Welcome to Paradise!


The sky was a clear sky blue, in a parallel of beauty with the crystal pristine ocean water below. Temperatures were moderate as a warm summer wind caused tiny ripples to roll over the surface of the water. The sun shone vividly keeping the weather at a level, comfortable temperature, a perfect day. A single cloud slowly puttered its way across the sky like a fluffy, puffy snail.
The soothing caws of seagulls were deafened by the screech of a jet engine, a loud roar that disturbed the picturesque scene with its artificial, out of place noise. The fluffy snail split in two as the Jet pushed through the poor cloud creature's side like an arrow, unfortunately it looked as if the snail would not survive.

The Jet was large and capable of carrying a small sum of 50 people. Though a small capacity it carried them all in first class with their own personal seats. On its tail fin was an intricate design of angel wings. The metal beast cast a shadow over the water as it glided through the air towards the island, which in the distance looked strange, a large protrusion that sat alone in the middle of a flat blue plain. The island was circular in shape with beaches going around the circumference of the land mass. At the center of the island was a single peak that's tip tickled the sky. At the mountains base, it was surrounded with lush vermillion jungle that stretched all around from the mountains to the beaches. A large crashing waterfall seemed to pour from halfway up the mountain to an inland lake in the jungle. Among these pieces of nature's splendor sat a large, man-made structure located on the beach. The facility, while dwarfed by the mountain, was definitely not small. The structure was wide and extended along the beach. It was covered in windows and had balconies facing the sea. A patio at the base of the building had a pool among other recreational activities. Down the steps of the patio led right onto the beach where another facility was located. Much less spectacular than the large building, the short stubby building stretched along the base of the taller structure and was connected to a small courtyard made from a cutout area in the jungled.

The large building was Puriel's main headquarters,"Eden", this was where the secretive administrators of Puriel's entire operations were located, only certain rank A members and S rank members were even allowed to use the exclusive recreational facilities and living quarters within the building. The shorter small building that stuck up from the jungle and creeped a bit onto the beachfront was "Nod", the training facility for upcoming heroes. Nod was a cone rising from above the trees around it with a wing that went through the jungle and exited onto the beachfront.

The Jumbo Jet let out a screech as it touched down on the run way behind Nod. The runway was surrounded by trees and was bustling with the activity of the other recruits hoping to catch a glimpse of the new ones coming in on the plane. The plane had traveled all around the world, starting in Japan and traveling from country to country. It was the last of the 4 to arrive, with its arrival all recruits had been assembled. It would be a few years before Puriel decided to go out and find more potential again.

As soon as the airplane tires hit the ground, Hanzō's eyelids flickered open, his mechanical eyes spun around and dilated its pupils before adjusting and returning to the appearance of normal eyes. He had sat silently without moving the entire flight the whole 47 hours only stopping to eat short portions and use the bathroom briefly. The people within the plane slowly stirred to life as they too pulled themselves from their comfortable seats for the first time in hours. Nimbly, Hanzō lept from his seat to a standing position. He stretched his body extensively, a cramp within ones own body in combat could be a fatal problem. The aisle was wide enough to allow himself space to stretch his legs and arms, shadowboxing his forms as he readjusted his breath for the change in altitude. Satisfied, Hanzō clicked open the container above his seat and grabbed his carry ons, a ragged burlap sack containing his extra clothes and his two Ninja-blades , "Koga" and "Iga", the two blades had solid black hilts and black carbon sheathes, like two slivers of midnight. Hanzō slung the blades over his right shoulder with his sack of clothes.

An announcement came over the intercom system.

"Welcome to Paradise, Recruits, this is the Nod landing strip, you are the last 50 of the new 200 recruits to arrive here. We have flown for a total of 47 hours and it is currently noon exactly and weather conditions are absolutely fantastic here today. Doors on the front and back of the plane will be opening shortly. Our staff have already begun unloading your other luggage aside from your carry-ons outside. Upon reclaiming your luggage you will be divided into your barracks by a trainer. Barracks are shared rooms built for 12 people with Barracks 17 having only 8 people, they will be the people you train with and work with to make yourselves the best heroes you can be. Please stay away from the tall building on the beachside, Eden is only for administrators and high-ranked Heroes. Here is a basic map of the facility, be sure to memorize it quickly as it will be the only map you will see."

A hologram appeared in the aisle detailing a miniature Nod facility, It was fairly simple. The wing protruding from the cone was a hallway of the 17 Barracks, 9 Barracks on one side of the hallway and 8 Barracks on the other side. Barracks #17 was the one located at the end of the wing and touched the beach. Each Barracks had its own secure door in the hallway, retina scan opened. Inside was a large open comfortable room with bunk-beds along the walls in the center was a long spherical couch that surrounded a fairly big coffee table. A door in the barracks next to the entrance led to a joint bathroom with shower stalls on one side of the room and bathroom stalls on the other. Cubby holes were on each bunk bed for the storing of equipment. It was sickeningly like a summer camp. The cone was 5 stories high, the 5th story being the airway control tower.
The hallway from the barracks wing led to the 1st floor. The largest floor, An indoor track and pool are located here. In front of a neatly decorated atrium that houses the entrance to the outside path to the airstrip. Floor 2 is the weight room, various exercise machines are set up here for general workouts. Floor 3 is the sparring and combat room. Nonlethal weapons are available for mostly "safe" practice. The room is extremely durable and can handle powers of all types. Floor 4 is the ranking room. It is secret.

Hanzō was the first out the plane. The warm rays of sunlight would normally make someone who's eyes who had been inside for a long time squint, but Hanzō did not his pupils rotated, dilated and shrunk as they adjusted to the bright natural light. He picked up his large suitcase which had been laid out among the other luggage at the base of the steps. He noticed a man walking towards the people who were trickling out of the plane, he was the trainer who would give their further instructions.

Mary woke with a start, gasping for air as she was released from the slimy grip of her nightmares. They haunted her, the memories of her victims. The ethereal visits did little to deter her, however. She would put up with any amount of unearthly pestering, so long as she went to sleep with a wad of cash resting neatly under her pillow.

She hadn't been used to the luxury provided by the flight- it was almost uncomfortable. For a large portion of her life, she had lived from paycheck to paycheck (or victim to victim, if you prefer). She felt glad to remove herself from the sickeningly soft seats, stretching out as she stood. Taking a brief glance around, she took a moment to catch the faces of a few people.

Mary didn't catch much of the intercoms speech, but she retained a few important things... Mostly that Eden looked like somewhere she wanted to be, preferably uninvited. That's what makes it fun. Lagging within the plane for awhile longer than most others, she took a moment to check her luggage. She hadn't really had anything that she could take with her. Simply her knives, a few bottles of assorted hallucinogens and booze, and a small photograph of sentimental value. She kept these items with her at all times, not willing to let them go.

Upon securing her possessions, she stepped out of the plane, into the sun. Her eyes were forcefully jammed shut by the rough grasp of unwelcome sunlight, as her hands raised up instinctively, covering her face. Even without having had a 47 hour flight before, Mary wasn't exactly a fan of bright lights. Most of her time was spent in the dark, where she thrived. For her, daytime was more often a time of rest.

As soon as her eyes adjusted, and she could see through squinted eyelids, she took a look around, waiting for someone who sounded like they knew what they were doing to say something. She swept her eyes around nervously. These people were all trained to... Do their things. Antsy, Mary took one of her longer bladed knives out, and began idly flipping it through the air, watching the sun bounce off of the polished steel in erratic patterns, while still keeping a cautious eye on the others.

47 Hours.

That's how long Alexandria was left with her thoughts, to anyone that bothered looking at her the sunglasses and headphones giving the illusion that she was asleep, but to her it seemed life a lifetime, constantly replaying the past couple of days, placing her father in the ground, the constant fights, the drinking, and how her last words were a letter telling him that she was finally going to make him proud, the nagging guilt that it was her letter that pushed him over the edge, it was because of her that he let his gun kiss him goodbye.

All these thoughts and more circled around her mind as she kept one hand resting on the small smooth gun on her right hip, the left hand supported her chin as she gazed out the window watching the scenery and clouds pass by her while the plane descends towards some unknown destination.

Must be nice to be a cloud, to go where you please and never have any worries, no responsibilities, just exist...heh...but reality is a lot crueler and a lot harsher, the weak are preyed on and others suffer for it, even those that have nothing to do with other peoples petty strifes...guess that's why I stepped on this plane, to see if I can change that..

Alex was snapped out of her thoughts by a blaring intercom causing her to jump her gun half pulled from it's hostler before relaxing listening and absorbing the information given. "Guess it's time.." she mused softly to herself flicking some of her hair back out her face a small smile on her lips as she got up stretching, purring slightly as her back popped and realigned itself.

Reaching up in the over head compartment Alexandria retrieved her small duffel bag filled with various clothing and gun repair tools, not that she doubted that they had any she could use, it for a more sentimental reassurance and the face she knew they were reliable.

Shifting into the flow of traffic, she made her way gracefully off the plane, the sunshine glancing off and filtering through her shades enjoying the warm sunshine, momentarily reminded of home, before walking over to the luggage pile spotting a long black metal case kneeling down to pop it open smiling fondly at the gun staring back at her.

Closing the case, she picked it up slipping the strap across her chest the cool metal resting on her back before she wandered over to where others were waiting stopping next to a man carrying two swords, looking over at the different buildings.

"So this is Puriel.." Alex muttered to herself reaching up and pushing the sunglasses back up on to her head holding her hair out her face.

"F*ck

The one word that kept resurfacing in all the muddled thoughts.

F*ck

Alex had been sitting in the plane for hours, his arm propped up on the arm rest, his chin snug in his palm. He starred out at the vast blue and thought many different things. Things like memories, things like aspirations, things like people. His teeth grinding slowly across each other repeatedly as he idled the hours away, he reflected on his past, what had he done to get stuck with this old shtick again?

oh right...

F*ck

That was a mess if he had ever made one. Dismissed with a exaggerated sigh his thoughts scurried off to the darker corners of his mind, awaiting to resurface and haunt him later. Alex looked about his seating area, tapping his fingers sporadically on whatever surface they judged to have a decent percussion. He was scanning for something to do, someone to talk to. He had taken this flight before, and it felt just as long this time around, sitting still for so long with nothing to was driving Alex sane. Not something Alex ever really hoped for.

Welcome to paradise...

A familiar message relayed throughout the flying bus. "Oh thank god" Alex stated desperately to nobody. He needed to get off this damn thing, it plagued him with a dreadfully comfortable feeling he couldn't shake off. He needed darkness, real, artificial, darkness.

Just as the plane touched down and began to slow, Alex managed to stand up, the joints in his long arms creaking and making audible popping noises as he motioned to retrieve his bag from overhead. His suitcase which contained the many different sets of similar clothes he had, and if he had not just been on probation, his familiars as well. "Poor Greg, Alice and Anne...darlings are probably itching to move just as much as I am..." Alex muttered as he continued to move about, adjust, retrieve and motion until he was allowed off the accursed travel catalyst. He floated along with his shadow quickly down the stairs and into the luggage, to retrieve his other, larger, sturdier suitcase. He used it as a shield against the disgustingly perfect sunlight. As he watched a man he had never seen, yet he was all too familiar with, approach.

A man who would soon, tell the small group many things, things such as what they can and cannot do (Which Alex personally felt was just a suggestion) Things they should say, things they should think and things they should be. All of which, Alex had heard before, it was all going to be uniform, proper, and helpful. Three words not used to describe anything Alex enjoyed. He let a ghoul of air escape his lungs once more in the form of a sigh as he waited for the man to start barking whatever leader like things he had to say. Another annoyed tapping began, as Alex's impatient foot began dancing with the hard airways jet black asphalt.

F*ck

Stefan was fascinated. He really was. He'd been fascinated ever since he was contacted by the scary man in the designer suit and expensive brand shades. Funny how the stereotype wasn't so laughable when you were contacted by a legit, real life Man in Black/Agent, asked a wierd question and then handed a phone with wierd specific instructions. You'd figure a superhero association would be less secretive and have nicer recruiters, right? Whatever the case, he was certainly fascinated by the whole situation. Being a wandering hero had been great, he'd spent a good couple of years helping people as both Stefan Stein and Helion Strahl, wandering the countryside and working for what he needed and others could provide, but this was the next step it would appear. He was moving on from "street level" into bigger and greater things.

The ridiculously long flight was an experience he could've done without, however. A total of two days spent on a plane. The single longest non-stop flight time recorded, according to an aviation enthusiast he'd worked for once, was 18 hours and 50 minutes.They probably hadn't circumnavigated the globe but they had to have come close, and while that was impressive in and of itself Stefan just had to wonder why he'd been stuck in a plane for so long. The lack of teleporters or special faster than thought possible planes was certainly dissapointing. He hadn't known what to expect but being stuck in a giant flying waiting room, however nice it was, certainly hadn't come to mind. And since the rest of the people on the plane didn't seem particularly sociable, he was left to pass the time on his own.

And time passed, slowly. After what seemed like a near-infinite amount of snacks (at least one of each type available), drinks (at least one cup of every type) and plenty of sleeping (an experience he never got tired of, hah), they finally...FINALLY arrived at their destination. And Stefan was lulled out of boredom to be fascinated yet again. The announcer had called it Paradise, and it sounded about right, it was certainly the nicest place Stefan had ever seen in his whole life, and he was here to learn how to be a hero. It was good to be alive. He had no belongings sans the clothes he was wearing, a reasonably new set, so he focused solely on getting out of the plane and taking in the sights once his eyes adjusted to the light. Nevermind the map he'd learn it later.

He couldn't wait for it all to start, but for the moment he was busy looking at Mary flipping her knife in the air. That was pretty cool, he'd never seen anyone do that. Approaching the girl with a friendly stride and earnest smile on his face, he kept his eyes on the knife as he adressed her "That's so cool! How'd you learn to do that? I'd probably slice my fingers right off if I tried".

Hanzō's pupils rotated as he zoomed in on the man who was walking towards the group that was gathering on the airstrip. He was an older man, compared to the generally young group of recruits, he looked to be in his late-30s. The man wore a combat vest and military combat pants, he wore them well with his buff build and worn, scarred face.

Hanzō, returned his vision to normal and began to observe the rest of his fellow recruits. They all seemed like a generally unusual bunch. Even the normal looking ones were probably hiding something. This entire trip had been something baffling, he had never flown in an airplane before and did not care for it much at all, all of the technology and the luxuries were things he wasn't generally accustomed to. He had heard that outside of the places he had lived there were all sorts of things that he'd have to struggle to obtain, but he never imagined free packets of food and free water everywhere he went. His life had been secular and modest, living every day without wasting anything, but people out here seemed to discard leftover food like garbage, excessively strange. There was a girl beside him with blonde hair, she was one of the more ordinary looking ones. His eyes scanned her and found a few weapons on her person, he couldn't tell clearly but he had caught a glimpse of a large firearm in her suitcase.

"So this is Puriel.." She muttered to herself as she removed her sun glasses.

Hanzō hadn't really ever communicated with a westerner before, particularly a woman. It seemed as if this facility would be somewhat teamwork oriented in training so being on amicable terms with other recruits would definitely assist in speeding up the training process. He was confident in his English as it was one of the languages he studied during his training, though silence was his forte, he would have to adapt to his environment.

He spoke to the girl, "Yes, it is far from what I could've imagined," his voice wavered and vibrated as he spoke like he was talking through a fan, "I am Hanzō," he said with an informal bow, "I hope we get along."
It was the first time had even spoken in a few days and his voice didn't fail to surprise himself everytime he spoke. He had at least talked clearly, though it felt a bit awkward. It would seem like teamwork would still be difficult.

Mary turned to meet the man who spoke to her, a bit flustered. She almost dropped her knife, as she had to avoid her instinct to put the knife up to his throat. Fumbling with it for a moment, she cursed herself mentally. [u]'Perfect. Way to make a first impression. I thought we were supposed to be intimidating!'[/i] She tended to talk to herself... a lot. Luckily, she usually managed to keep it in her head.

'Of course, they have to talk to me. Ugh.' She wasn't exactly a people person. She only got along with people who had knives hilt deep in their skull. Nevertheless, she put on a painfully fake smile, and composed herself. After all, she would have to deal with these people for quite awhile. "Oh, this is nothing. Just something I've picked up on the path of being a vigilante and whatnot." She said, her voice dripping with fake kindness and innocence. "So, what brings you here? Have anything fancy, or do you just like hurting bad guys? I saw a few people earlier who could do some pretty weeeeeird things." Though the question was under the guise of friendly conversation, Mary was really using it for knowledge, to gauge the competition. For Mary, everything was a competition if money was involved.

A slight frown ran over her face. "Oh, I'm so sorry! Where are my manners!" She said, extending her hand. "My names Mary, my friends call me Bloody Mary, my enemies call me a b*tch. Who would I have the pleasure of meeting?" She asked, dropping her knife into a sheath at her waist. The man had seemed rather friendly as he walked up, a clear indicator that they wouldn't get along.

Vince shifted uncomfortably in his chair, looking terrible. He’d never been comfortable with flying in a plane. When you can fly on your own, there is always something so…fundamentally wrong about sitting in a metal tube, held aloft a mile in the air by heavy metal engines and shaped steel. Aside from the surreality of modern flight, there were two other things affecting his mood. Mainly, it was the idea that he, effectively a human napalm fountain, was stuck in a thin metal high over an ocean.

A flare up now would likely kill everyone on board, probably him as well. The though made the bile in his stomach rise threateningly, his face paling. He wanted to not be on board anymore. He wanted to be back in Belgium, take a nap in the homeless shelter, and eat his crappy soup in his crappy bed. His breath starts to become ragged as a panic attack begins to set in, his neighbors giving him queer looks (though, to be fair to them, it was probably because he smelt like a smoked garbage can at the moment, Puriel not having given him much of a chance to shower before shoving him on a plane).

He stands up quickly, “E….excuse me” he mumbles in English quickly, pushing his way to the bathroom. He sits there for twenty or thirty minutes, returning the inflight meal and trying to calm down. The bathroom jars roughly as the plane touches down, Vince quietly listening as the announcements played, hugging the porcelain (in this case, quite literally) throne. Exhausted, and now hungry, he stands up, deciding he should probably leave before someone yells at him. Wincing, he quickly washes his hands, the cold water feeling like molten glass across his skin. Thankfully, he didn’t have a carry on, not really needing one, considering the whole of his possessions fit into a plastic bag. Quickly he gets off the plane, standing around uncomfortably. He silently hoped he had missed an announcement made by the staff or something.

47 hours. Samuel Spectre sat in his chair, and pondered. Four Seven. Forty Seven hours would have broken a lesser man, but lesser men were not the Phantom Skull. Samuel used that time to recollect the events that had led him to this plane ride...

He had been investigating the Curious Case of the Copper Caper. A rogue costumed scientist had been slowly stealing the world's supply of copper, for what purpose, Samuel did not know. He was getting ready to put the sting on the Copper Crook before someone, something, interrupted him. An agent of Puriel. He asked his question, and handed off the phone. Samuel remembered asking the man 'Who are you? How can I trust you?'. The man was gone. Only then did Samuel realize that he couldn't; that was just how the game was played.

And play the game he would. He finally stood up, stretching as he did so. He flexed his phantom muscle, something he could not feel with his body, but instead with his soul. His body turned wispy as he faded into his spectral form and then rematerialized in place. He reached up and grabbed his carry on, a large briefcase that held his trench coat. His guns were stored safely in the suit case he had brought with, he had figured it wasn't worth sneaking them in with him.

He walked to the exit of the plane, gasping in pain as the light hit his eyes. He stepped forward and tripped, stumbling out of the plane and onto the ground, screaming all the way. First impressions were everything. Let the masses think less of him, that gave him the edge.

"Oh, sorry about that, didn't mean to startle you. Didn't hurt yourself did you?" Stefan asked as he shook Mary's hand in earnest with a smile on his face, though he frowned a bit when she got to the "bitch" comment. Whether he picked up on the fakeness of the woman's smile and her forced tones was anyone's guess. He didn't show it if he did, but it was hard to imagine someone like him being two-faced like that, much too honest and well meaning for that. "I'm Stefan Stein and I never kept track of what people called me, though I guess I'm one of those wierdos you mentioned, hahaha. I've picked up on a lot of stuff of late but I never learned to handle knives or any weapons like that, it's really cool that you can do that. It's 'cause I don't really like hurting others, bad guys or not, I'd much rather just help people instead, you know?".

Speaking of helping people and before he could tell her about his powers (not their origins though, he still wasn't keen on talking about all that having died stuff), Stefan could hear a scream coming from the plane. Turning around, he saw someone rolling down the airstairs and right into the ground, and not in the cool acrobatic way but in the "landed like a sack of potatoes, holy crap is that guy okay" way. Forgetting about Mary, he dashed right to where Samuel had faceplanted without saying a word to her. It was just the natural thing for him to do. "Talk about the dangers of being a hero, eh?" He quipped as he knelt next to the fallen man, trying to help him up. "You okay there bro? You're looking a bit...diffuse".

HD arrived at where the group of new recruits had gathered. This batch of recruits seemed like an...interesting bunch. He approached the group with a cool calculating gaze and a grim demeanor. He examined each of the faces he saw and checked them with his mental clipboard, it seemed as if everything was in order, though some fool had fallen down the plane steps. HD let out a sigh as he watched the man stumble down the steps. HD checked his face with the Puriel database and came up with the name 'Samuel Spectre', whether it was his real name or not he didn't really care, whoever he was, he wouldn't be the type to make himself seem a fool in front of groups of people by the end of his training. He noticed an ordinary looking boy rush over to help the man, seems like he was one of the Boy Scouts. In Puriel's ranks, HD liked to call the ones who joined for the common good 'Boy Scouts', they were usually obnoxious but more often than not, they turned out to be fairly determined. Then there were the 'Needy', the people who just wanted something from the organization, whether it be money or fun, they were the most common folk who joined up.

"SPECTRE! Pick your SORRY-ASS UP OFF THE GROUND!" He barked, breaking his cool silence into angry shouting. "LISTEN UP YOU LAZY PIECES OF SHIT! THIS IS NOD, or in some cases GODDAMN HELL!" He roared as he spoke , an angry vein looked like it was going to pop on his neck as his face turned red. A tall and scary scarred face like his looked a lot scarier when it appeared like it was going to explode. "LISTEN UP YOU ASSHOLES! IM GOING TO READ YOUR BARRACK ASSIGNMENTS REAL QUICKLY, AND IF YOU DON'T GET IT, well, YOU'RE SHIT OUT OF LUCK!"

How he read all 50 names and barrack assignments from memory with the same level of volume in under 10 minutes is truly a mystery. He finished with Barracks 17, also known as the Quebec barracks.

"QUEBEC BARRACKS! BOYS ROOMS- HATTORI HANZŌ, ALEX GREENVEIL, SAM SPECTRE, STEFAN STEIN, VINCENT MYSKA, EVAN ADAMS!
GIRLS ROOMS- MARY OSWALD, ALEXANDRIA WHYTE!

THAT IS ALL, REPORT TO YOUR BARRACKS FOR TODAY AND MEET HERE ON THE AIRSTRIP TOMORROW AT 0600, DON'T LATE!"

Slowly, HD took a deep breath and regained his composure after his excessive amount of shouting towards the large group. As quickly and quietly as he arrived, he left the group to themselves to find their way to the barracks where all the other recruits who had already arrived, were.

Tilting her head Alex watched the approaching figure curiously being able to make out a few minor details enough to distinguish him as male before a cool robotic voice from her right startled her out of her thoughts, instinctively reaching for her Beretta before shaking her head dropping her hand turning to look and face the ninja-esque man, looking him over with the same curiosity she had looked at everything else with.

'Definitely not at home any more, far from it actually..' She thought to herself dryly keep in that thought to herself before shrugging slightly smiling at the man, "Hmm, guess so though I figured they be rather endowed seeing they could pick all of us up without seemingly having any issues with any government." Alex replied thoughtfully watching the man bow smoothly toward her stating his name, 'Hanzo, huh..' the same curiosity was still present in her eyes as she adopted his mannerisms bowing back slightly towards the man.

"Nice to meet you, the names Alexandria, most people just call me Alex though, I hope we get along." She replied back casually as she straightened up in time too see well more so hear someone fall out the plane turning to gaze back towards the exit ramp as a man toppled down it someone else detaching from their conversation with a knife wielding woman to aid the man, 'Hmmm...how odd..' She thought to herself chewing slightly on her lower lip a nervous habit she falls back on every time she concentrates or focuses on something.

Focused on that she failed to notice then man had finally made his way to the group until his deep growling bark echoed out over the group, once more making her turn around her left hand resting on her gun holster ss she mentally berated herself for the lack of attention.

Even if she was somewhere designated to train them into heroes she doubted it was safe to let ones guard down, relaxing again she winced softly hearing him chew out the one who fell from the plane making a mental note of the man's name as the trainer continued to bark out various information including room and barracks assignments before stalking off once more.

"Well he was a cheerful one..." Alex commented sighing slightly reaching up to pull her sunglasses off using the same motion to run a hand through her hair before depositing the shades back on to the brim of her nose, smiling at Hanzo again, "Seems we're in the same barracks." She commented before looking at the retreating figure once more.

'Welcome to hell, huh...'

Mary smiled when she saw Specter fall on his face, she couldn't resist physical humor. She rubbed the slight cut from fumbling the knife earlier, smearing a trace speck of blood across her hands. She sighed, knowing that the cut would linger for quite awhile, a nuisance she could do nothing about. Well, there was plenty that she could do. Whether or not it was worth her time was debatable.

It took just about all of her self control to keep herself from laughing out loud at the man who was yelling. He seemed to have came straight from every cliche war movie she could think of. Nevertheless, she listened intently, not wanting to be some odd sore thumb, some directionless toddler among the hustle and bustle that would surely ensue as the wannabe heroes all went to their barracks. When she heard her name, she paid special attention to those she would be with.

'Alexandria Whyte? Welcome to my little world...'

She thought to herself, looking through the crowd, wondering who the lucky lady was. Shrugging, she pulled out a bottle of booze, taking a large gulp. She shot a look back at Stefan, a bit disappointed in his goody-two-shoes behavior, be it an act to gain favor, or simply his thought process. She had made a note of the males in Barracks 17, as they would be close, and she would want to get to know them if she was going to have any fun. Of course, her fun involved hallucinogens, and far too much blood. Without allowing her mind to go too far down that train of thought, she turned abruptly, to search for the barracks.

Evan ducked his head down as he stepped out from the plane, using his hand for support. He gazed out at the others spread out on the strip before throwing his arms up in the air. "Like, seriously? None of ya were gonna wake me up? That's real considerate-like," he shouted spitefully. Can't believe that plane ride was so smooth. Whole thing feels unreal. Shit, this looks like the set of some movie. He casually strode down the steps, taking in his flight companions for the first time. He hadn't been able to get a good look from where he'd been seated.

Crazy Ninja Dude, check. Neckbeard Nerd, check. Weirdo in a trenchcoat, check. Well, hell-o. His left eyebrow arched above his sunglasses. At least it wasn't a total boy's club. He broke his stare, noticing Hard Drive walking briskly from the tarmac. "So, uh, who was that? What'd I miss? C'mon, talk to me here!" After a pause, he turned his head towards Alexandria, flashing a sideways smile at her. "Hey there." The wink was lost behind the shades.

"Hey, yeah, yeah, I'm alright, just a few scrapes is all!" He said, as he picked himself up, and dusted off his clothes. "Hey, hey, thanks, man." He said, smiling at the no doubt dim witted oaf who helped him. He would need allies like these in his hunt to fight crime, better to make friends instead of enemies! He held his hand out, a gesture of good will. "The name's Sam, Sam Spectre, but my REAL name is Phantom Skull!" He said, cheerfully.

All that cheer was gone, however, once the Authority reared his ugly head. "I'm up, I'm up!" He called out, before shrugging as the good man read off their housing. Inwardly, he analyzed the man. Tough looking, even tougher sounding. But with that armor, how tough was he really? Obviously with his need to shout and assert his authority he was overcompensating for something.

Upon further consideration, Samuel realized that possibly the adage of 'those who can't, teach' applied here. This man, surely could not be anything special. He was not old enough to be a veteran, someone retired from active heroing, so who was he? He wasn't a has been, he was a never was, and, was a true shame. Samuel realized that he could not respect this man, and so he would undermine him, not strategically, but in farcialities.

"Geeze, get a load of captain hard ass, huh?" He muttered to his new friend. What was his name...?

Vince flinched as Specter fell down the ramp. He flinched as the teacher (he assumed anyway.) barked loudly for attention. He flinched as the same man screamed out barrack assignments. In fact, there probably wasn’t much in that ten minute time frame where his current status did not contain the phrase ‘flinched at x’.

He raised his hand after HD finished, wanting to ask directions or where they pick up their luggage, only to be ignored. Slowly he retracts his arm, looking at his fellow students. They did not inspire much confidence. He takes a deep breath, trying to figure out what he should do. ”I…guess it is kind of like the homeless shelters back home…” he thinks, relaxing a bit as the familiar sensation of serene confusion(either by ignorance or dementia), and remembers rule number one of being homeless. The drunk know what they are doing and are the least dangerous.

He looks around somewhat frantically, figuring the odds of finding someone with alcohol being slim in this group. He sighs, relieved, as he spots a brunette with a bottle of hooch. He shuffles over quickly, trying not to lose her. “Um Excuse me miss!” He calls after her, his voice coming off more like a squeak than a demand. “Uh…you... wouldn’t know how we’re supposed to get our uh…bags and stuff right? Or…where the um…dorms are?”

"Nice to meet you, the names Alexandria, most people just call me Alex though, I hope we get along."

Hanzō smiled politely and spoke, his voice warbling, "It is nice to meet you as well Ms. Alex, It is also my hope we can get along." He turned his attention towards the angry man who began shouting towards the group. He appeared to be an angry man who lacked inner neutrality, yet there was something more. He listed every name of the new group of recruits from memory as well as their Barrack assignments, quite a noticeable feat for someone who appeared to favor brawn over brains. It was to be expected, this was an island filled with people who had been deemed potential heroes, obviously something must be unique about oneself in order to be found with that potential. Hanzō looked around him, these people, no matter what they seemed, were all powerful in their own respects, something that made Puriel find them.

"Seems we're in the same barracks."

Hanzō returned his attention from his observations back to earth, "It does seem that fortune smiles on us today, Ms. Alex.", He replied with a smile. He looked towards the entrance of the conical structure at the edge of the airstrip in the jungle. 'The wing should be through that building and Quebec should be at the edge of the hall.' He thought. A few of the new recruits had begun making their way to the barracks, he had to put his metal briefcase away and closer examination of his new living quarters would prove useful.

Smiling at Hanzo's reply, Alexandria stretched slightly watching the others head towards the cone shape building, observing them as they walked by skeptical that all of them would make it through training if the angry man from earlier would have anything to say about it, though she was slightly disappointed there was only one other female in the barracks wondering vaguely for a second what type of woman she would be living with before shaking her head slightly hearing someone else speak out to her.

"Alex is fine, there's no need for the ms part." She commented the same warm smile still lingering on her lips, before turning to address the man who had spoken to her, coming face to face with her own reflection shinning from the man's shade tilting her head slightly.

"Hmmm, Hiya?" She replied easily adjust the strap to her suitcase tapping lightly against the strap feeling the urge to clean the gun and check it over wanting to make sure the flight didn't damage it glancing once more at the building not sure of the complete infrastructure but knowing where the barracks would be located at.

'Like summer camp all over again,' She mused humming softly to herself, a small shiver of apprehension and adrenaline coursing through her at the thought of being able to save others from what she dealt with, yet she knew that every choice in life brings consequences curiously wandering what this one was going to bring.

Stefan shook Sam's hand as heartily as he'd shaken Mary's. His smile, which had vanished as he went to help the man, returned when he confirmed that he was indeed alright despite the fall. He was still oddly wispy, true, but he figured it had something to do with the Phantom Skull moniker and it wasn't like Stefan wasn't just as strange, he could just hide it if he wanted to. Now the question was, should he refer to the man as Sam or Phantom Skull? He was pretty sure no parent would name their kids that, but he did feel as though at least part of him was truly Helion Strahl, beyond just being a cool name for a superhero alter ego, so he could sort of understand where the whole "real name" thing was coming from. Better to just ask, right? "I'm Stefan, Stefan Stein, but I'm also Helion Strahl. I'm fine with both, so what should I call you?"

Before their conversation could go on any longer they were rather rudely interrupted by who he assumed was one of the drill instructors on the island, potentially their very own Gunnery Sergeant Hartman. Funny, he was pretty sure the U.S. Military had instituted laws and regulations against that kind of behavior. A reject from those parts, perhaps, come to a private organization where he could engage in that kind of demeanor unobstructed? This Puriel group certainly had the pull and the place, but he expected something...nicer? More open? He couldn't quite put a word on it yet, but he expected different from a superhero association. The man's rambling was basically meaningless to Stefan beyond telling him he was supposed to head to the Canada (?) Barracks along with Sam. Phantom. Whatever, he had no idea where that was supposed to be.

Ignoring the heavy sleeper who'd just gotten out of the plane, strolling down the stairs and walking right past them shouting about not being woken up, he gave Sam/Phantom a thumbs up "Guess we're room-mates now. You wouldn't happen to know where the uuuh...Montreal barracks are at, would you? Because I don't have a clue".

Evan took a moment to look over his shoulder at Stefan and Samuel. These guys are superheroes? Man, what is this weak joke being played on me.... But then, Evan was no hero either. He just did what he could for his block. I just hope I'm back home before anybody realizes I'm out of town. He was growing more uncomfortable with the reality of the situation each second that passed.

"-Alex is fine, there's no need for the miss part..."

The voice pulled him from his thoughts. He turned back around. "Alex, huh? I'm uh," he trailed off, glancing around. He drew two quick breaths through his nose, and his eyes narrowed on Vince ever so briefly. The moment was nearly imperceptible before his attention turned back to Alex. "Uh, Evan," he finished, brushing his hand through his red and orange streaked hair. Dropping his arm to his side, he slid both hands into the pockets of his jeans. "So, man, what is the deal with this? Did G.I. Joe say what's going on?"