Myrtle Gardner - Wallƒlower

"Starbucks on a rooftop... yes, yes that sounds nice," Myrtle agreed dreamily, smiling. "Oh! Let me get my things first," Myrtle said, suddenly remembering her belongings. She dashed over to the bushes, grabbing her bag with her civilian clothes and tucking it under her arm.

Kotov motioned her to follow, and Myrtle was quickly back at his side. They walked a little together and he stood by a circuitry box, and as she approached he had a sort of mischievous grin. "You sure you want to come with someone you just met, eeeh?" he teased.

For a moment, Myrtle froze and her eyes went wide, pupils dilating. She clenched her fists around the strap of her messenger bag, looking down at the ground. He was right--it was the stupid and reckless thing to do. Her dad would kill her if he found out. But when Myrtle looked back at his charming blue eyes and his smile, her heart fluttered. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and nodded.

"I owe my life to you...the least I can do is give you a chance," she decided, smiling shyly and offering her hand.

@The Man Emperor

Kotov snickered as Myrtle pretty much agreed to go and have some Starbucks with
him on a rooftop, even though he was, at this point in time, a total stranger. They had just seen each other for the first time literally a few minutes ago. Granted, he did save her life and the other girl's, but being too trusting was a flaw that he was already seeing in this new heroine. Hmmm..

"Alright then.", he said as he held out a hand. "Hold on, just like before."

For better or worse, Myrtle fell victim to her heart and her hormones. She was swept away by this man's charm, handsome face and gorgeous eyes, and even just the fact that he would pay her the time of day-- and to think, he saved her life! If she were to die after this, at least she would go out after being happy for the first time in her life.

"Okay... I trust you," Myrtle breathed, almost a whisper, as she put her life in his hands.

A jolt of electricity immediately passed through Myrtle's body as Kotov turned both of them into an electric current, an azure streak that would travel faster than the speed of sound through the wires that brought power to every home and establishment in New York City. After a few moments, they were out on a rooftop on one of the city's towering buildings. Over here, they had a rather good viewpoint of the massive urban sprawl. Best thing was that there was no one else in sight, so this could be a private conversation.

"What kind of mix of the coffee do you prefer?", Kotov asked. "I'll be having Vanilla Sweet Cream Cold Brew."

As her hand neared his, sparks flew between them, and as they connected, they were gone--Electricity buzzed though whisked miles and miles away. Although they only reformed a few moments later, Myrtle was left buzzing, heart racing, and she didn’t even know if it was the man or his power that did it. Was this what love at first sight felt like?

As the stars cleared from her mind's eye and she came back to earth, new stars came into view--only they were lights, not stars! Before her was one of the biggest cities in the whole country: New York City.

“Wow… it’s so beautiful,” Myrtle said in awe as she stared out at the seemingly endless cityscape. She turned to look Kotov in the eyes, blushing. He didn’t kill,the girl thought, a little surprised. He was keeping his word.

“Oh I… I would like a pumpkin spice latte, if you could please.”

"Nice.", Kotov nodded as he once again disappeared in an azure flash into the lightbulb that was their exit point a while ago. A few minutes would pass, but he would soon be back, carrying the drinks. "The barista is a friend of mine.", he said, handing Myrtle the pumpkin spice latte.

With all of that settled now, the young man reclined back on the concrete barrier that kept people from falling off the edge. There was no denying that he was charming, even by his looks alone, and looked even better while sipping at the cold brew that he brought for himself. "So, how long has it been since you triggered? Is anyone... training you?"

"Ah... thank you, Kotav..." Myrtle smiled and took the cup gratefully into her two hands, simply holding it. She had sat herself down on an edge of the building and was gazing out over the horizon, watching tiny cars and tinier people scurry about. She moved to sit with him against the barrier, sitting close enough to touch. She sighed contently and took a moment to breathe in the scent of her drink, a then cautious sip.

"I triggered just a little while ago, umm... the last Thursday of September. I was hiking alone and I crossed paths with coyotes. It was stupid--I was stupid," Myrtle admitted, embarrassed. "I never had anybody to hike with me... definitely nobody to train with," she confessed, tears welling in her eyes. "I'm lucky I haven't died yet..."

Kotov gasped as she started crying, apparently not minding that Myrtle was close enough to touch. "That's just seven days ago...", he said himself. "Well, what's important that you're still live and kicking. It is no coincidence that I found you when I did..."

A pause. "Want to take a guess on how long I had these sparks?"

"No coincidence, huh?" Myrtle half chuckled, half sniffed, leaving her smiling and pink once again.

She dabbed her eyes with a napkin then looked back, trying to take him in. Facial hair, strong build, mature voice, and an air of confidence, and he seemed so at ease and in tune with his abilities. And then, of course, he was the son of Shockwire. Nth Generations were said to trigger more easily, so...

"How about... early high school?" she asked, tilting her head and raising her brows curiously.

"Middle school, actually.", Kotov answered. "A friend of mine was being bullied by this thick senior jock, and I wouldn't just let him just get pummeled." His expression changed from his usual cheerful mood to a sober one. "I electrocuted him, accidentally."

Kotov sighed at that last part, as it would soon be clear that powers like his own are extremely dangerous to other people, and he knew this better than anyone else. "Those were the worst days of my life. I couldn't go out to school anymore without fear of shocking my friends, and trying to do online classes often led to me shorting out the device. Took me a whole year to be able to be tune with my abilities. Even then, I was scared that I couldn't give my friends a hug without causing something bad to happen. I was dangerous, and I still am. But you... you have more 'safe' powers, if I can call them that. If my guess is right, you should be a piece of cake compared to me."

"Oh, Kotov… I never would have guessed," Myrtle murmured. She put her cup down and then, hesitantly at first, put one hand on his arm.

"My powers… I make plants grow… and I can feel limited sensations through them." With her free hand she took a single seeds from her pocket. She closed her eyes, and a moment later a stem sprouted, leaves grew, thorns formed, and a beautiful pink rose blossomed in her hand.

"When I first triggered, I had trouble hiding it at home and school. If I got sad… or angry… nearby plants reacted. But it's kind of a slow working power, and nobody cared enough to notice," Mytle confided, staring vacantly into her newborn flower.

Kotov sighed as he looked at the rose Myrtle had willed to grow on her hand. He looked genuinely happy as he looked at the pretty flower. So much so that he was beaming.

However, now was the time for the next thing. "One more thing, Myrtle. You don't just trust anyone that offers to help you. You're in luck because even though I don't consider myself a hero, my dad is, retired as he may be. He taught me many things about being a good member of society. Also..."

Kotov chuckled as he poke Myrtle a little bit. "You're crushing on me, aren't you? Don't deny it. It's very obvious. HAH!"

"Hey! I am not, hehe!" Myrtle giggled, covering her sides protectively. She looked a little down and to the left, smiling and blushing--a telltale sign of her lying.

She looked back up to Kotov and his handsome, mischievous face. "Okay, you got me," she admitted quietly to herself as well as him, shifting to play with her hair.
You don't have to return the favor… It's just that I'm, um… and well, you're so…mm..." Myrtle stammered, twirling her hair more vigorously and looking away as she got more embarrassed.

Kotov laughed. "Nah, it's cool. I get that a lot. This wouldn't be the first time. Where do you live by the way? I might have brought you too far..."

The pink faded from Myrtle's face and she relaxed a little, leaning just a little against Kotov. At the very least, he didn't seem bothered by her crush.

"I live back in Manchester. To be honest, this is the farthest I've ever been from home," she told him, looking to the sky. She picked up her latte and took a sip, grateful for the remaining warmth.

"Your life must be amazing...The whole world is at your fingertips," Mrytle said, smiling.
"Where do you call home?"

Kotov looked towards the sky, smiling. "Oh, good. I also live in Manchester... though I work here in New York."

Seeing and feeling this apparent stranger lean on him was... strange, to say the least. Sure, he was the touchy feely type, but not towards people he just met. This one, though, had apparently fallen at first sight. "Maybe I should get you home soon, Kotov said as he took in the rest of his cold brew. "But not before we exchange numbers."

Sure enough, he was showing her his phone, with his contact details on the screen. He apparently wasn't keen on making this thing a one timer.

"You want m-my phone number?" Myrtle gasped. "Of-of course!" Myrtle excitedly fumbled into her bag, bringing out a pen and notepad. On one page she jot down his details and the other, she wrote down hers. She handed it to him, smiling, her heart racing. "I really hope we can meet up again, to talk or train together... you have been wonderful to me... "

Koto scoffed. "I'm wonderful to everyone, really. But yeah, we'll see each other again. Maybe if you need help with going into a house fire again. Hehe!"

He then stood up, holding out a hand. "Whenever you're ready."

Myrtled giggled at his tease, blushing.  She had to admit, it wasn't a safe call. She was actually making a lot of unsafe calls. But in her heart, she felt it was all worth it. 

She got up from her seat by the barrier, leaving her rose on the ledge, glancing over the beautiful cityscape one more time. She smiled dreamily, thinking of possibilites. 

After dropping her trash in a nearby can, she joined Kotav by the lightbulb the arrived from. With a deep breath she closed her eyes, smiling, and took his hand .

A few moments would pass as Koto brought Myrtle along into the power grid. It was just like before; a dark vision, full of stars flashing past. And now... they were back in Manchester.

One look at Kotov, though, would see that he was panting and catching his breath. Doing the electric transformation a few times a day tends to drain energy quite a bit, after all, and now, he was about to retire for the night. "I guess you gotta change to normal clothing now. And I got to go back to work..."

Myrtle's heart fluttered as she came back to reality. Each jump was like an electrifying dream, intoxicating almost. She beat her eyes a few times, clearing the stars from her vision. 

But when she saw Kotov, she was concerned to see him breathing heavy, physically exhausted. She squeezed his hand, not yet ready to let go. "Yes, I should be going soon, but.. but will you be okay?" she asked, worried for him.

"I just need to take a short break.", Kotov responded. "See you around, I guess." He then tapped Myrtle on the shoulder as he began walking towards a house, which apparently belonged to him.

Myrtle watched, in a daze, as Kotov started off toward what was most likely his house. Was this a sign? Was that tap on her shoulder an invitation? Her heart pounded and she wavered a bit where she stood, her body warming with her thoughts.

As he disappeared behind the door, Myrtle came to her senses."No," she whispered. "I'm a good girl, and I should go before I do something I shouldn't…" she trailed off, sighing longingly.

She turned away, running off as Wallflower back toward home.

"Blood..."

Ray looked over the darkened alleyway, kneeling over a visible track of drops of blood that led away from the burning building towards the shadowed paths. A few minutes ago, the fire department had pulled over to the building as reports of the structure going up in a blazing inferno began to spread all over the neighborhood. Most peculiar of all, however, was the plentiful track of blood that made it look like someone who was bleeding a whole lot came out of the place and went somewhere. The firefighters knew Madjick; he was a local hero around here who had saved quite a lot of people a few times already, sometimes with the help of a lightning elemental that seemed to emulate the powers of the retired Shockwire. They pointed him towards the bloodied track, as it would take the police a bit more time to reach the place.

Madjick walked rather briskly, unsure if the blood let to an injured person or someone who had covered himself with the blood of the deceased. After all, the sound of screams and gunfire had been here a while ago according to a few witnesses, and that meant quite a few different things when put in accordance with a bunch of...

Ah, here he was.

There he was, a rather tall, and imposing man wearing knightly armor, and... he was covered with blood. The tracks led right to him.

"Whose blood is that?", Madjick asked with a tone of urgency as he pulled all six hands into existence. They were all glowing red; an indication that they were ready to fire.

Myrtle Gardner - Wallƒlower

Wallflower's heart soared as she ran through the better part of the West Side, plants healing, growing, and blooming in her wake. She jumped over a fire hydrant, bound across a rock wall, and twirled about a street lamp pole. Even after all she went through today--the fire, her burns, almost dying--today was the best day of her life.

As she ran, the world transformed around her. Trees and grass and flowers disappeared, giving way to barren land and towering buildings. Gang tags and graffiti covered every little dilapidated surface. Street lights flickered. In the distance, shouting and sirens could be heard. Regardless, Wallflower ducked into one of many dark alleyways and emerged a few minutes later as meek little Myrtle, with her costume tucked inside her bag. She looked this way and that, careful to make sure nobody was around to follow her. Soon enough, she made it back to her crummy apartment building and locked the door behind her.

"Oh, what a day..!" Myrtle exclaimed, exhausted and yet exhilarated. With a smile on her face, she went around her home closing the her window blinds and giving each of her many houseplants a misting of water and a boost with her power.

Now it's time for this flower to be tended, Myrtle thought, referring to herself. She removed her shoes, placing them by the door, and quickly threw her costume in the laundry to be washed. She then had a light meal of salad, not wanting anything too hot after her adventure.

The girl slipped into the bathroom, stopping in front of her mirror and closing the door behind her. Slowly, gently, she began removing her clothing piece by piece. She checked herself over from head to toe, running her hands along her tender skin and winching at the tender parts. First degree burn at worst, Myrtle determined, sighing in relief. But her heart sunk as she looked at her body in the mirror, her pale skin turned gray, red, and pink. Specks of ash were caught in her blond hair. A black smudge marked her nose and cheeks.

Myrtle turned the water on, taking care to make it cool enough to soothe her burns. She stepped in and reflectively clutched herself in pain as the water stung like needles on her fresh wounds. Water turned dark as it ran down her body to the drain. She stared up into the spray with her eyes closed, taking the pain. Light and water would rejuvenate her, if she would allow it.

Breathing the misty air slowly to relax, she ran her fingers through her long hair. A shiver cursed through her body and soon her toes and fingers almost seemed to tingle with flowing energy. She sat down on the shower floor, wrapping her arms around her legs, hugging them as the water pounded her back seemingly drifting off to sleep.

With the flick of a switch, the workshop began to wake up. Lights illuminated a once spacious room that was now jam packed with several large machines, computers and work tables and a few seconds later the quiet hum of machinery replaced the silence with white noise. Brian shuffled into the room with a cup of coffee in his hand, setting it down on a work station covered with scattered papers, intricate metal tools and half completed bits of tinkering before collapsing onto a stool.

He picked up a remote from amidst the mess and pointed it at one machine in particular before pushing a button, the large, squat device noisily coming to life. One after another, it began to churn out block after block of dull black metal, depositing each into a container on a shelf within the machine; this was the material that was used to create pretty much everything he made as a Tinker. A metal that, for some reason, had a kind of memory that could hold onto blueprints and a limited ability to move when exposed to a certain signal, while at the same time being durable enough for use as a building material and light enough not to be cumbersome; a truly miraculous material that, so far, only he had been able to produce.

The fabricator that created it was by far the most important thing he had been able to build so far, but it was noisy, slow, large and prone to breaking down; he wanted to improve on it, he had filled a notebook with ideas on how to do so, but to do so would mean taking it apart and rebuilding it from the ground up. Doing that would mean that he wouldn’t be able to rebuild his armour or weapons after he next dismantled them, as he wouldn’t have the material to do so, which in turn meant he wouldn’t be able to go on patrols until he was finished with the fabricator again.

The PRT wouldn’t allow that. They wanted him to stay useful, which meant dealing with what he had. Fixing it when it broke and improving what he could.

Once the container was filled up enough, he would carry it over to one of the other machines and place the metal inside, before setting the machine to create the various pieces of armour that made up his general combat suit. The constructor could only manage one thing at a time and could only hold so much material at once, meaning he had to make everything one at a time; it was also in need of an overhaul.

The PRT wouldn’t allow that. Same reasons.

All in all, the process took about six to eight hours just to make one full suit of armour, depending on how much of the material he was able to save from his previous suit. That suit would be used on his next patrol or the next time he responded to an incident, after which he would need to dismantle it, collect the pieces, and then begin the process all over again. More incidents meant more times he had to use his armour, more times he had to rebuild it, which added to his workload, so he usually kept a few spare suits around in case he didn’t have the time to finish his work. It was either that or go into battle without it; not that that didn’t still happen sometimes.

That was just for the simple stuff of course. The armour pieces were made entirely of his special material and didn’t require manual work to integrate it with electronic or mechanical pieces like some of his gear did. His helmet, for example, needed to be made by hand; slowly and carefully placing the blocks that would make up the helmet around the visor that formed its centrepiece so that it would be aligned correctly and build properly. Any mistake could mean damaging the visor or his own skull when the helmet formed itself around his head.

His weapons, turrets and drones were the same, albeit without the threat of crushing his skull. The more equipment he used in a fight the more work he had to put in preparing for the next one. In a way he was lucky that he was assigned to a smallish city like Manchester instead of a place like Boston or Chicago; there was less Cape activity here, meaning fewer fights and less work for him. A smaller city also meant a smaller Protectorate team and he was similarly lucky to be the only Tinker for the time being. It allowed him to dominate the workshop with his cumbersome, oversized and noisy machines without having to be a bother to anyone.

Finishing the last of his coffee Brian looked over at the clock and made a note of the time; seven hours until he was scheduled to start his patrol, which should give him enough time to finish his suit, visor and weapons for tonight. He might even be able to create a drone or two if he worked quickly enough; he was running low on those.

----




The silent alarm had been tripped and Pre-Fab had luckily been close enough to be on the scene in a matter of minutes. As he stepped through the front door of the museum, meeting up with the security guards inside, the blaring sirens made it clear that the non-silent alarms had also been triggered.

“Can someone turn that thing off?”

As a guard hurried away to the security room to do just that, Pre-Fab began walking deeper into the museum. He had arrived quickly enough that the culprit might still be inside and the security seemed more than happy to defer to the hero on the scene and allow him to proceed ahead of them. Fine by him; it was one less thing to worry about.

The alarm finally cut out and the museum descended into a silence broken only by his heavy steps on the hardwood flooring. As he moved he reached down to his belt and pulled free two small spheres, maybe the size of a tennis ball each, and dropped them to the floor; upon touching the ground they each unfurled themselves, revealing long legs and a singular lens attached to a square body. They could be described as spider-like were it not for the fact they only had four legs.

He gestured with a hand and the two drones skittered away into the dark corners of the exhibit, crawling up walls or into vents as they began searching the area for any signs of heat or movement. If anyone was here then they would find them and alert him. If not, then he had just wasted an hour’s worth or work.

“This is Pre-Fab of the Manchester Protectorate!” If his clunky movements hadn’t already given him away, then his shout certainly had. “Make this easy on yourself and turn yourself in!” They never did, but now that they knew who they were dealing with they might be more inclined to reveal themselves, either to himself or to the drones currently searching for them.

@Eviledd1984

---

Lance has a certain spring in her step as she skipped along the mostly deserted street, all to aware of the sirens calling out their desperate whales into the night, blue and red splashed against the walls of the buildings they passed by, casting a soft light over the girl as she moved along. Perhaps she could watch the blaze. Maybe do some work while she was at it. If the police and emergency services were so occupied, it meant that the scum of the streets would be more active. At the thought, a slow, broad smirk crossed her face, concealed beneath the strip of fabric covering the lower half of her face.

As she approached the scene, her fingers drifted over the knives dangling off of her hips, finger tip tracing the curve of one of the sheathed blades, ready to draw it free and send it singing through the air with pinpoint accuracy. Her tongue flicked over her lips. This would surely be a fun night.

Her pace slowed as she drew closer, her gaze drifting to a glinting wet patch on the floor. Of course it wouldn't be rare for suspicious liquids to be found in the alley, but this was different. Red, and not just from the lights of the emergency vehicles. Blood? Looked like someone had gotten way ahead of themselves. So long as they were at least harming the correct people, she supposed she could let it slide. They were assisting her. A hero in their own right, though that would be decided when she got to the bottom of the source.

Dropping a sleek metal board from her hand, she let it drop to the ground, the clatter of it drowned out by the screaming sirens close by. Stepping over the plank, she slowly lifted her hand, drawing it up beneath her before slowly pulling it off there ground, her mind focusing on the action as she was slowly sent up into the sky, board bobbing closer to the edge of a roof before she lept down off of it, drawing it back into her hand. It required enough focus that she didn't use the board often, but still convenient enough for her to carry it with her.

Lowering close to the rooftop, she slowly started to jog along, gaze down on the street below as she tried to follow the trail of glistening blood, though it seemed she didn't need its help. Voices. Voices were good.

A man in armour. Unusual, though then again everything that was going on in that moment was unusual. A man bathed in bloodied armour, and another man surrounded by five crimson palms. That was certainly an unusual sight. Hopping over to the edge of the wall, she quickly sat down, her legs swinging idly as she gazed down at the two, mild amusement caught in her dark eyes.

@The Man Emperor



Templar

William Akinson made his way down the fire escape; and was about to make his way out of the alleyway and towards the street. However he was stopped in his tracks by a figure; he studied the man in front of him. He looked and acted like a hero; so he was not going to pick a fight with this person. However he would need to choose his words carefully; this one seemed to be in cohorts with the police. Turning to face the hero he was grimacing underneath his mask; “This is the blood of the wicked; they were punished accordingly for poisoning the innocent” He did not think there was an issue with his logic. Even though the more appropriate solution would have been incapacitated and bringing the criminals to the police.

Gripping the handle of his sword in case his explanation was not satisfactory; “I do not wish to cause any more issues; however I cannot be imprisoned as I have much work to do” Standing his ground and not making any sudden movements. There were indeed other criminals and other unsavory beings.

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@King Cosmos



Verdrehte

The young thief cursed himself for being so sloppy and having the alarm going off; “Kuso (Fuck)” He muttered under his breath. Quickly rolling up the painting into a long round container; wrapping the strap over his neck. Moving towards the kitchen of the staff room; mostly hiding in the shadows to avoid detection from the guards. His plan was to go through the staff room and through the kitchen into the docking area where the food would be delivered via truck.

The young man was making his way towards the kitchen using his powers to get through the vents into the docking bay. Having noticed that his method of escape was compromised; noticing the small spiders crawling in the vents with him. The thief quickly crawled out of the vent and towards the docking bay; once there he caughted into a disguise as a homeless person. Pulling out a dirty knapsack of some kind and putting the painting inside of it; starting to walk out of the back of the building and into the alleyways. He wanted to get as far as he could away from the situation.

Madjick scoffed at the elder knight, unmoved by the latter's seemingly hyper-idealistic statements, and disgusted by the notion that the world will be made right through blood and murder. To him, such people are set towards a dark path, one that would eventually lead to them becoming the very thing that they sought to destroy. Through the belief that the ends justify the means, the meek become proud, the righteous turn evil, and even the greatest of paragons become devils in their own right. This is how so many villain stories began; in their quest t eliminate evil, they too become evil, and that by no means is helping the world by any mean.

He then uttered the next words with poison and malice; a calm crescendo of speech that betrayed a sense of honor and a propensity for being good, and also an utter disgust for this kind of beliefs. "I think there is a lot of things you don't understand, sir." Four of the six hands glowed with a cyan shine, indicating a change of some sort. "There's this thing called the law, and those who want to make the world a better place abide by it or will go down a dark path that will eventually end in darkness and death. In your quest to destroy the villains, you too will be a villain. And because of that, I, Madjick, will stop you. Here and now. Before you become what you hate."

As soon as those last words left Madjick's lips, cordlike whips made of energy shot out of the four cyan hands, while the crimson two remained stationary, ready to fire when ready. If the whips made contact with any part of Templar's body, they will stick like glue, and would have to be cut off with a blade.

As the whips surged forth, Madjick spoke again. "Don't make this harder on me, or yourself!"

The drones did their job in locating the source of the break-in and managed to confirm that it was a robbery at the same time. There was always a chance that this was a false alarm, a guard tripping the security by mistake or an electrical issue for example, but seeing as how there was a guy in a mask crawling around in the vents it was most likely a heist of same kind.

The thief reacted quickly to being spotted and managed to escape from the drone’s sight, but not before Pre-Fab got a look at where he was going. He began to make his way towards the rear of the building and the loading dock that was used to take exhibits in and out of the building, redirecting both of his drones in that direction at the same time.

It wasn’t easy to move quickly in all of his armour, even with the artificial muscles doing their work, and by the time he made it to the exit the thief had already made it outside. He sent his drones out again, one scurrying down the alleyway and the other scaling the outside of the museum towards the roof; he didn’t know what this suspect was capable of other than the fact that the vents were too narrow for a normal person to be able to crawl through them.

That meant Parahuman.

An alert flashed up in his visor and he brought up the drone’s camera feed to take a look. He saw what appeared to be a homeless man, dressed in dirty shabby clothing and carrying an equally worn backpack with him. That was all he saw; the rest of the alley was clear as far as his drones could tell and the roof was clear as well judging by the lack of alerts from the other one. He didn’t exactly want to arrest a potentially innocent homeless man who could have just been at the wrong place at the wrong time, but given that he was dealing with a Parahuman with unknown abilities it was better to be safe than sorry.

If he was wrong, then he’d have to explain to his superiors why he had attacked a homeless man. If he didn’t and the thief got away then he’d have to explain why he had let the person go. It was a lose-lose.

He ordered the drone to attack, which in its case meant throwing itself at the target and attempting to wrap its arms around them, and redirected the other to the same location with the same orders. At the same time he began to run in that direction, drawing his shock pistol on the way.

@Eviledd1984

@The Man Emperor



Templar

William Akinson stared the hero down; “I am no villain; i would never harm a man, woman or child” The knight gripped his sword a bit harder; but before he could further explain himself the other hero started to attack him. He felt the whips attaching against the gauntlet of his armor; Quickly cutting the whips with his sword and looking quite annoyed. “If you will not help me get rid of the filth that poisons our streets; then you should stand down and not get in my way” The knight held his sword high in the air; the sword soon became electrified.

The tall knight rushing forward towards the hero, wanting to press the underside of his sword against the hero’s body. Attempting to electrocute him; and hopefully knock him out or knock him onto the floor. If successful then he could make his escape though the alleyway; if he was not successful then he would have to try and counter attack the hero.

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@King Cosmos



Verdrehte

The young thief luckily had found an empty vodka bottle in the hallway; which would help with his appearance of being a homeless man. However he became worried that his disguise was compromised when the drones from the museum was starting to attack him; He quickly used his acting skills to pretend to being a homeless man. “Kami wa sore o kokuhyō shimasu. Watashi kara ori nasai. Watashi ga kōgeki sa rete iru no o tetsudatte kudasai. (God damn it; get off of me. Help me i'm being attacked); Help me help me; i’m being attacked” He yelled out loud waving his arms back and forth. The bottle being waved around above his head; the disguised villain running towards the streets.

He could see civilians staring at him; in the back of his mind he wondered if he could besmirch the heroes by making it look like this hero attacked an innocent person. The only thing that connected him to his crime was the painting inside of his backpack; so he would have to play it cool and not bring attention to his knapsack. Using the vodka bottle to try and swat at the drones; while screaming for someone to help him.

adjick stood his ground as the knight chopped off the energy whips that he had sent forth against him. Unwilling to give up the fight so soon, Madjick had all the hands switch to a fiery crimson color as the elder knight began his charge. He would not reveal his Duality move, no, not yet. That would serve as a trump card if the bloodied knight refuses to give up the fight. Instead, four of the six hands that he had summoned moved to block the assailant's attack path with focused heat beams; if any of those struck, they would do little actual harm, but rather, they would knock him back a few good meters away. If none met their mark, the other two that were being kept in reserve will fire a withering barrage of hardlight bullets. Madjick had no intention to kill the other, only to bring him in…


Whilst Lance had been watching the whole debacle that was happening below with much amusement, something was stirring within the shadows. A reptilian hiss could be heard in the midnight air as a pair of clawed hands materialized from the darkness on the rooftop; a hiss that would be an all too familiar sound to those that had faced the leviathan that stalked the night of Manchester. It was the growl of the Void Dragon; a boogeyman of the dark that sought for prey at midnight, intending to feast upon a hand or two. Or to merely cause fear and mayhem. Either way, as Lance watched the fight, the Void Dragon let out an animalistic scream as it lounged towards her from behind...

Pre-Fab let out a sigh as he finally caught sight of the suspected thief, already able to hear the frantic yelling and see the concerned and confused civilians at the mouth of the alley. Despite the shouting and thrashing around the drone continued trying to subdue the ‘homeless man’, wrapping its long legs around his torso and trying to pin his arms in place and as Pre-Fab watched, the second drone dropped down from above to join in the attempt as well, tangling itself around the man’s legs. Neither machine seemed to care about his protests or cries for help, they were too dumb for that, programmed simply to follow directions.

Slowing to a walk now that he had the situation in sight, Pre-Fab raised his pistol and aimed it at the struggling homeless man. “Stop moving. Let them restrain you and you won’t be harmed.”

@Eviledd1984

@The Man Emperor@King Cosmos



Templar

The large knight was knocked backwards a few feet away from the hero; stumbling onto his back onto the dirty alley floor. Slowly getting back up; his armor was rattling as he sat back up and got back up onto his feet. Picking up his sword and slowly holding it in front of his face; It seemed this man was so adamant to not let him leave the area. However he could see to the left of him a door into the building beside them; he could break the door and try to escape. But he was a knight and knights do not leave the battlefield; it was cowardly and he did not want be dishonored.

His sword becoming covered by the cement underneath them; being covered in the hard rock. Running towards the hero; swinging his sword at the hero’s head to try and knock him down. If he was not successful then he would try to grab the hero’s throat with his armored hand.

-------------------------------



Verdrehte

Verdrehte in his disguise was failing around seeing the hero coming towards him; During the commotion his bag was slowly being squeezed. The thief was starting to become worried that his painting was going to be crushed. However he was not worried about the money once the painting was sold; he was more worried about being caught and not being able to get the thrill of stealing. With the drones resist him he looked up at the hero with a grimace. “What the hell are you thinking; attacking a homeless person. Don’t you people have anything better to do then to harass me?” Wiggling around and seeing a small crowd of people gathering to watch the commotion.

He could see some of the crowd members holding phones recording; Thinking this could work in his favor. “Now let me go goddamn it” He yelled out glaring at the hero.

Myrtle Gardner - Wallƒlower

Myrtle stood atop a mountains at night. It was beautiful, serene. The moon shone brightly, the stars twinkled and wispy clouds breezed past. The air felt like a warm blanket on her skin. Leaves rustled and her hair danced in the wind. It was perfect. She didn't need friends. She didn't need family. All she needed was nature.

But then, a howl pierced the night. A shiver ran down Myrtle's spine and she stood stock still. She wasn't alone. A pack of ten--maybe twenty--coyotes surrounded her. It was right at that moment that Myrtle realized how small and alone she was. She was going to die right then and there. She would be devoured right then and there. Nobody knew where she was. Nobody cared. And nobody would ever look for her.

"No... leave me alone," she warned the approaching dogs, meekly. They growled, barred their teeth and came closer. "I... don't want to hurt you!" she spoke up, more urgent. She raised her hands out toward the dogs, willing nearby plants to grow. They began to sprout from the ground and wind toward the coyotes. But the dogs paid no heed. They stepped on or over the vines, coming closer.

"Please, I don't want to hurt you! Please stop!" she called out to them. The coyotes barked and howled, then leapt toward her. She reached for her power, tried frantically to get the plants to help her as the dogs came toward her in slow motion. Their eyes glowed red. Their roars and howls got louder. The snapping jaws got closer, and closer, and closer...

"Uughh... nuuh... noo...NOOO!" FWUMP!

"Ahh! Wha.. what happened?" Myrtle asked herself as she came to, sitting up on the floor, tangled in her white sheets, illuminated solely by the moonlight that came through her blinds. Her heart was racing, her hands were shaking, and her body shivering as she held the sheets around herself. Her eyes darted around the room, feeling as if something was lurking about. But nothing was there. She breathed deep, and then breathed out.

Myrtle crawled to her nightstand, still wrapped in the sheets, and reached up and out to switch the light on. For a moment she was blinded by the light. She rubbed her eyes and blinked a few times, adjusting. When she could finally see, she untangled herself from the blankets and got to her feet.

"12:11!" Myrtle exclaimed, viewing her alarm clock. She frowned. On one hand, she was feeling exhausted after the fire. On the other hand, her gut was telling her something was wrong. She needed, wanted sleep. But no matter how much she tried, she knew the nagging feeling inside her would keep her awake. So Myrtle sighed and turned around to check out the rest of her room in the light.

The room was almost unrecognizable. It was a jungle. Her potted plants and flowers had overgrown out of their pots and spread across the floor and were winding up the bedposts and furniture. And yet, this was such a familiar scene. She took a pair of hedge clippers out of nightstand and got to work.

---

About half an hour later Myrtle had a garbage bag full of plant clippings by her apartment door, her costume on, and her messenger bag restocked and ready to go by the window. She opened the window up, letting a chill autumn wind blow in. She took a deep breath of fresh air, and soon was bounding through the streets of Manchester.

Finally, the knight met his mark, striking the side of Madjick's head with his cement covered sword, knocking the hero down to the ground. Madjick fell towards the cold alleyway's concrete, landing on his shoulder with a rather loud thud. However, he was still conscious, and grumbled as he tried to get up. He couldn't, though, as he was already tired from his work all day, and trying to bring this self righteous crusader in had sapped the rest of his strength. Instead, he just lay there, the hands that he wielded being rendered inert and silent as Ray just breathed heavily. His head was, after all, swimming in pain from getting struck with a sword covered in rock. Knowing that neither of them were interested in killing the other, he just spoke to the knight.

"You.. huff... win tonight.", Madjick coughed as he finally got up and then lazily leaned back against a nightlight post. Quietly, the hands went away as Ray receded into a fetal position, tired from their brief altercation. "Just know that next time... there will be no more holding back." With that, he motioned for Templar to go with his head. Ray supposed that he could let this one slide for now, but next time, he won't be alone, nor would he hold back.

"Kotie? Yeah... I need somewhere to crash tonight. Can you fetch me here...?"

Myrtle Gardner - Wallƒlower

Wallflower ran aimlessly, her cape flapping in the wind and her feet pitter-pattering on the ground. She didn't know where she was going. She didn't know why. But something inside her was telling her something was amissl--and she wanted to find out what.

She found herself investigating the worst part of the West Side. Even worse than own sketchy neighborhood. She could smell smoke and hear sirens not too far off. Fire... again? Myrtle thought, stopping in her tracks. She almost turned around, feeling her burns burn. But no. She clenched her fist. These fires were no accidents. Something was up, and she was going to find out what.

Firefighters were working hard to stop the spread of a massive fire in an abandoned apartment building, paramedics were loading a stretcher into an ambulance, and cops were investigating the crime scene, many standing near a body bag. A trail of blood was leading into a dark alleyway. Wallflower, not yet acquainted with with local police force, decided to sneak around the block.

As she approached the opposite end, Myrtle began to hear the sounds of agitated male voices, and shortly thereafter the sounds of clanging, banging, and scuffing feet. A feeling of dread welled up in her heart. This was a bad idea, but there was no point turning back now. She snuck a peak around the corner into the dark alleyway, seeing a small dark figure with a sword engulfed in flame, his hard features flickering in the red light, and coming closer. Even further away was a figure slumped against a lightpost. For the briefest moment, she swore she saw hand-shaped spectres floating about.

Wallflower ducked into a corner and dropped a seed from her hand, willing it to surround her in its branches. She stood still, holding her breath, as the stranger walked past. Was he a hero? Glints of red covered his silver armor and drenched his sword. Somehow, she didn't think so. She hoped the other man wasn't dead.

A minute or two passed and the coast seemed clear. Wallflower simply lifted her un-rooted bush aside, and stepped out of her hiding spot. She gulped and cautiously head toward the man on the ground, keeping to the shadows.

As she got closer Wallflower saw what appeared to be a hero, going by his purple colored trenchcoat. His face was rough and bearded, giving him a sort of sorcerer or wizard vibe. A little blood trickled down the side of his head and he had a phone pressed to his ear. Wallflower smiled in relief as he seemed to be alive and had help on the way.

With nothing for her to do here, she quietly go up and started back the way she came.

Pre-Fab lowered his pistol as he saw that the man was no longer struggling, physically at least. Things already looked bad enough, restraining an apparently harmless vagrant with people pointing cameras at him, he didn’t need to add him aiming a weapon at him to the mix.

He ignored the protestations of the man and raised a hand to his helmet visor, tapping the side of his head to send a signal back to the PRT that he might need assistance soon. No one would be sent out just yet, but letting them know now meant any response he did ask for would arrive quicker.

“You’re suspected of being involved in criminal activity and are being placed under arrest. You can either allow yourself to be searched here or you can wait until some officers arrive to take you to a cell somewhere.”

Having to act like a severe, professional authority figure was probably the weirdest part of being a ‘hero’ to him. Despite looking the part, it really wasn’t who he was. He’d been a businessman a few short years ago, albeit a terrible one, not anything like the pseudo-law enforcement he was now.

“Play along and you’ll be released shortly, or keep shouting and this harder on yourself; it makes no difference to me.”

@Eviledd1984

@King Cosmos@The Man Emperor



Templar

Templar kept his grip on the hero’s neck; he could see his face becoming quite blue which meant he was losing oxygen. When the hero finally admitted defeat he released his grip he sheathed his sword backing away. “You are quite a formidable opponent; i look forward to our next battle” The knight bowed his head towards Madjick. After the pleasantries he walked away down the alleyway passed the hero. Walking down the street making his way back towards his HQ; while walking down the street he noticed another hero reinstating a homeless man.

Walking over and behind the hero; “Good evening sir; what has this civilian done to warrant being arrested?” He asked not caring that he was covered in blood. If anyone asked he would say that he was fighting some drug dealers; and that he is a hero new in town.

----------------------------------



Verdrehte

Verdrehte stopped moving for the time being; he was becoming increasingly worried that he could be caught. Relaxing his body as the drone wrapped their cords around his body; his eyes moving towards Pre-Fab and then towards the new hero covered in blood. “Oh great another crazy trying to play hero” He thought to himself. He didn’t want to be searched or taken into custody by the police; the only opinion he had was to try and escape his bonds. The only issue would be that if he did that; then he would be outting himself as a super.

“Damn it” He muttered using his powers to break his shoulder, arms, and legs. Trying his best to get out of the drone’s grips; reattaching his bones to try and escape. If he was able to escape the drone’s grasp; he would try to run away making sure that he had his backpack with him. His goal would be to run far enough so he could change disguise and head back to his HQ.

Just as it had seemed that Wallflower was going to leave the alleyway without being seen by anyone; the nearby power line crackled to life. An azure streak, one that had been very familiar to the people of Manchester ever since the day that Shockwire had announced himself as a hero within the Protectorate, writhed through the wiring like a snake of lightning, travelling in such a blinding speed that it was almost as if it was a shooting star. Madjick stood up and leaned on the wall of the building on the left side of the alley, as the lightpost's shining glare began to intensify from the streak's passing.

For a moment, there was a humanoid shape emerging out of the light post, a lightning elemental that quickly assumed flesh as it was no other than Kotov, the man that Wallflower had met literally this night, and by the looks of it, the good friend of Madjick, or, Ray Clayton.

Madjick coughed as Kotov knelt over him, checking him for injuries and what not. "I was wondering how long it would take you to get here..."

"What did I tell you about preserving stamina, Ray?", Kotov said to him as he put his hands and arms under Madjick's body, before hoisting him up to carry him in a manner that could be likened to... hmmm... a bridal carry. "It's already past midnight, and you know that is when the Void Dragon prowls the alleyways. That thing already has eaten three people in the last two months..."

"My head still hurts. That blood covered knight with the flaming sword was one crazy lad."

"Yeah, yeah- hey. You."

Kotov frowned at the figure that was walking away, trying to remember if it was familiar person. It didn't take him long to recognize her, though, as the green cape was something that he had just seen not so long ago. "Myrtle Gardner, what a pleasant surprise..." It would be a rather awkward sight, though, seeing as he was carrying his friend...

Myrtle Gardner - Wallƒlower

Wallflower froze dead in her tracks, mid step, and she swore her heart stopped a moment. But then, a flutter. Could it be... Kotov? she wondered, his voice fresh in her memory, but this seemed like such an odd time and place to hear it.

She twirled on her heels, hands in her pockets, tensed but ready for a fight in case a Stranger or Changer was playing tricks on her. She squinted back down the dim alleyway. There she saw him standing in the light with his charming grin and the wounded cape comically held in his arms. With her doubts put to rest, she took her hands out of her pockets and relaxed, then trotted toward them. Although one couldn't see it well in the dark, she wore a slight blush and embarrassed smile. She didn't like getting caught sneaking around.

As she came closer, she glanced around and put a finger to her lips, in the classic 'shush' symbol, to remind him that her identity was supposed to be secret. "Hi, Kotov.. it's nice to see you so soon... although I wish it were under better circumstances," she spoke quietly as she approached the two men in the light. She imagined the poor hero had a splitting headache after all he went through. Myrtle met eyes with Kotov briefly before looking to the wounded man.

"Is he going to be okay?" Myrtle asked with a concern in her voice. She furrowed her brow and bit her lips with worry. Her hands were held subconsciously up in front of her chest.

The poor guy looked worse up close in the light, than from a distance. His eyes were closed and he wore a pained expression. But if it weren't for the blood, dirt, and discoloration, she believed he would be rather handsome.

"I saw the smoke, and heard the commotion--but the fight was over by the time I arrived. I would have helped if I could..." she trailed off, feeling guilty that she was actually about to leave the man to fend for his own, not even making sure his help arrived. It was not very heroic of her, in retrospect. Myrtle promised herself that she would be better about that.



@The Man Emperor