. Bullets struck the table, jolting it forward inch by inch. A body was next to him, head ripped apart like a blossoming flower. No doubt, it was Hood's doing. Realizing that he wasn't in the best situation, David checked the magazine in the SMG and took in a deep breath, only one thought running through his head...

'Here we go again...'

He waited for a lull in the gunfire. As he did, he could hear the blaring music from a room over trickling in, as if getting louder in anticipation of his attack. After a few moments, the rain of bullets stopped, and he was sure he heard a faint "fuck, I'm out" from one of the men on the other side of the room. Taking his chance, David vaulted over the table, feeling his reflexes kick in and slow his perception of time. He fired off one shot, two shots, three shots at the group of seventeen men, taking out three of them. 'Three down, fourteen to go.'

He ran towards the wall on the left, narrowly dodging bullets along the way, before he jumped on top of a table and then leapt feet first towards the wall. Using the wall as a springboard, he flung himself across the room and took in a deep breath. Time slowed around him, allowing him to shoot another man down before a bullet grazed his leg, making him flinch in pain and tumble to the ground, thankfully coming to a stop behind another table. 'Four down.'

David shouted from behind his cover to the thugs. "Hey guys, if you're thinking about surrendering, you can! It'd just be a bit disappointing!" The only response he got was a barrage of bullets to his cover. He grinned. "I'm gonna take that as a no!" With that, he rolled out of cover, spraying and praying to take out as many as he could. He heard the click of an empty gun after managing to take out the remaining thugs with guns; the last nine all carried jians. Dave didn't recognize the swords, instead mistaking them for...

"Katanas? Fellas, you're a long way from Tokyo." This seemed to make them angry, as one ran towards David, attempting to plunge the sword through his chest. David easily sidestepped the stab and tripped the swordsman up, before stomping on the back of his head and knocking him out. Picking up the sword, David twirled it in his hand. "Alright, you wanna get nuts? Well c'mon then! Let's get nuts!"

The remaining eight men all ran towards David with their swords pointed outwards, all in an attempt to skewer him. In response, David jumped up onto one of the men's swords, kicking him in the face and spinning back around to stab one of the men in the throat. "One, two!" He ducked below a swing aimed at his back, elbowing the man in the gut and then flipping him over onto the ground, where he met a boot to the face. "Three!"

David parried a blow aimed at his head, pulling his pistol from its holster and firing two shots to the man's torso. "Four!" He rolled backwards, away from one of the swordsmen who attempted to attack from the side, then fired a round into the man's head. Still on the ground, David spun around whilst swinging the sword, chopping deep into a thug's leg, then pulling the sword out. "Five, six!"

He jumped up onto his feet, and ran towards one of the last two swordsmen. The man raised his sword to block a strike that wouldn't come; David stopped short and fired at the man's gun hand, making him drop the jian with a shout of pain, before David continued to sprint towards him. He sprung up, delivering a hard drop kick to the man's face. "Seven!"

David stood over the defeated man, hearing a scream from the last swordsman as he ran towards David in an attempt to skewer him through the back. In response David simply spun around and delivered a bullet to the man's kneecap, making him tumble to the ground. David knocked him into unconsciousness with a hard kick to the nose. "Eight. Jackpot." David dusted off his jacket, chuckling. "Without a scratch too! Flawless!" He threw the sword to the ground, where it sprung back up, the hilt banging him right in the shin and causing him to wince and hiss slightly in pain. "... Well, almost."

He turned around at the sound of a man groaning, seeing the one whose leg got chopped up groaning on the ground and clutching his wound. "Hey jackass! Who do you work for?" The only response David got was a loogie to the face. "Well that was just disrespectful. How about this?" David wiped the spit off, then stomped on the man's wounded leg. The man screamed. "Now, who do you work for?"

"Fuck... You!"

David stomped harder. "Answer me, and I stop."

"I... I work for the Golden Dragon Triad!"

"What interest do they have in this place? Why'd you guys come to rob it?"

"An ancient sword is here! Stolen by our rivals, the Punchinello Family! We were coming to get it back, and get some more in the process!"

"And where'd you take it? To your headquarters? Where is that?"

"I'll never tell you!"

"I think you will."

When Dave was finished with the man he was a babbling, tear stained mess of a man. But he got the information out of him. The Golden Dragon Triad are based out of a tea house, The Blossoming Rose. He'd have to head there tomorrow night; he had work in the morning, and he was beat right now. As he walked out to his motorcycle, he rolled his shoulders, only to wince in pain. "Shit... Hood, what happened to my shoulder?"

"We got shot."

"Of course we did. I'll get it out when we get home."

David rode off into the night, heading home.

9:48 P.M., February 6th
Blossoming Rose teahouse, Chinatown, Gotham

The atmosphere here was all wrong.

Yes, it was Chinatown, but even here Siobhan McKenna could smell trace amounts of "America" seeping in through the cracks. Still, it was probably as authentically chinese as any location in Gotham would ever be. After spending so much time in the lands of the Jianghu, it was admittedly difficult to reintegrate with western society—especially the worst of western society.

Ireland, the UK, Europe in general...she’d managed well enough in her return there. America, however, seemed to just be drowning in punchable faces. Arrogant, self-righteous pricks in desperate need of having their teeth kicked down their throat.

Ironic that the feckin’ triads were the only halfway enjoyable company she could find after coming to this country. Why so many wished to move here was a greater mystery to her than even the lost texts of Nanda Parbat. Oh well, at least there was a vibrant underworld here—which meant plenty of opportunities for fun and profit!

“I’m a thief, not a killer. I don’t do assassinations,” she said in Cantonese. ”I couldn’t care less about the Punchingyellow family, or your shitty gang war. Don’t waste my time.”

“It’s not merely the Italians that are the problem,” said Jingyi, hands folded beneath his nose. “Our men were attacked last night at the My Alibi Night Club. Slaughtered, for the most part, but there were survivors who managed to narrowly escape. One man is said to have been responsible for this massacre.”

”...And?” said Siobhan, using her chopsticks to pop a piece of her peking chicken into her mouth, a bundle of rice surrounding it. ”I still don’t see how it’s my problem.”

“He is a violent maniac that has been murdering his way through the criminal underworld for weeks now!” snapped Jingyi, his hands slamming onto the table with enough force to cause their drinks to rattle. “If we’re all dead, you won’t have anyone to conduct business with. Surely you can see how our interests align on this?”

Easing back in her chair, Siobhan glanced over the quaint teahouse. Most of those eating here were regular people unaware that they were sitting next to hardened criminals. Some of them gave her odd looks—that was something she was used to. Standing at over six feet in height with a head of auburn-red hair, she generally stuck out like a bloody thumb wherever she went.

”How about this?” said Siobhan, leaning forward. ”If I happen upon him while on the job, I’ll kick his ass free of charge. I’m not gonna to waste my time searching for him, however—I’m no P.I.”

“Stop being so short sighted, Xue Huoyan!” Jingyi all but shouted, once again causing the table to raddle by slamming his hands down. “This could be the end of all of us!”

---

As he got off his motorcycle and looked up at the quaint little building, he almost had a hard time believing some hardass crooks operated out of here. The two story building looked like any other teahouse around here, only a little more authentic. Looked a bit nicer, cleaner. Still, appearances could be deceiving. Grabbing his helmet from the side of his bike, he slid it onto his head, before checking to see if his two pistols were loaded. Satisfied, David holstered his pistols again and walked into the front door.

And it was only after he entered the tea house that he realized he had no idea what he was looking for. He stood around at the entrance for a moment, scanning the room over and seeing all the people drinking tea at their tables, while looking like a total asshole in his costume. A few Asian guys in nice suits dotted around the room; security guards, no doubt, and he could see a faint glint of metal under their jackets, indicative that they were all packing heat.

One of the guards glanced over at him then looked away... Only for the guard to do a double take and shout something in Chinese at the other guards, pointing in his direction. Oh, great. Couldn't even make it ten seconds in without starting a scene. 'Nice job, Dave. Best infiltration I've ever seen.'

'Eat shit and choke on it.'

The guards all fired at David, who dove behind a nearby pillar and pulled his pistols out. They all yelled curses in Chinese, either in an attempt to intimidate him or out of pure fear. He was kinda hoping it was the latter. The customers all panicked, beginning to swarm out of the tea house. David only gave a small chuckle. "Can't even head into a tea house without getting a gun pointed at you in this town, eh?"

And with that he rolled out of cover and began to fire.

---

Jingyi had dived underneath the table for cover at the first sounds of gunfire, poking his head out only when he realized it was coming from down below. Drawing his pistol, he crawled to the edge of the second floor and stared down at the carnage that had engulfed the once peaceful teahouse.

Siobhan, for her part, had continued to enjoy her peking chicken while observing Jingyi’s ever growing state of panic. He apparently hadn’t considered that they might be attacked here so soon after the battle at the night club. But that was the thing about crazy people—they seldom understood how to take things slow.

”See? And you thought we’d never run into each other,” Siobhan noted to Jingyi, who was glancing up at her in frustration as he fired down at the vigilante. ”You want ‘em alive or dead?”

“Either! I don’t care! Just stop him before he reaches the stairs!” shouted Jingyi.

Popping another ball of chicken and rice into her mouth, she closed her eyes and reached out with her mind across the teahouse. The triads, the fleeing customers, the staff, and the vigilante—one thing they all had in common was chi. Though they themselves were surely unaware of it, this raw life energy flowed through each and every one of them.

But there was something a bit off with the vigilante’s chi. It felt...warped, in a sense. Twisted. It didn’t quite flow naturally as it should. It reminded her a little of the terracotta warriors—dead soldiers sealed within mystical stone that would return them to life if the locations they were guarding were disturbed. Strange that he would feel similar to them.

“What are you doing? Hurry!” demanded Jingyi.

Ignoring him, she stood from her seat with another piece of chicken and rice held between her chopsticks and calmly walked across the second floor of the teahouse, staring down at the floor the entire time. When she at last arrived at the correct location, she gave a quick hop into the air and then slammed straight down through the floor, directly above the vigilante.

Lashing out with her leg in a blur of motion, she slammed the side of her shoe into the strange, red helmet that her new opponent was wearing before she even touched the ground.

David had just gunned down the last guard when he felt his enhanced reflexes kick in. By the time he realized he was being attacked, however, it was already too late, and he found himself taking a kick to the head that managed to send him flying a few feet back, where he landed on his ass. He recovered quickly, doing an unnecessarily complex recovery move that involved spinning into a handstand before backflipping onto his feet and throwing his arms into the air, his back to the attacker. 'DAVE. SOMEONE HIT US. I'M NOT HAPPY.'

David turned around, twirling his pistols and preparing to blow away whoever decided to play hopscotch on his head... Only to stop short at what he saw. His jaw nearly dropped. A staggeringly tall redhead with curves in all the right places. All he could do at the sight of her was mutter a near silent "holy shit" in sheer awe. 'DAVE! DAAAAAVE! LOOK AT HER! LOOK AT HER!' Truly, she was the most beautiful woman he and Hood had ever seen...

... And she was probably going to try to kick their ass.

Recovering quickly, Dave holstered his M1911 and ran a glove across the top of his helmet as though slicking his hair back. He had no chance with this chick... But hey, ain't not harm in flirting. "... Hey there, hot stuff! Looking to join the party?" ... And after saying that, he really had to wonder how had he picked people up in the past. Flirting was a lot harder than it looked.

Siobhan had landed softly on her feet after delivering her kick, watching in silence as the man showed off his unnecessarily theatrical acrobatics. Shoving her last piece of chicken and rice into her mouth, she was forced to abruptly swallow it when he started…flirting with her?

By slicking back his feckin’ helmet, no less.

“Yer a bit of an odd sort, aren’t ya?” she said in English, her thick Irish accent now evident. ”Guess I shouldn’t be surprised—ya go about shootin’ up mobsters in that.”

She gestured to his “costume”, staring at his helmet in particular. ”’Red hood’, right? But it’s not anythin’ like a hood, now is it? She’s more like a helmet, so why not ‘Red Mask’ or somethin’ that actually makes sense?”

'... Wow, okay, she goes and insults our outfit, then she makes fun of our helmet. She's starting to seem like a thot to me, Dave.' Hood was sounding especially offended by the Irish chick's remarks, though Dave was still a bit distracted with... Other things to bother getting mad over it, at least for the moment. Once he fully processed what she said, however, he quirked an eyebrow. Not that she could see it, but still.

"Well, uh... You're not from around here judging by the accent you got going on there, but basically there was another guy in Gotham about eighty years back named, you guessed it, the Red Hood. Crazy enough, he wore a helmet instead of a hood, too! Figured I'd take it up as my crimefighting nom de guerre because I'm not too original." He tapped his helmet. "Plus, I think red's a color that spices things up. When I was a kid going around beating up crooks I wore black, and black just isn't a fun color, is it?"

Shrugging, David took a few steps closer to the kung fu lady. "Man. Really yapping your ear off on this first date, where are my manners? Please, tell me a bit about you, my fiery headkicker."

Siobhan watched him step closing, smiling. She continued to eye him up and down, but it was not a gesture signalling attraction—even if he likely interpreted it as such. Rather, she was checking his armor to see if it could potentially obstruct her chi.

”I’m known ta these feckers as Xue Huoyan,” she explained, stuffing her chopsticks in her pocket. Bending one knee while extending the other out at an odd angle, she curling her fingers until they formed a claw-like shape. ”Fer those of us who only speak English, that’s Snow Flame!”

Taking advantage of their close proximity, she leaped slightly into the air with a spinning kick that seemed to slice through the air more like a blade than a regular limb. Aimed at taking his head off, Siobhan assumed he would dodge this, and so immediately followed up with a blinding flurry of claw-strikes when she landed that targeted the most vulnerable areas that she had discovered on his armor.

Were they used by a normal human, these techniques might be woefully ineffective. After all, simply curling your fingers doesn’t actually make them slashing claws. And yet hers were, slicing through the air—and potentially flesh—with ease. Such was the power of the sacred arts of the Jianghu.

As soon as this "Snow Flame" lady got into that weird stance, David knew that nothing good would come of it. He took in a deep breath, allowing his perception of time to slow and tapping into his speed. He managed to easily lean back to avoid the spinning kick aimed at his head. He knew there would be a follow up, but he wasn't fast enough to dodge the first blow; it caught his right arm, managing to break his gauntlet, tear through his jacket, and give him a nasty gash.

He ducked and rolled backwards, coming out in another backflip to create some more distance. "Phew! Nice trick you got there, Miss Ice Fire! Say, do you do parties? I'd love to see you cut up a cake like that!" He already knew she wasn't just a normal human; in fact, she was probably stronger than he was. He twirled his pistol in his hand and set his sights on her, emptying the clip in her direction.

In truth, the goal Siobhan in her use of Heihuquan was not to merely cut him, but to literally tear hunks of flesh from his body. The fact that he merely receives lacerations said much for his swift reflexes. Inhumanly swift, in fact.

When he rolled back out of her range, Siobhan immediately changed her own stance in response. Folding her arms behind her back, she turned to the side, minimizing herself as he unleashed a hail of bullets in her direction. Weaving precisely around the oncoming gunfire almost like a blade of grass dancing in the wind, she quickly withdrew her chopsticks from her pocket as the last volley was fired.

Allowing her chi to flow into the simple wooden eating utensils, she intercepted the last of the oncoming bullets with one of the sticks, immediately arresting its momentum before giving it a quick smack with the other chopstick, sending it flying back at the Red Hood.

When Dave finished emptying the clip, with Snow Flame easily weaving through the barrage of bullets, he figured that was that and they'd go at it with pure fisticuffs. Dave wasn't quite expecting what came next. She caught the bullet with chopsticks. He only had a second to react, leaning out of the way of the bullet... But not quite enough. The bullet managed to chip off a chunk of his helmet and graze his forehead, a stray lock of brown hair peeking out of the hole.

On the inside he was screaming from how much it hurt.

On the outside, he kept up his same goofy facade. "Oooh, didn't quite hit the mark there, did ya? Marksmanship not quite your thing?" He didn't bother waiting for another attack, instead running forward and grabbing an assortment of cups and plates from a nearby table. He flung them with all his strength at Snow Flame, hoping to hit her and at least make her stumble a bit. With his luck, she was made of iron and would no sell it. Or, you know, just outmaneuver them, like she did last time.

”Funny,” she said against the backdrop of a teahouse that had just been riddled with dozens of missed shots. ”I was just about ta say the same of you.”

When Red Hood charged forward and began to throw various cups and plates in her direction, she immediately leaped into the air towards them. Touching the first plate with her foot, she set her next onto the teacup just ahead of it, effectively running on the still airborne dishware towards her opponent. Placing both of her feet on the last of the thrown plates only long enough to leap off of it, she descended upon the vigilante with the grace of a leopard.

Shifting to Jiao Li the moment she managed to get her hands on him, threw him towards the nearest wall with bone-crunching force...at least, it would’ve been against a normal human. This man seemed…enhanced.

She was definitely intrigued.

"OhshitohshitohshitohshitohshIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIT!"

*KRAAAAK!*

David burst through the wooden wall and into an alley between the tea house and a cheap massage parlor. He laid on the ground for a moment, groaning in pain, before leaping up onto his feet and cracking his back. "... How the hell did I not break every bone in my body?" This was new. He hadn't exactly tried it before, but he expected to at least break a limb or two tumbling through that wall. Aside from it hurting like a son of a bitch, he felt... Surprisingly fine!

"Phew! Hey, thanks for that, had a kink in my back that wouldn't get out!" David called back to Snow Flame as he walked back into the tea house through the decimated wall. On the inside, he spoke to Hood. 'Hey, uh, my psychopathic friend? How the hell did our bones not get turned into tissue paper?'

'Beats the hell outta me, dude.'

Siobhan smiled brightly when he stepped back through the wall mostly unscathed, giving her a genuine round of applause. ”Ya really are made of tougher stuff than the average bloke, aren’t ya? ‘Should consider visitin’ Shambala, learn some real martial arts skill!”

Rolling her neck from side to side for a moment, she relaxed her stance and pointed up above her. ”The boss of those triads is up there—or he was when I came crashin’ down. Probably ran by now.”

“I don’t actually give a rat’s arse about protectin’ that scum, I just wanted ta see what ya were made of, bein’ the big scary vigilante that’s had ‘em all scared ta shite.”

David grinned beneath the helmet, both at the praise Snow Flame was giving him and the fact that he apparently had the criminal underworld pissing their pants. "Aw, they're really saying all that about me? Warms my little heart." David leaned against the railing to the stairs, looking up them. "Well, it was nice getting to know ya Miss Snow Flame. Say, before I go and 'rain justice on the wicked' and 'send them back to Satan' and all that cool, broody bullshit, you mind giving me your number?"

'Don't do it, Dave. She's a thot. I already know she is.'

'Shhh.'

Siobhan glanced behind her, then sensed above her. All of the triads were either dead by this point, or had fled. The staff and customers had likewise evacuated the teahouse soon after the shooting had began. Returning her focus to the Red Hood, she shrugged her shoulders. ”Sure, sure, why the feck not? I run a bar a ways from here. 46th street, just outside Chinatown, can’t miss it. Me name’s Siobhan, by the way—me actual name.”

Turning away from him, she began calmly stepping through the myriad clutter—broken tables, shattered dishes, dead bodies—towards the door. Maybe she was a little too harsh on this place; it had some pretty interesting residents.

Holy shit, that actually worked! ... Kinda.

"I'll uh, be sure to swing by sometime then! You'll probably recognize me from the bullet graze on my forehead." Turning around, David began to climb the stairs, grinning to himself. He took a look around, seeing, well, nothing. There definitely wouldn't be any clues as to where the Triad leader went amidst the ruins of the tea house, either. Damn.

'Hey Dave, if you let me do my thing, I could find this guy in no time.'

'... Fuck it, go for it.'

'WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO'

"HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"



When David came to, the first thing he realized was that he was near ass naked, wearing nothing but his boxers and his helmet in a warehouse. He poked his head up to look around, spying the dead bodies, discarded weapons, and loads of shell casings. All he could do was sigh and lay his head back down...

"God fucking dammit, Hood."

Downtown, Central City
February 14th, 22:30

Wow, this is a trainwreck. As amusing as his fumbles were, she didn't laugh or even show her own amusement at watching him steadily dig that hole deeper with each passing breath. No, she patiently listened, gave a nod when needed and once he was done she glanced back down to the unconscious mugger.

"Well, I think it's great. More of us should try to stick to less-than-lethal solutions, and it's good of you to look towards that."

A little bit of a morale booster never hurt, and she had a feeling that like many other vigilantes that have come and gone in the last few years, her own activities could have been a bit of an inspiration. It wasn't unusual for people to stop by some of the major "hero cities" as they've come to be called in the hopes of spotting a member of the Justice League. Sure, Lady Arcana tended to literally glow in the spotlight, and Grim had their own sort of cult following over in Gotham. Her own 'fans' tended to be a little more down to earth even if not quite in the same numbers. Likely because even with her gift and the presence of everything else in the world, she still openly and adamantly stuck to her ideals.

Arsenal though. She wasn't expecting him to be among those taking the trip to Central City in hopes of seeing Velocity. Maybe there was more to him than she thought at first, though she still did not approve of his capacity for violence.

"So then Arsenal, now that we're sharing a roof, what's up? By the by, never really figured myself as a brooding over my city in the cover of night kind of girl, but I can sorta see why you guys do it. It's kinda neat up here off the streets."

2:55 AM
Aquarius Apartments, Bazar Quarter, Poseidonis

”What?” said Karen, immediately freezing mid-push step. They had been dancing for a good few minutes, and she had almost forgotten her entire reason for going to the party to begin with. It had honestly just felt so good to cut loose a little and not worry about her responsibilities.

But that was an incredibly selfish way to feel, wasn’t it? She wasn’t a normal girl. She had an obligation to help people if it was at all possible—she was the Wizard. She was Lady Arcana. If she didn’t do something to help that woman, there’s no telling what could happen.

Glancing to Ophelia, Karen frowned. She seemed to be having fun, but there was simply no helping it right now. ”Ophelia, listen—I just saw a girl over there that needs my help. That Atlantean woman over there has been slipping her drugs and, well, she isn’t looking so hot.

”What? Karen, we jus-” Ophelia started, before she threw a glance over her shoulder in the direction of the girl. The world spun a little with the movement. The girl really wasn't looking too hot. Plus, if it would put Karen’s mind to rest then there wasn’t any harm in just going over to check it out.

She caught herself on Karen’s shoulder as she nearly tripped over her heels trying to stop dancing. She was starting to feel some of that alcohol too, she realized. It took a second to steady herself, but she managed to put on a more sober front.

”Okay, let’s go check on her,” Ophelia said, nodding towards the girl.

This had better not take too long, this party had just started getting good. Plus, she had a feeling it’d take a while to get Karen to come out with her again. She wasn’t about to waste her time babysitting some ho who couldn’t hold her liquor. Although, Ophelia herself hadn’t proven necessarily the most stellar judge of character throughout her lifetime. Her ex lovers may have been assholes, but they were at least hot assholes. Or rich.

”Thanks, Ophelia,” said Karen, relieved that she wasn’t going to have to explain everything to her. She had an excuse in mind, for how she knew—she was going to claim it was just one of her magic powers. Most had no idea what Homo Magi could and couldn’t do, so it’d probably work.

Immediately making her way towards the girl at the bar, Karen reached out to interpose her arm between the two women. ”Hey, I think she’s had enough of whatever you’ve been giving her.”

The college girl looked quite confused by this in her wired state, while the local woman seemed quite clearly irritated at the intervention. Upon giving Karen the once over, however, her frustration seemed to melt away. “Oh? And what about you, then? You looking for a little fun, sweety?”

Karen immediately suppressed the reflexive frown that was desperately tugging at the corners of her lips. This woman was obviously suspicious, but she was offering her drugs—precisely what she wanted. She needed to play things cool.

”I really haven’t had much of anything tonight, so I wouldn’t mind,” she said, forcing a smile. The girl behind her looked rather incensed that she had stepped in and apparently stolen her woman, but as she opened her mouth to protest, Karen shot Ophelia a glance in the hopes that her friend would take the girl somewhere safe in her stead.

Ophelia’s first reaction was to be a little peeved Karen interrupted their dancing just to get drugs. Her second reaction was to catch on to the scheme. She took the college girl by the arm, and gently began to turn them towards the bathroom. She paused a moment at Karen’s ear.

”You sure you got this, honey?” She whispered.

”I’ll be right behind you, don’t worry—just get our friend some air,” said Karen.

”We’ll be in the bathroom, make sure you save the good stuff for me, baby.” She said to both the man and Karen, giving them an exaggerated wink.

As she walked with the woman to the bathroom she cast a glance over her shoulder back at Karen. Ophelia was usually the one who took point distracting people or dealing with narcotics or other illicit goods in most of the situations like this that she’d encountered before. Karen really didn’t seem like the type to have a lot of experience in those fields. Maybe she was underestimating the girl, but she couldn’t help herself but worry.

”Yeah, the party’s been kind of slow,” Karen continued, flashing the older woman a slight pout in the hopes that she would forget all about the girl Ophelia had just led away. ”You have anything that might spice things up a little for me?”

She didn’t exactly look like it, but Karen had been lying about herself to people for some six years now. While her skill in the art of subtly might have gotten a bit rusty (as evidenced by her bumbling into Mal’s dorm room), she still had quite a few tricks up her sleeve.

The older woman smiled, her rose-colored lips glistening in beneath the overhead lights. “Perhaps. You’re going to the university, I take it?”

Karen nodded. ”Yup, I only arrived a little over a week ago, so I’m still getting used to this place. It’s quite beautiful, isn’t it?”

“Indeed,” the woman said just a little too sweetly, extending a slender finger to trace the length of Karen’s arm. “It is unlike any other place on Earth.”

Resisting the urge to back away at the unwanted contact, Karen forced herself to endure it until she had the pill in hand. ”Still, I had expected a little more from this party, you know? I tried dancing for a while, but…”

“Not quite your speed, hm?” asked the Atlantean, chuckling. “Well, perhaps I can help with that.”

Reaching into her purse, she removed a small red pill, round in shape. Extending her hand towards Karen, she briefly flashed a few of her pearly-white teeth at her. “I think this will more the alleviate your boredom, dear.”

Taking the pill from the woman’s hand without a moment’s hesitation, Karen stared at it curiously for a brief second before seemingly placing it in her mouth. ”...Thanks!”

The woman seemed convinced, and why wouldn’t she be? The pill was clearly gone—Karen had used a vanishing charm to cloak its presence within her hand. For something so small, it required only a second of concentration on her part.

She then spent a few more minutes making small talk with the woman, before excusing herself to go to the restroom. Weaving her way through the crowd, she pushed open the door to the girl’s room, hoping that Ophelia would be waiting for her with the other girl.

Ophelia stood beside the girl, leaning against the wall, scrolling on her phone with one hand, holding a handful of the girl’s hair in the other. The girl herself was leaned over the toilet, puking into it. Ophelia looked up from her phone.

”Karen, thank god. How’d it go? Can you hold this girl’s hair, I need to get a damn drink.”

”No time, I have one of those pills,” said Karen, moving towards the sink. Placing her finger to her ear, she muttered quietly. ”Hear that?”

Ophelia tied the girls hair up with a rubber band before joining Karen at the sink.

”Hear what?”

”Ophelia,” whispered Karen, glancing to her roommate, ”this party is about to get a lot wilder. You might want to go back to the dorm.”

2 AM, February 4th, 2026.
Coast Condos. Across the street from the Coast City Institute of the Arts. Coast City, California.

*BZZZTTT*
"Security cams show the thief in the West Wing, the Historical arts exhibit. Looks like they can fly, or at least glide. Taking out the guards and - HEY!!!!! Look if you aren't gonna pay attention, I can always go back to watching Netflix and sticking forks in electrical outlets."
Beka sighs and taps the mic on her helmet.
"yeah yeah, west wing. Art thief, possible flight. Yes to Netflix, no to forks. You remember what happened last time. I'm not there to putout the fire and or fix the breakers when you inevitably blow something.

WAIT. ANOTHER FLIER?


Jessie this might be someone like me?
"Pfft maybe"

"Time to drop in for a reunion i guess. Never was one for the whole "early is on time thing"

Rebekah picks herself up out of the crouch and assesses the distance to the Institute window. Its across the street, a good 100 feet across and two floors down.
Tapping another button on the helmet, she turns on the thermal imaging, and watches the code fly across the screen as Jessie locks on to her target. Beka drops her eyesight to the bottom of her HUD, pulling up her Pandora screen. She sets it to "SOAD Radio" and brings her eyes back to the ledge as the music begins to play.

A guitar begins the chords to Aerials as she calculates her flight path once she jumps.
Noting the distance needed, she takes four steps backwards on the roof she is standing on, takes a breath and begins to sprint.
Another breath, a foot pushing off the roof edge.
A drop to her stomach, a rush of adrenaline as she starts to fall.
A whoop of pure joy as she tucks her wings close to her body, beginning to spiral as she plummets toward her destination.
The sound of drums as she pushes her baton through the window ahead of her, twisting in the air to land safely.
A beat.
She hits carpet and shakes out her wings.
Another beat.

Beka runs to the end of the corridor, pausing to take in her compatriots directions.
"LEFT RIGHT LEFT RIGHT B A START"
*okay go left, take a right, another left... wait*
"Are you playing Contra? In the middle of a robbery? Now whos not paying attention?"
"Well you said you had this but suuuure, take a left and hit the stairs jeez"
Beka grins at her friends antics and heads in the direction of the stairs.
"You know I love your ability to multitask right?"
A commotion is heard as Beka reaches the stairs and she watches as the ceiling lights crash down onto the first floor and the men below.
A second crash as a window shatters, taking a figure through it.

"Change of plans, Jessie. This is gonna be an air job. Leaving the scene now keep tabs on them?" She sighs and jumps the railing, circling once as she readies herself to corkscrew through the shattered window.
As she reaches the night air once more she hears Jesies voice rattling off new directions, but she can already see the figure in the distcance.
A few swift beats of her wings and she is gaining.
Beka shouts at the ever nearing figure, "CITIZEN, YOU ARE UNDER ARREST FOR SUSPECTED THEFT. ANY RESISTANCE WILL BE MET WITH... RESISTANCE"
She cringes inwardly at her wording, but surges forward through the air as the figure before her falters slightly.
*Looks like my numbers are coming up, this is gonna be easier outside* Beka shivers, bracing both for the cold and the impact of two bodies in flight.

2:55 AM
Rooftop outside Aquarius Apartments, Bazaar Quarter, Poseidonis

All at once, every muscle in Malcolm’s body went tense. And for the first time in hours it had nothing to do with the insufferable chaffing of his suit.

Before the living electromagnet had even spoken, the armour-clad teen was on his feet, alerted to his roommate’s approach by the residual electricity that danced across his vision clearly headed behind him… well, that and the incessant buzzing in his ears.

’Oh my fucking Christ…’

To his credit, he managed not to say that out loud… Or scream it at the top of his lungs- as he so wanted to..

Instead, he kept his eyes locked on the party across the street and though clenching his fists, letting out what was clearly a particularly pissed-off breath and screaming all manner of profanity in his own head… remained civil as he answered the hero.

...Or rather, he tried.

”You fuckin’ dumba-” ‘Mako’ all but snarled through his voice modulator but managed to catch himself with a little hiss through his clenched teeth as he glanced over his shoulder, waving Static down ”Would you get down here, cut the ‘Theatric Entrance’ shit and kill the lightshow before you draw every working set of eyes in a two block radius?”

Orin, whos attention had been focused on the party in the apartment across the way suddenly was pulled back to their current location by the voiced behind him. Turning, he saw Malcolm in heated discussion with another costumed figure. Considering the newcomer hadn’t attacked on site, he was most likely along the more ‘moral’ side of things, but Malcolm had a point. He was drawing a lot of attention. Stepping away from the edge of the roof, Orin began walking quickly, his long strides taking him in a circle around the pair of whispering teens. This suit was designed for invisibility and surveillance, and practically and combination of the two. Coming back to his starting position, Orin flicked his wrist and slid a small disk from a pouch on his forearm. Tossing it on the ground between the two bickering heroes, he cleared his throat, shimmering back into view.

”My associate has a point. You draw too much attention friend. Fortunately, this should help.” With a snap of his fingers, a chameleon shield went up around the trio, throwing up a projected image of their surroundings while hiding them from all but the most advanced view.

”There. Now that that’s taken care of, it seems we should clear up some misunderstandings. I expect we’re on on roughly the same side after all, considering nobody’s gone for weapons yet. Let’s work this out. Hopefully before whatever those young ladies took over there hits them like… What was it? A freight train?”

“Shit.” Static mumbled to himself, watching another come out of the woodwork. Upon the request of the first one, Virgil jumped off his board and stood with the two armored individuals. There wasn’t much he could do against two. They both seemed like out of his league, but the first one had something about him that stood out.

“Wait…” He put his hands up and looked at the second figure. “Hits them? Is this a drug thing?” They didn’t put up guns or arms, so obviously they didn’t want to hurt Static. At the very least, they didn’t want him to become collateral in whatever was going on. Clearing his throat, he shook his head at them. “Of course its a drug thing. It always is. So what’s going on?”

”We don’t know yet.” Mako answered plainly if a little abruptly as his head turned back towards the direction of the party… only to find that whatever distortion field that Orin had thrown up was kicking up enough juice to be opaque to his eyes- making him more than a little agitated to be wasting time with this right now, of all things. Especially with Karen in there. ”Which is why we’re watching. Quietly.”

Static nodded. Made enough sense, but they’ve been watching for a long time, and haven’t picked up on much. “Then we’re watching the wrong thing.” he suggested to them. “If there’s drugs in there, someone has to be moving them in. Unless this is like a whole den and the good stuff’s already in there, there’s no point in watching the party. We gotta watch the doors.”

He felt like he was actually doing something. He liked school, he liked normalcy, but being a hero was why he stayed up late at night. These two atlantean heroes seemed to welcome a stranger well enough, which helped in making Static feel a little more at home underwater.

Mal’s brow twitched at that, unseen beneath his helmet.

”As a matter of fact, we’ve already got someone on the inside gathering intel.” ‘Mako’ explained frankly as he crossed his arms ”The original plan was to act as back-up in case anything went wrong. But now that plan’s gone out the window with civilians in harm’s way...”

At that, Mal leaned forward slightly, indicating to himself and the ’Mighty Cuttlefish’ with his thumb.

”So when the word’s given, we are going in. By the books.”

”By the books. Right.” Static muttered only to himself, as if that meant anything to him. Now that he was able to get a good look at this armor up close, he was starting to notice how similar in design and architecture it was to the rest of Atlantis’ overall design and aesthetic. Not even in a way that would suggest them being normal Atlanteans, but this armor looked like it had weight to it. These people were someone. ”I’ll let you guys take the lead on the whole drug raid.” He nodded to mostly himself in reassurance before looking back at them. ”Yeah, yeah. Where do you need me?”

Orin smiled wryly behind his tentacled mask as he watched the mounting tension between the two boys. Teenage ‘big-dogging’ as he’d heard some of the surface-dwellers refer to it. So long as it didn’t get in the way of the mission at hand, there was nothing harmful about it. He turned back to the building across the street and stepped out of the cloaking shield he had set up, taking in the scene of the party.

”I can see multiple entrances, at least for myself. I can slip in practically anywhere, nobody will spot me. The two of you might have a harder time sneaking in. Which begs the question: Is sneaking in out of the question? Or shall we simply flex our muscles and burst inside?”

”We shouldn’t bust it up. Not without knowing what sort of firepower they have inside. Not to mention civilians.” Static let out his opinion with a finger and a thumb on his chin. There was already someone on the inside, probably there to verify that drugs were already in circulation at the party. Maybe they could lend their hand at seeing what kind of guns were inside. ”Plus, we don’t even know what the drugs are doing to people. If they freak, they could attack us first.”

”Agreed.” Mal nodded with a little sigh, he wasn’t exactly too happy with the idea of bringing Virgil on board their little ‘Sting’. Knowing better than most the guy wasn’t exactly the most… subtle person he’d ever met (sorting through all of Mal’s things with strangers aside). ”Alright, so here’s what we’ll do-”

”-No time, I have one of those pills.” Karen’s voice suddenly filtered in through his ear… with what was clearly a whole lot of vomiting going on in the background. ”Hear that?”

<”Ya got that, Big Guy?”> Mako fired toward the Incognito King in his own tongue <”Almost showtime.”>

Head snapping back towards the hero in front of him, he brusquely opened one of the pouches on his belt, fished out another communicator and held it out for the lad.

”You. There’s an arcogenerator under a manhole in the parking lot on the other side of the building. Get in there, wait for my signal, and disable it when I tell you.” Malcolm barked in an almost military fashion, the rapid approach of ‘GO TIME’ instinctually kicking down any thought of grumption and hesitation before his head turned back toward Orin ”Big Guy, pick an access point, I’ll go in from the other side and we’ll move quick and quiet in a pincer movement. Sound good?”

Orin nodded and stepped up onto the edge of the building. He tapped the earpiece Mal had given him to make sure it was securely in place, then turned towards his companions. ”I’ll be on the leftmost balcony. On your signal, I can move in anywhere inside.”

Turning back to the ledge Orin crouched down and leapt into the open space, his powerful legs propelling him through the air. Though not as powerful as Tanks leaps, Orin could clear quite some distance. However, landing could prove to draw some attention. To slow himself down, Orin spread his arms halfway through his arc and activated the ‘fins’ on his suits. The winglike membranes spread to connect his arms and body, catching the wind and slowing his descent so that he landed softly on the semi-crowded platform. His suits advanced camouflage system allowed him to blend in perfectly with his surroundings, standing by a deserted section of the railing to keep a close eye on the party up close...

Static was already gone by the time that Orin had jumped. Communicator in ear, he had already took the long way around the building to not get spotted. Slipping down to the ground and using his control over magnetic fields was child’s play to move a manhole cover. The vigilante slipped into the sewers to locate the generator in question. His ears were still tuned to the earpiece, making sure he didn’t miss his mark when mako would finally call out to him. Once in position, he tapped his ear and made his location clear. ”In position.” he reported quietly.

With a grunt, Mal was on the move not long after the others, leaping off the edge of the building and keeping largely out of sight as he maneuvered his way around to the far side of the penthouse, grappling and clinging to the underside of the balcony opposite Orin’s. Still not activating his suit’s own reactive camouflage knowing that, unlike the King’s own gear with it’s modern, ultra-compact arcogenerator, he was running with a magi-capacitor that was older than most languages above the waves. One that had a limited capacity.

Luckily, he had no intention of drawing this out.

Still, it paid to take the necessary precautions.

”Bubble-Pop, can I get an analysis on that drug real quick?” Mako called over his headset, making a point to avoid calling Karen out by name on the channel ”I’d like to know what we’re dealing with. Preferably before we go into the breach.”

”Yeah, I’m in the middle of it right now,” she said, the sound of Malcolm’s scanner running in the background clearly audible. It only took a moment to run its course. ”...Alright, uh...it’s an arcane stimulant with a neural sedative. Not sure how that works, but that’s what it said.”

”Greeeaaat… so we have no idea how crowd control’s gonna be.” Mal replied, shaking his head a little but accepting this kind of complication as the usual state of affairs in his life ”Situation normal; all fucked up... Sparky, you in position?”

”Hit me with the say so.” ignoring the nickname, Static look a look at the acrogenerator once more. Surely, he just needed to fry it, cause a disturbance. This should let the two others break in and handle thing. ”Yo, inviso-dude. Ready?”

Cuttlefish ducked down as a nearby party reveler swept an arm out, nearly colliding with the hidden king. He chuckled to himself and tapped the earpiece, counting on the suits built-in noise dampeners to keep him from being heard by the nearby people. ”I am in position. On Makos mark.”

Turning his head to take one last assessment of where all the players were inside; his targets, his civilians, his Kare-bear... Mal allowed himself a deep inhale and a slow, calming exhale as the reactive armour of his ancient suit quietly hissed itself to life.

”Sparky…” He finally called out over the comms, voice actually filled with something less than pissed off intensity for the first time in a while. ”Welcome to the fucking Argonauts. Now drop that shit.”

With a mighty exertion of power, Static threw his hands forward and let the spark fly at the generator. What a kickass line that was by the angry one, he could almost forgive him for being a big of an asshole as some others he knew. Overloading a generator was easy. No matter who made it, no matter how much it could take, this was something Statis was good at. Of course, you couldn’t overload a generator without a little….

BANG!