Blizz

《 Super H.E.R.O. 》

The ugly looking human calling itself Freakshow laid out a plan that Mire thought was at least reasonable. Some of them going in, others staying out as bait. It made sense, even if she talked too much. Mire would've actually gone through with it, had the gunshot not happened. They knew what those loud noises meant, humanity used them to scare things off and kill to eat. That much was clear, so it stood to reason that the sniper had shot one of the Terrazards. At that point, things stopped being so complicated. People starting rushing in, the ground started splitting wide open. The fungal monster was smart enough that they could make their own plan at this point.

"Now they know we're here. That plan means nothing at this point. I'm going in, and I'm making them all do the hard work for us," Mire said, to the remaining heroes who hadn't sprung into action yet. They flicked their arms out, and small particulates of spores drifted downwind. "Don't follow me."

And then they calmly started walking forward, trudging across concrete and metal wire fences while the others did their work. Mire's body pulsed and contorted, like something was writhing under the surface of all that mycelium. Bulbous growths start poking through like septic boils, which sprouted new fungus that sloughed off to the ground. It took root, and Mire just kept marching forward towards the hole that the Terrazards were coming through.

"YOU EAT HUMANS, DON'T YOU?! COME AND TAKE A BITE FROM ME, THEN!" Mire's awful voice boomed across the ruins of the plant, alerting swathes of Terrazards to their exact location. It might've been stupid, but that was what they wanted to happen. Their hypae structures stretched out, making Mire seem taller than they actually were as their limbs grew more and more gaunt by the second. The eyes of Terrazards nearby turned and glared at the strange, vaguely humanoid looking entity just beckoning to be eaten alive. They were intelligent, but many of them saw this and took it to be a sign of absolutely stupidity. And so, an entire herd of the beasts descended on their fellow Leftover. Like a swarm of starving piranhas they bit, chewed, clawed and tore into what they thought would be a warm and bloody snack. But instead, their teeth bit down into saturated sludge. Mire didn't fight back, they wanted the creatures to get as much of a mouthful as possible, so chunk after chunk of their body fell away in a feeding frenzy.

And then, the flood came.

Every Terrazard that bit into a piece of Mire had its mouth, throat and stomach filled with enzymes as Mire's body exploded. It was like a giant water balloon, splashing everything around the living colony. In an instant, the feast became a mass grave as the Terrazards melted like warm wax, right before the eyes of everyone who thought to observe. They howled and writhed in agony, but their bones and their flesh leaked to the ground. Limbs decayed in seconds, bones and blood mingled into a slurry. And in the runoff, there sat Mire. Tattered and practically swimming through a puddle of half-decomposed gore. Even the ground they stood on was slowly dissolving.

A few were still alive, but their bodies were in such bad shape that it was just cruel not to kill them. Mire sloshed through the pit of rotting guts and enzymes, subsuming the survivors into what parts of their body still squirmed. The Terrazards didn't even fight back.

As effective as it was, the move Mire made was filling the area with a ghastly stench.

"That was easy."

Recollections: Under The Sycamore Tree Part. 1

Layla: You all hurt me so much! I hate you!

Also Layla: Nooo I'm one of you!!!!1!

girl 💀

《 Super H.E.R.O. 》

<sub>@Hitman
[Lex.file/img/crpt/transmit/Powers.Hugo]

W̶i̷s̵e̶m̵a̶n̶.̵E̵n̶c̵r̷y̵p̴t̷e̶d̶: I am watching over our heroes as we speak. Alien Angel and Alpha are at the same location as our off-record mission. I convinced her to fix that problem for us. They do not suspect it was me. See below.

[File Sent]

[File Reception Confirmed]</sub>

---

---

#######: Who I am does not concern you. We were here before you, and we will be here well after you. Begone, and pray I don't alert ICOSA to your presence.

!@#$: PHFT! That's a bluff. I know they're in town, sure, but they're too busy putting sticks up Hero One's asses.

#######: Less busy than you think, Alien Angel.

There was a brief pause that suggested that Wiseman hit the mark. Then this image suddenly popped up...



#######: I have eyes and ears everywhere on this planet. I know your every move, and I will bring the entire world down upon your head if you so much as dare to stand in my way. It will cost me nothing.

!@#$: Wrong...it'll cost you Hero One. I take it the ICOSA doesn't know about you and your possible spies around this little get-together-of-white-collar-villains. Wanna bet I blow the whistle and endanger your whole op JUST to...say...take advantage of the chaos?

#######: The chaos that I will reap from. Entertain me for a moment: Do you think it was a coincidence that you were in the area when the Fiendish Five assaulted a parade?

Again, a pause. Then another message:

!@#$: ...forget putting the stick up your ass...there's one there already.

#######: You are playing my game, little vigilante, as is your cohort across the bar. The web is deeper than you can understand. You will listen to me carefully, or you will not walk out of there alive.

!@#$: ...touche chico...knew you were dangerous when I couldn't Meta Hack your background...but seriously, Chilax. Life and Death situations, ok I get that. Silly chess games? Do you always have to be the smart ass in the room?

#######: Perhaps I overestimated your competence. When I say "you," I am referring to J̶̪̫͍̺̞̺̘̠̜̳͒̐̌̎̊̽̓ͅͅa̷̢̧͖͓͍͇͕̹̥̖̤͓̝̠͖̥̽̑̃̓̄̿͘͘ ̶̢͈͈͓̝̗̪͚̻̦̭̭̰̂͌̋̍̚͝͝ȩ̵̣͈̣͉̗̹̦̖̘̭̟͇͔̝͙̤̈͛͊̄ ̷̤̯̫̩̻̞̖͙͇͔͂͂̍̂̌̅̾̕͠A̴̢̛̙̳̞̘̞̳͉͋̈͑̌͐̇̌̋͗̊͑̔̂̊̂r̷͙̺̜̠͌̀̍̽̇̑̔͌͐́͆̽̓ ̶͕̞̮̖̇̈̎̓͛͗̿̽̆ḿ̶̢̪̩͈̻̲̖̬ ̷͎̝̬̩̘͊̑̈́͑͋̏͂̇͂͂̕͠s̴̛͙͚̿͑̾́̓̈́͗͗̎̆̀̑̓͊̒͝ţ̸̻̤͖̿̓̿̾̊̓̈́́̿͘͝ȑ̴̡̙̤̱̞͌̄̈́̅̋͑̽͜͝ ̷̡̲̲͔̠̞̮̦̦̠̍̏̾̚ ̵̼̙̹̙̞̮͋͐̃̀̉̊̔̈́̔͝͠͠g̸̢̓̉͌͂̃̀͋̚ as well. Alternatively, I could let ICOSA chase him across the world once I leak this document into the databases of the first few countries I think of. You wouldn't want that for your dear friend, now would you?

!@#$: ...my friend is someone who got fed up with the system and guys like you telling them who their "friends" are supposed to be. He and I saw shit early. More so...threats like that are empty...try living in a cage for who knows how long THEN tell us about "real" hell like country-wise witch hunts...

!@#$: ...but I know when I'm outgunned and outskilled...fine. I'm aborting this.

#######: I believe you. You have exactly three minutes to get as far away from this building as humanly possible before half of the First World receives a transmission of the ITP bug that I just rooted into your devices.

#######: Do not test me further.

!@#$: Who's testing? This clearly wasn't bugging you...just don't screw this up. Take it from someone who DOES know first hand: don't give the ICOSA any ammo by being discovered here...now the hard part. Getting my friend away from the place...I hope you realize how much trouble I went through to just get him in his position.

#######: If you understood your place in the grand scheme of what we do, perhaps you would grasp just how little your troubles mean to me. You are alive, and that is more than can be said for the last series of self-serving amateurs who invoked my wrath.

#######: Two minutes and thirty seconds. Move.

!@#$: Yeah yeah quit barking. I'll have Alpha fake a stomach bug and we leave. Still, Cillax.

!@#$: To quote a wrestler: "Sometimes it's "Hell" getting to "Heaven".

Recollections: Under The Sycamore Tree Part. 1

yeah Layla kinda bit herself in the ass with this tbh

Recollections: Under The Sycamore Tree Part. 1

Local cursed girl gets slammed with facts and logic

Recollections: Under The Sycamore Tree Part. 1

Interactions: Everyone

The House on the Hill

---

For all his gloom, Jack liked to consider himself an optimist. There was usually some silver lining to the way things went, and in this case, it was that the alliance had real potential thus far. Greenwood wasn’t asking for much in return: Vengeance when they had already been craving for it themselves. There was something to resonate over, and then Layla had to throw a wrench in it. Jack’s fave twisted up in bitter contempt for a brief moment, before falling back to dead neutral.

“I may not have been there, but I've got the memories of an apparition who’s life was destroyed after what you did. I know how Naomi egged her on, how Alizée was getting ready to leave, before Naomi fired her up and served her up to Wolfpack on a silver platter!”

What exactly did she know, when the Void Heart had its possessive hooks in her just as much as Alizeé?

“Naomi said it herself. Alizée was getting ready to leave. She knew Alizée was easy to anger, she knew Wolfpack was on the way. She knew everyone needed to leave, else suffer. And what did she do?!”

“It's her fault Alizée is dead. Naomi goes, or I refuse to acknowledge this alliance.”

”The Wolfpack is responsible for her death,” Jack corrected, with a firm tone. ”The Wolfpack opened fire on her, executed her as they had fully intended to execute everyone present during that incident. Alizeé left Auri’s shop before that incident happened, immediately after we discussed a now-deceased member’s connection to the government. She left because she felt cornered, and Alizeé’s mind went to dangerous places when she did not feel safe. ”

”I remember that conversation.” Stormy cut in. ”What you’re hearing there is Naomi Rodgers talking to me. I had to step in to keep her from attacking. That was right before the Wolfpack arrived. Britney can tell you she wasn’t up to anything great.”

”Thank you. Naomi is entirely innocent regarding the death of Alizeé, as I am certain the House of Card’s spy knows, since she was clearly present. Greenwood, pay no mind to her,” Jack said, addressing the others and disregarding Layla. ”Layla is not Sycamore. She is associated with the Temple.” It was taking considerable restraint and patience for Jack to not delve into a tangent on why she wasn’t actually one of them. So instead, he just left it largely at that.

”Now… To answer your question. Some of you already know me from our first meeting during the festival. Jack Hawthorne, red-purple Adept, I specialize in shadow-based spells and dimensional navigation. I can be virtually anywhere on this planet within a matter of seconds. I have been to the Void and back, and I personally followed the Stygian Snake through several worlds during the conflict against it.” That sounded like bragging, but Ruby was asking about who they were and what they could do, so it was the answer she got. Jack thought it would be best if they just completely avoided entertaining Layla’s bullshit anymore than that. It was opened, it was shut, it was in the past.

The adults were talking, not her.

Recollections: Under The Sycamore Tree Part. 1

Oh Layla

You sweet summer child

If only you knew what that would do for you

《 Super H.E.R.O. 》

Wiseman showed up at HERO Three fully armored, strapped to the teeth as usual in full hero gear. He didn’t live far from here, since he pretty much always stayed at Hero One when he wasn’t busy. This evaluation didn’t mean much to him in the grand scheme of things. He knew that Magician, true to his name and background, was an egotistical, chronic snark. Wiseman had dealt with egotistical people before, people who thought they ruled the world. ICOSA was among those people, but the constant smug tone of this inspector bounced off of Wiseman like water off a stone bridge. He simply didn’t feel intimidated by this. If anything, he didn’t seem to even pay attention to half of Magician’s rambling.

Sat on a couch in the lobby, Wiseman was immersed in work. Three separate holographic screens emitted from his Lexicon floated before him, and his fingers quietly flew across them as he did the best he could to support the two away teams from a distance. ”Yes, yes, I’ll see the doctor when I have a moment,” he said, dismissively. Though it was impossible for Wiseman to actually ignore anything happening in the room right now thanks to his powers, he was more worried about doing his job. Wiseman had done Powers a favor by being here today, filling a spot that wouldn’t slow him down. Other heroes couldn’t necessarily hack into two different locations at the same time from a distance, so it meant little whether Wiseman was actually present.

On one screen, he flew through lines of code on a keyboard, hacking into the building that Blast’s team was set to investigate. With a bit of teamwork from ALISA, his access to the Peterson estate left no trace in HERO’s databases. He worked his way into one camera of the building, which had a connection to a central server where security was managed. A simple, yet elegant bug was placed in there, allowing him remote access to every camera in the entire building.

Quickly, Wiseman wrote up a script on a second screen. His fingers were a blur across the holographic keyboard as line upon line quickly spooled out. He loaded the script into the Lexicon’s processor and typed out a message that only ALISA would be able to read. Transmit this script to their wristwatches, it will give them remote access to security.

Giving ALISA the reigns to relay the script served to also give her the same secretive, personal access to the cameras Blast, Gematria and the rest of their team would receive a secure, undetectable channel that would allow them to discreetly view the feed of the building’s cameras. It would connect their watches to the Peterson estate’s security network, with a screen over the bug preventing anyone from recognizing the access at all. In simpler terms, they’d be untraceable as long as they didn’t get caught by someone looking over their shoulder. With that finished, he closed the two screens out and kept working in silence.

A third screen displayed a map of the Fixeon plant’s electrical grid and camera network. A quick inventory showed it didn’t have much working, but Wiseman was able to spot a working camera outside and a set of cameras that had different model numbers and MAC hardware under the building.

And there was something the gun-toting hero did not appreciate. So he took care of that first. The junior inspector supervising the team would suddenly hear Wiseman’s voice coming through her ICOSA issued communication device. ”Remove your finger from the trigger of your weapon, inspector Perez. Or I will embarrass you in front of your superiors for pointing it at my teammates.” This was said aloud, in front of Rune, Oracle and the other unlucky heroes who were being evaluated. If Magician heard that, then he heard it.

His hands once again blazed across a keyboard as he patched into the team’s communication channel. ”Fixeon team, this is Wiseman. I have located a hoard of Terrazards not far from your location. They haven’t seen you yet, so you can ambush them.” The heroes at the plant would receive a top-down map of the location, as well as a snapshot of the camera that Perez wasn’t far from, indicating the exact location of the Leftovers.

”And our suspicions about unusual activists here are likely correct. There is a third party setup of cameras and portable spotlights beneath the plant. They are likely operating on a portable energy source, since the building does not have power. There is little more I can do to support you for now, but if your supervisor does not warn you of incoming danger from outside, I will try to myself. Wiseman out.”

A small part of Mire hated the term “Leftover.”

Humans had too many words for things. Every little expression they made, every little emotion or turn of disposition they developed had to be catalogued. The ones that thought there was no such thing as a cost too step were called “Machiavellian,” but the ones who were reasonable about it were “pragmatists.” The ones who looked after their own people were “altruistic,” but also “considerate” or “compassionate.” Depending on where they came to be, they were “American” or “Russian” or “Japanese” and then there were other words on top of that. Names, titles like “inspector.” None of these words meant little more than a damn way of remembering one face from the other as far as Mire was aware. Humans used so many names and some of them made them better than each other. “Director” was just a word, just a few guttural sounds in one language on this earth, but all these heroes seemed to be scared shitless of the one calling himself that and “Powers.”

Director Powers didn’t seem much different than all the others. Maybe a bit bigger, but Mire didn’t care about that sort of thing. But on top of it all, they had to slap labels on Mire. They didn’t care about even having the name “Mire,” let alone the name “Leftover.” To them, it just meant that whatever got the label was to be killed. Except that didn’t even matter when Mire was a leftover. They were still “alive” by human definition.

So when they crawled out of the metal vehicle along with Lab Rat (who they didn't recognize) and the other heroes, Mire didn’t feel concerned over what they were here for. Getting rid of Leftovers, but they wanted a Leftover to be a hero? ”Is that human on the tower coming down here or is it going to annoy us?” They asked, hearing Ardent mention the ICOSA “supervisor.” ”Are we supposed to care what they think? If that’s the case, why would they put me here? When they already don’t mean anything to me?”

Mire turned and look up at Perez off in the distance. That strange approximation of a humanoid skull glared right through her, emotionless but obviously unamused. ”They want me to get rid of the same thing that I am, but they want me to stay here… Fine. Where are they? They’re my problem, now. But if that human points that… ”Weapon” or whatever they’re called at me when I get rid of them, it goes next.”

Recollections: Under The Sycamore Tree Part. 1

Interactions: Everyone

House on the Hill

---

The kid started talking, and Stormy listened while Sully went to work getting these two up on their feet.

"She wanted to know why I went after the 'old man'. I think she was talking about someone I tailed... black, has a suit and cane, white hair, weird accent. Shayton. Worked with the bikers, then killed that asshole Judas, back at the club. For his bosses. Same creeps those bikers were working with, maybe, I don't... I thought maybe oneof them killed Ashley, and your friends too. Shayton said both he and his bosses had nothing to do with the murders, said he'd kill Father Wolf himself. 'Bad for business'. But he got away before I got real answers, back at that stupid Halloween thing where you were partying."

So, he had been taking his own initiative to track down answers, and almost paid a price he couldn’t afford for it. Stormy wanted to say something about how he was just a kid and shouldn’t be going off on his own like that. But he very clearly wasn’t just an ordinary kid, no more than any of them were back in the old days. ”Well, you’re alive and in one piece now,” he noted. ”That’s the important thing, isn’t it? You might want to keep close to some of us for the time being. Just in case this woman wants to finish the job.” And if the rest of them weren’t around to act coherently as a group, then Clancy might not hold up against another shot from… Whatever those crystals were.

Greenwood walked in, at long last. They certainly picked an interesting time to make their appearance. Introductions started off, and everyone quickly forgot about the incident. Which was fine to Stormy. He stayed next to Luca to let the aura of his magic ward off the Rot, smoking like a green chimney. ”I met a few of you a few nights ago. Glad to meet all of you at last,” he said to the Greenwood Coven.”

When he heard the name “Rosefey” come up, it reminded Stormy of a certain arrogant prick from the young days of the days of the Sycamore. Stormy looked to the side and saw that the resident edgelord, Jack, was visibly cringing at the memory of that guy. At least he had the sense not say anything out loud. Yeah, me too.

"I know some of you have been very interested in an alliance. Our membership has also been interested in an alliance. I believe we can help each other with our respective issues in St. Portwell."

"Not just the 8th St. Coven, but with this serial killer that's after you. Yes, you might be thinking that the murders have nothing to do with us - they do; Sullivan is a target. Not just that, I'd be lying if I didn't think something bigger was going on that would, inevitably, drag us and the rest of St. Portwell into it. So, we're going to be proactive and see what we can help you guys with on that front."

Today was a damn good day, in Stormy’s opinion. This meeting so far was going mostly great, a plan was formed, an alliance was coming to bare. Though, Ruby’s concerns had him wondering what could be building beneath the surface. The PRA had been ramping up their hold lately, 8th St was clearly working for a higher up, he’d have to look into the Elite. And then there was the matter of the woman who made an attempt on Clancy’s life. There was no question that all roads were going to one place in due time. But where?

"Any comments, questions, concerns, fuck you's?"

”Is there anything we can do to return the favor?” Stormy asked. ”You’re going to a lot of trouble by stepping up for us, it’s only fair if we give back.” Of course, they didn’t really have much in the first place, but that was why Stormy tried not to outright promise something in particular. Rather, he just left the question open for them to fill in themselves.

Recollections: Under The Sycamore Tree Part. 1

Interactions: Sully @Atrophy, Clancy @Zombiedude101

House on the Hill

---

Stormy would’ve been lying if he said he fully understood what was going on. Between the gloomy guy’s absolute dissertation on the Pale Horse, High Priestess and Raven Jones and all the other things he felt the need to compress into one instance, the history professor in him was struggling to keep up. But his attention went fully onto the child who bathed in. Clancy. The kid who had been “killed” the night they all came together again, maimed at Kari’s house and now very clearly not doing so great. He must’ve been an Abscised. Stormy’s jaw tightened at the sight of his ragged flesh and the clamor around him of people trying to help. He didn’t even fully register the fact that Adora had proper Abstraction yet.

That tension only got worse when Luca came up and destroyed the odd crystal plaguing the kid. He fell over, and didn’t get back up. That was when Stormy came over. He ran up to Sully and swiped his hand across the Chalice, enveloping it in a wreath of green sparks. ”Witchveil for magic resistance,” he knelt down next to Luca and pressed a hand up against his chest. Stormy lit up in shade of green smoke, warding off Apparitions and sapping their strength within his immediate area. ”Phantombane for the Rot. Sully, the Chalice will be fine now. Get them both. And hurry. It won’t last long now.” The combination of Phantombane weakening the Rot and Witchveil protecting the Chalice from magic meant that the artifact would barely get a scratch.

”Once you’re taken care of, tell us who did this to you.” He looked over to the Abscised boy, who wouldn’t be affected by either aura. Concern etched itself on Stormy’s face as he wondered if it was the Wolfpack coming back for revenge.