"Good, on my end," Midnight responded through the earpiece under his helmet, the boy's attention remaining on this new addition, this new hero. Who wore a porclein mask? That thing didn't look very sturdy, at all. Though, one could claim that it suited this man's more laid back nature, an almost bored approach greeting the young knight where this french man stood, taking a swig of his drink. 

"This fucker has sass. I like him!" Nocturne's voice echoed throughout Nello's mind, the shade easily impressed by the more lax individuals displayed in the roster of heroes. Those who did not yield to moral obligation, or pretended to be more virtuous than they actually were. He enjoyed it, when people yielded to their more primal urges, to their impulsive nature. It was a pure notion, indeed, one which had not been obfuscated by the ironic term of wearing a mask. There was little need in keeping up appearances, especially if your identity had been shrouded. 

"There's another Ultra, here," Nello continued, his ghostly voice quiet as he spoke through the device under his helmet. "Claims he was helping," Midnight continued, before shifting his words to Éclater. "I'm Midnight," the boy introduced himself, still somewhat unsure of this new arrival.

"Midnight!" Came a young voice, catching the knight off guard before he noticed a child running towards him. A girl, no older than ten, her glimmering blond hair reflecting the sunlit shine like gold. A bright, fair smile was clearly visible on her face as she looked towards the boy, her large, blue eyes fixed on the hero, with an older female voice clearly audible in the background.

"Sara, get away from him!" The child's mother, no doubt, stopping dead in her step a worried expression made its way to the woman's face, seeing her daughter only inches from the dark knight. 

"Is this awkward? I feel like this is awkward," Nocturne commented, before Nello lowered himself to a knee, that armor clanging as he did.

"Sara, was it?" Nello spoke, his voice soft if metallic, and ghostly.

"Ya'!" The girl returned, a plushie in her hands, a teddy bear wearing cloth armor and a plastic sword. She enjoyed the fairytales, truly. It made sense, that Midnight was her hero of choice. "You're Midnight!" Sara, the girl, exclaimed brightly.

"Get away from him, Sara!" The child's mother repeated before she earned a response from her daughter. 

"Stop it, mom! He's nice!" Came an innocent voice. 

"The hell is even happening?" Nocturne chuckled, unable to fully grasp the situation at hand. Despite being public heroes, it was quite uncommon for people to actually approach. The stigma, the fear of being so official with their approval of vigilantes hindered the notion. 

"Sara, you come back here, right now!" It was clear that the girl's mother was apprehensive to walking closer to Midnight.

"Hey, Sara?" Nello spoke, "it's been really nice meeting you, but you should probably head back to your mom."

"After she takes a picture!" Sara jumped, "take a picture, mom!" She flailed. This would be all over the internet. There was little need for her mother to take a picture, truly, but in the mind of a young child, this moment needed to be captured. 

"Sara!" The older woman tried, in vain.

"Picture!" Sara demanded, causing her mother to groan. If the woman thought her child in immediate danger, she would have surely evened the distance between them and collected her. This mother's apprehension was likely due to public image, more so than anything. With a heavy sigh, she produced her phone.

"Give her the sword! DO IT! Give her the sword, it'll be awesome! AWESOME!" Nocturne shouted before Nello gave in to the demand, conjuring forth Moonshadow, causing the ever-gathering crowd to watch intently.

"Here, Sara." The boy spoke, unable to hide that smirk under his helmet. There was a bit of a rebel inside of him, as he held up the sword with Sara's hand placed on the hilt, a wide smile on the girl's face.

"Woah! Look, mom!" The excitement emanating from the child was truly unmatched, her small fingers on the hilt of Nello's sword, as the boy knelt down behind her, helping the girl to carry the blade for a picture. People say to never meet your heroes, but Nello wanted to make that notion a moot point.

City Outskirts, Los Angeles, California

"You ever have that feeling that there's just... things we can't see?" The first voice was sincere in its question, just like it was soft in tone. The second that followed was not so much and by contrast was a man's, although not too forceful in reply; "No, not really."

"I don't know," Her tone paused with a huff of frustration as did her movement, "Its like every day we're missing something around here. It isn't like anyone's stealing it either, it has to be like a ghost or something."

The man did not even try to hide his laughter, it choking him up a bit as he came to stand beside the woman, looking over her shoulder, "A ghost? A ghost is stealing from the grocery store...?"

He already knew she was talking about the stolen meat, yet again. It wasn't uncommon for thieves to sneak off with it but how it was happening while a camera was pointed at the case he wasn't sure, let alone how it was disappearing from the locker. He was pretty confident it wasn't a ghost as he mocked her a bit more in response to that making "ghost" noises, only seeming to frustrate his coworker further. This had become an ongoing issue for the past month now and the count was adding up.

"I'm being serious! Where does it keep going?" She brushed the red stains from her hands on to the white of her overcoat before turning around to unpack more of the product from the rack and on to display. Taking several more wrapped cuts and shelving them behind the glass, she heard him continue.

"It has to be the overnight stock who is taking it." He replied, putting the toe of his boot on to one of the wheels of the next cart and stopping it beside the first as the brake was applied. By comparison to her, he seemed more grounded in reality even if he didn't look it between the beard net he wore and the grocer's ball cap he was wearing.

"What, the kids who get scrutinized for everything already? Doubt it. Steph caught the last few when they were taking product but he's not sure now." The woman rebutted, as she slid in one of the cuts on styrofoam. Her hand fell to her hip and she already was scowling by the time he finished his reply of, "Steph's also like eighty years old now too."

"Whatever, there is no way anyone is just taking the meat, like big cuts too. That is so stupid, how is no one seeing them back here?"

The conversation went on for a bit, the two idly going about their work until the woman stopped again when she entered the back cooler again. Her cart slid a bit more on the grated surface but it was really something that caught her eye that she wasn't expecting that left her motionless. Blinking a few times, she came to walk forward and bend over, looking down at a mark on the floor. A bit of pink, red staining on the metal, like a handprint after handling the meat. She hadn't seen it before but now that she did she couldn't help stare at it and not just because she would have to clean it, instead it just didn't look right.

She started to curse and mouth to herself along the lines of "Who put their hand on the floor?", before the heavy door to the cold storage shut. The woman near leapt out of her skin, falling backward with a shriek, and while Andrew might not believe in ghosts she sure as hell did now.

Only, unknown to her and the grocery store, their visitor hadn't been so much an unsent spirit as it was a several hundred pound hungry carnivore. One they had accidentally kept letting in and out without ever seeing or hearing it, typical of a cat no matter the size. The cause as to why they had yet to see it? Simply put, it hadn't wanted them to, and without them thinking about it, it walked right past them and then out one of the doors; the one the employees enjoyed smoking by as it wasn't watched by the cameras. That was their failing and now it went off with a slight saunter into the daylight across the back lot's blacktop. Building a bit of speed to overcome the fence, it grasped the top in one fluid motion, and kicked off the linked portion with its back legs, landing on the other side in the grass with no real effort.

With nothing more than an audible jingle and sway of the fence, the fed tiger could not help but snicker to itself, a bit of glee tugging at the feline's jowls.

"That was easier than expected." It spoke with hushed breath, although seemingly no words accompanied it. The trot of each paw across the trimmed, slightly dry grass, were apparently equally proud of themselves as the whole of the sizable beast could not contain its enjoyment of having spooked the woman. After all, an adult Bengal tiger had just managed to evade them again all while getting the better of them after a free meal. Food was not easy to come by and sneaking off with it every few days was not a minor feat.

It was payment after all, beating everything from petty thieves and carjackers senseless to pouncing a would-be intoxicated driver and swiping their keys wasn't free; tigers needed to eat too. That last one also paid for itself, given it ended in the "donation" of their refrigerator's contents, but the cat wasn't about to say anything about that. Now was the time to find somewhere to go yet again, as the odds of getting another meal wasn't likely without discovery, and the last thing needed was for people to realize there was an "invisible" tiger on the loose. Not that they would even believe it, that seemed too outlandish still.

But just where to go?

It would eventually reach its end, with a pair of small arms wrapping their way around Nello's white-cloaked neck. Feeling the soft, yet supernaturally resistant fabric against her, Sara, the young fan, tightened the embrace she had around the boy considered a hero. Yes, it was an interesting word, to say the least. Hero, vigilante, nuisance, each a description to identify those who picked up arms against injustice. A shield between those who would harm, and those who would flee. The scene displayed all around Nello as the girl ran towards her mother played out within the depths of his mind, a repeated thought which would eventually lower itself into a sad reality. He was quite aware of how media would spin this. They would point towards that girl, Sara, and consider Midnight, her hero, a bad influence. One day, she would make a stupid decision, and it would be his fault. 

For a brief moment, Nello allowed his eyes to lid, closing them as a gentle, inaudible sigh escaped his lips. This had been quite the spectacular event, and the unmoving frame of a lizard creature remained motionless on the ground. Midnight had not harmed him, in any permanent fashion. He would awaken, and he would know that metal bars separated him from freedom. "Hope it's not over, yet! Come on, let's find another asshole to beat up! Come on!" Came Nocturne's voice, ripping Nello back to the agenda at hand. Currently, it came in the form of a porcelain-wearing Frenchman. 

"Later," the boy offered with a simple statement, ascending to his feet, a gentle clang of his dark armor dripping out from where it was hidden, beneath that impossibly white cloak. "Fault Line is dealing with another issue," Midnight commented, answering this unknown vigilante's question with a vague response. He could not deny that the accent was quite entertaining. "And, what do they call you?" The boy began, as he turned to walk, simply assuming that Keandre would follow. Dramatically swaying in motion with Nello's movements, that cloak offered a soft sound of its own. Fabric riding against an incoming breeze. "I hear sirens, we better get moving."

Damien dodged the oncoming swipe of claws from a conjured beast and he retaliated with by throwing a fireblast at his foe. The ball of fire engulfed the beast and it gave a cry of agony. The large four legged reptilian creature jumped out of the flames and charged at him with great speed. Damien shot up into the air by propelling him with his fire. Once above the beast he breathed in deep and said the words of his spell.

"Dragon Jet!" he breathed out a jet of flames that shot straight at the beast and then it exploded upon impact with the beast. The creature was blasted apart by the jet of flames and Damien smiled at his victory. His eyes then looked around to see who was responsible for the beast's creation. He spotted a hooded man dressed in black robes hurrying away from the scene. Damien flew ahead of the fleeing figure and then dropped down and landed in front of him.

"Going somewhere?" he asked with a smile as his flaming hair burned bright. The man gave him a nervous vibe from his heavy breathing and he could feel his body temperature rising.

"S..stay back demon before I banish you into the abyss!" he heard the hooded figure shout with his voice full of nervousness. Damien knew that this man was bluffing and he laughed.

"Oh please, just give up and I'll make sure you go to jail with just minor burns" he said with a smile and raised his hand as fire started to engulf it. The man said words in a foreign unknown language and shot out his hand and fired a bolt bright blue lightning. Damien only had a split moment to react and he unleashed a massive blast of fire. The ball of flames met the lightning bolt and an explosion immediately followed. Damien was knocked off of his feet and he fell onto his back hard.

As the clouds of smoke started to clear he slowly got back to his feet and his his fire senses picked up on his foe's internal heat and soon the smoke was gone and he saw his foe standing on his feet with his robes burned from the explosion.

"Are you ready to give up? This is just getting ridiculous" Damien said with a roll of his eyes.

"Your arrogance will be your undoing spawn of Haelm." Damien was taken a bit by surprised at the sudden change in the man's voice. It was very deep and sounded inhuman and upon taking a closer look he saw that the man's eyes were pitch black with no pupils or irises visible.

"Who or what are you?" Damien asked and the robed man laughed maniacally.

"Ignorant fool. Maybe someday you'll find out, but for now I think I'll send you on a little trip. Farewell worm!" the man declared and then cast a spell that Damien did not recognize. In an instant Damien felt his entire body become racked with intense pain as he was pulled into a black vortex and disappeared from the outskirts of Dallas.

After a moment of pure agony Damien found him lying face first on a sidewalk with people giving gasps and cries of fright. He got up and looked around to figure where he had been sent to. He was in a city, but didn't which one until he saw signs that showed that who whatever that robed man was had magically transported him from Texas to Los Angeles California.

Damien could still feel a bit of the pain all over his body and he grunted trying to steady himself. It was an experience that he didn't want to have to feel again, but now he had figure what his next move was. LA was a long away from home.

---

Despite the size and momentum of the rubble projected throughout the bank, it would soon become apparent that relatively little damage had been inflicted. Dr Science proudly grinned, twirling around his fancy new weapon. How was this possible? Well, the Doctor was happy to explain. "Ha! This is no ORDINARY gun! Utilising a gravity-manipulating system of my own design it rapidly accelerates any object affected, then decelerates it to safe levels! With this technology I will revolutionise the transport of people and good, creating an economy capable of nearly instantly responding to changes in supply and demand. One I will RULE with an IRON FIST!" Dr Science's following manic laughter was interrupted by La Buitre.

"Little girl, this is no place for antics. Go back to-" Dr Science stopped, as he noticed the various spectral figures emerging from the shadows around the tiny necromancer. "Ah. Right. The hero who was already here." He frowned for a moment, before once more adopting his trademark grin. "Then let us see, girl, how your ancient voodoo arts handle the infinite power of SCIENCE!"

Taking a step back Dr Science readied his gun, adjusting several nobs and buttons. When he pressed the trigger the nozzle emitted a cone of blue light, like a high-powered torch. Everything the light touched was pushed backwards, as if by a powerful wind. The entire front of the bank shuddered as chairs, people, pot plants and rubbish bins were lifted into the air, tossed aside by the pulsing blue glow. La Buitre herself would find herself being pushed back towards the front door, which had been pushed open and was threatening to come off it's hinges. Even the ghosts were pushed back, or at least any ones that attempted to interact with the physical world. Luckily the weapon was indeed designed for safety, and impacts seemed to be much softer than one would expect. But despite this there would be plenty of bruises after this stunt.

"Behold, citizens of Los Angeles! Your heroes are helpless when opposed by the powers of I, Doctor Science! Once my drones are in place my spectacular inventions shall transport the bank vault directly to my lab, emptying out the entire bank instantly. And there is absolutely no way to stop me!" Dr Science laughed, his ray gun humming loudly as his amplified voice echoed out into the streets. And indeed, behind him the drones seems to be charging up to achieve something. For some reason they seemed to have a timer built in, which clearly displayed it would take another full minute before they were sufficiently charged to execute Dr Science's plan.

Dr Science, meanwhile, had his back completely turned towards Mr Gimick, who was free to do whatever he wished. Clearly Dr Science was preoccupied with his dastardly schemes.

Los Angeles, California
In Proximity To
@Shard@Prosaic@Count Cuddles

The roar of sirens in the distance was not exactly a strange occurrence in any of the city. That was one of the first things the tiger had come to reality with, that not everything and everyone was out to get them. Not that they were not, the slightest real evidence of a rogue big cat wandering the streets with people all about would evoke one significant response to say the least, the kind that made news headlines even if nothing at all happened. But it was really more the realization it wasn't always the sizable feline that was their impetus to appear.

That did little to stop the natural hesitation that came of freezing in place between a series of buildings to listen, as if a quarry had spotted the creeping ways of the beast. The nearest of the Predator's ears to the sound rotated in its direction, gauging the distance, even the speed with impressive precision, judging soon that all the coming noise was a fair ways away. Thankfully that was caused by the streets and the density of the people who lived in the city complicating it; the police just hadn't the same ability to get to wherever they were going with the same speed they had elsewhere. There was that bit about being able to hear or see them a great ways away with all the attention they drew to themselves too but the animal was not about to concede all of those minor details right now.

Instead, it resumed its soft pitter-patter across the asphalt, alarmingly quiet for something that made a large man look very tiny when they stood side by side. Instinctively those feet worked to avoid the small pools of water that gathered in the alley as it quickly surveyed the world vertical; a few fire escapes, ledges, but otherwise mostly wall with little foothold. After the curt surveillance, the tiger could not help answer the call of curiosity. Who and what was the source of the attention?

So with one vertical leap, covering over twice the height of the average man, the tiger's four soft feet landed it atop the first escape, which bizarrely did not so much as make a noise - the thought of "Light as a feather..." drifting through the Predator's mind, soon followed by, "As swift as the wind...". With sereneness ongoing, the five hundred pound cat leapt the equivalent of several stories and soon landed with the slightest of dull thuds atop the gravel packed roof, crouched low upon its legs, "... and as casual as the waves."

As it came, it was gone, soon walking over to survey from the low wall that cordoned off the ledge. It did not take long for the prying eyes of a watchful tiger to notice a distinctive movement that kept in rhythm with the wind and the odd pair it belonged to. Both appeared out of place and if the way they maneuvered was any indication, they had somewhere to be. One, with a vibrantly white cloak in tow, was the one that brought the attention forward, while the other wore some sort of strange, obscuring mask. In a way that tickled the animal at its core, it had heard of this before, that from its native land people did similar things to evade the ire of tigers. Was it that they were aware of the animal somehow?

Indeed, the media had displayed these heroes as less appealing, but it would be a fool's errand to consider every masked vigilante a welcomed addition to societal structure, and even less so, their image. Though the Frenchman echoed words so often mentioned on that television screen, 'more of a nuisance than he's worth', to be specific, Nello could not help but manage a soft chuckle. The two had made their way through a mess of people, a feature quite impressive in itself, considering their less than obscuring presence. A mystic knight and a mysterious, masked individual would scarcely work wonders in blending through the endless crowds of Los Angeles. Even so, Nello had managed to maneuver them into an empty alley, a vigilante's favorite surrounding. "Aren't we all?" The boy smirked beneath his helmet, that black visor completely obfuscating whatever rested within. However, considering the Frenchman's powers, Nello could imagine the chaos caused by him, when more effort was displayed. The man had managed little more than a party trick during Midnight's battle, an entirely conscious decision, no doubt.

"If this dude's gonna' blow shit up, perhaps some better attire would be preferable," came Nocturne's voice with a chuckle, "punch him in the face and see if that mask holds." Despite a rather crude way of expressing himself, the shade was right, of course. A porcelain mask, though indeed a notable work of art, managed little in the way of defense. 

"You have a team, or do you work alone?" Midnight continued, crossing his arms beneath that white cloak, the night black armor beneath, decorated with immaculate silver, hidden from any onlooker. The boy would remind others of a cosplayer, little more than a teenager dressing up in clothes far too expensive to be sold in any casual store. His height did little in aiding a less than intimidating presence, making it almost comical how the outfit, a knightly regalia, fit so perfectly on Nello's slight frame. Though his armor was quite clearly heard beneath the cloak as Midnight moved, one would not be too quick to note that the cloak itself was just as sturdy and just as resistant. He often referred to the flowing cloth as his 'shield'. "Backup can be a Godsend, in this line of work," the teen finished, causing the shade to groan at the word.

"Ugh, we don't use words like 'God' in this household! I'll wash your tongue out with soap, bleh..," Nocturne added with disgust. Indeed, aspects of divinity were quite dangerous for the two, and it was something Nello went to great lengths to avoid. The presence of a cross was troublesome enough, when outside his armor. He would never even dream of touching the accessory, not even with gloves on. "..Nello, I think someone's here..," the shade warned, causing Midnight to reveal his arm coated in a clawed, metal glove. A dark mist wisped past the appendage in response to the boy's motion, as if drawing a sword, Moonshadow appeared in his hand as the knight perked his attention. The blade was unlike most, its appearance unique and shape emanating a presence of absolute emptiness. As if he had grasped a bit of the void, itself.

"We're being watched," Nello finished, attempting to find the presence Nocturne had noted.

It’s very early and he only knows it’s very early because of how tired he feels. Like he’s going to fall asleep standing up. Lukas is staring at a very small bag of his belongings to take with him, the man he’s been sharing a cell with is up right now. He’s a bald man, the back of his head looks like a deflated ball, he gives him a gummy grin missing teeth in the front. He’s not sure if he’s excited or if he should be nervous about leaving. You don’t quite feel at home in this place. It feels alien and comfortable at the same time, sometimes the cold metal bars would make weird noises or you would hear whispering in the middle of the night concerned it was a conspiracy. It was cold in here. You’d think such a contained place would be warmer with all the bodies, but it isn’t. Yesterday was a busy day, making sure he had books checked in, already saying goodbye to at least some of the kids who transferred with him last year.

“Excited to see your family?” Jakobs ask, whenever he talked his mouth would make wet smacking noises, he always wondered if it had to do with his missing teeth. Jakobs one of the few adults that didn’t frighten him being here. Some of the adults were scary and hard to engage. Many of them had intense looks, expressions that made him nervous.

He promised others he wouldn’t let this place change him, though he’s scared it already has when the question hits him like overwhelming anxiety. He’s scared that Nadia or Robert have changed their minds about him. That the three years he spent in here, that Robert or Nadia started to believe the things they have said about him since he hasn’t been able to defend himself. But he knows those two aren’t like that. Yet, it’s the biggest worry he has.

“Yeah,” he forces a smile.

“You’ll get far, that’s what I always said about ya when you came. Seen it, said to myself kids going far,” Jakobs points at him and smiles. When a door is closed it echoes through the whole hallway. Resonating with the metal bars. The largest security officer he’s ever seen walks up to their cell. His heart is racing now and he can hear it in his ear. It makes his eardrum vibrate.

“Lukas Demaionewton,” the security guard, Mathison, addresses.

“That’s me,” does he sound desperate? He clears his throat, “I mean that’s me.”

Mathison just watches him, “You will follow me and you will follow every instruction you are given. Is that clear?”

Lukas nods as the bars are open. Just a little longer now and he’ll be outside. How much has changed? He’s pretty sure he’s not going to be seeing any hoverbikes, surprise you’re in the super future now. But the kids at their school, they’ll have their tales. The news might say something unpleasant for a few days, he’ll have to be prepared for that. He lets his feet drag, but with a slight skip following Mathison. Every door resonates with the walls. There’s a few others who have gotten up early to say goodbye to him. Connor’s some kid with some curly ginger hair that looks a bit like whipping cream sitting on top, he nervously looks over at him, “I won’t...forget you.”

That’s an odd thing to say. At least in the tone he says it.

“I’ll miss you too,” Lukas says, as they continue to walk down halls, doors, loud slamming. Till they stop in a room. He’s handed a shirt and a pair of pants. Robert’s probably pulled it out of the closet and handed it to the prison last night.
He’s just use to this. Here he's always watched even when you don’t think you are. He tried to abide by the rules, broke none of the rules and felt even more watched waiting for the moment he cracked. Slipping onto what is essentially his nightwear, Robert could have asked, sweats and an old sweater. Once he’s turned in his uniform he follows Mathison to the intake. The sally port is his last obstacle till he’s out and into Robert’s car.

“That sick kid,” he swears he hears before he’s standing before a window. A man with oval shaped glasses fixes them upwards.

“We have some paperwork for you to fill out,” the man tells him with little to no interest for him as an individual.

There’s a paperwork for how much he has earned from his job. There’s paperwork for a new fingerprint, his always turns out weird, a bit sucker shape, but no one seems to care. There’s another photo he has take for records or so he’s told. He’s eager to get out to the port at this point. All these formalities feel like it’s a prank, that they’re simply issuing him a new ID and telling him it was all a prank. The man thumbs twice through the paper. His heart is racing now. His chest is tightening. His eardrum is vibrating with the sound of his own heartbeat.

“Looks like everything is in order,” man says.

“That’s it? I can go?” Lukas ask.

Man doesn’t really emote, he just stares at him and makes a gesture to one of the guards to the sally port. It’s opened and he walks out, the last slam of metal he hopes to ever here. Squinting his eyes briefly, outside air. One not behind barbed wire. He’s looking for, Robert is leaning against the passenger side of his car and gives him a lazy wave.

“Was ‘fraid they were keeping you,” Robert tells him with a smile.

“For a moment, I thought they were too,” Lukas replies.

Robert nods his head, “Get in the car we shouldn’t loiter too long in front of a prison.”

He’s known Robert his whole life, but right now he’s feels distance. Shouldn’t there be more to them meeting like this in a long time?

“Nadia, didn’t come,” Lukas mentions opening the door to Robert’s tan sedan, noticing the backseat empty.

Robert just smiles, “Boy do we have something special for you.”

She’s at the apartment then. He wants to hug and kiss her, he hasn't in so long. They have seen each other during visiting hours, but it never really felt the same because this place makes you disassociate from the real world so much.

“One second,” Luka says turning to face the prison. Lifting up his middle finger high, “Fuck you prison.” Sitting in the passenger seat, buckling up.



“If the guards start coming out, you know I’ll have to let you go,” Robert jokes.

“Well it made me feel better,” Lukas says as Robert peals out towards the road, while Lukas fiddles with the radio in the car for the first time in years.

An advert plays, but he let’s it. He hasn’t heard something try to pander to the human lizard brain in years either.

Sound of someone sniffing the air.

“Oh, oh I didn’t notice you were there,” a woman’s voice nervously laughs, “I wish they invented smelling speakers, because you wouldn’t believe how unbelievably amazing my house smells.”

Takes a big whiff in.

“It smells just like peeling oranges,” she says, “I’m glad for my Spray and Scent plug in scentinator. It gets rid of bad smells and well.”

She takes another sniff and exhales, “You just feel a sense of oh what’s that word again, relaxing.”

Spray and Scent plug in scentinator. Just plug. It sprays. And well makes your house smell simply amazing. Spray and Scent sold separately from oils.

“I hate that commercial,” Robert groans.

“I haven’t heard it,” Lukas remarks. Roberts pulls a face.

“Right, sorry,” Robert keeps his focus on the road. Things feel awkward right now.The drumming beat of a radio station jingle begins to play.

“And welcome back listeners to the Dan and Jeremy show, it’s currently 8:30 am in the morning, traffic on the highway is fairly light today,” the hoarse, smoker voice of Dan plays through the speaker.

“So Dan,” Jeremy voice is lighter, a lot more nasally, “While we were on a break, a breaking news story was just posted on RightNews.net.”

“Woah woah Jeremy you can’t just plug in other people’s platform on this show, we’re not associated or affiliated with RightNews and they didn’t ask for us to talk about this,” Dan said, “It’s just so you to have your phone out while we’re on break.”

“What was I supposed to do Dan, listen to the Scent and Spray for the hundreth time,” Jeremy retorts.

“Okay, okay we’re getting off base here, what’s this article you want to talk about,” Dan responds.

“They are calling it the most controversial release ever,” Jeremy says, “Nineteen year old Lukas Dema-how the fuck do you say this last name?”

“Just say Newton,” Dan says passively.

“Is being released out of state prison, after his brutal execution of eight people three years ago,” Jeremy continues.

Robert’s hand inches towards the radio. Is he sick to be curious?

“Let it play,” Lukas mentions to Robert.

“But Lukas,” Robert says.

“I’ll be fine,” Lukas tells him.

“Perhaps we should fill in for the listeners who have been avoiding the news or have been living under a rock,” Dan says, “What roughly three years ago, a sixteen year old boy walks into a telecommunications company called Ion Communications. Right?”

“Yes, that’s right Dan,” Jeremy says.

“Kills the guards, and then executes-excuse the gross imagery here listeners- a man, bullet through the skull,” Dan continues.

“Yeah,” Jeremy said, “What I won’t understand is what motive the kid had, you know Dan. Michael Peterson was just a stereotypical guy like you and I. He had nothing associated to his name. Or it’s really well covered up annd this kid just goes in - murders a bunch of standards.”

“My theory on this Jeremy, you want to hear my theory,” Dan says.

“Go on,” Jeremy says, “Curious.”

“My theory is that when an Ultra gets their power it corrupts their minds turning them crazy,” Dan says.

“Genius, well said should work for the scientist,” Jeremy says.

“I know,” Dan replies, “Anyway, what’s your take on this dear listeners? What’s your view and take on releasing this monster back into-

Robert changes the channel. It isn’t how it went, he’s told people time and time again how that night went, but none of them ever believed him. Sometimes it felt like the criminal system, no that is exactly what the justice system was. Guilty until proven innocent. But who would provide the defense towards his case three years later? Robert only briefly glances at him.

“Look as much as it might sound fun, finding the person who did this to you,” Robert pauses, “I want you to focus on getting things straightened up. Get your GED, find a college, normal people stuff. Don’t let this thing define or consume you.”

Get your life straight? What a way to put it Robert.

“But we are going to find the person who did this?” Lukas ask him.

“Yeah sure,” Robert makes a face. It sounds more like Robert wants him to put all of this behind him. Not to mention it again. Allow it to fade into the background.

“You can tell me the truth, you don’t really want me to do so,” Lukas mentions.

Robert grumbles, “Let’s not talk about this. You just got out of jail and you’re already discussing about breaking more crimes. Just lie low for now. Have a few dates. Do things people do. At least for a little while. Can you do that for me?”

“Fine,” Lukas huffs and lies his head on the window of the passenger. He’s so tired from being up so early. He’s a little nervous going back. Going back to their apartment. Interacting with the people. Only so few believe he was telling the truth and listening to the talk show, there’s a lot of people who believe his guilt just because someone told them he was guilty.

Get your life straight, huh. Put it behind him. Never to try again. Not sure how he should feel about that. Or what is the right course of action. Of course he believes in balance, you can’t always be absorbed by your super identity and vice versa. To put it behind him. Lukas closes his eyes. To have a normal life. When they aren’t even human. What’s that mean? Once again everything is different while remaining the same. Like life changing events are in limbo, slow to register or process and the right decisions are obscure.

Los Angeles California- Streets
@Shard@Prosaic@The Harbinger of Ferocity

Faultline didn't waste much time after he had subdued the large Alligator man... reptillian? Well he wasn't sure what to call him aside from a soon to be locked away criminal. Another on a long list that kept giving Ultra's a bad name. As he stared down at his now unconscious foe his stomach twisted just slightly. Because tonight this would be on the news, tonight every young Ultra out there that you could visually pick out from the crowd would hear everyone saying how they are all the same... again.

Tonight each of those kids, some might say young men and women but they were still kids in his eyes, would have one more reason to stop trying as everyone waited on them to slip up and break the law, hurt people.

More than likely tomorrow someone would say the wrong thing, out of fear, and one of those kids would decide 'If they're gonna say that's what I am, might as well own it.'

So tomorrow one more kid would do something stupid and end up in trouble. The longer he looked at the Ultra in front of him, the angrier he got at the whole situation. A flash from a phone's camera at his side was what snapped him back to reality, as he heard the mixed shouts of the entertained and the thanks of grateful. But looking around it wasn't hard to pick out the silent stares of the fearful, the hateful and the simply pissed off. He bent down, energy coursing through his muscles allowing him to pick up the unconscious body and hold it over his head, step by step he moved him off the road towards the side walk, the display only caused the cheers to pick up as the crowd parted for him, and with a single heave he dropped the body against a store front, clearing the road.

He didn't take another moment, even as people called his name, some holding up phones recording and shouting questions he could hear the sirens, and he was curious about this other Ultra that Nello had run into.

So bending at the knees he lept up into the air, the feeling of the wind rushing around him as he began to fall back down was still exhilirating no matter how many times he did this. Just as he was about to come level with the buildings he began to focus the small amount of energy he had left over from the jump into his legs and landed, yellow energy discharging around him. Fault line turned and began to run down the street, again energy coursed up from the ground arching around his body. His speed began to increase, more and more till he began passing cars on the street, years ago he had learned to stick to the bike lane in this city, so few people used it, most just rode down the street or on the sidewalk so it was pretty much clear.

In just a minute or two he ran past the location of Midnight's fight, spotting the unconscious foe, he gave a quick nod in appreciation of the clean job and continued on, it didn't take long to spot the young man and he slid to a stop right next to the two young men.

"Well, not a bad job back there Midnight, clean and minimal damage, no limbs missing on the reptile either." The last statement was more a jab at the dark entities joy for cruelty. He turned his head to look at Keandre and smiled, holding out his hand.

"Faultline, wish I could give more of a proper introduction but when the mask goes on the name changes."

Location Unknown
@Shard@Prosaic@The Harbinger of Ferocity[@Angel of October]@thewizardguy@Weird Tales@EchoicChamber@LukasVolkov@Chiro

The sound of heart monitoring rang through the quiet and dark room, only accompanied by the slow inflation and deflation of an artificial diaphragm machine, providing air to the same man- no- he was less than that now, the fragment of a person that was hooked up to the heart monitor.

The terrible deafening pattern continued. His heart would beat, slow, and between each one the diaphragm would inflate, his heart would beat, and the diaphragm would deflate, with each one the pain of his breath reminded him of his situation.

How long it continued from the time he had woken today till it was interrupted he couldn't say, and how many days had passed uninterrupted were also a mystery to him, but then the door opened.

"Sir, the Satellite connection has been established, everything else is ready, the equipment for your broadcast is being brought down the hall now."

How smiling HURT, as his muscles pulled his dry cracked lips just barely farther apart, how jaw burned as it moved. How his throat ached around the inserted tube that pumped air to his lungs. But it was fine, this particular pain, the pain of a smile was one he hadn't felt in so long and today finally the deafening pattern would not continue as it had for so long, finally things were going to begin...

He spoke, his voice did not match the weakness of his body, a swelled pride rang through it, though it shook with the exertion of speech. Though the pain to push the air out to form the words was something indescribable, he spoke.

"Finally, the step towards a new world, sit me up. It's time the silence was broken."

Damien's mind was alight with trying to figure out what had happened with his foe. He had to have become possessed by some powerful entity, the personality change and lack of fear clearly showed something had changed. Damien had been tracing attacks on Dallas from summoned creatures and he had traced the beast to the conjurer and where their fight had happened. Now he was certainly not in Dallas anymore and instead was right in the middle of downtown LA. He had only been to California once and it was to San Francisco. He wasn't a fan of Californians, they seemed snobby and entitled elitist to him.

He looked around as some of the people stared at him shocked and curiously thanks to his sudden appearance. He decided to start walking and find an alleyway to slip into. He quickly found one and hurried down it. Once he was sure that he was hidden from the prying eyes of the public he cast his disguise spell and his appearance changed from his demonic form to a casual look. He short red hair and bright green eyes and his robes were now pants and a white shirt with fancy looking black shoes.

The illusion was very detailed and he walked out of the alleyway and blended into the crowded streets of LA. He decided to have a look around before doing anything else, maybe there was a specific reason for him being transported here by the possessed conjurer. LA was huge and the sight of it all was nearly overwhelming. Then the thought of other superheroes being located in the city crossed his mind and he decided that it would probably be a good idea to look for them. He may be able to find his answers when he found them.

Los Angeles, California
Obscure Alley
@Shard@Prosaic@Count Cuddles

The sheer sleekness of the pantherine form was displayed artfully in the motionless tiger, where its ears had folded flat back to the skull, and its eyes peered watchfully just over rim of the last brick. It was virtually indistinguishable from any other random subtle feature of the brickwork, let alone a rooftop and one of the few times its camouflage would have been in its favor. Yet that seemingly predatory intensity was betrayed by one clue the cat gave away, as the very tip of its long, narrow tail twitched from side to side; a sign of curiosity and thought.

This came, as it rightfully should have, the moment some dark, blackened blade appeared in the hands of the leading person. Predator's eyes dilated and became more intense, all of the cat loaded like a spring put under pressure in response. Yet rather than springing into the fight or out of danger, the striped animal eased its tension as another joined them. This one was as ornately dressed as the first, not as subdued as the one with the mask! The high contrast of their colors, yellow upon black, conjured immediate emphasis - aside from them sliding in after sprinting, yellow glow in tow - on who this personality was. Yes, these were "ultras", at least two of them were and the third probably was not feigning either.

There came a blink to the tiger's eyes, not that it needed to as it was sincerely capable of staring for hours on end, and soon the whole of the cat limbered up and came to laying, as if nothing had ever happened. One moment a cocked hammer ready to strike, the other now mostly a thing possessed of wondrous inquisitiveness. Granted it did not profile itself, not that it could regularly have even been seen, habits were difficult to break regardless, but now it merely sized them up.

The last member of their little trio had simply, with a slight limpness to them, shared a handshake following a draft from their flask. All in all, they seemed less alarmed than before. So perhaps it wasn't the feline that had their attention. For Predator this, alongside the other details, was good enough reason to cruise back behind the rim of the building and draw closer. Seeing was not enough, listening was important too, and all the ambient noise of the environment did wonders to drown out the benefits of having such sharp hearing knack. This all would find itself resolved as the tiger bounded with little effort from its perch down on to the next roof, avoiding the metal conditioning units and fragile solar panels for the rubberized coating.

Now within a short ways from their little enclave hidden away in the alley, it loomed over them, head ever so slightly canted. This was too good of an opportunity to learn about them, as at least one seemed remotely familiar; the outfit was, if the felid had it right, the same it had seen in passing in a paper. Then again costumes were not totally unheard of by many and from this angle it wasn't clear really just what the rest of it was adorned with. What was evident and on the wind was the scent of metabolized alcohol, which made the tiger glint with a pearly toothed smile.

"That explains a bit now." The wordless mouth uttered to itself, the overgrown roofwalker coming to lay down and allow the frontmost paws to hang clean off the ledge.

Fault Line's entrance would perhaps have been considered a spectacular distraction for the entity retaining this trio of heroes within its glare. With Nello's blade vanishing, as if thinning mist, before the dark remnants of the artifact blew away in the wind, Midnight breathed a soft sigh of what could only be taken for relief. "Oh," the boy spoke, his ghostly, metallic voice trickling through the shape of a mystic helmet, "it was just you," the knight finished. Nello's attention proceeded to gaze its way across the various rooftops Los Angeles offered from where the three stood, earning not a sight of what proweled across the height of the structures. 

"Ugh, getting jumpy," Nocturne added, the shade's voice knocking at the back of Nello's mind. It had grown to be a comfort, in a way, knowing that the spirit was always there, always watching. Though their initial relationship had been quite a rocky road, so to speak, one filled with much discomfort and an inability to view the mental guest within Nello's mind as little more than an intruder, the two would eventually grow closer than one could possibly have expected. Yes, their relationship was quite an uncommon sight within the spiritual community, where a boy and the shade possessing him held feelings for one another comparable to the deepest emotional bond. It was endearing, in a way, and the thought of solitude was quite terrifying for them both. They had grown attached to the notion of sharing a frame, despite Nello maintaining complete control over each motion. "Oh and yeah, nice and 'clean', Nelly-Belly. Next time, why don't we just bring a pillow and throw it at them? Oh wait, we can't, it would break! If we were supposed to use our fists, Nello, Moonshadow wouldn't be able to SLICE A GOD IN HALF!"

Leaning against the wall, Nello knocked an armored knuckle against his helmet, the boy's voice responding to something others could not hear. "Stop screaming," the teenager stated calmly, "we do things the good guy way."

"You said 'boring' wrong, babe." Nocturne finished, with a pout, causing Nello to manage a soft chuckle. The two were an interesting pair, indeed. Where Nocturne was the darkness cast by night itself, Nello was the light offered by a bright moon. They completed one another, for sure.

"Fault Line, I should head home. Dad's been obsessing over.., something, and he hasn't been eating. Don't know what's wrong with him but..," the teenager sighed, shaking his head, "I need to make sure he doesn't end up killing himself." Nello stated, a tinge of frustration in his voice. No teenager at sixteen wanted to be put in a position where they were forced to nurse their parent, and while many were shepherded into such a position due to medical reasons, Nello's father was simply obsessed with research. It was a choice, a decision, one which caused a notable amount of frustration for the Egyptian boy. 

With a casual wave, Midnight moved around the corner of the alleyway the trio had considered a safe haven, if only just temporary, his armor fading in a mist of blackness following the motion of an incoming breeze. Pulling a hood over his head, Nello's eyes squinted as a response to the sunlight, his razor teeth clenching at the infuriating rays coating his stone colored skin. A heavy weight was immediately placed on his shoulders, as the boy's enhanced strength vanished with the light whipping onto his body. Luckily, he did not live very far from where the trio had hid, and the walk home would only warrant twenty minutes of sunlit suffering. 

@The Harbinger of Ferocity@Prosaic@Shard

Obscure Alley- Los Angeles- California
Faultline only gave a knowing nod to Midnight as he left. He would normally offer the boy a ride home, but with the entrance of this new 'Eclater' figure his priority fell to figuring out if the young man's presence was a boon or bust for the city. Besides he hadn't known Nello to long, and pushing into the kids family life to quickly would just cause problems.

After he was sure his young protege had traveled far enough to be out of ear shot he turned to the young fire starter he stood before. Though the boy's powers were still a bit of a mystery to the older hero. The boy's hand shake had been more than a little limp, a bit disappointing, Faultline believed you could tell quite a bit about a person from how they shook your hand. What he gathered from this one? The Ultra before him was probably very relaxed, to the point of being lazy, and was probably more in the 'hero' business for something to do rather than stand up for something. However he knew better than to judge completely off of something as surface as a hand shake, so time to get to work.

"Well, being watched or not, welcome to LA, I've never heard of you, definitely haven't seen you around so I'm guessing your new to the city. So uhm... that mask, rest of the outfit not unpacked yet or is that it?"

He'd see if he could learn anything about this newcomer, maybe take him around the city today to keep an eye on his behaviors. On top of that, find whatever was watching them, if Midnight had sensed it, then there was more than likely something and it definitely hadn't been Faultline.


Down Town- Los Angeles California

Something was watching Damien, creeping along behind him in the shadows, a presence that carried an air not of this plane. A mystical presence from across the veil.

It detected the sense of magic and its hunger sparked, following the scent to Damien, a lush meal, that seemed more than unsuspecting... but it needed to wait, it was being chased and there were to many eyes here...it would stalk and it would wait.

One would be forgiven for mistaking this most humble home for a library, or even a museum. Ancient trinkets, tomes, and scrolls lined the dark, wooden walls with the scent of parchment clearly lingering with stubborn intent. Each step brought a slight creak to bare, despite Nello's slight weight, his feet bringing him past the countless stacks of books and artifacts neatly rowed throughout the home. One could almost consider it a fairy tale lodge, something taken from the pages of a story, or a movie set in a mystical sanctum of knowledge. This was Nello's childhood, his life, the young teenager moving with purpose as the otherwise many hinders were a common addition to the architecture, for him. Like a wisp dancing through the darkness blanketing a thicket of trees, Nello's weightless movements echoed a motion of grace as he turned, twisted and lowered himself in response to the many obstacles appearing only inches from his frame. "Baba?" The boy's voice pierced a dim coating of light laying its shape across the Ishtar living room, "weynak?" Nello continued, asking for his father's whereabouts. 

"Probably nose-first in a book, somewhere," Nocturne offered with a roll of his pristine, white eyes glowing brightly within the shadowy interior. They were as if diamonds reflecting the light of the sun they shunned with an undying hated. 

"Mmh..," Nello responded, accompanied by a soft sigh. He proceeded through the house as his thoughts traveled. The boy's father spent most of his time in the man's study, but when the possessed creature noted his absence, Nello's attention shifted to the circle on the floor. It would be fair to chastise him for not noticing it, beforehand. However, the body clearly visible in front of it, caused the boy's heart to fall into a pit in his stomach. "D-dad..?" A shivering, trembling voice trickled out of Nello's thin, grey lips, his legs growing weak as the situation dawned on the teenager. Gulping, the boy attempted to move closer, noting that the circle was drawn in blood, several curious symbols situated in a position to form its shape. Surrounded by books on spellcraft, rituals and the occult, Nello was able to note that his father had been reading about the occult quite a lot, lately. 

Up until this point, that is, where he laid, unmoving and cold like the darkest winter night. Though the man's hands were cut and displayed the obvious reason for where this most morbid art had sprung, it was not that which appeared to have snuffed the very life essence from his body. Indeed, the once healthy middle-aged father seemed to have been drained, sucked dry, as if his very age had been ripped from his being and left the man a shriveled corpse. An addition to the many ancient artifacts in the home, to say the least. 

One could safely claim that for Nello, the world appeared to stand still, his gaze fixed on the husk before him. Nocturne's words flew past the boy, despite the shade's hands finding home upon his shoulders with the spirit's bright, diamond eyes meeting Nello's own. Shock, it was a term this teenager had never been able to understand as well as he did, at this very moment. It was only when he fell to his knees that the teen's trembling frame managed a whimper, before another, tears forcing themselves out of his dark eyes. "Nello!" Nocturne's attempts were finally breaking through, "A seriously powerful presence has been here. We need to fuck off, now!"

Falling on deaf ears, Nocturne's warning passed the boy by without managing a single motion from the teenager.  "Wh-what happened..?"

"That's a binding ritual!" Nocturne pointed at the blood drawn circle on the floor, "your dad summoned something from Tamura, and fucked up. He failed the spell, and it ended up killing him!"

"D-dad..," Nello tried, reaching out for the man before Nocturne clenched his fingers around the boy and pulled him back to his feet. 

"Whatever he summoned is still here! I can feel the power, Nello, it's fucking insane. We need to leave, we need to leave right now!" 

Paralyzed, gripped by fear, shock, and absolute chaos, Nello was unable to move. His wide, grief-struck eyes met Nocturne's, unsure of what to do, or how to act. Though instructions had been laid out for the boy, he was forgiven for displaying symptoms of overwhelming turmoil. A slap to his face was, however, enough to snap the teenager out of his paralysis. "I..," came a weak utterance, before Nocturne phased past the boy, tugging him along.

"We can cry somewhere else!" The spirit finished, finally able to drag the boy with him, and out of the house. With wet cheeks, Nello ran. He did not know where, and he had no destination to speak of. He simply ran, unable to see five feet in front of him due to the mist coating his eyes. What would the police say? What would the investigation yield? It was clear, and documented, that Nello Ishtar was an ultra, an inhuman creature to stain this planet's surface with his presence. With no other culprit, who else could they blame? The nature of his father's death was anything but natural, and as Nello continued to run, his legs growing tired beneath the beating sun, he finally dropped and plummeted into a vacant dead-end alley on the streets of Los Angeles. The smart option would be to get the police, but they were not suited to deal with this, and those who were, would clearly blame the ultra who had been living with the victim. Crawling towards the wall, Nello balled up, hugging his knees as he began to cry. Though a pair of spectral arms embraced him, allowing this situation to find a stable rest within him would demand time. He could not return home, and he most certainly couldn't let himself be taken to an orphanage. What remained? Albert? Considering the murder of Nafir Ishtar, Nello would be a highly attractive attraction for both the media, and the authorities. Albert was likely the best option, despite a reluctance to put the man in such a position.

Los Angeles, California
Obscure Alley
@Prosaic@Count Cuddles

"Are you as concerned with the idea of being watched as I am? It is a very ominous prospect and one I am not keen to."

The Frenchman was not wrong to feel that subtle, uncomfortable rake across his subconscious; it was that primal element, that ambient and arcane, really unknowable if one was to best summarize it, experience for being watched without any eyes seeming to be on them. In some ways it was likely the same sort of mechanism that gave people the perceptions of hauntings, that pervasive discomfort. Also the very same kind that pulled the ears of the lurking tiger forward, as if attracted by the conversation, then snapped them back until they were flush with the rest of the sizable animal.

Those idling paws that sat at the lip of the rooftop overlook tensed their toes, each fleshy pad gripping more firmly the brick. The Predator at this point could not help its sizable curiosity and was confident that with one less potential foe, assuming this went so wrong, its odds of escape were better. Evasion was one of many talents it possessed, both innately and through mighty thought, but overconfidence would be potentially dangerous. It knew it needed to know, so it found itself down the face of the wall, rear legs kicking it off like a medalist swimmer.

As though an animal decidedly longer than a man was tall hadn't just sailed through the air, the tiger landed mere feet away at the depths of the alley. The only thing that stirred was a puddle, which gave a faint splash. As its shallow pool rocked with little waves, a strange phenomena began to manifest. What first was clear was that something left... tracks? Perhaps that was the most adequate description, no less ones that were coming closer, ones that at in this same time stirred the puddle once again ever so slightly. Then they stopped.

The abruptness of the stop quite plausibly was tugging on those previously present notes of ambient horror; that somehow in the daylight overcast only by the buildings, the sensation of being watched had metamorphized into the presence of something unseen being right there. Not only was the foreigner right, they were terribly right. Chance would have it that it was not some sort of inebriated daydream warping perception and reality either, so even such a hopeful fantasy was sailed clear off the face of the earth.

There after came the seeming suddenness of a tiger, standing right in the very place the closest steps had been. How, why, when the tiger had appeared was not even within real registration, other than the fact it was suddenly there; all five-hundred pounds of orange, black, and white feline. Upon its face was perhaps one of the more animated looks a cat could offer, let alone one of that size and so uncomfortably human. It looked upon Eclater for a disquietingly long period, as short as it realistically was, before on to the heavily costumed Faultline wherein the expression became less severe.

"Well, you weren't wrong to be."

It replied, without so much as a slight twitch of its muzzle, not even down to the whisker.

---

Although Mr Gimmick wasn't one to ignore a banter, this was the perfect time for him to escape. La Buitre and Dr Science both had great potential. They were something this world rarely saw anymore, a proper hero and a classic villain.

But before leaving, Mr Gimmick went behind the counter, took two pieces of paper and wrote on them.

The first piece of paper he stuck on one of Dr Science's drones



Next he sneaked to his suitcase, took it and noticed one of the skeletal hands moving about. Silently he dropped the other note in it's bony palm.

"Give this to her" He whispered.



Then he tried to sneak though the front door and into the car, hoping to speed away before the two stopped their hamming.