[IC] The Mavericks | Neo-Genesis

[Lord Wraith]

_{𝒯 𝒽 𝑒 𝑀 𝒶 𝓋 𝑒 𝓇 𝒾 𝒸 𝓀 𝓈}

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ᑎ ᕮ O - G ᕮ ᑎ ᕮ ᔕ I ᔕ

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^{| GMs: Stein | Deputy GMs: None | Genre: Fandom, Superhuman, Modern Fantasy | Type: Linear with Sandbox Elements |}

► L A R I S S A | S O M E R S E T

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^{May 2016 - The Night Of The Explosion}

"Chuck you can't." The woman's voice sounded as real and authentic as any other person could have from the otherside of the phone. But Charles Michaels knew better than anyone that Glitch was far from real. Having built and programmed Glitch during his late teenage years, the Artifical Intelligence has been with him for the last thirty years. "You haven't suit up in years."

"My body remembers." Charles replied to the worried A.I. as the helicopter landed outside the Nuclear Power Plant in Larissa. The former leader of the Mavericks, Chuck had discovered he had the ability to mimic and retain the abilities of other supers. Although he hadn't used any of their abilities in years he could still feel them waiting beneath his skin to come out. Jumping from the helicopter before it had a chance to land, the man felt his knees threaten to give out from underneath him.

"Even if the body isn't quite what it used to be." Chuck muttered as he moved forward, carried by super strong steps as he closed the gap rapidly. He had no idea what caused the facility to go into an overload but if anyone was going to risk containing it, it was to be him. He was not going to risk the life of his employees because of his own failures.

"The main reactor is over heating." Glitch's voice came again as Chuck raced through the facility. "You're not going to make it."

"I'm going to make it!" Chuck retorted as he burst into the main chamber. Fusion was a powerful tool for mankind but Chuck's designs meant that if the core went into overload it would essentially start to create a small star in Larissa. A star that would eventually become a singularity and obliterated the world. It was worth noting that the stock holders had no idea this was a possibility.

"I can reverse the process." Chuck stated. "But this wasn't an accident." He added as he started to mutter. Fingers flew across the controls as Chuck fought to reverse the process. The facility shook as the core emitted a flare nearly knocking the fifty year old man from the controls.

"Glitch, rerouted the cooling systems, take the secondary reactors offline and put all cooling systems on the primary core."

"Done." Came the A.I.'s response as Chuck continued his work.

"I've just about got it." Chuck said pushing a final button. Taking a deep breath he wiped his brow as he leaned back. "See Glitch. I told you I could do it." He said with a familiar smirk.

Suddenly the reactor rumbled. Chuck froze and then the moment was over.

► L A R I S S A | S O M E R S E T

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^{May 2016 - One Day After The Explosion}

"A day later and the city is still recovering from yesterday's crisis. For those of you who were left in the dark here's Winter Caspian live from the Michaels' Nuclear Power Plant."

"Thanks Faith!" Came the woman's voice as the screen transitioned from the blonde anchor in the newsroom to the brunette standing outside the smoking Nuclear Fusion building. "Yesterday at about one in the afternoon, the Michaels' Nuclear Power Plant went into an overload state. While on-site technicians raced against the clock to prevent an emergency, the Facility still managed to emit an electromagnetic that left Larissa without power for the majority of yesterday prompting crime sprees all over the city. Emergency services are advising those who don't have to leave home to stay indoors until the city is cleared from emergency status. As of right now only the downtown core has power but according to city officials everyone should have power by this evening. This has been Winter Caspian reporting live from the Michaels' Nuclear Power Plant for Channel 42 News. Back to you Faith."

Out of Continuity

► L A R I S S A | C I T Y D I O N Y S I A

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^{May 2016 - One Night After The Explosion}

Sirens echoed through Larissa's main corridors as police cruisers, ambulances and firetrucks raced across the city in search of wounded or those in aid. Smiling from the shadowy alleyways, David Everly flexed his fist and smiled, taking a step forward only to speed across the street in the blink of an eye. Yesterday he in the middle of breaking into a jewelry store when the police had stopped him at gunpoint. Then the explosion happened. Today he was capable of breaking the sound barrier without breaking a sweat. Whatever Michaels had put in that facility certainly packed the right type of punch.

Speeding around the corner, glass shattered as David flew through the window to another jewelry store. Alarms went off as he filled his arms with rings, bracelets, necklaces and earrings before speeding off again. Larissa was officially his playground. A wicked smile spread across his face as the man made his way towards the Olympus District.

[Lord Wraith]

Out of Continuity

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| | ~ Ɲ ǀ Ɠ H Ƭ S O Ɲ Ɠ ~ | |

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^{"Can you feel the darkness, is all around. Shadows burns at your mind, fire in the sky. Can you hear the night?"}

ᒪ ᗩ ᖇ I ᔕ ᔕ ᗩ | T ᕼ ᕮ ᔕ O ᑌ ᑎ ᗪ

^{May 2016 - One Night After The Explosion}

The candle light flickered in the darkness of the apartment. The power outages across the city had rendered the entire district in the dark, not even the street lamps outside where lit. The silence from the street below was deafening, barely a car had drove by since the explosion had rocked the city yesterday. A tense still hung over the apartment as the set of eyes stared intently at the woman across from him.

"I hate to do this, but I'm afraid I have no choice." The voice began as he reached forward.

"No, you don't have to do that, c'mon I'm begging you here." The female replied, her voice quivering slightly as the male made his move.

"Sorry..." The voice said with a chuckle as the cards were laid on the table. "Pick up eight El."

"C'mon Harley! Why do you do this to me?" Ellara asked with a mock groan as she reached towards the center of the table. Picking up the required cards from the pile at the center of the table, Ellara nodded to Alexis. "Your son is evil."

"He gets it from you, I'm a freakin' angel." Replied Alexis as she placed her cards, eliciting a groan from Harley as the colour of the deck changed.

"C'mon, what was so bad about red?" He bemoaned.

"I don't have any." Smiling, Alexis watched as Ellara reached into her deck and placed a few cards on the table.

"I hope the power comes back on soon. I don't think the food in the fridge will keep much longer." She commented looking towards the dark kitchen.

"I think the super said he was going to get a generator running in the basement." Added Alexis as she followed Ellara's gaze to the kitchen. "Don't think I can handle eating anymore mock chicken, it's supposed to last a week, not go in two days."

"And it's suppose to be for my lunches!" Harley piped up.

"That it is buddy." Ellara said with a smile as she knocked on the table while holding up a single card. "Uno."

"You bitch!" Alexis exclaimed with a light punch to Ellara's arm.

"Mommy said a bad word!" Harley yelled pointing at Alexis as she gasped upon realizing what had come out of her mouth.

"You hear nothing child. Now stop her!" Alexis said as placed a card on the pile.

"I don't have anything!" Cried Harley as he threw a random card on the deck.

"Thank you Harley." Ellara said smugly as she placed her final card on the pile. "And I believe that's a win for me."

"You bitch!" Harley said, parroting his mother from moments ago.

"HARLEY!" Scolded Alexis.

"What?" He asked innocently, "How come you can say it and I can't?"

"I... will have to get back to you on that one." Alexis said with a slight pause. "But what I do know is that it's time for you to get to bed. We may not have power but you have school tomorrow."

"Night Harley!" Called Ellara as she leaned back in her chair. "Hey Lex, I'm going to go out. See if I can't find a burger joint open. You want me to bring you back anything?"

"Maybe just some fries?" Alexis called back.

"Can do." Replied Ellara as she grabbed her leather jacket and headed out the door. Locking the door behind her, Ellara took a few steps before pausing and turning back to the apartment. Testing the door knob, she put her shoulder into the door, ensuring it didn't budge. Satisfied, Ellara made a move to walk away before checking the door one last time and heading towards the stairs. Although numerous cars were damaged in the explosion, it was primarily the state of emergency keeping people off the road. That part didn't bother Ellara too much especially since over the past year she'd been putting her fists into the face of Larissa's scum.

Things were changing in both Larissa and Ellara. She wasn't nearly as timid as she had been before meeting Alexis. Perhaps all she needed ten years ago was a friend. But Ellara was moving in the opposite direction of Larissa, the city herself was going down. Crime had been on a steady rise and no doubt the explosion had prompted several sprees across the Greater Larissa Area. Ellara had even heard rumors of a re-emergence of the Harbour Kings' gang. Jumping over the door of her GTO, Ellara pushed the key into the ignition and turned as the engine roared to life. Without most of the modern electronics, the old Pontiac was unaffected by the explosion that had rocked the city. Putting the car into gear, Ellara drove out of the garage and into the night.

[Hillan]

B R E N I N

ᒪ ᗩ ᖇ I ᔕ ᔕ ᗩ | T ᕼ ᕮ ᔕ O ᗰ ᕮ ᖇ ᔕ ᕮ T ᗪ I ᔕ T ᖇ I ᑕ T

^{May 2016 - The Night Of The Explosion}

Kalvin was riding his motorcycle down the highway on the outskirts of Larissa, weaving in and out of traffic, speeding up on the side of a car, a Yellow Porsche Carrera S4, a car more expensive than the entire block that Kalvin lived in. Inside was an older man in a ill fitting two piece suit, a tacky tie around his neck, and on his side was his presumed trophy wife, a hot blonde thing less than half his age. Kal grinned under his visor, breaking slightly, he pulled up next to the passenger door, lifted his visor and waved, flashing a smile at the two. The woman giggled and the man grunted as he revved the engine of his car, pushing the very expensive car far past the speed limit. The biker smiled, pulling down the visor and chasing after, the sports car was no match for the trimmed bike one tenth of it's price, as Kalvin blew past the Porsche and into the distance, vanishing from sight when he went past a Blue van.

He continued down the road at break neck speeds, focusing on each car he passed, leaning to the right, leaning to the left, pushing the machine he was sitting on to it's very limits, but at the same time, pushing his mind in the very same way. That was the way it used to be, anyway, now, he had gotten used to the speed, the engine could not go faster than he pushed it, he needed a new thrill.

Taking a left on the next exit, he headed towards the center of the Somerset district, past the overpass, he was going to meet up with a girl who worked at the local plant, she was a.. Honestly, Kalvin didn't know, her name was.. Cindy? Yeah, Cindy sounded about right to him.

As the engine roared it was overshadowed by the loud explosion, sounding like a very pissed off thunderclap. Coming from the direction the young biker was heading in, in front of him, a blue Honda Civic skidded to a halt, turning sideways on the freeway, getting hit by a car from the back, forcing Kalvin to steer to the right, his bike slipping from under him and he was sent over the railing. Plummeting to his death, all he could feel was nothing. Followed by a warm energy, like rays of sun, or warm water, and in the next his eyes shot open with a surge of adrenaline. Falling head-first, he held his arms in front of his face, in the next moment he landed on the ground, it hurt, sure, but no worse than when he fell of his bicycle, a few bruises and scratches on his forearms that had parried his fall. He looked up, to a city in chaos, people screaming all around.

”What the hell happened?”

[Natty]

Under normal circumstances, would adore the prospect of a power cut. It gave him a real reason to step away from the television. A reason to head to that rickety old IKEA bookshelf in the corner and tear straight into a new world of adventure, romance, and excitement. He loved this time; curled up on the couch surrounded by an array of dimly lit candles, reading peacefully, his roommate fidgeting nervously on the armchair in front of him as she worried about how to get her mobile data working. It had been a simpler time.

Things were different now however. While Amir loved having time alone with just his thoughts and a good book, he knew that wouldn’t ever be an option again. Because now it wasn’t just him alone with his thoughts and a good book. Now it was him, a good book, and the Dark Lord Cthulhu chatting away in his head. Well chatting away probably wasn’t the best way to describe it. All he was doing was whispering. Whispering about Amir’s potential in the world. However the “potential” he spoke of wasn’t something that Amir was all too happy with. The whisperings often grew worse when Amir was alone, hence why reading wasn’t really much of an option anymore. He had to do something to take his mind away from the creepy little parasite.

Jogging was his solution; an activity that seemed to be beneficial in more ways than just blocking his voice out. It was soothing and relaxing for Amir, which was good considering it had become a daily routine of his. Now that the city was facing a mass power outage however, Amir had been jogging quite a lot more than his usual daily amount. He wasn’t stupid though. As Brooke had screeched to him worriedly before he had left the apartment, the streets probably weren’t the safest places to be at this kind of night, especially with the lack of lighting around. And especially for someone of his ethnicity. She was right of course. The news had been showing images and clips of looters from the previous night, all day. It was easy to assume that they’d continue.

Regardless Amir had to get out of that apartment. He had been going stir crazy, with him even beginning to follow the same erratic behaviour of Brooke. It wasn’t until the voice began speaking in his head one more that he had become adamant to leave. No way was he letting that thing grind his gears. The soft menacing voice of Cthulhu was quickly drowned out by the sound of the city’s nightlife as soon as he stepped outside, refreshing Amir slightly.

Still weary of Brooke’s previous warnings however, Amir decided not to take his run into the centre of The Sound and the Lower East Side like he had originally planned, instead turning up a side street, towards the looming peak of Mount Nysa that was just noticeable between the rooftops. If there was one place he could run peacefully without fear of looters and muggers, it was the Olympus District.

What harm could he come to there?

[Nemaisare]

ANDREW

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LARISSA | Grimm University Main Campus

^{May 2016 - Two Days After The Explosion}

“Opa! Hey, hi, d’you hear? Yeah, no, it’s a little crazy. I’m fine though, and Janelle. She’s waiting for the phone, yeah. Few other people, too.”

He glanced over his shoulder briefly, wondering if his grandpa could hear the understatement in his voice. It was like a hyped up video game or book release was going on the way that line snaked out the door. The feeling of eyes on his back was making his shoulders squirm and he figured he probably looked like he had to pee given how much he was fidgeting. But it was good to hear the old man’s voice. “But hey, you’re alright? New Alexandria and that, the ferry wasn’t running, was it? Oh jeez, yeah, that’s good. Great. No, can’t get the news, power’s kaput, why I didn’t phone sooner. Mum and Dad’re-? Good, good to know, hey, hi, yeah. I can’t talk long, not my phone, just checking in. Make sure you’re doing good…”

Andrew let his words trail off, sure they’d get the point. He hadn’t been certain about the extent of the power outage, so they might not have been alright, a thought he wasn’t used to dealing with. What he was used to, was reassuring them about his health. He knew the routine that kept them from worrying. Well, from worrying too much.

Make sure they could hear him say the words. Give them a smile if they could see him, and be honest about the little things they could help with. Be honest about the big things too, of course, but not over the phone when there was nothing they could do, just with his doctor for now. Only got the one phone call though and he’d had to choose between their worry and making an appointment. Things were probably backed up with emergencies anyway, he’d hold out fine.

So, he didn’t mention the way his heart had jumped with the explosion. He just smiled into the phone and smirked at his dad’s jokes for another minute or so before he figured things were good on their end. It was relief enough to know they hadn’t had nearly as much trouble. Though there’d been some near misses on the bridge, apparently, but not with them. Frightening, but mixed emotions, mostly, he was just grateful.

“Ha, no? Really? That’s a good one, yeah. I’ll tell her. Got t-Oh, what else d’you think? Barbecue chicken, duh, use up as much as we can with the fridge out. Sure, yep, I’ll call again as soon as I can. Have to get my phone back to working. You too. Take care. Love you. Allright, bye.”

He hung up.

Instantly regretted it.

It was just one of those automatic movements that was far too easy to manage. They’d sounded fine though. Happy to hear from him, but otherwise no complaints or concerns to be dealt with. Unless they were pulling the same stunt he was, since he’d obviously had to learn it somewhere.

Shaking his head at himself, Andrew let his hand drop and gave Janelle two thumbs up as he turned around. She grinned and slipped past him. Already dialing. “Meet you there, Cherry.”

Yeah…

He moved off to their usual spring lunch spot, making use of the cloudy day to snag a usually already spoken for picnic table (though it might have been the recent happenings that left it empty) and wait there for Janelle to join him. A sandwich and an apple, saving the rest for snacks, and plenty of time to watch and listen in on other people’s conversations. Most of it was the same. Classes cancelled or continued (and students happy or sad about either), someone mentioned being in a bus crash which must’ve been terrifying at the time, and everyone had theories or questions or an opinion to add about the whole situation. Plenty had stories (or complaints) about how they’d spent their powerless night, and he was fully prepared to join them when Janelle sat herself down across from him.

“So, apparently they’ve figured out what it was. Dad says,” And if that wasn't enough warning, then she obviously didn’t know his dad. “aliens are invading.”

[Dirge]

^{May 2016 - The Day After the Explosion}
As Eric stared down at the beaker, overflowing with roots, hundreds of questions passed through his mind. Why did it take over a day for the cells to differentiate? Why did they only differentiate into roots? As he pondered what happened, he reached down and picked up the beaker to feel the root mass. It felt like any root would feel, smooth with small root hairs branching off. More questions came to him. What would happen if I start the cells in soil? Why are the roots growing?... Eric suddenly realized that while he was touching the roots, they were growing longer. And fast. He took his hand away, startled by the roots' reaction to his touch. With this, they stopped growing. He quickly set the beaker back down under the hood and backed away. Turning on his heel, he ran to the only place that he thought could help him solve this conundrum. The library.

Eric rushed to the section filled with graduate student theses, knowing he had exhausted all of the textbooks on the subject. Balancing a pile of hardbound theses, he hurried to one of the quiet study rooms. Sitting down, he realized that his knuckles were white from gripping the books so tightly. As he pulled his hands out from under the pile, he felt a sensation he had never felt before in the palms of his hands. Probably something sticky on the bottom... As he spread the books out, Eric felt that something was holding the covers of the bottom four books together. With some effort, he pulled the first apart from the others. Roots...There were roots growing straight through all four bottom books. For a split second, the thought passed Eric's mind that the roots had come from his hands somehow, but he knew that that was foolish. Quickly, he dashed back to the shelf where he had picked up the theses. No roots... Slowly, Eric walked back to the quiet study, trying to figure out a reasonable explanation for all of this. When he sat back down at the cubicle desk, he pressed his palms against the desk and took a deep breath with his eyes closed, trying to calm himself down in order to think straight. When he slid his hands off the desk, the same sensation covered his palms. He opened his eyes, and to his bewilderment, found that where his hands were a second ago, two root networks now wound their way into the wood of the desk. Quickly checking that no one was looking, he ripped the roots out and threw them in the garbage and jogged back to his dorm.

Something happened to me. I'm obviously not going to be able to explain this via science. I need to figure out what this is on my own. Eric pushed the door open to his dorm. In order to keep himself calm, he decided to run a few experiments. He could at least pretend this was science. So, he knew that the roots were coming out of him, but he didn't know if he could control it. He pulled the sheets off his mattress and put his hands against it. After holding them there for a few seconds, he pulled them off. Okay, so it's not just every time I touch anything... He put his hands back on the mattress and "pushed". Eric felt something this time, but it startled him so he pulled his hands away. When he pulled his hands off, there was the same sensation, it felt like somebody lightly pinching at your palms. And there they were, the same as the roots he pulled out of the desk, now growing into his bed. Okay, so... I think I have superpowers.

[Stein]

Miles Bergeron

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Olympus District

One night after the explosion

Lesson One of being a Hero On the Rise? Stay in your lane. David may have been able to take on Goliath, but that had to be ordained by God himself, and most upstart vigilantes don’t have that kind of access, time or dedication. At least one ass whooping or pride bruiser is inevitable, it’s pretty much in the “Hero” job description. However, why take a waterboarding when you can just take a couple gut punches? Chances are, if your vigilante get-up doesn’t have a crotch sweat stain by the time you take on your first terrorist cell, it’s probably too soon. There is no shame in the vigilante who starts out tackling purse snatchers and enemies without military grade weapons, as mundane as it might sound.

Miles Bergeron tried to keep this in mind as he shook his jitters out, atop the SafeKnight International Bank building. A lone figure among the city lights that reached him.

‘Man. 10 stories seems like a lot more distance when you’re standing on top.’

He ideally had hopes of at least reaching 17, if only to waltz into a rated R movie unattended. Of course, preparing to jump from a building and quite literally hurl himself into danger might be counterproductive to that, but hey,

“Some things, you just gotta do.” His own voice startled him, he’d been uncharacteristically quiet for so long. On top of one of the corporate bank buildings in the Olympus district, the wind was all he needed to hear.

It was the highest he had ever been up with his powers. Up there, looking at the twinkling inter-network of a city flickering so dimly, he could almost convince himself that he could actually make a difference in the city. If he would just jump. Jump into the fray of the fight with Fitz around him, just maybe. Maybe he could do it. But, he couldn’t seem to take the plunge.

He sighed as his phone rang. He dreaded his mother’s voice. Her coming home early from work and finding him gone. It was bound to happen. He looked down beside him, only to remember that his phone was off, and stashed in his Hideaway spot.

“Then who…?” He turned to another figure outlined in darkness, on the opposite side of the roof of the building. The screen briefly illuminated a man’s face before it quickly plummeted into the darkness. Miles reacted with a start before catching himself. It seemed like the man had let go of the phone intentionally. A few seconds more of observation showed the man bouncing on his heels, shaking himself. Standing one foot and leaning forward! It dawned on Miles, what this was and his stomach sank.

Miles was an attentive kid, even if he was still rather hard headed. His mom often taught him little tips and tricks to survive in the world from the perspective of a nurse. Proudly CPR certified, 1st responder and all those other fun civilian titles to help a human in trouble, she’d even taken the time to describe those who might be suicidal.

It was going to be one of those nights for him.

Miles had to get the man’s attention. A hero would never stand idly by. No good person would. But shouting might startle him as would trying demand his attention. Miles decided to draw his attention instead. He focused on the source of his magic, the twist in the pit of his stomach. It spread to his chest and from his mind flowed the thought of this power. A soft aura began to emanate from him. The man began to notice and turned to him.
“Who are you?”

“You know it’s cold up here tonight, and you don’t even have a jacket. I’m not even that reckless, man,” Miles responded, thankful that he still had his hood up and his cowl on.

The man fully turned to him now, his interest momentarily piqued. “Are you…? You’re just a kid? What are you doing up here?” he demanded.

Miles shrugged, “I was actually about to ask you the same thing.”
This faltered the man and he was silent for a moment. “I...it’s easier when you’re young. Even as bad as it is now, it’s still easier when you are young.”

Miles’ heart was seemed to trying to force itself through his chest cavity from anxiety and nerves, but he leveled his tone, standing slowly. “You’d be surprised where a kid like me can be, because of how bad it is now. How did you do it?” ’Appeal to him. Calm him down. Talk him down. Calm him down. Talk him down. Calm him down. Talk him down.’

The man looked over the ledge again Miles used that break in contact to quicken his pace.

“I don’t think I can...it’s not worth it anymore,” the man finally spoke. Miles was upon him at this point. Now that the man could see him, he gave a mix between a scoff and a chuckle. “A ‘vigilante’ eh?” For a moment, the man seemed to calm. And Miles believed he could really talk him down.

Though he would come to realize one night that “Stay in your lane” also means “Use your goddamn common sense...dumbass” (roughly translated of course), tonight was not that night. And sometimes a man has to dig through the fool to find the sage inside. And Miles Bergeron, in his rambunctious glory, stepped out onto the ledge to meet Mr. Ozukai.

“Yeah,” Miles said putting his hands on his hips, proudly. “Somebody’s gotta try and make some change around here. Somebody gotta try to be something...like you said, shits getting bad out there.”

"Hiro Ozukai,” the man offered, giving a smile.

He hesitated for a brief moment, deciding to commit to his role as a Hero in Training. “PsycheOut at your service,” Miles planted his foot down and jutted his chest, a warmth spreading through his body. Mr. Ozukai’s smile, his sudden change in mood.

’Maybe this is what it’s all about,’ he thought with a soft smile as he let himself relax when the shudder ran up the building roof, violently shaking it --and its occupants. There was a gasp and a shared moment between the two males as they locked eyes--the danger realized. Imminent. They teetered over, arms flailed and gravity did what it had always done.

“FIIIIIIIIIIIITZ!” The young hero cried out as he plummeted with Mr. Ozukai.

Because when a fool falls, he falls fast. And God help the fool who hasn’t dreamed to fly.

When you don’t heed Lesson 1, your hero life might be short-lived.

[Natty]

Amir had certainly been right about the Olympus District. Unlike the rest of the city, the place still seemed somewhat peaceful despite everything that was going on. No gangs. No looters. Just an air of peace. It helped that the power was still on here, lighting the streets in a rich golden glow from the streetlights above. The district’s main high-street was no exception and as such, Amir decided to take his jog there. He kept at a steady pace, not wishing to tire himself out too much. In each ear sat a headphone, allowing Amir the pleasure of zoning out all his thoughts into the soothing feeling of the world moving past him and the pleasurable sounds of Beyoncé. It was just what he needed. He could block out the negative thoughts. He could block out him.

As he ran, Amir regularly turned to the shop windows on his left, watching the smiling reflection of himself. He didn’t want to seem egotistical, but he had to admit that he looked good. Better than he felt however. That was when the reflections changed however.

One second there was Amir, the dark skinned jogger. The next? Well Amir couldn’t even describe it properly. The thought made him slightly hazing. It was disorientating. Nauseating. The reflection was still there, although he seemed warped. The tentacles was probably the most noticeable thing. They floated dreamily behind him, like tendrils of darkness, with the mere sight of them instilling a slight air of fear to Amir. The reflection’s backdrop was different too. Gone was the peaceful Olympus street and its radiating glow. Now there was only fire and suffering. That wasn’t the worst thing though. No, the worst thing were the eyes. Eyes of an incomparable luminosity. Eyes resembling that of two disastrous black holes, swirling as if they might entrap anyone that got too close.

Despite all this though, they were still Amir’s eyes looking back at him.

Amir tore his eyes away, darting their attention to his feet. Breathing heavily, he realized that he had stopped walking, his legs feeling somewhat stiff as If he hadn’t moved them in several minutes. How long had he been stood there, staring into the shop window? What it him? Had Cthulhu somehow gotten to him?

Shaking away the feeling, Amir readjusted his headphones, letting a loud yet relaxing blast of music to pour into him. He took in one final breath before risking a glance back towards his reflection. He let out a sigh of relief however upon being met with nothing more than just his usual self.

“I… I must be going crazy” He spoke aloud, his voice barely louder than a whisper.

His head fell into his hands. He wanted to cry, yet no tears came. Why was this happening to him?

Before he had anytime to overthink that particular question, Amir found himself hurtling forward towards the window slightly, the cause of which being a gust of suddenly appearing wind originating from behind him. Turning, Amir caught sight of it. A blur of light moving up the street away from him. His eyes widened even further as that blur seemed to slow in speed, coming to a halt at the end of the road. As it slowed, Amir saw that it was a man. Extremely confused, he watched as this newcomer gazing around at the shop fronts before him. He seemed to let out a short laugh, something which Amir only barely managed to hear from this distance.

He opened his mouth to call out to him, when the man vanished, with the blur rocketing straight into the window of a jewellery store. As the alarm immediately began to sound, wailing into the night, Amir realized that this man, despite his superhuman looking abilities, was in no shape or form one of the classic superheroes he had read about as a child, but it would seem that he was actually a villain. A real life supervillain. The thought made his stomach churn.

_{”Don’t Amir… Let chaos be…”}

The voice that suddenly appeared in his head made it even worse. However it made his realize what he had been thinking, and that was that he had to help. He had powers. He could do this. Right?

Pulling his hood up over his head, and switching his music to something more upbeat, he charged forwards, a sound of extreme disapproval ringing inside his head.

[Nemaisare]

ANDREW

---

LARISSA | The Sound

^{May 2016 - Two Nights After The Explosion}

“You okay?”

“Huh? Oh yeah, just, stairs, ugh. Too many.” She didn’t call him on his complaint, though he’d been walking up the stairs almost every day since they moved in. Exercise, he’d said then; pain in the ass, he thought now. Andrew smirked at Janelle from his slumped position on their couch as she dragged things out of the fridge and frowned at the slowly growing pile. She’d been at it when he came in, and he’d been sitting there lamenting the lack of working elevators for at least ten minutes. How much stuff did they have in their fridge?

“There a supermarket in there behind the back panel or what?” He hauled himself up with reluctance when she just snorted and gingerly lifted out the tub of ice cream they kept around for those just in case emergencies of someone bringing home brownies. The face she made meant it was definitely not frozen anymore. “Good riddance anyway.” She raised an eyebrow and he sighed, grimacing. Okay, not good riddance, ice cream was expensive. But at least most of this other stuff was still salvageable, or at the very least still edible. Though it might not last long. “If you’re thinking what I’m thinking, we can’t eat all this before it goes bad. You don’t even like salad.”

There was a lot of already wilting greens. Not to mention the carrots, which had been accidentally frozen in the vegetable drawer, would probably turn into unappetizing mush overnight. But there was definitely no cold air in the fridge or the freezer anymore. And they still weren’t sure when the power was coming back on. He picked the tub up from where she’d set it and dumped it in the sink, wrinkling his nose in disappointment. There was a box of brownie mix in the cupboard they’d been saving for the weekend. Well, at least that wouldn’t be going bad in a hurry.

“I know. But we have neighbours. Some of them like us. We can do a barbecue potluck thing or whatever until the power comes back on. Try uhhh, those people… the ones we helped move in. Ask if they like hamburgers, or grilled chicken. And if they have barbecue sauce.” Andrew rinsed out the sink while he tried to remember their names himself, one started with an ‘A’, he was pretty sure. Alice? Alison? Alex? Maybe… “Alex?”

“Alexis! That’s it, and maybe Laura, don’t quote me on that one. Go, shoo! Before they start making their own plans.”

He went. Passing the elevators on his way and scowling at them for their betrayal. Not working when he needed them to, hah, horrible things. As much as he’d been making fun of himself about the stairs, they’d taken more out of him than he wanted to admit. He’d stood up too quickly, too, made his head spin, and he didn’t think that was a good sign, but deep breaths and taking it slow until he could confirm the problem would just have to do. Still, it would have been nice if he’d made it back home to working elevators after spending most of the day turning over the last of the empty flowerbeds and mixing in manure to get them ready for planting. He’d left his bike in the front hall, because he was not carrying it up, too. And yeah, someone was probably going to be annoyed about that, but he’d get it after he invited Alexis and them over.

At least no one had been in the elevators when the power went out. He’d checked, because that was not a situation he could imagine anyone wanting to be in. He wasn’t claustrophobic, but still, just no. Not fun. Thankfully, there’d been no need to improvise a rescue. He wasn’t even sure what they’d have been able to do if someone had been in them, so, yeah, lucky. Very lucky. Good thing the explosion happened at night, right? Would have been a lot more disasters if it had been during rush hour or something.

Shaking his head at his inability to stop thinking about it, because every time he tried he’d start thinking about it more, Andrew knocked on the door and sincerely hoped he had at least one of their names right and that they might remember him and Alexis was the one who answered. His big grin when it was her who opened the door was small compared with his internal cheer, but even so, he decided maybe not to risk it. “Uh, hi. So, we were wondering, uh, me and Janelle,” he pointed down the hall towards their place even if no one else was visible, “if you had barbecue sauce? Cuz someone – it was me, I’m horrible – forgot to grab it last week. Also, if you like grilled chicken or hamburgers, cheeseburgers maybe? We’ve got options. Kinda. And salad. Please like salad, there’s tons of it. We need hungry people, our fridge makes food multiply, I swear.”

That would actually be pretty useful. But not when it was making soured milk or off meat clones.

“Oh, I don’t know about drinks though… We might have some warm pink lemonade still.” He was totally selling this venture, wasn’t he? Had he even remembered to say what he’d come here for? Well, maybe not with perfect clarity, he’d have to work on that. “I mean, if you don’t already have dinner plans, want to come save our food from going to waste?”

[Stein]

Miles Bergeron

---

Olympus District

One night after the explosion

Lesson number 2 of being a Hero on the Rise: always have an exit strategy. You’re not invincible or immortal. Hell, maybe you are--but drowning probably would still probably hurt like a bitch. In that case, you need a plan B. Not the one that comes after plan A, but the one that comes after Becky made a couple bad decisions one night. Abort the hell outta there. Better to fight another day than burn out on your first leg of the journey, and unfortunately, you’re not cool enough yet to become a legend by dying heroically

Essentially, this is for those times when you forget Lesson number 1. A lesson everyone should know, but especially those ambitious ones.

Those ambitious ones always seem to make a point of finding a way to fuck themselves when they don’t follow the first two Lessons of the Essentials of being a Hero on the Rise.

And Miles found himself falling right to that point. That “Oh, fuck.” point as he fell. In the echo of his initial scram from their fall, he heard a high whine. It was Mr. Ozukai, his cry mixing with the howl of the wind as they whipped down. And in that instant, dripping away as he neared the ground with alarming velocity, Miles couldn’t resist it. He let out a short laugh. It was enough to nerve him once more.

“FITZ!” It wasn’t a cry, it bordered on a direct command. And Miles sunk a demand into his tone that was heeded with gusto. A glow engulfed him, quickly spreading outward and refining to the form of large torso and arms. The glow of the quasi magical construct illuminated the air as Miles turned Fitz’s torso toward the ground, jutting the arms out. It was almost the extent of what he could do in this situation, but he had to try. With a surge, he formed a small shell of energy that encased the Fitz’s torso and Mr. Ozukai.

Not an instant soon as it slammed to the ground. A small crack appeared on the ground where the shell hit. The shell itself shattered almost instantly, dissipating into nothingness. Miles felt Fitz slam to the ground and felt the wind leave him. Mr. Ozukai landed with a thud on top of Fitz’s form, rolling off the side. Fitz’s form flickered and vanished, Miles plopping to the ground in its absence.

Everything hurt. Even his hair. Miles wasn’t even sure how that was possible. But he was in pain nonetheless. Bringing out such a large part of Fitz with no preparation was dangerous, and he could feel the migraine coming, and he couldn’t decide whether the physical or mental pain would be worse. However, he could decide that it was a good time to call it a night.

The backstreet he landed on had only a small number of stores lit, his glazing eyes found themselves resting on a few of them. The few people on the street had already begun wondering over to him and Mr. Ozukai.

’Great start Miles….you’re regular superstar,’ he thought, as the plight of unconsciousness threatened to overtake him.
The takeaway from all of this: don’t hold conversations on the actual edge of the building. Get the hell off while you can. Take the win and run.

[Hillan]

B R E N I N

ᒪ ᗩ ᖇ I ᔕ ᔕ ᗩ

^{May 2016 - Two days after the eplosion}
Kalvin had straggled himself home after his little biking accident. His motorcycle was totaled, and so was the railing he had run into, yet, he was unharmed. Not one had he crashed, but he had fallen over 30 meters, head first. Yet, there was not even a scratch on him. It made no sense, and the young man had going over the events of that night be countless times in his head.
Laying on the couch he held the pillow under his arm as he looked for the remote. He had been sleeping most of yesterday, chalking it up to a bad hangover, and was only now coming too. It wasn't his apartment, but the apartment of his best friend - Jacob Jordan. Kalvin had been in a fight with his step father and as such has to get out of the house, or get his ass beaten.

Of course, he had gotten used to it by now, but it upset his mother something terribly whenever he and his step father, Arthur would get into a fight. Fists would be thrown and threats would be made. It was all too messy. It was easier to hide out here, on a run down coach without any bed sheets, laying with a blanket that has gone far too long since it was washed. He needed to find himself a girlfriend, or better yet his own place. But that sure wasn't easy for someone with his.. Skills. Jacob walked into the room, interrupting his friend's thoughts, tossing a can of energy drink at the young man.

"Ay, Dude, get up, it's three o'clock." Jacob exclaimed, Kal grunting. "The hell you doing up now then?" The other young man grinned. "Please, I haven't gone to bed yet. Daddy's got work to do. Why do you think I'm drinking this?" He said, holding up a ceramic cup in his hand - the cup had the recently redesigned logo of the latest reboot of the movie franchise starring the once upon a time Champions of Larissa.

Kalvin grinned, opening the can of energy drink he had been given, taking a few gulps before looking at Jacob again. "I thought these things did nothing for you anymore?" He asked and Jacob laughed. "Who said I was drinking Energizer? This is Triple Espresso and half Energizer MAX. Pretty sure this could power a nuclear reactor." Kalvin chuckled "Speaking of which, have you seen the news?" Jacob asked, Kalvin finding the remote tried to put the TV on, much to their dismay, the screen remained dark.

Jacob scoffed. "Right, power's still out. Anyway, we got Chernobyl'd a couple of nights ago. The Michael's plant blew up." He said, all matter of fact-y, and Kalvin raised his eyebrows and sat up in the sofa, looking for his shirt. "What you mean blew up? Shouldn't we all be you know, dead, then?" And Jacob shook his head. "Apparently not, the radiation was sealed, only some form of an EMP was let out, knocking out most of the electricity in town. People are saying it was Mr.Michaels himself that did it. Manually, like, inside of the reactor, that's a man who's dedicated to his job."

Kalvin grinned, he knew what Jacob was gonna say next. "Man's a hero.", slurping his drink. Kalvin shuddered. "You're just trying to vex me." his best friend for over a decade knew just how much Kalvin despised the H-word, and he loved teasing him about it. It was part of the reason all of his coffee cups were Mavericks-Merchandise, Jacob himself thought they were B-Movies, and it was a shame that they were dominating Hollywood these days. But he had once found Kalvin's old box of stuff and had committed to the bit back when they were 16.

"Speaking of heroes, you wanna go and check out the set for the new Movie? I heard they're gonna call it 'Mavericks; Cataclysm'. I read on Creddit that it's apparently about the end of the world. Who would've guessed, way to raise the stakes." Jacob joked as Kalvin got dressed. Jacob wearing his bathrobe ontop of his jeans and T-shirt, like he usually did in the 'mornings.'

"Then again, can't be worse than the last one. 'The Mavericks; Valiant Heroics'. Bring back Rise Of Titans from the early 2000's, that was a good movie, and with such a twist!" Jacob spieled as Kalvin was ignoring him, letting out Mhm's here and there. "I mean, mind controlling Angel, making him work for the bad guys and attack the team from the inside? Seemingly killing Illadvised, only for Illadvised to come back in a big robotic suit, Wyrda and Feral kicking Angel's ass back to his senses and the four repelling the evil forces that was threatening their base of operations, and the entire city? Damn, that was a good movie, masterpiece of our time!" Jacob's speech ended, gleeful sarcasm in his words, him overacting a sense of wonder when he talked about the movies.

Kalvin looked at him and growled, picking up his jeans from the floor and tossing them onto his underarm. "You done fanboying?" He asked with a smirk and Jacob nodded sheepishly. "You know it." Kalvin scoffed, heading into the bathroom to take a shower. "Hey, Kal, watch out, water's irradiated!" Jacob shouted after him, giggling to himself, slurping from the cup loudly.

Ten minutes later, Kalvin came out wearing a Tank-Top, his torn jeans and unmatching socks. Jacob still leaned against the doorpost, his phone in one hand and his cup in the other. Snapping a quick photo, he chuckled. "Going right on Instaframe." Kalvin flipped him off, heading to his 'wardrobe' the pile of clothes on the floor behind the sofa. Picking out a long sleeved shirt with three buttons over the collar bone, he put it on, heading for his shoes, the leather high-tops got laced up quickly as he hunched down before reaching for the door. "I'm gonna go scope out the city." Kalvin said to Jacob whom nodded. "Get supplies, see if I can avoid any zombies, might buy some beer or talk with a pretty girl, we'll see." Kalvin said with a brief chuckle and the other male nodded once more.

"Uh-huh, blades n blunts don't need reloading. Try not to be out till it's too late. I've got business to attend to tonight, I could use you." Kalvin nodded in affirmation. "Yeah, I'll be home before bed time."

Jacob scoffed. "Good, be safe. Love you." He said, nonchalantly looking at his phone, slurping the last of the liquid inside of his cup.

Kalvin chuckled. "You too." Matching his friend's sarcasm. Now, he had to go out and brave the post apocalyptic wasteland that was four o'clock Larissa, probably filled with looters enjoying their newly won 'freedom' from security cameras.

[Stein]

Miles Bergeron

---

Olympus District

One night after the explosion

Lesson 3 (and final) of the Essentials of being a Hero on the Rise:--and this is one too many young Vigi’s forget--your secret identity comes first at all* costs. All* is said with the addendum that you’ve followed the first two rules. If you have, you shouldn’t find yourself in a situation too perilous to trump this rule. Unless you’ve got the luck of Cassandra, the sense of Oedipus and the stupidity of those antagonists in “Home Alone” then you should be fine.

...I hope.

That’s pretty much it, and with this landing thought, Miles Bergerons’ eyes fluttered open in a quick panic. The onlookers were still heading over, he hadn’t been out long. He couldn’t catch his breath and the short, agonizing gasps led him to believe some healing past just time and bed rest was needed.

’Mom is gonna have a field day with this…’ he began to think before his attention was taken over by a more pressing thought.

’Mr. Ozukai!’

Miles struggled over to the man, he needed to make sure the old man was still with him. Or else his days as a Hero might be changed to the beginning of a Murderer instead. Fate was with him as the man was groaning and beginning to stir. Ozukai reached out to Miles and Miles froze. This was where he began to scream for Miles’ apprehnsion.

“Thank...you...you were right,” he managed to say and Miles smiled, beside himself.

“See, it was just a cloudy night you were going through,” Miles told him. He forgot his situation for a moment, feeling he’d actually made a difference.

“Now go. Go before they get here...” Mr. Ozukai managed before trailing off. His hand weakly pushed against Miles before it went limp and he succumbed to unconsciousness. Miles bit back a rise of watery heat behind his eyes and nodded, taking off into the nearest alley.

He felt a presence grow with him as he fled, his fear rising. It was Fitz, or what Fitz could manifest of himself, concerned for Miles. The energy aided Miles, enabling him to move with the slightest bit more ease while a faint glow encased him. It was all the young Hero could manage. The darkness of the alleyway swallowed him and he was unaware of where he was really headed.

He just had to get away from the scene.

“Way to not draw attention, Miles,” he chastised himself, wandering further into the Olympus district. He needed to get home, but he had to rest. There was no way he could use Fitz to make it back to his apartment in this state. He neared a more well-lit portion of the district, his eyes straining from the sudden change. Miles stumbled gingerly into the new portion of the Olympus District.

At least Mr. Ozukai was safe, and that was a score for him, right?

[Tyler]

Evelyn Prince

---

Michaels Street, Lower East Side
The day of the blast...

---

At this time of day, Michaels Street was one of the busiest strips on the LES of Larissa. With the sun high in the sky, overalled workers from the nearby nuclear power centre would flock in their droves to waste away their lunch hour; being barely ten minutes walk from the facility, and boasting a modest offering of delis and food joints, Michaels Street really was the ideal spot for the men and women to get out of the office and a grab a bite to eat.

It was also the ideal spot for thieves. With the rhythmic waves of pedestrian traffic running on a near-immaculate schedule throughout the week, it became rather easy for would-be crooks to target at opportune moments. Evelyn Prince was one such crook who had taken advantage of the situation. She wandered along the busy strip, her eyes bound in cloth as she stumbled around feigning disability. Whilst most would consider her sight completely redundant, the young woman could actually see her surroundings with even more scope then they could imagine, and she was using this 'specialist skill' of hers to weigh up the most vulnerable target. It wasn't something she was particularly proud of, but she wasn't exactly riddled with guilt, either. Over the years she had grown used to borrowing from strangers. She found some solace for her conscience in the knowledge that she was not driven by greed, like so many criminals in the city. Evelyn was just doing what she had to in order to get by.

She soon locked on to a rather muscular man, his broad back stretching out his grey overalls and the clear bulge of a wallet pressing against the inside of his tight thigh pocket. He was faced away from her, in the midst of telling a particularly asinine anecdote to his posse; who of course, found this tasteless tale completely hilarious. The whole pack laughed and brayed like asses. He was perfect.

Wasting no time, she tripped straight into him and threw herself on the concrete. The group laughed louder, until she turned her head and feigned blindness with the Oscar-winning performance she had near-perfected. The fun stopped, half-assed apologies were uttered, and the man she had bumped into tried helping Evelyn to her feet. She used his pocket as a support to heave herself up, and once she had assured them she was okay she hobbled off down the street, rounding the corner and vanishing into the crowd... With his fat wallet tucked beneath her arm. She was neither proud nor ashamed, instead turning her thoughts to where she would be dining this afternoon.

Heading into a sandwich bar, she waltzed up to the counter and began flicking through the wallet as she waited for a server to attend her order. There was a fair bit of cash, which she pocketed; she would always pay contactless until the cards got locked, making the most out of every steal. She pulled out one piece of plastic, and discovered it wasn't a debit card at all. It was his employment ID, bearing the Michaels logo and an unflattering picture of the man she had just robbed. As she read the words 'Michaels Nuclear Power Plant', a familiar feeling washed over. A dizzying feeling, that made her feel at once dormant and alert; hyper-senseless and hyper-aware of everything and nothing. Her head felt disconnected from her body. A young woman arrived at the bar.

"Welcome to Rizzo's, ma'am, what can I get you?"

But it was too late. Evelyn knew that resistance was futile; she had tried countless times to shake off that initial sensation and stop the force that took over her in its tracks. But it was of no use, and soon enough the world around her began to fade to nothing.

Blackness. Siren whines. Keeps whining. Loud. Long. Danger. A red light becomes visible. Flashing. Pulsing. Warning. The ground is shaking. Shuddering. Grunting. The rumble of earth merges into chopping. Chopping. Helicopter flying low overhead, silhouette against the hellish red. Feel the wind on my face. I'm here. Watching but not watched. Figure falls from the chopper. Hits the metal walkway. Loud clang echoes through my head. But is absorbed swiftly by the chaos.

Man vanishes into the building. Red beam swings like a lighthouse. Rhythm. Spinning. Turning. Every rotation swishes along the brickwork. Illuminates a sign briefly as it creeps along the lettering: MICHAELS NUCLEAR POWER PLANT. MICHAELS NUCLEAR POWER PLANT. MICHAELS NUCLEAR POWER PLANT. Every time the words are lit in red for a second. Then back into blackness. Then back into red. Then back into blackness. Then back into red. Each time seeming more and more important. More significant. MICHAELS NUCLEAR POWER PLANT. MICHAELS NUCLEAR POWERPLANT. MICHAELS NUCLEAR POWERPLANT.

Huge shake. Like an earthquake. Then a wave of heat. Burst of light. Burst of flame. Wave of acidity coming over me. Washing me away. Dissolving me away. Into nothingness. The shaking stops. The light fades. Nothing anymore. Blackness.

And then, out of the blackness, emerged the face of a concerned young woman, looking directly into where Evelyn's eyes would be, were they not bound in red cloth. "Ma'am? Are you okay?" she asked, looking at Eve as though she were just another mad vagrant from the streets. Her tone was loaded with faux concern; that sneering superiority that the sane so often hold over the vulnerable. "Ma'am?"

The plastic ID slipped from Evelyn's fingers, clicking on the tiled floor. The bouncing wallet soon followed, as Evelyn turned over her shoulder to gaze out of the large storefront window. The staple silhouette of the power plant loomed unassumingly over the trees, peaceful white clouds drifting from its various towers.

"Oh, fuck," Eve gasped, as the gravity of the situation began to settle in. "Oh fuck, fuck. Fuck."

"Ma'am, I'm gonna have to ask you to leave." sneered the smug server, in her ridiculous yellow uniform. Evelyn obliged, pausing for only a moment to consider warning the girl of what was to come. Evelyn understood more than anyone else that the future was set in stone, but knowledge of what was to come at least allowed her the privilege of being able to enforce a little karma where she felt necessary. And so she left the deli not saying a word.

Better not to cause a fuss, she reasoned. Evelyn had every intention of getting as far away from Larissa as possible, and she didn't need blind panic hindering her escape from the impending nuclear disaster. But first, she had to pick up a few things from home.

***

---

112 Belgrade Way, Lower East Side
The night of the blast...

---

'Home' for Evelyn had, as of late, been a dilapidated old squat, as yet unsaved by the Michaels renovation project due to its seat on the very outskirts of town. It had taken her almost an hour to get out to the sorry site, and several more to properly plan her next steps; by now, the sun was beginning to set, and Evelyn was cautious that nightfall was only a few turns of the clock away. After that, fate was out of her hands... She had to act fast.

She'd already arranged for an Uber that would take her to the airport, where she would reluctantly part with what funds she had stashed in the old building and head to Europe. Her initial plan had been to head across the water to New Alexandria, but the logical side of her knew that this was not the time to take risks. She'd read about the ruin brought by historic nuclear disasters, and whilst she had no idea how devastating the Michaels blast would be... Well, she didn't want to take any chances.

The beeping of a horn alerted her of the cab's arrival, and Evelyn moved her gaze to an old wooden desk, upon which a golden locket lay delicately sprawled. This had, of course, been at once the reason she had called home and the reason she was reluctant to leave. Given to her by her mother on the day of her adoption, it was her most prized possession that she had managed to hide from Del's greedy eyes for a decade; her only physical souvenir of her brief time being loved. A treasure that was too valuable to walk the streets in, and far too precious to leave the country without. But it also reminded her of what she was leaving behind: it was going to be even more difficult to track down her mother from the other side of the Atlantic. And when she returned, how much of Larissa would even still stand? Would her mother survive the blast?

As the impatient Uber driver honked once more, Eve snatched the locket from the desk and fastened it around her slender neck, forcing herself to find solace in the fact that her mother might have long left the city. A lot can change in ten years... And so she headed out to the car.

A grinning, chubby white man greeted her as she got into the passenger seat. "Hey, darlin'. The airport, right?"

Evelyn nodded, not looking in his direction. "Yes, please. As quickly as possible."

He smirked, looking the girl up and down before nodding in appreciation. "Alright, princess. Let's get this show on the road." he said, starting up the engine as he glanced back at her blindfolded eyes. "And hey, don't worry about me, babe. I got my eyes on the road for the both of us." he paused for a moment, as the car pulled out and the wheels began rolling. "And I know exactly where we're going."

***

Eve had been riding in the car for about twenty-five minutes before she began to realise that something was amiss.

"You sure we're going the right way?" she asked, making little effort to sound unpresumptuous. "We should be there by now. I got a plane to catch."

The man simply grinned, pulling into an alley and shutting off the headlights. "Oh, doll, would you look at that?" he asked, smug in his assumption that his passenger was blind. "We're here!"

Eve had not even a second to react before the man was upon her, pouncing like some vicious panther as he leapt across onto the passenger seat and began smothering her with his form. Evelyn screamed in shock, but soon turned her attention to struggling back with the man. She'd lived with Del for ten years, and on the street since then. This wasn't her first time in this scenario, but it was dark now and frankly she had neither the time nor inclination to sit and take it.

She was unfazed as she heard the familiar sound of a fly being unzipped, instead fumbling around in the cardoor for anything she could use as a weapon. She found a can of anti-freeze; unexpected, considering the warm climate of the approaching summer, but it was appreciated nonetheless. She whacked him over the head several times, enough for him to withdraw momentarily; at which point she sprayed the substance into his face, leaping out of the car as he yelped in pain. She sprinted away and down the alley. Evelyn was furious at how her plan had been sabotaged by some sleaze, but there was still a chance of getting away before the blast. She just had to hitch a ride, find another car--

Bright white lights blinded her as she stepped out onto the main road. The blaring klaxon of a horn sounded. The unmistakable sound of brakes screeching against rubber squealed through the night. The weight of a moving vehicle collided with her body. There was a moment of shock as the world seemed to be pulled away from her; and then her skull hit the tarmac. All went dark.

[Stein]

Miles Bergeron

---

Olympus District

One night after the explosion

It was part miracle and dumb luck that Miles Bergeron stumbled to his apartment door. The hallway, thankfully empty, he allowed himself a breath--albeit painfully-- while finding his keys. Was this mask supposed to actually hinder his vision? Or were those tears? Miles shook his head, ripping the mask from his face and furiously pawed through his bag.

When he’d stowed it away, he’d dedicated at least one pocket to his wallet, keys and phone. His “Essentials” should all else go wrong.

The emergency seal he’d placed on his body, numbing his pain was wearing off. The seal was old, part of a stash from his Great grandmother’s Civil War medic nurse days. It’s magic was probably all leaked after this many years. But hell, it was the best he could get currently.

“Why are there so many pockets on this damn Swiss Gear backpack?” he hissed to himself, finally feeling a familiar electronic in a random pocket. Finally!

Click.

Miles’ face drooped, his bag dropping to the floor as the door unlocked and the seconds drawled on as it began to open. His mother stood before him, a stoic mixture of agonized worry, relief and biblical rage laced over her face.

’God, if you kill me now, I’ll agree to smiting duty for all eternity.’

He risked swallowing the anxious saliva that had accumulated in his mouth. A sign of weakness, and he was lost because of it.

“What.” His mother stated. It wasn’t actually a question. A question implied that the recipient had the option of not answer. This was not the case in Claire Bergeron’s presence, her arms folded. She rested slightly on one hip. Still in her scrubs, she gave off none of the warm cuddliness as the colorful cloud hippos would imply.

“I uh--” He tried lamely.

“Go ahead,” she challenged him. “Get ya lie together.”

“I only went on the roof of the Rivington Publishing tower and--” his body cut him off this time, seeing to revolt at the tale he tried to weave. The pain flared in his side, the seal worn down officially and down he began to go. A grunt finished the rest of his words as he fell to his side.

His mother’s maternal rage was overridden by the all powerful need to protect her young. She caught him, her yelp shrill in his ear though. It was painful in a way he didn’t expect. She pulled him close and cradled him for a brief moment.

“Miles!” her voice was stern, but filled with concern. She was checking to see if he was conscious, and squeezed him for a response while she carried him into the house. Though barely larger in frame than him, she was deceptively strong. “What did you do?”

He tried to answer, but everything hit him at once. The fatigue, pain, relief and fear--how close had he actually been to dying!? It all rushed Miles at once, bringing velvet black of unconsciousness in its tow.

---

When he opened his eyes, he could tell it was still dark. He was in his bed now, and felt his Hero clothes gone. A start to get up reminded him of his side and he panicked...until he realized it was no longer there.

“Oh, don’t act surprised,” a voice said beside him, “you knew I would.” His mother came into his room, a glass of water in hand. “I Scanned and found a cracked rib. A cracked rib! Miles, what the hell were you thinking?”

Miles shifted uncomfortably, that weird pain from before--when he’d heard her yelp--hit him again. “I…”

“Not to mention the general strain on your body.” She handed him the water before turning toward his bedroom window. “I know I raised your black ass to act better than this. To have more sense than this. We’ve had this talk, Miles.

He looked at the sheet he rested on, a familiar inscription seal woven into it. His mom’s handy Healing Mat. “Yes, you’re all healed up, though I debated keepin’ your as laid up. You have no idea how stupid that was of you, do you?” her voice was shrill again, though she tried to hide it.

His mom was still scared.

That pain hit Miles, but he still objected “I wasn’t being stupid!”

“Then what would you call it, Miles Alexander?” The panic in her voice was full blown now.

“I saved a man’s life tonight, ma. I did that,” Miles told her, smiling despite the moment. “You do it all the time.”

His mother’s figure softened, and her words held no anger when she spoke again. “Hun, you know it’s not the same…”

“Yeah I know, ma. It’s just…” Miles struggled to find his words. “That’s how you help the world and save people. And I just feel like…this is what I can do, at least for now.” He tried to say more but his mother’s embrace broke his train of thought.

“I was worried sick, Miles,” she whispered. “You can’t keep doing this to me.”

He knew, and he felt terrible for making her worry. But what else could he do?

The life of a Hero on the Rise is never simple.

[Nemaisare]

ANDREW

---

LARISSA | The Sound

^{May 2016 - Three Days After The Explosion}

Hello floor…

You need a vacuum…

Groaning, Andrew pushed himself off the floor he’d found much too close when he opened his eyes. He didn’t get far. It mostly turned into an exaggerated roll. And then, fancy that, he was staring at the ceiling. Not much improvement, though at least it was farther away. What had he been doing?

A smirking face came into view then, floating so very high above him, and holding a cereal box. Staring down at her prostrate friend, Janelle raised her eyebrows and shifted her foot nearby. He heard clinking. That probably wasn’t good. “You eating breakfast down there today? You do know bowls work better when they aren’t in pieces, right? What happened?”

Good question.

The first two were silly, but he could tell Janelle was trying not to make a big deal out of a worrying situation. Lifting a hand to poke at his cheek, which was aching fiercely, he grimaced at her and then held a hand out for help up. “Thanks. I dunno. Aren’t you sleeping in?”

“I was. Then you thudded.”

Right. Andrew winced. “Sorry.” He hadn’t meant to wake her, but then, it wasn’t like he’d meant to fall on the ground either. Her pointedly raised eyebrow and faint snort made him grin ruefully, aware it might have been silly to apologise for something he couldn’t help, but he couldn’t help that either. “Ah, ah, nope. No, you sit. You’re going to step on something. And you need to put ice on wherever hurts, because you definitely hit the table.”

Her sleuthing skills were not great, but he couldn’t argue the point when he realized the table had shifted about half a foot from where it was supposed to be. The skid marks helped in his assessment. And yes, the clinking he’d heard were the broken bits of the bowl he’d dropped. His only consolation was that he hadn’t landed on them. They were about due for breaking something anyway.

Shifting into the nearest chair beneath her scowl, Andrew leaned both elbows on the table and put his head in his hands. He promptly winced as soon as pressure settled on his cheek and angled himself so he was leaning to the right instead of straight on. Because ow. Unfortunate then, that they didn’t have anything extra cold at the moment. Just room temperature glasses, one of which Janelle set beside him as she returned with a dustpan and garbage. He watched her for a long moment, foregoing the usual protest in favour picking up the cheerios that were still on the table while poking, with varying degrees of resulting pain, at his cheekbone. It’d be a pretty sight by tomorrow, he was sure.

“Definitely need a new battery. My pacemaker’s been off and I keep forgetting. Should have sat back down when I started getting dizzy.” Finally, he just explained the problem. She’d probably already guessed, but she deserved to know for sure, and to hear him admit he was aware of the situation and knew he should have been paying more attention to the warning signs. Of course, the fainting didn’t always come with any warning, but when there was a sign, you really shouldn’t ignore it.

“I know, I know, it’s just been busy.” She didn’t even have to say anything, just gave him a look and he was defending himself on instinct. He knew she was right though. He should have set up an appointment as soon as he realized what had happened. This was only reinforcing the point, with emphatically bruising intent. He got the message. “I’ll ask to call from work. And I’ll take the bus in, don’t worry. I’ll take it easy. Promise.” But he did have to work. Couldn’t call in sick when the phone he needed to use was a work phone. His cell was still dead, as was hers. She’d been more concerned about her laptop, and he was just slow about these things. Honestly, the break from constantly checking it for new messages despite knowing there wouldn’t be any was kind of refreshing.

And it was always good to have an excuse not to be a bother, even if doctors were paid to deal with exactly the trouble he was bothering them about. No putting it off now. He had incentive, too. The glass was not a good substitute ice pack. Not at all. Damn it.

[Tyler]

Evelyn Prince

---

New Hampshire General Hospital, Somerset
The day after the blast...

---

"How is she doing?" asked an older man in a white coat. He was peering over the shoulder of a young nurse, who seemed to be studying the red-headed patient that lay before them, scribbling jargon onto her clipboard. Evelyn Prince could see every word scrawled out in her mind, magnified with such extremity that she could inspect each wiggly deviation within the woman's rushed handwriting. She could hear every word that was said, loud and clear, as they bounced and reverberated around every nook and cranny of her aching skull. And yet, as hyper-aware as she was of the situation she'd found herself in, Evelyn Prince could not move a muscle.

At some point in the night, her mind had woken up. She could hear the mammoth blast from the nearby Lower East Side; she'd felt the tremble of the earth as the shock rumbled through the city. She'd seen the lights flicker off and the constant beeping and humming and machinery fade, then watched the flocks of doctors and nurses pour into the ward to make sure everyone was OK. Evelyn wanted to tell them she was fine, that they should let her go. And yet, her lips would not budge an inch. So Evelyn had laid here, reflecting over what had happened. It seems that the blast hadn't been all that bad... Aside from knocking out the power, nobody in her immediate vicinity seemed to be hurt. Perhaps she'd overreacted... And look where it had gotten her. Laid out cold on a hospital bed.

"It's difficult to tell," said the nurse, who glanced up at the dead equipment intended to monitor Evelyn's vitals. "She seems relatively unharmed. She's still breathing. Her scans showed some severe abnormalities; her brain seems far more active than is typical even in completely conscious people. But until we get the power back, we can't run any other tests."

The doctor nodded, and left the room.

The ward seemed largely silent now, except for the scribblings of the nurse's pen before she, too, turned to leave. Evelyn needed to do something - anything - to get her attention; to will the nurse to notice that she was here, that she needed help waking up. A shot, a shock... Anything. There was a moment of fear that washed through Eve's body as she considered the fact that, if she couldn't make herself known, she might never wake up. The pain that had persistently stabbed at Eve's brain - she presumed from the incident - was growing more and more severe as her stress levels sky rocketed. Her head felt like a pot of boiling water about to overflow, when suddenly...

Movement. Fast and unexpected, it took Eve a second to realise that her entire bed was rolling on its wheels with considerable speed, hurtling towards the nurse. With her back turned, and Eve unable to warn her, the inevitable happened: the collision sent the nurse tumbling to the polished floor as she screamed out in surprise. Two junior doctors rushed to her aid and helped to shaken woman to her feet, as she looked at the near-lifeless body of Eve with an accusatory eye filled with horror.

"Are you OK?" one of the men asked, his arm around her shoulder. "What happened?"

The nurse couldn't take her eyes off Evelyn. It was as if something was stirring behind those closed lids; as though the body was possessed by a force less-than-innocent. She'd heard the stories of the hospital being haunted but... No, she wouldn't let herself fall for such foolishness. After a moment of hesitation, the nurse finally tore her eyes away.

"Yes," she said. "Yes. I'm fine." her voice trembled with fear. "Something must have... Fallen loose, in the blast last night. Please, get everything back in order. I... Have business to attend to."

And with that, the nurse scurried out of the room.

'What the fuck just happened?', Eve asked herself as she was wheeled back against the wall, the wheels on her bed locked into place as they had been before. The doctors smoothed over her sheets and made sure everything was how it should be, before the younger-looking of the two headed off to a separate ward. The remaining man chuckled to himself, looking up at the security camera and smiling. He knew this part of the building had no power.

"Guess it's just you and me," he said, pulling back the sheets he had just tended to and letting his hand stroke along Eve's thigh. It was at this point that Eve realised the way things were going. 'Not again,' she said to herself, beginning to panic. 'Not now. I don't need this. Not today.' her mind reeled, her thoughts tripping over themselves as the man's fingers began to slide up inside her pale green gown. She wanted to scream. Every fibre of her being demanded she do so. She had to scream.

And she did.

Her body lunged forward, her brain flooding with lava as both hands grasped her skull. As her dry mouth let out a crackling, chilling scream, she felt the pain in her head release; rather than subsiding and ebbing away, it seemed to burst out from her body in a wave of unseen energy. The doctor was knocked flying, colliding with the wall at the opposite end of the ward. Beds toppled over, spilling their patients onto the floor. Piles of paperwork and notes flew into the air as though caught by a strong wind. Glasses of water fired themselves at the doctor, smashing around him as he cowered in the corner.

And then it stopped. Staff hurried into the room to inspect the commotion; the nurse from before was among them. Her eyes swept over the room, taking in the damage before they landed on Evelyn, sat upright in her bed, eyes wide open. The second their eyes met, the ward and everyone in it seemed to melt away, as Eve was presented with a vision in which the nurse tumbled from a skyscraper in a move that didn't seem entirely accidental. She heard every bone snap as the falling form collided with the concrete, felt the wet scarlet pooling around her, before the ward came back into the view.

"Lock the doors," the nurse said. "Nobody leaves until we figure this out." Her eyes were locked on Evelyn the entire time.

"Nobody leaves."

[Stein]

"I believe all heroes have their "night". Some are glamorous, some epic. Others a small flame that burns through the dry brush of sanity and limits. Some still a torrent that washes all else aside for the desire of justice. The one thing that brings that threads through them all is fortune. A fortuitous opportunity where they are thrust into a world, or--in my case--make the decision to leap, head first, into that insatiable call to Protect and Save."

--Feral.

Source: Life's 1993 Issue: "In The Shadow of Justice: Vigilantes and Heroes"

"It All Started Somewhere"

---

---

There's a nondescript building in the midst of Larissa, with nothing incredible permeating from its walls, no notable events. Just an 8 story building, taking up half a block, abandoned for half a decade. 30 years old, sturdily built, this building holds no remarkable history. It's open ground floor has been subjected to light graffiti and the occasional homeless person, but that is about it.

Across the street from this nondescript building sits a branch of Larissa City Bank. A tribute to old architecture, the bank has been the second largest location of Larissa City Banks for close to 20 years, at the end of the last century, it was infamous for being 'owned' by the local mafia. Where as most things designed and operated by the nouveau riche tend to be gaudy and boisterous, the Larissa City Bank mixed the old with the new tastefully. A touch of modern flair and attention mixed with the classic stoutness of old money. Gothic columns and white mrable pillars adorn the front. The building itself is an embodiment of the power once held in Larissa. Its grandeur taking away from all else around it. Such is the beauty of Larissa.

That kind of beauty can tend to attract untoward thoughts and malicious intent. Countless individuals have given into this greed and malcontent, trying to stage heist after heist on the financial monument. Such so that the security and insurance company "Loren & Salander" have personally seen to the safety of such a building against almost any and all attacks, from enemies lurking in the shadows.

But what do you do when your enemy strides to the front door?

---

---

Olympus District: Larissa City Bank

10:49 PM

Allen Ventus smirked, the glint of his meticulously whitened teeth still shining in the freshly settled night. He held an empty plastic case out which he promptly dropped, a show of his success. "All camera-feed loops have been set," he announced. "Next time, give me a task I can actually push myself on."

Ren Garrow game a sall huff of acknowledgement as he stepped forward, crushing the small case. Working with a partner already didn't suit him. And then making it a show-off speedster? He wondered if he'd get any compensation for just killing the partner. But, he wouldn't have to worry long, the job was just about finished. That thought on repeat helped him maintain a level mind. "Good, now we just wait for them to kick in. Client said ten minutes, correct?"

Ventus turned and faced the Larissa City Bank. "Yep. Too bad they don't move as fast as me."

Garrow failed to suppress a grimace. Ventus was too young, not just in years, but in spirit. He thought this was a game. "Just shut up and let me charge," he ordered, shoving the 21-year old away from him. At 26, he felt he knew this game, but something didn't feel right. This heist felt...well too straightforward.

The pair stood atop that nondescript building across from Larissa City Bank and waited while the last of the non-security personnel left the building. After this night, they'd be a pair of rich men.

---Kalvin---

-That move last time you did at the end? Patriotic. I saluted ;)

Kal

-lol, I guess

Trish

-Haha, y just I guess? Not an All-American gal?

Kal

-Baby, I'm as American as a fly shitting in your apple pie :D. But yeah... prolly bc I didnt think u were THAT good ;P

Trish

-Aha! What??
-Oh yeah? Is that a challenge?

Kal

-Can you handle one?

Trish

-I'll take that as a yes. How about a "re-match"?

Kal

-...
-Only if we can step it up a notch

Trish

-...?

Kal

-How many times have you had a girl like me under the stars? ;)

Trish

-baby, I dont think I have...what do you have in mind?

Kal

-...maybe a rooftop night with beer, bike talk and...other things...?

Trish

-I've always been a fan of those...other things.

Kal

-Oh good! Meet up at 10:30? I'll send you the address

Trish

-Sounds good babe, I hope ur ready

Kal

-I always am. It'll be a night for you to remember for sure ;P

Trish

---Andy---

*(Tones)*

Ringing 1 2 3 4 5 6

"Your call has been forwarded to an automatic voice message system.--
Err..Hi yes, this is Andy Williams is not available. At the tone, please record your message. When you are finished recording, you may hange up or Press 1 for more options--

*(Beep)*

" Hello this message is for Andrew Williams. Hi Andy, it's Mackenzie Zales from Dr. Maddison's office. I hope everything has been fine with you, and you know we like seeing you at your best! We apologize at how sudden this is, but Dr. Maddison would like to invite you to a tech opening tonight--er I'm sorry, a pacemaker tech opening tonight.

Apparently it's a small unveiling and word from your insurance is that--because it's passed the experimental trial, it's covered by them! Dr. Maddison is friends with spearhead of the project Dr. Yokai and was able to get invited. If you're free tonight at 8, she would love to bring you with her so you can see the tech first hand and possibly decide to get on the waiting list.

If anything--don't tell her I said this--it's free food and alcohol, good music and you can totally probably score a to go!--but anyway...she hopes you'll join her. And should you not decline, there'll be a car waiting to pick you up at 8. She says you can call her on her cell for direct contact. Have a good one, Andy!"

*(Click)*

---Miles---

Mrs. Kasha Davis was not happy. Her original schedule had her home at least an hour ago at 9, but of course when dealing with those damn Italians, one had better just toss their plans to the wind. She shouldered her bag of red wine bottles and sighed. It couldn't be helped, they made the best wine in the city and her sangria simply did not tolerate that mass brand nonsense.

Mr. Davis had called her a number of times, though after hearing the thinly veiled rage in her voice, he'd kept his pestering to a minimum.

"Honestly," she mumbled to herself, heading out of the Little Italy part of town, "who has a computer that glitches for a full hour? Just turn it off and back on again....breeders". She shook her head furiously, checking off all the things she'd have to move around for tomorrow. The upcoming Sunday brunch could thankfully be saved, but the theme planning time was completely out of the window. "And God kill me if Beverly Lesley comments one more time on my Tuscan themes--I just can't do another Tuscan theme again, can I?" She tuttled on as she went, completely immersed in problems amounting to nothing. "..And God, he's probably going to bring that drunk Karen. She.....relieved herself in the longhorn skull last time. Can't have that again...But does that mean no sangria?"

Almost in response to her question--upon passing an alleyway-- Mrs. Kasha Davis felt a presence beside her and her step faltered. In that instant, a hand reached from the shadows of that alleyway and gripped Mrs. Davis' arm with brute force. The grip hurt and Mrs. Davis cried out in pain, her voice ringing out from years of stand up performances and stage acting. She was flung to the ground and a slender dark figure darted out ahead of her, her purse in his hands.

Well--more of a tote bag--as Mr. Davis alwasy put, poking fun at its almost comically large size. But designer was designer for Mrs. Kasha Davis, and she made sure she got proper mileage out of the piece of the storage. It was amazing the thief moved with such easy, for the bag was pretty heavy. It was currently filled with her personal effects and most preciously--

"MY WINE!" she bellowed, scrabbling to her feet. "My sangria! Oh God....MY BRUNCH!" rage met her as she took off one of her shoes and darted to the edge of the alley, poised to put her college shot put years and All-Girls State Finals aim to good use. But the perp was already fading into the distance. The further he got, the larger her frustration. Until just a few sparse seconds later...

"Which way did he go? Don't worry, I got 'im!"

[Nemaisare]

ANDREW

---

LARISSA | The Sound

^{May 2016}

Buses were boring. Seriously. Booooooring.

Ordinarily, Andrew wasn’t exactly against a chance to just sit around, exert no effort to get where he was going, and people watch. Free entertainment, right? There was some expense, but not as bad as having to pay for the gas himself. And maybe boring was too strongly neutral.

Boring implied that he wasn’t finding the kids loudly proclaiming their right to ring the bell whenever the answer to ‘Is it this stop?’ was a yes amusing. Or that the punk kid with the mohawk, were those back in? Had they left? Did he care? who kept almost skewering the girl behind him every time the bus jolted and then apologizing profusely while a taller guy beside him had to lean out of the way wasn’t absolutely hilarious. Apologetic tough guys were funny.

But what boring couldn’t cover was the reek of too many people jammed into too close a space, jostling for elbow room and not quite holding each other up through unwelcome invasion of personal space. Mornings were doable. People were tired, yawning, mostly asleep on their feet anyway, and those that weren’t still had the energy to smile and remember their manners. It was going home at the end of the work day, sweaty and grimy and probably not too sweet smelling himself, that really did in the idea of wonderful humanity.

Buses were hell.

Too strong?

Meh, he missed his bike.

And his face felt like an elephant was stepping on it. Or maybe sitting, since it was stuffy enough he was finding it hard to breathe. He just knew the bruise would be some godawful shade of lemony green and aubergine, or something pretentiously difficult to miss. He probably had a bit of a black eye, too. Dirt lining his shirt collar and in his shoes, between his sweaty toes, and it wasn’t even that warm outside. Buses had their own climate. He was tired, hungry, bruised, aching and could not wait to get a room temperature shower when he got home.

Then, ideally, he’d just have fallen face down on the couch and started snoring. Out like a light. Unfortunately, he had a prior engagement slightly more important than the upholstery. Mackenzie knew him well. Free food and good music was a pretty easy sell for him, since he was working with a low salary, and this opening couldn’t have been timed better if they’d planned it. He’d called his inbox that lunch, received the out of the blue message and promptly called Dr. Maddison.

Honestly, he’d been planning on saying thanks, but no thanks, and just booking a regular appointment, but they’d been backed up enough that this might well have been his best opportunity, and booking a surgery for a full operation to replace the lot (which might have been necessary anyway, since they wouldn’t know the full extent of the damage until after the check-up) could have taken the same amount of time as getting in first(-ish) on the waiting list.

Dr. Maddison had been able to convince him that it was at least worth checking out. She’d seemed excited, and he knew her well enough to understand that she meant it. No upselling. So, he’d said, yeah, sure, thanks, made an appointment for the next week, earliest convenience in case someone cancelled before then, and wished her a good day right back before hanging up. And now… Now he was regretting letting her talk him into it.

He just needed some ice, a few advil, and a long sleep. He didn’t need to socialize. Too late though. It was almost 6. He couldn’t cancel with only two hours to go until the car picked him up. And he’d never liked being wishy washy. He made a decision, he stuck with it. So, like it or not, tired or not, he was going. Hopefully the shower would see him feeling more energetic…

****

Showered, cleaned up, cooled off, hydrated, dinner eaten, advil taken… He was a new man. A new man who wasn’t sure what you were supposed to wear to a tech opening. Casual was probably pushing it. Ripped jeans or shorts were a no. He didn’t have a whole lot of options, though. Formal just wasn’t his thing. But he could still look properly put together. As long as he wasn’t sloppily dressed, Janelle had figured he’d be good. And, she’d pointed out, he didn’t have anything that went with his purple face either. He’d thrown his pillow at her.

Never trust a girl not to make fun of a guy having wardrobe troubles. She had helped him though, in the end, for which he’d be eternally grateful, otherwise he’d have spent the rest of his time staring into his closet, absolutely lost. Now, he had on nice, dark jeans, a blue dress shirt he couldn’t remember buying, and a jacket because, despite the bus experience, it wasn’t actually that warm, and you never knew if venues had air conditioning. Though, thinking on it now, as a car pulled up and asked if he was going to the opening, Andy? He supposed he might as well have been wondering if they’d have lights, given the most recent electrical troubles.

Ah well, as long as no one wanted him to run anywhere tonight, or move his head too fast, he could manage. He liked Dr. Maddison. And since his mood had improved, he was sort of curious about this new tech. Might be interesting, if he could understand any of the explanation. Heh. Well, time to go, he’d find out when he got there, right?

[Stein]

Andrew

08:03 PM

Andrew’s eyes would be greeted by a spacious interior, low lighting and an enticing fragrance--that scent-- that tickled his nose. The pre-poured glass of champagne with accompanying bottle and ice bucket might tickle his fancy. But alas, that damn scent would tickle his nose, causing him to breathe in more it’s aroma. Plush faux leather (Animal Rights and all that, amirite?) would invite an instant sense of relaxation giving poor Andrew no standing chance against the comfort. Tempted into sitting back and enjoying the ride and that damn scent, Andrew would breathe in more of the airborne sedative, eventually succumbing to its effects.

Frederick knew this as he pulled up to pick up the kid. Hell, it was his luxury car. He specialized in….procurement for “discrete” individuals. Where the kid thought he was going must have been an involved event, from his attire.

“Such a shame.” Frederick mumbled, as he drove to his destination. In his line of work, you got paid well. More than well, in fact. But, not to ask questions.

“I gotta find out where he got that shirt from.”

---

---

Ram

10:31

Her skin had glistened with an ethereal ebony shine, naturally smooth and soft. She’d smelled of cocoa and CoCo in complimenting parts, a blend of sweet and bodied. They’d connected briefly, but intensely, lovers for just an encounter. She was beginning to forget his voice and he didn’t know her name.

But nonetheless, she weakly let out a breathless “Have a... good night,” as he closed the door to her loft.

It was an ideal situation for him, and Arturo Ramon “Ram” Plateado left his mystery lovers loft with an irresistible smirk prominent on his face.

’Oh, it’s been a good night indeed.’

---

---

Miles

10:38

Miles tore off after the figure, a devilish grin underneath his cowl. ’Finally, some action!’ The figure was already turning down another alley by the time Miles began to keep pace, so he turned with it, delving into the waiting darkness with abandon.

He reached out with his hand and urged Fitz’s hand to extend from it, latching onto the second level of a fire escape. Pulling himself up in an arc, he extended his other arm and stretched Fitz’s right arm to grab a window sill. He made his way down the alley, closing the gap between the purse snatcher and himself.

---

---

Andrew

10:46 PM

Andrew would likely awake from the jostle from his cuffs deactivating. Their time release expired, they quickly lose power, dropping him to the floor. His formal clothes replaced with a type of carbon reinforced fitted jacket and undershirt. His pant were made of the same material.

Looking around the empty and large area, he would find it to be the open first floor of a nondescript building. Only a table with two small, square objects that appeared to be phones, sat in the room.

---

---

Miles

10:43 PM

The snatcher moved quickly, but the barriers in the alley worked to Miles’ favor as he Released Fitz’s arms and came down on top of the thief, curled and poised to deliver a kick to the criminals back.

’Stay tucked, wait until the last second---and NOW!’ He kicked out with his feet using all of his force. His feet connected with something hard and solid. He hardly stumbled while Miles landed on his back and butt, more confused than bruised.

”What the….?” He asked with a groan. What the hell was on this person?

The thief didn’t turn back to look at Miles, nor acknowledged him in any way, it simply began running again.

”Asshole!” Miles called after him as he began his chase anew. The criminal took a left, as did he. Then a right, while so did Miles. Coming out on a rather empty street, Miles noticed the figure a ways up, heading into a rather nondescript building. ”Oh yeah? Let’s do this,” Miles said to himself as he charged the rest of the way forward, determined to bring that purse back.

He burst through the room and saw a figure standing in the center of the room. His target! Tough or not, Miles was getting that purse back. He took a running start before diving forward onto his target.

[Nemaisare]

ANDREW

---

---

Nice car, friendly enough face in the driver’s seat and damn, was that champagne? Someone was splurging, and he hoped this wasn’t coming out of his wallet. Or Dr. Maddison’s. Still, as he settled into his seat, Andrew took advantage of an opportunity he hadn’t expected, shoulders slumping, back loose, feet stretched out because why not use all that leg room. But the best bit, the most excellent surprise, was the ice bucket. Who knew coincidence could be such a lovely thing?

Andrew pulled out the handkerchief he’d stuffed in his pocket out of habit more than necessity, since he tended to use them at work to clean his hands and they weren’t exactly white anymore. He then took some of that ice, grinning at the tightness of the chill against his fingers, wrapped it up in the linen square and leaned back with it pressed against his cheek. It was too late to do much good, but better late than never, and it felt like bliss anyway. It could chase away the impending headache, at the very least, he hoped.

He relaxed with his head back, trusting, perhaps more than he should have, that the driver knew where he was supposed to go, and took a deep breath of satisfaction. Maybe this thing wasn’t going to be so bad, after all.

****

He was so, so very wrong. And confused.

But mostly wrong. Extremely confused.

He didn’t land gently. He’d never been light on his feet. But when the handcuffs let him go, he was still dozing just enough that he didn’t need to tell his knees to bend. They weren’t about to hold him up anyway, and down he went.

Hello again, floor.

This felt awfully familiar. Except this floor needed a lot more than a simple vacuum. It could do with a leaf blower and a scrubbing. Maybe some bleach.

It probably wasn’t that bad, but it wasn’t his floor, and that meant he wanted to get his face off of it as quickly as possible. Thankfully, he didn’t see any feet about, so he hadn’t managed to thoroughly embarrass himself with the fainting, though that it had happened twice in one day, and he couldn’t remember getting out… of… the- Yeah, okay, no, off the floor, now! Disoriented or not. Throbbing skull or not (well, he needed the skull, but he could do without the throbbing).

He shoved himself onto his knees with a groan, motivated more by the chance to get a hand to his face and make sure it was still generally face shaped, the way it was complaining about the jostling, than by the whole, getting up off the floor thing. But he stared about him with growing concern, and took far less time to get his feet under his body and force himself upright than his head would have liked. The wall helped, the more restrictive material he was wearing did not. “Th’ hell isis?” His words slurred together in some small panic and bleary not wanting to understand as he plucked at the jacket he didn’t recognize.

“There a dress code I missed?” Joking at empty walls didn’t work as well as one might like, when one was forced to try it out for themselves. No one laughed. Not even a forced chuckle to break the ice creeping up his spine. Something was very, very wrong. But why was he wearing… Whatever the hell he was wearing? Where were his pants? His shirt? His phone?

Where was he?!

Looking around, one hand still on the wall, the other trying to hold his head together, Andrew finally saw the table. Adrenaline helped him take the first step and then he was almost racing for it, hopeful that there’d be some hint as to what was going on. Please let it be a really fucked up prank.

He didn’t make it to the table though. Halfway there and his footsteps started to echo. He turned to make sure he was still alone, because it seemed worse to go through this with someone watching, and didn’t even have the chance to register more than kid-shape before he decided, without actually thinking about it, that this was going to hurt.

“Oof!” Was now a statement of protest, pain, breathlessness, and swears. The body slammed into him. But before they could both hit the floor, their momentum pushed a suddenly lighter Andrew just that little bit farther, slipping out of the kid’s reach even as he skidded through the floor and finally fetched up on the other side of the table.

Down again, and halfway vanished into the ground, the young man glared at the ceiling as hard as his now splitting headache would allow, and slowly pushed himself back onto solid ground and sitting up, leaning on his arms and making sure he wasn’t about to get attacked again before he raised his density. But since fate seemed to be conspiring against him, or it was some kind of sign, he decided not to risk standing again. Floors were safer. You couldn’t fall if you never got up. He tended to keep that saying for the literal moments, since it was depressing as all get out, but just now, it seemed highly appropriate.

So, from his seated position, heart hammering, head trying to break open, bruised, confused but glaring, Andrew eyed this gung-ho stranger with all the suspicion he could muster. “What the hell was that for?”