[IC] 𝗠𝗮𝗿𝘃𝗲𝗹𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘀𝗲: 𝕊𝕥𝕣𝕖𝕖𝕥 𝕃𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕝 ℍ𝕖𝕣𝕠𝕖𝕤

[WindsOfFate]

Succumb to me. Shatter your inhibitions.

_{Location: KingPin Warehouse}

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Time stood still for no one. Even now humans age every second of every day, and yet most of them walk around with smiles on their faces. Death was the only true catalyst to bring to their minds the fragility of life. Death was the true epitome of time’s dark side, and yet there were those who relished the dark, those who existed beyond the wretched grasp of time. In the end, humans all shook hands with the grim reaper, but in his eyes the grim reaper feared him. The grim reaper had no authority over his end, for he had chosen to be the captain of his own ship, the creator of his own destiny. How long would it take for the bonds to break and release the dark cold hand of chaos?

Shi’a stood in front of the full length mirror. His slender form glistened beneath the rays of the overhead lights. His tanned blemish free skin showed years of hard work and dedication. His arms, though lean, held strength from constant training. His chest, his abs, even his thighs and legs held stories of constant bone breaking training and yet his skin was soft and velvet to the touch. His beautiful icy blue eyes held stories that would chill the spine of any who dared to listen. Long black and royal purple hair cascaded down his back and rested just above his butt. He was satisfied with his look, though it meant little to him. Pleasing to others, but his own looks were something that didn’t phase him as much as it did others. Every now and then he would be mistaken for a woman and eventually decided to let people think whatever it is they would think. He took on the role of either gender, presenting a strong version of each to the eyes of any who gazed upon his dangerous beauty.

“Master, Lord Ashura wishes to speak with you.”

The shaky voice of the chambermaid filtered into the room from the doorway. Shi’loh turned to place his cold gaze on her and smiled.

“Thank you Laylah. You are dismissed.”

Shi’a pulled the dark purple under robe over his nude form and followed it by a black elegant dragon embossed thin garment that seemed to flutter when no wind was present. It gave an ethereal feel. In fact, Shi’a entire presence was ethereal to those who managed to survive encounters with him. He moved with such elegance and poise, almost as if he floated. Shi’a grabbed his keys and moved towards the meeting room of the large mansion. He was visiting his father in hopes of spending a little family time. He’d left New York four years ago to help his father establish businesses in other parts of the country, and his success was astronomical.

Standing in front of the great wooden doors, Shi’a reached out to push only for one of the many hired hands to hurriedly open it for him.

“Lord Ashura, you wish to speak with me?,” Shi’a asked, as he moved to stand before the intimidating man. His brows nor hair showed any sign of age, but he was well in his forties. The man’s body was forged from the work he’d done to become the Kingpin of New York. His cane was a gift from Shi’a, something that would always come in handy should he need it. Many rings adorned the fingers on each massive hand. Lord Ashura turned to face Shi’a and smirked.

“How are you settling in? It’s been four years since you’ve stayed here.”

“I am adjusting. The time differences take some getting used to.”

One of Lord Ashura’s men came in and moved swiftly to his side. There was an exchange of whispers before Lord Ashura’s face contorted to show distaste. Whatever the man had said he didn’t like. Shi’a watched as the man stepped back before speaking.

“What’s going on?”

“Someone likes to play vigilante, it seems.”

Shi’a raised an eyebrow. Any man was a fool to step foot on the wrong side of Lord Ashura.

“How so?” Shi’a asked.

“Inventory wasted. There was, how can I put it? Complications at one of my locations. A little nuisance who likes to use golden rounds from a particular gun. When I get my hands on him…”

“Allow me to go send a message to them as well as any who dare challenge your authority.”

A look of concern washed over Lord Ashura’s face. Though he was a crime boss, he was also a father to Shi’a and didn’t like sending his son on missions without necessary intel. He also was aware of what Shi’a meant by ‘sending a message’ and the last event played over in his head. The amount of money he’d spent to cover it up could have built several hundred homes, but yet he knew if he sent Shi’a, the job would get done, but even he held a slight fear of his own son when it came to his deadly arts.

“Very well, but you are to report to me everything you find, and you are to not engage with the law enforcement. The last thing we need is a news report about dead cops. The media would be all over it.”

“Don’t you worry. I will be in and out like a shadow, but I do have one question before I leave. Who is this vigilante you speak of?”

“Ahh, the one known as ArcLight. My intel has collected a bit of information on him. I can get you the file if you want.”

“Just the gist will do. I like surprises.”

“He carries around this Lee Enfield rifle and has these special bullets that make short work of my men.”

“Excellent.”

Before Lord Ashura could say another word, Shi’a was gone. A puff of black and purple smoke was all that remained in the space that Shi’a once occupied.

==

Red and blue lights surrounded the building that was once the Kingpin’s factory. Illegal substances sold to the highest bidder are now useless in the hands of the police. There were numerous of them, happy that they’d made such a large discovery, but in truth it wasn’t the only factory in New York. There were numerous, each with its connected purpose. As the police slowly began to round up the Tracksuits that complained about not being able to see clearly, or out of one eye.

“Fascinating,” Shi’a said right into the ear of one of the police officers who was standing by observing.

The startled man quickly drew his weapon and Shi’a tilted his head at the man.

“How much did you collect?”

By now the other police officers were turning to see Shi’a who repeated his question in case the officer was hard of hearing.

“Who are you? Why are you here?” the man demanded.

“I am here for retribution.”

The shift was swift, and an ominous cold filled the area. The man fired a shot that pierced the figure in front of him, but struck the wall behind it. Shi’a form had shifted to that of a Shadow Wraith. The officer’s eyes widened at what he was seeing and before he could fire off another shot, his scream filled the air. Gunshots rang out, but soon quieted as one by one each fell to the touch of the dark entity. The hooded figure turned to gaze upon the Tracksuits, hovering over to them.

“You had ONE job. Tell me, how were you bested by one mere mortal?”

Shi’a’s voice filled the ears of the frightened semi blinded men. It was no mistake that the sound of his voice drove many insane. It was akin to several hundred souls speaking at once.

“There was more than one sir, there was this thing that wasn’t affected by our bullets.”

Shi’a’s interest was poked.

“Go on.”

“It came in and we shot at it, but it wouldn’t go down. The bullets kept going right through it. Then it released this searing light that blinded most of us. It’s nothing like I’ve ever seen. There was this guy too with this rifle. He shot us.”

“Enough. I have all I need,” Shi’a said.

He turned to leave after breaking the restraints that held the Tracksuits. “I will let you live this time, but one more screw up and I will feast on your souls. Go back to the Kingpin and tell him why you failed.”

Without a sound Shi’a was gone. The police officers would begin to wake a few minutes later. He was sure they would be a report made on what happened, but what was a return without a little fun?

[The Man Emperor]

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Shiloh Asura, the Wraith

Corvus Rodin Helstrom, the Arclight

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“Enough. I have all I need,” Shi’a said.

He turned to leave after breaking the restraints that held the Tracksuits. “I will let you live this time, but one more screw up and I will feast on your souls. Go back to the Kingpin and tell him why you failed.”

Without a sound Shi’a was gone. The police officers would begin to wake a few minutes later. He was sure they would be a report made on what happened, but what was a return without a little fun?

Corvus, at the same time, snuck away from the old auto shop that had served as a drug den, if only for a short while, and trudged upon the thick snow drifts that had come to afflict this particular alley. There was a narrow path that appeared to have been shoveled, perhaps last night, but it too was starting to get filled up with snow. He quickly headed out, and soon, he was in another building, scoped rifle pointed at the streets below to look out for future threats.

On the snow, there would be footprints, but there was little time before these too got covered up by the new snowfall from the skies. Perhaps these are more than enough…?

Shi’a wasted no time scouring the auto shop for any sign of the intruders. This ArcLight was a nuisance to his boss and Shi’a would have to see what all the fuss was about. When there was no sign, Shi’a returned to the street and looked at the small auto shop. It didn’t take long for him to locate footprints in the snow ridden alley near the auto shop. Perhaps his prey was watching. Shi’a, still in his wraith form, released a loud and intense wail that collided with the auto shop. The metal beams and brick walls struggled to remain still against the force of the sound, but nothing could withstand the power of sound. The beams began to snap, and bricks began crumbling as the wail intensified until the building collapsed. Thankfully with no one inside. Any within the vicinity would find it hard to concentrate and be disoriented after the ear piercing wail. Shi’a floated in place for a moment allowing the cold snow to fall onto his form. He moved just in frame of Corvus’ scope.

Corvus paused. He examined this strange wraithlike being through his scope, taking note that he had shifted from a human to a… ghost, wraith thing. Seeing him now, though, pretty much confirmed all he needed to know. This was Shi'a Asura, one of the assassins in service of Kingpin. A bad guy.

The scoped rifle shimmered with a golden glow, pulsating with powerful mutant energy. This was a chance that he may never get again… take out the right hand of the big man himself. And, then perhaps, draw out the Kingpin later on.

Corvus wasn't a slayer, for the most part, at least. But for this one, he'll have to make an exception.

The crack of a rifle shot filled the air, with the bullet letting out a stream of yellow light as a testament to its enhanced state… and it missed by just an inch. The wall right in front of Shi'a, though, exploded in a smattering of shattered brick. That blow was powerful enough to have pierced the armor of an armored personnel carrier, and certainly would have killed a normal human. But this enemy was no human…

Pieces of brick flew up and struck Shi’a in the shoulder before falling to the ground. The explosion had sent dust and debris all over, but Shi’a remained still, hovering, unphased by the attempt on his life. Someone had targeted him. No doubt it was the one responsible for the mess earlier, the one who had become a thorn in his father’s side. Shi’a gazed in the direction the shot had come from. The light had vanished as quickly as it had come, nearly half a second, but that was all he needed. The thrill of the hunt filled him with adrenaline. It had been ages since he’d been in the field to assist his father, and yet he grew more excited at the thought of draining the soul from the mortal's body and watching the light fade from his eyes. It was always the same when they faced him. They were always so sure they could vanquish him, always ready to battle and yet when they set eyes upon him, the very fear that they once hid came to the surface. The very soul within their mortal frames quivers and begs to be freed, and Shi’a being the gentle angel of death simply delivers freedom at their request.

Shi’a had slipped into the shadow with such swiftness, it was hard to keep track, that is until he struck. His voice filled the room first.

“Well well, you must be the infamous Arclight. I expected more from you.”

Shi’a emerged from the shadows as black and purple miasma slowly poured from him, traveling along the floor.

“I have so many questions.”

Corvus faced Shi’a with a furious glare, the weapon he was holding shimmering with golden light. Even the bayonet affixed to the bottom of the gun barrel glowed as well, signifying that it had been enhanced to greater proportions of power.

“Expected more?”, Corvus replied, taking out a pistol from beneath his coat and infusing it with the quiet rhythm of psychic energy. “Did you expect someone taller? I’m sorry to disappoint you. I really am.”

Corvus, knowing that something as ghostlike as this couldn’t be fought in close quarters, let alone with that strange miasma spewing all around it. He wasn’t sure what that was, but Corvus did not desire to test it out. What he needed, then, was a more open area.

Arclight fired an infused round, aiming it at the floor that Shi’a was standing at. He quickly turned tail and ran towards the open window out of which he had fired his shot, aiming to land upon that conveniently angled piece of roof. He was going to get to the open streets…

The man was actually rather handsome. Funny how mortals spent a majority of their lives fascinated by the beauty others possessed. Shi’a tilted his head at the response of the rifle wielding vigilante and would have laughed had the shot aimed at the floor not distracted him. The resulting explosion caused the floor to cave and debris to hit Shi’a ethereal form again, yet he remained hovering over the huge hole caused by Arclight. The man dashed towards an open window and landed on the roof. The chase was always the fun part. Shi’a miasma twisted and melded into a beautiful bow. Souls trapped within the weapon begged to be free. He pulled the silver bow string and waited for the right moment. With great precision he released two arrows that soared at immense velocity towards Corvus.

Corvus looked over his shoulder to see whether Shi'a had been neutralized by the previous shattering of the floorboards… only for him to see that the man was still there. Now, though, the pursuing wraith person was aiming at him with a bow… and he looked just in time to see the string get loose.

It was strange, then, that the arrows made no sound. Corvus evaded one of the flying projectiles, but the other hit him at the shoulder. Right at the same place where he had shot the Tracksuits a while ago. He yelped in pain. This was different to what he had expected from an arrow. It would seem that just like the man himself, the arrows were not mundane in nature… but magical? The arrow wasn't stuck there, despite the welling sense of pain that lingered on that spot, and there wasn't any bleeding.

"Ow. Ow," Corvus hissed as he tried to lift the gun to no avail as the stinging sensation on his shoulder forced down his arm. He felt slower, too. Something definitely was fishy about those arrows.

"Okay, we can talk about this. How much does he pay you?... Eh…"

Alright, that was quite the blunder.

Shi’a phased through the wall that separated him from Corvus and approached the man who was pinned by his spirit shackle. The more he resisted, the tighter the chain would become. Shi’a hovered like smoke on the wind until he was a mere foot or two away from Corvus.

“Ahh, now you wish to talk. Very well, I suppose I can talk. After all, it has been a while since someone as handsome as you has crossed my sight,” Shi’a said, moving in a circle around his prey. “If you are wondering what he pays me, I assure you it is beyond your bank account, but perhaps you can compensate me in other ways.”

Shi’a hand reached out and stroked the side of Corvus’ face before retracting back into his form.

“Relax, I’m merely having a little fun. Now, there is something I want to know and you are the man to tell me. How long have you targeted his businesses?”

"Oh, bloody hell, this one's a flirting bloke..." Corvus hissed again, as the flirting that accompanied the question began in earnest. Handsomeness? Compensation? Face touching? They've only just met-

"Alright, since you're nicely asking, I suppose I'll answer," Corvus began, not sure why this person is simultaneously terrifying and funny. "I've been hitting these 'businesses' for the last five or so years. Because newsflash… drugs are bad for you."

Corvus tried his best to ignore the fact that he was apparently very attractive to the eyes of this… person. Who was the last person who told him that anyway, Mom? That's what moms always say…

Shi’a couldnt resist the giggle that burst forth, but the many voices made it bone chilling to hear.

“Five years…… Five long years. You must be tired. Is it rewarding? To keep the streets of New York drug free. The sad realization is there will always be someone willing to distribute drugs without consequences. It's a pity that money can twist even the greatest of souls.”

Shi’a was tired of the business his father ran. When would the man focus more on his legitimate businesses? The last thing he wanted was to have to visit his father behind bars. Even wealth had its limits. For the last four years Shi’a dedicated his life to creating a clean business for his father in various states across the country, but here in New York his father seemed hell bent on distributing toxins to the citizens of the great state. It saddened him, but he was faithful to his father and would do as he asked. This man could be a saving grace for him. This man could help him, but would he be willing to make a deal with such a dark entity as Shi’a?

“Has there been a decline in drug use since you started your vigilante mission? What is to stop another from taking the Kingpin’s spot when he is gone?”

Shi’a’s flirtatiousness had diminished and his tone was serious. He wanted to know if this man’s efforts were for naught. Have there been any results?

"Look…" Corvus looked away, his tone becoming one of sombreness. "We all dealt with the Blip in our own way, alright? This is how I first dealt with it, keeping my mind off from the fact that everyone I know is dust. Now… well, you… you have a point. But what do you want with me, really?"

“I want you to help me. The Kingpin won’t stop until someone stops him, and I have been in his employ far too long for it to be me. I know there are others like you who want the streets of New York to be a safe place.”

Shi’a paused and sighed.

“I have done so much for him. Killing just so that he would go unchallenged. When I heard that he had a new thorn in his side I figured it would be best for me to investigate instead of him sending someone who would kill you on sight.”

Shi’a stopped circling Corvus and transformed back into his normal form, his beautiful blue eyes piercing Corvus' own. His long hair fluttered in the breeze as he hovered in front of the man still tethered by the spirit shackle.

“Promise me that you will not stop, that you will do everything I can’t to keep this city safe. You give me your word and you are free to go. He will not stop until he is stopped, but when that time comes, promise me you will not kill him.”

"Okay…" Corvus nodded slowly, taking in the sight of this long haired man that looked straight out of one of those Chinese movies about divine, heavenly beings. He had expected something worse the moment that he found out that this person was completely unfazed by a bullet that had enough kinetic energy to blow someone's limbs off, but this was… something.

And this promise… it really was strange, at least for him. This ghostly assassin wants the Kingpin's business to be destroyed? Because he was tired of it? But again, if really was just there to assassinate him… worse things would have happened right now. Corvus is so lucky.

"Alright. I don't really intend to stop," Corvus shrugged. "Not as long as things are as bad as they are. But how can I know that this isn't some… elaborate ruse?"

“Here,” Shi’a said, reaching into the inner folds of his garments and retrieving a card, “this is how you can contact me. Rest assured it is no elaborate ruse. Those are boring and if I wanted you dead you would be dead.”

Shi’a placed the card in Corvus’ front pocket and sighed as he drifted slowly away.

“Just don’t get yourself killed playing vigilante. These roofs are rather slippery,” Shi’a said, as he made a yanking motion with his hand. The spirit shackle broke, releasing Corvus from his restraints and giving him full use of his body. “We will be in touch. After all, your choice of vigilante outfit needs lots of work. Oh and set up a meeting with that friend of yours. The one who blinded the Kingpin’s men. I would definitely like a chat with him.”

Do I look like I want to play with costumes…?

Corvus sighed, looking down on the rooftop that he was standing on before looking back at Shi'a. "Well, if you want to meet Quasar… that guy comes and goes as he pleases. If you can count an interstellar star ghost as a guy, that is. He could be nearby. Or far away. I just never know when he's around."

He then looked away, a smirk slightly on his face. "You're the only one who ever complimented my face. That… is funny."

“Fabulous, then it’s settled. The next time you encounter him, let him know of my request and we can go from there,” Shi’a said, “and you are handsome, just own it more, no one can deny it. Judging from your outfit, I can have something tailored in no time.”

Shi’a’s bubbly personality was showing and he quickly reeled it in before throwing an adorable wave at Corvus before being consumed by the shadows.

"Huh," Corvus shrugged to himself just as the cawing of his crow filled his ears. "That was weird. Well, cheerio, I guess…"

[Mintz]

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Location: Streets of Queens, Outside Joey Doug(h)'s Pizza (H)ole

Interactions: Jackpot @Crimson Flame, Picture Perfect @Fading Memory, The Wanderer @The Man Emperor

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...Okay, truth be told, Jenna wasn't very good at this part of the job. While she tried to focus herself, darting her gaze around the busy streets for signs of disturbance, it always found itself carried off by something else going on; the honk of traffic, the yelling of passersby, the deafening scream of some guy....

Wait, that one was at her!

Blinking a few times and re-adjusting herself to a semblance of concentration, she turned her gaze towards the redhead calling her out. Hm...Something about the guy was vaguely familiar, but she couldn't put her finger on it, and didn't feel like diverting any more of her waning attention span towards that thought.

"Offering a bite? Well, that's pretty tempting and all, but," She taps a finger towards her mouthpiece, which was distorting her voice to a small degree; enough to make it unrecognizable to Jenna Beltran's, but not much more. "This thing's a pain in the butt to get on and off! So, uh, no thanks. Although...."

The air crackled in anticipation as within a blink of an eye, Hi-Volt had darted from the rooftops to side-by-side with the influencer hero, seemingly almost teleporting from place to place as she investigated him. "Do I know you from somewhere? Cause, it's gonna really, really bother me until I figure it out!"

In spite of that claim, Hi-Volt seemed to give up on that topic as quickly as she brought it up. "Anyways! Seen anything around lately? Usually the thugs of New York are a bit more active than this! Maybe they're on a hot cocoa break?...Do bad guys get breaks?"

It was only then she realized there was another person, and only now that she recalled that this ginger stud here had called out to someone else. "Oh! Also, hi over there!" She waved to him, her big grin unseen underneath her mouthpiece. Granted, it could barely be called a wave, since it was more like a blur of motion with a few sparks coming off. Hi-Volt shook her hand a bit, a bit disgruntled. "Ugh! C'mon! Haven't even started yet, don't give me trouble already...."

After that, she snapped back to attention again, aware that she was talking to her own hand. "....Uh, soo, anyhoo, yeah! Nothin' suspicious been going on or anything?" She said, a bit of nervous laughter escaping her. You'd think after half a year she'd have a better grasp on these things....

However, she was caught off guard one more time as another voice piped up behind her. That person wasn't there before, right? Hm...Well, no use thinking about it. "Hi! Oh, us? I mean...." Underneath the visor of her helm, she looked puzzlingly at the two dudes. Now she really felt out of the loop. But, not really understanding the situation here, she just shrugged. "Not really. I think? Is this," She motioned around to the two of them and herself. "a thing going on? Er, well, anyways, I was probably gonna be on my way soonish..."

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Location: Streets of Brooklyn

Interactions: Moonjumper @RogueFox, Dani @DDVicky

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Katiya couldn't help but roll her eyes. A light landing? She was nearly 500 lbs. (and thankfully, most of it being muscle), light wasn't even in her dictionary. However, before she could make a comment, she was caught off-guard by the arrival of a small girl (though in fairness, everyone's small to her), couldn't be older than 12, who burst into questions that sent Kat's head reeling as she weakly kept attempting to interject.

"Ah...Oh...Um..."

She gave up on that pretty quick, letting the little one get everything out instead. And what was that bit about Captain America? Honestly, she caught next to nothing of what the small girl let spew, though her brain was trying to churn through the mess of words...Slowly. Thankfully, her partner picked up her slack on this regard, to which the towering red-haired woman gave a nod. "Yes, hero is bit of stretch. Just doing good, da? But yes, she is right. Busy night ahead. Stay safe." With that, Katiya gave a small smile and a wave from one of her lower hands before turning to walk with Moonjumper.

Though pretty soon after walking off, Kat gave a groan. You know how I feel about the...The, uh...Prozviste. Hero name." The topic quickly turned to the twins they had just encountered, to which she was surprised by something Sadie said. "The big sister has powers? Missed that, the small one spoke very fast...Hopefully she is using them otvetstvenno.

However, even that topic was abruptly ended by an impromptu robbery, complete with a grocery bag of cash. Wow. Just...Wow. Katiya almost wanted to laugh at the comedy of that situation, if it were not for how real the danger was for the citizens milling about, being shoved to the ground as these would-be crooks make a desperate sprint for escape. Though, when Moonjumper floated next to her and gave the play-by-play, she couldn't suppress a snort. "We have done this for years, no? I know how this works."

With one hand, she scooped up the now-weightless mutant. She wasn't a good judge of angles or the lot, but luckily, practice makes perfect. Quickly judging the distance against her own strength, Katiya sent her unhindered roommate elegantly hurtling through the air. If her aim was on point, she'd be able to either intercept the two goons by landing in front of them and hanging on for Katiya's own approach, or directly landing on them if she felt confident in handling it herself. Of course, Kat expected the latter; she knew how capable Sadie was...But it didn't serve to throw caution to the wind. There wasn't exactly a direct path to the thugs, not without flooring some innocents. Not ideal. So, the next best thing....

Taking up position, Katiya leaped up to the nearest building, scaling the side of it with her brute strength, nails digging into brick and mortar, as she began to leap from one building to the next, like an urban spider monkey. It wouldn't take her long to catch up, but truth be told, by the time she did, she fully expected the situation to be resolved. But hey, she could lend a hand in getting them restrained for the police, at the bare minimum.

[Th3King0fChaos]

Location: Olive Garden
Interaction: Raphael @ThisIsFine

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When they entered the Olive garden, Chris immediately noticed that Raph's social skills were still developing. The mere looks from others seemed to have even made Raph nervous, so Chris decided to have his back facing the majority of the restaurant to allow for Raph to keep watch of the other patrons while in the corner of the place. Maybe to allow for a much easier time to steel himself for when the waiter…Ooph, seems like even them coming over freaks him out. Chris has his work cut out for him, and it seems like he knows it, but at least he can order for himself, so it's getting better. Chris remembers when he had to order for Raph when they first started doing this, now he can at least voice what he wants.

Chris ordered the endless pasta bowl as well, he was normally a very big eater especially before something like this. Sometimes stakeouts can take hours, or they could do lots of physical labor before any actual fighting. But unlike his companion, he also ordered many smaller things as well, side dishes of different kinds of pasta not listed with the endless pasta, appetizers, and meats. Chris was a man who loved his meat, so anytime he saw something interesting he'd order it, and if he couldn't finish the food he can just give it to Raph, he can probably finish it with ease.

After a bit of eating on both of their sides, Raph seemed to have finally spoken up. He had information about another base has been discovered. The thing that interested Chris was the fact that a new angel was there. Chris let out a little laugh as he said, "Haha, well that's pretty interesting. I found some information as well". Chris adjusted himself and leaned forward as he then continued, "Apparently some guy has been taking notice of some strange dealings happening in a certain part of town. He followed them and found something interesting...". Chris went into his jacket and started pulling out documents with pictures and information on different people as he hands them to Raph. Each of them being either affiliated with High Order or doing business with them inadvertently. Within these files are also pictures of a warehouse and images of crates, shipping containers, and people handling briefcases.

Chris makes note of a picture specifically with people passing off a briefcase that seems to have vials in it as he begins to speak again, "Those are Mutant Growth Hormones, and that was specifically what the guy I got this from wanted to pass off. It seems they have been cycling out of this certain little area for some time, however, there were also some interesting things found there as well. That same area has been getting strange shipments of things, specifically, medical supplies and liquid nutrition and supplements. We could be dealing with a small laboratory where they are pumping this stuff out". Chris himself wasn't 100% sure of this information, after all, he didn't know the person who supplied his own informants of this, and none of them were able to confirm who he was other than being a younger adult male based on his voice and body; however, if Raph had also gotten information of an angel and if they are in a similar place, that might mean they are using the angel to kidnap mutants to create MGH, or worst.

Chris didn't want to bring that up, after all, this could be just some information that is either bogus or about a different place altogether, either way, they had info at least. Chris continued with the conversation, "Well, either way, we have some places to go, let's hit up the base you found first. After all, if the rumors of an angel being there is true, we should go and free them; can't let them do what they wish to them". Chris wanted to keep a positive outlook and tone of the situation, one of them had to, Raph wasn't good at hiding his emotions so it was easy to see that Raph was scared to meet another angel. Chris was also worried, what if they were totally indoctrinated, that would be hard for Raph to handle mentally, but the thing that worried him more was what if they were like Raph. Chris just let out a sigh as he asked for the check, they wouldn't be here for a bit longer, after all, the night was young and they could always get food while on the move.

[ThisIsFine]

Raphael - Location: Olive Garden - Tags: Chris

Raph nodded in agreement with Chris, but didn't say anything else. He did, however, put away three more pasta bowls. Fortunately, his anxiety about what they may find tonight didn't effect his appetite.

As they finished up and headed back out into the snow, Raph couldn't help but get the nervous excitement he did before a raid. He'd needed to let off some steam for a while now, and what better way than pulverizing some High Order assholes?

He didn't exactly have an address for this base. He'd been given landmarks and had to figure it out from there. Raph had done his sleuthing ahead of time and was pretty sure he had the building scoped out. The old, shut down medical facility screamed "villain lair". A bright new sign outside promised a walk-in clinic that would never open. It was just a cover for shipments coming and going. Construction workers mulled about outside, smoking and chatting. These workers were sure packing heat for their blue-collar job. Raph could make out the outlines of firearms under their orange vests.

He'd taken to a roof nearby to get a bird's eye view on the situation. Being up higher just felt safer somehow. He fiddled with the talkie Chris had given him until he made up his mind to move.

"There's a truck coming in to drop off supplies. We could slip in through the loading bay doors and drop the witnesses." Raph wasn't much of a "plan" guy. Most of his "plans" consisted charging in, guns blazing. Except he didn't even have any guns.

Location: - Pondering at the park Tags: Open

The snow had picked up. It fluttered and fell through Quasar as he silently drifted over the paved walking path. The flurries muted the air around him like a natural radar chaff and made the night eerily silent. The ambiance speakers hiden in the bushes played soft, gentle Christmas instrumental left over from the holiday. The glittering lights danced off the fresh snow.

Earth sure was beautiful sometimes. Quasar had never found a planet quite so charming. Perhaps that was why he didn't mind being trapped here. Despite the crime, the suffering, and the war and inequality, humans managed to create so many wonderful things.

Quasar paused to examine a huddled form on a bench. An unfortunate homeless fellow under a snow covered blanket. It struck pity into his metaphorical heart.

"Sir, perhaps you should find better cover tonight. This weather isn't safe for a furless mammal."

After he received no response, Quasar formed a small, bright light on his hand and held it in front of the gentleman's face. He was met by a blank, stony stare, unreactive pupils, and a vomit encrusted chin. This man was dead. Probably from a drug overdose. The darkest corners of mankind had struck yet again and taken another life with it.

Quasar straightened up and continued to stare at the unfortunate sight. He wasn't quite sure what to do. He felt bad leaving this poor human's remains here, but there really wasn't much he could do for him now.

[Crimson Flame]

Location: Queens, Joey Doug(h)'s Pizza (H)ole)
Interactions: Picture Perfect @Fading Memory Hi-Volt @Mintz Wanderer @The Man Emperor

MJ was just about to put his phone down, when he heard a familiar sounding “Hoo boy-- Didja see that, holmes? I think we've got another live one on the streets tonight.” MJ’s went wide. That was Picture Perfect. This was the opportunity of a lifetime! He switched his phone to video mode, and went after him. PP has a ton of followers. Whatever happens next was bound to get him some views.

He called out to and offered pizza to a lightning fast green haired superhero that MJ was entirely familiar, but her powers looked awesome! Apparently the superheroes knew each other… MJ wished he could be a part of that group. Maybe one day, they would accept Jackpot… Probably not…

For now though there were other things to deal with. “Awesome! An encounter with actual superheroes. My followers will absolutely flip when I post this.” He turned his phone camera back to Picture Perfect. “Yo! PP! Name’s MJ. I’m a bit of an influencer myself. By far not as many followers as you, but I’m getting there. If you’re ever up to do a collab sometime, hit me up! I’m sure we can work something out.” He then turned his camera back to Hi-Volt. “You too. I don’t know how big you are on the whole social media scene, but you got cool powers, and people dig that.”

There was another man that seemed to come out of nowhere, asking if he was interrupting anything. “Not really, unless you’re a superhero too. Then this really turning out to be a good day for me.”

[The Man Emperor]

---

---

Konstantin Salazar
The Wanderer

Interaction: Jackpot, Picture Perfect, High Volt

---

---

Konstantin squinted at the assembled heroes, taking note of who they were as well as their respective body languages. It seemed that they were having an impromptu gathering in front of this pizzeria, perhaps because superheroes really had a thing for pizza, or someone had called up a meeting for one reason or another. That latter option seemed to be rather unlikely though, as none of them seemed particularly interested in sticking around. Hi-Volt looked a bit awkwardly at him, straight up telling him that she's just gonna go. Or something to that effect.

"Oh, okay. That's fine," Konstantin said to her, tipping his hat to the other hero, if he could really be called one as well. "We all have a duty to fulfill, patrols to do. I for one, however, need to hear some gossip over a slice of pizza and a cup of tea."

He turned towards Jackpot, looking at him from head to toe. Konstantin took note of the fact that both Jackpot and Picture Perfect were also social media influencers on top of being superheroes… he found that a bit funny, honestly.

There was another man that seemed to come out of nowhere, asking if he was interrupting anything. “Not really, unless you’re a superhero too. Then this really turning out to be a good day for me.”

"Yes," Konstantin replied. "That I am… you're Jackpot, aren't you?"

He held out his hand, his cerulean eyes looking right into the other hero's soul. "I'm Wanderer. I make portals like the local wizard, Doctor Strange, though we're quite different. Anyway, we got any bad guy dens to hit, or are we merely relaxing as of now?"

[ThisIsFine]

And

Wraith

After his fight with ArcLight, Shi'a felt strange. For the first time in his life he'd let his target live. For the first time in his life he had disobeyed a direct order from his father, and it felt strange. He was conflicted. How many more lives would it take for his father to be happy? Shi'a wondered what else he could do to put a stop to it all. He wanted his father to stop, but he didn't want to be the one to stop him. Guilt welled up inside of him as he found himself strolling through the park. He floated, in his mortal shell, and humans gasped as they watched him for a brief moment before scurrying away. He was so absentminded that he hadn't realized what he was doing. He felt a sudden tug in his being and his eyes wandered over to a bench where a man was huddle on and what looked to be a galaxy in humanoid form. Shi'a eyes took in the sight as he hovered closer.

"Have you murdered him?" Shi'a asked, quite intrigued by whatever the being was that had the power to form light in its hands. "That's quite a nice trick you have there."

"Hm?" Quasar's attention was pulled from the frozen face of the man. He had been so caught up in his pity and mourning of this stranger that he hadn't even noticed the odd being approaching him. Not that it mattered much; being effectively indestructible gave him quite a bit of leeway for sloppiness.

"Oh, no, I don't believe I'm quite capable of such," Quasar's form shifted to observe his new company. He nodded at the compliment. "Thank you. Perhaps you could help me find this gentleman a more respectful end. It's such a shame to see a human life wasted like this."

Quasar gave off the energy of someone who had found a dead turtle along the highway. This deceased human was completely inconsequential to him, and yet, he couldn't help but wish he could have done something. He, an infinitely greater and more powerful being, felt as though somehow, the shortcomings of this world were his own to bear as well. After all, what chance had this poor fellow had against such a cruel and unforgiving existence?

"Such a shame. You found him like this."

Shi'a hovered over to the man and examined him. Needle marks trailed along the man's arms. His bear was crusted with bile and his eyes, though lifeless, held a pain within them, a pain that the man had finally escaped. Shi'a reached out and moved a stray hair from the man's face. He didn't know this man, but he was somehow curious as to the cause of his death even though in the back of his mind he felt he knew the answer to his question. The needle marks alone told the story.

"How do you presume he died?"

"Admittedly, my knowledge is limited on the subject," Quasar's voice crackled, "But it appears to be some sort of drug overdose. It's becoming increasingly common among the impoverished. The siren call of a few moments of bliss becomes too loud when everything else around you is miserable."

For a galaxy spectral form, Quasar was surprisingly expressive. Despite his face consisting only of two brightly glowing eyes, his shoulders slumped in a sad sort of way, and his head tilted to the side as if he was trying his best to understand. Death wasn't something he ever had to fear, but he knew how significant it was to mortals.

"Perhaps there is someone we can call? A non-emergency line that can come to collect him?"

Shi'a took a moment to consider Quasar's words and sighed. This was the world he lived in, the world he protected with every fiber of his being. He enforced his father's ways and this was the payout for what he did. This man, who probably had a family, had resorted to drugs to ease whatever demons he was rustling with. It was sad to behold and Shi'a reached into his pocket to dial 911. He gave them the information they asked and slid the phone back into his pocket before gazing at Quasar.

"You're connection with humans is quite fascinating, but I know you are not of this realm. Your form is that of a ghast, a spirit, and I bet if it..." Shi'a hovered over to Quasar and reached out his hand only for it to phase into Quasar before he pulled it back. His hand was frozen. "As I thought. We aren't that different you and I, but tell me what is your name?"

His hand flexed and the ice cracked around his hand, shattering to the ground as he looked at it. He couldn't remember the last time he felt pain of any kind. Even now, he wondered what it felt like to bleed, to hear death's voice in one's ear.

While his new companion used the phone, Quasar hung back at a safe distance so as to not disturb the electronic during the call. Once he was finished, the space specter slowly drifted back over. He blinked as the man spoke and then ran a hand through his form. It wasn't advisable to do so, but clearly this fellow was unbothered. He didn't seem quite human. Not in the way that Quasar's super powered friends didn't seem human. This one seemed nonhuman in a more...sideways sort of way.

"I am Quasar," He said in a more chipper tone, "But before I came to Earth, I had no name. There is no word in any human language for entities such as I, as they are exceptionally uncommon. A good friend of mine, Dr. Reed Richards, has informed me that my presence on Earth is the first contact of the sort. You also seem to be not of this world, but not from outer space, I gather?"

His name is Quasar. Shi'a closed his eyes for a moment. How interesting that he would run into the very individual he wanted to speak to. He tilted his head. Quasar was asking him a question, but also giving him information. His assumptions were true in that Quasar was not of this world. That was something they shared. Shi'a was not of this realm. His existence was on going, never ending, much like Quasar.

"You are correct in your observation Quasar. My name is Shi'a. I ran into one of your colleagues earlier, a man known as ArcLight. He's a rather handsome man, but I digress. He put up quite the fight too; however, it seems as though I've found my true target."

Shi'a smiled whimsically at Quasar.

"Tell me, how did you come to be on this blue orb we call Earth? Why have you been targetting the KingPin's warehouses?"

Quasar tilted his head again as he blinked at the man. "If you aim to hurt me, then I'm afraid you will be disappointed. It is not possible."

He turned back to look at the man on the bench. Flashing lights and sirens were approaching from the distance. Soon, this area would be flooded with EMTs and police investigators.

"I came to Earth to stop a great injustice from happening. I failed. Now, I suppose I just seek to stop slightly smaller injustices. If the Kingpin and others like him didn't poison these streets, then people like this poor man might have had a fighting chance. Instead, humans like the Kingpin profit off of the suffering, grief, and poverty that they themselves take part in creating. I may not technically have a heart or a soul, but even I can see how that is wrong."

Quasar turned back to look at Shi'a. Through his swirling form, the red and blue lights of a squad car appeared around the corner.

"Relax, I wouldn't attack you for you've given me no reason to," Shi'a said as he moved closer to Quasar noticing the red and blue lights of the squad car. Their conversation would soon end, but he wanted to make sure it wasn't the last time they would see one another. There weren't many if any at all of their kind or rather anyone who understood him the way Quasar could.

"This man will be given a proper burial, I will make sure of it," Shi'a said.

He had attempted to block out the harm that his father was causing. Even if his hands were directly involved with distribution, he was the head of it and could stop it, but the money was too much of a driving force for the man. Shi'a wanted there to be better options than delivering poison to the people of the world. He had managed to educate so many on various business ventures, and had grown his father's business in a legitimate way, but the drugs had to stop. Shi'a looked down at the results of of the poison that coursed through the streets, the poison his father and his men distributed.

"The drugs have to be stopped, but I cannot do this alone. I can't face him. Quasar, it is beings like you and Arclight that will clean the streets, not me. How can I go against the man who raised me and protected me? I fear I don't have the strength to do it."

Quasar knew they didn't have much longer for this meeting. "I understand that the relationship between parent and child can be complicated. I don't have parents myself, so it's a hard concept for me to grasp, but I can respect it."

He paused.

"We should probably leave. But I will certainly be in touch if you really want to do what you say. Unfortunately, I am unable to carry a cellular device, so I will have to find you later. So long, Mr. Shi'a."

With that, the entity disappeared. It would seem as though he merely vanished. In reality, he had fled at the speed of light.

Shi'a closed his eyes when Quasar left. The police arrived shortly after, but Shi'a managed to leave before they noticed him. He hovered in the background within the shadow of a tree wondering what it must feel like to not have someone come back. The man's family would suffer, it was a thought that plagued Shi'a and it was because of drugs.

"One day, things will go back to how they were before you became the KingPin father. One day."

[Fading Memory]

PICTURE PERFECT

IN

"When The Bell Rings!"

FEATURING
Hi-Volt, Wanderer, and Jackpot

---

O'Toole was an animated figure. His movements almost seemed cartoonish in their exaggerations for the brief period of time his senses were assaulted by different introductions, conversational starters, segues, and deliberations. Starting with Hi-Volt's sudden and lightning-quick appearance at his side (and the resultant jumping) and ending with the guffawing at Konstantin's sudden and spontaneous portal-tastic appearance... Sullivan was impressively quick to take it all in stride, truth be told.

"Ah, the ol' face-mask-modulator-thing-of-privacy. Mad respect, miss, going for a classic style. There's charm to the whole 'mysterious woman' thing, if I may say so myself."

His words were accompanied by a sly wink, but it was not a thing he lingered on. Hi-Volt's own conversational progress had already blown by his passing remark anyway, and he wasn't one to hold things up at the starting line. Her electrical sparkings were particularly eye-catching to his current visual settings- her sparks leaving neon trails as she moved and generally making her stand out even more than she already did.

Blinking several times as his mental backburner processed Hi-Volt's dialogue torrent, his gaze swept to MJ and he hit the man with a million dollar smile as he shifted the pizza box in hand to show off the Joey Dough's Logo to the outheld recording phone.

"MJ, that's an easy name. Two whole letters and a grade A haircut to boot, that's the way to do it." He enthusiastically proffered in a conversational manner. Then, guiding MJ's camera in an organic manner by swaying the pizza box around to gesture about at the others around him...

"I'm Picture Perfect, this is Wanderer, and the Supe in the Suit seems to be new on the block, so keep your eye out for the electric blur moving through your neighborhood these days!" He declared this in a comfortable stage-voice for the sake of MJ's camera, before clearing his throat. He had no idea how to handle Konstantin mentally at the moment and decided he didn't need to resolve that magical comprehension yet. He was good at delegating troublesome thoughts to later. He opened his mouth to speak- actually being a source replete with knowledge on the goings-on in the city- but before he could make a sound...

BRRRRT! VVVRRRBRRRRTTTTT!

A series of warning klaxons sounded from his person in a staccato pitch, causing him to sober up visibly from his excitement and check his watch. In fact, anyone carrying a cellphone was experiencing the same phenomenon. After a brief moment of confusion, the cause was clear and understood by all;

AMBER Alert!
New York, NY Amber Alert: 2001 Black Nissan Maxima
Last Seen outside Crocheron Park, Queens!

This drew a severe frown from Sullivan, whose body went still- briefly locking the three heroes around him in place before he shifted and returned their independent motion to them. It was an unintended flex of the power; the Alert had clearly evoked some emotional response from him.

"Well..."

He rolled his neck. There was an audible 'pop' as his joint cracked and relieved some rapidly built tension.

"City never sleeps. Guess this answers your question, Zippy; no, the baddies don't take breaks."

Rapidly wolfing down another slice of his pizza, the red haired man swiftly discarded the box upon conclusion of his meal and pulled his phone out. Wiping his hands on his pants, he began to tap away.

"I've got a tip alert system in place for situations like this, folks'll be sending me all sorts of info on black sedans now." There were definite perks to being as public and popular as Picture Perfect currently was, it'd seem. "But I'll be honest, it could be a goose chase with my network. Crocheron's on the other side of Queens, by Saint Mary's. I swear if these goons grabbed some sick kid..."

Each of the three people around him suddenly received Airdrop-equivalent contact information for Picture Perfect.

"Just in case we get split, I've sent you guys my contact info."

Honestly, MJ was mostly in the right place at the right time it seemed. Lucky day.

[The Man Emperor]

---

---

Konstantin Salazar
The Wanderer

Interaction: Jackpot, Picture Perfect, High Volt

---

---

"I've got a tip alert system in place for situations like this, folks'll be sending me all sorts of info on black sedans now." There were definite perks to being as public and popular as Picture Perfect currently was, it'd seem. "But I'll be honest, it could be a goose chase with my network. Crocheron's on the other side of Queens, by Saint Mary's. I swear if these goons grabbed some sick kid..."

Each of the three people around him suddenly received Airdrop-equivalent contact information for Picture Perfect.

"Just in case we get split, I've sent you guys my contact info."

"We don't need to split, guys." Konstantin held out his hand, smirking towards the exasperated Picture Perfect at the prospect of having to cross all the way to the other side of Queens. He knew just how tiring it could be to try to weave through all the pedestrians, traffic, and desolate alleys that would undoubtedly be in the way. And he just had the trick. Konstantin knew a lot of places in the city well enough to open portals to them, especially the ones that were open to the public. Crocheron Park was one of these places, but that wouldn't be enough to simply bring them right in front of the black sedan that they were looking for.

"My brother Mariano uses Crocheron Park to walk his dog, and I've been there a few times to give my cats a look at the sun and grass," Konstantin explained. "I could bring us there through a portal, but bear in mind that you might come out a little dizzy if you're not used to crossing dimensions."

Wanderer's eyes glowed an iridescent purple as he began channeling the magic. "So? Taxi, hitch a ride with lightning lady, or portal?"

[Mintz]

---

---

Location: Streets of Queens, Outside Joey Doug(h)'s Pizza (H)ole

Interactions: Jackpot @Crimson Flame, Picture Perfect @Fading Memory, The Wanderer @The Man Emperor

---

---

Hold the phone. Literally, apparently, with this pair in front of Hi-Volt; this guy was a hero? She found herself carefully eyeing O'Toole, as if he'd magically start sparkling or something. He wasn't wearing a costume, and apparently his identity was just out in the open...Talk about reckless! Though maybe she wasn't one to talk, given how she went about things. Still, she was struggling to see this guy as any kind of supe. Just a admittedly handsome vlog-guy of sorts. And she only got more confused with how he responded to her comment of the mask plate. "Oh, well, I mean, I guess it's a bit mysterious? But it's more about the priv-" It was only partway through her lightning-fast mind caught up to itself, catching his sly wink and the tone of his voice. It was a compliment. "Oh! Er, I mean, thanks. It is pretty cool, huh?" She couldn't help but give an awkward chuckle. Talk about embarrassing...

She found her attention snapped away when one of the other dudes here began speaking to her. "Huh? Oh, no, I'm not super big on media! Besides, when I try to use a phone, it more often than not..." Punctuating her point, she made a little shower of sparks from the palm of her hands. "But hey, if people dig me, that's cool!"

However, with that, Hi-Volt had intended to head off until the guy who seemingly materialized spoke up again...And pointed out the other social media guy was some kinda supe as well! Immediately she whipped her head back towards the three men, specifically the one pointed out as Jackpot. Yeah...Definitely looks like an average civilian. Maybe a bit tired, probably from a bad shift...They were a freaking hero?! She found herself stepping back into the conversation just as quickly as she had decided to leave.

"So, waitwaitwait, hang up a sec; you're telling me a buncha heroes coincidentally met at some random pizza place? That's... Her attention span didn't last long enough once the topic of portals came into play. Almost immediately, she was face-to-face with Konstatin, eyes aglow underneath her visor. "Portals?! Really?! Oooh, that's amazing! Please show me! I'd really love to see it in action!" Her unconscious mind had already whipped out a sort of small journal; a bit old-school given the times, but also given her interactions with technology, it was understandable. In it, she documented nearly anything she could find out about her own power...And fully intended to do the same when she saw this one in action.

Of course, though, something new came up to distract her; in this case, Picture Perfect making some impromptu publicity. Hearing herself get called out, she turned, and unsure of what exactly to do, just gave an awkward wave. However, what really caught her off-guard was when a blaring noise came from O'Toole out of nowhere. Her first instinct was to dart away, and she certainly tried, which is how she noticed that for that brief moment....Her body didn't respond to her. This brief moment of her puzzling at this reaction was broken as PP dropped his unintended flex of power, and Hi-Volt, having been unwittingly caught in the middle of her action, tripped to the floor. Ouch...

She recovered quickly though, brushing herself off before her attention turned to O'Toole once more, as he gave the 'deets. "Wow, having something like that sounds really convenient. Er, also..." She patted the sides of her pants. "Don't have my phone on me! Sorry!"

Konstantin soon took charge, making the statement that they didn't have to split off; made sense, of course. If he could create portals, then why would they waste time with any other form of travel? Then he brought up the potential for some nausea and dizziness, two things that didn't go well with her...Hi-Volt sighed sadly. "As cool as it'd be to travel by portal, I think I'm better off making it my own way. Don't wanna get all dazed and, like, crash into a wall or something. Heh..."

When he brought up the possibility of Picture Perfect traveling with her, she couldn't help but grin, turning towards the influencer on a dime. "He's got a point! I'm sure portals are a bit more instantaneous than my form of travel, which I'd judge is..." For a few seconds, you could see the girl muttering to herself at high-speeds, her head darting to and fro as she mentally processed her own travel time. "Roughly three minutes to get to Crocheron! But if ya came with me, you'd have a topside view from the rooftops, and when we spot 'em, I'll getcha close in no time flat!"

She certainly seemed eager, now that some action was involved, nonchalantly putting a hand to one of the strange devices cuffing her wrists, a trail of electric charge going from it into her. Had to get juiced up before a proper fight, after all! Though, at the last moment, Jenna seemed to recall something. "....Omigosh! I just realized I haven't even said my name! Ugh!" She can't help but facepalm, realizing she forgot such a simple thing. However, she recovered quick as always, giving a big ol' thumbs up and a barely visible wink from under her visor. "Name's Hi-Volt, and I'll make sure this little trip is positively electric!"

[Crimson Flame]

Location: Queens, Joey Doug(h)'s Pizza (H)ole)
Interactions: Picture Perfect @Fading Memory Hi-Volt @Mintz Wanderer @The Man Emperor

MJ's eyes went wide. How did this guy know MJ's secret identity? He never posted anything about his nightly shenanigans online. How the hell did this random guy know that private information? Damage control needed to be done. Now. MJ tried to play it cool. "Heh, I don't know who this Jackpot person is. You must have me confused with some other guy? I'm just an aspiring actor. Nothing special about me at all." MJ was relieved he wasn't streaming right now, and he could edit this awkward situation out.

MJ was relieved that the other heroes didn't catch on. The other girl was distracted by mystery man's powers, and PP was busy being PP... He changed the subject quickly, and replied to Picture Perfect. "Exactly, it's short and easy to remember. Although, if I ever make it as an actor, I might try to make Matthew James Watson a thing, but we'll see."

Then an Amber Alert went out. Apparently a car had been stolen, and it was time for the heroes to spring into action. MJ was also sent PP's contact information straight to his phone. This will come in handy later. "I'll go by portal. I think you have your hands full with PP. Wow, a real superhero fight! My viewers will get a kick out of this one!"

Of course, MJ had ulterior motives for travelling with the man called Wanderer. He needed to have a few words with him. As soon as PP and HI volt left, MJ shut off the camera, and had some very stern words for Wanderer. "Look, I don't know who you are, or how you know my secret, but my nightly activities are my business. If anybody finds out about this, my career is ruined, and Jackpot is going to be coming for you. Got it?" He punched the palm of his hand with his other fist.

[Fading Memory]

It took O'Toole approximately zero seconds to consider his options. Instantaneous transmission versus high speed rooftop leaping action via a genuine masked hero's assistance? Is that even a debate? Not for the henna haired harridan, it isn't; he hadn't had a good adrenaline surge since the shenanigans that went down at lunch today, and this was also an opportunity to get to know the zippy lady. Or so he thought.

"A'ight, not even a debate, see you in three minutes Wanderer." He gave the Magician a mock salute before turning towards Hi-Volt and extending a hand to her- Only to suddenly disappear in a blur of movement.

He thought he'd have a chance to talk. Well did he know the lesson that sudden acceleration is utter mayhem to the unprepared mind and stomach- but little did he comprehend her sheer speed when his decision was made.

---

Jackpot and Wanderer

Their moment of time together outside Joey Doug(h)'s Pizza (H)ole extends into a moment of time suddenly in the midst of Crocheron Park, Wanderer's portal depositing them instantaneously beside a cozy park bench overlooking Little Neck Bay, on the inward side of the cross island parkway. Traffic is a deadlock, as it always is and always will be, but at the same time whenever one looks away they find themselves suddenly faced with a new wall of cars. New York, what do you want?

The atmosphere of the park is tense; the air feels heavy and dense; the night time clouds continue their downfall of snow, layering the environment in a strange silence. It wasn't the silence of lack of sound; it was the all-encompassing silence of dulled noise and nefarious deeds, the silence pervasive in places where sinister tasks were completed, the crushing silence of snow falling over the world.

And yet there was noise; night time life of the park. The distant lights of Saint Mary's Children's Hospital loomed importantly; almost knowingly. The noise manifested into sound, into language, into the frantic calls of concerned people. Despite their relative isolation and conversational privacy, the park was alive with the footfalls and flashlights of searching foot patrolmen of the NYPD- and yet, somehow even more significantly, an intensely frazzled and frizzy haired middle aged woman wearing nurse's scrubs and pushing around an empty wheelchair somehow instills itself with a dreadful purpose in their minds. The perceptions of these superheroes was not enhanced in any way; heroes just know what they're looking for.

A grizzled man, mustachioed and wearing a longer detective's coat than the other officers, seemed to be deep in conversation with the woman and taking notes in an oldschool handheld notepad, his pen falling and rising as if conducting the chaotic, terrifying, silence of the night as he took her statements.

By the time Wanderer and Jackpot's conversation wanes and privacy is discarded, their approach would herald them with overheard clues;

"...It was the strangest thing, almost like something out of a movie- I can't believe it happened like that! I was bringing Gabriel out, she wanted to see the snow and be in the park, it's the least I could do for her on a night like tonight. Her treatment is painful, and I'm really all she has..."

"Ma'am, keep to the relevant facts." The man guided her back.

"Sorry, sorry, I just get so worked up thinking about-"

His hand came out and silenced her with a grasp to her shoulder, his greying mustache rising and falling with the nod of his head.

"I understand. This is difficult. We're searching for the vehicle now; let me run it back from the top. You came out here with the girl, bringing her out here just to see the snow and be in it. She was wheelchair bound. You're her designated caretaker at the hospital. She asked you to let her rest by the river and go get her a hot dog, and when you turned back you saw her being carried into a car."

The woman nods, her hands clasping over her mouth as she looks increasingly distraught.

"The men- there were two men. They were wearing fine suits, nice suits, pinstripe things. Almost like they stepped out of a mobster movie."

The cop looks, frankly, astounded at that detail and makes a note.

---

Hi-Volt's movement was like jumping out of an airplane and into a high wind atmospheric event. At least, that was the closest memory of relevance that her dashing pace carried O'Toole's mind. The wind tearing at his skin, his eyes watering at the blur of colors and the speed assaulting his senses, the sudden jerk of electrical energy that pulsed through him- through Hi-Volt. It was enough to make him briefly hysterical;

"WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO-"

Many a pedestrian was stunned to hear this sound at this time of year; at the speeds Hi-Volt and Picture Perfect were moving, his rallying cry of adrenaline sounded more like the buzz of a mosquito than anything. A mosquito that plagued a hundred people in the span of a minute, the electrical surge of Hi-Volt's jumps carrying them across rooftops and ever towards Crocheron Park.

Soon, however, they come to a startling halt. Picture Perfect's body tensing into stillness in the blink of an eye- the exact blink, mind you, that met the pause of Hi-Volt's movements after a jump planted them onto a rooftop overlooking Crocheron Park.

Soon his hand wriggled. His fingers separating themselves from Hi-Volt's grip. Then his arm moved, allowing her arm freedom.

Then he collapsed, his grip dissipating from her entirely as he dropped to his knees, gasping for breath on the edge of the rooftop.

Then his lunch was coming up- No, wait, that was dinner. New York Streets are familiar with this phenomenon; just not the height from which the vomit occurred. He was a seasoned thrill-seeker, however, and somehow he made retching seem almost dignified as he brushed his mouth off and suddenly slammed his face into a small snow-pile nearby, scrubbing at himself frantically before surging back to his feet.

"WHOOOOOOOOOOOO YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH--"

His laughter rolled out as he turned back to Hi-Volt.

"Now THAT is travelling in style!"

Nothing can keep this man down for long, his personality almost entirely summarized by the words 'overbearing' and 'Endless'.

From this vantage point, and to Hi-Volt's particularly fast mind specifically, the movements of the flashlights down in the park were clear and easy patterns to discern. Standard patrol routes, but hastily put together and with gaps. Gaps her mind could discern easily; places of shadow lingering in the silence of the snow, filled with potential dread purpose, but also potentially red herrings. The car was the defining clue they had, after all, and this area was where it was last seen.

A quick survey of the area would return that the traffic was slow- but as in all things, with an ebbing and flowing pattern. There was, realistically, only a small area such a car could have gotten in the few minutes since the alert was first declared. An area she could quickly formulate. An area that comprised only the few blocks around Crocheron, on the Queens side of the Parkway.

[ThisIsFine]

Archangel and Paladin, The Raid

Once the pair of intrepid vigilantes had made their way over to the location Raphael had scouted out, Chris had taken noticed of the roads leading towards it. He gave a mental sigh as he found that the information that he had would lead them to the same place. Chris was not a man to try and expect the worst, however as things continue it gets a little harder. The two made it over to the abandoned medical facility that seems to be covered in Construction Workers 'eager' to get back to work, Chris passed Raphael a Walkie Talkie as he says, "Take a look around".

Chris waited for Raphael's recon as he prepared his gear, he moved towards the trunk of his car as he began moving away his decoy items: his bibles, rosaries, crosses, a spare suit, and his vestments. As he placed his hand on the edge of the trunk as he lifted, revealing a hidden compartment that hidaway his gear he brought: guns, ammunition, medical supplies, bindings, blades, grenades, anti-armor weapons, and a bucket.

Chris started to gear up as he grabbed his costume, somethine similar to a futuristic swashbuckler, with a helmet covered in this golden finish. Next was to his weapons, his favorite being a pair of ornate gauntlets that cover all the way to his elbows and seem to be covered in religious markings. After which he grabs a pair of handguns with large suppressors on them as he puts them on body holsters, as he begins loading himself up with ammunition.

Once fully loaded, Chris began doing light stretching, but in the midst of it he heard Raph speak through the Walkie Talkie. Chris heard the quick plan, and thought it was good enough as he grabbed the Walkie Talkie and said, "Alright, we'll go with your plan. It's better than what we usually do". As Chris began making his way over to the area, slipping through the shadows around the guards and making his way to the back. Chris, waited for Raphael, knowing once they get in, everyone inside needs to be taken out in a moment.

From his vantage point, Raph could see Chris gearing up. Once he appeared ready, Raph made his move. The truck had pulled up and the bay doors were open. Workers were unloading crates of supplies that certainly looked medical, but Raph wasn't buying it.

He dove from the roof and unfurled his wings. He swooped across the street and tucked them back in just in time to slip through the opening between the truck and the loading bay. His landing was silent, but still incredibly obvious. The "construction workers" immediately lost their disguise and pulled their weapons. Word of Raph's attacks had gotten out for sure.

The warehouse was large, giving him the advantage of flight. Raph took off and disappeared into the darkness looming above them before he dove back down to plant a boot directly onto a man's face. The force and speed was enough to crunch bone, and insure that the worker wasn't going to be getting back up again.

All hell broke loose. Guns fired and blood sprayed at the full fledged fight began.

Chris witnessed Raphael enter the warehouse in a quick and obvious fashion, meaning it was time for him to make his own entrance. When the fighting started Chris quickly slipped in and watched as everyone's attention get pulled to Raph, giving Chris the perfect moment to attack from the shadows.

Chris pulled out his duel customized .45 caliber supressed hand guns as he began taking aim. He was aiming to put bullets through their arms and legs. Chris wasn't one to care if they die or not, but he did atleast want to incompasitate them to hopfully leave some of them up to actually talk.

Chris began letting loose rounds, with the suppressors and the bullets being sub sonic, it allowed for the noise they made to be neglagable as the guns made next to no noise as the loud bang never occurs from the bubllet never breaking the sound barrier. In the cacophony of combat Chris was almost like a ghost as Raph was taking their attention. Anytime someone wisened up and tried to look for Chris or tried to get Raph when he wasn't looking, he took them down quickly.

While Chris worked from the shadows, Raph was perfectly content making a scene. A very messy scene. Within minutes, the guards were either unconscious, no longer breathing, or wishing they weren't. Raph folded his wings in, paying no mind to the flecks of blood that splattered the white feathers. It was hard to tell if it was his, or someone else's.

There was a door leading into the lab that was secured with a card reader. Raph wasted no time snatching one of the men's access cards and running it through the slot. Inside, the alarms were already blaring.

Doctors in white coats and researchers in scrubs dashed around, withdrawing as much data as they could before destroying the evidence. Raph swooped forward without hesitation and tore into them mercilessly. As ruthless as he had been towards the guards, his vendetta against these particular villains was personal.

By the time Chris caught up, most of the scientists were bloodied on the ground. Except one, who Raph had pinned to the wall by the shirt, seething in his face.

"Where is it?" Raph growled through gritted teeth. He wasn't particularly known for his patience.

"Where's wha-"

"You know what!" The accusation was punctuated by the doctor's head being slammed into the wall behind him. The man yelped and pointed weakly up the hall.

"Down there, two doors over."

Raph huffed and released the man. He glanced back at Chris long enough to communicate his fears through his eyes alone. Raph mentally braced himself to face one of his brothers at last.

The lab was dark when they entered. Raph could see decently well in the dark; enough to find the light switch. He flicked it on, and immediately his eyes settled on the tank in the center of the room. The gaunt form floating inside the preservation fluids was unmistakable: the white wings, the religious texts scarred into every inch of his skin, the bruises and marks of long term abuse, and most disturbing of all, his uncanny appearance to Raph himself. It was clear they shared at least one DNA doner, if not both.

Wires and tubes were flowing out of every available vein. They were draining this angel like ripe fruit, keeping him alive artificially with machines as long as they could to extract his precious mutant hormones.

Raph was frozen for a moment before he moved forward. He had a stony look of determination to complete the mission: to free his brother. His fist landed solidly against the glass. Blood and clear fluid ran down his arms as he tore at the tank until he had a hole big enough to pull the angel out, tearing him free of the tubes and wires that bound him.

He fell to the floor and cradled the corpse on his lap. He stared into the younger face, marred with cruelty and neglect. This angel had probably died weeks ago from whatever torture they had inflicted on him. Raph had been too late. He felt tears well up in his eyes and he clutched his brother closer. As Raph whispered apologies to the lost soul, the sound of boots filled the hall behind them.

They wouldn't be alone for much longer.

Once the fighting finished, Chris was spending some of his time checking on the people, some were dead, plain and simpple, yet the ones who weren't dead out right were the one's Chris was worried about. He needed to make sure that they had at least some chance of survival. Many were shifted and moved to allow for them to properly breathe while unconcious. And a few others he quickly made sure they were unable to retaliate after all of this. Once Chris was finished, he noticed a bit of screaming coming from an open door, as he knew that was where Raphael was.

As Chris made his way through he saw Raphael take his revenge, all Chris did was watch, he knew this was the reason for their travel here, after all, Chris believed in one thing, the Angel was dead.

When they started making their way over to the tube holding the Angel, Chris was given confirmation on his thoughts, as the suspended body and many tubes told him they were keeping the Angel alive. Well the Angel's body is alive, the man was dead probably awhile ago, the onl thing that was alive was enough bodily functions to probably harvest what ever they could from one of their projects.

Chris witnessed Raphael complete his mission as a brother, sadly the family reunion was going to be interupted, as the sounds of boots started making thier way over. Chris on instinct was about to grab Raphael and get him mopving, but he took a moment and said, "I'll handle this, you see your brother home". Chris turned as he made his way to the sound of the incoming guests. Chris began speaking, having his helmet boom his voice as it begins to echo through the halls "For whom shall you bleed? For your god? For your family? Or for a fist full of cash? You commit sin and perpetuate it for nothing more than that. If you wish to sin, then let's see if I can cleanse you of those thoughts".

Chris normally pulled little stunts like this to scare them. Often he does this to hopfully scare them away. Maybe it'll work, sadly for him, unlike many of the other talkative heroes, those who are able to tell the tale of him, normally are too afraid to spread the rumor of his, so there are plenty of times where people just think of him as being cocky. Maybe the large amount of bodies on their way in would maybe make them think twice, before coming charging at Chris, but he is ready for anything.

Raph took a moment longer to pull himself up off the ground. He gazed down at his brother one last time before he turned on the hoard that dared to interrupt his mourning. He was shaking with rage.

Raph didn't give the men that rounded the corner a moment to reconsider their actions. He showed them the exact same mercy they had shown his poor brother. Gunshots rang out as he flew forward and tore the weapon away from the offender. He smashed the butt end into the man's face hard enough to crush bone, then turned to the next and speared him with the barrel.

He spread his wings, slamming two more guards against the wall and earning himself time to grab another. Raph let out an animalistic cry of pure rage as he tore the man's head clean from his shoulders. From there, his fight devolved into little more than a rabid beast, completely devoid of reason or restraint. He wouldn't stop until the hall was painted red.

When the final guard fell, Raph collapsed to his knees. His body shook as the adrenaline drained from his blood and the consequences of his actions hit him. He was absolutely covered in blood, and not all of it was his victims'. In their last moments, the guards had tried to fight off the hellish monster that they had helped create. Some of them landed a few good shots. Raph's wings hung loosely by his sides, fresh wounds soaking the white feathers. He held his gut, applying pressure over yet another grievous wound.

He felt numb to the pain, and to the sheer brutality he had committed. He didn't care about the lives he had taken, even if he ended up losing his own in the process. It became apparent with each raid that Raph's self preservation instincts existed for one single purpose: vengeance. Nothing else would motivate him.

Chris was prepared to fight, but what he saw was a fall of death as Raphael let every ounce of rage out upon each man who rounded the corner of the hall way. Christopher had just witnessed the man he calls friend become a demon for a moment, pain no longer became an idea, death was no longer even a thought, just somethihng that will occcur. Chris was left dumbfounded for a time, as he had watched each wall become covered in blood, as maybe moments past before the final shot was fired, and silence occured.

Chris made his way over to Raphael as he sees a man collapsed abd covered in more blood than any man can hold in him. As Raph held himself together by his sheer will at this point, his body looked like it was sent through the wringer, his gut hung loose, and his wings looked like they would be better clipped. But Chris knew he was going to livc, he always did.

CHristopher picked Raphael up and said, "Hey, let's get you out of here, that looks pretty bad". As Chris gets the both of them out of the warehouse and into his car where he prepares his seat with a large cloth covering the seat and medical supplies. Here Chris begins patching Raphael up, putting bandages, stuffing wounds, and making sure he wouldn't die on the way.

Once finished, Chris gets into his car and drives them off, Chris began getting on his phone as he starts makiong a call, "Hey, it's me. I'm heading on back, he wound up getting some grevious wounds. Can you get someone over to fix him up?". Chris was calm about the situation, he was slightly used to this idea, after all, this was the thing that normally happened to him when he did shit like this.

The womnan on the other side of the phone seemed less than pleased with what is happening as she said, "I swear to god this always happens. He better not bleed on my carpet". As Chris was about to hang up, but he heard something on the other side of the phone that made him smile as he stayed on the phone as he talked all the way until he made it home.

After an hour or so car ride, Chris began pulling into a large home, it had 2 stories, a large front lawn and garden, a drive way with multiple expensive looking cars, and a large ornate gate. Once Chris pulled in, he began grabbing Raph and taking him inside, being ginger enough not to hurt him as he entered the home, another raid finished.

[Sanity43217]

Aleksandr was driving around town. Mindlessly listening to the police scanner for the next scoop. There was a drug raid across from a pizzeria, but he was far more interested in what he heard of next. Reports of a scuffle at a warehouse, that he had been keeping tabs on for a while. As far as he knew, it was a lab of dubious origin. He knew the type. He was building a case to get them shut down, but they were a professional operation. Every time he got too close, they moved. Police tended to steer clear of these sites, almost like they were being paid to look the other way. So it was interesting that the address was mentioned at all on the police scanner. As he expected, it was glossed over by dispatch, so Sasha made it his night's mission to investigate. He changed lanes and started his way towards the old warehouse.

Entering the warehouse, Sasha was greeted with a crime scene. Bodies strewn across the floor. He noticed that all the bodies were uniformed. Most in security, but some in scientist garb. He found it odd. He knelt down next to one of the bodies. Inspecting its wounds. Brutal. The arm was nearly torn clean off. A feat of super human strength. He glanced over his shoulder, surveying the room. Piecing together what had transpired here before he arrived. "Someone was angry." He said to himself. HE turned to another body, only to find a bullet hole. "Interesting." He inspected the wound. His mind doing a number of calculations. The wound was pf a .45 ACP round. Though something was off. Exit wound seemed a little off. He checked the weapons of the dead security forces. 9mm handguns and 5.56×45mm NATO cartridge assault rifles. The shooter wasn't one of the guards. Which meant that mister angry pants had an accomplice. His mind moving a million miles a second. Piecing together what had transpired. That's when it him him. Subsonic rounds. Whoever had raided this place were professional, or at least very sneaky.

With that, Aleksandr heard two van pull up out front. Thinking quick, he ducked into a supply closet. Unholstering the 9mm he had on his left side, he pulled a suppressor from his pocket and began fastening it. He knew he didn't have long. He figured it would be the clean up crew for the lab. Come to clear up any evidence that it had ever existed. Peeking through the crack in the door, he saw two people enter in full hazmat suits. They began dousing the bodies in some form of accelerant. A third person entered, also in hazmat, and walked straight up to one of the computer terminals and started copying files over to a portable hard drive.
Stepping out from the supply closet, he fired twice into the heads of the cleaners pouring gasoline, before turning and firing again just as the third cleaner had turned to investigate. Sasha then walked over and pushed the cleaner's body off the console, and finished copying the files. Taking the hard drive for himself, he exited the warehouse. Mercilessly shooting the fourth and final cleaner in the head as he exited the building. Holstering his gun, he walked the half a block to his car and sat in the driver's seat. Sasha grabbed his laptop from the glovebox and plugged in the hard drive to see what intel he had just stolen.