Mantis drove through downtown Denver deep in thought. After deciphering the true meaning of the intelligence they acquired at the warehouse, Mantis took it upon himself to make use of it. What good was information if it was never acted upon? The others decided to go after the Community through a different avenue..
The other villains of the city were gathering together to formulate a plan to take on The Community. What annoyed him the most was not that they were meeting together, but that they actually invited him. Lethal Force wasn't following many arbitrary rules certainly, but they weren't villains. Vigilantes? Definitely. So Mantis reasoned. His team wished to go to the meeting and Mantis truly wished them well. Perhaps some good would come of it. Bad guys fighting bad guys was a win-win situation in his book.
The PRT was meeting the very day of The Jack's meeting, which was no coincidence. Mantis did think at one point to inform the authorities of the time and place of this meeting, but decided against it. If anything it would only weaken the heroes and villains who were not under Patriarch's control. Which was the last thing they needed right now.
No, what Mantis wanted, what he strived for, was to take the organization out. From the top down. Patriarch was the focus of all his energy, and nothing would get in his way. Not other villains, not the PRT, not anybody. If he died in his pursuit, so be it. He had already lost too many of his close friends and allies. Zach being the latest of them. Now was the time to act, and if the rest of his team wasn't there to encounter the villain as well it was for the best. He didn't want everyone to die along with him if it came to that.
Mantis eyed his rearview mirror remembering the contents in his trunk. His standard MP5 submachine gun, silencer, flashbangs, teargas, and this time...fragmentation grenades. They hadn't come cheap, but Mantis was able to manipulate some black market dealer into giving him a case of his stash out of town for a reasonable price. Mental and emotional mind games as he liked to describe them. Using his powers against criminals didn't faze him one bit. If the encounter with Patriarch occurred, Mantis was sure that the only way to take him down for good was to use the most lethal of force.
Jason sat, his chair tipped back, as he surveyed the room in front of him.
Two of that Lethal Force group had appeared. A solo he hadn't been expecting sitting with them. Was she a new recruit? Not that he really knew much about them, but he didn't think there were so many ladies before. Or was he thinking of a different group? Fuck it.
Purge and Exhale. The mob. Scary in their own right, especially since no one really knew what Purge did himself.
Neither of the official big boys from the Rockers had shown. That was... Disappointing, he guessed.
Retcon. Another quirky one. Best to not think too hard on that one.
Ah, enough with the people. They either were unknowns or knowns, nothing he could do about it.
He tapped the table, sightly irritated at the whole reason this was happening.
The damned Community. If even half the rumors running wild were true..... Well, at least this was a mission he could get behind.
He glanced at Whimsy, frowning beneath his helmet. His special request for a helmet that filtered sounds through an electronic system, able to make him essentially deaf to the world... And with built in comms for ease. He wasn't going to risk another fiasco with Chatterbox....
Same basic design as before, but the inside was what changed. Heh, even with him.
He felt... Idly better about their last mission after the whole ice cream talk they'd had. He almost felt like a big brother at this point. Almost.
He glanced at the clock, ready for this to all start. Just to make sure everyone made it....
Whip
The room was fancy. Too fancy. The place fake, the people fake. Everything fake.
She skittered into the room, possibly the last one to enter, and spotted the male half of the Twin. She snorted, slapping the back of his head as she sat down. "Other is better," she whispered to him, a fox grin on her face as she let her hood down. "This one is...tainted."
Lillian sat behind her little booth, beaming behind her updated wardrobe. A proper costume, for a proper event. Her upper face was hidden behind special visor Decoy had whipped up, looking not unlike her Dino form's face. It covered more of her face, while leaving her mouth and nose open so her senses could still be useful. The rest of her outfit was not unlike many popular Wards in material and design, colored in a gray, scale-like texture of light armored padding designed for maneuverability. A small skirt added depth without being in the way over the leggings half of the suit.
A tiger lily flower was in her hair, a gift from a young boy who had been one of the first to approach her earlier. She had been surprised at the amount of people who had visited her, actually, and her hand hurt a little from the signatures. She'd talked a bit about overcoming adversity, but she mostly wanted to help on a more individual basis, but that wasn't happening here. Maybe she could spend a little more time on PHO in the PMs?
She glanced over towards Alessa, glad her mask was covering the blush that was creeping across her cheeks. Standing up, since things seemed to be winding down at the moment.
This was great. All of it. There were tons of fantastic people around, from the Protectorate to the local Capes like Furnace to all the Wards....
Her gaze turned back to Alessa before she looked down and rolled her eyes at herself.
With a slight skip in her step she headed over. "Isn't this just wonderful, Messiah?" she asked brightly, waving at a kid nearby who was walking away from Furnace with the biggest smile she'd ever seen. The sight caused her to giggle a little. Really she felt high with happiness today, and she supposed it was leaking through. "Did you say hi to Furnace? He's pretty neat. I kinda feel bad for G4M3R though. But it's so good to see Noble and Captain Morales back. There's so many nice people and it's been so much fun and it's almost as nice as the day we...." Okay, her ears were definitely red now as she clamped her mouth shut. "Errr, I'm rambling. Sorry, hehe," she tried to cover, running a hand along her neck.
Mantis was out following what little they could figure out about that Intel, which seemed to be a basement level apartment in a not so terrible part of Denver.
Pulling up, the area seemed largely devoid of people. Mostly just concrete and furnishings on the upper balconies. There was a single flight of stairs leading down to the lower floors from the outside, a rusty railing that seemed ready to disintegrate upon touch guiding the way. Am observant passerby might notice the high quality camera latched to the bottom of the second story balcony above the stairs, capturing any who came near, or down, the entrance. A small thing, partially hidden in the shadow of the balcony.
The door was solid metal, a poorly painted beige over rusty red, with a large knocker hastily welded onto it and what looked like a speakeasy slide built into it.
A small sign hung on the handle: No Soliciting!
There appeared to be no immediate way to open the door, the handle was really more of a protruding object for pulling on than an actual way to open the door.
Before Mantis could do much of anything but approach the door, the slide moved and a glint from something caught the light.
"What do you want? I don't have any appointments scheduled today." The voice was definitely female.... And undeniably irritated. "Well? Hurry up, I'm a busy person."
She’d woken up under warm blankets feeling safe and comfortable in body, but the feeling had been swiftly replaced by a growing dread. She banished her projection and forced her to get up after ten minutes of convincing herself. Eating breakfast, doing homework, moving, taking a shower, the actions were mechanical. She was a step removed.
Eventually, with some prodding and encouragement, Evelyn’s mom managed to convince her to go to PRT HQ. Every second of the drive was filled with her mom’s easy sense of humor, trying to break the tension and distract her. It almost worked, but alas the haunting silver ‘shadow’ caught her eye and reminded her of the dread and where she was going...and why she was going there. When they pulled up, her mom turned off the engine and, seeing that her humor hadn’t helped, she got out of the car and got into the backseat with Evelyn.
For a moment the seventeen year old girl that she was struggled against the tight embrace of her mother, but that’s as long as it lasted, a moment. She didn’t cry. She wasn’t crying. Her eyes were just watering a lot. She wasn’t scared, those knots were just cramps...because she was growing up. That wasn’t a knot in her throat, she just had something small stuck in her throat.
After what was perhaps five minutes or twenty, her mother pulled away, but looked into Evelyn’s eyes and smiled.
“You’re brave. You get it from me. Your dad’s just a big ole’ bundle of nerves, but you’ve got my will of steel in you,” her mom said. Evelyn tried to look away, but her mom, Lily, Lil, Lilliana, Mom, gently turned her chin back and met her eyes again. She swallowed hard, but held the gaze this time.
“I don’t know mom. I don’t...I don’t feel like steel,” she said, her voice weak, strained from crying. Her mom squeezed her shoulder, “It’s okay sweetheart, my Evywevvy.” Evelyn laughed a little and for once didn’t tell her mom to stop. The shared a smile and it was warm and safe and full of compassion and understanding.
God she loved her mom.
They hugged again and her mom got out of the car. Evelyn followed. Brushing off her clothes she started towards the building, but her mom caught her shoulder, and she turned to look at her again. “It’s okay to be scared…” she began, but Evelyn spoke, joining in, “...but fear is the mindkiller, don’t be its next victim.” Her mother nodded and smiled, pride and love and trust in her amber eyes. Evelyn nodded, squaring her jaw, closed her eyes and took some deep breaths. When she opened them her mom let go of her shoulder and gave her a small nod.
Turning away she approached the building. Behind her, Lilliana called out, “Go get ‘em!” She couldn’t help but smile.
Entering PRT HQ, Evelyn nodded to some of the workers, spoke briefly with the receptionist and then headed deeper in. Her heartbeat gradually ramped up the closer she got to the Director’s office. Outside his door she had to work up some courage. Closing her eyes she internally recited the little mantra her parents had taught her over the years. It was the same one she’d said with her mom earlier.
It’d helped get her through a lot. It would help her get through this.
It had to.
She knocked on the door.
A firm voice responded without any pause or hesitation. ”It’s open, come on in.” As Evelyn entered, she was treated to the sight of Director Kens staring over numerous reports, both electronic and paper. It was more like he was staring through them, actually, with his glazed eyes covered in bags and dark rings. The director appeared to have not been sleeping much lately.
Noticing just who had entered his office, the director locked his computer screen and swept up the papers into a file, but she was able to catch sight of one in particular which was titled Notice of Action, which was addressed from the Youth Gard.
Once the documents were out of the way, Director Kens locked eyes with Evelyn. Though he maintained his composure and body language which screamed, ‘I’m the one in fucking charge,’ his eyes were softer than she’d ever seen before. His voice gentler. ”I’m glad you were able to come today, Miss Chambers. After what happened, I know that exploring more about your power must be… Troubling. Unfortunately we have to determine what happened, if it was outside interference or…” He hesitated a moment. Director Kens never hesitated before. He always said hesitation was weakness. ”If it was a natural consequence. And apart from that, yours is the power we have the least understanding of among the Wards. The experience may prove to even be therapeutic for you, Miss Chambers. At least, I hope it will.”
Director Kens took a moment to drink a bit of water he had sitting in a glass on his desk. Once that was done he continued, steeling himself. Gone was the softer man Evelyn had only just experienced for a scant few seconds, and returned was the tough bulldog that would tear a man’s legs off just to beat them with their own feet. ”You’ll be heading to the labs on the second floor. You should be meeting with Bret Linkton and Alina Brestoff, two of our parahuman studies experts. I trust that you will cooperate with them to the fullest. You are excused, Miss Chambers.”
Fiercely resisting her equally intense urges to chew her lip and break down at his show of kindness, Evelyn instead smiled, shifting into a mindset of his subordinate. She was a Ward, following orders. Still she ended up chewing her cheek slightly before nodding. “Thank you for your time and consideration sir. I’ll do my best,” she almost choked on the last words and, embarrassed she bowed slightly and then turned on her heel and fled the room.
With her directions firmly in mind she made her way to the second floor labs, but before she got there she reminded herself of her mother’s words and of the Director’s. She was still surprised that he’d been so...understanding. He’d always seemed like a hardass, if a reasonable one. It made her smile a bit, and were her eyes watering?
’Okay, so it’s a little touching, she thought to herself, smiling a little, before steeling herself and entering the lab.
“Mr. Linkton, Ms. Alina, reporting in for t-testing,” she swallowed hard as her awareness of the silver shadow--which was still many miles from that at present--shifted into the forefront of her mind.
The two expert were already preparing materials and equipment for the testing. Evelyn was greeted with the sight of Alina’s friendly smile, and Bret’s casual, yet non-confrontational, indifference. They seemed to be putting the finishing touches on some sort of cage made of glass? Hard plastic? Some transparent substance. It was barely large enough to contain an average sized person.
“Welcome, good morning!” Greeted Alina Brestoff. She waved the young Ward in. Bret Linkton escorted her in, taking her coat if needed, and explained the basics.
“Good to have you. We want to start by observing your projection manifested in an isolated environment. If you could please, create it in a relatively harmless form in the cage. Don’t give it any orders. We just want to observe it naturally. So to speak.”
“Thanks,” she said, rubbing her arm a bit, before she caught herself and nodded, “I...I think I can do that. Um…” she glanced around looking for materials then, taking in a deep breath she made sure her breathing was steady before she tapped into that part of her mind that controlled the projection. She willed it to draw near and immediately, its shadow was there, in the room with them, but something was a little different.
The shadow was filling the entire room. It was huge. Her breath caught in her throat, but she managed to steady it again, even as tears welled in her eyes.
She shut them for a moment and recited her mom’s affirmation under her breath, willing the projection to a smaller form. It obeyed. She took stock, meticulously, of the materials it had scanned. She scrapped all but the most harmless materials she could find.
’Malleable/hard/soft(Clay).’
Those were the traits she set in place before shifting the ‘shadow’ into a humanoid shape only 4 feet tall, which she then placed into the designated space. She opened her eyes and looked to the two, “Alright, I’m gonna manifest it now.” She swallowed hard, equal parts fear and steel in her eyes. Her hands were clenched into fists and there was tension in her muscles despite her breathing being steady. She looked to the projection, it didn’t have any powers programmed in--though it appeared it had accidentally scanned a few. She only recognized a few of them.
“Go,” she said, willing it into being. She flinched away as the shadow phased into existence. It appeared like a dwarf made from grey clay, but without any notable defining features. It was one smooth surface, but despite it being made of clay, she knew it could move. Despite it not having any eyes or a nose or ears, she knew it could perceive its environment.
“H-how’s that?” She asked, clearly nervous. Despite all her efforts there was a pit in her stomach and she felt just a little bit nauseous.
The younger woman jotted down some observations and fiddled with some of the computer systems in the room. After a few seconds she gave a thumbs up to her colleague. The older man however did not share her assessment. He gave an additional request to Evelyn. “Good, but do you think you can give it a face? That would help us observe any emotional instability on the chance it experiences such things.”
“Um...sure?” At first she considered de-manifesting it, but before she could, the projection responded to her idea of a face and one formed. Its expression sent shivers up her spine because despite being made of clay its face was startlingly detailed and its expression was dead.
The ‘eyes’ in its visage turned to regard her, then the other two individuals. There was somehow life in those clay eyes, but despite that there was no feeling. The projection did not otherwise move its body, only its head and eyes shifted. Evelyn bit her lip and crossed her arms, holding herself a bit.
She took a step further away from the projection’s enclosure.
“Excellent.” The man’s tone was quite detached. He took up a pen and clipboard, and began hitting down notes. “Refrain from providing any orders. We wish to observe it for the next hour.” An hour. She’d never been asked to manifest it for that long. She wouldn’t be able to reform it for an hour too, troublesome if an emergency came up. Ah, but she was still off duty, so nothing should happen, right? Regardless, there was nothing to do now but wait while the experts observed and recorded observations.
“A-alright,” she replied and, after a few minutes of staring she found a chair and sat down. Having brought her phone, but not wanting to seem rude, Evelyn glanced over to Alina. She wanted to maybe strike up a conversation, but she also didn’t want to distract them from their work. After maybe five minutes she drew out her phone and took to distracting herself, it helped her ignore the projection.
The projection, at the same five minute mark, slowly started to display what one might describe as restless behavior. Its expression remained largely the same. Neutral. Dead, unfeeling, but its body language shifted somewhat. Where before it had stood entirely still, its gaze trained on Evelyn, not its carved eyes began to wander around the room. At first it took everything in, then mostly paid attention to the two adults, occasionally glancing in Evelyn’s direction. At around 7 minutes the projection began to pace, and at around 9 minutes it started touching the walls of its enclosure. While perhaps mildly interesting, the behavior was not particularly alarming...that was until roughly 11 minutes had passed.
At first nothing seemed amiss, but the researchers might notice that where the projection before had been restless, now it had ceased moving at all and was staring intently at the two. It had ‘carved’ an additional set of eyes into its mockery of a face. One pair was dedicated to Alina and the other to Bret. A minute of this passed and then in an unnaturally quick movement, the projection lunged at the wall closest them and slammed one of its clay fists into the material.
Its gaze was still dead, but its ‘mouth’ had affected what could only be described as a snarl. A hollow rattling began emanating from within the projection.
Evelyn stared, her phone forgotten, eyes wide. She could feel the projection and it felt...alien. Far moreso than normal. Was the connection weaker than it had been before?
The Tulpa drew back its arm, which had become malformed--the clay having redistributed itself into a club--and then slammed it against the barrier again. Its strength was perhaps greater than it ought to have been, despite its frame. With each strike, Evelyn flinched. After a minute of this the projection tried a new tact, redistributing the mass of its hands into hardened claws, which it began to scratch viciously against the enclosure. With each passing minute it became more frantic, beating anc clawing and eventually running--as much as it could--full tilt into the wall. The rattling sound became more frenzied and rose in pitch, becoming grating and loud enough to feel in the body more than just hear with the ears.
Evelyn, at this point had moved as far across the room from her tulpa as she could. Her hands were clenched tightly into fists, fingernails digging into her palms. She was lightly chewing the inside of her cheek as she paced nervously. Occasionally she’d mutter her mom’s reassurance under her breath, but it was largely drowned out by the sounds of the tulpa. The creature only became more violent as time passed, but eventually it stopped beating and clawing and ramming into the wall. Instead it had formed ‘eyes’ all over its head and thin antennae had sprouted from its ‘hands’. It could not alter its original design too greatly though for it never grew or lost any limbs or its head as it redistributed its mass.
It was also clear that it wasn’t generating additional material for sometimes portions of its body would shrink when it changed. The projection had taken to probing the enclosure, apparently seeking any gap. Any escape. The entire time it kept ‘eyes’ on Evelyn, Alina, and Bret and for the latter two its gaze was malignant and hostile, filled with violent intent. For Evelyn its eyes were neutral, blank, emotionless.
After the 15 minute mark there were no further noticeable escalations in its behavior. It would occasionally attempt to damage the enclosure, but would always abandon this to attempt to find some other means of escape. Evelyn could feel it and what she felt disturbed her. Not only would it no longer respond to her commands, it seemed to hold in its mind only two entwined ideas: Protect at all costs/Eliminate all threats.
Evelyn hated this. She hated being scared of it when it was part of her, if it was indeed part of her. She didn’t know that there was anything so violent or nasty in her. She hoped there wasn’t. She hated not being allowed to make it go away. She wanted to leave, but she refused to be insubordinate on top of being weak and afraid and unable to control her own damned power. Determination and loyalty were all she had and the former was a shaky thing now after everything that had happened.
The two scientists observed the entire ordeal from safety, with Alina measuring responses via a computer terminal and Bret taking a great many notes. The tulpa’s behavior was concerning to say the very least. However after 30 minutes had passed by and the thing’s activities hadn’t deviated for the last fifteen of those minutes, the senior expert decided to put a halt to the experiment.
“That’s fine Evelyn. I don’t think we’ll be experiencing any further deviations. Please demanifest it and we’ll wait until you can manifest again. I have some questions for you.”
Even when one of them finally spoke, Evelyn didn’t relax, responding only with a tense nod. Looking at the tulpa she took a deep breath and closed her eyes. Normally demanifesting the projection was a simple whim away, but now it was hard. It was like trying to claw her way to a lever in a room full of molasses and it was a big room. After about ten seconds, her face screwed up in concentration, her eyes closed, the projection suddenly flashed out of existence. A shiver went through her and the silver light of its shadow replaced where the projection had been.
The frail connection and the hostility had vanished utterly, replaced by the neutral responsive presence she was used to. However, as there always was, there was a distance between her and the projection and a sort of block in her mind where typically there was none. She didn’t bother setting a timer to tell her when it would be available again, she would know.
Shaking herself a bit she sat down, eyes on the ground. She’d brought her chair closer to the two scientists again. She couldn’t meet their eyes. “Well...shoot,” she said, awaiting the questions. Slowly she steadied her breathing and the frantic beating of her heart slowed.
The scientists had noticed the extra effort it had taken Evelyn to dismiss her apparition, and jotted it down in their observations. Once that was done, Alina took a seat in front of the young Ward, and gave a friendly smile. “I’m sure you noticed it growing more and more restless over time. Can you tell me what you felt through your connection during this time?”
Evelyn swallowed hard and glanced up at Alina. “It was like it was disconnecting from me, drifting away. I...I think it stopped caring who was a friend and who wasn’t. I’m not sure. It seemed like,” she met Alina’s eyes, “...it seemed like it saw everything as a threat to me.” She held herself, taking deep breaths again to calm down.
Alina nodded solemnly. “I’m sorry to hear that, sweetie. What about after you returned it to its base form? How has your connection been since then?”
Evelyn paused, checking, before she responded, “It feels normal again. It...went back as soon as it demanifested.”
“Well that’s good news at least.” Alina smiled, attempting to comfort Evelyn. “Our observations and the data the computers collected have led us to a hypothesis,” she began, “but we’ll need to reaffirm the theory over multiple sets of experimentation. Do you think you’re up for two, maybe three more rounds?”
Rubbing her arms a bit, almost as if she were cold, Evelyn swallowed hard and nodded. She’d do what needed to be done to figure out her power on a deeper level, even though it was unpleasant, even though it was scary. Seeing her projection...her power, so violent and unreasoning really did disturb her. “I...um. We can continue, but we have to wait till it can manifest again,” while it was true, Evelyn really wanted to put it off for awhile. It had been hard enough to watch the tulpa the first time. She could only hope that it would get easier….
And so the experiment continued for two more repetitions. The second was more or less identical to the first go around, with the same actions occurring at the same times and the same observations. On the third go round Bret and Alina had encouraged Evelyn to once again create the tulpa as something harmless within the confines of its cage, but also to give it orders. Simple orders, like turns, spinning in place, jumping jacks, and any other mundane, irrelevant ideas they could come up with.
For the first 5 minutes the projection followed her mental commands instantly and without and difficulty, but as the clock passed the 5 minute mark the projection responded to commands with a slight delay or with less accuracy, completing the tasks more sloppily and with an expression that made it seem...almost confused. Ten minutes passed and it was at this point that the projection gradually began to act strangely. At first it was at least mildly responsive to her commands, and would perform them with a delay or in a fashion that implied its attention was elsewhere. The entire time its gaze remained locked on either its enclosure or the non-Evelyn humans in the room. By the time 15 minutes rolled around, the projection was not only ignoring any and all commands, it was clawing at and attacking its enclosure with gradually mounting vigor. It was at this point that--despite any commands--the projection proceeded along a similar set of behaviors as had been noticed at a certain point following the ten minute mark in the two previous tests.
Oddly, Evelyn felt...less bothered as she noticed the trend. It seemed that there might be consistency in her power, even if that consistent result was in and of itself rather disturbing in nature.
“I think we can safely assume our hypothesis to be correct,” Bret spoke, jotting down some notes on his clipboard. Without looking up he said to Evelyn, “Go ahead and turn it off.” She complied.
Alina performed some final tasks on the computer consoles and then approached the young Ward. She bit her upper lip nervously, but recovered fairly quick. “Our visual-audio observations, as well as the brain pattern analysis in this room, strongly indicate a consistent pattern to your tulpa’s behavior based on the length of time it is existing in a corporeal state,” she began. Realizing this might be a bit too much jargon for the young woman, she backpedalled. “That is to say, it seems to be a normal behavior that happens after a set time limit while it’s manifested. Gradually it begins to ignore you as a new parameter kicks in. I can only assume that goal is to ensure your protection at all costs, as it showed intense hostility toward us administering the testing, but none toward you. It would appear to grow more zealous of this goal as time passes. About ten minutes by our timing.”
Bret stepped in. “According to our findings, there was no influence from any master-class parahumans on your mission, this is a natural behavior of your powers. One we should have discovered in earlier testing. I’m taking full responsibility. In any case, unless it becomes an extreme circumstance and is approved by your team leader or a senior Protectorate hero, I am advising that the director enforce a ruling that you are never to allow your tulpa to remain corporeal for longer than seven minutes. Just in case.”
Alina nodded in agreement. “Do you have any questions, Miss Chambers?”
Evelyn, though she was grateful for the second explanation, had followed the first just fine. Still, hearing it again did help hammer home the reality of her power. Not only did her power have to be inactive for as long as it was used, but using it too long had some...well, truly dire consequences. She shivered and bit her lip as flashes of the warehouse nearly overcame what nerve she had left.
Taking a deep breath she focused on Alina. Did she have any questions? Was there really anything to say? She frowned a bit then realized something, “Wait...in the warehouse I don’t think my projection was active for more than 10 minutes. So...why did…it attack,” she dropped the sentence, a desperate look in her eyes. After a few moments of trying to find a different word, she sagged a bit, giving up, “Why did it attack my friends?”
Saying it outloud she realized something else. As guilty as she felt and as scared as she was...she needed to talk to Lillian.
“You’re absolutely certain that it hadn’t been ten minutes?” Bret asked more to confirm her question than to get an answer.
“Let me pull up your own account in the official report,” Alina added. She went back to the computer console and took a moment to access the proper files, then took another moment to read Evelyn’s account. After a couple minutes, she snapped her fingers. “I can’t say for certain unless we get thinker confirmation, but I have a strong theory as to what happened. Immediately before your manifestation turned hostile, all the Wards reported seeing it struck by a blaster beam from one of…” she paused awkwardly. “By a blaster beam. And then you reported feeling a strange disorientation with your manifestation. It feels fairly clear to me that the beam did something to force its nature to come about early.”
Evelyn nodded, “Well...that helps. If um, if you can get confirmation I’d appreciate it. Anything else you need?” Even though she was asking, it was clear from the faint nervousness about her that she wanted to leave.
Bret shook his head. “We’re all set. Just need to crunch some numbers, analyze the details, and call in some favors with some out of state thinkers. We’ll update you with any new observations.”
“Alright. Um, thank you for your time,” she said before making a hasty retreat from the room. As soon as she’d departed the room the researchers would notice something odd. The projection’s shadow expanded rapidly until it filled the room completely, then began expanding out the door as well. A moment later it vanished, or rather moved so fast in the direction opposite Evelyn that it appeared to. If they glanced at the file for her power they might recall that the projection wasn’t supposed to get much bigger than 12 feet in height and while its normal dimensions aside from height were not so limited, it still should not have been able to fill the entire room.
Evelyn, entirely unaware of the phenomena, though she had banished the projection as far away as possible again decided, headed for the front desk. Once she got there she asked the receptionist where she could find Lillian. The woman’s response however, dropped all of her hope and resolve in a bucket of acid.
“Lillian isn’t accepting visitors right now. She’s currently with her therapist.” Suddenly numb, Evelyn thanked the woman and turned, an empty look in her eyes. Her dad picked her up and neither of them said anything for the entire ride.
The only part of the receptionist’s response she’d heard were “Lillian isn’t accepting visitors.”
Genevieve had on her usual all-black ensemble, to include her aviators and wig, as she walked into The Cruise Room. Right away, she noticed a few of the others who were already there. Good...at least she wouldn't have to sit in awkward silence. As Genevieve walked over to the booth, making her way around some of the guests who were still standing, she toyed with the idea that any one of those people there could have possibly been involved in her parents' murder. But if so, why? What connection was she missing between two people who were practically strangers? And more importantly, what was their motive for doing so? Sure, it was some form of revenge from what she could remember, but she needed the specifics. She needed more answers than what she currently had...which was practically nothing.
"Hey guys," Genevieve smiled as she took her place on the edge of the bench, her arms resting on the table as she leaned forward. "I hope they have a good menu here; never been."
Heartless was bored. As he tapped his fingers on the table of the booth he was sitting at, he pondered why he was at a diplomatic meeting of all the major players of the city. He never signed up for this shit, his job was supposed to be to steal things. A sigh escaped his lips as he looked around the bar, noting how the Rockers didn't even bother sending in anyone important. Just some low level Stranger mooks, how lame. Some people from Lethal Force showed up surprisingly, he would have to keep an eye on them. Just because they weren't with the PRT didn't mean they were willing to just let such a massive showing of villains go free. They could be setting up an ambush to his knowledge, so they would need to be monitored.
Retcon had been the first to show up- wait what? Heartless stared at Retcon for a moment as he thought about when he (she?) had gotten here and shook his head. Fucking weirdos. Purge and Exhale had shown up next, or possibly first, nothing wrong there. You can trust the mob to respect neutral territories, so they wouldn't be a problem for now. Sabotage had shown up next, messing around with some unknown device. The usual. Macavity had shown up at some point, why is Purge wiping down the tables with wet wipes? Heartless shook his head as his attention turned back to the bartender, an unseen smile on his lips as he looked at his boss doing pointless busywork. He was sorely tempted to go over and order a drink, but then he would have to take off his helmet to drink. Not happening. Speaking of helmets, he had gotten a nice new upgrade for his, no need to worry about Chatterbox going rogue anymore. Heartless could just cut out sound from the world at anytime with but a press of a button.
Honestly he wanted to do that now, but unfortunately he has a job to do. It was after all this passed through his mind that he realized he had been tapping the table for quite a while now and that it was probably incredibly obnoxious to everyone. Oh well. Someone new came in, Heartless had no idea who she was. God damnit, now he has to talk to her. Heartless walked over to the woman and slid into the seat opposite her, his the "eyes" on his helmet staring into hers. "Sorry to disappoint, but I don't think they're serving food this late. Mind if I buy you a drink to make up for it?" One of the "eyes" winked at her, a small chuckle escaping his lips as he leaned back in his chair. "The name's Heartless, pleasure to meet you." He reached out for a handshake with his gloved hand, attempting to sound as friendly as possible.
"Healer," Genevieve replied, reaching across the table to shake Heartless' hand with a firm grip, her eyes locked on him as she leaned against the backrest a second later. "I would absolutely love a drink," she went on, flashing him a convincing smile despite being rather wary of the guy. Her glasses did the job of hiding her vigilant eyes, but Heartless had double the advantage, having donned a motorcycle helmet. The eye display was unsettling, but even worse, the undecipherable face behind it.
"Let's see here..." she grabbed one of the drink menus on the table, mindlessly flipping the few pages it had before a colorful cocktail caught her eyes. The Dozier, as it read, looked good...and hopefully it tasted even better given the brief description provided next to the image. The play on words wasn't lost on her either, although within the confines of her mind, she gave it more of a French accent. "I'll have one of these," Genevieve flipped the menu so it could face Heartless before she pointed at the drink, asserting that she wouldn't just have whatever he felt like getting for her. She had to work through a number of god-awful drinks in the past, and she'd be damned if she ever accepted another ounce of alcohol which wasn't to her standard.
Genevieve then started playing with the black strands of hair which fell past her shoulders, waiting on Heartless to get her her drink hopefully before the main event.
Sparce had the back of his head slammed by Whipstitch as he shouted internally, only reacting with a noise through clenched teeth as he sat there and took the hit. "AUGH! Farce why the fuck does your friend hit me so hard?"
I dunno, dude. She doesn't really like guys is what I think.
"Well she could at least resist hitting me! God, she does it every time I'm near her."
Hey man, at least Healer's here.
Sparce nodded as he acknowledged the presence of Healer, hesitant to speak really and begin convening with allies in the faces of so many people, especially in a setting like this. Checking the inner pocket of his jacket, Sparce glanced at his phone to see if there were any updates from Mantis about anything. Unsurprisingly, there was nothing. He said something about his own job earlier, so if he was busy on that it was whatever. For now, this was Sparce's mission, whether he chose to a-
... who's the guy in the motorcycle helmet?
"Excuse me?"
Look to the side, Sparce.
Indeed, there was a character in a motorcycle helmet, and he was... hitting on Healer? What? Sparce raised his eyebrow at that, though it was concealed by the mask he wore. He was actually hitting on Healer.
Why are you so surprised?
"Surely the Jacks would be smarter than to converse with our group, especially like... this."
Hey man, just saying, I'd totally smash Healer if I had the chance.
"... can't disagree."
What's this? My brother being a loose screw for once? BLASPHEMY!
"Oh right, and you actually wearing pants for once isn't?"
You told me yesterday to make sure I looked good and my mask was on for when we transformed. Now I'm here in your mind sittin' around in a goddamn dress and tights waiting for the clock to run out.
"How much time we got?"
I'm gonna take a shot in the dark and say... two hours. Minimum.
"Good. Gives me time to actually work and keeps you from screwing the pooch here."
You're telling me I can't swindle a few villains? You have a lot to learn, my friend.
"Same for you, to be honest. Hush for a few, I think this is starting soon."
Tell Whipstitch I said hi!
Sparce looked over at Whipstitch and gave a small smile before speaking. "My better half says hello." Afterwards, the man looked at the rest of the cast of villains as he waited for this shindig to start.
Whip stared at the intruder from the Jacks. Forcing his way into the conversation, forcing his dirty ways upon Healer. She narrowed her eyes, looking away from the ridiculous biker helmet he was wearing.
And she ate it up. Poor, poor deluded girl. Whip could only shake her head at the whole affair, contemplating her options.
And then the male half addressed her, delivering a message from the trapped soul. A reminder of the terrible crimes committed against women, the poor dear being forced to sacrifice her time and space for such filth.
"A shame t'was not her but you whom I must contend with. I see more filth and disease in this room than I have ever in a single space. Terrible, horrible, tainted flesh mingling as if it were still alive and well, mimicking the behaviors of the living through twisted glass." The venom practically dripped from her voice, the necrotic stench nearly palpable around her.
It was morning. Jason peered blurrily at the sunlight streaming into the room through the open blinds. How long had it been? A few hours, maybe.
He couldn't stop seeing the alternate Sofia being shot. Every. Single. Time. Every time he tried to sleep those events ran through his mind. Fighting kids? Killing kids? He might enjoy a good fight, but this… This seemed a bit much. Maybe this wasn't his calling, despite the killer pay. Not that he could leave, could he?
Rolling to his feet, Jason dressed. A nice white suit, black tie. Yeah, that would do. Trudging into the hall, he stopped at the room Sofia had taken at this… He couldn't call it a headquarters anymore. It didn't feel right.
A shake of his head before he knocked.
”You up?”
Sofia was curled up in bed, earbuds snaking up her stomach and resting on either side of her head, playing the smooth, comforting sounds of a piano though them. She’d been doing a lot of thinking lately. The last mission they’d done. A lot of weird stuff had happened. Sofia was still not sure what to feel about it, so as usual, so tried to feel nothing. It wasn’t working as well as it usually did. She was in her usual plain gray sweats with an equally boring sweater over them. At the sound of a knock she turned quizzically towards the door. Thunderbird? Sofia cleared her throat, ”Yeah?”
”I'm heading for a walk and ice cream. Wanna come?” He figured they could both use some freedom after everything yesterday.
Sofia mused it over for a moment. She did like sweets. She also remembered hearing that people sometimes took walks to clear their head, she wasn’t sure what that meant, but it was probably better than what she was feeling right now. ”Sure.” Sofia replied simply and rolled off the bed and slipping her feet comfortably into her shoes. "Oh right." Sofia moved over to the desk and computer that sat against the wall and grabbed a small, painfully girlish wallet(It appeared to be a Hello Kitty theme, covered with pink and flowers. It had been bought for for the reasons that it held money and it was the first thing she had seen than the cutesy designs, but Sofia certainly hadn't shied away from it). ”So I can pay for myself!” Sofia said somewhat more brightly, seemingly excited at the thought of paying for something. Considering how times she’d actually bought something she wanted, it was perhaps justified.
Jason chuckled a little at the enthusiasm in her voice at the end, glancing at the garishly pink wallet with some surprise. He always felt like the girl seemed distant, even if it hadn't been very long that they'd been a team together, and the bright colors wasn't what he'd expected.
They walked in silence off the property before Jason spoke up again. “It's nice out, considering the season.”
Weather was always a good icebreaker, wasn't it?
Sofia glanced upwards at the clear skies, as though she was just now considering them. ”Hm, I suppose so. Do you like sunny weather?” Sofia liked it when it was raining. Something about the sound it made and feeling the little impacts of the rain, whether you were inside or outside.
”Honestly, as long as it's not snow I'm happy,” he replied with a casual shrug before putting his hands in his pockets. Might as well get to it... ”So, err, how you doing?”
”Eh?” Sofia was puzzled for a moment, ”Well… I…” Her voice trailed off for a bit. How WAS she doing? When was the last time someone had asked her that? To be honest, Sofia had a feeling she wasn’t doing great. Sofia had never pondered much whether she was a good person. She stole things sure, but they were little things. Sofia knew she wasn’t a great person but, what she was doing now? ”I don’t think I want to do stuff like that again.” She said quietly.
Jason stopped walking, looking at the sky, as he took that in. ”Yeah...I don't either. That… Wasn't… Just fuck.” Running a hand through his hair, he started walking again. ”I spent a lot of last night thinking, and that was pretty bad. I was thinking of leaving, but I don't know.”
Sofia shook her head, ” But Broker doesn’t like loose ends, he said so.” Sofia said softly as she tailed after Jason, rather than walking directly beside him, she was more of walking in his shadow.
Jason nodded slowly. ”Yeah… But I think if something like this happens again I'll take my chances. Killing kids? Just not my thing. I didn't honestly even like fight those Wards… And giving them mental trauma?” Jason kicked at a passing trash can in an attempt at relieving frustrations.
”Hmm…” Sofia simply made a thinking noise and continued trailing after Jason. She wondered how many people died at the warehouse. Then she stopped wondering. She did not wish to think of such things. Instead she could think of what flavour ice cream to get! They arrived at the place, creatively named, “Coldstone” and Sofia immediately increased her pace, stepping ahead of Jason for once and started ‘ooooh’ing at all the flavours. ”Hey, hey, can I get this one?” She said, pointing at some chocolate.
”Heh, you don't need my permission…” Jason muttered. ”It's not like I'm in charge of you.”
“Oh… Right. I want um, 3 scoops of that, no wait that one.” Sofia said, switching her pointing from the chocolate to Rocky Road. The man serving her raised an eyebrow but seemed more amused than annoyed at her antics. Within moments Sofia had a triple scoop of Rocky Road on a cone and had paid for it, a fact that seemed to surprise the man serving her. ”What are you gonna get?” Sofia asked as she ‘nom’ed on her ice cream.
Jason chuckled, more at the man's expression than Sofia's antics, before pointing at the mint chocolate swirl. ”Triple.” After paying, he moved to go outside before turning and pausing. ”Inside, outside, walk?” he asked his ice cream partner.
”Walk.” Sofia said confidently and headed outside, feeling rather pleased with herself. She’d never had much of a chance to have ice cream, much less something more expensive like Rocky Road. It was a rewarding experience for a couple of reasons and Sofia was happy that Jason had invited her. ”Mhmm, thanks Jason.”
”Sure thing. Doesn't always have to be doom and gloom,” he said with a shrug. ”Not like any of the others would be fun to chill with anyways, I don't think.”
”Hm…’ Sofia thought about that. He kinda had a point. Everyone was so serious and stuff. Sofia wasn’t sure any of them would even like ice cream. Although she supposed it wouldn’t hurt to find out. Hm...
Sofia Stien - The Cruise Room
Sofia's feet swung casually from side to side, as she carefully consumed the last of an ice cream cone. Naturally she was sitting next to Jason, as he had rather quickly become her favorite person. She didn't care particularly much about anyone else here, as far as she was concerned she was only here because everyone else was here anyway. Naturally she did glance over the collection, but just enough to have a vague sense of what people looked like. Sofia was probably the most normal person here, wearing nothing more than the casual clothing she usually did. Heartloss was talking to someone again, some raven haired girl. For acting like such a lone wolf he sure seemed to like hanging out with other people. Hadn't he done something like that earlier too? Hm. "Hey Jason does alcohol taste good?"
"Coming right up Miss." With that Heartless got up from his seat and moved over to the bar, taking his time as he noted how more than a few eyes had turned towards him. All of those eyes belonged to various members of Lethal Force, making him consider just what the hell he had done to garner such attention. He made it to the bar shortly after, tapping the table to get Broker's attention. "My friend wants The Dozier." As he waited for the drink to arrive he came to the sudden conclusion that there was obviously a connection between Lethal Force and Healer. Maybe she was one of them? Damnit, should've read over the profiles more closely, rule number one of any job is to gather as much info as possible beforehand. He scolded himself mentally over his lax attitude, noting he needed to take care during all jobs, even if they weren't the heists he was used to. About a minute later the drink was arriving, when Heartless decided to be an asshole. Not every day you get to piss off your boss with no consequences. "Oh yeah, could I get one of those little umbrellas to go with the drink? I love those things."
And with that Heartless was heading back to Healer with alcohol in hand and a tiny purple umbrella in the drink. "I hope you don't mind the accessory. I love to make things tropical." He set the drink down in front of her and sat back down, chuckling slightly. "But man, if looks could kill I'd be dead three times over. Hell, sometimes they can. You know the person who looks like they want to tear my head off?" Heartless jerked his head in the direction of Whipstitch and Sparce, hoping to dig some info out of Healer.
Rocker’s Hideout collab between PlatinumSkink and @solokolos (and a bit of @ProPro on Shatterpoint)
Inside a room in their current base, Shatterpoint had called Creep and Visage to a meeting. One of which entered while invisible, and the other dutiful yet a bit distracted.
Creep felt considerably uneasy about this meeting. Not only was there another girl there, with all likelihood another parahuman, but they had clearly been summoned as a pair. That broke the mold on how these meetings usually went, with Creep being a secret to everything and everyone, mostly. That said, it did seem people had started to figure it out. Creep inspected the other girl from the safety of her invisibility. She was… decidedly feminine and pulled off a costume in a way Creep could only hope to one day achieve, if she ever overcame her natural shyness.
Visage seemed to notice Creep immediately and began to focus on that instead. She kept looking around, her power telling her someone was there, but not elaborating. After a small bit she gave up, and refocused on her more visible leader.
While noting how the other girl started looking around and becoming a little perturbed as to the reason, Creep went ahead and gave Shatterpoint a little blink of a black star only he could see that indicated “I’m here”. He proceeded to speak to them both.
"It has come to my attention that I have been invited to a meeting with the other villains of Denver. However I won't be able to participate. The Big Boss would like one or both of you to represent us in my stead."
Sheila internally cracked, albeit it wasn’t visible. Flinched, eyes widening under the blindfold, staring at the image of Shatterpoint that she had made for her eyes to see. She was gripped by a slight bit of panic, the fact she was there revealed… and they wanted HER to represent the Rockers at a villain-meet up!?
After a few seconds, she decided to speak. The person next to her knew she was there right now, anyways. Taking the greatest care to sound as collected as possible, she spoke into the voice-changer she had stolen and incorporated into her mask. Her voice was still decidedly female, but perhaps more creepy and hoarse than her real one.
‘Are you serious?’ she asked, not in a ridiculing way, more in the way of ensuring this was no practical joke. Shatterpoint did not respond, but she got the impression he didn’t appreciate the question. … He was serious. Creep had to take a few moments to process that. This went directly against her desire to stay hidden. … That said. She was here to get information on villains… was she not? If so, this was an opportunity she couldn’t afford to dismiss. She gathered herself again, and started speaking.
‘You realize that goes directly against the terms I outlined in the beginning of our cooperation? ... That said, I would be willing. Am I only there to gather info or should I know a lot of information for when I am spoken to? Like, our willingness to potentially cooperate, or if I can make decisions on the spot to make us look stronger, or anything like that...’ … She felt a little too much of herself leaked into what she was saying, but she was frantic for answers.
"Accept to do this or don't." So yielded Shatterpoint’s only answer.
Sheila staggered. She had to sort out her emotions for a second or so, and once again overcome her apprehensiveness.
‘... I accept. But, um… Any guidelines to how I should act, in general? As representative of the Rockers?’
That’s when Shatterpoint simply turned and walked away, exiting the room and leaving the two on their own.
‘Well, damn,’ she muttered. So she was simply to represent this criminal organization without nary a clue to what they’d be willing to do, what stance they had on issues and whatever else. Not entirely true, she had plenty of clues over her time in the organization, but she was comically unprepared to actually represent them.
Still… there was another girl next to her, who also had been picked to represent them. Sheila wasn’t alone. So…
Creep let the shroud of invisibility fall. To Visage, if she was looking, it looked like an invisibility-cloak fell off a person in black standing next to her, revealing parts of her in turn from top down with the cloak remaining invisible when it was gone. Creep slowly turned her head partly towards Visage, mostly for appearance since Sheila could always see the girl with powers.
‘... I’m Creep,’ she eventually settled on, eyes hidden behind a blindfold, mouth hidden behind a mask, body hidden behind a cloak. Now it was simply a matter of Sheila remembering the mannerism she established for Creep, and actually sticking to it this time.
Visage wasn't surprised by their leader's quick exit, nor particularly bothered by the request. It seemed to be all upsides, in her opinion at least. It happened that she was more perturbed by Creep's questioning, and more importantly the inability to actually see her fellow representative. The speaking helped Visage pinpoint Creep, not to mention the whole "stopped being invisible thing." Visage stared deep, tracing the woman's outline, and immediately deciding whether or not she liked the aesthetic.
It was modern, and intimidating, matching the villain persona well. Where Visage tried to draw eyes, Creep tried to keep them off; invisibility or no. Despite the contrast to her own choices, a smile flashed across her lips after the two beats spent inspecting. "I'm Visage. It's a pleasure to finally meet you, as opposed to just overhearing quiet rumbles on the street every so often." She said, almost flirtatious, even now. "Were you staring at me by the way? I normally don't talk about my power, but I kept getting alarm bells" She continued, taking a few steps to circle Creep, clearly wanting to observe the woman's body further. As to whether it was for work or for pleasure, the line seemed blurred, though that was a common theme for the shapely stranger.
Creep immediately got an uncomfortable premunition as Visage looked over her form, and then proceeded to wander around her to inspect her closely. Natural shyness took hold of her, holding her breath as she felt the other girl’s eyes on her, but she remained watching Visage through her power as-
Huh. Quiet rumbles on the streets? Power, setting off alarm bells-
Creep shut down her observational power in immediate instinctual reaction, and her vision turned black as she only looked into her blindfold now. … No, this was unacceptable, like this she wouldn’t see if Visage intended on backstabbing her. She’d simply have to accept if this girl had a power that let her recognize that she was being watched. Creep turned on her power again, staring at Visage despite Visage being behind her.
‘... I’m, uh…’ No, that’s no good. Creep’s villainous. Be Creep, Sheila! ‘... Not used to that people knows I’m watching.’ Not much better, but true… Feeling excessively apprehensive, Creep shut up and let Visage continue watching her.
"Even now you can see my eyes," Visage said, just loud enough to be heard. Completing the circle, she smiled wider. She was wearing a reverse of her normal mask, a broken porcelain piece that covered the top half of her face instead of the bottom. Eye holes were cut, with a small bit of clear glass preventing any actual straight attack vector to them. "If you don't want to go, I'd be fine with being the sole representative. Or you can lurk in the shadows while I appear to attend alone, you shouldn't let the bosses decision affect terms agreed upon beforehand."
She paused, considering her words.
"If you've ever worked a straight retail job, you know that sometimes your responsibilities can expand beyond that of what an initial contract entailed. Despite this being a common progression in most careers, if the contract doesn't change, your responsibilities, or the expectations that are held concerning you, shouldn't either. So feel free to approach this in the way you feel is more natural. As a note, you could always try to leverage the increased responsibility for a pay raise at some point, but only if you're a good negotiator."
Creep breathed through her nose, working to keep calm as Visage confirmed knowing her eyes could be seen. That… could be dangerous, in the event they were together when Sheila was Wisp. She’d just have to keep this in mind. Then… Visage started giving suggestions, both for the coming event and for her career as a villain. Despite herself, Sheila felt a bit comforted, and answering came more naturally.
‘… I’d like to be there, but being invisible is too dangerous. Denver’s villains will have gathered, and odds are somebody could see me, and somebody dangerous might feel it an insult that I tried to sneak in my presence. I’d rather not my power be publicly displayed in such an event. Much preferable that I’m simply there, a mystery they’ll have to grumble about.’ So she reasoned.
‘… Noted,’ she responded to the advice on changing contracts. ‘I don’t… consider myself a good talker.’ … Now, Sheila, whatever happened to the unfriendly Creep persona you were going to employ, she mentally asked herself. Still, they had to cooperate, so this was to their advantage.
"I love the blindfold by the way, it's a great touch. If I were you I'd show more skin, but at the same time costumes can be hard to adjust when you're still growing." She said, switching subjects just often enough to keep Creep off guard. "Well I'll be happy to have you along then" Visage was no longer actually keeping her eyes on Creep, just around her outline instead. It was a small difference, but she did it intentionally. "Now then, what will you be wearing?" This was something she was very much interested in, and it showed.
Despite herself, Sheila felt a touch of pride when her blindfold was praised, though immediately felt awkward again at the mention of showing more skin. Sheila felt that would be both hard and embarrassing to incorporate… She would have replied, but Visage was already onto the next point, being glad having her around. Creep nodded, and was about to ask a question of her own when suddenly Visage instead asked that.
‘… This, I was intending…?’ Creep asked, confused as to what else she could possibly wear, feeling nervous she had made an error in her judgment. It was her costume, after all.
Reaching up, Visage did a small flourish. As her hair came down she activated her power with full dissonance. A black dress hung tightly to the curves that were more teased by her costume, a black mask covering all of her face except her right eye and the cheek beneath it. The other eye wasn't even visible, which left a striking contrast. The red of her hair was more vibrant now, though that could've been because of the costume change. "I was thinking something like this for myself, something to break up the monotony. Do you think it's too much?" She asked, ignoring Creep's answer to the question before this one. It wouldn't be too far off to assume Nora had only asked the question to answer it herself.
Creep took a step away from Visage in pure cautious nature when suddenly the other parahuman's appearance changed. When the changes became apparent Creep froze, though other indications of her amazement was mostly hidden under blindfold and mask, but amazed she was. It was similar to some of Sheila’s own abilities, but didn’t seem to suffer the same limitations. Hard to say without knowing how it worked. Now, Visage asked her if she thought it was too much, but worrying Sheila had another question she wanted to ask now that she saw the demonstration of the power.
‘If things go bad, will you be able to hide?’ Creep asked, naturally wondering if she had to protect her. Still, she was amazed, and it hurt a little to have to force the instinct to say that away.
"That'd be such a waste, don't you think? I try not to hide much," Visage said, inspecting the dress's material. She couldn't actually see it, but she could pretended none the less. "If it comes to it, I can hide just fine. And of course we can trust each other not to share what we know about the other's power." She took a couple steps closer, seeming relaxed with her arms down, but it was still a violation of Creep's personal space. "Us girls gotta stick together after all." Visage was grinning now, Cheshire and unapologetic.
Creep stared at Visage and then nodded when she confirmed that she can, in fact, hide. Then… Visage wandered closer, and Creep turned her head to the right, to avoid a feeling of awkwardness at the closeness, but Visage could feel she was still watching. … Sheila got the feeling Visage felt that she was feeling uncomfortable. A sudden realization in her said that she was showing weakness. That wasn’t a very villain thing to do, was it? Visage had so gracefully entered her range. …
Suddenly, to Visage, the room suddenly started tilting. The same way a vortex tunnel at an amusement park causes the visitors to stumble and fall, her balance would be attacked by the instinct to either fall or grab onto something, Creep gracefully stepping out the way if she was grabbed for. Creep didn’t do it as intensly as she could, however, as her hope was that the Visage would just stagger out of Creep’s range, where the world would then rectify itself.
‘Yeah, it’s to our advantage to be friendly and stick together… but please, not that close, okay…?’ Creep said, letting a bit of amusement into her voice. Now to see how Visage reacted.
Visage saw the room tilt, but didn't feel it. The illusion was sold regardless, and the woman stumbled backwards, eyes wide. Visage hit the ground harder than she would have liked, and tried to regain her composure. The world wasn't actually tilting, it was just an illusion. She narrowed her eyes at Creep after relocating her, and took in the words. "Yeah." She said, the grin gone. "Right." Visage stood, ignoring the urge to reach out her hands and balance herself. Grace was very important. "I'm going to go now. It was nice meeting you Creep. We can meet up here a bit before the meeting and head in together, but until then." Visage turned on her heel, the dress turning back to her standard villain garb as she dismissed the node. She was seething.
Creep simply kept watching as Visage dealt with what had happened to her. … Whoops. Might have lost a potential friend there. Still, acting-like-a-villain points. Sheila felt remarkably torn between feeling proud she had been able to pull it off and feeling horribly guilty for her most recent action. Still, she had to simply suck it up, and remain Creep.
‘Yeah. You as well, Visage. I did like the dress,’ Creep said, nodding to the other parahuman and letting her leave.
Day of the meeting
Creep arrived around half an hour earlier than she probably needed. Better early than late. If that meant she arrived before Visage or not, Visage was the one person that’d know she was in the room. Still. Creep attempted to talk as quickly as possible, revealing herself as she had been invisible heading here. Creep was wearing the same clothes as last time, no changes to her appearance.
‘Hi. Are you ready? Did you plan anything specific?’ Creep asked. Herself, she probably wasn't very ready, probably would let Visage do the talking as much as possible so she could stay inconspicuous and avoid making mistakes. She was a bit worried about how Visage might behave towards her due to last time's end, but Creep at the very least thought she was okay, so far. But… it was good to remember that she was a villain.
Creep saw Visage enter at the some moment Visage's power told her about Creep's presence. Visage nodded in response to the question, smiling again, though it only showed in her eyes. She was wearing almost the exact same outfit as she had showed Creep with her power, though all the details were more fully realized. Blush was splashed against the revealed cheek, the red lending a nice tone to her pale skin, as well as further contrasting the dark mascara she wore. A cut in the dress's thigh area was also present though it still clung very tightly to her curves. "We go there, we look intimidating, and I make sure at least one of them falls for me." Nora's voice was sultry again. "If you want, we could arrive together, I think that would be for the best."
Creep actually found herself a bit amused by Visage’s line about making someone fall for her. ‘Yeah… You do that. You look more suitable for that. I’ll stick to looking intimidating.’ She nodded to the next part, relieved that it still seemed like they could work together despite what she pulled last time.
‘Yeah. Let’s go.’
Creep
Sheila Hopkins
Villain’s Meeting Visible
This was it.
Time to show up.
Time for all the villains to lay their eyes on her and judge her.
Sheila barely resisted a quiver, her fears powerful.
Okay, time to be Creep. Sheila tried to self-impose the mentality of a villain who didn’t care what others thought of her, confident, determined, deadly. She frowned under the blindfold, willing her expression to become angry.
Strangely, it helped.
Creep walked into the bar she wasn’t actually old enough to enter without bothering to look at anyone else. Everyone else would see a girl in a black coat, hood pulled over her hair, black blindfold and mask over eyes and mouth, showing only her white nose for skin as her hands were in gloves. A bit of her hair, which appeared brown because Sheila was colouring it, leaked down under the hood. For those who could perceive it, a small voice-changer was incorporated into the mask for security, just a small black box by her mouth hidden by the mask. In her belt were her knives, and inside her clothes she stored the gun and darts. Just in case.
While Creep didn’t look directly at anyone, Sheila was examining each and every one of them using her powers, swirling their images inside her range while still ensuring the light projected by the area was still completely natural, they wouldn’t notice a thing. She examined those present. The Jacks. The mob. Sabotage. … Quite a few that the internet hadn’t told her about, those that she’d hope to know more about by the day’s end. She felt sorry for the bartender. Then again, perhaps he had an extensive criminal record, was employed by villains and was used to this sort of thing.
Without noting anyone else, Creep arrived alongside Visage. Regardless of what Visage did, Creep showed her invitation to the one who needed it and then proceeded to simply walked over to sit down at one of the spots assigned to the Rockers. She sat straight, put her hands on her legs in a relaxed state, and looked straight forward at nobody in particular unless Visage sat down opposite her, hoping on that with her eyes hidden nobody would know what to make of her. Yet, using her powers she examined everyone she could, and tried to eavesdrop as much as possible…
She felt extremely frightened right about now, the pressure immense from all the real villains around her. Sheila focused on staying calm and learning what she could from here.
"Wow, you really did go the extra mile, huh?" Genevieve thanked him, pulling the drink close to her as she admired the umbrella before having a taste. And she was right, the cocktail was very good. But one couldn't deny the obvious tense feel at their table after Heartless' sudden appearance. They were on edge, and to be honest, it put a little pressure on her. But that's why Heartless' question didn't come as a surprise. After all, he wasn't being friendly only cause of her looks. Certainly not there out of all places.
"Yeah, of course I know them," she looked in their direction, "I don't go chatting up to random strangers." Genevieve then turned her attention to Heartless once more, a playful expression on her face as if to communicate that what he'd done was wrong. But she wasn't lying. She obviously knew the rest of the group, although she was not about to make their interaction take a turn for the worse by giving away their brief history. At the very least, it would put both them and her at a disadvantage.
With her hands crossed in front of her on the table, Genevieve leaned forward to take another sip of her drink, the black strands from her wig slowly falling in front of her shoulders. "But honestly, they're good people despite the fact that they seem to want to kill you with their looks as you put it."
The scent was wrong. Nora was following Creep, and despite the crowd of interesting villains, she was still caught off guard by the scent. She had been to many bars and this didn’t smell right. Purge sitting at the table he was could’ve explained it, but it didn’t seem correct. The next thing she noticed was that no one could see her eyes. Nora was two steps in when she realized her power was not registering anyone present. She stopped the dress swinging forward for a moment before stopping with her.
”The games already begun, huh? Stopping powers. Well I’m out then, I know the risk that carries for everyone present. I’m going, Creep will have to be the sole representative of the Rockers. Please don’t stop me, or the value of this neutral meeting will be underminded further than it already has been.”
Her voice was much more matter of fact than normal, and anyone paying very close attention might be able to tell that she seemed genuinely worried. Even though she was used to not using her power, being without the option even frightened her to her core. It was something too near and dear to her everyday life. She turned around, walking towards the door. Nora’s library of nodes was gone too, not as if the pages were blank but as if there was an empty lot where the library had once been.
Silvia fidgeted in her seat, she was a little worried about how this whole event was going to go down. So many people coming, so many people going to see her, so many people going to ask questions. She was freaking out. She tapped her fingers on her leg, but this tapping was rather loud given her metallic skin, so she quickly stopped. She started looking around, trying to distract herself with something until the event started. She looked over at the cape sat close to her, she smiled awkwardly at them before quickly looking back into her lap. She didn't actually know who they were, all she knew is they were heroes. Little did she know she was next to the most popular cape in Denver.
The wait felt like an eternity, her worries nagging at her, making her want to leave. But her fears were only full realized when people quickly stared swarming in, so many people, so many eyes. How many of these eyes would be on her? No. How many of these eyes were on her? And it appeared not as many as she thought, she was getting some people looking at her, but most eyes seemed to be on the man next to her. He must be pretty amazing then. This helped her stress levels drop considerably, but her feet still fidgeted under her table.
She was caught off guard when she saw a few people walking towards her, she forced herself to calm down a bit, putting on a smile for the civilians. She looked down at the first, the first in the small line was actually a little kid, his parents followed behind him although they didn't share the kids boundless enthusiasm. The child was bouncing around almost, almost unable to contain his excitement, he couldn't have been over 7 years old.
"Hello! Can I take a picture with you!?"
Sylph didn't know what to say, the kid was so excited to see her. She was mostly surprised honestly, but also a little happy. Her smile shifted from nervous to genuine as she got out of her chair.
"Of coarse you can. As long as your parents are alright with it."
Silvia looked over to the kids parents, looking for their confirmation. They both nodded, the mother chuckling a little as the dad produced a camera. With that Sylph knelt down next to the kid, smiling brightly for the photo. The kid poked out his for the photo while Sylph just smiled and spread her wings out a little. The camera flashed and the kid ran back to his parents to get a look at how it came out.
"Thank you Sylph! You're so cool!"
Sylphy got back into her seat smiling at the boy as he was guided of by his parents.
"You're very welcome."
Sylph was feeling oddly calm, who knew taking a photo with someone could be such a confidence boost?
Sylph had managed to get through the entire event without crumbling into an emotional mess. That was a plus. She looked over at the really popular man, she'd found out he was Furnace. She'd heard a little bit about him but not that much. But he was indeed a big deal it seemed, but Sylph's gave drifted over to wards. So that was the entire team, maybe she could meet them. Yeah. She'd go over and talk to the, she wasn't that much older than them but her stature might make that a little hard to deduce. She slowly got up, her wings folding up neatly behind her. She'd approach the wards like a cautious puppy, twiddling her thumbs, and head hanging low.
"H-hello."
Sylph said with a little wave, she instantly regretted her decision to try talk with the wards, she should have just stayed on her seat. She almost let out a whimper as she took a step back, she'd only talked with Epsilon, all the others were strangers. Instinctively her gaze drifted over to the Epsilon, her eye were practically asking for help. She wanted to walk away, but that would be so awkward it might kill her. Sylph had gotten herself stuck.
Elliot jerked awake, blinking to clear the drowsiness from his eyes as he straightened up. He'd been slumped over so long that his back ached, and on the hand that he'd been resting his chin in there seemed to be a sticky liquid. In front of him stood a twelve-year-old kid wearing a whole heap of Cape merchandise. As he ran his eyes over it, Elliot could make our a number of signatures, but he paid the greatest attention to the boy's look of intense thought.
A mysterious, captivating smile appeared on Elliot's face, and he crossed his arms as he turned a quarter-circle to the side. “You do, do you? Of course—you seem the studious, perceptive type. Your vestments identify you as a true, perhaps even fanatical, supporter of heroism. I'll wager you wait with bated breath when word gets out of some ne'er-do-well causing a ruckus, flipping through channels to see which hero answers duty's call. Am I right?” The youngster nodded, though is pensive expression did not lessen. “So then, who is it that beams down at you from atop righteousness's holy dias?”
The kid clapped his hands together, his eyebrows knit together in determined realization. “You're that super-dork that's full of himself and plays with toys, Marbleguv!”
A few seconds of silence passed as the dull-eyed antihero stared at the child from atop his stool, overlooking the plastic table that lay before him, adorned with a fastidiously-organized pile of pictures of himself posing. At length, Elliot replied in a clipped voice, “...You must have me mistaken. I am...Margrave. THE Margrave. And I do not play with toys; I resize and reconstitute all manner of objects, applying them with ingenious wit to make the most of every situation! Look, it says here!” Elliot produced a black card with the exact tagline he just recited emblazoned on its surface in silver, alongside an image of his face with his hand held in front of it. “How d'you like that? The first in my new series of hand-made collectible cards!”
The boy did not take the card. Nor did he bother masking his disinterested expression. “Ookay.” He put his hands in his pockets and turned to walk away. “Uh, sorry, but that's pretty lame. If you could make action figures, that'd be cool, but...uh, bye!”
Taking a deep breath, Elliot leaned back in his stool, though he managed to stop himself before getting to the point where he'd fall over backwards. As fun as potentially knocking himself out sounded right now, he felt like a quick rendezvous with the ground would not give him the jolt of energy he needed to get through today. Instead, he placed a palm against the back of his neck, angling his elbow outward, and turned his closed eyes up to the ceiling in a pose suggesting admirability. “I'm counting that. Heheh. Always nice to be recognized!” he told himself, his tone very satisfied. “Hour and a half and I already got one visitor. Everything's turning up Margrave!”
His expression soured six seconds later. In fact, it went from gregarious to glacial. Elliot considered putting his hood on and trying to go back to sleep, but with the hubbub that had swollen throughout the event center he doubted he'd be able to. “Why am I here?” he half-mumbled, half-growled. “Spotlight's no place for...anti-heroes...” Shutting his eyes, he tried to tune out the noise. To his left, where the other Wards and their booths were, he could hear a new and different voice, but he paid it no attention. The others -especially Tiger Lily, who he now felt ashamed of looking down on- had been getting fans nonstop, so nothing remarkable demanded his attention. His own station was only about a booth-and-a-half away from where the others were arrayed, but that combined with his lack of costume seemed to be deterring pretty much anyone from coming over. Yeah, I'm sure those are the only reasons, he thought, grim-faced. Did they even realize he was one of them? It had been his intention to set himself up as something separate, to avoid falling under their brand and to escape the commercialized 'hero' image that now held them, but now that seemed liked a bad idea. Whatever. I don't need the attention anyway. In fact, of not for being required to be here as one of the Wards, I wouldn't be here. I'm not missing out on a single thing. He put his head in his hand again, though not as part of an elaborate pose, for once.
Hanging about the bar, stirring a drink with a small red umbrella. There was the barest of smiles on his lips as he watched the various interactions in the room, humming softly as he did so. Broker had given him permission to use his power, but he would play it safe, he'd decided. There was, after all, a distinct possibility that there was someone in the room who could identify the presence of his power.
He would rather not tip his hand.
So it was that he remained apart from those in the room and simply watched, for once...almost silent. He was biding his time.
Evelyn Chambers – Tulpa
It had a rough and emotional—if fairly uneventful—three weeks since the incident at the warehouse. She was in full costume with the attention of many fans, if not so many who apprecaited her personally. She told herself it was because she was one of the newest wards, with only two missions under her belt, but even Lillian had more people come up to her than she had.
It grated.
Smiling, she still occasionally managed to get lost in the adoration and idolization and occasionally the recognition of those few fans who understood her name and had hung on every tidbit of news about her. It seemed that the PRT had done a decent job controlling the story about the warehouse to some degree as more often than not those who approached her personally—rather than to just fill some quota of getting all the Wards signatures—seemed to see her in an exceptionally positive light. When it was the little kids it made her smile warmly. Given that she was wearing a different mask, one for public appearances rather than the field, they could actually see it when she smiled.
She liked that. It was connection and it felt good. Even in the sometimes euphoric haze of attention she continually found her gaze drawn around the room to the other capes who had been allowed to make an appearance.
Every time she thought of one, the 'shadow' seemed to twitch and writhe in the foundation of the building where she was keeping it. It put a damper on things, but nothing could take away the little girl in her who wanted to go all doe eyed and squeal everytime she saw a hero.
She'd idolized some of these people as a little girl, and once she'd gotten her own powers and gotten past the trauma, she'd found herself far more obsessed than she had been before. Evelyn thought there was a good chance that a part of that obsession with capes was her power talking...rather than her.
It was a weird thought, but she didn't mind it too much.
A few times Evelyn snuck a little peak at another cape's powers using a hidden thread from her 'shadow' right through the floor. She felt a little bad when she did it, but not in a criminal way. It reminded her that she was only seventeen, it reminded her that it was okay to be a little naughty.
At the thought she couldn't help but let her eyes wander to a few of the other capes in the room. She bit her lip briefly at the thought. Man, that guy in black with the white boots was yummy. Swallowing hard, her eyes darted away, her cheeks—though largely hidden—reddened. Fortunately the Wards were approached by another cape, a case 53, and her appearance, not to mention her appearance served to distract her.
"Wow, you look amazing." The words were out of her mouth before she could stop herself. She brought a hand up and covered her mouth, embarrassed.
Outsider
Though the emotion had been mild, and still was, he'd found himself rather surprised that the Minutemen were invited to the event. He was glad for the publicity and used some of the time to build his image—though he did it in constume rather than in Second Vessel—and spread his name and willingness to help. He wanted to do hero work and he wanted to use his power to help others, not to mention give them a better impression than his other form tended to.
He found, to even greater surprise—though muddied bu its dullness—that he was actually well liked among those who knew him...and that more people than he thought would have, did in fact know him. It turned out that turning into a giant airborne sea monster made one pretty popular with the kids—at least those who weren't terrified.
So it was that he actually found himself smiling for much of his time, and not just the smallest of smirks, but an actual smile. He knew that the emotion must be more like jubilation than or intense joy to make him react so. It felt good.
Still, the whole thing was somewhat marred by the fact that he knew this might just be the last time the Minutemen were together, after all this was Kyoshi's last gig. They hadn't been close, but she was an asset and a good hero. He'd miss her.
Glancing about, though he never really strayed from their booth, Outsider sometimes caught people staring at him, less with the eyes of adoration that people tended to aim at heroes, and more with, well, want. It was weird to have so many women, even if most of them were a good few years younger than him, giving him so much attention. He supposed his costume did put an emphasis on his body, which was noticeably fit.
Good genes and significant exercise would do that to a guy. While not particularly uncomfortable, it was kind of weird when he noticed a member of the Wards, of all people, staring at him. Then again, maybe he'd been wrong, the girl was wearing a mask after all. Maybe she'd been looking at someone else.
Oh well.
Dismissing the thought, Outsider turned back to his booth just as some kids rushed up for pictures, begging him to come outside and change forms. Laughing for the first time in a little while, he told Kyoshi and G4M3R, before they tugged him away and he disappeared out the door.
Today was a good day, he decided. He hoped he could have more of them soon.
Over the last few weeks the illusion that Sarah could ever go back to her old life pretty much died. During the absence of the Wards, the woman essentially picked up some of the slack in Denver. Thankfully things hadn't been that crazy, but with several of the other heroes taking a break it left more of the odds and ends for her to deal with. Perhaps the worst part was Sarah didn't know who or what Angel was. With the decision of being a hero having been made for her, Sarah opted to just give in.
Having been dragged into a more active role the rookie began to make connections to the local heroes and law enforcement. And while the charity event wasn't exactly a secret, it wasn't something that ever crossed her mind to attend until she was invited during one encounter. While on one hand Sarah still did not enjoy the limelight that came with the territory, Angel seemed to gravitated toward it. It being for a good cause only incentivised going.
Being completely new to this kind of exposure meant having essentially nothing coming in. Thankfully the basics were provided for a meet and greet. Having been given a booth, pens and markers for signing, and some fliers for the PRT she could at least do something. Though she wasn't part of the organization they did fight for the same side.
Were anyone to know the woman behind the beauty, they might have had second thoughts about having her attend. Despite Sarah's less that stellar people skills her alter ego had a way of dredging up old mannerisms and etiquette that she'd not bothered with since childhood. Though that was a fringe effect to her arguably perfect angelic form and Master ability which made her mere presence practically garnered attention. It wasn't attention she necessarily wanted mind you. Being recognized was great but it wasn't why she was a hero. Though explaining why she was a hero beyond "it's the right thing to do" was difficult to articulate even to herself.
Getting the chance to talk to the public more freely was nice though. Getting a more direct opinion from the source was good, though some of the more glowing encounters could have easily been influenced by eye contact. Numerous questions of whether she was actually an angel had to be diverted. Honestly she didn't believe she was, but she couldn't say for certain what the qualifications were. But Sarah was pretty sure she was far from the mark as a person.
After the initial hour and a half things began to settle down. With people getting ready and moved to the next assortment of attractions to the charity. Freed up, Angel set her sights on meeting some of the other heroes she hadn't had the pleasure. Though that was a long list at this point. A quick scan of the room had her looking over in the direction of the Wards. The core group wasn't her focus though. She'd taken notice of a teen off to the side, Margrave as the titled booth informed her. Honestly she wasn't sure if there were any particular rules surrounding who she could or couldn't interact with. However the young man appeared... Frustrated... Or tired perhaps. Admittedly the woman's knowledge of the Wards wasn't very good but as she recalled he was new and turned things into toys. A rather odd ability but parahuman powers did not always make sense.
Regardless of what she knew on not, Angel took the opportunity to try and lighten the mood. This is not a good idea. Brushing away the concern Angel as gracefully as she could excused herself from her present company and proceeded to Margrave's booth. Tapping on the table lightly to alert him to her presence she spoke up. "Long day?" The question was short, but it was more inquisitive to gauge the situation. She took a moment to survey the contents of the table before turning her gaze back to the one she just addressed.
Oh YES, this was wonderful! For three weeks, Alessa had been practically grinding her teeth over her inability to help, the fact that she’d been specifically denied the option of preventing crime and saving lives, but this, now? This was helping - the Wards were interacting with the community and showing they were well; laughs were being shared, not to mention genuine smiles; the event would raise funds for the PRT and Protectorate to further improve everyone’s lives! Everyone was happy.
...nearly everyone was happy. Behind her mask of light- or rather, the fake plastic mask she’d been asked to wear along with her normal outfit just to avoid blinding anyone too much- Alessa certainly felt better than she had since the warehouse tragedy, but... it hung over her still. Even three solid weeks of therapy had not quelled her fears, her worries... particularly the possibility that she’d flashback again, and...
No. No, no, she knew that wouldn’t happen again. One nightmare and one slightly singed house were nothing to worry about. She’d not even had another scene like that since then. Plus, how could she have her mind on things like that when the sweetest kid had just asked for her to sign her poster?
‘...and there you go, Jenny, one poster autograph!’ she exclaimed a couple of moments later, handing the poster back to the little girl, who took a look and let out a legitimate squeal of joy.
‘Thank you, Messiah! You’re the- the best hero ever!’ she squeaked, giving a massive smile - the sentiment clearly reflected by Jenny’s mother in her grateful expression.
‘Nah, you know who’s the best, Jenny? You are.’
‘Eeeee! Thank you!’ D’aww, how heartwarming.
As the two walked off, both clearly pleased, Lillian walked over to Alessa, her own mask hiding her features as she asked how everything was, whether she’d talked to Furnace yet, how G4M3R was having such a bad time, but it was so good to see Noble and Morales back on the field, and...
‘Heh. Don’t worry about it, Lily,’ Alessa replied kindly, lifting her mask just enough to show a grin before returning it to its usual position. ‘Today has been pretty great, but it’s been busy as heck too!’
Before she could say much else, her eye caught the approach of a, uh, draconic, sort of, silvery... rather well-endowed dragon woman. Oh, jeez. Her immediate instinct was a mixture of slight fear, on account of her size, her wings and other reptilian features, and substantial attraction, on account of her... size. Yeah, Evelyn’s comment pretty much summed it up, and it was essentially her own PR training that let her quickly twist the comment to something hopefully more PG:
‘Yyyeah, your outfit’s really well-designed! Can you direct me to whoever set that up for you? Because I want in on their work, hahaa! Ahh, but uh, I recognise you, I think,’ she said thoughtfully once her PR moment was over, frowning beneath the mask. ‘Correct me if I’m wrong, you’re… Sylph, right? The new Case 53 working with the Protectorate?’ As she spoke, she couldn’t help but glance over to Margrave to see how he was doing... oh, jeez. Not that great, huh? Maybe she should go over and see whether she could help him out.
‘Messiah. Wonderful to meet you,’ she offered to the newcomer, holding a hand out to shake semi-distractedly. Once it had been accepted or rejected, she briefly clasped her hand around the dragon-lady’s, murmured ‘Sorry for rushing off like this, Sylph, I swear I’d stick around longer if I wasn’t needed over there, and again, wonderful to meet you,‘ before speed-walking her way over to Margrave just as another highly attractive woman made her presence known to him. Damn it, why were there so many hot women around?
‘Hey, Margrave,’ Alessa uttered in a friendly fashion. Open, she hoped. ‘And of course whoever you are, ma’am - Messiah, nice to meet you.’ Offer a handshake, nod to her in a friendly fashion if and when she gave her name, return to the matter at hand. ‘Now, Margrave, I couldn’t help but notice you seemed a bit on-your-own over here,’ she mentioned matter-of-factly. ‘Do you want to have a chat for a bit? You, me, and Angel? If you want to chat, obviously.’ Was she saying too much? Making this too personal in front of an utter stranger? She imagined Margrave would say something if he was uncomfortable with the notion, but she could never quite tell how he’d react in some situations.
It had been her idea, and it'd been hard to approve. Decoy had taken a long time to satisfy, in showing the device was completely safe under a myriad of conditions. Epsilon even had to radiation proof the damn thing. Putting it on had been another worry, so she hid it under her normal hero attire, just over her undergarments. It was shaped like a heating pad that covered from the top of her back to right above her backside. Rt did inflate a little bit, but that was a subtle change. Epsilon was flying by the seat of her pants when she was making it, so to speak, and as such it had taken her much less to make it than her other tinker devices. It had a battery that could last around thirty minutes, but it had a lot of excess 'heat.' It wasn't actual heat, in fact it got very cold during normal operation.
Pressing the button on the remote caused a bit of lift, and made her feel very light on her feet. If she gave any amount of push to the ground, she would continue upward until stopped, or until the atmosphere got too thin. It reminded her of when you pushed all the oxygen out of your lungs, and stayed under water. The lack of buoyancy would keep you at a near neutral level in the fluid. Epsilon had practiced with the machine extensively, and now she pushed every so lightly to lift herself off the ground, grabbing the edge of the booth above her to bring herself right in front of a very confused little girl, and her equally confused mother.
The little girl had a small mask hanging off her head, reminiscent of Narwhal's. "How are you? Are you enjoying the event?" She asked, trying her best to seem like the bubbly superhero that she would often see on TV. Epsilon twisted her hips, switching what hand was held onto the booth above her, so that she was upside down. The girl giggled, and the mother decided the appropriate reaction was to smile, happy that her daughter was getting the fun she came to the event for. It didn't last long though, as the daughter pulled on her mothers leg, trying to get her to head towards the table with Furnace and various other members of the protectorate. A long breath escaped Epsilon's lip, as she brought herself back to ground level, and deactivated her flight pack. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Sylph approaching a different set of booths, and waved frantically at the woman.
Hermes: Not so Fun(draising)
Furnace was quite the diplomatic fellow, not once mentioning the history between him and Hermes while they sat next to each other. Hermes answered questions that were thrown to him every so often, but more than that he sat and listened. This was probably one of the last places he would've liked to be, but the PR lady had been very clear that it was important he go. He had conceded, and now gave his best approximation of someone who really didn't enjoy public events. He, at least, sold that.
Into the Stygian depths of murky resentment and dire delinquency plunged a glimmering beacon of light. Its radiance pierced the abyss's unnameable bed, dredging from the black mire a creature long since resigned to the deepest dark.
Stirring, Elliot glanced up to see that a gorgeous face well suited the melodic voice that disturbed his sullen reprieve. It was all the more attractive for the fact that he did not recognize it, which meant that someone stood before him that he might yet mystify and amaze. Her question set the gears spinning in his head, and the lone prodigy's unsung genius went to work.
Leaning back, he held one arm across his middle for the elbow of his other to rest on, and having held that couched limb skyward, he flicked his hand in an offhanded what-can-you-do gesture. “More like 'long life', unfortunately,” he conceded, his tone brimming with casual confidence tinged by weary determination. “But no matter how hard it is to get up in the morning, we are heroes because we answer the call, right? Your concern is, of course, appreciated, not to mention rather touching from someone so fetching.” He became aware of a troubling presence now dominating his left peripheral—Alessa. Of course. Here to rain on his parade, just as his luck was turning around. Her words, which practically trumped his own, confirmed his apprehension that she was inserting herself unnecessarily and shamelessly into this situation to put him down. Even worse, those words held the suggestion of something venomous: pity. Elliot's right eyebrow twitched, the only fault in his masking of inner frustration. How dare this insipid peabrain have pity on me? What have I done to deserve such condescension? Could it be that someone who broke down like a preschooler during the warehouse incident has the audacity to feel sorry for me in front of someone who chose to interact with me out of her own free will? Her delusions run deeper than imagined righteousness and heroism.
But after a moment of making sure his mild indignation was visible, all Elliot said was, “Hmm...I'm afraid you have me mistaken. If I seem out-of-sorts, it is merely the byproduct of some rogue stress or another.” He turned a pointed smile Alessa's way. “And if I seem distant, it is merely because I wished to avoid needless conversations at inopportune moments. Us Wards do, after all, have the opportunity to interact any time outside of this event.” Interlacing his fingers, he placed his hands on the desk before him. After looking between both young women, he said, “Of course, this is the first advent of the illustrious Margrave at a public event—the first glance into the hidden secrets of the Wards' Sixth Ranger. So I can't blame you for being...interested, Messiah. If there's anything I can do for you -either of you- please don't hesitate to ask.”
