Blackstripe

Heroes Reborn: Year Six (OPEN)

February 24th, 9:24 P.M.
Red Clover Pub, Gotham Harbor, Gotham City, NJ

”Feckin’ eejit,” swore Siobhan, glaring down at the cracked plate in her hand. ”I’m goin’ to run out of plates if these arseholes keep at it.”

Turning towards the short, dark skinned girl beside her, Siobhan shoved the cracked plate towards her mouth with a heavy sigh. ”Go on then, eat up.”

At least she wouldn’t have to sweep everything up with Kailani here.

As if to accentuate this fact there was another crack as the plate snapped, Kailani having not even hesitated before biting down at the plate thrust towards her. She tilted her head back to catch the extra shard in her mouth rather than the floor, and only after swallowing the first bite turned to her companion with a grin.

”I could eat one of his arms to teach him a lesson if you want. I’m pretty sure his species regrows limbs!” Kailani laughed, tilting her head back to take another crunching bite, and then another - and seemingly within seconds the plate was completely gone with the petite girl left licking her lips. Her dark eyes darted around as though looking for seconds, but soon she settled back to what she was doing originally - reading a large book open at the end of the bar. At least, pretending to read since she seemed more interested in fiddling with a lava lamp she found.

Honestly, that girl found the weirdest things seemingly from nowhere.

”Blokes come here to eat, not be eaten, Kailani,” Siobhan reminded her, glancing through the window in the back at the crowd of mythological monsters and walking nightmares that made up the vast majority of her patrons. ”Even if they’ve all likely eaten someone in the past.”

”Yeah, which makes it unfair that I can’t eat them even a little!”

Honestly, she hadn’t been intending to open a pub that was frequented primarily by freaks. She had simply thought that choosing Gotham Harbor would let her pull in the sailor crowd. Instead she had minotaurs, mages, harpies, and things she didn’t have a clue about.

At least Kailani wouldn’t feel all alone.

Stepping around the kitchen with a hot plate of fish and chips in hand, she set it in front of the burly minotaur in the red checkered shirt and blue jeans. He apparently worked as a lumberjack outside the city. ”There ya go, Rex.”

”Hi Rex!” Was the chipper addon from the kitchen, shouted as loud as possible from the small girl to be heard over the general hubbub of so many creatures in one room.

Rex raised a furry hand to wave at Kailani, nodding to the small and ever-cheerful girl before shoving the fish filet into his mouth whole as the stool beneath him groaned in protest at his every movement.

This was perfectly normal for them.

As David pulled up to Siobhan's pub, he looked over the building. There was a neon sign on it, a red clover leaf next to the name of the pub: Red Clover. 'Hey Dave, she's got a thing for red! Maybe you'll get somewhere this time.' He heard Hood say as he got off his bike. Dave pulled off his helmet, setting it down on the motorcycle and heading into the bar.

The first thing that hit him was the smell, something musty, something he hadn't smelled in a good long while, not since the One Week War: monsters. The place was packed full of them, only a handful of fellow humans around. Fair enough, ever since then the less bloodthirsty monsters did their best to assimilate into society, but he hadn't seen one since that night in Gotham five years back, and it was bringing back memories he really didn't need right now.

Shaking his head, he took a look around, spotting Siobhan walking back to the bar after handing a minotaur a plate of fish and chips. His mouth watered as he looked at the meal. It'd been so long since he had fish and chips... Hell, since he got back to Gotham, it had been a while since he had anything other than ramen cups. He wasn't sure how much it would cost, but he hoped that he'd be able to cover the cost and have a drink as well.

Done putting it off, David approached the bar and Siobhan. "Well well well, we meet again. Hopefully you won't throw me through a wall this time," he said with a shit eating grin as he took an empty seat.

Siobhan raised her head in acknowledgement as he sat down, appraising him. ”You’ll be wanting to be more specific; I throw a lot of fellas through walls in this pub. It’s part of the Clover’s charm.”

”Wait, I’m not the only guy you’ve thrown through a wall? I’m hurt, I thought what we had was special.”

Sizing him up for a moment longer, observed his rather unique-looking aura. That was when the memory of their encounter clicked in her head—faces were easily forgettable, but auras were unmistakably unique...and this man had a very special glow about him indeed.

Also, the weird flirting.

”Right, you’ll be that Red Helmet fella! I remember now. Glad ya decided to give us a visit here,” she said, offering him a smile at last. ”What can I get for ya?”

He was really wondering if she'd recognize him; after all, he had worn his helmet the whole time and the bruise he said she'd recognize him by during their last meeting had since healed... And been replaced by a few more, but that was beside the point. Still, she did, so that was a win. He was rather memorable, after all.

"It's uh... It's Red Hood but... Oh, whatever." He didn't feel like continuing to correct her, instead pulling out his wallet and saying, "I'll have a beer, and a plate of fish and chips. I really need to eat something other than cheap ramen."

”Ramen?” A pair of dark fingers appeared in the window usually used for kitchen orders to be pushed out, Kailani hoisting herself up to half hang out of it towards the bar. ”What’s that? Also, hi Red Helmet! I’ve heard about you! You’re not actually wearing a Red Helmet!”

Dave looked up in surprise at the cheerful face poking out of the window, laughing at what she said. "Uh, no, I'm not. Left it at home. Next time I come around I can bring it if you want to see."

”Well, yeah! You’re the Red Helmet!”

Siobhan smiled at Kailani over her shoulder, scribbling Red Hood’s order down onto a small note before vanishing back into the kitchen. She already had several orders on the cooker, and a batch of chips had just been taken from the frier. He wouldn’t have to wait long for his food.

It was fortunate that she knew how to cook fairly quickly, as he patrons were truly a rowdy bunch who hated to be kept waiting.

Minutes passed before Siobhan emerged from behind the kitchen with several plates on a single tray. Distributing them to her customers—of which Red Hood was the only human—she saved the gun toting vigilante for last.

”There we are—now try not to make a mess of me pub like ya did that poor restaurant back there.

David took the plate with a smile, beginning to dig in. "Holy shit, this is the best food I've ever tasted." Well, that was an exaggeration, but it was definitely the best food he had tasted in the past four years. "Seriously, compliments to the chef."

As ate his food, he looked Siobhan up and down. The woman was definitely interesting, to say the least. Ran a pub, affiliated herself with gangsters, strong enough to break through metal and agile enough to run along objects flying through the air. Certainly a renaissance woman.

"So... What's the deal with you? You a meta, or something?" he asked. "You definitely kicked my ass to kingdom come last time we met, and I haven't met anyone who's been able to do that in a while."

Siobhan shook her head, pulling up a stool on her side of the bar so that she could sit down in front of him. She’d taken care of everyone that was currently in the pub, so it would feel good to get off her feet for a few minutes. ”I’m not, nor am I a mage.”

Taking a glass from beneath the bar, she set it in between them. ”Want to see a trick?”

Without waiting for his answer, Siobhan lowered her finger to her side of the glass. Placing the tip of her index finger against its surface, it offered no resistance—nor movement—as her digit slid clean through one end and out the other. When she withdrew, there was a round hole straight through the glass.

”I’m just a normal human,” she said, smirking as she settled back on the stool.

David gave an impressed whistle, looking the glass over. Well, that was... Definitely different. "Normal human, eh? If you're a normal human, then I'm Lady Arcana," he joked, tossing another bit of fish and chips into his mouth. As he finished, he recalled something she had said in the teahouse, and continued to speak: "So, where'd you learn a trick like that? Shambaloo, or whatever you called that place where I can learn some 'real martial arts'?"

”Shambala,” she corrected him, chuckling. ”And that’s right. What ya just saw was somethin’ anyone can learn to do, if they have the right mind for it.”

She looked him over one more time, her assessment not taking a great deal of time. ”Sorry to say ya probably don’t quite have it, boyo. But don’t worry—ya still have yer meta-whatevers to fall back on, don’t ya?”

In truth, it was simply impossible for the man before her to learn chi in his current state, with his mind fractured as it was. Mastering the life energies of one’s body required you to possess harmony of both body and mind.

David shook his head. "Nah nah, I'm not a meta. I'm a different kind of enhanced." He didn't think she had heard of the League of Assassins, let alone the Lazarus Pits, so he left it at that. "Besides, don't think I even need my own abilities. Crooks might be hiring more powerful folks these days, but a bullet doesn't care about any powers you might have." He paused. "Well, unless you can shrug off bullets. Then it cares."

Kailani had disappeared from the window about half way through their conversation. Now she was peering over Siobhan’s shoulder, lava lamp abandoned beside a harpy nearby.

”I can shrug off bullets!” The dark skinned girl chirped, pleased to share this information before poking Siobhan’s back. ”You going to eat that?”

David jumped slightly when the girl spoke up, having forgotten she was there. He quirked a brow at her comment about being able to shrug off bullets, wondering if she was some sort of kung-fu master like Siobhan or a metahuman. "So, uh... Who are you?" he asked her.

The girl glanced up to Dave, offering him a toothy grin that showed unnaturally white teeth. ”Hello! I’m Kailani, resident dish … washer?” She paused, puzzling over the word before shrugging. ”Close enough!” And with that she grabbed the glass, promptly biting into the ruined material and swallowing.

”You should try the shot glasses, they’re the tastiest.”

David blinked in surprise, looking at the glass which had a clean bite into it, and back at the girl who just ate it like it was nothing. "I... Think I'll pass on that, thanks."

”No one ever tries the shot glasses.”

”It’s true, Kailani’s undefeated with a record of zero and zero—nobody’ll accept her challenge,” said Siobhan having now started gathering discarded glasses and plates to be cleaned in the kitchen. ”She’s not a metahuman either, by the way.”

"So, what, she a kung-fu fighting martial arts master like you, or something else?" he asked, before pausing. "Oh, I know, she's an alien," David chuckled, shaking his head.

Siobhan looked surprised for a brief moment, before setting down her tray full of empty glasses and plates and reaching into her pocket to fish out several dollars, offering them to Kailani. ”He actually guessed it! I can’t believe not one fella guessed alien this past month!”

David's grin fell, giving way to a dumb look of shock. "... Wait, I was right? I was just cracking a bad joke!"

”Jokes count!” The small girl shot back, only to grab the money offered to her. ”Ye~s, that’s just enough!” Kailani crowed, happily counting out the fistful of dollars.

She promptly began eating them one by one.

David blinked again. "... Well... I guess an alien wouldn't know what to do with money except eat it."

Several hours later…

David took a hearty chug from his latest glass of beer, taking in a deep breath as he took the empty glass away from his mouth and slammed it down onto the bar. After their conversation had trailed off he had started drinking his beer, and after that he ordered another one, and another one, and another one... And now it was midnight, and David was pretty thoroughly slammed. "Ey, need a-*hic*-clean up."

”Ya do, that’s for sure,” said Siobhan, glancing about the pub. At this point, everyone had gone home besides Dave. All that was left before she closed up for the night was cleaning up everyone’s mess. Or rather, having Kailani eat her way through the leftovers and broken dishes.

”Don’t forget to clean up the corner tables,” shouted Siobhan, watching as the small girl devoured the scraps of their patrons. Her bright, green eyes then slowly slid towards Dave. ”We’ll be closin’ here soon. Might want to get yourself home.”

David hiccuped again, glancing at Siobhan with baggy eyes. "Hey, home is... Home is where the heart is, man. And right now my heart is here, I fuckin' love this place!" He stood up and stuck out his arms to gesture towards the entire room, only to collapse back into the seat with a groan, a hand flying up to massage his temples. "... On second thought, home... Home sounds good."

He stood up again, this time making it a bit further before finally collapsing. He stuck his hand up and gripped a nearby chair, pulling himself up slightly. "... On second second thought, do you have like... *hic* A place where I can sleep? I'll be ou-outta your hair in the morning."

Siobhan released a heavy sigh, shaking her head. Stepping out from behind the bar, she made her way across the mostly-vacant bar to a door on the far wall. When she opened it, a room filled with cleaning supplies was revealed. Turning back to Dave, she thumbed over her shoulder. ”Yer sleepin’ in the janitor’s closet then. We don’t have any extra beds.”

They weren’t a motel, after all.

David managed to pull himself up off the ground, stumbling into the janitor's closet and collapsing into a bucket of cleaning supplies. "Aw man... Thanks, so much..." After a moment of silence, he laughed. "Hey, you know what'd be, like, really cool? We could form a-*hic*-form a vigilante team! Like, fight bad dudes and stuff for money or somethin'... That'd be... That'd be cool." Before he could hear whatever reply Siobhan would give, Dave passed out, and Hood was already terrified at the hangover they'd face in the morning.

Glancing to Kailani, Siobhan slowly rubbed her arms in other to stave off the ever mounting chill in the air. ”Hope he doesn’t freeze to death—it’s February, after all.”

”What? Oh, right, humans like being warm. Don’t worry, I got this!” The short girl scampered off with the last of the plates, returning quickly after depositing them in the kitchen. However rather than retrieve something like a blanket, she just jogged to the janitor’s closet. By the time she reached it, a large, clawed hand reached out and grabbed Dave to drag out - and Kailani promptly curled around him, large and imposing.

”Goodnight, Siobhan! Goodnight Red Helmet!” Came the happy goodbye… or at least, what it would’ve been if it didn’t come out sounding like a combination of growls and chitters.

Her lips slowly turning upwards into an affectionate smile, Siobhan waved. ”G’night, Kailani.”

In the morning, David woke up to a pounding headache, but he felt... Surprisingly nice and warm aside from that. He felt something wrapped around him, and, bleary-eyed, turned to the thing he felt pressing up against his back... And came face to face with some large monster, which also seemed to be sleeping. David's eyes widened slowly, before finally, he realized what he was looking at.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!"

Heroes Reborn: Year Six (OPEN)

Looks good! Approved!

Heroes Reborn: Year Six (OPEN)

February 28th; 9:15PM
One Week Year Veterans Benefit Gala, Imperial Gotham Hotel, Gotham City

Karen, it seemed, had had the last laugh.

While she had got to enjoy a quiet, comfortable ride home to what was going to be at least a four-course meal prepared by a world-class chef… Mal had been abruptly handed a change of clothes and told he was coming here. To sip non-alcoholic champagne, hover over the hors d'oeuvres table and try to at least look the part of the high-class, Gotham Socialite he was expected to be while using every once of his considerable willpower to not just cram every single one of those tiny, fancy sandwiches into his starving gullet.

That’s not to say he really hated these charity events mind you-- it was for a good cause, after all --But having this whole thing abruptly dropped on him after twelve hours on a goddamn submarine was a bit much.

He could feel that ol’ Kasimir Brow twitch involuntarily in unbidden irritability, even as he not-so-subtly wolfed down another one of those tiny sandwiches and chased it with a gulp of his fake wine.

Such was the life of Malcolm Talhaiarn-Kasimir.

Well, at least he seemed to be left to his own devices for the time being- something he was particularly grateful for, after not only the voyage, but the past month of ’work’ beneath the ocean. Hell, aside from the customary joking ’Hail to the Little Chief!’ shouted from the Vanguard table he’d gotten used to hearing over the years when he arrived and stopping to shoot the shit with them before his hunger got the best of him and he headed to the big fancy table of fancier food… he hadn’t actually run into anyone else.

Which was weird, because usually he couldn’t take a breath at these kind of functions without someone aggressively all-but-humping his leg to try and gain his mom’s favour... Or take his picture... Or try and marry him off to their kids in some weird dynasty-building gambit...

Weird, but not at all unwelcome.

Still a little odd to be alone at the hors d'oeuvres table of all things, he couldn’t help but think, as he finally took his mind off of his empty gullet for the first time since getting here and actually bothered to look around, pay attention and-

”OOOHOHOHOHO!”

”What.”

Came Mal’s very audible, very sensible and very much ignored sentiment to that… particular piece of vocalization that assailed his ears and danced across his vision like ripples on a pond as he finally turned around and solved that riddle of where exactly everyone had gotten off to-

Crowded around a single woman on the opposite side of the room, apparently.

Literally.

Everyone.

Even the mice no one else seemed to notice.

”What the hell.”

Again, Mal’s thoughts made themselves known out loud. And again, there was no one paying attention to take offense to them. Not that he minded the lack of anyone around to hear his big social faux-pas, but odd he found it all the same. And it grew more odd the more he looked at it.

Namely, the fact that while seemingly the entire guest-list minus him was crowded around this mystery-woman, they weren’t actually mingling with eachother at all, eyes focused solely upon her save for the very subtle, occasional elbowing they did to work their way deeper into the messy mass of people.

The fact that the pleasure-centres of their brains seemed to light up in a way that struck him as particularly unnatural also stuck out. Moreso that it seemed exactly proportionate to how close to the woman they were.

And that the woman herself wasn’t quite… right. In a way that he couldn’t quite put down in words.

That bore investigating.

So, Kasimir Brow rising to full mast as he finished what was left of his fake booze and set the glass down, Mal stuffed his hands into his pockets and quietly made his way over, a mixture of curiosity and suspicion beginning to make it’s way onto his face.

...And even more quietly, the mechanisms in his psyche that made up the other half of his life began to spool up in caution.

The woman at the epicenter of the crowd, rather than being overwhelmed by all of the attention being rained down upon her, seemed quite at ease and even comfortable, if perhaps a little bored. With a glass of champagne in her hand, she quite casually addressed the crowd, which seemed to hang on her every word.

”This is why events such as these are so important—even now, five years after that terrible conflict. Millions are still without food or water throughout the world, with little being done to correct this injustice,” she said, her kind words delivered with a level of haughtiness that most would consider insincere, though it wasn’t clear if that was truly the case.

Despite the way she held her head high, her nose practically pointed down at the gaggle of guests surrounding her, there was no sense that they found her attitude the slightest bit off-putting. Quite the contrary, in fact.

”I expect you all to do your very best to support this most important of causes, as Herlua Enterprises will assuredly do,” she continued.

Frowning slightly at this young lady’s downright lordly attitude, Mal’s eyes travelled to his left… and then to his right to gauge the reactions of the party-goers around him and found that, contrary to conventional wisdom that seemed to scream that they should be just a tiny bit put off by her non-chalant haughtiness and body-language that painted in great detail just how little she actually wanted to be there, the whole lot of them seemed ready to heave her up on their shoulders and carry her directly to her own coronation on her very next breath.

All this paired with that… laugh from the woman he was still not entirely convinced was human earlier only served to make this whole thing seem even more ridiculous.

”Riiiiight…” Mal mused flatly, though quietly as he calmly plucked a glass of actual champagne off the tray of some server who wasn’t paying attention anyway and downed the whole thing. ”Right when Karen ain’t around. That figures.”

Because he had a pretty good idea of what exactly he was dealing with by this point-

Magic.

As if he had unintentionally summoned her attention through his ruminations, the woman’s head turned towards Mal, her sharp blue eyes centering on the scar-faced boy. Smiling subtly, she stepped through the crowd towards him—which obediently parted for her with the same expression of awe.

”I say, aren’t you Malcolm Kasimir? Yes, of course—your face is unmistakable,” she said, offering him a hand. ”It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance; I am Aelia de Herlua, of Herlua Enterprises, as I’m certain you’re aware.”

From his peripheral and his view of the crowd behind the young heiress, Mal’s brain began analyzing their reactions in less than half the time it took her to actually reach him and offer him her hand.

Shock.

Jealousy.

Something akin to heartbreak.

Just a touch of anger.

Just a bit unsettling, to say the least, as his left hand carefully began to rise out of his pocket to subtly hang at the ready by his side. Even as that famous little charming Kasimir Smirk of his that had become his trademark over the years played off his face to keep up appearances.

He was better off playing along until he actually knew what was going on here, he figured- he’d rather not be ripped limb from limb by a frenzied mob on his first day home, after all.

”Pleasure’s all mine, Miss de Herlua.” The boy responded, shaking the woman’s hand and trying to ignore the spike of firing neurons the act elicited in the crowd around them. Before casually indicating at the windows and the raging storm outside with his thumb. ”I trust you haven’t been too troubled by our traditional ‘Gotham Welcome’, have you?”

Aelia craned her head towards the window ever so slightly, before focusing again on Malcolm. She seemed almost perplexed by his question, though it wasn’t apparent why. ”Oh, no—the weather seldom troubles me. Are you...feeling quite alright? Is something the matter?”

The haughty expression she had worn since he had initially laid eyes upon her had been replaced with one of mild concern, as if she was looking at somebody who was visibly ill.

Again, Malcolm felt that Kasimir Brow of his raise slightly as he scanned the mish-mash of whirling… something before him that made up ‘Aelia de Herlua’, starting to look honestly perplexed himself.

Whatever else was going on here, that last remark seemed… genuine…

’Waaaaait a second…’

Those afore-mentioned mechanisms in his psyche began to wind down slightly, and that charming smirk fell slightly off that battle-scarred face of his as something suddenly occurred to him-

Was she… even aware of what was going on in the heads of the people around her?

”I’m… fine?” The boy finally answered after a moment’s silence, brow still raised, though it came back down again as he fell back into his usual wry charm ”Spent twelve hours on a submarine before I got here next to my grumpy, seasick friend, mind you, but I’m alright.”

At that, he couldn’t help but turn his head slightly to the side in an involuntary expression of curiosity.

”...Why do you ask?”

Aelia’s mouth opened as if to speak, but closed almost immediately afterwards. She seemed to be struggling to find the appropriate words, or explain the root of her concern. After several moments passed between them (with the crowd growing ever more restless with her diverted attention), she finally spoke.

”It’s just...you’re...conversing with me?” she said, her words still laced with uncertainty. ”No, but of course you are...it’s simply...I...do not know how to describe it. Did I do something to offend you?”

”...Wait, what?” At that, just a tiny bit of the real Mal bled through just a bit as a little chuckle bubbled it’s way up from his chest, setting off another wave of heightened reactions from the crowd he was quickly starting to ignore more and more as this played out. ”I know I don’t exactly have the gentlest features in the room, but I don’t look that mean, do I?”

His head tilted to the side slightly as he continued.

”Why would I be offended?”

”I...do not know,” she answered honestly, glancing over her shoulder at the crowd. This resulted in their collective faces lighting up, only for their joy to quickly vanish when she returned her focus to Malcolm. ”The only ones to ever converse with me in such a way were my family, and one particularly strange woman.”

Her awkward manner of speech made for quite the contrast to the earlier confidence that had practically dripped from her every word—not that one could tell based on the crowd’s enraptured stares.

As she looked away towards the crowd, the Kasimir ward’s eyes followed her stare, reading the room as she did, but having his own obvious means of gauging the situation and forming his own conclusion.

Eyes flicking back to the heiress in question, the boy took just the tiniest step forward (an action that sent shockwaves throughout the crowded room that he merrily ignored) and leaned in slightly, speaking low and without the filter he’d kept up this entire time.

”Just a hunch, but not one of these people have actually said anything to you all night outside of greetings and praising the very air you breathe, right?”

Aelia’s jaw dropped at this, her eyes once more darting to the crowd behind her. ”Well, of course not! They’re not my family, after all—why would they speak to me in such a way? Rather, the more appropriate question would be why you’re speaking to me in such a familiar manner?”
As her tone shifted, as did the crowd’s mood, something Mal couldn’t rightly ignore this time around as his hands folded neatly behind his back… and his thumbs travelled up his sleeves slightly to thumb at some unseen device.

A sharpness had returned to her words with this, perhaps brought about by his own blunt assessment of the situation.

’Ooookay, Mal… you’re playing with fire now…’ Came Mal’s thoughts as his brow furrowed slightly, eye’s briefly scanning the room but otherwise showing no outward sign of having any intention of backing down.

”Because that is not speaking, that is idolatry.” He explained, as if he’d been asked to tell her that water is wet, motioning towards the increasingly tense crowd with his chin. ”And as far as I can tell, I’m the only one you’ve actually talked to all night.”

At his tone, the people around them became more and more incensed and more than a bit of growling and muttered cursing mixed with threats had started to permeate the air… though a few of his Vanguard friends seemed to plateau from whatever had a hold of their minds and rapidly come back down as the reality of the situation seeped in.

That was reassuring, maybe he’d survive this after all.

Maybe.

Raising his brow slightly all the same in defiance of his circumstances, Mal concluded.

”...But if this is so offensive to you, I’ll happily show myself out.”

Aelia looked back at the crowd, raising a hand to calm them. ”Now, now, everyone—it’s quite alright. He has a right to speak his mind, of course.”

The crowd seemed to react immediately to her placation, growing outwardly calmer—albeit with a lingering fury behind their eyes. Apparently satisfied with this, Aelia returned her attention to Malcolm. ”I am not offended, simply...taken aback, I suppose. You are a very strange man, Malcolm Kasimir. I will remember this meeting between us, in case it is not the last.”

As the crowd seemed to calm down, Malcolm’s hands fell back into his pockets in a clearly relaxed posture… and more subtly the slight subsonic ringing that had been slowly building up in his sleeves, drowned out by all the commotion abruptly ceased.

”Ditto.”

The boy stated simply, relieving a now particularly grumpy server of another glass of champagne that he abruptly downed as he turned to leave.

”...And that’s Talhaiarn-Kasimir.”

Heroes Reborn: Year Six (OPEN)

It hurts. A searing pain on his shoulder. The burning in his nostrils, in his lungs.

There’s so much weight on his chest, it makes it hard to breathe. A grotesquely sweet aroma pierces into his senses from every which way. It makes him want to gag.

Why can’t he move?

Why is it so dark?

So quiet?

He’s scared. He can’t help it. He’s only a kid.

So he does what any kid would do-

“Dad!”

And begins to scream.

…

...Nothing.

“Dad!”

Louder this time.

More nothing.

He struggles, shifting and churning with all the might his tiny frame can muster, but to no avail. Whatever great weight is above him, it appears to have it’s arms wrapped around him as well. Hugging and pinning him to the ground.

This revelation only makes him struggle harder, fueled by some primeval terror he desperately resists against his bonds, growling and snarling in both anger and fear as he thrashes like a caged animal until finally… something moves.

Like a dead weight, something hits the ground where he now registers as outside.

Light pours in, blinding the boy who already thought himself as such as something cold and wet and horrible slides down onto his cheek.

He eyes burn even more now, but he doesn’t care. He’s too busy sucking in all this new oxygen he can like it’s the last he’d ever have.

When his eyes begin to come back to their senses the first thing they see is… cloth.

Olive drab.

A nametag.

‘Talhaiarn’.

On queue, the panicked haze that hung over his mind begins to retreat. Something wet is still pressed into his cheek.

He finally recognizes the smell of burning meat.

A new terror wells inside of him, more visceral and destructive than the last as tiny whimper, a pathetic impersonation of a proper sound escapes his now trembling frame.

“D… Dad?”

He hears nothing.

So he does what any kid would do-

And begins to scream.

---

Backroom, Argos Gymnasium
February 10th, 2:45 P.M.

Very suddenly, Mal was up. Well, not really; more crooked or sideways than anything, if you were to stop and think about the dynamics of falling asleep at your goddamned desk.

”Whuddafuggin… wha?” Came his… very sophisticated response to the world that came crashing back into existence around him in that moment- punting aside… that and replacing it with what he’d been told was a dark room in the back of Persephone’s gym, but still looked like the same hodge-podge of fiery translucent shapes he saw everything else as. ”What in the goddamn…?”

His eyes blearily trailed over his desk until they fell upon his clock, an old thing with a display made of nixie tubes he’d made in the Grotto a few years back, when such a thing was much easier on his eyes than a digital display would be. In that he didn’t have to squint nearly as much just to see the numbers.

What he saw didn’t exactly fill the lad with cheer. And only had a little to do with him being unsure as to whether waking up at such a time meant he’d slept in or stayed up late.

”Aw, fer fucks’ sake…” The scarred boy grumbled and groaned as he got to his feet, an action met by just a little more pops and cracks in his joints than usual due to the awkward sleeping arrangement. ”...That’s pleasant.”

He’d guess he had it coming, though; sleeping hadn’t exactly been on his mind since the raid; after he’d moved out of the dorm and started shacking up here, he’d been hunched over his desk, disassembling and examining all that peculiar weaponry he’d pulled off some of the suspects at Aquarius Apartments. And had being on and off the comm. Throughout the day comparing notes on that pill Karen had analyzed with one of his old contacts in Atlantean Intelligence, ‘Moray’.

Not that Persephone hadn’t left him a bed mind you. An extremely plush and comfy bed with blankets her mother knitted just for him. He just… kept forgetting to use the damned thing.

A small snort escaped him at that.

He was Zoey’s boy, after all.

Groaning to himself, the still sleepy sometimes-dog-sometimes-shark-themed vigilante half-walked, half-staggered over to the mini-fridge past his twin duffel bags to find something cold to guzzle down his Sahara-dry throat.

”Welp… at least it’s quiet in here…”

---

Argos Gymnasium
February 10th, 2:49 P.M.

Karen would be lying if she claimed to be in top form right now. Her wrist was in a brace after being struck by that thug during the raid, her back hurt arguably worse than the night it had been injured (she hadn’t bothered to go see a doctor yet), and on occasion she would still get dizzy spells.

All in all, she felt like shit.

Nevertheless, the thing she was worried about the most was Mal. She hadn’t seen him since that night—that very, very worrisome night. It hadn’t taken her long to figure out where he likely was, since that seemed to be his fortress of solitude in Atlantis, but she had decided to give him a couple of days to himself before she went after him. After all, everybody needed to be alone with their thoughts at times.

She had caught Ophelia up to speed on everything that had transpired that night, while making sure to omit everyone’s true identities. She had never expected Orin or Virgil to show up there that night, and unless it was merely a hallucination brought on by her head trauma, she thought she had even seen Bjorn of all people.

The fact that Virgil had apparently been a metahuman wasn’t such a big deal, given the number of them attending Uni with her. What was more surprising was the fact that he had botched their raid. She could tell her little brother was livid; she knew his anger well.

Still, she knew leaving him alone for too long wouldn’t be good, either, and so she had decided to check up on him. For better or worse.

”MAL!” she called out, leaning slightly against the boxing ring in the center of the gym. ”I know you’re here somewhere, so come out.”

---

”Oh, fer fuck’s sake…”

Mal knew that voice. It was literally impossible for him to forget it thanks to that infuriatingly powerful brain of his, but some part of him hoped in that moment that that he was wrong. That this was some kinda ploy by someone trying to kill him.

A quick glance over his shoulder from his position in front of the mini-fridge confirmed that that was, sadly, not the case.

He’d been dreading this encounter- and he knew it was coming- for a few days now. It was part of the reason he’d been such a hermit as of late. But he knew for a fact there’d be no escaping now.

There weren’t exactly any windows in this room after all.

Arm still reaching into the fridge, his hand subconsciously and oh-so-briefly hovered over a bottle of Poseidonian Brandy Persephone had gotten him for his birthday. But after a moment’s pause, drifted over and grabbed a can of cold coffee instead, quickly pulling it out and then grabbing a second after just a moment’s hesitation before shutting the door. Standing upright again and turning towards the door with a grimace.

Well at least it was a local holiday, so the gym was empty.

Small blessings and all that.

With uncharacteristic dread, he let out a little sigh and then opened it, stepping through with a purposefully neutral expression and clearing his throat.

”Karen.”

”Mal!”

Karen smiled, immediately jogging over to her little brother and pulling him into an embrace. She had been worried about him. Worried that he might have been dealing with his stress by fighting criminals again. He really was similar to Zoey like that.

”Are you doing okay? You really stink, haven’t you been bathing?”

”Yeah… yeah, I’m fine.”

The boy in question stated, hesitating for a few seconds before returning the hug, half because he had been so sure she had come here to aggressively mine his brain about what had happened in the Penthouse that night, and half because Karen’s particular anatomy these days literally prevented his ribs from expanding when she was hugging him like this and made it almost impossible to breathe. Before gently pushing her back and gesturing towards a nearby bench as he handed her one of his cans of coffee.

...Seriously, how the hell did she function with those things attached to her chest?

”And sorry about the smell- I’ve been pulling a ‘My Mom’ and burning the midnight oil the past few days- Going over the evidence, doing research... all that fun stuff.” The younger teen continued, popping open his own can and taking a seat. ”...How’s the noggin?”

A stupid question, perhaps, seeing as both of them knew he could see for himself, but it made for half-decent shop talk all the same.

”Been better,” Karen admitted, reaching up to feel the still-sore place where she had been struck. It, too, had hurt worse the next day. It was a persistent theme with all of her injuries.

Rolling her shoulders a few times as if to illustrate her condition, she smiled when they crackled and popped with the motion. ”I’ll manage, though. How’s your noggin been?”

She tried to not sound accusatory this time, wanting to keep the mood fairly light. Even so, she wasn’t going to pretend that night hadn’t happened. She had learned that running away from and ignoring your problems probably wasn’t the best solution—particularly now that she was starting to realize just how mean she had been to people during that period.

”Throbbing. Maybe a little groggy.” Mal answered, tacitly evading the obvious question just as casually as the Kare-bear had put it forward. ”Though that’s probably just the famous Kasimir insomnia… or napping with my head on a steel desk. One or the other.”

With a dash of self-deprecation thrown in just for good measure, it seemed.

He took a sip of his drink, trying to wake himself up.

Maybe it was that the boy hadn’t quite forgiven Karen for her conduct as of late. Maybe it was from some measure of shame that someone like him, whose entire life damn near revolved around harsh discipline and self control, had absolutely lost it when he had had a job to do, or some measure of guilt that he hadn’t been there fast enough to keep the blonde out of harm’s way.

Maybe it had something to do with the fact that he had never exactly enjoyed these ad-hoc therapy talks when he was a kid and didn’t imagine he was about to start now.

One thing was made abundantly clear, though-

Mal had no intention of making this easy for the young Wizard.

Karen had expected as much—Mal always had a tendency to be evasive when something was bothering him. If there was one thing about her little brother that frustrated her more than anything, it was his tendency to retreat into his shell when things got rough. But hey, who was she to talk about that right now?

”And here we thought going to college would be a chance to relax,” said Karen, grinning. ”But it seems that, for the moment at least, Lady Arcana is out of my life, whether I want her to be or not.”

Despite her many, many attempts to do so in various locations, Karen had been utterly incapable of transforming back into her Wizard form. It was a distressing development, after having spent so much time in that state. Worse, it wasn’t like before, when she was “severed” from the Rock. She could still feel her connection, her powers were all technically still with her.

She was just unable to speak the word to summon them. It was like constantly having an idea on the tip of your tongue, but never being able to spit it out.

At that, Mal cast a sidelong glance at the girl and raised that Kasimir brow of his over his can of caffeinated dairy he probably didn’t want to know the manufacturing process of.

”That’s probably the first time I’ve ever heard someone actually say they went to University specifically to relax.” The boy remarked with a little shrug and snort ”Buuuut, I can sorta see your point; It didn’t take long for all of that to go to shit right quick, didn’t it?”

Thinking on her second point, however, his glowing eyes locked in on her neck and jaw. Pupils dilating and shifting in size back and forth as his vision began filtering away the haze of all the background noise to solely focus in on the nerves, musculature and connective tissue therein.

”But yeah, about that; that night you were saying… you ‘Couldn’t say The Word’...?” Mal inquired after a few seconds of silent examination ”What exactly did’ja mean by that? Like, are you under one of those silencing hexes you’ve told me about, or do the words just not come out right?”

Karen frowned and shook her head. ”Whatever this is, it’s not a silencing hex. Those have a very specific ‘feel’ to them. They can either steal your entire voice, or just target a specific word or series of words. Should you try to speak them, you’ll feel as if you have a hand on your throat, preventing you from doing it.”

But that wasn’t at all what this felt like. She had felt silencing hexes many times before, and this was more like….

”It’s like I won’t let myself say it, if that makes sense. Like, sometimes my lungs refuse to pump the air I need to say the word. Other times my vocal chords shift too high or low, or I’ll sneeze. It’s literally like my body is fighting against me whenever I try.”

And that was what made it so truly frightening for her. It felt like she didn’t have full control over her actions anymore. LIke there was a puppet master pulling her figurative strings from the inside.

”I’ve honestly never heard of a spell like this.”

At this Mal just pursed his lip, idly rotating the can in his hand in thought as he scratched his chin (which it took him until now to realize had started to grow a bit of stubble).

”So would I be right in assuming this means you have no access to the rock right now?”

Karen nodded. ”Pretty much, yeah. If I could make it to the Rock, I might be able to try something, but...”

”-It’s a magic rock floating somewhere in space very, very far away.” Malcolm finished for her with his usual flat snark. ”Yeah, that kinda figures…”

Leaning back and shifting his neck from side to side to work some of the usual kinks out of it, the boy paused for a moment, racking his brain for an answer he knew he didn’t have.

Ad-hoc Doc he was when the situation called for it, Wizard Apothecary he was decidedly not.

”Welp… if there were any good places to come down with Wizard Problems, Poseidonis is probably it.” Mal started finally, enunciating with his hands ”I mean, we are sitting in the capital of the oldest civilization on the face of the planet; Shot in the dark- maybe there’s a book about what you’re going through somewhere in the Royal Archives.”

Taking a final swig of his drink, and deftly tossing the empty can in the garbage can across the room behind them, he continued.

”In the meantime, we’re probably actually going to have to start taking your PT seriously.”

Karen cupped her chin at his suggestion. It wasn’t a bad thought—checking the libraries around the city for any information. It couldn’t hurt, at least. She was unlikely to come up with any answers on her own.

PT, on the other hand, was another matter entirely.

”Will that really be beneficial to me?” she asked him. ”I don’t think my body is built for combat, and it can’t gain muscle or really change in any significant way.”

”PT includes sparring, Karen. You don’t need to be the damned Wizard to avoid getting knocked on yer ass in a fight.” Mal replied abruptly and with a little snort. ”I mean, shit, I managed well enough when I was eleven years old, ninety pounds soaking wet and powered by food out of a dumpster. I’m sure between the two of us, we can figure something out.”

Karen paused for a long moment, but ultimately smiled. She still wasn’t certain it would make much of a difference for her in this state, but...at the very least she would enjoy spending time with Mal again.

”Alright, alright,” said Karen. ”I’ll do my best to learn how to better defend myself without superspeed.”

She then shot him a pointed look. ”And don’t think you’ve avoided talking about the other night! I just decided to give you a little more time, since things have clearly been rough on you.”

At that, whatever smile had been on Mal’s face abruptly wilted slightly.

He’d honestly forgotten about that the second he started talking shop again, ever his mother’s boy. He wasn’t entirely sure whether he should impressed or annoyed at the constant one-track state of his brain.

’Welp, nothing for it…’

Shifting slightly and calmly pulling his feet up to sit cross-legged on the bench, facing the woman now, the younger of the pseudo-siblings calmly rested his cheek on his fist and fixed the blonde with that same practiced neutral expression as before.

”You’re right. I haven’t… not that I was trying, mind you.” He said finally, after a moment’s staring down. His tone losing that semi-jovial edge it had before with each passing word. ”And I imagine me explaining my own deep-seated awareness at my own failings isn’t going to do anything to dissuade you from giving me the lecturing we both know is coming, so we might as well get this over with now rather than later when we’ll probably actually have shit to do.”

And again, his brain somehow managed to find some way to tie this to work.

It was almost frightening how much Zoey there was in the lad.

Karen shook her head slowly at his words, releasing a heavy sigh. ”I’m not going to lecture you, Mal. I was just hoping you could explain what went down that night—why it happened, and how we can maybe prevent it from happening again. We’re not little kids anymore...so instead of shaming you or making you apologize, I just want to find a way to help you.”

”Just like you want to help me with my own problems.”

That’s what family was for, after all, right? That was the sort of family she had always wanted: one that looked out for one another.

Mal slowly felt his face slide into his palm at Karen’s words; it would’ve actually been easier if she had been about to lecture him.

Then he could just be angry. Instead of… whatever the hell he was feeling right now.

”’Prevention’...? You mean keeping my head in check, right?” He finally said, resting his chin on his fist once more, eyes looking everywhere but at Karen in, funnily enough, almost exactly the same way they always had whenever the two of them ever had these talks when they children. ”Truth be told, until that night, I’d honestly thought I’d had that pretty well locked down -For me, it’s kind of a necessity- but, well... I was clearly mistaken.”

His mouth opened and closed a few times, clearly waiting for that powerful brain of his to catch up, whenever it got around to finding the correct words.

Wetting his suddenly very dry lips and finding another object either in the room or beyond to focus in on, he continued.

”My… gift... or whatever ya wanna call it… is basically a non-stop barrage of information. It runs day and night, whether I’m sleeping or not; Soundwaves. Electromagnetic currents. Ultraviolet and Infrared band radiation. Constantly replaying memories of every little thing I’ve ever seen or heard in the past six years and a whole bunch of other shit I’m not even sure about… so pretty well every second of every day, I’m basically multi-tasking between trying to make sense of it all and actually functioning like a human being.” The boy explained in a rare moment of openness. ”Hell- even just to talk to you right now, I not only have to think of, rehearse and repeat every single word in my head over and over again just so I can be absolutely sure my mind doesn’t outrun my mouth, but also clamp down on my own eidetic memory so I can actually see and hear you now over the memories of everything I’ve ever seen, heard or even remotely associated with you in the entire time I’ve known you. You just can’t really tell because my brain processes it all that quickly.”

A profoundly uncomfortable exhale followed this, but he continued all the same.

”But then there are… moments of clarity. Where that fucking mass of neurons and weird in my skull starts working together in a way that actually makes sense. And all that messy shit just suddenly snaps together in a perfect picture.” The boy said, releasing his hand from his chin, whereupon it found itself something to do by rapping it’s knuckles on the side of the bench. ”The sensation is… well… kinda like suddenly waking up after a long sleep. Like dunking my head in a bucket of icy water. All that haze and background noise just… gone.”

The boy’s glowing eyes finally made their way towards his elder sister, as if trying to measure her reaction to what he’d say next.

Talking honestly about himself never really came easy to the lad.

”Seeing you laying on the ground like that, hurt and bleeding and under someone trying to kill you was one of those moments and, well... like I said; I remember everything. Reliving it over and over like it’s still happening... I mean...” Yet another nervous exhale as he felt his hands fold neatly into his lap. Fidgeting slightly. ”I already have enough dead family living inside my head, I didn’t want to have any more.”

Now that she thought about it, Mal had never really talked about himself much in the nearly six years they had known one another. Oh, he had talked about plenty of other things with her, but the subject of his powers and what it was like to be him had never really come up before. Granted, she hadn’t exactly been forthright with her own negative experiences; everyone had enough shit to deal with without her adding onto it.

Still, perhaps she should have opened up to him more, like she had with Zoey. Told him about her own experiences as Lady Arcana, and how it had changed her life forever. After all, for two people who had spent so much time together, they didn’t really know all that much about one another’s pasts.

”That sounds...overwhelming, Mal,” said Karen, taking a seat beside him on the bench. Reaching behind him to pull her little brother into a half-hug, she frowned. ”I’m sorry you have to deal with something so awful; I can’t even imagine what it must be like.”

She really couldn’t—while Mnemosyne granted Lady Arcana an eidetic memory as well, her godly mind allowed her to utilize it without any of the detrimental effects that Mal had mentioned. It felt almost like his powers were a double-edged sword in comparison.

”How long have you had those abilities? I’m guessing six years or so, yeah?”

”Exactly six years, nine days, eight hours and about fifteen minutes or so.” The boy in question responded with his usual dry demeanour, gently bracing his hand onto Karen’s shoulder to half-escape from her half-embrace, letting out a sort of morbid chuckle as he did so. ”And I wouldn’t go so far as to call it ‘Awful’, so much as it’s just a constant pain in my ass.”

Well, that’s what he’d refer to it anyhow.

Karen had enough shit on her plate to deal with without worrying about his baggage, too. Hell, everyone did. So that opinion on his own state would be sufficient enough.

Something he just said had just given Karen the distinct feeling like she was forgetting or overlooking something. What was it? Was there something significant that happened a little over a week ago, besides all of them arriving on campus—oh shit!

”Your birthday!” Karen gasped, smacking herself in the head—an action she quickly regretted. Her ears rang slightly and she felt that wave of dizziness briefly wash over her, as it had more than once over the past couple of days. ”Ugh...stupid head.”

But that didn’t matter right now. She’d just remembered something important. ”Damn it, because I was still shaking off my isolation, I forgot to get you a proper birthday present!”

”Stop hitting your head while you have a concussion and we’ll call it even.” Mal couldn’t help but quip at that, a little smirk working it’s way across his face at the (much welcomed) little respite from the topic at hand. ”...Of course your doctor already told you about that, right?”

Karen winced at the mention of her doctor. ”Y-yeah...I’ll be fine though, don’t worry.”

She really wasn’t too concerned about it, in truth. It was only a minor concussion; it should heal up in a week or two, surely. No, a realization had now bored its way into her brain, and she wasn’t about to let it escape her. ”Anyway, you were really upset on your birthday, you know, and now that I think about it, you always have been. Why is that?”

Mal remained silent for a moment, eyes slowly raising to meet his sister’s as an unreadable expression made itself known on his face. But after a solid half-minute or two, he answered.

”My brain also functions as a sort of internal clock. I’m not entirely sure how that works, but on certain times of the year, some memories are louder than others. Harder to ignore.” He stated plainly, now shifting back and fully escaping the sort of half-hug Karen had wrapped him in earlier. ”So I have good days, and I have bad days. Some moreso than others.”

But pointedly failed to elaborate.

”...But why would your birthday of all days be one of those ‘bad days’?” asked Karen, raising her brow.

A small exhale escaped the boy at that- through his nose, as his lips were thoroughly pursed in an expression of hesitance- as his fingers found themselves wrapping on the bench again. It also occurred to him that he’d probably also remember all of the stupid faces he’d made in the past fifteen or so minutes of this conversation, but he put that thought on the backburner in favour of the dilemma he now faced.

This was some deeply personal shit the blonde was asking about. The kind he’d never even told Zoey about.

And he had more than a few reasons for doing so.

Still, it didn’t feel quite right to just brush his sister off like his subconscious was screaming at him to, especially not in the state she was in.

His glowing eyes lingered on her for a moment at that last thought.

…

’...Fuckdammit.’

”If I tell you, you sit down, shaddup and let me work on that compressed spine of yours before you’re both concussed and crippled.” He finally growled more than said or offered, still clearly uncomfortable with the topic at hand. ”Deal?”

A grin slowly worked its way onto Karen’s face at this. ”Deal!”

Heroes Reborn: Year Six (OPEN)

3:01 A.M.
Aquarius Apartments, Bazar Quarter, Poseidonis

Karen wasn’t too surprised when the lights went out; it made sense to disable the power before they went in. She had already stashed the pill back into her purse, along with the scanner. The evidence was secure, and it was now dark—she would be able to sneak away from Ophelia and that girl to do her thing.

”You two stay here, alright? Don’t leave the bathroom, no matter what you hear!”

Feeling her way to the bathroom door, Karen slipped out into the hallway. She could hear the confused and frustrated murmurs of the various partygoers. There were a lot of innocent people here, but she knew Mal wouldn’t let them get hurt, just as she wouldn’t.

Drawing a breath, she prepared to light up the room for one brief moment. ”SHA—Huuhh?”

Her voice had...caught in her throat. That was weird. Oh well.

”SHAAA-HURNGH!!” Karen grunted, to the point where she started sputtering. What the hell was going on here? It was like something was keeping her from speaking the Word, like it was literally trying to force it back down her throat.

Shaking her head, she took a deep breath. ”SHAAAAZZZRUUUUM! SHAAAZZZEEEEEEM! SHAAAAA—CHEW!”

”Ugh,” said Karen, wiping her nose. What the fuck? Why the hell couldn’t she say it? Had somebody here cast some kind of weird spell on her? But no, who would’ve known to do that?

Placing her finger to her ear again, she whispered. ”Hey Pink-Eye, I’ve got a small problem...I can’t transform. Or at least, I can’t say the word to transform. It’s...not coming out. And no, I have no fucking clue why.”

That… gave Mal a bit of pause. Even as he was standing over the unconscious frame of a particularly well-dressed, particularly well-armed guard who’d had the misfortune of having his back turned to the balcony.

”Wait, what?” Mal harshly whispered over the comms, eyes peeling away from the rather, peculiar arcdriver pistol he’d lifted off the very bald and very out cold guy at his feet ”You’re kidding, right?”
Stowing this particular bit of magitech on his belt and getting to his feet, that supercomputer of a brain in Mal’s noggin was already doing the math on what to do with this particular setback… preferably without his favourite k-pop enthusiast coming into harm’s way.

Grinding his teeth, he finally spoke again as he dropped another guard via a hand over his mouth and a tazer in his neck.

”Alright, calm down. We can still work with this- transforming ain’t exactly the only trick you have up your sleeve.” The boy growled into his headset, trying at least to sound not at all disturbed with this new bit of information floating around his brain. ”You gonna be fine until I get there?”

Karen swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat, but nodded. ”Alright. You’re right...I’ll manage something. The important thing is that we take these guys down without anyone getting hurt.”

And she had a good idea on how to do that. She might not be super strong, tough, or fast, but she still had a few spells that would work well in this situation. Namely…

”Ypnos,” she said calmly, extending her hand towards one of the nearby Spaniards, who were now brandishing flashlights. Wavering slightly on his feet for a brief moment, Alejandro fell onto his back with an audible thud that startled the other two.

Her sleeping spell was simple, basic magic, but it was surprisingly useful against those who lacked a strong enough will to resist it.

”’Atta girl… just be careful.”

Orin was moving the second the lights went out, pushing through the crowds and feeling confident that he would still be unseen in the darkness. It was simple enough to spot the guards, they were already moving into positions. Stepping up to the closest pair, Orin reached out and grabbed at each of their lower jaws, his gloves expelling an inky gas which would send them to sleep until they could be dealt with. Shoving them to the side with a satisfying thud, Orin turned on the rest of the room. He was vaguely aware of the conversation in his earpiece and was pleased to hear that Mal was talking Karen through her current problem. They’d have to look into that when this was over.

Pushing his way through the loud crowds, Orin inked several more guards before an indicator light began flashing on his wrist. The synthesizer tank was out. They’d have to work on that capacity. Orin shrugged and pulled at the small tubes on his wrists, freeing the water from its course and using his magic to begin shaping it. Soon enough he was holding a pair of water-based blades, ready to advance on the next group.

Static, still underground, had been thrown away from the explosion of the generator. It wasn’t enough to cause any really damage to him or the sewer system, but it did take the young man a moment to rise. In that time, his eyes went wide at the voice of this other agent.

It couldn’t be.

It was Mal’s sister Karen, the voice couldn’t be mistaken for anyone else. Hearing her speak back to the armed Argonaut, as the angry one called themselves, Virgil noticed that his voice dropped and calmed a little from the fiery intensity that he used with Static himself. He couldn’t bring this up, not now. Maybe mal didn’t even know.

In any case, he could faintly hear the commotion going on up above. He shot up into the air and pushed the manhole cover aside once more. To anyone escaping the building, Static directed them safely away before throwing himself into danger. He couldn’t let the Argonauts take all the fun.

Though he could take the vertical route outside the building, Static decided to take the front door, throwing purple bolts of lightning this way and that at those who tried attacking him. It was still a small space and innocent people were still all around. He needed to be careful while he regrouped with the others. ”Taking care of the front door. How’s everything else looking?”

It took some careful work to be able to sling sparks with one hand and keep his other hand on comms without frying it, but Static managed. He just hoped that Karen wasn’t going to notice his voice like he did hers.

”You son of a bitch.” Mal snarled over the comm. As the lightshow began, somewhat subverting this whole ‘covert’ thing they’d been up to and instantly turning the confused, but otherwise docile crowd of partygoers into a panicked, frenzied mob. With the added bonus of his now Non-Wizardy sister caught in the middle. ”What fucking part of quietly did you not understand?”

Finishing the next guard on his hit-list a bit more harshly than necessary, by driving the side of his head into the edge of a doorframe while he was busy fumbling with the weapon in his shoulder holster and freaking out about how the front door had suddenly become a damned Tesla Coil, Mal continued.

”Fuckin’... Cuttlefish, we’regoing loud.”

”Don’t go loud.” Static was quick to interject. ”If eyes are on me, they won’t be on you. Keep it together.”

”My sister is in that panicked mob you just created you unbelievable asshole!”

”And that panicked mob is going to panic the fuck out of here!”

”Trampling over anything in the goddamn way, because some guy’s at the only normal entrance firing lightning bolts everywhere!”

”And where does that leave our druggies? In the back where you guys are.”

”Fuck you, Virgil.”

A door opened and a blond haired teenager wandered into the once-dark, but now sense-attackingly bright room. His eyes went wide as he noticed the masked men working their way through.

”Uh… hej,” he said meekly, offering a weak wave. ”I don’t know what’s going on here, but uh… I think I should do something other than watch maybe.”

He slowly shifted into a fighting posture with a worried frown on his face.

Karen had managed to successfully put several of the surfacers who had been handing out drugs earlier to sleep without drawing anyone’s notice, thanks in part to the cover of darkness. While initially apprehensive about doing this without her powers, she was slowly starting to feel more confident in her natural magic.

Raising her hand to target yet another of the drug pushers, it was in that moment that the room erupted in what can only be described as an electrical light show. What was once darkness became a nauseating strobe that had everyone—civilian and guard alike—frantically looking around them.

Her spell had been successful nonetheless, and the surfacer began to fall...but this time Karen had not gone unseen. In their frantic searching for the source of the painful flashing, one of the other guards had caught sight of her in the act.

Though she turned immediately to try and place him under the same spell, he was upon her far too quickly. Violently striking her hand down with such a force that it must have at least have sprained her wrist, he tackled her into the nearby wall. The resulting impact caused several pictures to fall to the ground as Karen felt something go pop that definitely shouldn’t have.

Raising her uninjure hand to once again try to cast the spell, she was instead reward with a hard punch across her face that split her lip and sent droplets of blood to the floor. It was in this moment that she realized just how hopelessly unsuited her human body was for combat against an opponent who truly wanted to kill you.

Another blow to her abdomen illustrated this perfectly.

It was in that moment, after all the myriad twists and turns his day had taken, all the stress, all the frustration, all the people trying their damndest to piss him off... that Mal registered that his Kare-Bear was on the ground. When he visibly registered the loud popping of her back through his vision. When he saw her bloodied and beaten and gasping for air…

...That something in Mal’s head finally snapped.

The timer on his reactive armour wound down and he seemingly just appeared in the middle of the fray, shoulders slack, hands open and eyes locked in the direction of his quarry, burning bright enough to be seen even through the smokey visor of his helmet.

”One one thousand… two one thousand…”

Suddenly he was moving forward, his gait steady yet unnatural, like some machine in the guise of a man. It didn’t take for a guard to take notice the sudden appearance of the armoured figure in the midst of all this chaos, and come rushing at him from the left, some form of arcane stun-baton in hand.

Without even looking at the man, the Argonaut grabbed his wrist and elbow as it came, twisting and snapping the former with all the effort it took most to breathe and pulling on the latter to help guide the weapon straight down the man’s throat as his armoured boot abruptly shot out at the side of the man’s knee and all but destroyed it with a sickening ‘CRUNCH!’.

”Five one thousand… six one thousand…”

The next one got off lucky, comparatively, as he hadn’t even gotten to raise his arcdriver before Mal had a hold of his arm, too. Firing the weapon into the man’s own thighs before taking it from his grasp and whipping him across the face with it with enough force to send a shower of blood and teeth flying into the panicked crowd before tossing the arcane murder implement aside like old garbage.

”Nine one thousand… ten one thousand…”

And finally, Mal was on his target, wasting no time in putting his boot into the back of the busy man’s knee, slamming it into the floor as his fists rose up under his arms as he fell. Separating the joints of both his shoulders with surgical precision that left any veins or arteries untouched as he ripped them out again, grabbed the now shrieking man by his face, lifted his chin and quickly moved his clawed fist to his throat to finish the job.

”Thirteen one thousand… fourteen one thousand…”

It had taken Karen several moments to regain her senses after the pummeling she had received, but as her vision gradually cleared and she stared up at the carnage taking place right in front of her, she could only gasp in horror.

Scrambling to her knees as best she could with her injuries, she reached out for Mal with her good hand, shouting at the top of her lungs so that he would hear her over the surrounding chaos and whatever blinding rage had consumed his mind. ”MAL! STOP! YOU’RE GOING TO KILL HIM!”

At her touch, Mal’s head instantly snapped up towards Karen… and not in a friendly way.

Almost like a war machine from some sci-fi horror story identifying it’s next target, in fact.

But stop he did, staring at his pseudo-sister in dead silence for a few seconds before the twin orange orbs glowing behind his visor faded away and his body relaxed some, the claws in his gauntlets sheathing away.

...Well, not before he rose his retreating fist and brought it back down on the side of the man’s skull, mind you. But progress was being made.

”...Right.” Mal stated, standing upright as that cold professionalism snaked it’s way back into his voice, almost not even acknowledging what he’d been about to do as he offered out his hand. ”Let’s get you out of here.”

Heroes Reborn: Year Six (OPEN)

9:48 P.M., February 6th
Blossoming Rose teahouse, Chinatown, Gotham

The atmosphere here was all wrong.

Yes, it was Chinatown, but even here Siobhan McKenna could smell trace amounts of "America" seeping in through the cracks. Still, it was probably as authentically chinese as any location in Gotham would ever be. After spending so much time in the lands of the Jianghu, it was admittedly difficult to reintegrate with western society—especially the worst of western society.

Ireland, the UK, Europe in general...she’d managed well enough in her return there. America, however, seemed to just be drowning in punchable faces. Arrogant, self-righteous pricks in desperate need of having their teeth kicked down their throat.

Ironic that the feckin’ triads were the only halfway enjoyable company she could find after coming to this country. Why so many wished to move here was a greater mystery to her than even the lost texts of Nanda Parbat. Oh well, at least there was a vibrant underworld here—which meant plenty of opportunities for fun and profit!

“I’m a thief, not a killer. I don’t do assassinations,” she said in Cantonese. ”I couldn’t care less about the Punchingyellow family, or your shitty gang war. Don’t waste my time.”

“It’s not merely the Italians that are the problem,” said Jingyi, hands folded beneath his nose. “Our men were attacked last night at the My Alibi Night Club. Slaughtered, for the most part, but there were survivors who managed to narrowly escape. One man is said to have been responsible for this massacre.”

”...And?” said Siobhan, using her chopsticks to pop a piece of her peking chicken into her mouth, a bundle of rice surrounding it. ”I still don’t see how it’s my problem.”

“He is a violent maniac that has been murdering his way through the criminal underworld for weeks now!” snapped Jingyi, his hands slamming onto the table with enough force to cause their drinks to rattle. “If we’re all dead, you won’t have anyone to conduct business with. Surely you can see how our interests align on this?”

Easing back in her chair, Siobhan glanced over the quaint teahouse. Most of those eating here were regular people unaware that they were sitting next to hardened criminals. Some of them gave her odd looks—that was something she was used to. Standing at over six feet in height with a head of auburn-red hair, she generally stuck out like a bloody thumb wherever she went.

”How about this?” said Siobhan, leaning forward. ”If I happen upon him while on the job, I’ll kick his ass free of charge. I’m not gonna to waste my time searching for him, however—I’m no P.I.”

“Stop being so short sighted, Xue Huoyan!” Jingyi all but shouted, once again causing the table to raddle by slamming his hands down. “This could be the end of all of us!”

---

As he got off his motorcycle and looked up at the quaint little building, he almost had a hard time believing some hardass crooks operated out of here. The two story building looked like any other teahouse around here, only a little more authentic. Looked a bit nicer, cleaner. Still, appearances could be deceiving. Grabbing his helmet from the side of his bike, he slid it onto his head, before checking to see if his two pistols were loaded. Satisfied, David holstered his pistols again and walked into the front door.

And it was only after he entered the tea house that he realized he had no idea what he was looking for. He stood around at the entrance for a moment, scanning the room over and seeing all the people drinking tea at their tables, while looking like a total asshole in his costume. A few Asian guys in nice suits dotted around the room; security guards, no doubt, and he could see a faint glint of metal under their jackets, indicative that they were all packing heat.

One of the guards glanced over at him then looked away... Only for the guard to do a double take and shout something in Chinese at the other guards, pointing in his direction. Oh, great. Couldn't even make it ten seconds in without starting a scene. 'Nice job, Dave. Best infiltration I've ever seen.'

'Eat shit and choke on it.'

The guards all fired at David, who dove behind a nearby pillar and pulled his pistols out. They all yelled curses in Chinese, either in an attempt to intimidate him or out of pure fear. He was kinda hoping it was the latter. The customers all panicked, beginning to swarm out of the tea house. David only gave a small chuckle. "Can't even head into a tea house without getting a gun pointed at you in this town, eh?"

And with that he rolled out of cover and began to fire.

---

Jingyi had dived underneath the table for cover at the first sounds of gunfire, poking his head out only when he realized it was coming from down below. Drawing his pistol, he crawled to the edge of the second floor and stared down at the carnage that had engulfed the once peaceful teahouse.

Siobhan, for her part, had continued to enjoy her peking chicken while observing Jingyi’s ever growing state of panic. He apparently hadn’t considered that they might be attacked here so soon after the battle at the night club. But that was the thing about crazy people—they seldom understood how to take things slow.

”See? And you thought we’d never run into each other,” Siobhan noted to Jingyi, who was glancing up at her in frustration as he fired down at the vigilante. ”You want ‘em alive or dead?”

“Either! I don’t care! Just stop him before he reaches the stairs!” shouted Jingyi.

Popping another ball of chicken and rice into her mouth, she closed her eyes and reached out with her mind across the teahouse. The triads, the fleeing customers, the staff, and the vigilante—one thing they all had in common was chi. Though they themselves were surely unaware of it, this raw life energy flowed through each and every one of them.

But there was something a bit off with the vigilante’s chi. It felt...warped, in a sense. Twisted. It didn’t quite flow naturally as it should. It reminded her a little of the terracotta warriors—dead soldiers sealed within mystical stone that would return them to life if the locations they were guarding were disturbed. Strange that he would feel similar to them.

“What are you doing? Hurry!” demanded Jingyi.

Ignoring him, she stood from her seat with another piece of chicken and rice held between her chopsticks and calmly walked across the second floor of the teahouse, staring down at the floor the entire time. When she at last arrived at the correct location, she gave a quick hop into the air and then slammed straight down through the floor, directly above the vigilante.

Lashing out with her leg in a blur of motion, she slammed the side of her shoe into the strange, red helmet that her new opponent was wearing before she even touched the ground.

David had just gunned down the last guard when he felt his enhanced reflexes kick in. By the time he realized he was being attacked, however, it was already too late, and he found himself taking a kick to the head that managed to send him flying a few feet back, where he landed on his ass. He recovered quickly, doing an unnecessarily complex recovery move that involved spinning into a handstand before backflipping onto his feet and throwing his arms into the air, his back to the attacker. 'DAVE. SOMEONE HIT US. I'M NOT HAPPY.'

David turned around, twirling his pistols and preparing to blow away whoever decided to play hopscotch on his head... Only to stop short at what he saw. His jaw nearly dropped. A staggeringly tall redhead with curves in all the right places. All he could do at the sight of her was mutter a near silent "holy shit" in sheer awe. 'DAVE! DAAAAAVE! LOOK AT HER! LOOK AT HER!' Truly, she was the most beautiful woman he and Hood had ever seen...

... And she was probably going to try to kick their ass.

Recovering quickly, Dave holstered his M1911 and ran a glove across the top of his helmet as though slicking his hair back. He had no chance with this chick... But hey, ain't not harm in flirting. "... Hey there, hot stuff! Looking to join the party?" ... And after saying that, he really had to wonder how had he picked people up in the past. Flirting was a lot harder than it looked.

Siobhan had landed softly on her feet after delivering her kick, watching in silence as the man showed off his unnecessarily theatrical acrobatics. Shoving her last piece of chicken and rice into her mouth, she was forced to abruptly swallow it when he started…flirting with her?

By slicking back his feckin’ helmet, no less.

“Yer a bit of an odd sort, aren’t ya?” she said in English, her thick Irish accent now evident. ”Guess I shouldn’t be surprised—ya go about shootin’ up mobsters in that.”

She gestured to his “costume”, staring at his helmet in particular. ”’Red hood’, right? But it’s not anythin’ like a hood, now is it? She’s more like a helmet, so why not ‘Red Mask’ or somethin’ that actually makes sense?”

'... Wow, okay, she goes and insults our outfit, then she makes fun of our helmet. She's starting to seem like a thot to me, Dave.' Hood was sounding especially offended by the Irish chick's remarks, though Dave was still a bit distracted with... Other things to bother getting mad over it, at least for the moment. Once he fully processed what she said, however, he quirked an eyebrow. Not that she could see it, but still.

"Well, uh... You're not from around here judging by the accent you got going on there, but basically there was another guy in Gotham about eighty years back named, you guessed it, the Red Hood. Crazy enough, he wore a helmet instead of a hood, too! Figured I'd take it up as my crimefighting nom de guerre because I'm not too original." He tapped his helmet. "Plus, I think red's a color that spices things up. When I was a kid going around beating up crooks I wore black, and black just isn't a fun color, is it?"

Shrugging, David took a few steps closer to the kung fu lady. "Man. Really yapping your ear off on this first date, where are my manners? Please, tell me a bit about you, my fiery headkicker."

Siobhan watched him step closing, smiling. She continued to eye him up and down, but it was not a gesture signalling attraction—even if he likely interpreted it as such. Rather, she was checking his armor to see if it could potentially obstruct her chi.

”I’m known ta these feckers as Xue Huoyan,” she explained, stuffing her chopsticks in her pocket. Bending one knee while extending the other out at an odd angle, she curling her fingers until they formed a claw-like shape. ”Fer those of us who only speak English, that’s Snow Flame!”

Taking advantage of their close proximity, she leaped slightly into the air with a spinning kick that seemed to slice through the air more like a blade than a regular limb. Aimed at taking his head off, Siobhan assumed he would dodge this, and so immediately followed up with a blinding flurry of claw-strikes when she landed that targeted the most vulnerable areas that she had discovered on his armor.

Were they used by a normal human, these techniques might be woefully ineffective. After all, simply curling your fingers doesn’t actually make them slashing claws. And yet hers were, slicing through the air—and potentially flesh—with ease. Such was the power of the sacred arts of the Jianghu.

As soon as this "Snow Flame" lady got into that weird stance, David knew that nothing good would come of it. He took in a deep breath, allowing his perception of time to slow and tapping into his speed. He managed to easily lean back to avoid the spinning kick aimed at his head. He knew there would be a follow up, but he wasn't fast enough to dodge the first blow; it caught his right arm, managing to break his gauntlet, tear through his jacket, and give him a nasty gash.

He ducked and rolled backwards, coming out in another backflip to create some more distance. "Phew! Nice trick you got there, Miss Ice Fire! Say, do you do parties? I'd love to see you cut up a cake like that!" He already knew she wasn't just a normal human; in fact, she was probably stronger than he was. He twirled his pistol in his hand and set his sights on her, emptying the clip in her direction.

In truth, the goal Siobhan in her use of Heihuquan was not to merely cut him, but to literally tear hunks of flesh from his body. The fact that he merely receives lacerations said much for his swift reflexes. Inhumanly swift, in fact.

When he rolled back out of her range, Siobhan immediately changed her own stance in response. Folding her arms behind her back, she turned to the side, minimizing herself as he unleashed a hail of bullets in her direction. Weaving precisely around the oncoming gunfire almost like a blade of grass dancing in the wind, she quickly withdrew her chopsticks from her pocket as the last volley was fired.

Allowing her chi to flow into the simple wooden eating utensils, she intercepted the last of the oncoming bullets with one of the sticks, immediately arresting its momentum before giving it a quick smack with the other chopstick, sending it flying back at the Red Hood.

When Dave finished emptying the clip, with Snow Flame easily weaving through the barrage of bullets, he figured that was that and they'd go at it with pure fisticuffs. Dave wasn't quite expecting what came next. She caught the bullet with chopsticks. He only had a second to react, leaning out of the way of the bullet... But not quite enough. The bullet managed to chip off a chunk of his helmet and graze his forehead, a stray lock of brown hair peeking out of the hole.

On the inside he was screaming from how much it hurt.

On the outside, he kept up his same goofy facade. "Oooh, didn't quite hit the mark there, did ya? Marksmanship not quite your thing?" He didn't bother waiting for another attack, instead running forward and grabbing an assortment of cups and plates from a nearby table. He flung them with all his strength at Snow Flame, hoping to hit her and at least make her stumble a bit. With his luck, she was made of iron and would no sell it. Or, you know, just outmaneuver them, like she did last time.

”Funny,” she said against the backdrop of a teahouse that had just been riddled with dozens of missed shots. ”I was just about ta say the same of you.”

When Red Hood charged forward and began to throw various cups and plates in her direction, she immediately leaped into the air towards them. Touching the first plate with her foot, she set her next onto the teacup just ahead of it, effectively running on the still airborne dishware towards her opponent. Placing both of her feet on the last of the thrown plates only long enough to leap off of it, she descended upon the vigilante with the grace of a leopard.

Shifting to Jiao Li the moment she managed to get her hands on him, threw him towards the nearest wall with bone-crunching force...at least, it would’ve been against a normal human. This man seemed…enhanced.

She was definitely intrigued.

"OhshitohshitohshitohshitohshIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIT!"

*KRAAAAK!*

David burst through the wooden wall and into an alley between the tea house and a cheap massage parlor. He laid on the ground for a moment, groaning in pain, before leaping up onto his feet and cracking his back. "... How the hell did I not break every bone in my body?" This was new. He hadn't exactly tried it before, but he expected to at least break a limb or two tumbling through that wall. Aside from it hurting like a son of a bitch, he felt... Surprisingly fine!

"Phew! Hey, thanks for that, had a kink in my back that wouldn't get out!" David called back to Snow Flame as he walked back into the tea house through the decimated wall. On the inside, he spoke to Hood. 'Hey, uh, my psychopathic friend? How the hell did our bones not get turned into tissue paper?'

'Beats the hell outta me, dude.'

Siobhan smiled brightly when he stepped back through the wall mostly unscathed, giving her a genuine round of applause. ”Ya really are made of tougher stuff than the average bloke, aren’t ya? ‘Should consider visitin’ Shambala, learn some real martial arts skill!”

Rolling her neck from side to side for a moment, she relaxed her stance and pointed up above her. ”The boss of those triads is up there—or he was when I came crashin’ down. Probably ran by now.”

“I don’t actually give a rat’s arse about protectin’ that scum, I just wanted ta see what ya were made of, bein’ the big scary vigilante that’s had ‘em all scared ta shite.”

David grinned beneath the helmet, both at the praise Snow Flame was giving him and the fact that he apparently had the criminal underworld pissing their pants. "Aw, they're really saying all that about me? Warms my little heart." David leaned against the railing to the stairs, looking up them. "Well, it was nice getting to know ya Miss Snow Flame. Say, before I go and 'rain justice on the wicked' and 'send them back to Satan' and all that cool, broody bullshit, you mind giving me your number?"

'Don't do it, Dave. She's a thot. I already know she is.'

'Shhh.'

Siobhan glanced behind her, then sensed above her. All of the triads were either dead by this point, or had fled. The staff and customers had likewise evacuated the teahouse soon after the shooting had began. Returning her focus to the Red Hood, she shrugged her shoulders. ”Sure, sure, why the feck not? I run a bar a ways from here. 46th street, just outside Chinatown, can’t miss it. Me name’s Siobhan, by the way—me actual name.”

Turning away from him, she began calmly stepping through the myriad clutter—broken tables, shattered dishes, dead bodies—towards the door. Maybe she was a little too harsh on this place; it had some pretty interesting residents.

Holy shit, that actually worked! ... Kinda.

"I'll uh, be sure to swing by sometime then! You'll probably recognize me from the bullet graze on my forehead." Turning around, David began to climb the stairs, grinning to himself. He took a look around, seeing, well, nothing. There definitely wouldn't be any clues as to where the Triad leader went amidst the ruins of the tea house, either. Damn.

'Hey Dave, if you let me do my thing, I could find this guy in no time.'

'... Fuck it, go for it.'

'WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO'

"HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

Several hours later...

When David came to, the first thing he realized was that he was near ass naked, wearing nothing but his boxers and his helmet in a warehouse. He poked his head up to look around, spying the dead bodies, discarded weapons, and loads of shell casings. All he could do was sigh and lay his head back down...

"God fucking dammit, Hood."

Heroes Reborn: Year Six (OPEN)

Snow Flame WIP

Anti-hero/villain Name: Xue Huoyan/Snow Flame
Civilian Name: Siobhan McKenna
Origin city: Galway, Ireland
Hometown: Transient/Shambala
Sex: Female
Race: Human
Height: 6’2
Weight: 191 lbs
Age: 45 (physically 22)
Birth Date: April 28th, 2001
--------
Costumed Appearance:
Civilian Appearance:
Icon:
Costumed Personality: Xue Huoyan is as playful as she is irreverent, holding little respect for any authority but her own. A free spirit with an insatiable appetite for the unknown, she is always eager to hone her abilities in the martial arts and unearth secrets thought lost to time. To this end, she’ll even feign respect for those whom she has need of, at least until they have ceased to be useful. Should one be able to earn her genuine friendship, however, then she will prove to be an unshakably loyal and dependable ally. She hates bullies, and those who lord their power over the weak and helpless.
Civilian Personality: As she doesn’t have a secret identity in the typical sense, there is no significant difference in her behaviour during her downtime. Still, when relaxing, Siobhan is slow to anger and is a generally friendly and upbeat drinking companion.
Super abilities:

-Skills:
In the twenty-one years that she spent in the immortal lands of the Jianghu, Siobhan has studied a vast array of martial arts under the tutelage of the ancient masters of Wulin. Both her physical abilities and her mind have been pushed beyond the boundaries of even the finest athlete as a result.

Beyond Peak Human Conditioning: Even without using chi, Siobhan is superior to the very finest of athletes in terms of running speed, gymnastics, acrobatics, striking power, and reaction time.

Martial Arts: During her travels between the sacred cities, Siobhan was educated in the most ancient of martial arts by the Eight Immortals themselves. From them, she has learned the original forms of Jiao Li, the many styles of Shaolin Quan, and Changquan. From other Wulin masters she also learned Chen Taijiquan, Wing Chun Quan, Baguazhang, Xing Yi Quan, Choy Lai Fut, and Bajiquan.

She also retains some knowledge of the Shotokan Karate that she learned before discovering Jianghu, though she seldom uses it as it was a point-based fighting form.

-Powers:
Chi
From her training with the Eight Immortals, Siobhan learned to channel and harness her Chi, the internal energy that flows through all non-magical creatures. This allows her to greatly enhance her physical abilities and attacks in a wide variety of ways, including:
-The ability to augment her strength for either lifting, jumping, or striking purposes.
-The ability to directly damage or destroy a target’s internal organs. This can even ignore a metahuman’s invulnerability to a degree.
-Giving one’s appendages the properties of various weapons or creatures, such as knives or an animal’s claws.
-The ability to glide along the air following a high jump.
-The ability to become near-weightless, to the point where she can perch on light tree branches.
-The ability to focus all her body’s chi into manifesting as physical energy, which she can then launch at her opponents for a devastating ranged attack. Doing so will leave her completely exhausted, however.

-Gadgets: None
-Weapons:
Yu Chang
Siobhan’s favoured weapon is Yu Chang, the sword of bravery. A jian (Chinese longsword), it can cut or pierce through nearly any material to reach its target. An ancient and legendary sword stolen from Nanda Parbat.

Civilian Occupation: Professional Thief

Biography---------

Character History/Origin: Siobhan McKenna was born in Galway, Ireland to Devin and Lydia McKenna. Due to her father’s out of control alcoholism, he had trouble keeping a steady job for long—they often found themselves counting on government assistance. Resentful of the turn his life had taken, Devin vented his frustrations through verbal and physical abuse towards his wife and daughter.

At school, Siobhan was often picked on by the other children for her unusual height, being taller than any boy in her class. The stress from this caused her to eat and gain weight, which only caused their bullying to become worse. Nicknamed “Big Bertha” McKenna by classmate Beatrix O’Kelly, she spent most of her early school years in bitter isolation.

The torment she endured at both home and school often bled over. For example, whenever Beatrix and her gang would trip her into a mudpuddle, potentially ruining one of her few outfits. Upon seeing her come home covered in filth, Devin would always fly into a rage about having to buy her new clothes with their limited finances, ensuring an already horrible day became that much worse.

To escape her hated reality, Siobhan often enjoyed reading and watching fantasy novels and films. These allowed her to lose herself in another world, a world where she could go on endless, amazing adventures, free from her father or Beatrix. The aesthetics and elegance displayed in Wushu films such as Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon captivated her the most.

After her father passed away from a heart attack shortly after she turned thirteen, Siobhan often found herself alone after school as her mother began working to support them. It was during this time that she decided to leave the realm of fantasy and actually train in the martial arts she had become so fascinated by. Unfortunately, there were no Kung Fu schools near her home, and so she ultimately had to settle for the Galway Academy of Shotokan Karate.

It wasn’t quite what she had expected—instead of the exciting battles she had witnessed in many a karate film, her dojo was mainly concerned with calisthenics, aerobic exercises, and point-based sparring. Still, she fully dedicated herself to the classes, tired of being the butt of everyone’s joke. For an entire year, she would spend each and every afternoon after school (and the entirety of the weekend) training.

In that time, she greatly impressed her teachers with the speed at which she learned techniques and kata. While most students only trained twice a week, Siobhan never missed a single day of her first year there, even when ill. By the time she turned fourteen, “Big Bertha” was no more—her weight had been burned away by more than a thousand hours of intensive training. She would soon after compete in her first tournament, which she easily walked away from with a trophy for first place, despite her youth.

Her heart now swelling with a newfound confidence, Siobhan boasted of her skills to all who would listen. This, unfortunately, attracted the attention of her old bully, Beatrix O’Kelly. “Bea”, as her friends called her, was now the women’s champion of their school’s boxing team despite only being a freshman. Having been Siobhan’s most relentless tormentor throughout their younger days, Bea disliked how uppity the ginger had become in the past year.

Challenging the other fourteen-year-old to a “friendly spar” one day after school, Siobhan chose to skip karate class for the very first time to meet with her. When she arrived, a small crowd of students had gathered to watch the exhibition. Her hands already taped and ready, Bea wasted little time in starting into Siobhan with her usual taunts, speculating on whether or not she was hiding drapes of sagging skin beneath her gi.

When the match at last began, the first hit, to everyone’s surprise, went to Siobhan when she successfully delivered a hard kick to Bea’s stomach, dropping the boxer to her knees. Surprised by the sheer reach of Siobhan’s legs, the 5’8 Beatrix was nevertheless on her feet in mere seconds. Closing the distance between them again, Siobhan once more took advantage of her superior reach to strike her opponent in the face—only to find herself on the defensive immediately afterwards.

It was then, as blow after powerful blow hammered her head and body, that Siobhan began to understand the shortcomings of the martial art she had been so zealously studying. During the tournament she had won, the fighting had always been stopped by the referee after one of them had successfully landed a strike on their opponent. In fact, throughout all her training, emphasis had been placed on Kiai, the act of posing and shouting after a successful hit.

Indeed, that is what she had done after each of her first two successful hits, and now she was paying the price. Her offhand had remained down by her waist in proper hikite form, just as she had been taught, leaving her head an easy target. When she finally awoke to the sight of the sniggering faces of Bea’s gang standing over her, Siobhan was forced to admit a painful truth to herself: despite all her training over the past year, despite having won that tournament…she didn’t know how to fight.

In fact, her journey had only just begun.

After this humiliating loss, Siobhan returned to many of her old habits—once again she wore a hoody to school to hide from those who might jeer at her from the sides. Once again, she avoided talking to others unless absolutely necessary. Once again, she had to endure the taunts of O’Kelly, who often would joke that they had to wave a donut in her face to revive her after she was knocked out.

But she hadn’t given up. On the contrary, she was now training harder than ever. Not just at the dojo, but in her very backyard. Having explained the events of her match with O’Kelly to several of her fellow karate students, they began to meet in secret each day to practice full-contact sparring. Siobhan now understood that the only way she would ever learn to fight was by actually fighting.

For yet another year she trained relentlessly alongside her small gang of friends from Galway Academy of Shotokan Karate. Together, they honed the practical aspects of their martial art to a degree they never could have if they had merely followed their instructor’s teachings. Not long after turning fifteen, Siobhan was officially recognized as a black belt, earning her 1st dan in just two years.

But Beatrix O’Kelly had once again outdone her. At the mere age of fifteen, she had just returned from Rio de Janeiro with a gold medal around her neck, having become the youngest boxer to ever accomplish such a feat. Naturally, her popularity at school exploded, and soon offers of scholarships to far more prestigious academies came flooding in. It was only a matter of time before Bea would leave their ruddy comprehensive behind forever.

And Siobhan was livid. She was infuriated, in fact. After O’Kelly had humiliated her so, she was going to just prance off into the sunset? She wasn’t about to let that happen. Not before she at least had a chance to avenge all the years of suffering at her hands.

Issuing another challenge to O’Kelly, Siobhan was shocked when she not only rejected it, but outright dismissed her. She had a reputation to uphold now, and duking it out with another student in the streets could endanger her scholarship. She called Siobhan’s grudge pathetic and childish, and told her to move on with whatever sad life she could achieve.

It was a response Siobhan wasn’t about to accept. If O’Kelly wouldn’t willingly face her, then she’d have to make her.

Grabbing an old t-shirt from her heavier days and wrapping it into an effective ninja mask with the help of a youtube demonstration video, she stormed into the gymnasium during the women’s boxing team’s training hours. While Beatrix had taken a break from the team to recover from her long trip back home, that was just fine with Siobhan.

She had often had her fellow karate students attack her in groups during their private training sessions, and so she knew that the first rule of fighting multiple people was to never let them surround you. Without a word, she attacked the first of O’Kelly’s teammates, who was busy taping up her hands. Instantly knocking her out with a hard kick to the side of her head, Siobhan quickly moved onto the next, who had only just realized what was happening. Another hard kick to the sternum sent this one to the ground, and a stomp to her head kept her there.

Staying quick on her feet, Siobhan maneuverer around the gymnasium, taking full advantage of her superior reach to beat them down one by one. Their skill paled in comparison to Beatrix’s, and it showed. In the end, the only one left standing was a trembling freshman. Leaving her untouched, Siobhan told her to tell her captain that “Big Bertha” would be waiting for her in the park.

And so she did, hiding in the bushes just in case Bea had decided to simply call the police on her. Fortunately, her rival’s anger had gotten the better of her, and she had indeed come alone, hands already taped. When Siobhan emerged, no words were exchanged between them, the only sound being a scream of rage as Beatrix launched herself towards the other girl.

Once again, Siobhan drew first blood, countering Beatrix’s furious attack by imbedding her shoe into her face. Stumbling back, blood falling from her nose, Bea barely had time to think before a second kick slammed into her sternum. There would be no kiai this time, no hikite. Only kicks, punches, throws, and joint locks.

Bea tried to fight back, tried to get inside her opponent’s reach, but Siobhan was relentless this time. She seemed to have a counter for whatever the boxer tried. Get inside? A throw or joint lock. Try and outbox? Exploit superior reach. Use your anger to push through it all?

Siobhan had an entire childhood’s worth of suppressed rage for her.

And then, at last, Beatrix O’Kelly fell. Down onto the grass, sprawled out on her back. She stirred, tried to stand, but Siobhan was now on top of her. One punch after another slammed into Bea’s face, her vision blurring. When her last punch landed without a grunt of protest, the newly christened black belt stopped.

Beatrix was out cold. She had won. At last, after so many years, she had finally overcome her tormentor. The burning confidence she had felt after the tournament returned, and this time it had a solid foundation.

O’Kelly never reported their encounter at the park to the police, for fear of what would happen to her scholarship. Siobhan didn’t care if nobody knew; she hadn’t done it to impress others. She just needed to prove to herself that she was better.

Optional information
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Nemesis:
Allies:
Team:

Heroes Reborn: Year Six (OPEN)

February 7th, 2:12 PM
Journey Shopping Center, Poseidonis

”...I honestly haven’t really gone shopping like this before,” Karen muttered, rubbing her arm in apprehension. ”I grew up around Mal, who isn’t exactly the biggest fashionista, and before that I couldn’t really afford to shop in a place like this.”

Ophelia ran her hands over the racks of dresses, sliding through them with a surprising speed, dismissing each one almost instantly. Occasionally the cut or fabric of one would catch her eye and she would hold it up to Karen's body, seeming to consider it for a moment, before throwing back on the rack.

”I know what you mean…” she said absentmindedly, holding a dress against Karen's shoulders. ” I mean, I can assume, of course.” she corrected herself as she put the dress back on the rack. ”Consider me your guide through the tumultuous yet wonderful world of fashion and department stores.”

Ophelia had spent her recent years trying to erase any trace of her old self. Most days she rarely gave her past a thought. She’d become adept at changing the subject and changing her clothes alike. There were moments though, when she let her guard down, that slivers of the past would slip through the cracks, and her smile might falter for a moment. But those were only moments, and she’d been rather successful, so far, at keeping questions both from within and without, at bay.

”Thanks, I appreciate it,” said Karen, smiling. She was glad that at least one of her roommates had taken a liking to her—Hannah seemed to be rather skittish and out of place here, and while she wanted to reach out to her, it didn’t seem easy for the timid girl to make friends.

Honestly, though, who was she to talk? Right now her cheeks were positively glowing red as Ophelia continuously presented her with ever more racy outfits. She had never been one to push the whole “sex appeal” angle—though that hadn’t slowed Lady Arcana’s fanbase down at all. Or Clare, but nothing slowed her down.

Ophelia held up a black minidress with long sleeves and a flared skirt.

”So you and Malcolm kinda grew up together?” she asked, stopping to consider this dress longer than the others.

”Yeah, pretty much,” said Karen, eying the dress with an apprehensive smile. ”I mean, we had a lot in common, having grown up in the streets.”

Karen never really minded discussing her past, with one key exception, of course. She wasn’t ashamed of where she’d come from. There was nothing to be ashamed of—while The Wedge had its bad reputation, it was full of hard working people who all dreamed of a better life, somewhere deep down.

Ophelia paused for a moment. ”I didn't know that. Both of you? I can imagine how close you two might be.” she said.

Karen nodded. ”Yeah, though Mal honestly had it worse than I did.”

”Well…” she said slowly, “you're both wonderful from what I’ve seen, so I'm glad you are the people you are, however you came to be.”

She thrust the dress she’d been holding into Karen's hands. ”You have to try this one on. I bet your body will work wonders for it!”

Karen glanced down at the dress that had been forcibly shoved into her hands. A chill ran up her spine at the length—or lack thereof—of the dress. What would her mother have thought if she saw her wearing this now? What would Zoey think? ...Well, she already knew the answer to that one..

Swallowing the lump in her throat, Karen turned to disappear in the nearby dressing room. This department store was probably the place that most resembled the surface, even more so than their dorm rooms. There were plenty of non-Atlanteans here, and so she didn’t feel quite so out of place.

Still, the fact that she was about to step out wearing this left her struggling not to break out in a cold sweat. The fact that this was merely a prelude to wearing it at a party of all things was a thought she was still desperately trying to shove to the back of her mind.

Taking a deep breath, Karen pushed opened the door and stepped forward to be judged by Ophelia. ”So, um...how do I look?”

Ophelia looked up from her cellphone and raised an eyebrow, visibly impressed. ”Um. Fucking amazing? God, Karen, you’re giving me a new understanding of the term ‘lady wood’. It’s perfect.”

Karen scratched her cheek in embarrassment, staring off into the distance in the likely-futile hope that she wouldn’t look quite so flustered. She could feel the air against her exposed legs in a way that had never really been an issue as Lady Arcana. ”Um...thanks. I, uh...wonder how much it costs?”

Between everything that had happened with Mal earlier, and her own apprehensiveness at trying on such revealing outfits, she had completely forgotten to consider if she even had enough money on her to buy something like this.

Ophelia almost laughed, she’d forgotten that some people actually paid for things. It should be easy enough to steal without Karen or the store noticing. Not that she didn’t have enough money to pay for it if she wanted to, which might have been more simple, but where was the fun in that?

She smiled at Karen. ”Don’t worry your pretty little head over it, sweetie. Just go change back. I’ll take care of it for you, then we should grab a bite to eat after! My treat.”

”Right, okay,” said Karen, returning to the dressing room. Apparently, Ophelia had planned on paying for it the entire time. That was quite nice of her, though she always felt guilty when others bought things for her. Zoey had been the exception, mostly, since she was one of the wealthiest Billionaires on Earth.

”Hand me the dress over the door once you get out of it and I’ll go pay for it! I’m starving!” Ophelia said, walking over to lean against the dressing room door.

Neatly folding the dress after removing it, Karen handed it over to Ophelia as requested. Now once more wearing her old clothes, she immediately felt more secure stepping out of the dressing room. Ophelia was now over by the counter, apparently having already paid for the dress—she had just received a bag from the lady at the register.

As soon as Ophelia had touched the dress it was gone, vanished into her ‘Closet’. Walking over to the register and asking for a bag was only a courtesy, for sweet, innocent Karen’s sake. She turned around to see Karen walking out towards her, smiling, she closed the distance between them.

”What are you in the mood for? I wonder if we can get italian down here. I bet the shrimp fettuccine would be amazing.” She said, hooking her arm around Karen’s elbow as the headed out the door.

Karen blinked, glancing down at the arm that was now entwined with her own. Something was going on here—weren’t they going to that party? To investigate the drugs those guys were handing out? Then again, the party wasn’t till ten that night. She supposed they had to do something to pass the time until then.

Besides, ever since Mal had taken her out for Atlantean cuisine, she had become rather addicted to it. Although she felt a little strange with this deviation in their plans, there was just no way she could pass up an opportunity to stuff her face with some of Poseidonis’ finest delicacies. Did that make her a glutton, she wondered?

”They do something amazing to the lobster down here, I can’t even describe it!” said Karen, remembering the seafood (by the far the most common type of restaurant here) she and Mal had tried.

Ophelia hadn’t taken Karen out with the intention of making it a date, at least not consciously, but she couldn’t deny that their time together lent itself very easily to a date-like structure. Of course, Karen was a smokeshow, so it was easy enough to feel attracted to her, but she could also sense that the other girl seemed rather inexperienced and a little awkward when confronted with even hints of anything romantic or sexual. This was something Ophelia found adorable, but she didn’t want to make her feel uncomfortable, so she decided to keep her advances on the safe side.

Then again, Ophelia’s ‘safe’ could mean something very different to most other people.

”Name the place and we’re there, darling,” she said, giving Karen her most charming smile.

---

3:02 PM
Flipper Grill, Poseidonis

”You should definitely try the Snow Crab,” said Karen, having already set her menu on the table. She herself would be getting the cape lobster, her favorite so far. ”You’ve been down here for a couple of weeks—haven’t you tried any seafood yet?”

The booths at the restaurant were quite comfortable and plush, and the aroma of grilled shrimp, lobster, and crab permeated the air. It was guaranteed to wet your appetite even if you weren’t particularly hungry before.

Ophelia had barely opened her menu before Karen made her suggestion, and at that, promptly shut it.

”Snow crab it is then!” She set her menu down on the table then leaned her chin on the back of her hand, elbow on the menu. ”I’ve been out a few times, but I’ve never been to Atlantis before, so I haven’t been to a place like this before. You’ve been to the city before, right?”

Karen resisted the urge to correct her—the city was called Poseidonis, it was the civilization that was called Atlantis. ”Several times with Mal, yes. He took me around to all the best restaurants while I was getting used to being—”

Karen paused. She’d almost said a little too much, again. That was getting embarrassing.

”...Used to being so far underwater. It was really hard on me at first,” said Karen, smiling awkwardly.

Ophelia caught the pause, noticing Karen’s hesitation but not giving it too much thought. She took a sip of her water from the straw, leaving behind a red lipstick stain on the clear plastic.

”Then you’ll have to be my guide,” she said, winking. ”We’ll take turns taking each other out on the town and wining and dining.”

Karen chewed on the side of her lip for a moment, now feeling quite certain that Ophelia considered them to be on a date. Now that she thought about it, it kind of made sense—back at their dorm, she’d mentioned “owing her a dance”. It made Karen feel just a little guilty, as she had mainly agreed to accompany her in order to get to the bottom of this weird college drug ring that was apparently going on.

”Sure, just remember: I don’t drink!” Karen reminded her. That was probably weird for a college kid, but she had her reasons.

Ophelia’s jaw dropped. “You don’t drink? Why not? What do you even do for fun?”

Ophelia realized, when she took the time to, that she might have the beginnings of a mild alcohol problem herself. But it wasn’t a real issue, at least, no one would think it was because she was young and pretty and charismatic, and not old and decrepit and nasty. She was never told she should slow down, or take a break, she was handed another drink instead. There was a part of her that almost felt sad, but that was only a part, and it was only almost.

”Oh, you know...eating good food. Sparring with Mal. Just...seeing the sights? Lots of things, I guess,” said Karen, shrugging. She had always managed to find ways of amusing herself, perhaps because her free time could often be sparse. When you were a superhero, you didn’t tend to waste time stressing over what you couldn’t do.

Besides, nobody wanted to see what a drunk Lady Arcana looked like, right? The very idea of the property damage that would result from that was enough to chill her blood.

Ophelia shrugged. ”You’ll have at least one drink with me though? Even just a glass of wine?”

Karen quirked her brow at the other girl, but offered her a sympathetic smile. ”I guess one drink wouldn’t hurt—but that’s it, alright?”

---

10:33 PM
Club Blu

It was loud.

Louder than almost any other place Karen had ever been before—and she’d fought her way through alien battlefields. The flashing lights were honestly making her a little nauseous. It made her wonder how Ophelia found this fun.

She was wearing her new dress, and so was feeling quite awkward. Whether or not anyone was staring at her, however, was a bit of a mystery because of the disorienting environment she now found herself in. She could already see some very suspicious clouds of smoke drifting overhead, which certainly added to the unique atmosphere of the place.

Karen had also remembered that she didn’t really know how to dance, either. Not club-style, at least. As of now she was basically just doing “The Sheperd”, for a lack of any better dance moves.

Ophelia looked like she couldn’t be more in her element. After an hour or so spent getting ready, she’d finally decided on a Saint Laurent black minidress with one huge ruffled sleeve. The shoes on her feet, her earrings, and necklace were all gold with pearl detailing, and somehow, despite the extravagance of her outfit, she couldn’t have seemed more comfortable. Around her flocked other club-goers, who all seemed to know her, or at least want to.

Ophelia pulled Karen to her side, introducing her to the people around her without using any of their names. This was probably because she didn’t actually know any of them. Also probably because the music was so loud even if she had known them Karen probably wouldn’t have heard them.

“The gentlemen in the suit, the Dior suit, not the Dolce and Gabbana, invited us up to his VIP booth,” she shouted over the music.

One of the people around the girls handed Ophelia two glasses of something pink, and presumably alcoholic. Ophelia handed one glass to Karen, and held the other up for a toast before bringing it to her lips.

“Let’s go!” she said, pulling Karen away from the crowd and towards a glass spiral staircase in pursuit of the man.

While Karen toasted Ophelia, she wasn’t about to take a drink of that janky-looking pepto bismol. She didn’t see it being poured, and so there was no telling what they might’ve slipped into it. Still, she didn’t want to be rude by pouring it out—she might be able to test a sample of it in a bit.

”Some kinda grain alcohol mixed with milk. Not from a cow, either.” A familiar voice helpfully whispered into Karen’s ear ”Probably not what we’re after.”

”I’ll warn you, I only know how to do dorky K-Pop dancing,” said Karen, glancing around at the other clubbers.

Ophelia laughed as they climbed the stairs. ”Oh, we aren’t dancing, the VIP area is mainly for bottle service and whatnot.”

The VIP area was only a little quieter than the main floor, and played music a bit more tame. There was a separate bar area, and many different seating areas with plush couches and low tables. On one side there was a glass wall that overlooked the lower level’s dance floor.

They walked over to one of the seating areas closer to the glass wall. Ophelia sat them down in the center of the couch. Three other men took up the other chairs, two on the opposite couch and one on the chair. One of the men on the couch began pouring drinks for the group from a bottle out of the bucket of ice at the center of the table. The man on the chair lit a cigarette for himself, but handed it to Ophelia as she held out her hand for it.

”What did you say your names were again?” Ophelia asked.

“Hernando, Alejandro, and Alfonso,” the man said, lighting another cigarette, pointing to each of the men as he introduced them.

The second man, Alejandro handed everyone their drinks.

”Oh, thank god, this pink thing I was handed is honestly horrendous,” she said, grabbing the new drink and setting the old one on the glass tabletop. ”I might has well been drinking nail polish remover and perfume. It’s wonderful to meet you all, by the way. Forgive me if we’ve met before, I’m terrible with names! This is my darling… friend, Karen.”

Karen glanced around at the three men, doing her best not to crinkle her nose. They were Spaniards, that much was obvious. Perhaps it was partially due to having been raised by a Mexican-American father who loathed the Spanish, but something about these guys seemed off. She knew that way of thinking wasn’t right, though. Besides, it was probably just their overzealous amount of cologne.

Still, despite her apprehension, she accepted the offer glass—though she still didn’t have any intention of drinking anything they gave her. She was just collecting samples. Leaning in to whisper to Ophelia, she waited until the men were distracted. ”Ophelia, don’t drink any of it, alright?”

Ophelia had just taken a rather substantial swig of her drink as Karen whispered this to her.
”Oh, fer…” Came that familiar voice in Karen’s ear once more… followed by a distinctive ‘Whap!’ that could only be generated by some particularly aggrivated facepalming.

”Well, now it’s too late, and I might as well just finish the drink.”

She took another couple swigs and set the glass down all with surprising grace. Ophelia had never been one for caution, she liked the saying ‘fortune favors the brave’. Not because she necessarily believed it, more because it let her act recklessly without feeling like she was being outright reckless. She at least liked to think that if nothing else, it was endearing. One could be as crazy or nonsensical as they liked as long as they were pretty and rich enough. Ophelia was.

Her glass was refilled almost as quickly as she had set it down, and placed back into her hands.

”I’ve already had one, she said with a cute shrug, ”One more couldn’t do much more damage, could it?”

Karen’s jaw dropped.

”Yes! Yes it could!” she hissed, her eyes darting over to the guys. They hadn’t glanced back over towards them just yet. ”If sketchiness had a smell, it’d be named Alejandro!”

Ophelia didn’t seem to be taking this threat seriously at all. Had she ever? Now that she thought back to their discussion at the dorm, her roomie had never really seemed particularly distressed about the possibility of having been drugged. That was a very strange way for a young girl alone in a strange place to act.

Where did all this carefree confidence come from?

”Karen, sweetie, live a little.”

Ophelia took a drink from her new cup, then took a drag off her cigarette.

”Anyway, I’m bored of this place. Let’s see if there’s somewhere that’s a little more fun.” She turned to the men, who were talking amongst themselves. “Excuse me, gentlemen, this venue really isn’t my cup of tea. Is there anywhere a little more exclusive we could go?”

Hernando smiled. “Of course, we were just talking about that. Alejandro here has a friend with a penthouse who’s throwing a party there. We were planning on heading there a little later but we could go now if you’d like.”

”I’m sure we’d love that. Just let me finish my drink.” She said with a smile, raising her glass to him, then to her lips again.

Karen narrowed her eyes at the lot of them for a brief moment, before easing back in her seat and away from Ophelia. Raising a hand to seemingly brush her ear, she whispered, ”They’re about to take us to some sort of penthouse.”

---

11:17 PM
Rooftop, Across the Street from Club Blu

With a slight grunt, Mal rose from his perch on the far-side of the roof, carefully tip-toeing around the small pile of soda cans and gyro wrappings that had accumulated at his feet in the two hours or so he’d been there before Karen and Ophelia had even arrived as he shook some of the pins and needles from his legs.

He’d never say it out loud, but these long stakeouts weren’t exactly the light of his crime-fighting career.

The fact that he hadn’t worn this particular get-up in nearly a year and it was riding just a little uncomfortably in equally uncomfortable parts of his anatomy wasn’t exactly helping matters either.

All things considered, par for the course for today.

A low growl rattled in his throat as he snapped down his visor. He’d have to fix that tomorrow.

...As well as many… other things in his life, if today had proved anything.

”Right behind you.”

Heroes Reborn: Year Six (OPEN)

February 7th; 1:32 PM
Lycus Dorm, University of Poseidonis, Atlantis

"Right, going!" said Karen quickly, turning to the door without hesitation and throwing it open. Virgil was on the other side, having apparently been quite eager to offer his own apologies. At least he was in the right frame of mind for the verbal lashing that was undoubtedly about to ensue.

Bjorn was also still in the hallway. Whether or not he would also be subject to her little brother's wrath was anyone's guess. That being said, she was suddenly grateful to now be in her position instead of theirs.

Nodding her goodbyes to the both of them as she passed, Karen started on her way back to the Asterion dorm, where she would inevitably face an even greater challenge: scandalous fashion.

Heroes Reborn: Year Six (OPEN)

February 7th; 1:31 PM
Lycus Dorm, University of Poseidonis, Atlantis

"Ophelia didn't tell me the address, but I'm going with her to another party tonight, like I said. I want to use your chemical scanner to analyze those drugs, said Karen. She had honestly hoped to avoid getting Malcolm too wrapped up in all of this, as she didn't know whether or not he would approve of her jumping back into the hero game so soon after she had arrived. But there was no getting around that now, was there?

Still, wasn't it a little strange that he had brought a whole duffel bag full of obviously heavy equipment with him? What on Earth was he planning to do down here?

"And don't worry, I know not to take any drinks I didn't see poured, and I definitely know not to take any weird pills," she reassured Malcolm.