Cold.

Dark.

Images flashed and screams echoed through Roanna’s head. She was sitting on some sort of sheet of cold metal in nothing but a nightgown. Looking at her reflection in the metal underneath her, she was able to see only a child, no more than four. The child’s eyes seemed to look right through her soul, tugging at her heart in a pathetic attempt to grasp for her attention. She was looking down at the girl as if watching from afar…but she and the little girl were one in the same. Roanna could feel her lips moving, though not a single sound was uttered. She touched her fingers to her lips, trying to get them to stop but the movements were not her own. Coming in closer to the little girl, Roanna was able to make out the lip movements…

‘Stay. Awake.’

Stay Awake? Was she dead? Or dying? Was this was dying was like? No heaven nor hell, just the cruel empty shell of your own life, forcing you to suffer through things you didn’t even understand? Roanna felt her arm reach out to touch the little girl, and the little girl extended her own nimble, shaky fingers. Their fingers almost touching, and yet miles apart, the little girl mouthed again,

‘Stay. Awake!’

“Stay awake!” Roanna felt her eyelids flutter open; above her a group of blurry men seemed in a hurry as they bustled about her, muttering incoherent things to one another. But as Roanna’s consciousness finally began to stabilize, she realized that she was moving. Roanna was being lifted up off of the cold and somewhat blood-stained locker-room floor and placed onto a stretcher only to be carried out by two men while two others tried sticking her with needles and bands. Roanna sat up, her head pounding but she made an effort to wave them away.

“I’m fine, I’m fine.” She kept telling the medics as she was being carried outside. Amber lights filled the night-sky as the stretcher was brought outside, the entire parking lot filled with cop cars, fire trucks, ambulances…hell even a few swat vans.

“Roanna!” Roanna swiveled her head as one of the medics continually tried to force her to lay down. There was a flash of blonde and suddenly Stephanie had wrapped her arms around her best friend. She was shaking slightly, and Roanna couldn’t blame her. It wasn’t every day that your school got shot up with you in it.

“You did good Steph. Thank you.” Roanna said sitting up, wrapping her own arms around her friend into a tight hug. With a smile, Stephanie broke the hug and handed Roanna some blue wadded up fabric. “I found your dress out in the hall, I figured you might want it back…”

“Excuse me miss, but we need to take your statement now.” One of the medics said, clearly annoyed that Stephanie had interrupted the way they do things.
Statement? Shit.

“I was out in the hall talking with a boy when they first came in, one of them snuck up on us and knocked my friend out…” It nearly killed Roanna to call Jakob a friend. “then he went after me. He took off my dress, trying to…well…have his way with me but I guess the leader wanted him in the gym because next thing I knew I was being carried to the boys locker room. There was an explosion, the car I think…my leg got hit. I guess the man kind of took pity on me then because he offered to cover me with his own clothes. Next thing I remember you guys were here…”

The story was full of holes, but Roanna sold it, taking up the mantle of ‘scared shitless student’ and made it believable. Again, she shooed the medic away that was trying to take her temperature.

“Please, I just want to go home.” She said and Stephanie took the hint, putting her arm around her friend and helped her off of the stretcher and onto her feet. Roanna leaned heavily on the blonde, unable to put any weight on her leg what-so-ever and the two started walking towards Stephanie’s jeep.

“Wait! Why was your blood in the locker room?” One of the medics called out.

“I threw it up. G’night boys.”

Stephanie helped Roanna into the front seat of her jeep and then got into the drivers side. Still shaking, she started up the car and gripped the steering wheel tightly.

“You’re a moron you know that? You could have died in there! What the hell really happened to your leg?”

Roanna sighed, leaning her head up against the window feeling her eyes threatening to close again.

“I’ll tell you everything once we get to your house. I need a hot bath...and a drink...”

IllAdvised

---

Tuesday October 8, 2013

---

About four days had passed since the night at the Homecoming Dance. While police had several of the thugs in custody, those who lived, the leader had somehow managed to escape in the end and all leads on the who they were working with or for seemed to have completely evaded authorities. Cal leaned back at his desk, holding fresh bandages in his mouth while he read the police reports he had hacked into. Tossing aside the spare bandages, Cal leaned over and picked up the rest of his Chinese take out, picking away at it with his chopsticks while perusing the rest of the police report.

So Fox-Face managed to get away? Cal mused to himself. If that's the case, then he's gone to report to someone. And if Fox Face has gone to report to someone then there's something bigger going on. Throwing the container in the garbage, Cal sat up from his desk and looked around his room for some pants. There was actually a lot more of interest in the report that he had noted. Quite a few of the gangbangers had been found dead by means of a very large caliber sniper rifle. That meant either there was someone else playing vigilante or the school had been caught in the crossfire of a rival gang. And then there was the truck that had been driven into the school, despite it being blown up -another mystery- the gas pedal had been held down by a rock not a person. That lead back to just who blew it up? Police found no evidence of a bomb at the scene nor the appropriate kind of rounds for the shooter to have done it. Despite all that, everything that happened on Friday had given Cal some ideas, ideas which would require him to purchase some new clothes. Turning back to his computer, Cal checked the progress on his Amazon order. Working with Makarios had made Cal realize that perhaps there was a lot more going on in this world and more specifically this city than anyone had even realized. If people with abilities like those in comics existed, then Cal could be a vigilante. His still was a day away from arriving but that was okay, Cal had other things to take care of.

Pulling a shirt on, Cal ran his fingers through his hair making it presentable before tossing a coat over his clothes and walking out the door. School had been dismissed for a week due to the damage to both the school and the emotional states of a lot of students. Cal couldn't say he minded, he was already done most of his semester projects and quite frankly after seeing Makarios in action the last thing he was interested in doing was sitting in a classroom. Pulling out the keys to his Volvo, Cal ran out to the parking lot, opening the car door as he hopped into the driver's seat with a slide. Pulling the car out of the lot, Cal headed towards the Fishery District, driving for nearly fifteen minutes before he pulled into a Storage Rental facility. After driving down a few rows of storage units, Cal stopped outside one as he pulled out a key, unlocking the door in front of him before lifting it above his head. Inside lay a generator, a desk, and a computer waiting to be set up.

"Not much yet." Cal muttered to himself as he looked around his headquarters. For only ninety seven dollars a month, this nine by nine foot room was his to have. Going back to his car, he opened the trunk as he lifted out some more equipment and a couple cans of gasoline, loading it all inside the unit. Closing the unit back up, Cal ensured his lock was in fact locked before getting back into his car and turning the Volvo back towards the city. It was time to go find Makarios and see what he was up to.

---

The sound of bone on bone echoed through the room as Fox Face, or Jaime Gomez as he was known without the mask, toppled to the ground, the chair he was bound to splintering beneath the force of the blow. The dimly lit room barely was able to outline the silhouette of the hulking man who had delivered the punch as a hand bigger than Jaime's head reached out towards him, pulling him off the ground and into the air.

"You couldn't collect so you thought what? You could just skip out of town?" The voice that belonged to man bellowed as he threw Jaime across the room, his body slapping against the wall of the warehouse before slumping to the ground. He could feel his ribs pop and fracture upon impact as tears streamed down his face and blood began to dribble from his mouth.

"No Tony it wasn't like that!" Jaime begged as Tony 'The Behemoth' Cleaver came towards him menacingly as his two massive hands reached out and hoisted Jaime back into the air.

"So what was it like? You got scared? You took the money and you hid it? You lost my men Jaime!" Tony yelled as he slammed the much smaller man against the wall.

"Metas! More of them! One moved like an animal and some other one made a truck explode." Jaime managed to spit out despite stammering like an idiot.

Tony snarled as he slowly lowered Jaime to the ground. "If you saw these Metas again, would be be able to identify them?"

"I didn't get a good look at them boss." Jaime said with a gulp realizing his life was probably at stake right now.

A low rumble escaped Tony's throat. "Get some more men, we're planning a heist. And this time don't screw it up, you owe me more money than you're worth to keep alive if you don't succeed this time. Oh and we'll you're at it, I hope you can draw out your 'metas' otherwise you're dead no matter what you do. No body lies to the Behemoth and lives to tell about it." With a loud slap to the back, Tony sent Jaime stumbling across the room before plopping himself down in an old ratty armchair. Pulling out a cigar, he lit it up blowing out a deep breath of smoke as the dim light went out.

"High Calibre Rifle Shots." Locke quoted, throwing a photo of bullet holes at Cassie from across the table. "Several dead." He continued, throwing down another photo, this time of the thug Cassie had shot through the neck. "Precision shots." He finalised with, throwing the rest of the photos along with the entire police report, shots of the criminal she'd hit through the temple spilling out, and one of the now hand-less man peeking out from the bottom of the file. "You imbecile. Through the temple? In the neck? Shooting a man's hand off? I sent you there to protect your sister, not write your goddamn name on the walls."

Cassie said nothing. Locke was angry, and he would ignore whatever justification she gave him. With Locke, you just took it, or he had you killed. Or if you were unlucky, both. "The men who attacked the school were Harbour Kings. The same Harbour Kings I am looking to do business with. It is not a guarded secret that I hire a sniper. How do you think the Kings will react to me now that my hitman has killed several of their men and shut down a venture attempt?" Cassie didn't answer. Locke didn't want her to. "Worse than that, your sister managed to reveal her nature to her date. It's unfortunate, but we can't have him spilling secrets and the riff-raff coming down on us to seize her." He paused, and let Cassie's eyes widen. She opened her mouth to protest, but he held up a single finger and silenced her, nearly smirking. "It's already done. Unfortunate car accident. For the safety of your sister, of course." He turned, walking toward the window.

"However, we are lucky in that your sister was not the only fool to show their hand that night." He looked out onto Kilbride. His own backyard. They were high up in a penthouse apartment renovated to be a personal office, all requested and paid for by Locke. It had the best view in the city, and that was probably why Locke wanted it. A high seat to lord over his domain from. "Several other students proved themselves to have natures like yours and your sisters. And as you very well know..." he turned, walking back toward the desk and leaning over it, holding himself up on his arm, fingers splayed on the desk, "I am very interested in people of your nature." He straightened up. "However, I don't imagine these ones to be as easily recruited as you. No easy...levers." He smiled, the corners of his mouth turning up in a sickly manner, and raised an eyebrow. He was baiting Cassie, but she refused to bite. She'd heard worse. "I have men looking into it, but I suspect they will prove unsuccessful. This is where you will step in. To make up for your...transgression, I want you to eliminate those who revealed themselves at the shooting." He gestured vaguely, and the guards - little more than gorillas in tight-fitting suits - moved around the desk and motioned for Cassie to stand up, pulling her chair out as she did so, and began to escort her out. "Who they are and how you do so is your business. Do not fail me again." Locke said as she left, and then she was out the door, and it clicked locked behind her.

---

Cassie turned her hands over and under themselves as she walked back to her apartment. Immediately after the shooting she'd ran home and discarded her disguise and stowed her rifle, changing into regular clothes again and heading over to Jo's apartment. She'd comforted at best she could, or tried to, and then left Jo alone with the boy she'd taken to the dance, at Jo's surreptitious urging. Cassie smiled slightly and hugged her sister tightly, feeling uneasy in a matronly manner but supressing the urge to forbif this-and-that. It'd only make this-and-that more likely. Jo was strong, and smart, and Cassie trusted her. She went home, and tried to sleep. It didn't last long, and she'd spent the rest of that night in disguise again but without her rifle, just wandering buildings and rooftops and trying to practise her powers. She felt fuzzy at times of trying but couldn't bring on the clarity of her true Focus. Her mind was too frazzled and her emotions too frayed, still raw from the threat Jo had faced. She sat on the edge of a building that stood across from one of Locke's casinos, dangling her feet over the edge, and stayed this until sunrise, the light cresting over the horizon.

Cassie had made a note to keep her eyes open and her ears close to the ground during the week the school was shut, but had seen little so far. It was only Tuesday, but there was no peep from the weekend, and she suspected that any metas who had flexed their n'th muscles at the shooting would probably avoid flaunting their natures again, at least for the time being. Her only real lead was the boy who'd tipped his cap to her, but he was masked, and the same shape and height as nearly every other boy at the school. She'd considered breaking in while it was shut and stealing some records, but she'd have no idea which ones were the ones she needed. It would be a pointless act, and bring attention where it wasn't wanted. And frankly, she didn't feel like forcing the school through any other suspicious incidents after Friday night.
That said, it was the metas at the school that ultimately stopped the shooters in the first place, with a bit of help here and there from Cassie and her rifle. Maybe they'd gotten a taste for it. Maybe they'd be wandering rooftops like her.

Didn't hurt to wait and see.

“Okay, let’s go over this again…”

A loud groan resonated from the other side of the bedroom and a wad of socks flew over to the bed where Roanna had been laying down, hitting her softly on the chest.

“We’ve been at this all week! You’ve already talked to Caitlin, Justine, Haley, Shaymaa, Brandee and Jordan, none of them saw a thing. Hell Haley didn’t even go to the dance so strike me why you even talked to her about it.” Stephanie replied and continued to fold and put away her laundry.

“I know, but doesn’t it seem weird to you that no one saw anything? And yet the paper clearly states that there was more help involved than just me? I mean…someone had to have finished it, I was passed out in the locker room after I got shot, and I know for a fact that there were more masked guys in there.” Roanna said. Her back was leaned up against the head board, her wounded leg stretched out on the bed with her sweat pants rolled up to her knee for a chance for the burnt skin to heal. There had been little improvement on the wound over the last few days, the dead skin had flaked off and the somewhat alive skin had managed to scab over. Walking was pointless without any help from a cane or a brace that Stephanie happened to have in their garage. She should have felt lucky, had this been one year ago that bullet would have gone straight through some bone. Thankfully a summer of running had put some muscle on her scrawny legs creating the area that the bullet had gone through cleanly. She should have felt lucky; but she didn't.

In response, the blonde just shook her head and decided not to answer her friend and instead changed the subject.

“When was the last time you put some ointment on that thing?”

Roanna couldn’t help but to roll her eyes, leave it to Stephanie to completely avoid a subject and turn it to one that couldn’t be ignored. Fine, two could play at that game.

“Which brings me to another point. There was a sniper out there, a fucking sniper Steph! They killed most of the other guys with just a single bullet, so why did I not get pumped full of lead in the head? Why was I so lucky? I looked just like the rest, so either the sniper got distracted and missed my head, or they know more about what I was doing there and just shot my leg to piss me off…”

“Well it worked.” Stephanie grumbled. Abandoning her clean laundry now piled on the floor, she walked to Roanna and sat down on the edge of the bed next to her exposed leg. Bending forward, she grabbed the ointment from the nightstand and undid the lid.

“No. Hell no! You put that back!” Roanna snapped, trying to reach forward and snap the bottle out of Stephanie’s hand. Stephanie was quick though, and pulled it out of Roanna’s reach.

“Look I know it hurts. Remember when we were out camping that one time when we were just kids and I fell into the fire pit?”

“The fire had been out for hours…”

“But the coals were still hot. Now hold still.”

Stephanie scooped out a generous amount of the ointment onto her fingers and gently massaged it into Roanna’s wound. A sharp hiss exhaled out of Roanna as she felt the skin immediately ignite in pain. Well…good to know she still hadn’t killed her pain receptors; though right now she wish she had.

“Okay okay that’s enough.” Roanna grumbled, trying to squirm away.

“You know what? I think my dad might have some Vicodin from when he fell off of his horse. You’re still not able to sleep right? I know you didn’t last night.”

Roanna turned her head away, not wanting to answer. She had been staying at Stephanie’s ever since the incident. A phone call was made to her mother that only reached her voice mail, but the message was put across that she would be spending time at Stephanie’s during the break. She never got called back, and Roanna didn’t care.

“You need sleep. You’re getting pissy and you keep driving me crazy with these conversations I swear that we’ve had fifty times already. So stay put, and I’ll be right back.” Stephanie got herself off of the bed and ran upstairs to her father’s bathroom, leaving Roanna alone on the bed. Stephanie was right, there was no point to hammering her friends for the questions she wanted answers to; but who else could she talk to? Pulling her phone from her pocket, she scrolled through her contacts, thinking to herself who was there that night that she hadn’t talked to. Coming to the T’s, the answer seemed to slap her in the face and sent a quick text.

Hey I remember seeing you getting stitched up the other night at the school. I hope everything is okay and that you’re feeling better. Also, I was wondering when a good time would be to get together to work on our Chemistry Lab report. Just let me know okay?

She doubted Thomas would even reply, the only reason she had his number to begin with was because they were assigned as lab partners at the beginning of the year and so they had to exchange numbers in case they had to work on something outside of school. Still, she had to be really careful with how she talked to him about what happened at the school. Expressing any more interest than was necessary might lead him to suspect something, and God knew she didn’t want that. She was awkward enough with the opposite sex as it was.

“Catch.”

Roanna had just stuffed her phone back into her pocket when Stephanie returned down into her bedroom, tossing her a bottle of pills that had the label removed from it.
“I don’t know what the dosage is, so I’d take three.”

Eying her friend with a look that said ‘I hate you’ all over it, Roanna unscrewed the cap and dumped out the pills into her hand, putting all but four back into the bottle. Screwing the cap back on, she popped the pills down, reaching across to the nightstand for her bottle of water and washed it down.

“Alright Doctor Foltz, I have been prescribed. Now get off my back.” Roanna grumbled, getting a smile out of Stephanie.

“You couldn’t get rid of me even if you tried.”

A groan left Makarios as he sat up in his bed, greeting the beautiful day with squinted eyes and meager smacking lips, parched for water to drink and wash away the taste of stale saliva. Placing his feet on the ground, Makarios saw the bloodied bandages he’d discarded carelessly the night before in his waste basket. He placed a hand gingerly to his side, wincing at the wound. Unfortunately, the night of the Homecoming Dance wasn’t some odd type of blur that he could barely remember. His mind replayed things in vivid detail. Every emotion, reaction, thought and moment of panic seemed etched into his mind. It prompted a few questions about his amulet that, until that night, he had been trying to push away into a mental vault. What was inside of him? He wasn’t a fool, and he couldn’t just blame it on the amulet. There was something in him that was tapping into the amulet on instinct and something in him that relished the thrill of that night.

Making his way to the bathroom of his apartment, Makarios readied himself to change his bandages again. Luckily, his workout yesterday hadn’t aggravated his wound too much and there had only been a minor increase in blood. The release of physical activity always seemed to sate his mind and the amulet, even if relaxation was the best way to let his body heal. Makarios was a stubborn individual and went his own way, regardless.

Except when it comes to you following in my footsteps.

He shook his head, dislodging the unwarranted thought that crept in to his mind. Gritting his teeth, he set his mind to the task at hand: changing these damn bandages.

***

45 Minutes Later:

Makarios’ last traces of grimace disappeared as he left his bathroom. That had been a long ordeal. But today, today might actually be spent resting and relaxing. Pulling on a gray long-sleeved henley shirt, Makarios headed out of his apartment, grabbing his keys and phone on the way out. The park near his place provided him with a sense of calm whenever he visited it. He had a feeling he would be hearing from Caleb sometime soon, something else Makarios wasn’t sure of. He could tell that Cal had good intentions, but Makarios wasn’t sure where his own intentions rested. Cal seemed fascinated by the thought of abilities while a part of Makarios was terrified by them.

As much as Makarios wanted to ignore it, he knew that his days of simply ignoring his amulet, his urges were coming to an end.

Thomas had talked to the paramedics about the events of the night, while they had been stitching him up. He told them how a glass shard had hit his arm when he was hiding from the gunmen, and how he had seen a guy in a mask and hat run away from the scene. The police didn't have any further questions for the Texan.

Thomas had made his way home, hearing how one of the jocks, Jakob was his name, bragging about how he had "totally beaten up" one of the thugs. Thomas had just shrugged. If they guy wanted to take on the fury of the gang that these guys had belonged to, he was more than welcome to.

****

Thomas had woken up, and followed the news regarding the school shooting. The student that had been shot was a notorious drug-dealer. Not exactly a loss in Thomas's eyes. But then again, it could've been an innocent kid. The gangbangers needed to be brought to justice. Thomas would see that it was by cuffs, and not by bullet through the temple, like a few of the less fortunate thugs at the dance.

Thomas's cut that he had given himself in the arm was now just about healed. The wound being nothing more but a fading scar. Thomas wanted to find out more about the guys who shot up the dance, but also more about the people who had, like him, taken action. Thomas had seen the glue grenades incapacitating the leader and he had seen the burning car, that seemingly had self-combusted. Not to mention the guys who had been demolished by someone even stronger than the Texan himself.

It rose all kinds of red flags in Thomas's psyche, but also several of curiosity.
”Are there more like me?..” Thomas asked himself. He turned off the TV, when he noticed his phone buzzing, a text from Roanna. Thomas read it and quickly replied.

I'm a bit shaken up, but I think I'll be okay. What about you? And just about anytime's good for me to work on our project. He responded, putting the old phone back on the table, going for a workout and then a shower before he'd head out to try and find some clues to the location of the criminals.

The Colosseum

---

Tuesday October 8, 2013

---

As Cassie closed the door to Locke's office behind her, a large man standing well above seven feet pushed his way past her nearly throwing her to the other side of the hallway with a rough shove. As he pushed the door open, it swung wildly on its hinges, the screws in the wall straining under the force the man had used on the door. Looking up from his desk, Locke leaned back casually in his chair, his right hand sliding to the shotgun that was mounted on the underside of his desk as he smiled venomously at the man.

"I was wondering how long it would take for you to storm in here." Locke leaned forward as he gestured towards a leather chair on the other side of his desk, in line with the shotgun his finger was hovering above the safety of. "Please take a seat."

"Damn you and your chair." Tony yelled as he took a hold of the object in question, hurling it across the room before slamming his hands down on the desk in front of him.

"Not quite what I meant Tony." Locke smiled arrogantly as he changed the angle of the shotgun. "I don't like talking business with people who can't meet me at eye level. Now please," Locke suddenly cocked the shotgun, letting Tony know it was trained on him. "Sit."

Looking down, Tony contemplating snapping the man in front of him in half before he felt the butt of another gun at the base of his neck.
"Your sniper?" Tony snarled as he reluctantly took a hold of a the other chair in front of Locke's desk and lowered himself into it.

"Not the one you've met. The Silencer is however the finest member of my little band. Did you know he has the power to remove sound within a radius of his desire?" Tony shook his head as Locke raised an eyebrow. "Surely you didn't think you and your little errand boy were the only one in this city with gifts did you? Mr. Zolnerowich here can break a man in five minutes, it's amazing how fragile the mind becomes when all one can hear is the beating of their own heart as it pumps blood through your veins."

"I care not about your pets Locke, I care only about who killed my men. Give them to me and we can deal again." Tony said with a low growl in his throat.

"Believe me I would love to, however she's worth more to me alive than dead. How many men did she take from you?" Locke said, now removing his hand from his gun. With the Silencer in the room, Locke believed Tony wouldn't try anything.

"Three of my men were killed by precision head shots, two more wounded and I have reason to believe it was your sniper who detonated that truck." Tony's voice rose with each word as his hands curled into fists. Had Locke not ordered Zolnerowich to load his gun with anti-armor rounds, Tony's flaring temper would have been a cause for concern. But even the Harbor King's leader's skin was not tough enough to deflect an anti-armor round.

"Ten million, I'll offer you ten million and I'll throw in a crate of automatic weapons. But I'll sweeten the deal, my sniper claims there were others, more 'vigilantes' in the school that night. I'm willing to offer an additional ten million for everyone you bring me, fifteen million for them alive."

"Why are they more valuable alive?" Tony asked intrigued only for Locke to shoot him down.

"That's my business, and my business alone Mr. Cleaver. Now if we're done, I'd like you to get the hell out of my office." Locke added with a smirk as he leaned back in his own chair. "The weapons will be waiting for you out back." Pausing, Locke pushed the button for his secretary on his phone. "Miss Jones, please write out a cheque for Mr. Cleaver for the amount of ten million." Standing up, Tony nodded towards Locke as the Silencer held the door open for him. Closing the door, Zolnerowich turned to Locke.

"Are you sure you can trust him?" A Russian accent permeated his speech but his English had significantly improved in the decade he had been in Locke's employment.

"First rule of business is not to trust anyone Gleb. I want a tail on him, if the opportunity arises, break him. I could use the warehouse property."

"Will do Sir." Zolnerowich said as he himself exited the office.

~ ~ ~
Harbor Kings' Warehouse

The black Hummer came to a halt as Tony climbed out of the driver's seat and walked around to the back. Opening up the trunk, Tony lifted the crate of weapons with relative ease as he stormed into the warehouse and threw the crate of weapons on the ground in front of those gathered around a TV playing Call of Duty on an Xbox.

"We're in business boys!" Tony yelled as he held up a sub machine gun admiring the fine weaponry. "JAIME!" Tony yelled as Fox Face came scurrying from within the warehouse. "Deposit this, and then take fifty percent of it and split it among the families of those we lost. Momma Hernandez was always good to us." Pulling a cigar out, Tony lit it as he took a deep puff before blowing a smoke ring towards Jaime. "Oh and Jaime, do you have a plan yet?"

"Still working on it boss." Jaime said sheepishly. Tony laughed as he gave the smaller man a slap to his back which nearly sent Fox Face sprawling across the room.

"Forget anything you've worked on, Locke's offered to pay us to kill those who meddled in our plans at the school. We're looking for a bunch of well off middle class kids. Jorge! Take Luis and go see the Thirds, perhaps they know something. Jaime, who was our inside man?"

"I think it was Horatio, he was the DJ that night." Jaime answered slowly, working through his memories of the night.

"Damn!" Tony yelled as he slammed his fist against a nearby wall. "He was found among the dead. He likely had a video of the dance, Jaime I need you to get into the evidence locker and get us that camera. I believe Corrotto owes us a favour for when he 'busted' us last month to supply his men with some meth for their staff party."

"Yo Capitan, what's the plan for all this?" Jorge suddenly piped in.

"Tonight ladies, we're going to rob a bank." Tony smiled with sinister intent as he walked back over to the open gun create. "Now line up and pick a weapon." He yelled as the men around him cheered and yelled.

~ ~ ~
IllAdvised

Walking back from Makarios' apartment building, Cal leaned against his car as he turned his left arm over and swiped his right hand across his Glitch device. Checking his messages, he had a missed text from Sam asking what his plans were for the day and a missed call from Landon. Ignoring the call, and answering the text, Cal turned back to the matter at hand as he mused over how he could find Makarios. He had buzzed his apartment only to receive no answer. Now, Cal realized that things looked different in the dark than they do during the day but he was sure that this was the place he had dropped Makarios off the night of the dance. Not only did he have a photographic memory but he had installed a GPS into the Volvo which could recall the path of the car. So the more likely answer was that Makarios wasn't home. Opening up Facebook, Cal looked up Makarios' profile before noting that Makarios seemed to have a thing for a park. Looking up, he noted that Thistle Park was actually just across the road from the apartment building.

Looking either way as he jogged across the street, Cal walked down into the park as he began to look for Makarios. Logically it made sense he might be here but then again he could be off shopping or out for lunch or any of a hundred other possibilities. Walking around for a bit, Cal finally stumbled across Makarios sitting down against a tree. Sitting down beside Makarios, Cal looked over at him noting that the bullet wound didn't seem to be bothering the other as much, he looked more relaxed and less tensed.

"So, I hear school dances are killers." Cal said with a smirk. "How are the wounds doing?" For some reason Cal got the feeling that Makarios had been expecting him from the look he was given.

As he sat, the wind whimsically played and whispered around him, settling him in his serene state on the sunny day. He listened only to his breathing and when he felt the pulse that he had been looking for within his amulet, he didn’t shy away from it. He accepted the pulse as the gift that it was, he let it ripple through his body, distorting his preconceived notions as drop would a placid lake. Careful not to traipse too far in to something he didn’t yet fully understand, Makarios kept a vague aura of hesitance. The ebb and flow of the energy within him started to feel less foreign, but not much less frightening. It laced through his fingers, settled over his chest, trickled down his legs to the soles of his feet and bubbled up toward his mind. He could feel it, encroaching and reaching for his mind.

His breath began to quicken, his heart rate responding in turn.

Images of his past began to flood. Images of an animal nature came to the mental precipice making its presence known.

No. I’m not ready...I can’t. I can’t let you in. Please, please!

…

please.

He could feel a raw energy of aggression begin to rise up. It’s energy differed from before, it bubbled and boiled in him. The energy surged sporadically and fought to keep it under control. Had he traipsed too far on his first venture. Had he flown too close to the source? Even while engaged in the mental battle going on, he felt beads of sweat beginning to form on the back of his neck. His brow furrowed and his back tensed. A growl sounded in his head, a low rumble, echoing through the darkness of his consciousness and resonating off the pillars that represented his psyche.

The growl became louder, seeming to shake his very mind and he felt a shiver run through him. He couldn’t seem to sate the aggression that ravaged him.

‘No!’

His eyes snapped open and a sharp intake of breath seemed to bring him back to reality. For a moment, all of the stimuli rushed him all at once, dazing him for the briefest of seconds. He could feel the power of the amulet receding, the warmth that he had previously felt began to recede, shunned away by his own inhibitions. Perhaps that was enough adventuring for the day.

Makarios settled back into the tree, focusing on only his mind but keeping his surroundings in the back burner. He mulled over his past, his motives, his future and his hopes. All became images swirling in his mind. A tableau of things past and things to come, each frightening and inviting all at the same time. In the midst of it all, he could smell a scent. A familiar scent.

‘I knew he’d show up.'

Makarios continued to meditate, peacefully bringing himself out of his state of tranquility, just in time for a familiar presence to situate himself right next to Makarios.

"So, I hear school dances are killers."

Makarios opened one eye, lazily focusing on Caleb. The male seemed to hold an air of excitement about him.

"How are the wounds doing?"

“A bit better than expected, but I’m not one to rush excitement. Yours?” Makarios opened the other eye, relaxing his meditative pose and leaning against the trunk of tree that he had found solace in. “And why,” he began, turning to face Caleb, “do I get the feeling that this is going to become a regular thing? You…joining my meditation time.” Makarios held a stoic and hardened face for a moment, staring intently at Cal before he broke a smile and started chuckling.

“What have you been up to?”

Cassie left the meeting with Locke – ‘meeting’ here being a word for ‘lambasting’ and ‘humiliation for amusement and pathetic ego kicks’ – hurriedly and with her head down. She mumbled a vague apology when some monolithic mountain that she presumed was a man (but couldn’t be quite sure) bumped her shoulder and sent her other shoulder into the wall of the hallway but paid no other mind and kept on. She hated Locke. She hated the city which, for all intents and purposes, was Locke’s. She hated that she worked for Locke. But far above all of those emotions of disdain and loathing, a pillar standing tall and burning bright…she hated that she needed Locke. She needed his money, needed the home he gave her. Needed him so she could look after Jo. And it was with that thought that she decided what to do with the rest of her day.

Jo was at school when Cassie arrived at her apartment - her actual institute of education being separate to the Kilbride College Academy where the shooting had taken place. The apartment was empty, Jo’s part-time ‘carer’ (maid and bodyguard) having no reason to stay during the days Jo went to school, and Cassie let herself in with the spare key Locke had given her at the start of all this mess. It was still before noon, and Jo wouldn’t return until gone four, but Cassie could wait. Patience was a virtue she held in great quantities. She amused herself by flicking through Jo’s books, and her record collection, eventually growing bored with both and, exhausted from the lack of sleep she’d suffered since the shooting, fell asleep on the sofa a little after one.

She was woken up by the soft shaking from a hand on her shoulder, the arm of which extended into the blurry form of Cassie’s sister. Jo shifted into focus as Cassie sniffed and rubbed her eyes, shedding sleep dust and blinking a couple times while she pushed herself up into a seated position, leaning against the back cushioning of the plush leather sofa. She smiled lazily and pulled Jo into a one-armed half-hug. "Afternoon, sis." Jo said, and Cassie chuckled.

"How was school, Jo?" She asked, standing up and stretching as Jo walked away from the lounge are into the attached kitchen and flipped the switch for the kettle. She replied as it started bubbling.
"Boring. People knew I was at Kilbride CA. It was a lot of fawning or a lot of avoiding." The kettle clicked again and Jo turned, pulling two mugs from an under-unit cupboard. She quickly brewed two coffees, handing one to Cassie. "The teachers were being careful too. I just wanted to study and leave, not be hounded for details or petted with sympathy. Policeman came in, though."

Cassie looked up at Jo over the rim of her mug. She was taller than her younger sister, but not by much, and at times like these, Jo being so stoic and straight-forward, she felt like the dynamic between them had been reversed. "Really? What about?" She asked, continuing the conversation with minimal involvement. She could control herself expertly, but around her sister, it was always harder to hide. And Jo invariably knew regardless.

Jo sipped from her mug, savouring the flavour and the scent. "An explanation. Dumbed down, obviously. I guess a warning, too? Our 'legal guardians' have been permitted to pull us out for a while without it affecting our attendance records, and the work will be sent home so we can keep up with the syllabus. I have elected to stay at school." Jo cleared her throat.

Cassie smiled sympathetically, and they stood in silence for a few minutes as they finished their drinks, placing their mugs in the sink. Jo sighed, and took a long look at Cassie. She looked tired, and Cassie knew it. Her occupation was taking its toll on her, emotionally and physically. There was a lot more weighing Cassie down than simple sleep deprivation. Cassie coughed, the silence feeling awkward, and knowing that Jo was inspecting her. She was uncomfortable talking about the KCA shooting, for obvious reasons, but Jo didn't know about what she did, and she wanted to keep it that way.
"I have to get going...there's work I need to do for the doctor." Cassie said, making an excuse to leave Jo's scrutinization. She turned to take her scarf off the hook by the front door of the apartment and stood with her back to Jo, wrapping it around her neck carefully, when her sister spoke and made her freeze.

"I went to...to Tom's, before I came here." Cassie noticed her voice. Wavy. Forced bravery. A tone she'd heard plenty after the death of their parents. "My...my date. T-to the dance." Cassie hung her head. Tom was dead, Locke had told her that. And now Jo knew, and maybe Tom was the first real chance Jo had had for a normal life, and now he was dead, and Locke had taken him from her, and anger built up in Cassie as she heard a small sob escape from Jo. She suppressed it and whirled around, moving quickly across the room to take Jo into her arms and hug her tightly. In response, Jo gave up her pretense and began crying in earnest, clinging tightly to her older sister for some kind of comfort, something solid to hold on to. Cassie wept too, silently, shedding tears for the life Jo would never get to have now, for the things that had happened to them, for the things that Locke had done to them...she heard Jo choking out some words, a muffled murmur from the face buried into her scarf and shoulder. She leant back, letting Jo be heard.

"His whole f-family. In a car collison..." She bit back tears but failed to stop them and they wormed down her face, dripping off the end of her nose. "They told me not to use my powers but I did and now he's dead and his mom and dad are dead and it's just like our parents, just like them, it's me, it's my fa-" her words tumbled out and Cassie didn't let her finish the sentence, squeezing Jo's shoulder and whispering a soothing hush.
"No, no Jo, it's not, it's not your fault, and neither were mom and dad, nothing was your fault..." She stroked the back of Jo's hair as she clung to Cassie's back, and slowly, slowly Jo calmed down. "It was an accident, just like mom and dad. It was not your fault. You didn't do anything wrong. There was nothing you could have done. It's no one's fault." Cassie wavered at the end, sounding unconvincing even to herself. "Tom's death was nobody's fault."

Jo separated. Her weeping had stopped but her cheeks were stained and her mascara ran. "It is." She said, sniffing and wiping her eyes. "You know it's not mine, but it is someone's fault." Cassie said nothing, but she sighed, and Jo saw a mournful exhaustion in her eyes. She relented. "You don't have to tell me. But...thank you." She hugged Cassie again. They looked at each other, both sniffing from crying and makeup ruined, and chuckled a bit. "Dad always did that." Jo said. "He always knew you weren't saying something, and he let you not say it." Cassie smiled. She'd forgotten, but Jo was right. Their father always knew, and always knew not to pry.

They spent the rest of the afternoon talking about their parents. Jo's carer arrived and quickly left again after he realised Cassie was there, giving the sisters space. The reminisced long into the evening, and eventually moved topics, talking about Jo's schooling, her future, Cassie's activities, Jo spinning wild theories about their 'mysterious' benefactor (Cassie pulling pained and sympathetic smiles, Jo smirking knowingly but saying nothing). Cassie caught up on all she'd missed, and felt like Jo's big sister again, not just a girl with a rifle looking out for her from the other end of a scope. Eventually, inthe early hours of the morning, they both fell asleep, collapsed on the sofa, laughs and tears shared in equal measures.

Cassie woke with the sun, the light streaming through the large eastern-facing windows of Jo's apartment. She rose quietly from the sofa, leaving Jo asleep. There was a faint smile on her face, and Cassie smiled herself. She left a note, and then left the apartment. It was time to find her targets.

Thomas had gotten out of the shower, put on his jeans, holding his shirt in his hands, and his tablet, a cheaper knock-off of the apple products, Thomas was convinced the only thing you payed for was the logo. On the tablet he was searching every site he had access too, the Texan had picked up a few shortcuts into local PD's systems, since they were usually rather out of date, back in Texas. He couldn't get into any confidential files, but he could get the corner reports on the killed thugs, and the names of the ones in custody.

It lead the Texan to figuring out who it was he was supposed to talk to. One of the local fences, a C.I to the cops. His name was Carl Jefferson, and he wasn't easy to shake up. But Thomas wasn't cut from the same cloth as the local police department. He had his own ways of getting information from the crocks. Thomas walked into his bedroom, and took a deep breath. Stretching his neck before he clenched his fists, and focused. His fists soon started shaking, and then his arms, shoulders and chest soon followed. Veins in his forehead, and on his left temple became visible. He let out a groan as the sickening sound of his skin ripping on his back, letting out the two white wings. A few drops of blood on the floor under him and behind him, as well as the wall behind him.

Thomas was panting, kneeling on the floor. Sweat running down his face. His mouth tasting like blood and every muscle in his body felt like it was on fire. His head was spinning, dizzy, feeling like he was gonna throw up, or pass out. But Thomas knew this feeling so well, as he had experienced it so many times before. He had to push through, and not give in. The pain would subside, it always did.

Thomas looked up, the sweat dripping from his forehead, his body shaking slightly, as he climbed to his feet. The four meter wing-span flapping twice, before Thomas pulled the wings towards his body, making them almost unnoticeable if you would look at him from the front.

He made his way to the wardrobe, putting his hand on a panel in the back of the wardrobe, a metal handle was seen. With it, he pulled out the folded metal-bar that held up the hangers with his equipment on it. One hanger for the silk shirt he wore, one for the leather jacket. One for the holster with the shotgun in it. He had sheaths for knives, batons and even a machete. Today, he choose to go with the batons. He threw the leather holster onto the bed behind him, as he took down the shirt, removed it from it's hanger and put it to his body. It was always tricky to put on clothes with the wings out. But with a little effort, he got the fine fabric shirt to his body. He buttoned it up. Now for the leather jacket, as the leather was much harder than the silk, the jacket was always more difficult for Thomas to put on. Taking several minutes to put it on, Thomas adjusted it's fitting on his body when he was done.

Now all that was left was to apply the face paint. Thomas walked into the bathroom and opened the mirror, to get the navy blue face paint out. He opened the bottle, and put a little into his palm. Using the fingers on the other hand to apply it around his eyes, like a mask. He also applied a little around his face, to further disguise his features.

“Not that they're gonna remember your face anyway.. Wings are a bit more memorable..” Thomas mumbled to himself, the words of someone he once knew, back home. Once he was done, he pulled the hood up, and walked to the small balcony in his bedroom. He opened up the door. Looking around, seeing no one else outside, he swiftly jumped up onto the rail, and took a deep breath. Extending his wings from his body, as he leapt of, taking to the skies.

IllAdvised

---

Tuesday October 8, 2013

---

Cal cracked a grin as Makarios acknowledged him with a few sly comments.
"Well I think I managed to get all the glass out them so that's a start at least." He leaned back getting comfortable as he responded to Makarios' comments with a laugh. "Why would I stop at your meditation sessions? Man if I need back up, I'm coming to get you." Cal pulled some folded papers out of his pocket and placed them in front of Makarios. Unfolding them, he pointed to various items on the page, as he showed the police reports to Makarios. "This a little bit of what I've been up to. I'm still struggling to wrap my head around what exactly happened Friday night, what came over me and the moves you pulled were amazing but definitely not average or even humanly possible." Pausing, Cal flipped to another sheet which showed a toll of violent crime through the city. A graph illustrating the rising rate over the past twenty years all linking back to the time Roman Locke took over the Colosseum from his father.
"Crime in this city is getting out of control, the criminals run this city. But last Friday night, we proved we could do something about that. Why not you and me? Dynamic duo, two men against the world. Or at least against this city. Too long has Kilbride lived under crime. It took my mother from me because she got too close to tracking down the Kingpin. Her death destroyed my father. He's living in the Murdoch Mental Hospital now, 'clinically insane' they say." Cal said emphasizing the last part with air quotes as he rolled his eyes. "I have my gifts and you have yours, putting them together we can bring real justice. We won't be bought off, corrupted or derailed. We'd be disguised, unaccountable for our actions, crime lords nor law could touch us and the people would thank us." Standing up, Cal held out his hand towards Makarios.
"Will you help me?"

“Caleb, I can’t. I just...can’t.” Makarios put his head in his hands, bringing his knees up to greet him as he -- for the first time in a long time-- struggled to vocalize his thoughts. “I’m not right. There is something with me.” Even uttering the words, as stressed and low as they had been, weighed heavily on Makarios. He knew what he was speaking probably seemed confusing and maybe even overdramatic, but he was baffled for a moment on where to start or if he should start at all, telling this...essentially a stranger, more of his life than he had shared with anyone else.“I can't live like you do, rampant with emotions and acting on impulse or with fervor. And, this isn't a critique of you or anyone else, it’s a jealous observation. I wish I could do what you, or most people, do. But I can’t.” Makarios leaned back against the tree again, letting his legs relax in front of him. He stared into the branches of the tree, tracing the specks of light he could see. “I couldn't put myself in a situation where there’s such a risk factor of me becoming reckless. I have to keep myself in check at all time. Hell, sometimes I get the fleeting thought that I really shouldn't even be out there in society on most days.” Simply speaking took a slight toll. The matter was such a sensitive one to him and he forced himself to restrain from balling and un-balling his fists or fidgeting in general. “What you saw that night,” he continued, looking down to eye level again, “What I was doing. That was terrifying for me. I had no idea if I’d be able to do those things without consequence and I think I just got lucky that time, but I did it to help our classmates. I don’t want to push it.”He finally made eye contact with Cal. “Trust me I don’t think I can help you and you don’t want me at your side in a fight.”

Lowering his head, Cal tried to mask his disappointment. He understood that Makarios was entitled to decline but he really wished he'd reconsider. Perhaps with training or some other such exercise they could overcome Makarios' hesitation and allow him to control whatever it was that enabled him the superhuman abilities.
"Alright, well it was nice talking to you then." Cal nodded his head as he stood up. "If you ever change your mind though..." He paused rolling up his sleeve as he swiped his hand across the screen of the Glitch device. Makarios' own phone beeped moments later. "Call me, beep me, y'know when you want to reach me." Turning away Cal walked away from Makarios as he made his way back to his car. With a heavy sigh he climbed into the driver's seat as he took off.

Returning home, Cal found the condo empty as Landon had been called out to yet another crime, not that Cal was surprised. More than likely the trail would once again go cold as the dirty cops were paid off to cover up the evidence, leaving Landon with another unsolved murder, kidnapping or worse. The list could go on forever in this city. Walking into his room, Cal had to do a double take with some surprise as he found several boxes stacked beside his bed. Looked like his Amazon order had arrived early after all which meant he had a lot to do for the rest of the night. Going to his closet, he pulled out his father's old motorcycle gear while fishing out a pocket knife as he went to work on the boxes. By tomorrow night, Kilbride would officially be home to at least one vigilante.

---

Wednesday October 9, 2013

---

The rest of Tuesday night was rather uneventful as Cal had spent most of Wednesday morning tinkering with the contents of his Amazon package before retiring to the living room before lunch. Lounging into the afternoon on Landin's coach, Cal groaned as the local television station played yet another one of his grandfather's political ads. Darius Faulkner had launched a rather aggressive campaign against the current Mayor, Timothy Simmons. Cal suddenly jerked his head back as he heard Landon clear his throat from the kitchen.

"Y'know your grandfather is hosting a debate at city hall tonight." Landon said, opening the fridge before throwing some bacon onto a frying pan. "I bet he'd appreciate the support of his only grandson."

"Oh yes, how I'd love to go support the man who'd only care about me if I had a degree in business and a lucrative deal to make." Cal called from the couch he had sprawled out on, absently sipping a Cherry Coke while watching a re-run on TV.

"Cal, he has been trying to reach out to you. And he is the one holding the deeds to both your mother's office and your parent's house." Landon countered as he cracked an egg over the now sizzling skillet. "Besides, don't you want to make an educated vote."

"Won't matter in this city." Cal muttered as he sat up. "But alright, I'll go!" He relented as he chugged back the rest of his soda before getting up and heading towards the bathroom. "I'll shower and be on my way then."

"Why don't you take Sam with you?" Landon suggested as Cal paused and looked at him.

"Oh yes," Cal replied dryly as he turned back to Landon. "Hey Sam, for our second date how'd you like to listen to two older men argue about who has the bigger 'platform'." He put a heavy emphasis on the last word with air quotes. "I highly doubt she'll want to come Landon."

~ ~ ~

"I can't believe you actually want to come." Cal remarked as Sam closed the door to her parent's condo and walked out with Cal as they took the stairs down to the parking lot.

"I'd like to make an educated vote. I'm interested in hearing what their plans and goals are for the future." Sam said with a smile. "After all this is our home too no matter how bad it is."

"Look at you making an unbiased decision!" Cal said with a smirk as he held open the passenger door for Sam before going around and climbing in the driver's side. "To show how unbiased I am, I'll vote for the other guy who's not related to me."

"Cal, that's still a bias." Sam said with a giggle as Cal clenched a fist mock and mockingly shook it at her.

"Curse you and you're infallible logic." Turning the ignition, Cal backed the car up, putting it in gear and leaving the parking lot.

"So when do I get to drive your car again?" Sam said with a smirk.

"Y'know, I try not to do that sort of stuff on the first date." Cal replied with a smirk of his own as he raised the car's speed merging onto the main road towards the heart of Kilbride.

~ ~ ~

While the downtown of Kilbride was packed for the debate, the streets were relatively empty nearly two streets over as Tony sat in his hammer watching the doors to the front of the Kilbride First National Bank as they were locked up for the day. Pulling out his cellphone, Tony called up Jorge as he checked to ensure everyone was in position for their latest heist.

"The Thirds going to do their part?" Tony spoke lowly into the phone as a cruiser went by the large vehicle. While the cops in this town were crooked, even they had money in the bank that they wouldn't take too kindly to it being stolen.

"Thirds are going to cause a disturbance away from the debate. Draw the police forces away from the downtown." Jorge answered as he said in a Jeep on the other side of the bank. "Luis is getting ready to cut the alarm and the security feed. We've got Alejandro and three others armed and ready to watch the doors, Fabio's got the Lincoln for the getaway while Cruz is ready with the decoy."

"I'll storm the front, get your crew in and out of the back and get out of here. This is going to be hot." Tony ordered as he shut his phone off and climbed out of the Hummer, several other thugs following after him. He could hear the sound of their weapons' safeties being disengaged as he pulled his jacket off and pulled a balaclava down over his face. Flexing his arms, his veins began to glow beneath his skin as he arms bulged out of the tank top he was wearing. Gripping the front doors, the metal groaned as the hinges peeled away from the wall as Tony opened the bank's foyer.

"Do as make damage as possible. No one needs to know we're the second decoy." He roared as he ripped an ATM from a nearby wall and hurled it towards a security guard who was promptly squashed beneath the weight of the machine while another was gunned down. The building suddenly shook as the other Kings blew open the wall as they stormed towards the vault.

~ ~ ~

Two streets over Cal felt his arm pulse as he sat up straight in his seat. Looking at Sam as he subtly looked down at the Glitch Device, the message on screen displaying the information from an intercepted silent alarm. Cal had set up his device to read police broadcasts the night before, but now he was trapped in the debate and if he stood and left know someone would notice. That someone being his Grandfather which would mean Landon would find out and that was the last thing Cal needed, Landon poking around and asking questions. The device suddenly pulsed again as a message about a flaming couch being thrown into the street by Thistle Park came in, a suspected riot in the process where another message suddenly came in saying the bank was a false alarm. Either way if Cal could sneak out, he could check the bank and then hit the park. His gear was in his trunk.

"Sam," Cal whispered as he leaned over to her. "This is going to sound crazy, but I think there's a serious crime in progress."

"And what's your point? I thought Friday was a one night kind of deal?" Sam replied, her eyes pleading reason.

"I can help." Cal muttered back as an older woman turned around looking at the pair with an icy glare. "I made myself a uniform, some armor."

Sam sighed, before reluctantly speaking to him. "You're an ill-advised fool for thinking this is a sane idea. But..." Sam paused. "If you're going to do this, then someone needs to watch your back."

Cal paused, it wasn't the most preferable idea but what choice did he have right now. "One time, we'll see how this goes over one more time."

"I'm driving then," Sam said with a smile as she leaned over, placing a hand on Cal's chin and pulled him close, pushing their lips together for longer than what would be acceptable in a public forum. Pulling back slowly, Sam licked her lips and spoke above a whisper, "What do you say we get out of here Tiger?" She raised an eyebrow seductively as Cal looked at her with confusion before she mouthed 'GO' at him. Suddenly it hit Cal as he stood up, profusely apologizing as he stumbled over people, reaching back as he took Sam's hand and led her out the door.

"Give me your keys, you need to get your uniform on!" Sam called across to Cal as he pulled a duffle-bag out of the car and climbed into the car. "By the way, if you live past tonight, you and me are going to have to talk about a few more things than just being partners. Actually, I think we need to talk about the levels to that term."

Cal laughed as he pulled his shirt off and reached into the duffle bag. "Would you like to go steady Sam?"

"What can I say?" She paused as she revved up the engine. "I have a weakness for bad-asses no matter how ill-advised I think their crazy ideas are."

Looking at Sam with a smirk, Cal attached a voice modifier to the collar of the leather jacket he was sliding into, his voice coming out in a much deeper tone as he spoke again.
"IllAdvised, I like that."

“How did I even let you talk me into this?” Stephanie called out, her hands cupping over her mouth to project her voice even further trying to reach the covered ears of her best friend. Roanna flew through the air, gaining at least four feet on the dirt mound that had launched her into the air on the small aluminum bike. Once she hit the ground, she extended her good leg out to the side as she banked hard to the right, the back wheel of the bike and her foot kicking up the loose dirt of the BMX track behind her before coasting to a stop in front of the blonde. Roanna took off the helmet, shaking her hair a bit with her free hand and gave Stephanie a smile.

“Because I’ve been cooped up in your house for too long and I was driving you crazy with my horrible singing.” Roanna reminded her, and Stephanie couldn’t help but to return the bright smile.

“You’re still a moron. I swear…if your leg gets worse from this then I’m going to tie you to the bed so you can’t ever get free again.” Stephanie said pulling on her own helmet.

“Oh Steph, don’t make promises if you can’t keep them.” Roanna replied putting her own helmet back on.

“C’mon, we’ve still got ten minutes before the track closes for the night; let’s make the most of it.” Roanna kicked up her foot and placed it back onto the pedal. Stephanie followed suit and the two were off, racing the track together in hopes that one could out-maneuver the other.

---

The sun had long been down before Roanna and Stephanie started heading back to Stephanie’s house, both walking their bikes through the busy streets of Killbride, illuminated brightly by street lamps, building signs and the headlights of passing cars. The two made casual small talk as they wound themselves off of the main streets and down some more residential areas before hitting a small part of town that only had an occasional car pass by and street lamps with the flickering light bulb every fifty feet.

“And you’re sure your leg is doing okay?” Stephanie asked her friend, pushing the bike up onto the sidewalk as they had just crossed the street.
“I’m fine Steph, promise. Does it hurt? Of course, but it’s just a reminder to me that I’m still even alive. I couldn’t be happier.”

“And I’m sure those pain killers haven’t contributed to this new-found happiness?” Stephanie teased, and Roanna smirked. But before she could come up with a remark, gunshots were suddenly fired and the sound of crunching and grinding metal echoed throughout the nearly empty street.

“Shit!” Stephanie cried out, more scared of the abrupt noise than anything else. Roanna, however, narrowed her eyes in the direction in which the sounds came from, and Stephanie passed her a look.

“I swear to God Roanna…if you’re even thinking about what I think you’re thinking about…[/i]”

“Swear to God one more time Steph and I will personally put you in a church!” Roanna snapped at her friend. “You know I can’t just walk away…” Roanna then jumped up onto the bike, throwing down the visor of the helmet she had been wearing and began to pedal hard to the source of the noise.
“God dammit Roanna!” Stephanie hissed and jumped on her own bike, following close behind.

Roanna pulled her bike to a stop suddenly as an ATM machine flew out into the open area right in front of her. Thankfully, shielded by a brick wall, whoever it was that was causing a disturbance hadn’t yet seen her. She looked behind her and quickly motioned for Stephanie to stop before peeking around the corner to see a small group of men moving around into the bank. She wasn’t able to get any specifics, so it was unknown if this was gang-related or something more sinister, but a crime was a crime, and Roanna was aiming to stop it.

“Call the cops and then get out of here. I’ll meet you back by the canal once I’ve taken care of these guys.” Roanna instructed to her friend.
“No!” Stephanie said narrowing her eyes. “You moron! You’re hurt! They will kill you! Call the cops with me, then they can do their own damn job, let one of them risk their lives for the city for once.”

Roanna just sighed and shook her head. How many times have they had this conversation?

“Steph, I’m not going to sit here and argue with you. Either call the cops and leave, or just get the hell out of here. Either way, I’m not leaving.” She said stubbornly and dismounted her bike. It took a great deal of willpower to put her full weight on her legs without making a sound of discomfort. The leg brace she had been using was back at Stephanie’s place, and she couldn’t exactly just walk around putting half of her weight on the bike while walking it either. No, she had to toughen up and do this just as she would have done this any other day.

The situation was all too perfect as well. Garbed in Stephanie’s brother’s old BMX outfit and helmet, no one would be able to identify her even as a female, let alone Roanna Sanne. No, this wasn’t an opportunity she was about to pass up. Without so much as even waiting for Stephanie’s response, Roanna slipped around the corner to apprehend the thugs. How hard could fighting off a couple of street criminals be anyway?

Thomas had been soaring in the air, high above the streets, far out of sight of the people below on the streets of the city. Thomas twirled in the air, doing a roll with his wings, putting him in a different direction. He had never flown in Kilbride before, it was so long since he had felt the wind against his skin. It gave him clarity in life. It calmed him. To feel his wings stretching and launching his body through the air. In his ear, a blue-tooth device was put, connected to his phone, using a bootlegged police scanner app, allowing him to track criminal activity in the nearby vicinity. It had a radius of six miles.

“Attention units. We have what seems to be a bank robbery in progress at the national bank. Need all units.”

It was Thomas's cue. He spun around in the air, having memorized the layout for the city when he moved here, allowing him to navigate through it almost flawlessly in the air. Thomas began dropping altitude. Now he could see the ground, but still most certainly not be identified from the ground. Thanks to his enhanced sight, he saw the four police cruisers driving down the highway towards the bank. Thomas's head began raising, as he awoke memories of his past, back home.

”Come on Thomas, move your feet. You can't slack, or you'll get hurt.” The man said, after having sent a jab to the thirteen year old's face, making him stumble backwards. “Come on son!” Bruce said to Thomas, as the boxing-glove came for Thomas's face again. This time, however, Thomas did dodge it, sidestepping. He felt as if time slowed down. Bowing his head, with his right he jabbed his foster-father in the ribs once, and then again, the older Campbell's arm outstretched, leaving him unable to defend himself. Thomas sent an upper-cut to Bruce's chin, making the man stumble backwards. His facial expression was a mixture of the obvious pain, but also a smile.

“You okay dad?”

The police skidded to a halt when they were met with gunfire from the one's attempting the robbery, the four cars stopping on the side, about 80 meters from the bank doors, the criminals had assault rifles to pin the cops down with, the police with their handguns couldn't match their fire power. Of course, they could've gone for the shotgun in the trunks of the cars, but even if they could reach it, it wouldn't help them. The thugs had kevlar and much longer range on their weapons. All the cops could do was take potshots at the thugs, hoping to get lucky, and to avoid being turned into Swiss cheese. Thomas opted out of going for the frontal assault. But instead flew low, through the side alley. Where he saw what appeared to be a boy and a girl, getting off their bikes. One of them was heading for the two armed men,standing on the corner. The guy was thin, skinny, even. And wearing a helmet, so Thomas couldn't distinguish his face. But Thomas did know he was gonna get turned into a wet stain on the pavement if Thomas didn't act.

Thomas took a deep breath.


Bruce Campbell's face hardened as he looked at Thomas. “D.A let the bastard who shot James get off the hook because of a technicality. God damn cop-killer is walks free!” Bruce shouted, as he threw the things on his desk onto the floor. The fourteen year old Thomas looked at his father. Wishing he could quell his anger, somehow. “But.. In the end.. This just makes what I teach you, Thomas, all that much more important.”

Thomas flapped his wings again before drawing them towards him, he dove. Like a bullet, he shot through the alley. Spinning to the side to avoid a laundry line. The two thugs stepped out of the alley, guns raised and pointed at the person in the biker clothes, when they saw the blurry image of the man coming at them, and before they knew what was next, they were grabbed by the throat, and lunged into the air. All they could see was white feathers, as the two were thrown onto a car roof, breaking the roof and knocking them both out, Thomas twirled in the air, climbing again, hoping to not have been seen too clearly, he did not want to alert anyone else of his presence. He landed on the roof of the bank, wrapping his wings around his body. He watched how the thugs moved closer and closer to the cops. Thomas wanted to help. But could he risk it?

“James Ross was a man of honor, of strength, and of courage. He did what was right, and always followed the book. He wasn't just the long arm of the law, he was the entire body of the law. James Ross was a son, a father and a husband. James Ross was my friend, my partner. James Ross was my hero.” Bruce said, wearing his ceremonial uniform as a detective of the Longhorn Police Department. He stood there, trying to hold a straight face, to appear stronger than he really was for all the people who came to mourn the loss of one of their policemen. Bruce's speech was met by applause. But he didn't want them. He walked off the stage, shook some hands, and as soon as he could, he walked over to Thomas, who had been attending the funeral, and the two left the service.

***

“Do you know why I teach you these things, son?” Bruce asked Thomas, whom nodded. “Yeah. So I can better the world with my gifts, right?” The boy responded.
“Right. But that's not the prime objective. I know I can't keep you from being who you really are forever son. Sooner or later, you're gonna use your abilities, either for good, or bad. I'm making sure it'll be for good. But also for your own survival. You're gonna need to learn how to not get caught, people will want to hurt you when they find out who you are, Thomas.”

“Because I'm a freak?” The boy, whom had been struggling with the idea that he was special for a few years now, along with teenage angst exclaimed.

Bruce smiled and shook his head. “Because you're special. You're something that's never been seen before. And the world may not be ready for you. But you can fix the flaws in the law. You're a gift, not just to me and your mother. But potentially to the whole world. You can set a new standard for people. Inspire them to do better.”

“To be more like James?”

“Yeah, son. To be more like James.”


'Can I risk total exposure?' Thomas thought to himself, as he ran the numbers through his head. There were dash cameras on all of the cruisers. And it was just a matter of time before a news chopper was in the air. Thomas clenched his fist. Struggling with keeping his instincts, which ever to jump down there, tied down with his rational thought.

'Dammit Dad.'

Cassie took Wednesday for herself. She had no leads on her assignment from Locke, no gang contacts were talking, and to be frank, after an emotional evening and a long-overdue reconnecting with her sister, she needed time to collect herself, to stuff her heart back into its box. She didn't like it, but it was too hard to do her job wearing her emotions on her sleeve and opening herself to the guilt and the grief that she pushed upon herself. She'd gone home, put her burner phone down, stuffed the bag with her Quintain outfit in her wardrobe, and then changed into a breezy dress with tights and a coat, pulling a scarf from the back of her apartment's front door and throwing it around her neck as she locked up. She smiled politely at her neighbour as they brushed in the hallway and then she was down in the lobby and out through the glass doors and into the light again, breathing deep in the air. She hadn't had much time to see the city from ground-level recently. In all honesty, since her time on the streets, she'd been avoiding it.

She took a walk through Thistle Park, enjoying the greenery and the river gently bubbling by her side, and then hung a right to come out into Kilbride's illustrious shopping district. There were one or two malls which proved to be the main attractions to the retail-frenzied masses of Kilbride (and it's tourists) but the extravagent high street was Cass' preferred haunting grounds. Grand shops, sporting gold and marble, pristine whites and subtle, elegant greys, selling beautiful dresses and sleek suits and the kind of jewelry that a man like Locke would buy for his illicit mistress. Such stores were frosty to Cass when she walked in, but when she found something she liked and produced the means with which to pay for it, they got awful friendly. Cass found it amusing, a little in-joke about what money could do for you.

She started in the mall, though. Got a drink (salted caramel hot chocolate, the sugar injecting some energy into her still-sleepy mind), browsed the CD store. She saw a group of similar-aged girls across a few aisles, flicking through posters and pointing at the boys featured in them, nudging each other with elbows and then chuckling amongst themselves. Cassie felt a a strange pang of jealous nostalgia, and thought of it as a window into Jo's life. A lurking monster of resentment threatened to rear its head somewhere deep in her belly, and she quickly left, music she'd been planning to purchase left scattered on the shelf. She went to lose herself in the highstreet among the gowns and cocktail dresses but failed, that beast in her belly growling low. She ignored it, faking a smile and browsing jewellry and idly chatting at a furious pace to the various Personal Shoppers. Strained small talk as she tried on dresses that she didn't even pay attention to, leaving stores with bags and a scratched credit card.

The sun was down by the time she left, and she walked home with the right sleeve of her coat pushed up and her wrist on display. Her tattoo on display. She couldn't call her Focus in an instant, and she wasn't strong or fast. Her tattoo was the only protection she had. It usually worked. There had been one or two frightening moments, split second decisions in the face of someone desperate or mad or drugged-up, fleeing as best she could with heart pounding in her chest, taking flight back to her apartment and sitting in the middle of the kitchen, hidden from sight and calming herself, slowing her pulse and focusing her mind to bring on her ability, simulatenously traning and soothing herself. People moved in the streets around her, but they were mostly shoppers like her, headed home with bags on their arms. Cassie lapsed into a strange calm serenity, an uncommon feeling of safety washing over her.

She jumped when she heard the sirens. Head up and darting, eyes scanning, scrutinizing the street. Still some light to the air, still a quiet road with streetlights beginning to flicker on and spill orange ambience onto the sidewalk. The sirens were further away and there were...four of them? At least three, she thought, and then there was a dull, subtle sound of horrendous wrenching beneath the sirens, and a vibrating crash after that. Something...big, she couldn't think of another word with all her processes devoted to listening, something big was happening. Something that attracted the attention of the police, or at least their attention had been pointed at it. Something that might attract the attention of someone who's just gotten their first taste of fighting back...

With that thought whispering in the back of her mind Cassie weighed her options. The sirens were still blaring but they wouldn't be for long, and she didn't have time to get home and then back out as Quintain. Home was the opposite direction to the sirens and still too far off. Shit. Shit shit shit shi- She cursed over and over, agonising over the possibility of being identifiable. Of going toward danger without her rifle, or her armour. Of going unprepared..but what other lead did she have? Shit, she thought, one last time, before dumping her bags of shopping and turning on her heel, booking it in the direction of the sirens, listening intently for their direction.

She found the street soon enough, panicking slightly as she rounded the corner and the sirens she'd been following stopped, only to realise that they'd done so because they'd reached their destination, and then realising that by proxy she had too. A bank, a big bank, one of the biggest in Kilbride. Four cruisers, officers sustaining fire, the metal-framed doors of the bank foyer ripped off at their hinges - well that explains the wrenching noise - and loud noises coming from inside, undoubtedly the criminals responsible. There was a larger boom from inside and a wave of dust slowly rolled out of the hole where the doors used to be. Explosives, then. Assault rifles and explosives and something or someone who can rip metal doors straight off the wall. Cassie cursed. She should have gone back for her rifle.

She ran around the building she was behind, a shop with a flat above it on the end of the street, and dived into the alley by its side, darting through to get a better look at the bank's front wall. There was no convenient rooftop, no elevated position, and Cassie hated it. She felt exposed, out of her element, vulnerable. On a rooftop, blocks across watching through a rifle scope, she was in control. Right now, she was improvising. And Cassie hated improvising. But with any luck, she wouldn't be the only one doing so. All she had to do was wait and watch.

The Behemoth

---

Wednesday October 9, 2013

---

The cops had arrived much sooner than Tony had anticipated as he gazed out at the four cruisers, his eyes seeing red as he gave in to his anger. The veins in his arms and neck bulging as though they were going to burst from his skin anymore as he clenched his fists tighter, the luminous blue illuminating the giant of a man in the dim lighting of the bank. Walking out the front doors, Tony swatted away a couple bullets as though they were nothing more than gnats bothering him as he made his way to a third ATM. Bending down at the knees, he dug his hands into the side of the machine, ripping it from the wall and hoisting it over his head while its contents spilled all over the ground. With a might heave, the bank machine soared through the air before it landed on the hood of a cruiser, the siren immediately dying as the sudden impact of weight to one end nearly cause the vehicle to fold in two. Letting out a blood thirsty roar, Tony ran towards one of the bank's decorative pillars, pulling his fist back only to release it straight forward like a cannonball. The overhanging roof trembled as the pillar all but shattered beneath the force of the blow.

Overheard a helicopter's blade whirled loudly as it made its way over the scene. The bright spot light nearly blinded Tony as the police began to lob gas grenades towards him. With a furious growl, Tony wrapped his hands around the pillar, ripping it from its resting place before swinging around and hurling it through the air. An audible silence fell on the officers below as the pillar penetrated the helicopter, immediately killing those inside and destroying the vehicle. The sound of Tony's thugs' continual assault quickly brought them back around as the captain reached for his radio, yelling over the constant gunfire for dispatch to send in SWAT. Rubble began to fall from the overhanging roof above the stairs to the bank as its construction began to falter with the sudden lack of support.

"GET INSIDE NOW!" The Behemoth roared to his men who waltzed backwards quickly, laying down a constant spread of fire as they backed inside the building. Tony on the other hand, turned and charge the other support, as the police began to focus all their fire power on him now realizing what he was about to do. With a loud 'CRASH' the pillar snapped as stone and steel were divided by a powerful blow with the super strong man. With a roar, Tony dropped to all fours, as he pulled himself in a full circle and launched towards the entrance as dust and debris began to rain down on him. The large roof plummeted towards the ground, colliding with an echoing 'THUD' that could be heard for a blocks. The remaining Kings inside stared as they covered their faces against the dust, awestruck at the sacrifice their boss had just made before noticing a piece of the roof moving, as it was pushed aside only for Tony to emerge, choking on the heavy dust cloud.

"What you ladies staring at? We have a bank to rob. Move it!"

IllAdvised

As the Volvo squealed around the corner, a large thud could suddenly be heard as a cloud of dust washed over the vehicle. Barely able to see, Sam slammed the brakes as the car suddenly mounted the curb of the nearby sidewalk.

"Hey watch the rims!" Cal joked from the passenger seat as his face went grim. "Something bad is definitely happening. I'm getting out here, and you're getting out of here." Cal ordered. "Stay in contact but don't let the car be seen unless you have no choice." With that, he put his paintball mask on while pulling up the hood he had attached to the long leather trench coat. Beneath the coat, Cal had managed to combine motorcycle armor with one of his mother's old bulletproof vests. It wasn't a perfect armor, but it was a start he noted as he looked at the motorcycle armor covering his legs and arms as well. Strapped to his right thigh, was his mother's old Glock, in hindsight it likely wasn't the best idea because of how traceable the bullets would be to a registered gun. But Cal wasn't about to go in without a gun, he wasn't suicidal. Moving through the quick cloud of dust and debris, Cal could barely breath though at least the paintball mask protected him from inhaling too much of the stuff. In the distance, Cal could see the faint blue and red lights as it suddenly dawned on him what had happened here, the bank had not only been broken into but the front had been demolished. Hurrying up the street, and trying to stay out of sight, Cal shimmied down the side of the building until he found a side entrance. Naturally it was locked, but that didn't particularly matter at this point as he pulled out the Glock and shot the locks out. The alarms were already down, all he had to hope now was that no one inside had heard him. It wasn't like anyone outside would have been able to see him enter with all the commotion and dust going on.

That reminds me, smoke bombs would be an excellent thing to look into. He noted inwardly as he lifted his goggles to see. Outside, everything looked like a cloud, but now inside he had realized that it was partially due to the dust dirtying the lenses that he couldn't see. The sound of footsteps cause Cal to suddenly freeze as they came closer only to move away as they headed back into the offices.

"...got to hurry, Cops will no doubt be circling the building now. Tell the boys out back to be ready to go." Cal just caught the end of their conversation as, he tapped the bluetooth piece in his ear and whispered to same.

"Their getaway car is around back." Cal stopped talking as he jumped in surprise from the sound of a gun being cocked came from behind him.

"What do we have here? Someone wanting to play hero?" The thug leered at Cal as Cal took a few steps back, his hand going towards the glock.

"Don't even think about it." The thug ordered as another thug came around the corner.

"Just waste him will ya, we got to go!"

"Eh, alright. I was going to have some fun." The first thug said as he looked away. But that was all Cal needed as his mind suddenly began to speed up, registering the situation at hand. He could see the world before him as though it was barely moving, the man's gun, his partner and what he had to do to survive this. At the very least, the best thing he could do to survive this as his mind calculated the odds. Rushing forward, he ducked under the barrel as the man pulled the trigger in surprise, the bullet ripping through Cal's hood as Cal pulled his tazer, planting it firmly into the man's chest, while he heaved with all his might to use the first man as a human shield while the other thug opened fire. Turning the body, Cal reached around and pointed the dead man's arms at the other thug, and squeezed the hands, firing the thug's gun. It didn't land a kill shot but it took the other man in the shoulder allowing Cal the opening he needed. Dropping the dead body, Cal kicked the other man's gun away as he jabbed his tazer into the man's ribs dropping him to the ground before Cal slammed his head repeatedly against the wall, leaving him unconscious and with an agonizing headache to wake up to.

"Cal what happened, I heard gunshots." Sam's worried voice came in over the ear piece, as Cal slumped down against the wall opposite the two bodies. His chest heaved up and down as he struggled to catch his brief, a cold sweat causing his undershirt to stick uncomfortably to his back.

"I don't know." He murmured as he continued to pant. "I've never experienced anything like it."

"Were you shot?"

"No, he missed. My hood has a nice bullet hole but he missed." Cal said as he leaned back, placing his hands against the wall. "Sam, something just came over me. It was like the world slowed down, but I think."

"What, what are you talking about."

"It was like when I made the glue grenades. But different, it was almost as though I had some sort of clairvoyance, my mind just highlighted a course of actions and I took them."

"Cal, I hate to be the buzzkill but you're inside a bank with police and SWAT on the outside and very dangerous men on the inside. I don't think right now is the best time for self discovery."

"Right, sorry it's just..." He paused, giving his head a shake. "Nevermind, you're right. IllAdvised moving out."

"No working on a battle cry either." Sam's voice took a chastising but mocking tone as she spoke.

"You really are a buzzkill." Cal muttered as he slowly made his way further into the bank.

October 9, 2013

Makarios watched as Caleb left. Regret played through his mind as he watched the male leave, but he knew he’d made the right choice. Even if his necklace didn’t seem to think so. He could feel a slight shudder ripple from the object, playing ever so slightly on his chest. With a grunt of annoyance, Makarios shuffled to his feet. Meditation at this point was useless. He knew he would get nowhere, as his mind raced every which way, tackling this thought and that, never settling.

As he made his way back to his apartment, it’s almost like he could feel his necklace tugging away from him. It had to have been his imagination, but it was still disconcerting. Out of instinct, he placed his hand over it, as if trying to hold it down. It was odd, really. A large part of him wanted nothing to do with the thing, but he felt he needed it at random moments. It’s almost as if it was keeping him check, even when it caused him such mental unrest. But why was that? There was so much about this thing shrouded in mystery – so much about his own past that was shrouded in history – and the worst part was that no answers seemed to be near the horizon. But yet, the male pushed on. Makarios, above all things, was a fighter. A survivor. He would live on, and live a fruitful life, regardless of this damn…condition.

‘But, can this be considered living?’

The thought assaulted him quickly and without mercy. He stopped in front of his apartment door, keys in hand and eyes wide. It unlocked a series of uncomfortable realization and truths. Things that he had been hiding away that he hadn’t even realized.

“I’m not living. I’m breathing, thinking, reacting and sustaining myself. But I’m not living…I’m hiding… Hiding and hoping things get better.”

As he crossed the threshold into his apartment, it felt like he was walking through a portal where the gravity intensified and his sorrows became even heavier.

There was nothing strong about him.

He was a coward.

Evening:

The rhythmic pounding of his feet and beating of his heart helped ground Makarios in reality as he ran through the city. His black running tights kept him warm along with his form-fitting hoodie. Head bent and gaze intense, Makarios charged on, running to clear his mind, running to…he knew not. Somehow, he’d been running so long, he found himself in the banking district of the city, but Makarios didn’t care. As long as he kept moving, he didn’t have confront any more disconcerting thoughts. Though he couldn’t outrun who he was, as cliché as it was, if he kept moving, it wouldn’t hit as much.

’You’re not a coward. You’re just smart. You know that you can’t give in and you’re avoiding danger at all costs. Self-preservation, the most basic of all human traits.’

‘But…is it really self-preservation? Or am I just trying to deny a part of myself? A part I don’t understand and thus want to shun? ... When was the last time I tried to even understand it?’

Wrapped in his own mind, Makarios was dimly aware of his surroundings. Dodging this and that, he was in the physical plane, yet his soul and mind battled on an astral level, leaving him merely going through the motions of running.

His drop back in to reality was a sudden one. He felt a burning sensation on his chest as a cop sped past. His necklace pulsed and Makarios stumbled in his steady pace. The necklace pulsed again, shuddering and pulsing again. Clutching his chest, Makarios slowed to a halt, becoming aware of where he was.

He was smack dab in the middle of the banking district and commotion seemed to be everywhere. Chaos settled over the area and Makarios didn’t know where he was for a moment. He saw more cop cars and the bank they were headed to, and it dawned on him.

The cloud of smoke met him and he coughed instantly. There was so much of it! What could have happened in there? The authorities seemed to be in a state of disarray, though that didn’t seem too surprising. But there was a panic in the air and civilians were even staying clear of the damage. He knew he should as well. There was no sense in getting himself involved in yet another fiasco. Makarios turned to leave, sending his prayers if there was anyone inside, when the scent hit him. Body tensing and eyes narrowing, he recognized the scent instantly. How in the hell did that boy always find himself in these situations!?

“Dammit, Caleb,” Makarios growled as he turned back to the building. He felt a warmth grow on his chest and allowed all the various scents to come to him at once. It was jarring at first, and he reeled back, stumbling for the briefest of seconds before he sifted through them and honed in on one particular one. He honed in on Cal’s scent, certain that his friend had somehow found himself inside of that bank. “I’m going to kill him when I get my hands on him,” Makarios muttered to himself, blending back in to the crowd and making his way to a back alley not too far from the bank. Looking to his left, he noted the door to the bank, a side entrance, was ajar. Caleb’s scent was all over it. With a shake of his head, Makarios entered in, cautiously and pulled up his hood.

Once in, he rummaged around the room, looking for something to further hide his identity. He found a pair of sunglasses and a spare black T-shirt. He tied the shirt around his face, hiding his face, and put the sunglasses on. He was just about to make his way out of the room, following Caleb’s scent before he stopped.

He saw the dead gunmen and quickly took his gloves, further anonymity. Things must have already picked up in here and he needed to move quickly. But…

Why was he doing this? Cal had probably gone in here of his own volition, and the proper authorities would take care of the situation. He wasn’t obligated to do any of this.

So why?

‘Because I want to.’ Plain and simple. No matter how much he wanted to deny it, a part of him actually wanted to be here. The thought terrified him, but it couldn’t’ be helped. But…there was something else. Something past the urge of the necklace, some innate urge.

He actually wanted to help. In his fear of the monster he saw himself to be, he had completely neglected the part of him that held pure intentions. The intentions to help those around him, the yearning to resist his very nature and not bring them down, but help the downtrodden back up.

As soon as the thought hit him, his necklace pulsed once again, this time actually giving off a soft light for only a second. Makarios stared down in wonder, placing his hand over it. The sensation that washed over him could only be described as one of clarity and euphoria. He may not know what exactly this thing was, but some level of understanding had just been reached between the two.

Acceptance of what he was seemed far off, but the realization that he was something different, something more than the average human lingered in his mind and he resolved himself. Monster or not, he he would be in control, even if it killed him.

Makarios inhaled, picking up Caleb’s scent again. He took off running, making sure to stay silent as he moved. It didn’t take long for the scent to grow stronger and he knew he was close. As he rounded the corner, about to speak up, he saw Caleb, crouched, moving slowly. To his right, a gunmen, hidden in the shadows, raised his gun and aimed at his friend. Without thinking, Makarios placed his hand on his amulet. Without fear he delved in, feeling his animal. He felt the power, the feral intent, drive, focus, even the base urges as Tiger settled over him, hunching him down slightly.

Makarios took off around the corner, jumping and kicking off of the wall, sailing to the next, kicking off that one and bringing his foot up, around and down on the gunman’s shoulder before he had a chance to react. Touching down, Makarios’ hand shot out with a speed that surprised even him and closed around the man’s wrist. Makarios pulled him in and grabbed him by the throat. His hand closed and Makarios snarled at the man, the sound shocking even him. He sounded like a true tiger.

Not wanting to give the man a chance to cry out, he slammed his free fist into the man’s stomach and as he doubled over, Makarios brought his interwoven fingers up and down, striking the gunman in the back of the head. He crumpled quickly, out cold.

Makarios turned to Caleb, recognizing the scent.

“It looks like you really do need me.”

Thomas had watched it all. His eyes had followed every motion that had happened below him. Everything from the police taking their formation, to the ATM's being thrown at the cruiser. The chopper came, but it didn't pay any attention at all to Thomas. He watched the chopper soaring in the air, the sniper on the side of the chopper taking aim at the super-strong man below. But that's when the pillar shot up. Thomas felt as it all happened in slowmotion, as the gigantic chunk of steel, stone and rebar hit the chopper, penetrating the hull of the cockpit, crushing the two pilots, and then with motion still left found it's way into the middle of the chopper, making the aircraft explode. Just a few meters away from the Texan.

His eyes were wide-open as he watched the burning debris sail towards the ground, where the police had luckily gotten out of the way. Thomas clenched his fist with anger, he knew he couldn't just sit on the roof anymore. He had to act. He looked to the side. He saw the two SWAT trucks coming a block away. Gritting his teeth, he looked to the door that lead down into the staircase. He let the irony remain lost on him, a thought in the back of his head cursing the fact that he had to fight inside a building, where he couldn't utilize his wings properly.

He kicked the door open, just as the building shook. And as he looked back ,he entire section he had been standing on, the part that was above the entrance, had collapsed. His attention quickly turned to the task ahead. He put his hand onto his back, arming himself with one of the batons he carried. He flicked his wrist, making the weapon extend into it's battle-ready state.

Thomas heard voices below him, probably at the bottom of the staircase, behind the other door.
They sounded scared. Hostages. He thought, he jumped down the stairs, using his wings like a parachute to allow him to land safely at the bottom of the staircase, however, it was with a rather loud thud. A voice, angry, was heard. “The fuck was that? Jackson, check it out.”

One man, armed with military Assault Rifle walked through the door, Thomas dashed to the side, taking cover behind the door that had been opened. As Jackson looked out, he didn't see anything. “Probably just some debris from the boss tearin' the place apart.” Jackson walked back into the hallway, towards his partner. However, much hos his surprise, the vigilante charged from behind, Thomas hid the inside of Jackson's knee, forcing him down on the other, with his free hand, Thomas directed the weapon in the thug's hand towards his partner, firing a spree of bullets into the vest of the other man, knocking him off his feet. Thomas grabbed the gun from Jackson's hands, whom was crying out in pain from the leg, and hit him with the butt of the gun, knocking him out.

He walked towards the other thug, his wings still towards his body, the man was trying to catch his breath from the bullets hitting his vest. Thomas brought his boot down into the man's chest, making him let out a loud scream, before he fainted.

The hostages were gagged with rags in their mouth and bound by zipties.

Thomas looked at them, and thought the whole thing out. He wanted to free them. But the odds of them being able to I.D him if he'd let them get a good look of him, or backup coming and taking him by surprise was too high. So Thomas just left with a “ I'll be back.”

Thomas walked towards the main entrace, where he was met with another two thugs, just around the corner of the hostages. Thomas side-stepped, to disorient the thug's aim. “Hey, we've got some- what the fuck's that?!” The thug shouted as the other man had spread his wings, the wings stretching as wide as the corridor. Thomas used his left hand to grab two feathers from his right wing, and threw them, like shuriken, into the arm of the left thug, and with the other, he flung the Baton into the chest of the Thug not wounded by the feathers. He then calmly walked over to the thug holding his bleeding arm. If he wasn't pissed, he would probably have admired just how sharp his feathers were, but instead, he just punched the thug out cold. He plucked the feathers out of the thug, putting them in his pocket, as well as picking up his baton again. The thug whom he had hit with the stick, however was still awake. “Wh-who.. What are you..” The man wheezed. Thomas let out a scoff. Bringing the man up from the ground, easily hauling the 200 pound man up against the wall. Thomas held the man by the throat, not choking him, but it certainly would've hurt. He stared into his eyes. “Angel.” He spoke, as he thug scoffed, and let out a groan, his left arm shot out, a knife in hand, going for the vigilante's ribs. Thomas reacted fast enough, however, and grabbed him by the wrist, snapping it with a muffled grunt, he then brought his elbow into the man's face, knocking him out cold.

He headed into the main hallway, where the dust was thick, Thomas held his breath, as he could for several minutes without any issues. His eyes did do well in dust, but not great.
Thomas saw the back of the giant of a man as he headed down a corridor on the other side of the bank, leading to what Thomas would assume was the vault.

Taking the guy who can fling pillars like it's nothing out.. Well.. That's gonna be tricky. Thomas thought, as he walked, making sure to sneak as best as he could.

For the moment, Roanna had completely believed that she was going to be the only one that would be handling this…what looked like a bank robbery. Her face held surprise though, covered by the BMX helmet, when the sirens of the police pierced the once deadly quiet night at an alarmingly close proximity. And then, seemingly out of nowhere, the cops had arrived, circling mainly the building but she could make out a few cruisers that were setting up blocked exit routes as well. She was sure that they hadn’t even noticed her in the slight confusion of the unknown situation and took the opportunity to slink back into the shadows of the alleyway she had just started to walk out of. Now with cops in the picture, which really wasn’t supposed to be a bad thing but it somehow was, she needed to re-think her strategy.

Daring to poke her head around the corner once more as she heard open gunfire, she watched with utter amazement the strength the man they were shooting at held as the ATM came flying in her direction. She only had to step back behind the wall to be protected and watched the large machine crumple one of the police cars that had been parked, its alarm going off almost immediately and then dying.

“Either he injects steroids for breakfast…or-“

Roanna had been so distracted that she didn’t even hear the two men armed with guns approaching her from behind. Her train of thought though was immediately disbanded when she felt what she at first assumed was a large gust of wind at her back, but at the apparent screaming of the two men who were seconds away from ending her life, she looked up.

Immediately, she saw the silhouette lined with the red and blue of the police cars of a pair of wings, and her jaw dropped. She was only able to watch for a couple of seconds as the winged man climbed higher and higher into the air until she had to shield her helmet visor with her hand from the search light of the helicopter, and the winged man was lost with it. Second later, two things happened. For one, the screams of the men that the winged man had dropped could be heard, however she never heard the impact of their falls since the night sky was immediately ablaze from the helicopter being blown to pieces. To Roanna, the exact cause was unknown, but she had to use this distraction to her advantage and get inside.

Still, without so much as a plan, Roanna began to run, out into the open and cutting across what used to be a firing range between the cops and the Hulk. She was expected to be fired on, but with a quick glance the muscled man was gone, and the cops were too busy running from something. But what? Looking in their direction, she quickly realized that the helicopter was beginning to plummet to the ground, ablaze and looking to kill a handful of the cops. She stopped and grit her teeth, her moral values suddenly coming into play. She wasn’t about to curse them out for not paying attention, hell she had her own life saved just second ago for the very same reason, she had no room to judge. So instead, she was going to pay it forward.

Extending out her right hand, she felt for the debris in the air that was just moments away from crashing to the ground below, and one by one, she blew up the larger pieces into dust, making the helicopter’s crash landing minimal in damage. By the time any of the police officers went to look at the strange, gangly person in the BMX outfit, she was already gone.

She had ran straight for the closest building wall that wasn’t the bank and began to climb up the fire-escape with such speed that only pure adrenaline could explain. It had to have been adrenaline, since her leg wasn’t even bothering her anymore, and she hoped to keep it that way. As she reached the roof of the building, looking over to the roof of the bank she saw just a glimpse of a man running to the stairs that led down into the building from the roof. From what she could tell in that split second, either the man was carrying a rather large backpack on his back, or it was the winged guy. She’d like to believe it was the second. At least then she knew that he was on her side…somewhat.

She jumped from one roof to the other, the gap between them only a few feet and the roof of the bank was slightly lower than the building she had jumped from. Upon landing, her injured leg throbbed lightly, but it wasn’t enough to keep her from going. She ran after the winged man, going down the stairs he had but at a slower pace in case he found her to be hostile and decided to drop her from a hundred feet in the air.

By the time she reached the level floor of the top of the building, she saw the tips of his wings disappear behind a wall, and then heard screaming. She quickly followed behind; again using the wall at a potential shield should things get ugly. She only caught the end of the fight, and the winged-man’s alias ‘Angel’ and tucked that bit of information away for later use. What surprised her, however, is that ‘Angel’ had left the room of hostages alone, and she could hear his footsteps only getting farther and farther away.

Again, going out into the open, Roanna made herself known to the frightened group and examined the zip-ties and rags in their mouths. She could just burn the zip-ties off, but even that could be a bit too…risky. She doubted she could do so without burning any of them in the process. So instead she began to pull the rags out of their mouths, one by one, and the room was immediately filled with their frightened voices.

“Be quiet!” She said to them, one at a time. “Do you want them to hear you? They’ll just come right up here and put bullets through us all if you don’t keep it down.” It was a threat, but not hers. She wouldn’t put it past old muscled man to do just that. Whatever it is that was going on, it was more than a bank robbery.

One of the hostages was helpful in the matter that he said he had a pocket knife in his back pocket. With a bit of potentially awkward wiggling and reaching, Roanna got the knife and began to cut them loose.

“Take the stairs up to the roof, you’ll be covered there. The police are outside so make sure that they know you are there before you start moving down.” She instructed, cutting the last zip-tie. Ignoring their thanks, Roanna slipped the pocket knife into her boot before following the path that the winged man had took just moments before.

IllAdvised

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Wednesday October 9, 2013

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Caught off guard as Makarios suddenly appeared taking out a man who was about to get the jump on him, Caleb's hand flew to his gun holster only to realize Makarios clearly had the situation under control as the man sunk to the floor unconscious.

"In all fairness, I did ask for your help in advance." Cal replied with a quick smirk beneath his paintball mask. "From what I can tell this is a very loud and impressive display of force for a gang. There's a hulk of a man walking about here, he took out the front of the building and if I had to guess he's probably the man in charge. The thing is he's obviously like you, gifted with incredible power, and from the looks of it he's a whole lot stronger. Lets hope he lacks your speed, and my brains."

Peeking around the desk he had chosen to use for cover, Cal saw the path was empty and turned to Makarios again.

"Looks like the coast is clear. They're probably all down in the vault by now. Evidently their escape route wasn't out the front, so that means they have a route through the back. Hopefully the city's police can figure out that much out too, but then that leaves us without a route out of here. I'm thinking the roof personally, with the right amount of velocity at the right angle, leaping to the adjacent roof shouldn't be too much of a problem. Sa..." Cal suddenly paused, tapping his hand to his headset. "You know you could really use a code name. If you're going to continue helping out, I'm going to need something to call you in the field. What's your hacker handle again?"

From outside the bank, Sam rolled her eyes sitting in the Volvo a few blocks away. "Cal, you're getting carried away but I suppose there's a certain amount of logic to that." She paused as she shook her head. "I go by Glitch online."

Turning back to Makarios, Cal continued his previous thought as he began to speak again. "Glitch is a few blocks away and will be able to pick us up with my car as soon as we're clear from the bank." His face fell slightly as he realized the problem would still be getting through the brute with the super strength. "Of course all of this is moot if we can't take down the hulking behemoth in the vault. Though I suppose we don't actually have to take him down so much as restrain him." Cal's eyes lit up as he realized the very solution before them. "The vault! We need to lock him in the vault!"

"That... might be plausible." Sam's voice filled Cal's ear as her sarcastic tone faded and was replaced by a slight tone of approval.

"C'mon, it's hero time."

"No battle cries!" Sam yelled over the headset loud enough that even Makarios could as Cal jumped slightly.

"Frak!" He hissed, "Oh and you can call me IllAdvised while we're doing this. It's a code name Sa.. Glitch came up with for me." Cal added with a smirk as his trench coat swished behind him as he motioned for Makarios to follow him as he headed towards the vault. Descending down the stairs, it wasn't more than fifty steps before Cal and Makarios would find themselves in the room outside the vault. Only Tony and three gang bangers stood in the room as Cal looked around at them as his head started to spin. Looking at the first guy, Cal felt the world suddenly stop around him as he took in his surroundings, noting where the man's weapon was, his hand going towards it, where his eyes were looking. Cal made his move, rolling out of the man's line of sight as he raised his own weapon, firing a shot at the man's chest only to hit him in the leg. Rushing forward, Cal drew his tazer, jumping as he drove the weapon into the man's neck as the crackle of electricity echoed through the round room. Turning, he saw the other two drawing weapons as the giant of man roared at Cal and Makarios.

What have I gotten myself into?
"Frak."

Thomas had made his way into the bank, following the loud noises the behemoth made. He didn't bother to look behind him, he had already checked every detail of the rooms he had passed, none of the thugs were left concious, or in combat-capable shape. People didn't really enjoy fighting with broken ribs and limbs´. Thomas twirled the baton in his hand, making his way further into the bank. His senses were sharp, he took in every detail, from the layout of the building, to the small spider crawling up the line of web from the roof.

He heard Voices now, Thomas picked up his pace, still walking silently, he stuck to a wall, around a corner to avoid being seen. He turned the corner, seeing two masked men, obviously not thugs, their outfits were too crude. Great. More fodder. Thomas thought, as he picked up what one of them, the shorter one said about putting the guy into the vault. Thomas figured the bank would probably have some kind exhaust system to put gas inside of the vault to knock out people who'd try and rob it, it's the kind of security options he himself would've used, should he be the owner of a bank. Then again, Thomas figured they had already killed all the security systems in the bank.

Thomas saw the behemoth of a man, and it dawned on him, the man wasn't human, not a regular human, at least. He was something else, someone... Different. He couldn't explain why, but the Texan felt excited to 'meet' the behemoth. All the while he resented the beast of a man for all the horrible things he had done on this night.

Thomas stepped out of his cover, facing the vault, a 10 meter stretch between him and the Vault door. Thomas did take into account how close the other two masked men were to the thugs, he only hoped the two would be smart enough to run, because, as far as Thomas knew, no one had a chance against the strength of the guy whom was right now ripping the steel boxes the money was held in like they were plastic wrappers for candy. He cleared his throat, and then he cracked his neck. The two gunmen whom were still standing weren't paying attention to the Texan at all, whom with a scoff, Extended the wings he had been keeping out of sight, The white feathers spreading five meters across the bank. Both the gunmen fired at the winged man, the shock of what they had seen making them, albeit temporarily forget about the two other masked men closer to them.

As they fired their bullets. Thomas rolled to the side, he knew he couldn't protect against that with his wings, not if he planned on flying for the rest of the week, at least. Thomas dashed up from his cover, and gaining a few feet of altitute with a single flap of his wings, he dashed the 10 meter stretch towards the three thugs, he arrived in the gunman's face, elbowing him out cold.

“You two better run. You're a little out of your league here.” Thomas told the two other masked vigilantes, his voice was filled with sincere worry, like he expected them both to get hurt, or worse, if they stayed.

Tony put down the box, and swung at Thomas, whom dodged, narrowly, and sent a jab into Tony's ribs. His punch didn't even seem to tickle. Thomas let out a grunt, as he spun around, using the Baton in his right hand, he swung it for Tony's knee, This time, the Behemoth let out a slight grunt of pain. “Fuck Off” Tony let out as he swung his hand, like he was swatting a fly, his hand colliding with Thomas's face, sending the winged vigilante a few feet into the air, before he skidded on the floor.

“Shit.”