canaryrose

【 Spy High 】

Carmen "Babel" Hernandez

B A S I C S

N A M E
Carmen María Hernandez

N I C K N A M E / A L I A S
Carm (preferred nickname), C, Car

C O D E N A M E
Babel

A G E (G R A D E)
15 (Sophomore)

P L A C E O F B I R T H
Miami, Florida

G E N D E R
Female (she/her)

A P P E A R A N C E

P H Y S I C A L D E S C R I P T I O N
Carmen could perhaps best be described as petite. She's smaller than the average girl her age, and is more often than not the smallest person in the room. However, just because she's small doesn't mean she doesn't have any muscle or any curves on her. In fact, Carmen is slightly curvy, although she's still filling out. She's not particularly buff, but she's certainly more lean and toned than the average teenage girl her age. Carmen's skin is a light, tawny brown. She has a few scattered pimples on her face, but it's far from acne. Her hair is a deep brown, almost black color. It has thick, bouncy curls. Even though her hair would be long if straightened, Carmen's hair goes just a bit past her shoulders. She could put it into a ponytail if she wanted, but if she's not exercising she prefers to have it down. Her doe-like eyes are a deep, ochre brown, and are framed by long eyelashes.

H E I G H T
5'0"

W E I G H T
123 lbs

E T H N I C I T Y
Colombian-American

P E R S O N A L I T Y

P E R S O N A L D E S C R I P T I O N
Most people, immediately upon meeting her, would describe Carmen Hernandez as smart. It's certainly an apt evaluation. She is a bright young lady, able to memorize facts and vocabulary and tiny idiosyncrasies with lightning speed and accuracy. She spouts off information like an encyclopedia, and she's quick to complete puzzles. When she tells other people about her subjects of interest, her words are big and her tone confident. She is sure she knows this. She knows she knows this. And, through that, people become confident in her knowledge, too. Carmen prides herself on her intelligence more than anything else. If you asked her and she answered honestly, she'd probably say it was her best trait.

But what underlies this intelligence is a lot of insecurity. Carmen's deepest fear is that she is not good enough. Smart enough, pretty enough, social enough, athletic enough, whatever- that base instinct of hers simply tells her that she whatever she does is not enough. Which is a maddening feeling for a girl who is labelled a genius. So she studies and works at her passions to the point of obsession. She can spend hours upon hours working at something, refusing to stop for rest or even to eat. It's been described as scary by those who have witnessed it, but to Carmen it's just another facet of her personality. It's not necessarily tied to her insecurity- it's just something that she's always done. She slips into a task or a project and loses herself in it, forgets to come up for air. It's one of the reasons she's such an unstoppable force of learning. All this comes with a cost, however. Carmen cannot work forever. She always crashes at some point or another. And her crashes are ugly. She's not a party animal, but she has been known to get horribly depressed and anxious. She manages to conceal them well enough, but her crashes are one of her greatest shames. It's almost as if she can't set sustainable expectations and goals for herself! She also has a tendency to put all her self-worth into one entire thing.

Carmen could also be described as a giant nerd. She loves to read, and watch cartoons, and study her favorite subjects Especially linguistics. She has spent years of her short life learning languages. Although, oddly enough, this hasn't made her any better at actually talking to people. In what is possibly the worst trait ever for a spy, Carmen is socially awkward as hell. She and the instructors have worked hard to train herself out of it, but it still peeks through occasionally. It comes out more as being adorable than anything, but Carmen often makes embarrassing social missteps. She compensates for this by being nice as hell. She's a giant sweetheart, and unabashedly expresses love for her friends. She's a bit too honest, however, and often says things that probably shouldn't've been said. Due to all this and frequent rejection, she's actually quite shy and bashful, and prefers her books and her studying and her turtles to actual people. She doesn't make for the most exciting friend, either. She prefers her books and her studying to doing stuff, and she's probably the last person to suggest anything fun.

L I K E S

• Languages Languages are Carmen's fucking jam. Her two native languages are English and Spanish, but she's fluent in 3 more, conversational in 2, and a novice at 3. She's been obsessed with linguistics since she was a kid, and her obsession shows no sign of stopping. Which is good, because it's what got her into Prom in the first place. She often spends hours reviewing flashcards and talking to herself and trying to find conversation partners.
• Turtles: Carmen has two red-eared slider turtles, who she loves. They're named Shelley and Pakha. Did you know that there are 356 species of turtle? She sure did.
• Coffee: For a 15-year-old, Carmen has a raging coffee addiction. She can be found with a cup of joe in her hand at nearly every hour of the day. ... And sometimes night.
• Grades: The validation that a good grade gives makes Carmen extremely happy. There's nothing more reassuring than an A+ on that report card.
• Learning New Things: Whether it's about cultures, languages, wildlife, or even something completely unimportant, Carmen loves to learn. She seeks out information like a cat seeks out treats- unrelentingly and like she'd die without it.
• Organization: Whether it's color-coding, organizing by theme, or just a lot of neat little boxes, Carmen enjoys a good, organized space. Plus, some really cool colored pens and flashcards.

D I S L I K E S

• The Cold: A Florida girl at heart, Carmen cannot stand any weather below 40 degrees Fahrenheit. She's never even seen snow, for God's sake! This might become a problem.
• Interruptions: When Carmen is in the zone, interrupting her is basically a death wish. This goes double for missions, too- she hates when they're dragged off track.
• Barbecue: How could anyone like tangy, messy, over-flavored, over-cooked meat? Texan food sucks.

G O A L S

• Languages: Carmen wants to be fluent in at least 3 more languages by the time she ends high school. Even with the Neural Sync it's a difficult task, but one she's totally committed to! Thousands of flashcards will probably be sacrificed to this pursuit.
• Study Abroad: Carmen would really like to go to a top-rated university anywhere except the United States- preferably in a place where they don't speak English! And then she'd like to... well, whatever. Work for the CIA? Get a PhD? She's not entirely sure.

F E A R S

• Failure: Carmen's greatest fear is that she'll fail. Fail at learning languages, fail a class, fail a mission, lose a match, whatever. There has always been a niggling belief at the back of her mind that she is simply not good enough. Everyone believes she is a genius, so if she fails it's the end of the world.
• Needles: It's weird and dumb, but Carmen is deathly scared of needles. Every time she has to get a shot she either has to be held down screaming or she passes out.

S E X U A L P R E F E R E N C E
Carmen's never really been interested in dating, but she thinks she's bi? Maybe? She tries not to think about it- her parents would kill her if they found out she was dating. Especially a girl.

H I S T O R Y

B R I E F B I O
Carmen María Hernandez was born in the city of Miami, Florida. Her mother and father were both fairly recent Colombian immigrants at the time, having came to Miami just a few years before she was born. Her father, a civil litigation attorney, was named Juan José Hernandez, and her mother was a preschool teacher named Claudia Hernandez. The couple married in their early 20s and, shortly after having their first child, Andrés, left their home of Bogóta, Colombia because of civil unrest in their home country. The young couple settled in Miami with their infant son and, a few years later, had Carmen. Following Carmen were a surprise set of twins, Emiliano and Nicolas. Only Carmen's father had a good grasp of the English language, so they spoke Spanish at home. Carmen learned Spanish first and English soon after. They're her two native languages, and she grew up speaking both. Carmen was an odd child. Her parents knew the importance of a good education, so they read to her every night and ensured she had a good grasp of language. But they quickly learned that Carmen was progressing at a lightning-fast speed. She said her first word at 8 months of age, started to speak in full sentences by 2, and taught herself to read picture books by 2 and a half. By the time she entered kindergarten, she was already reading chapter books on her own. Her parents were blown away. She must be a genius, they thought. Carmen received constant praise, testing, and more and more challenges.

By the time she was 6, Carmen could read at the college level. She could write better than any other 2nd grader, and was constantly lauded for her achievements. She could best high schoolers in terms of intelligence, even. But she was bored. No amount of instruction or books could satiate her thirst for learning. So she got on the Internet and looked for things to learn.

Her third language, after English and Spanish, was French. She read a book about Paris, and fell in love with the city and with French culture. She was 6 when she started studying French, and Carmen quickly learned that she was fantastic at learning languages. It was fun, and challenging, and there was so much to learn, so she focused all of her energy on that. Her parents were skeptical at first, but supplied her with a lot of the materials she needed. By 7, she was at an intermediate level in the language just through self-study! Her parents were flabbergasted- but wanted to push her even further. If she could do this, what else could she do? They hired her a French tutor, and convinced her to learn a fourth language of her choice. Carmen was more than happy about this choice, and, after a lot of deliberation, chose Mandarin as her fourth. Soon after, her parents took her out of school and decided to homeschool her. A mind like hers couldn't be wasted in a public school!

So Carmen was homeschooled, and pushed harder than ever before. Wanting to get her out of the house, her mother enrolled her in tennis lessons. Carmen wasn't too into tennis, but her mom insisted, so she did it anyways. She was more into languages. And turtles. At 9, Carmen got her first turtle, Shelly, whom she LOVES and TREASURES and adores and that turtle was probably her only friend. At 10, she was fluent in French and approaching fluency in Mandarin, so she took on a fifth language- German. Also at this age, she started to appear in some local magazines, newspapers, and TV segments as a "child genius"- a 10-year-old who had taught herself 3 languages apart from her own! People ate this up. Carmen never quite made national news, but she did make plenty of local news, which... put even more pressure on her. If she wasn't smart, how could she live up to all these expectations?

By 13, she had achieved fluency in German, but she was still working at Mandarin. It was so hard! She had been working at Mandarin for nearly five years, and she still wasn't good enough. She was getting frustrated- so she doubled down. Along with her regular studies, she crammed as if studying for an exam. And then, she decided to throw Russian in there for good measure. It was a good challenge! That was where she started to crash and burn. She started to struggle. Carmen's focused brain did not view failure- or even anything less than a tremendous success- as an option. So she pushed, and pushed, and pushed... until she shattered. Suddenly, doing anything was a challenge. Carmen, a 14-year-old styled prodigy, lacked the energy to even get out of bed in the morning for months. She was furious at herself- she had failed. She was a failure.

Her parents, concerned for her mental health, started debating putting her back in public school. Around this time, her father received a truly amazing job offer from a firm in Swindon, Texas. Although they were loathe to leave the community that Miami offered, they were unable to refuse, and so moved. Just entering high school, Carmen was enrolled in Millard Fillmore High School. It was her first school in 8 years, and she was understandably nervous. She had left her few friends behind in Miami, and had no one but her twin brothers (who were 3 years younger than her), and her older brother (who was a senior when they moved) with her. Besides for her brother, who DEFINITELY didn't wanna talk to her in school, she was alone.

On maybe her third day of her freshman year, Carmen was called to the principal's office out of the blue. She wasn't entirely sure why, and everyone yelled at her retreating form when she left English class, but it had to be for something good! On that walk, though, she was grabbed by a shadowy figure and, before she could react, she was unconscious.

She awoke in an interrogation room, facing an intimidating Russian lady. (Russian! How cool! I bet she speaks Russian... maybe she'll practice with me!) Carmen was scared in that moment, but what that lady said intrigued her. There was a spy organization based in the school, and they wanted... her? Logically, Carmen should've refused this offer, but... if this lady was telling the truth, this was a purpose for her. She could use her totally useless skills to help the world. So she said yes.

Ever since, Carmen has been a member of PROM. She just got out of her freshman training year, and has hardened up a bit since then. She's learned to fight and talk to people and maybe a little torture, and the Neural Sync really helped her with her language learning! She finally achieved fluency in Mandarin, and is approaching fluency in Russian, and added four more languages- Arabic, Japanese, Portuguese, and Hindi. PROM is really insisting she focus on Arabic, but the others are... well, okay. Its stressful, but it's cool. What teenager wouldn't wanna travel the world and also kick ass?

S K I L L S E T

T A L E N T S

• Language Mastery: Carmen is fluent in five languages (English, Spanish, Mandarin, French, and German) conversational in two (Arabic and Russian), and a novice at three (Portuguese, Japanese, and Hindi). She probably knows the most languages among the PROM agents, and is often a designated translator.
• Intelligence: Carmen learns and disseminates information at a rapid pace, and can easily maneuver her way around puzzles, riddles, and basically any problem.

G A D G E T S

• Multi-Colored, Multi-Use Pens: In what seems to be a hallmark of a study addict, Carmen has a variety of pastel and regular-colored gel pens that she keeps with her at nearly all times in a cute little pencil holder. These pens do contain ink, and Carmen frequently uses their ink for normal purposes, but the pens actually have two cartridges. The ink one is easy enough to activate, but the other requires a special touch. Each contains a special poison, tranquilizer, knife, or serum meant to make Carmen's job a bit easier. They're discreet, and she can stick someone quite easily with one. This is ironic, considering she's deathly afraid of needles. That's why none of them are meant for use on herself! She also has a pen that's just a communicator.
• Translator Watch: Sometimes, Carmen forgets a word. That's alright! Everyone forgets a word. That's why she has her handy-dandy translator watch. If she flicks a button on it, it can discreetly listen into the conversation and accurately translate everything the person is saying. It uses context clues to figure out what she might need to say back, and supplies a useful translation. It's discreet. And the watch is a cute pastel blue! It also tells the time... and it has a Tamagotchi.
• Eavesdropper: Carmen can easily attach a small gadget connected to a pearl earring earpiece on someone's shirt or maybe drop it in a plant. The small thing is nearly invisible, but it records and transmits audio directly to her earpieces, allowing her to eavesdrop on nearly any conversation. This is especially helpful because it records audio and allows her to translate things she doesn't necessarily understand later.

O T H E R

• Carmen's birthday is on April 28th, making her a Taurus!
• Her codename comes from the Old Testament story of the Tower of Babel, which, in Abrahamic traditions, is the origin of humans speaking different languages.
• Carmen is on the JV tennis team at MFHS. She is terrible.

Grading

G R A D I N G

S T R E N G T H: C
^{Definitely couldn't bench-press a man, but she could bench-press a good 30 pounds. Certainly stronger than most other normal, unathletic girls.}

I N T E L L I G E N C E: A+
^{With an estimated IQ of around 150, Carmen is a certified genius. She's the smartest person in most of her classes, and generally knows a lot about a lot of things. She has an easy time with school.}

C L O S E Q U A R T E R S C O M B A T: C+
^{She can punch someone just fine, and she's been rigorously trained in martial arts just like any other PROM member. However, she isn't... amazing at it. She can be easily beaten in a fight by anyone that's remotely better.}

F I R E A R M S: D
^{Carmen has been trained in firearms, but really doesn't like them. She has shit aim, and the noise more often than not startles her. They also just sort of unsettle her. She carries one, but prefers other tools.}

C O N C E A L M E N T / D I S G U I S E: A-
^{Knowing ten languages makes it a bit easier to disguise herself than it is for most, and Carmen has no issues keeping cover. However, if she's put into a compromising situation she quickly self-destructs.}

S T R A T E G I C T H I N K I N G / L E A D E R S H I P: B-
^{Carmen can make up a good strategy in a snap, but actually leading is where her issues come into play. She's not assertive at all.}

M E N T A L A G I L I T Y/I N T U I T I O N: B+
^{She's a rather rigid thinker, but, due to her intelligence, thinks on her feet alright.}

H A C K I N G/C O M P U T E R O P E R A T I O N: D+
^{Do not put this girl in front of a computer and expect her to know how to do anything other than Google or Microsoft Word.}

O B S E R V A T I O N / I N T E R R O G A T I O N: B+
^{She has never been comfortable with interrogation, but has been extensively drilled on the topic because of her unique skillset. She often serves as a translator or a substitute interrogator in interrogations. She observes speech quite well and body language to a lesser extent.}

L I N G U I S T I C S: A+
^{Linguistics is where Carmen's star shines. She's fluent in English, Spanish, French, German, and Mandarin; conversational in Russian and Arabic; and is a beginner learner in Hindi, Japanese, and Portuguese. Learning languages is her thing. She's fantastic at it, and it's the skill that got her into PROM in the first place. She's the designated translator of the group, and often takes over communications in foreign countries.}

T E A M W O R K / C O O P E R A T I O N: B+
^{Carmen works well with most people, and has an easy time deferring to other people's leads. Maybe too easy, though- she might be too meek of a team player.}

【 Spy High 】

Carmen Hernandez

B A S I C S

N A M E
Carmen María Hernandez

N I C K N A M E / A L I A S
Carm (preferred nickname), C, Car

C O D E N A M E
Babel

A G E (G R A D E)
15 (Sophomore)

P L A C E O F B I R T H
Miami, Florida

G E N D E R
Female (she/her)

A P P E A R A N C E

P H Y S I C A L D E S C R I P T I O N
Carmen could perhaps best be described as petite. She's smaller than the average girl her age, and is more often than not the smallest person in the room. However, just because she's small doesn't mean she doesn't have any muscle or any curves on her. In fact, Carmen is slightly curvy, although she's still filling out. She's not particularly buff, but she's certainly more lean and toned than the average teenage girl her age. Carmen's skin is a light, tawny brown. She has a few scattered pimples on her face, but it's far from acne. Her hair is a deep brown, almost black color. It has thick, bouncy curls. Even though her hair would be long if straightened, Carmen's hair goes just a bit past her shoulders. She could put it into a ponytail if she wanted, but if she's not exercising she prefers to have it down. Her doe-like eyes are a deep, ochre brown, and are framed by long eyelashes.

H E I G H T
5'0"

W E I G H T
123 lbs

E T H N I C I T Y
Colombian-American

P E R S O N A L I T Y

P E R S O N A L D E S C R I P T I O N
Most people, immediately upon meeting her, would describe Carmen Hernandez as smart. It's certainly an apt evaluation. She is a bright young lady, able to memorize facts and vocabulary and tiny idiosyncrasies with lightning speed and accuracy. She spouts off information like an encyclopedia, and she's quick to complete puzzles. When she tells other people about her subjects of interest, her words are big and her tone confident. She is sure she knows this. She knows she knows this. And, through that, people become confident in her knowledge, too. Carmen prides herself on her intelligence more than anything else. If you asked her and she answered honestly, she'd probably say it was her best trait.

But what underlies this intelligence is a lot of insecurity. Carmen's deepest fear is that she is not good enough. Smart enough, pretty enough, social enough, athletic enough, whatever- that base instinct of hers simply tells her that she whatever she does is not enough. Which is a maddening feeling for a girl who is labelled a genius. So she studies and works at her passions to the point of obsession. She can spend hours upon hours working at something, refusing to stop for rest or even to eat. It's been described as scary by those who have witnessed it, but to Carmen it's just another facet of her personality. It's not necessarily tied to her insecurity- it's just something that she's always done. She slips into a task or a project and loses herself in it, forgets to come up for air. It's one of the reasons she's such an unstoppable force of learning. All this comes with a cost, however. Carmen cannot work forever. She always crashes at some point or another. And her crashes are ugly. She's not a party animal, but she has been known to get horribly depressed and anxious. She manages to conceal them well enough, but her crashes are one of her greatest shames. It's almost as if she can't set sustainable expectations and goals for herself! She also has a tendency to put all her self-worth into one entire thing.

Carmen could also be described as a giant nerd. She loves to read, and watch cartoons, and study her favorite subjects Especially linguistics. She has spent years of her short life learning languages. Although, oddly enough, this hasn't made her any better at actually talking to people. In what is possibly the worst trait ever for a spy, Carmen is socially awkward as hell. She and the instructors have worked hard to train herself out of it, but it still peeks through occasionally. It comes out more as being adorable than anything, but Carmen often makes embarrassing social missteps. She compensates for this by being nice as hell. She's a giant sweetheart, and unabashedly expresses love for her friends. She's a bit too honest, however, and often says things that probably shouldn't've been said. Due to all this and frequent rejection, she's actually quite shy and bashful, and prefers her books and her studying and her turtles to actual people. She doesn't make for the most exciting friend, either. She prefers her books and her studying to doing stuff, and she's probably the last person to suggest anything fun.

L I K E S

• Languages Languages are Carmen's fucking jam. Her two native languages are English and Spanish, but she's fluent in 3 more, conversational in 3, and a novice at 3. She's been obsessed with linguistics since she was a kid, and her obsession shows no sign of stopping. Which is good, because it's what got her into Prom in the first place. She often spends hours reviewing flashcards and talking to herself and trying to find conversation partners.
• Turtles: Carmen has two red-eared slider turtles, who she loves. They're named Shelley and Pakha. Did you know that there are 356 species of turtle? She sure did.
• Coffee: For a 15-year-old, Carmen has a raging coffee addiction. She can be found with a cup of joe in her hand at nearly every hour of the day. ... And sometimes night.
• Grades: The validation that a good grade gives makes Carmen extremely happy. There's nothing more reassuring than an A+ on that report card.
• Learning New Things: Whether it's about cultures, languages, wildlife, or even something completely unimportant, Carmen loves to learn. She seeks out information like a cat seeks out treats- unrelentingly and like she'd die without it.
• Organization: Whether it's color-coding, organizing by theme, or just a lot of neat little boxes, Carmen enjoys a good, organized space. Plus, some really cool colored pens and flashcards.

D I S L I K E S

• The Cold: A Florida girl at heart, Carmen cannot stand any weather below 40 degrees Fahrenheit. She's never even seen snow, for God's sake! This might become a problem.
• Interruptions: When Carmen is in the zone, interrupting her is basically a death wish. This goes double for missions, too- she hates when they're dragged off track.
• Barbecue: How could anyone like tangy, messy, over-flavored, over-cooked meat? Texan food sucks.

G O A L S

• Languages: Carmen wants to be fluent in at least 3 more languages by the time she ends high school. Even with the Neural Sync it's a difficult task, but one she's totally committed to! Thousands of flashcards will probably be sacrificed to this pursuit.
• Study Abroad: Carmen would really like to go to a top-rated university anywhere except the United States- preferably in a place where they don't speak English! And then she'd like to... well, whatever. Work for the CIA? Get a PhD? She's not entirely sure.

F E A R S

• Failure: Carmen's greatest fear is that she'll fail. Fail at learning languages, fail a class, fail a mission, lose a match, whatever. There has always been a niggling belief at the back of her mind that she is simply not good enough. Everyone believes she is a genius, so if she fails it's the end of the world.
• Needles: It's weird and dumb, but Carmen is deathly scared of needles. Every time she has to get a shot she either has to be held down screaming or she passes out.

S E X U A L P R E F E R E N C E
Carmen's never really been interested in dating, but she thinks she's bi? Maybe? She tries not to think about it- her parents would kill her if they found out she was dating. Especially a girl.

H I S T O R Y

B R I E F B I O
Carmen María Hernandez was born in the city of Miami, Florida. Her mother and father were both fairly recent Colombian immigrants at the time, having came to Miami just a few years before she was born. Her father, a civil litigation attorney, was named Juan José Hernandez, and her mother was a preschool teacher named Claudia Hernandez. The couple married in their early 20s and, shortly after having their first child, Andrés, left their home of Bogóta, Colombia because of civil unrest in their home country. The young couple settled in Miami with their infant son and, a few years later, had Carmen. Following Carmen were a surprise set of twins, Emiliano and Nicolas. Only Carmen's father had a good grasp of the English language, so they spoke Spanish at home. Carmen learned Spanish first and English soon after. They're her two native languages, and she grew up speaking both. Carmen was an odd child. Her parents knew the importance of a good education, so they read to her every night and ensured she had a good grasp of language. But they quickly learned that Carmen was progressing at a lightning-fast speed. She said her first word at 8 months of age, started to speak in full sentences by 2, and taught herself to read picture books by 2 and a half. By the time she entered kindergarten, she was already reading chapter books on her own. Her parents were blown away. She must be a genius, they thought. Carmen received constant praise, testing, and more and more challenges.

By the time she was 6, Carmen could read at the college level. She could write better than any other 2nd grader, and was constantly lauded for her achievements. She could best high schoolers in terms of intelligence, even. But she was bored. No amount of instruction or books could satiate her thirst for learning. So she got on the Internet and looked for things to learn.

Her third language, after English and Spanish, was French. She read a book about Paris, and fell in love with the city and with French culture. She was 6 when she started studying French, and Carmen quickly learned that she was fantastic at learning languages. It was fun, and challenging, and there was so much to learn, so she focused all of her energy on that. Her parents were skeptical at first, but supplied her with a lot of the materials she needed. By 7, she was at an intermediate level in the language just through self-study! Her parents were flabbergasted- but wanted to push her even further. If she could do this, what else could she do? They hired her a French tutor, and convinced her to learn a fourth language of her choice. Carmen was more than happy about this choice, and, after a lot of deliberation, chose Mandarin as her fourth. Soon after, her parents took her out of school and decided to homeschool her. A mind like hers couldn't be wasted in a public school!

So Carmen was homeschooled, and pushed harder than ever before. Wanting to get her out of the house, her mother enrolled her in tennis lessons. Carmen wasn't too into tennis, but her mom insisted, so she did it anyways. She was more into languages. And turtles. At 9, Carmen got her first turtle, Shelly, whom she LOVES and TREASURES and adores and that turtle was probably her only friend. At 10, she was fluent in French and approaching fluency in Mandarin, so she took on a fifth language- German. Also at this age, she started to appear in some local magazines, newspapers, and TV segments as a "child genius"- a 10-year-old who had taught herself 3 languages apart from her own! People ate this up. Carmen never quite made national news, but she did make plenty of local news, which... put even more pressure on her. If she wasn't smart, how could she live up to all these expectations?

By 13, she had achieved fluency in German, but she was still working at Mandarin. It was so hard! She had been working at Mandarin for nearly five years, and she still wasn't good enough. She was getting frustrated- so she doubled down. Along with her regular studies, she crammed as if studying for an exam. And then, she decided to throw Russian in there for good measure. It was a good challenge! That was where she started to crash and burn. She started to struggle. Carmen's focused brain did not view failure- or even anything less than a tremendous success- as an option. So she pushed, and pushed, and pushed... until she shattered. Suddenly, doing anything was a challenge. Carmen, a 14-year-old styled prodigy, lacked the energy to even get out of bed in the morning for months. She was furious at herself- she had failed. She was a failure.

Her parents, concerned for her mental health, started debating putting her back in public school. Around this time, her father received a truly amazing job offer from a firm in Swindon, Texas. Although they were loathe to leave the community that Miami offered, they were unable to refuse, and so moved. Just entering high school, Carmen was enrolled in Millard Fillmore High School. It was her first school in 8 years, and she was understandably nervous. She had left her few friends behind in Miami, and had no one but her twin brothers (who were 3 years younger than her), and her older brother (who was a senior when they moved) with her. Besides for her brother, who DEFINITELY didn't wanna talk to her in school, she was alone.

On maybe her third day of her freshman year, Carmen was called to the principal's office out of the blue. She wasn't entirely sure why, and everyone yelled at her retreating form when she left English class, but it had to be for something good! On that walk, though, she was grabbed by a shadowy figure and, before she could react, she was unconscious.

She awoke in an interrogation room, facing an intimidating Russian lady. (Russian! How cool! I bet she speaks Russian... maybe she'll practice with me!) Carmen was scared in that moment, but what that lady said intrigued her. There was a spy organization based in the school, and they wanted... her? Logically, Carmen should've refused this offer, but... if this lady was telling the truth, this was a purpose for her. She could use her totally useless skills to help the world. So she said yes.

Ever since, Carmen has been a member of PROM. She just got out of her freshman training year, and has hardened up a bit since then. She's learned to fight and talk to people and maybe a little torture, and the Neural Sync really helped her with her language learning! She finally achieved fluency in Mandarin, and is approaching fluency in Russian, and added four more languages- Arabic, Japanese, Korean, and Hindi. PROM is really insisting she focus on Arabic, but the others are... well, okay. Its stressful, but it's cool. What teenager wouldn't wanna travel the world and also kick ass?

S K I L L S E T

T A L E N T S

• Language Mastery: Carmen is fluent in five languages (English, Spanish, Mandarin, French, and German) conversational in two (Arabic and Russian), and a novice at three (Portuguese, Japanese, and Hindi). She probably knows the most languages among the PROM agents, and is often a designated translator.
• Intelligence: Carmen learns and disseminates information at a rapid pace, and can easily maneuver her way around puzzles, riddles, and basically any problem.

G A D G E T S

• Multi-Colored, Multi-Use Pens: In what seems to be a hallmark of a study addict, Carmen has a variety of pastel and regular-colored gel pens that she keeps with her at nearly all times in a cute little pencil holder. These pens do contain ink, and Carmen frequently uses their ink for normal purposes, but the pens actually have two cartridges. The ink one is easy enough to activate, but the other requires a special touch. Each contains a special poison, tranquilizer, knife, or serum meant to make Carmen's job a bit easier. They're discreet, and she can stick someone quite easily with one. This is ironic, considering she's deathly afraid of needles. That's why none of them are meant for use on herself! She also has a pen that's just a communicator.
• Translator Watch: Sometimes, Carmen forgets a word. That's alright! Everyone forgets a word. That's why she has her handy-dandy translator watch. If she flicks a button on it, it can discreetly listen into the conversation and accurately translate everything the person is saying. It uses context clues to figure out what she might need to say back, and supplies a useful translation. It's discreet. And the watch is a cute pastel blue! It also tells the time... and it has a Tamagotchi.
• Eavesdropper: Carmen can easily attach a small gadget connected to a pearl earring earpiece on someone's shirt or maybe drop it in a plant. The small thing is nearly invisible, but it records and transmits audio directly to her earpieces, allowing her to eavesdrop on nearly any conversation. This is especially helpful because it records audio and allows her to translate things she doesn't necessarily understand later.

O T H E R

• Carmen's birthday is on April 28th, making her a Taurus!
• Her codename comes from the Old Testament story of the Tower of Babel, which, in Abrahamic traditions, is the origin of humans speaking different languages.
• Carmen is on the JV tennis team at MFHS. She is terrible.

Grading

G R A D I N G

S T R E N G T H: C
^{Definitely couldn't bench-press a man, but she could bench-press a good 30 pounds. Certainly stronger than most other normal, unathletic girls.}

I N T E L L I G E N C E: A+
^{With an estimated IQ of around 150, Carmen is a certified genius. She's the smartest person in most of her classes, and generally knows a lot about a lot of things. She has an easy time with school.}

C L O S E Q U A R T E R S C O M B A T: C+
^{She can punch someone just fine, and she's been rigorously trained in martial arts just like any other PROM member. However, she isn't... amazing at it. She can be easily beaten in a fight by anyone that's remotely better.}

F I R E A R M S: D
^{Carmen has been trained in firearms, but really doesn't like them. She has shit aim, and the noise more often than not startles her. They also just sort of unsettle her. She carries one, but prefers other tools.}

C O N C E A L M E N T / D I S G U I S E: A-
^{Knowing ten languages makes it a bit easier to disguise herself than it is for most, and Carmen has no issues keeping cover. However, if she's put into a compromising situation she quickly self-destructs.}

S T R A T E G I C T H I N K I N G / L E A D E R S H I P: B-
^{Carmen can make up a good strategy in a snap, but actually leading is where her issues come into play. She's not assertive at all.}

M E N T A L A G I L I T Y/I N T U I T I O N: B+
^{She's a rather rigid thinker, but, due to her intelligence, thinks on her feet alright.}

H A C K I N G/C O M P U T E R O P E R A T I O N: D+
^{Do not put this girl in front of a computer and expect her to know how to do anything other than Google or Microsoft Word.}

O B S E R V A T I O N / I N T E R R O G A T I O N: B+
^{She has never been comfortable with interrogation, but has been extensively drilled on the topic because of her unique skillset. She often serves as a translator or a substitute interrogator in interrogations. She observes speech quite well and body language to a lesser extent.}

L I N G U I S T I C S: A+
^{Linguistics is where Carmen's star shines. She's fluent in English, Spanish, French, German, and Mandarin; conversational in Russian and Arabic; and is a beginner learner in Hindi, Japanese, and Portuguese. Learning languages is her thing. She's fantastic at it, and it's the skill that got her into PROM in the first place. She's the designated translator of the group, and often takes over communications in foreign countries.}

T E A M W O R K / C O O P E R A T I O N: B+
^{Carmen works well with most people, and has an easy time deferring to other people's leads. Maybe too easy, though- she might be too meek of a team player.}

【 Spy High! 】CLOSED

time to maybe bless yet another roleplay of yours with my presence. or maybe not. >:)

《 H. E. R. O. 》

When the seaplane touched down on St. Florian, Jamie hopped up from her seat with glee. That plane ride had been so long, but they were finally here! For most of the plane ride, she had glued herself to the window and gazed at the Caribbean. Or what she could see of it. Most of it had just been water. But now it was land! Because they were here. The plane came to a stop smoothly, and as soon as she could, Jamie wanted out. In a swift motion, she took her two bags (her suitcase and her beach bag), put on her sunglasses and hat, and walked out into the sunlight. Jamie was the first one out of the plane, right after Powers, of course.

Once she was fully out of the plane, he shook out her fishtail-braided hair and took a deep breath of the humid island air. God, how she loved the Caribbean. Castleburg was nice and all, but it was also nice to be somewhere warm. With beaches. And crystalline blue water… She hadn’t been to the Caribbean since she was a teenager, and she was happy to be back. Especially given the last few months she had had, which had been interesting, to say the least. Jamie had had a “vacation” a few months ago, but it hadn’t been much of one. Sitting around on her couch for a few weeks waiting for her body to heal wasn’t a vacation. That was why she was happy to have a real vacation!

Plus, all of her friends were here. Well… some. Really just Tom and Joseph, but they were plenty fun. In preparation for the tropics, Jamie was wearing a buttoned maxi dress, leather sandals, a floppy hat, and sunglasses. She had also braided her hair into a fishtail, which she was quite proud of! There were a ton more outfits in her suitcase (she had mostly borrowed from her younger self, but had also done a lot of shopping), so she was prepared for anything that would come their way!

Jamie listened to Powers and Naomi Lewi. Dinner at 8:00! She would be there. “See you then!” she said as Powers walked off. This whole place seemed so fun. And the beach was calling to her! Jamie stepped forward to take her envelope, opened it, and squinted at its content. “Sea Turtle Hut, huh…” she muttered, and took out her keychain. It was a sea turtle! How cute! Jamie squealed a teensy bit. Then, she grinned wide and dashed off to go look for her room.

Unpacking wasn’t too strenuous of a process if you didn’t actually unpack. Jamie just sort of dumped her suitcase onto the floor, threw some bags of toiletries into the bathroom, and ran back out again. It was too nice of a day to unpack! She’d do it later. Or maybe never. A suitcase was a fine dresser, even though her room had one. Her room was nice, actually. It was themed around the sea turtle, so it was blue and green all over. But Jamie couldn’t be entertained for long by looking around her room. She needed something to do!

Without bothering to put on sunscreen (sunscreen was for chumps), Jamie grabbed her beach bag and left her villa. Now it was just time to find someone to hang out with. She heaved a sigh. Everyone she knew seemed to be in their villas. But she did see someone she had met a few times! An awkward, teenager-looking guy was wandering around. Jamie racked her brain for his name. Chad? Chase? She was pretty sure it was Chad, but she could be wrong…

Jamie ran up to him anyways. “Hey, Chad!” she yelled, and stopped right in front of him. “This place is so nice. There’s a beach, and a bar, and an ocean, and a lot of cool stuff… wanna hang out, maybe? We have a lot of time until dinner with the director. We could build a sand castle or, like, go swimming… it’ll be fun!” Jamie grinned. What was a vacation for if not hanging out with people?

@Duoya

---

---

This was not a vacation.

Patricia entered the conference room with a scowl on her face. She had been promised a full week off- this was total bullshit! If everyone else got to go to a fancy resort in the Caribbean, why shouldn’t she get a week off? Stupid emergency meetings… Patricia flopped into an armchair next to Eliza, slung her head back, and groaned. “Ughhhh!” Once she was done being dramatic, she sat up and gave Eliza a light smile. “Hey, Ellie. Hug?” When Eliza said yes, Patti leaned in for a long, sweet side-hug. She almost wanted to kiss her, but everyone was here! Even people she didn’t know…

Looking around the room after hugging Eliza, Patti noticed several people she had never met. Which was strange! There was a brown-haired man, a dark-skinned woman, and a gangster-looking blonde lady, all of whom she didn’t know. She looked at the three of them for a short moment and then shrugged. Didn’t matter. If they were here, they were here. Whatever.

The last couple of months had been… strange for Patti, to say the least. After that whole fiasco with the coup, she had had a lot of bonus money and a lot of time off. After she had been accused of murder, no one had wanted her back at HERO One for quite a bit. So… she had gone on vacation! A real one, with her mom. They had gone on a week-long cruise to the Caribbean a month or so ago, which had been a ton of fun. They had never really gone on vacations like that before, so it was exciting to Patti. And in Castleburg, people had started to recognize Patti. In a positive way! Apparently, that whole disaster had netted her some fame. Which was… weird.

Patti sat up straight in her seat when Christina walked into the room. She looked serious. Patricia took her manila folder and immediately popped the peppermint into her mouth. Hopefully that hadn’t been important or anything. She put her best serious face on and listened to Christina speak.

Well, this sounded… serious. The Black Boron, huh? A superhero killer. An old one. Shouldn’t he be in a nursing home or something? An old dude couldn’t pose that much of a threat, although she supposed she should probably listen to Christina. Couldn’t be too hard though. Plus, they got to go undercover. So Patricia opened her folder, and sorted through its contents.

“Oh God, please don’t give Eliza a Dungeons and Dragons character sheet,” Patricia groaned, jokingly, and glanced at her girlfriend. Having involuntarily played in a campaign or two with Eliza, Patti knew how excited her girlfriend could get about this nerd stuff. “Please don’t tell me you brought any dice today.”

“Anyways, this shouldn’t be too hard. Not harder than the Gugliano bit, at least. I think I’ll be… hm. Keeping with the Irish theme, I’ll be Patricia O’Connor? My first name’s Irish enough. But we definitely shouldn’t all keep our first names! Mine just sounds Irish. Ooh, and we all need backstories… definitely not gonna be a prostitute this time, so I’ll be a gangster or something…” It had been a while since Patricia had actually gone undercover, so she was looking forward to it again. She had definitely toughened up since the last time they had went undercover.

@Amethyst

The Sisters of the Dying Branch

_{Featuring: Caleb Bishop @Danvers, Alayna Castellano @Qia, Calypso Barnes @canaryrose, Dakota Lawson @Hitman, and Iris Aderast @Blizz}

---

---

Dakota was curiously looking at the trunk of Calypso’s Jeep, and more specifically, her bag, which was taking up an awfully large amount of space in the trunk of the car. Dakota’s bag was large (made for backpacking), but it was so full of stuff that it looked like it was holding three times as much as it was actually supposed to hold. Dakota gave the gigantic backpack a few shoves to push it into the back of the trunk when she suddenly heard somebody yell “Shotgun!” before hearing the sound of running. Dakota jumped back, slamming the trunk shut, and made a beeline for the passenger side door, but by the time she had gotten there, Caleb was already in the seat with a cocky smile on his face. Dakota laughed. "You do know I called shotgun first, right?" she said with a surprisingly self-assured smile. "I called it, so it’s my seat!" she declared boldly, swinging the car door wide open and proceeding to get into the vehicle anyway. Acting as if Caleb did not exist, or was otherwise part of the seat, Dakota then proceeded to sit down in his lap, lounging back into him and kicking her boots up onto the dash. She leaned back into him, crushing their bodies together, and flicking her locks directly into his face, a very wide and boisterous smile on her face as she messed with Caleb.

The teen, who had been idly pondering on whether he should’ve brought his skateboard, suddenly felt the body dive on top of him. Blinking, he remained uncharacteristically quiet for a few moments before letting out a loud bark of a laugh. “You’re funny Dak.” Caleb grinned back, seemingly unperturbed by the unexpected weight of the younger witch on his lap. Reaching an arm around her, he moved to prod her playfully in the cheek with his index finger. It was something he always did when his little sisters would insist on following him around. “Everyone knows it only counts when the car’s in view!” He announced proudly, happy that he had remembered the rules of the made up game.

She laughed with that same endearing hyena cackle before eventually leaving Caleb be, rolling off of his lap. "Fine, take your front seat...but you’re not getting any of my snacks, you cheater!” she declared. She then stuck out his tongue at him before making her way to the back seat, swinging open the door and plopping down in the back-row seat behind Caleb.

The teen shrugged his shoulders when she moved away, resuming his attempts to turn on the radio. “Your loss! I was totally fine with sharing.” He mused idly as he fiddled with the array of buttons and twisty things. Nothing seemed to work and if Caleb had thought about it carefully, he probably would’ve realised it was because the car engine was not yet turned on. Though it’s probably for the best. I can never keep still when I’m on road trips. Giving it up as a bad job, Caleb leaned back in his seat, an arm moving to hang out of the open window.

Though Dakota had conceded her pursuit for the front-row seat, she was far from done with her quest to bother Caleb. She first rested her feet up on the chair in front of her, leaving her boots directly due left of Caleb’s face. She then casually lifted one of her hands, snapping her fingers a few times. "Magic Hands," she uttered, but unfortunately for Dakota, nothing happened. She grit her teeth. "Come on, I said Magic Hands!" she declared again, and this time she pulled the spell off, a light blue hand of ethereal energy slinking out from underneath her real hand and moving into the trunk. The hand of energy rummaged through Dakota’s bag for a few moments, before returning with a large bag of chocolate pretzels, which Dakota then proceeded to (very loudly) pop open. She grabbed a handful and popped them, one-by-one, into her mouth, the way a trainer would feed a tamed seal. She chewed them (quite loudly, on purpose) before grinning and tossing the oversized bag over the seat to Caleb. "Sharing is caring," she said with a roll of her eyes. "I expect the front seat on the way back though. Provided we don’t all get killed in Baltimore. Actually, I take that back. I want the front seat in the hearse."

Calebs gaze had followed Dakotas as she focused her attention on the trunk, a flicker of mischievousness pulling at the edges of his lips. His eyes glanced at the pair of boots, the laces slowly unravelling before looping around the headrest and tying themselves into neat bows. ”Sure, it’s all yours.” Caleb nodded once he had finished his task, catching the pretzels deftly between his outstretched hands. Also grabbing a handful, he purposefully stuffed as many as possible into his mouth before turning to grin at the witch. ”’ese are ‘eally ‘ood!” He exclaimed as he chewed on the satisfying mix of sweet and savoury, coughing for a few moments as he nearly choked on the tiny baked pastries. Might need a hearse sooner at this rate... He laughed when he had finally recovered and managed to come up for some much needed air.

Casting another Magic Hands, Dakota sent another paw of magic back into the seat, which returned with a small teal box that had the word ‘Marlboro’ printed on it. Showing no signs of hesitation nor regret, Dakota opened the box and removed a cigarette, resting the rest next to her as she lifted the coffin nail to her lips, holding two fingers at the end. A small blue flare shot up from her fingertips, lighting the cigarette, from which Dakota gave a puff. Dakota did have the decency to roll down the window and exhale outside of the Jeep, but this action was still not enough to prevent the faint smell of cigarette smoke from filling the inside of the car. ”Any of y’all want one? I’m, like, 90% sure this brand doesn’t fuck up your lungs or anything. Those are pretty good odds, you know! It’ll kill you much slower than fighting vampires either way.."

Iris came out of preparing a little late compared to most, while everyone else was in the car and getting lung cancer, she was trotting along outside to the sickly yellow Jeep she assumed Dakota and Calypso were in. She looked wildly more presentable compared to what she looked like this morning; Her messy hair was smoothed down behind her shoulders, and she was carrying a small backpack with numerous things in it, potions, a vampire book, and a dagger she hoped to not have to use. That wasn’t all she had, in one ear were her earbuds, playing and in her arm was a golem she dusted off. It resembled an owl in shape, and yet was the size of a large raven. How Iris was able to make a golem fly, she couldn’t remember, this golem was old, but she assumed it could have some use. She called it Crone. Crone was in a dormant state, having its heart removed to conserve magic energy, but it could fly easily as a real bird. Iris walked up to the Jeep and saw the smoke, a real Dakota move. She walked around to the other back door and sat in the ugly car next to Dakota. ”Hey, cancerous enough for you?’’ She joked as she carelessly tossed her bag behind her head and into the back, leaving Crone in the floorboards. ”What’d you guys pack? I brought books, birdbrain here and potions. Oh yeah, knife…’’ Iris could smell the cigarette in the car, gross. ”Anyway, you’re Caleb right? Hi, anyway uh...Oh yeah, I brought something. Here, where’d it go...uh. There.” Iris pulled a CD out of her coat pocket, a singular cd just...in there. ”I brought music.” It had a solid black cover with no writing or anything on it and it had just a few songs, though knowing Iris, she was probably the only person in the car who liked what was on it.

Calypso was the sort of person who took the word recommended to mean required. So when she was handed a list of recommended weapons to fight vampires, she took every single item on the list. A rifle, a pistol, a handgun, a flamethrower, some grenades, some brass knuckles, some cool knives… she shoveled them all into her duffel bag while she was in the armory, along with some both normal and silver ammunition that she thought looked right. The armory was a cramped, badly lit shed behind the house. The single lightbulb in the shed flickered on and off. It illuminated all sorts of weapons hanging off of the walls. Most looked somewhat modern, but there were a few delightfully antique weapons hanging off of the walls too. Pre-colonial era, even. Calypso could imagine her ancestors using these.

Once she was done gathering her copious amounts of weapons, Calypso zipped up her now incredibly heavy duffel bag and heaved it onto her shoulder. But it was so heavy that she couldn’t quite lift it, so, with a sigh, Calypso dug her fingernails into her palm and cast a spell to give her arm a bit of added strength. That’s better. With a loud creak, she opened the shed door and went to go pick up the bright yellow suitcase sitting outside. She had packed almost as soon as she had gotten out of the room, neatly folding her clothes, toiletries, and other things into her bag. She had even stowed a spellbook in there. She had changed from her original outfit into something she thought was a bit more city worthy. She hadn’t had to exchange her plain white tank, but she had donned a leather jacket, some jeans, some chic high-heeled black boots, sunglasses, and a cutehead wrap. While she was getting dressed, Calypso seemed to have forgotten they would be fighting vampires. But she had packed tennis shoes, too.

Dragging her suitcase behind her, Calypso walked to her car. Oh! Her smile brightened. Iris, Dakota, and Caleb were already there and… in the car? “Hey, guys! How did you get into the car- Kota!” She caught sight of a Marlboro sticking out of Dakota’s mouth and tutted. A subtle anger filled her, but she kept on her smile. Smoking? In Calypso’s car? Calypso lifted her suitcase and duffel full of weapons into the trunk and then went to the back door where Dakota sat, and slammed it open. “No smoking!” she scolded, and grabbed for the cigarette in Dakota’s hands. “You’re going to give yourself lung cancer, you know! Magic can’t cure lung cancer. And, by the way, my car is not your hotbox.”

”Calypso~!" Dakota moaned, as if she was a young child that had just gotten her favorite toy taken from them. She pouted. ”You’re a really great friend, but you have no sense of adventure." Dakota did not attempt to snatch the cigarette back, though. She did not want to set the car or Calypso’s hair on fire, and Calypso did have a point, although a very annoying point to be sure. ”Fine, fine, I won’t smoke in your Jeep. The window was open, by the way, so that’s not hotboxing. You want to see hotboxing, just wait until we get to our hotel room," Dakota said with a smirk. ”Here, Callie, let me stomp it out…" Dakota moved to get out of the vehicle, but because of Caleb’s trickery, instead just flopped to the floor of the Jeep like a dead fish.

”What in the hell?!" Dakota exclaimed as she climbed back into her seat. ”Caleb!" Dakota shouted, at first annoyed but soon beginning to laugh lightly, as she struggled to untie herself. She eventually managed to do so, pulling her legs off of the headrest. ”You better watch yourself, you! You’ve made yourself a terrible enemy," Dakota said with a good-natured but oddly menacing chuckle, leaning forwards and wrapping her arm around his forehead. She then planted her right knuckle onto the top of his head and proceeded to give Caleb a brutal noogie. ”You should know I’m much more dangerous than any of those vampires, you dummy!”

Caleb good-naturedly let himself be subject to the noogie, head tilted back, unable to contain the reams of carefree laughter that tumbled from his mouth. “Sorry it was just so tempting!” He finally managed to utter breathlessly, arms moving to wrap around his chest which was now aching slightly. “You should’ve seen your face though! You looked like…like-” Trailing off as he burst into another fit of laughter, a hand moved to wipe some tears away from his eyes as he admitted defeat, unable to complete his thought. “Well I don’t know what you looked like but it was hella funny!”

Calypso giggled at their antics, high and only slightly obnoxious-sounding. This funny scene almost made her forget about how Dakota had just smoked in her car. Almost. “Looks like someone’s finally met her match! Good prank, Caleb. Don’t worry. Kota’s all bark, no bite. And if she does bite… well, they’re love bites.” She turned and winked at Caleb, and then hung over the side of the window. “Now gimme that cig, Dakota. Full warning: if you smoke any more I’m making you ride with Arken.” With a commanding presence, she held her hand out for the cigarette. When Dakota put it into her hand, Calypso threw it down onto the dirt road and stomped with a vengeance. She took her foot off it and stared at it intently for a few seconds. She knew they were on a dirt road, but there was forest around here… she wouldn’t want to start a forest fire!

“First and only warning. Don’t smoke in my car again,” she warned, stern, but then patted her best friend’s head affectionately. “Now, it’s like…” Calypso checked her phone, “2:15. I spent 10 minutes loading Google Maps and it’ll luckily only take a couple of hours to get there. So we should probably get go- wait… wasn’t Alayna going to ride with us too?”

When it came to thinking about the weaponry she might need for this trip, there was only one thing that had come to Alayna's mind other than relying on her almost natural gift with fire. A hand reaches up to clasp that said thing around her neck, her fingers trailing over the intricate designs etched into it until she feels less intimidated by her current situation. With this as her backup, she should be fine the girl tells herself, as her necklace is enchanted to allow her to steal the strength of, and possibly kill, any supernatural creature it cuts into. Granted, she would have to get close to the creature in question to make it work, but it is merely a failsafe. After all, the biggest threat when it comes to vampires is probably their strength and speed. Take that away and they're all a pile of ash. And perhaps if she repeats this to herself enough, she'll be completely convinced that these monsters she's about to face cannot hurt her. And that Sister Deborah hadn't completely lost her marbles yet as a result of age.
Perhaps.

With her pink suitcase and pink duffle bag in tow, Alayna strides out the backdoor of the main house, looking around before spotting Calypso's vehicle (she'd at least remembered to ask her what it looked like before leaving the meeting earlier). Making her way over, she first notices a small commotion in the backseat, only hearing the end of the dispute once she comes to a stop next to Calypso. The smell of cigarette smoke reaches her nostrils, and she steps forward to catch a glance of the lung killer in Dakota's possession.

"Hi..." Alayna awkwardly interrupts before clearing her throat and adding, "Cal does make a good point, you know, Dakota." Before the ceremony, she would have never had the audacity to speak up this way, but things had changed. The witch couldn't feel more comfortable. And to further express this comfort level, she allows a smirk to play over her face before pouting.

"I was kinda hoping to get a window seat, but I'll find it in my heart to let it slide if I get a few pretzels." Alayna then turns to the girl next to Dakota, putting her hand up in a friendly hello.

“Alayna!” Calypso turned at the sound of her new friend’s voice, and raised her hand in greeting. “You’ll have to take the middle seat, yeah… sorry. Early birds get the worm, y’know? Caleb was the earliest bird of all, so at least you don’t have to deal with any manspreading.” She winked, and then caught sight of Alayna’s bags. “Oh, here! Let me take those… I cast a strength spell on myself earlier, don’t think it’s worn off yet.” With the effort one might use to lift a cup, Calypso lifted Alayna’s bags into the air and placed them gently into the trunk. She smiled and gave a thumbs-up to Alayna. “Go ahead and hop in. I have some scents up in the front seat, so the cigarette smell should go away soon enough. Just maybe… hold your breath.”

Alayna laughed a little at that. "You're right. I probably got off easy." She looks over at Caleb then, mouthing a silent, "sorry", in case she'd taken the joke further than she could. Although the boy had always given her the impression of being easy going the few times they'd spoken, so she probably had nothing to worry about. After her bags were taken care of, she thanks Calypso for her help with a thumbs-up of her own and gets into the car, looking out the window at the main house. A morbid thought occurs to her then, that perhaps this might be the last time she will ever see it; however, she immediately stops questioning her fate and looks away and at her new group of friends. This is what's important now, what she has before her. Whatever they are about to face, whatever they are about to do, they'll do it together. And with that self-assurance, she smiles to herself before laying her head back against the seat.

With everyone now in the car, Calypso wandered to the front seat and hopped in her car. She turned the keys in the ignition, took her sweet time adjusting her mirrors, and tightened her seat belt. Safety first! “Everyone good back there? All buckled up? Going to the city’ll be fun for all you country bumpkins, I’m sure, but we have to arrive alive first!”

”Yeah we’re good…” Iris said from the window seat by Alayna, rummaging through her pocket for the CD she had. ”Here, I packed some music, pop that in and just uh pick something, get some taste in this bitch.” She said reaching up to the front of the Jeep handing it to either one of the two up front who’d grab it first.

Calypso grabbed it, and took a look at the song list. She narrowed her eyes, furrowed her brows, and then chuckled. She had no idea that Iris was such a hipster! Even though Calypso considered herself a music person, she hadn’t heard of any of the bands or songs on this list. She shook her head, and handed the CD back to Iris. “Nah. No way. We’re listening to…” Calypso thumbed through her CDs, frowning, “some Dolly!” She popped the CD into the player, and it started to play Jolene.

”Uh, what the heck’s that…” Iris’ music taste clearly didn’t line up with Calypso’s. ”Gross. We’re doing mine next.” She joked. She didn’t actually mind listening to something she cared not even an atom for, but she wasn’t gonna do it all the way to whatever place Baltimore was in. ”Calypso, you poor thing…” She jabbed at the girl a bit, did this cubic bus driving girl even know decent music?

“No we’re not!” Calypso said cheerily, glancing at Iris in the rearview mirror. There was no way she was listening to Iris’s hipster swill. If she wanted to listen to her own music, she could’ve driven, damnit! “Next up is some good old-fashioned Taylor Swift. If you have any problems with that, feel free to hitch a ride in David's truck. Now, if we’re all good…”

With that, Calypso stepped on it, and began to drive down the dirt road of the mountainside, pulling away from the coven house.
At the last minute Caleb remembered to put on his seat belt, clicking it into place as the car rumbled gently along. He felt a rush of something, probably adrenaline, rush through his body at the thought of going on his first ever mission. Even if it was with boring vampires. Turning in his seat, a wide grin spread across his face as he glanced between the three girls crowded into the back. Bringing a closed fist to his mouth, he feigned a ‘clearing my throat before an important presentation ’ cough before sitting as upright as he possibly could. “Okay ladies and…gentleme- well, just me I guess. As the official representative of the passenger seat, it is my duty to make sure you’re sufficiently entertained for the duration of this car journey…” He paused for unnecessary effect before continuing.

“If you’ll make sure you’re tightly fastened in, Kota has kindly provided us with snacks which I encourage you to eat before she does.” Sticking his tongue playfully out at the girl in question, he quickly reached over to grab another pretzel from the bag. “Normally my favourite is 21 questions but I think we should play a good ol’ fashioned game of truth or car-contained dare. Followed by an unbearably loud sing-along to Swifty of course.” Focusing his attention back towards the front, he moved to look at Calypso, raising his eyebrows questioningly at her. “What dya think? Truth or dare is nearly as good as telling fortunes right?”

The yellow Jeep winded down the dirt mountain road, and the coven house disappeared behind the tall, green maple trees of the forest. Despite the sunny day, the road was slick with mud. It had rained last night, Calypso remembered vaguely from waking up to go to the bathroom and hearing the sounds of rain pattering against the roof. Calypso was internally hoping there weren’t any potholes to drive over or anything like that- she really didn’t want to have to unstick her car or anything. When Caleb began to talk, she turned down the music to where their voices could be easily heard over it. She listened to Caleb’s speech, amused, and giggled.

“Someone hit me with a pretzel,” she commanded, but didn’t hold out her hand for one. No way was she going to drive one-handed! “Truth or dare is an… alright car game, I guess! Better than ‘I Spy’. Although dares’ll be hard. Hm. I’ll go first!” Calypso kept her eyes steadily trained on the road as she spoke. She was driving at a steady 25 miles per hour down the mountain, only a few of the other cars behind her. “And I’ll go for… hm. Alayna, you’ve been awfully quiet. Truth or dare, roomie?”

This one would be easier! Calypso grinned at Alayna in the rearview mirror, and cocked her head.. “Truth. Alrighty.” Should she go hard, or should go soft? Calypso didn’t know much about Alayna, so would any more probing questions be met with anger? But she did want to actually know something about Alayna. So she went for an in-betweener. “What makes you the happiest?” she asked, confident that that was a safe one.

Her eyes pop open at the sound of her name being called, always having been a light sleeper. "Huh?" is the first thing that comes out of Alayna's mouth before her mind catches up to the question asked. She knew she would pay for the lack of sleep and can only pray that her mouth hadn't been open. "Uh truth, I guess," the witch replies, biting her lip nervously. Truth or dare had never been her favorite game to play, much preferring to be on the sidelines watching how things around her progress quietly. The mischievous glint in her friend's eye also isn't helping the situation, and the girl can't help but squirm a little in her seat.

This one would be easier! Calypso grinned at Alayna in the rearview mirror, and cocked her head.. “Truth. Alrighty.” Should she go hard, or should go soft? Calypso didn’t know much about Alayna, so would any more probing questions be met with anger? But she did want to actually know something about Alayna. So she went for an in-betweener. “What makes you the happiest?” she asked, confident that that was a safe one.

Once the actual question reveals itself, Alayna can't hold back her sigh of relief. It isn't an easy one to answer, but at least it isn't too personal. She takes some time to think about it, reaching over to steal a pretzel from Dakota's bag before she speaks.

"Being able to spend time with my dad." She surprises herself with her honesty at first but shakes it off. What were they going to do, make fun of her? Besides, she’s had years to accept that her childhood consisted of the best and happiest moments of her life so far, and that it is thanks to one person. "It was easier as a kid to be close to him but lately he's been really busy and when we do get the time, it's mostly just spent on witch-related stuff and, well... not," us" stuff. I've never been all that close with my mom either so there's that."

Alayna then gives them a moment to process her words and react before continuing, attempting to draw attention away from herself for a bit.

"What about you?" She blinks. "I-If that's okay?".

Calypso kept her eyes on the road while Alayna spoke, but fully paid attention. They were still winding down the mountain road, but getting closer and closer. The town was visible if you looked down the mountainside. “Deep,” she remarked, and laughed. “Good answer. Seriously. As for me… some boba tea will do it! And maybe a good rom-com.” She grinned. She hadn’t quite been expecting something so deep off of Alayna, but she couldn’t say she was disappointed. She hadn’t realized that her new friend was so close to her family. “Now, it’s your turn!”

"Oh right, it's still my turn, isn't it?" Alayna asks, placing a hand on her chin in mock concentration, "How about youuuu...Caleb! Truth or dare?"

Caleb, who had at some point undone his seatbelt, was now fully turned towards the back, hands clutching on the headrest as he watched the other witches. “Nice question Cal!” He nodded enthusiastically, grinning when Alayna decided it was his turn. “Well, seeing as you just went for truth, I guess I’ll go dare!”

Alayna takes her seat belt off, twisting in her seat to reach behind her to grab her duffle bag. Opening one pocket, she takes out the bag of cheese puffs there and tries to hand it to Caleb in the front seat.

"I dare you to stuff as much as this as you can in your mouth, without choking and dying, of course."

”Wow, the fuck.”

“Oh, that’s an easy one. I’ll have you know I’m a chubby bunny champion!” The corners of his mouth pulled up into a small smile as he reached his hand towards Alayna, gently taking the bag of cheese puffs from her. Opening it up, and accidentally spilling a couple on the floor, he shot Calypso an apologetic look before beginning to cram as many as possible into his mouth. Although somewhat messy, the teen was known for having a near endless appetite, and only stopped when he could barely take breath. “Ook aht ow any I ot n ere!” He mumbled incoherently before eventually managing to swallow the mouthful of food. “That was fun!” Caleb chirped, before his gaze strayed over to Iris. “Guess it’s your turn then…truth or dare?”

”Okay uh, truth.”

“Truth. Hm, okay…” Caleb paused for thought, munching idly on another cheese puff. “Alright I’ve got one!” A mischievous smile flashed across his face as he leaned closer towards the witch. “Do you have a crush on anyone in the coven? Elders included.” He laughed at the last part, shaking his head. “Well, not really...unless you do?” His eyebrows raised questioningly at her whilst he waited for an answer.

Well shit.

Crushes? Really?! On the surface Iris wasn’t really bothered but deep down she was somewhat panicking. She anticipated something like “Fuck-Marry-Kill” or whatever Alayna said, nevermind telling them about Dakota…

”Well, hmm… Now that I think about it, yeah, I guess there is.” She said airheadedly. ”Now I guess it’s Calypso’s turn. Hm…” She awkwardly tried to speed past getting asked about who since they were literally in the car.

”I dunno, I give up.“

Dakota, who had been keenly listening the whole time, leaned in. ”Woah, woah, woah, you’re gonna let her dodge the question like that?" She raised an eyebrow, a wicked grin on her face. ”Not sure whatever kind of wussy backwater state you guys have grown up in, but where I come from, you gotta finish what you started." She leaned over Alayna’s lap, looking in on Iris. ”Come on, spill the tea. Who is it? Are they older?” She wiggled her eyebrows. ”You better dish out the dirt to the rest of us common folk."

”Define older.”

”Like, old old. Elder old."

”Ew. The fuck.”

”Well, if they’re not older, that means they’re our age!” Dakota leaned over poor Alayna’s lap, resting her elbows on her legs, propping her chin up with her hands. ”Spill the beans! Who is it? Stop dodging the question!"

”Know what, Kota? How about I tell you when there aren’t other people in the car, cool?” This was making Iris just a little nervous.

“Ooooh, Iris has a crush!” Calypso shouted, enamored with the conversation. “Spill the beans, girl. Who is it? Is it Charlie? Hana? Summer? It’s gotta be someone we know.”

”I’m- not into guys, you know…” Did they though? Iris wasn’t exactly known for this cutesy love stuff, it was probably obvious by now with the way she never looked at a guy in any enamored way, but it was still a tad awkward talking about it here...How in the fuck do you get into and out of this one?

“Iris, just say it!” Calypso urged, and tightened her grip on the steering wheel. She had a gleeful, mischievous smile on her face. “Everything said in the Jeep stays in the Jeep. Promise.”

”Yeah!” Dakota said in agreement. ”We won’t say a word to anybody outside of this vehicle, promise."She held up her crossed fingers. ”Oh, shit, is it Jean-Luc? I can see it now, you two making potions together, all romantic...ooh, doesn’t Kate like potions too? So many options..."

“She just said she doesn’t like guys, dumbass.”

”Oh, right.” Dakota rolled her eyes. ”Listen, Curly, as long as it isn’t Summer, we’re all cool.”

“What if the person… is in this car?! Oh my God, is it me?” Calypso gasped, now entirely wrapped up in trying to find out who it was. “Nah. I bet Iris likes Rebecca. She seems like she’d be into dead people.”

”Callie, you gotta understand, nobody likes you,” Dakota said, sticking her tongue out. ”If Iris was gonna have the hots for somebody in this car, it would be me, obviously!” Dakota struck a flamboyant pose, before running her hand through her hair, obviously joking.

“First of all, fuck you, my first grade ex-boyfriend would disagree with you, second of all, it could be Alayna!” Calypso threw a pretzel at Dakota’s head from behind her back.

“I highly doubt that,” Alayna interrupts then while also rubbing her thigh where Dakota’s elbows had been, “Iris, you don’t have to say who it is if you don’t want to.” Somehow coming to the other’s defense feels right, especially if it turns out that she is the object of her admiration. It saves her from reacting in a way that may hurt her.

“You don’t have to but I’m totally gonna think it’s Sister Deborah if not.” Caleb teased lightly, gaze passing over those gathered in the back. “But for real, if you’re not ready to tell anyone that’s cool.” He shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly, not really having expected her to actually name names. “Anyway I’m sure we can all agree that Brother Lucien is the hottest member of the coven. All that grey hair and lack of emotions...damn!” The teen joked playfully, flourishing a hand so that the bag of cheese puffs slowly floated over to Iris.

”I…” She wasn’t sure how to go about this conversation. ”Not here… Iris clearly wasn’t alright with saying anything in front of this many people, and she normally didn’t get rattled like this. She laid back in the seat and just gazed out the window awkwardly thinking about how to do this. She still reached into the cheese puffs and catched the bag, resting it in her own lap. Her head was a bit messy, so she popped in earbuds to listen to something on her phone as she contemplated an idea…

---

---

What followed was awkward silence. For an hour. After Iris’s weird avoidance of the question (which made Calypso think that whoever she liked was in the car), everyone went quiet. So Calypso turned up the music and drove. They got off the mountain road, drove through Bluebrook, and emerged onto the freeway. She would quietly sing along to a tune occasionally, and had to switch the CD once, but other than that the car was mostly quiet. Occasionally, someone would try to interrupt the silence with a cracked joke or a question, but they were quiet for the most part. Most of everybody in the car silently browsed their phones, read a book, or stared out the window at the passing scenery. Soon enough, Calypso could see their exit in sight. She gulped.
She would be lying if she said she wasn’t scared. It was just a tickle of nervousness at the back of her brain, sure, but it was still there. She had never really fought anything before. Unless you counted her friends during “hardcore magical Capture the Flag”, which had never ever gone well. This would certainly be an experience. But after a few minutes stuck in her own head, Calypso didn’t quite want to worry herself into oblivion, so she spoke up.

“Everybody ready and excited for a bit of vampire hunting?” she asked the car, nervousness clear in her voice. She glanced in the rearview mirror and flashed a smile, at least. “Hopefully we’ll be done quick, at least.”

”We should probably talk about how we’re gonna do this, right?” Iris asked.

"Yeah, that's sort of what I meant? Like, we could talk strategy maybe," Calypso respondedd

”I brought a book with vamp stuff in it, and a knife and some garlic, won’t kill them but they won’t like it much either.” She had that book for a while, it finally came in handy.

“Well, you know me. Firegirl and all,” Alayna added, “Although I do have a backup in case that doesn’t work out for whatever reason.” She feels for said backup hanging around her neck, her stomach twisting like a riptide in a thunderstorm. At least, by the tone of Caly’s voice, she isn’t the only one who is a little afraid.

“Can I be real with you guys for a second here? Considering that we already...you know...lost two witches because of this same group we’re after, doesn’t it seem weird that 9 of us rookies are being sent out with so little knowledge of what’s to come?” Alayna stops here, suddenly unsure if she should have said what she had. Still, it is too late to take back her words now and all she can do is wait for her question to sink in.

”Well, Deb never really had her head on straight anyway…” Iris joked. ”I guess we should bet on dying, best case, we’re wrong, worst case we, we’re prepared to do something about it.”

Calypso’s mouth hung open in shock. She hadn’t expected them all to just be so disrespectful towards the elders! This was a time-honored tradition. “You guys!” she admonished, and turned into the exit. The skyline of Baltimore loomed close. “I can’t believe you would even say that. Sister Deborah and all the elders know what they’re doing. I’m pretty sure that if these rookie missions regularly killed witches, they wouldn’t have us go on them. She said it was only a couple vampires. It’s not a big deal. Every single initiate ever has went on one of those. Your parents, Alayna; my mom; your dad, Kota… we’ll all be fine. Don’t be so negative. We have plenty of information. I’m pretty sure we’ll know a vampire when we see one, you guys.”

”They can be pretty hard to spot unless you’re staring at them, and that’s weird.”

Alayna cringes inwardly at Iris's words about them dying but still smiles somewhat at the irony of them having thought the same about their coven head. While she would love to believe that everything was going to be all fine and dandy, considering it is the same Sister Deborah that sent two of their fellow witches to die it is hard to have the same complete faith that Calypso does. Still, she supposes there isn’t much she can do about any of this other than to trust her friends and her abilities.
“I just hope we’re not too late.”

”I brought a golem and a sharp thing so we’ve got friends, we can laugh in Deb’s little face when we get back.”

Calypso shook her head. They didn’t get it, clearly. She had always had complete faith in their leaders, in the power of witches, so to hear it so clearly disregarded by her friends was baffling. How could they think that? “Nuh-uh. You guys are wrong, everything will work out! Just watch. We’re gonna have an awesome first mission. We just maybe need to do a bit of… strategizing!”

”It’s important to do our best, but it’s important to win too.” Iris added, quoting Lord Shaxx from the back.

Calypso sighed. It was clear that she wasn’t going to win this argument. Some of her fellow teens were just anti-authority, and she couldn’t fix that! They’d learn, though. Everything would go well. The elders knew what they were doing! If they said it wouldn’t be hard, fighting vampires wouldn’t be hard. Calypso kept driving, a silence settling over the car in the wake of their small disagreement. So she cranked up the music. Taylor Swift blasted for the next half an hour as they drove down the freeway.

---

---

Eventually, the Baltimore skyline came into view. Skyscrapers stretched up, touching the sky. Calypso didn’t seem too impressed, unlike some of the country bumpkins in the car might’ve been. “Look, guys!” she said, enthused, and took a hand off the wheel to point at the skyline. “We’re here! In Baltimore! Home of the Ravens. And vampires, apparently.” She giggled at her terrible joke.

It took an additional 15 minutes to drive to their hotel. Calypso’s Jeep weaved its way through the city, finally parking at an unassuming little La Quinta Inn. They were the first to get there. It… wasn’t a nice hotel, perse, but it was good enough! The coven only had so much money, Calypso reminded herself. The hotel was in an alright spot in Baltimore, although still well within mugging territory. They parked and stepped out of the car.

“Alright, you guys!” Calypso said, cheerily, and pulled out the folder, which had somehow acquired a sun sticker in the past three hours. “We’re here. Our rooms are…” She flipped open the folder, going to the hotel page. “204 and 205! I think the intent was that guys take one room and girls the other? That’s just common sense, though! Anyways…” Calypso opened the trunk and immediately went for the duffel bag full of guns and her suitcase. “We’ll probably need to illusion the bags with the guns and stuff. And, like, use a lot of illusions to get in and out… but it’s a La Quinta. So. And… there’s a pool! That’s cool. And free continental breakfast… anyways! Race you guys!”
And with that, Calypso cast a quick spell on her bag and dashed to the check-in desk, taking off through the parking lot.

《 H. E. R. O. 》

joined by



@Hitman and @canaryrose

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_{August 18th, 2033
Bratchford College
5:30 PM}

"Wow, look at that building! Now that’s something you don’t see every day."

Grace and Patricia were currently standing in the middle of Bratchford College in Kingsdale, a fairly small liberal arts college in the upper-class district. Grace had insisted that Patricia begin to seriously think about higher education now that she was entering her senior year, and had recently presented her with a massive itinerary of local college tours full of schools that Patricia could realistically get into. Grace insisted that Patricia not abandon her education, lest she end up like Jamie, and that being an employee of HERO meant that her chances of acceptance would be much higher, and tuition costs would be partially covered by the organization. Grace had pretty much strong-armed Patricia into going on the tours, but Grace promised that she would treat Patti to a nice dinner at a fancy steakhouse, all on her, and that she would go to the gym with her.

Grace was wearing a red-and-black Bratchford College sweatshirt that was a couple sizes too big on her and jean shorts. Her hair was freshly-dyed and braided, tied into two buns atop her head. She was holding a glossy Bratchford pamphlet and, as she was following the tour, made sure to constantly lob factoids about the college at Patricia. "That building is called Baker Hall. Constructed in 1898, originally as a church, but it was later purchased by the college for use for the department of history,” Grace explained as she followed the tour through the college campus. "You know, this school is a sister college of Kingsdale College. Definitely has a level of prestige there. It was founded in 1879 in response to Kingsdale College’s refusal to admit women. It’s still an all-girls school, though I’m sure you already know that..." Grace whisper-said to Patti, looking at the back of the pamphlet. "Your SAT scores are a bit lower than the average SATs here, so maybe you could retake it, but I’m sure being in HERO will be a massive boost to your resume. Plus, the financial aid packages here are very generous...combined with HERO scholarship money, you’re going to have extremely limited out-of-pocket costs. Isn’t that neat?"

Before Grace could hear a response, though, the woman leading the tour, a sweet-looking middle-aged blonde lady named Susan, stopped the group in the middle of a large plaza with a patina statue of a woman. ”I’m going to stop you guys here at Bratchford Plaza. Here’s our founder, Mary Anne Bratchford, a real fighter for women’s rights and equality. Here at Bratchford, we make sure that every young lady that attends our school will feel safe, comfortable, and obtain the best possible educational experience.” Susan smiled brightly. ”Anyway, I need to take a quick call, and we’ll resume the tour momentarily.” With that, she held her phone up to her ear and began whispering angrily at it as the tour group splintered apart into their own separate conversations.

Grace turned back to Patti with an equally bright Susan smile. "Sooo...what do you think? You like it? Don’t like it? You seem like you could be Bratchford Bear material.”

Patricia shrugged, not looking up from her phone. She had been too busy talking to Eliza to pay attention to most of the tour, so had pretty much missed everything except “women’s college”. Which sounded interesting enough, but this was not where she wanted to be today. “It’s alright. Their music program any good?” she asked, but more muttered, still tapping away on her phone.

It had not been Patricia’s choice to attend this college tour marathon with Grace, but unfortunately, overbearing mothers don’t give their daughters much of a choice. When Grace had sat down with Patricia and her mother to “talk” (immediate red flags, Patti had thought, and she had been right), her mom had jumped at the chance to get someone knowledgeable and intelligent and responsible to go on college tours with her. Which had got Patti stuck on this thing. It wasn’t so bad- she had planned to start doing tours sooner or later anyways, and she was becoming a senior. She had just been so busy for so long that she hadn’t thought about it, and was now being dragged through a women’s college by her coworker. Unlike Grace, Patricia had not really dressed for the occasion. In defiance, she had worn her deepest purple lipstick and applied her best smokey eye. But much to Patricia’s chagrin, her style seemed to fit in at Bratchford. Her black corduroy skirt, long-sleeved black and white crop top, and black high top boots made her seem like the perfect perspective student. Damn Eliza for suggesting she go goth today! She had also worn sunglasses, but, well… that was more for not being recognized anyways. Even though that hadn’t worked. Already, a couple people had pointed at them and gasped, either scared or gleeful to see a celebrity.

Being famous was the worst.

Grace folded her arms as Patricia spoke. "You are not paying attention at all, Patti,” Grace said condescendingly. She uncrossed one arm, raising it, and with a quick slashing motion, she opened a small portal right in front of Patti’s hands. The portal sucked the phone right out of the girl’s mitts, like a vacuum cleaner picking up dust, and a second mini-portal deposited the phone into Grace’s hands. Grace put the phone into her pocket. "You have to pay attention! This is your future. What if something were to happen to you, or your voice, and you get taken off of HERO’s roster? You need a degree. And plus, it’s important that you expand your educational experience and find a good college for you.” Grace tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "And before you ask, music does not count. Pick something better. Don’t you like history? Or political science? Or maybe even acoustics? That might help with your singing powers.”

“HEY!” Patti screeched, and grabbed for her phone right before Grace put it into her pocket unsuccessfully. She stomped her foot. A few eyes turned their way, curious about the portal and her screeching, and Patricia blushed bright red. Maybe she shouldn’t have shouted that. “That’s my phone, Grace!” she hissed, and grabbed for it again. “Give it back! I was texting Eliza…”

Knowing Grace, Patricia wasn’t about to get that phone back. She sighed heavy, rolled her eyes, and crossed her arms. Who did Grace think she was? Her mom? “You are the worst. I get the value of a college degree and everything, but if my voice gives out, I’m sure H.E.R.O will give me a job as a secretary or something. Or, my pretty impressive resume could get me a good job anywhere else.” Patricia examined her nails, which she had painted a nice pink last night. “No, no, and… is that guitar? Acoustics sounds sort of cool.” Patricia took out the brochure out of her pocket (it had been folded very small), and browsed through it, frowning. “How about Women’s Studies? Or Superpower Studies? I’m a woman, and I have superpowers,” she commented, only half-joking. A couple majors on there sounded alright, but she wasn’t about to tell Grace that.

The older girl pursed her lips at Patti’s outburst. ”Do you want to be a secretary? Or do you want to do something you have passion for? Because college affords you a chance to do that.” She rolled her eyes at Patti’s jesting. ”Acoustics is a branch of physics that deals with the properties of mechanical waves, particularly sound...so yes, guitars, sort of. And if you’re really passionate about gender studies, then knock yourself out. Just...take this seriously, OK?”

“Oh. Ew.” Patricia wrinkled her nose at the mention of physics. Eugh.

Grace played with the same loose strand of purple hair, knotting it around her finger and then letting it unwind. ”I...I just wanted to do something good for you, OK? Be a good friend, help you with something that I’m good at. In case...in case I’m not in Castleburg for much longer,” she said finally, choking out the last phrase with a pained expression on her face.

Patricia’s eyes flicked to Grace, annoyance melting off her face in favor of concern. “What does tha-”

Before Patti could respond, though, Susan got off her phone and gave a bright, forced smile. ”Sorry for the delay, folks!” she chirped. ”We’ll get right back to the tour. We’re going to head to the President’s Hall now near the center of campus,” she explained, and the tour group began to move again. Grace didn’t speak, her eyes dimly turning to face the guide and walking, her hands shoved into her pockets as a large bubble of gum expanded from her lips.

Patricia followed the tour group, brochure forgotten in her hands. Grace wasn’t leaving... was she? Her chest tightened. As much as she would never admit it in a million years, in the past months Grace had become a friend. A good friend. A little more than that, even, with all the shit they had gone through together. It had occurred to Patti before that Grace might one day go back to Korea, but she had sort of though Grace would want to stay in Castleburg forever. She walked along, staring anxiously and only half-listening, before saying, “What does that mean? Grace, you aren’t… are you going back? Why didn’t you tell me?”

Grace popped the obnoxiously large bubble that was forming at her lips, spitting the wad into a nearby trashcan. ”You know that whole EAGLES thing...it didn’t exactly improve HERO’s reputation. The opposite, more like,” Grace explained softly as they walked through the campus. ”There’s been a surge of younger heroes, though, and so...how do I put this...ICOSA wants to trim the fat, so to speak. Ship out some of the older heroes so they can help mold the new ones into something that they want.” She spoke with a tone of intense disapproval in her voice. ”Brie going to LA wasn’t just some coincidence. I know it isn’t. ICOSA is just trying to prune us. Split us up. I’m expecting an official letter sometime today...” Grace looked down guiltily, trailing off, staring down at her sneakers as she walked.
Patricia’s heart stopped. Then started. Then stopped again. No. She stared off into the distance, still walking along, and clenched her fists. Why would they do that? They couldn’t just… take everybody away! Brie leaving had been enough of a blow- she had really been one of Patti’s best friends- but she hadn’t thought it was ICOSA’s fault. Was Grace leaving, too? Her stomach dropped at the thought. “N-no you’re not!” she exclaimed, loud. “They can’t just do that! Tell them you wanna stay. Because… because of that new C.R.E.W thing. They’ll get it. They have to.” Patricia turned her gaze to Grace again, and moved closer to her. She’d mind control ICOSA into letting her stay if she had to! “You can’t leave. If they’re “trimming the fat”, then… what about the rest of us?” She said “us”, but it was clear in that moment that Patricia really meant “me”. She said all this with near desperation in her voice, quiet but worried. Was that what Grace had meant earlier, that she might not have H.E.R.O. to rely on forever?

”Shush, shush, we’re in public, quiet down,” Grace whispered annoyedly at Patricia. ”I’ve already told them that I don’t want to go. I’m just going to have to wait and see...believe me, Patti, I don’t want to leave. I have…friends here.” By “friends,” of course, Grace meant the type of friends that hug and kiss, though she didn’t say that part aloud. ”You’ll probably be fine, at least for now. You still live with your mom, after all,” Grace said soothingly, putting a hand on Patti’s shoulder. ”They can’t just make a minor pack up and move to a foreign country. But if you were born and raised in that country, and worked there for most of our life...different story,” Grace explained bitterly, for once not paying close attention to the tour.

”Nothing is decided yet, but...just in case. I wanted to spend some time with you.” Grace smiled weakly. ”I’m surprised you didn’t sniff out my ruse already. You should know I would never, ever go to the gym unless something like this was happening,” she said lightly.

“I just thought you finally recognized the importance of being able to break someone’s nose or run for 10 minutes straight…” Patti muttered, half to the side. It was relieving that they couldn’t make her leave, but still. She was only a while away from 18. And she didn’t want Grace to leave, either. “Do you maybe have the addresses of these ICOSA guys? And do they maybe… live in Castleburg?” she asked, only half-jokingly, and glanced at Grace again.
”There’s nothing important about lifting a heavy metal bar over and over again,” Grace retorted. She frowned at Patricia’s next statement. ”If you do what I know you’re thinking of, you will be forced to move. Into a jail cell. For a long time,” Grace said plainly. ”Don’t worry too much about me. Even if I do get transferred...I’ll still be alright. PHANTOM was fun,” Grace said optimistically. ”You forget that I am Korean, anyway, and that I used to work there. I’m sure everything will turn out just fine. Now, why don’t you focus on the tour, and then we’ll grab a bite to eat afterwards. Do you like sushi? Of course you do, everybody likes sushi...”

“Hmph.” Patricia crossed her arms, again, scrunching up her face. She knew Grace would be fine, it was more the idea of her leaving that scared her. And plus, she totally wouldn’t get caught if she mind controlled some ICOSA councilmen. “Sushi sounds nice,” she said, and cracked a smile. She was still worried, but even if Grace was leaving, it would be nice. Then it would be even nicer to break her the following day in the gym. Then she raised up her hands, and chuckled. “Fine. I’ll focus on the tour if it makes you happy, jeez…”

Grace smiled back warmly. ”That’s the spirit! Well, actually, that’s not quite the spirit, but we’re getting there.” Grace smiled. ”Tour’s almost over, anyway. We just have to get to the science labs and that’s pretty much it. Then it’s off to a nice dinner. Here...” Grace fished into her pocket, giving Pati back her phone. ”But if I see you texting again, I will not hesitate to drop it directly into the harbor.,”

Though her words were harsh, Grace had on a gentle smile that made it clear she was joking. Well, half-joking.

“Oh thank God,” Patricia muttered. There was only so much yammering a girl could take, and after their fifth tour, Patti was at her limit. Plus, sushi did sound nice. Walking made her hungry. Seeing her phone, though, made her even happier. She snatched it out of Grace’s hands greedily, ready to text Eliza again, before Grace made her warning. “Fine, fine. You better get me the most expensive sushi roll they have.” So she tucked her phone into the tiny pocket of her skirt and followed the tour.

---

---

One very adult dinner later…

Grace was drunk.

She wasn’t totally and utterly wasted, her tolerance for alcohol having improved from inhumanly low alcohol tolerance to extremely lightweight, but she was still very clearly tipsy from having almost six shots of sake in her system. Her plate emptied, Grace was finishing off her last drink of sake, before putting the porcelain cup back down on the table. She gave a dopey smile. ”Well, I’ll drive you home,” she said, her words a bit jumbled as she stood from her seat, stumbling somewhat, the eyes of nearly every patron in the high-end sushi restaurant shooting towards her. ”Leeet’s go.”

True to Patricia’s word, she had made Grace buy her the most expensive rolls on the menu. Along with a California roll, of course. It was the best kind! But she munched on her rolls happily, with… one caveat. She watched Grace down 6 shots of sake with growing concern. Oh. This is going to be bad, she thought after the third. Grace had never handled alcohol well. She didn’t try to stop her, though. This would be hilarious. Patricia could barely hold back laughs now, watching her stagger up from her seat.

“No way are you driving,” Patricia said, and grabbed onto Grace’s arm. She was trying desperately to hold back her laughter, but a few giggles escaped anyways. “Give me your keys. Now. Come on.” She held out her hand for Grace’s car keys, motioning.

”Fine. You can drive. Not because I’m drunk or anything, but because...you should practice,” Grace mumbled as she removed her keys from her pocket, putting them in Patricia’s palm, before staggering for the door. She walked out, nearly tripping over herself as she made her way to her car. It was Grace’s favorite car, her Jaguar D-Type, a classic matte black 1950s racing vehicle that Grace had purchased at auction and refurbished. The vehicle could easily have been worth 7 digits (though Grace had shrewdly obtained it for less), but somehow seemed almost normal in the fancy sushi restaurant parking lot. Grace drunkenly attempted to slide over the hood of the car, failing and nearly falling off the vehicle, before sitting down in the passenger seat.

As Grace struggled to put her seatbelt into the socket, she spoke with a silly grin. ”Patti Patti Patti, you know what we should do?” she said, the excitement in her tone contrasted by the slow and jumbling, drunken manner she spoke with. ”We should do what you thought about before. We should go to that ICOSA guy’s house and mess him up. Do your singing thing, you know.” Grace giggled. ”I’ve been to his apartment before, so I know where he lives! Here...” Grace tapped on the (custom-created) screen on the head unit of the car, opening Google Maps. ”127 Terrace Avenue. It’s in Kingsdale, too! We just barge in, hypnotize him, and then get it. Easy-peasy. Woo! Grace and Patti adventure!”

“Oh yeah, totally, that’s the reason,” taunted Patti as they left the sushi restaurant. She held the keys tight, watching Grace. As they walked to the car. “C’mon, Grace. Door’s right there.”

Once Grace managed her way into the passenger seat, Patricia buckled her seatbelt in, too, getting settled in the driver’s seat with caution. She didn’t think she had ever driven such a fancy car before, and she wouldn’t want to mess it up. What was this… a Leopard? Some sort of cat. Nice car… she ran her hands over the steering wheels. This whole situation was funny, really. Getting Grace drunk, although disastrous, was fun. Except when she tried to hit on her. That was just weird.

When Grace suggested they go over to an ICOSA agent’s house, though, Patricia just cackled. Drunks came up with the craziest plans. “No way. That was just a joke, remember? We could go to jail? I’m taking you home, not to some dude’s house to fuck him up.” She turned the keys in the car, and pulled out of the parking lot and started to go in the direction of where she thought Grace’s house was.

”Wrong direction, Patti!” Grace called out. ”You’re being silly. Car, navigate to 127 Terrace Avenue, Kingsdale, Castleburg,” Grace commanded, and at once the car began to operate on its own, pulling a tight U-turn and speeding well above the limit down the highway in the opposite direction.

“Wait- nO!” Patricia screeched, suddenly panicking as the car wrenched itself from her control and started to speed onto the highway. This was not happening. They could not be going to that guy’s place- they’d get arrested, or worse, and Patricia had had so many unpleasant experiences with authorities lately that put the fear of God in her. “GRACE MOK! Nononono- car, go home! Home!” She banged on the display. “Grace, if we don’t get pulled over for speeding first, we’ll go to Coldwater, we can’t.” She tried desperately to control the car, pulling the steering wheel with all her might.
”Nope, not happening” Grace responded with a wide, very intoxicated smile. ”Come on, Patti, it’ll be fun! And easy! And we won’t get caught. We’re us!” The car narrowly avoided collision as it zoomed down the highway, well over 100 miles per hour at this point. ”I thought you wanted me to stay! This is the easiest way to do that!”

Patricia still tried to tug the steering wheel to the side, squeezing it. She also stepped on the brakes as hard as possible. “At least slow the car down, Jesus! We’ll hit someone,” she cried, seeing people swerving out of the way of their car. “Grace, you’re drunk, you’re not thinking straight, and we literally just got out of 50 first degree murder charges two weeks ago! This is a bad idea. I want you to stay, but you can also just like… ask them not to transfer you.” She let go of the wheel and took her by the shoulders and shook her, hard. “Stop! Being! Drunk!”

”I’M NOT DRUNK!” Grace shouted back with equal volume as the car took a narrow dive towards the right, barely making it onto the exit ramp without slamming into the guardrails. ”This is so much easier than asking. Plus, this way, they’re guaranteed to listen!” Grace said, sticking her tongue out as the vehicle finally began to slow down in front of a nice brick apartment building. Compared to the glamor of Kingside, it wasn’t anything particularly awesome, but it was still a nice, rustic building that Grace had spontaneously planned to break into.

Grace stepped out of the vehicle, somewhat winded from the high-speed car ride. ”Come on, Paaaatiii. It’ll be quick and easy. And then I get to stay!” Regular Grace would have thought of a plan of action first (in reality, Regular Grace would not have been in this situation in the first place), but Drunk Grace did not have any semblance of Regular Grace’s rationality. She instead lifted her hand and fired a disc-shaped, violet projectile at the oaken lobby doors, which promptly splintered cleanly in the center, leaving a smoldering hole in its wake.

”Right through here,” Grace said, stepping into the lobby of the apartment building as the night guard looked up from his magazine in total confusion.

“Intruders!”

Patti did not, in fact, calm down. “JESUS CHRIST!” Grace threw a portal frisbee at the door, making a splitting sound. Shit. She didn’t want to do this, but it looked like Grace was leaving her no choice- she had already committed a crime. The most Patricia could do was make sure they didn’t actually go to Coldwater. So Patricia got out of the car and dashed into the lobby after Grace, intent on making sure she didn’t do anything else. But the night guard was in there, and he was yelling and reaching for his phone…

“Laaaa-AAAAAA!~” Patricia opened her mouth and sang, much to the night guard’s complete confusion. “Don’t call anyone and don’t move,” she ordered, and he put down the phone and froze. Good. She stalked forward, and grasped his chin in her hand. “Listen to me. You will forget all of this, everything that happened tonight, you understand? None of this ever happened. You’ll forget us. And, once you wake up, you’ll wipe tonight’s tapes because they’re clearly faked. Nod if you understand.” He nodded, fearfully. “Good. Now go to sleep.”

The poor night guard closed his eyes and sank back into his chair, falling into a deep sleep. Then, Patricia turned to face Grace. “You are not going up there!” she cried, in a stark contrast from her prior tone. She grabbed Grace’s arm, stern. “Stop being a fucking idiot. I’m taking you home before you do anything dumb. Come on. Let’s go, now.”

Grace nearly fell over when Patti pulled on her arm, her lack of balance very clearly apparent as she staggered for the front door. She seemed to have sobered up a bit, though, as she followed after Patricia, making her way over to the car and flopping into the seat after fumbling to open the door. She smiled with a look in her eyes that only a drunk person having succesfully accomplished something stupid would have. ”Guess what I managed to portal out of his office?” she said, holding up a manila file that had appeared in her hands, as if by magic. ”Transfer forms! I almost destroyed his desk in the process, but I got them!” She giggled. ”I’ll fill these out later...mission accomplished, though! Thank you so much, Patato.” She smiled. ”We’ve now successfully violated ICOSA Article 3, Title Fourteen of the official ICOSA handbook. It was soooo easy, too! Loser didn’t even have any security systems. What type of stupid-ass ICOSA agent doesn’t even have-”

At that moment, the sounds of sirens erupted through the building as the ICOSA representative’s security systems went off. The sounds of sirens began to grow louder as Grace blinked. ”Oh fuck. Drive!”

Patricia gasped at the sounds of the sirens. Oh, this was bad. Grace had stolen paperwork, just paperwork, and the police were definitely coming now. This was just the thing she needed, to be hunted by police for a second time this month. But it was okay. They definitely wouldn’t put them in real prison now, right? “Fuck!” she exclaimed, and turned the keys in the ignition. Then, she stepped on the brakes, and the expensive car zoomed forward and out of the parking lot. They were going fast, but Patti slowed down as they reached the traffic lanes, not wanting to make a scene. She could hear the police sirens, but maybe they wouldn’t know it was their car?

“Fuck, Grace, just like- put that in your empty space or your closet or something! It’s incriminating information, you dumbass! God, I’m never letting you drink alcohol again.”

”Alright, alright, put it in an empty space or my closet or something… ” Grace repeated, clutching the files to her chest. ”Got it! You can handle the cops, right? Of course you can, you’re Patti...alright, don’t dent the car!” And with those parting words, Grace opened a portal under her seat and dropped through, leaving Patti alone in the vehicle.

“Wait, what?” And just like that, Grace disappeared into a portal. Did Grace just… abandon her? Patti’s mouth dropped open for a second, flabbergasted, before she screamed in rage and dug out her phone. Grace was so dead. She got to Grace’s contact, the phone dialing, but not before...

Police sirens blared as they pulled up to the vehicle (which was so expensive, it was easily distinguishable from the others). Several cop cars pulled up next to Grace’s car, demanding that the driver pull over immediately.

Patti panicked, dropping the phone. Her driver’s lessons had taught her to pull over when the police asked, but nearly everything in her body screamed at her to drive away. She tried to find an opening in traffic, eyes flitting about wildly with her hands still on the driver’s wheel. But there was none, and about three cop cars were surrounding her. So Patti obeyed her driver’s lessons and pulled over to the side and rolled down her windows. This would’ve been so much easier to explain if Grace had been here, but now… she gulped. This wasn’t even her car. And everybody knew her face now!

Oh, God, she was so grounded. Patti’s hands tensed on the wheel, and she tried very hard not to hit something.
A flashlight ran over the outside of the car as a police officer walked up to the vehicle. She leaned down in front of the driver side window and removed her glasses, revealing the bruised face of Castleburg Police Department Officer Sarah Burke.

“Well, look what we got here,” the police officer said with a scarily vengeful grin. “You know, that stunt you pulled at the club got my salary slashed in half…” she muttered wistfully, before looking back at Patricia with a devilish grin. “I’m going to need to have you step out of the vehicle, ma’am. And no funny business.”

Shit. This was the worst cop possible to get caught by. Patti smiled nervously, starting to sweat. Her hands grew slippery on the wheel. She briefly considered using her power, but decided that would be a distinctly terrible idea. “L-listen, ma’am,” she started, unbuckling her seatbelt, “nothing about that encounter was personal. You know, I’m sorry. I didn’t really want to hypnotize anyone, especially a cop, of which I have the utmost respect for, but it was necessary. You know, I was innocent, and no one got hurt, so it worked out in the end, didn’t it? I’m sorry that your salary was slashed and everything, I really am, but can’t we just let bygones be bygones? You’d be doing me a big favor.” Patti was taking a page out of Starbright’s book, trying to charm the fuck out of this woman. She smiled, wide and slightly disconcerting, and unlocked the door just for prosperity. “Please?”

Officer Burke rolled her eyes. “Alright, I won’t make your life as miserable as possible, fine. But I’m still taking you in for trespassing and larceny,” she said, opening the door and grabbing Patti by the elbow, hauling her casually out of the vehicle (as it so happened, Officer Burke was quite strong). She pinned Patti’s hands behind her back and slapped a pair of sleek, silver-and-blue isocuffs on her wrists. “You have the right to remain silent, anything you say can be used against you in court, et cetera, et cetera. Now, in the cop car, princess.” Officer Burke swung open the back door of her cruiser. “And if you try anything, particularly, anything musical, I will forget our bygones-be-bygones thing and smash your forehead directly into the side of the car.”

“W-wait, I didn’t steal anything, that wasn’t me!” Patti yelped as the officer cuffed her. As always, she felt a sinking, nauseous feeling in her stomach as the isolene cut off her superpower. “Hey! It wasn’t me, you can’t take me to jail!” Patricia didn’t step into the car, standing there, looking stubborn. She was so going to kill Grace when she saw her.

“Well, you’re the only one in the damn car, so unless the culprit mysterious teleported away, you were definitely responsible,” Officer Burke said sarcastically, grabbing Patti by the hair. “Now, since your legs are obviously failing you, I’ll give you a hand.” With those words, she roughly shoved Patti into the back of the cruiser and slammed the door shut. “Hope you enjoy sleeping behind bars!”

---

---

The next morning, the summer sun was shining brightly through the small, rectangular, cell window of Patti’s cell at the East Flank 48th Precinct holding cell. The cell was comfortably spacious and the inevitable ending location of the crew’s many misadventures. It even had a gumball machine.

At 7:00 AM sharp, the sounds of heavy footsteps filled the corridor as the tall, imposing figure of Director Hugo Powers entered the corridor. He walked up to the souped-up, rich-person cell that Patricia had been given, rapping his knuckles against one of the steel bars. Inexplicably, this simple action produced a lot of noise, comparable to the sound of a gong, as Powers peered into the cell. ”Good morning, Aria. I’m going to ask that you wake up now.”

Patricia… hadn’t really gone to sleep. Filled with anxiety at the thought of getting in trouble for something she definitely hadn’t done, she had stayed up for most of the night, worrying. She really hated being in jail, and felt tense for most of the night. But eventually she had dozed off on the bed in a weird half-sitting position. She had gotten about two hours of sleep. But at 7:00 AM sharp, she jolted awake from her sleep to the sound of Powers’s voice. Oh no. But at least it wasn’t her mom. She stared into his eyes, anxiety ramping up.

“G-good morning, sir!” Patti sat up ramrod straight and tried to hide terror. “I promise, this is not what it looks like. You see, Grace got drunk, and, well… it’s all her fault! Please don’t call my mom,” she begged, staying seated and as far away from the door as she could get.

The director looked at the girl, his arms behind his back, his gaze as stoic as ever. ”I know,” he said, reaching forward and opening the cell door. ”Bypass informed me of the whole situation this morning. You’re off the hook,” he said. ”You’re all clear to go now. You might want to check on Grace, though. Being fired can be a rough experience.”

"F-fired?" Although her relief was palpable after finding out she wasn't in trouble, that word in particular made her wince for her friend. Even though it had been her that had gone Patti into trouble, she still didn't want Grace to be in that much trouble. She stood up, and walked out of the door. "Sir, you can't fire Grace over this. I mean, yeah, she was being dumb… but Blake and Brie and Jamie used to he dumb together all the time and you never fired them. And-and you know she can't control herself when she's inebriated. She just wanted to… to stay here. That's why. So while I would love my vengeance… she deserves her job. I think."

If Powers was feeling any sort of emotion, he certainly didn’t show it, instead looking at Patti with a blank, collected expression. ”Out of my hands. ICOSA takes these matters very seriously. I’m forced to have her suspended from the organization until they do a whole formal investigation. Then they do some sort of tribunal, which will determine her future here,” Powers said. ”In any case, my hands are tied here. I’m sure if you talk to her, she’ll feel much better..” Powers pulled out a set of car keys from his pocket. ”Here’s your...well, Grace’s car keys. It’s a nice ride, enjoy the time you get to drive it while you can.” With that piece of advice, Powers walked out of the corridor, his heavy footsteps echoing through the area as he left.

Patricia grasped the keys in her hands and frowned. She watched Powers leave. That was… disappointing. She was a bit too tired to be mad about it, and she knew that Grace definitely had done something wrong, but still. Grace didn’t deserve to be fired! Maybe a pay cut, yeah, but…

It was out of her hands, though, unless she really wanted to come back to the precinct later that day. The only thing she could really do was try and be a good friend. Even if Grace had just gotten her arrested. So Patti left the precinct and went to go find the car. It wasn’t difficult to find- apparently someone had recovered it from when she had been pulled over. She unlocked the car door and sat in the driver’s seat.

“Car, direction to McDonald’s closest to Grace’s- I mean, my house?”

---

---

About 30 minutes later (it was that time of morning when everybody was going to work and Castleburg traffic was miserable), there was a ding as Grace’s doorbell rang. For good measure, Patti banged her fist on the door, too. Poor girl was probably passed out right now. “GRACE! Open up!” she yelled. She had gotten a Big Breakfast with Hotcakes for Grace, and an Egg McMuffin for herself, along with two frappes. “Come on, I’ve got food!”

”Coming! ” came the surprisingly chipper response, and a few moments later, Grace opened the door. She was unexpectedly in a rather good moment, though she did look somewhat hungover and disorderly. Her hair was tousled and fell in a knotted mess down her back, and she was wearing one of Tom’s t-shirts. For somebody that had just been suspended from their job without pay, though, she seemed astonishingly cheerful. ”Patti! Oh, I’m soooo sorry...” Grace said, wrapping her arms around the younger girl. ”I didn’t mean to ditch you, I hope you’re OK...come in! I took a few Aspirins, so I’m feeling better, I could use breakfast,” Grace said with a warm smile, opening the door for Patti.

Patricia nodded, stepped in, and raised a brow. “You look… chipper,” she commented. She put the platters of food and the drinks down on the nearest table, along with Grace’s stuff that she had left in her car. “You know, for a woman who’s about to go on trial and probably be revoked of her Hero Exemplar status and possibly fired from the organization she works for. I’m okay. Are you sure you’re okay?” Patti started to take the food out of the bags, laying it on the table.

”For the most part. Still feel bad about leaving you in jail...” Grace shrugged. ”Everything worked out, mostly according to plan. Ooh, are those hotcakes? I mean, I’m not really big on fast food, but those look good...”

“Oh, get over yourself and eat it. You’re lucky I even came to talk to you. You’re still on thin ice. And what do you mean everything went to plan? You wanted to be fired?” Patricia sat down and opened her own sandwich, sinking her teeth into it.

”You are adorable when you’re mad. And yeah, pretty much. You see, turns out that ICOSA can’t transfer you when you’re suspended. So, my plan was pretty much to get suspended. It’ll buy me some time to fix the actual transfer. I also messed with the apartment’s security footage and conveniently cropped out the footage that involved us. Luckily, the guy that you mesmerized is as dumb as a bag of rocks, so he’s not going to be blabbing any time soon. So, pretty much, they’re going to drop everything and bring me to trial, and then promptly look like a bunch of buffoons due to a lack of evidence.” Grace nibbled on a piece of McDonalds pancakes. ”No wonder all these ICOSA people keep getting dropped by Caustic. They haven’t even figured out how to encrypt files. I mean, honestly...it’s kind of sad. Only catch was dragging you into the whole mess...I really am sorry about that. You know I would never do that...I was just...well, you know.” Grace shrugged and took another bite of her food. ”And on the plus side, I get a week off of work, which is nice.”

Grace smirked at Patti. ”Let this be a lesson to you that even when I’m wasted, I’m still smarter than you.” The purple-haired girl gently jabbed Patricia with her plastic fork. ”Kidding.”

Well, now Patti felt like an idiot. “Oh,” she said, and frowned. She tapped her fingernails on the table. “I’m still mad at you, by the way. Why didn’t you tell me?!” Patti took a big sip of her mocha frappe.

”I was drunk! I’m sorry...I would’ve told you. I just...you know, I’m terrible once I start drinking. I just thought I would take a couple sips to take my mind off things and get a little less tense, and then...it went out of control.” Grace sighed, shaking her head. ”I really do owe you one, Patti. Big-time. Anything you need me to do.”

Meanwhile, Chell had entered the room and was currently aggressively licking Patti’s leg. Grace cracked a smile. ”Awww, she likes you! Chellie likes everybody, though, don’t you girlie? Aren’t you the bestest dog in the world?”

“Oh! Hi, Chell!” Patricia patted the dog on the head, cooing to her. “Please stop… licking me.” She giggled, ticklish, and gently pushed the dog’s head away from her leg. Then, she gave her a belly rub. All dogs liked belly rubs. Seeing Chell put a smile on her face. The dog had always been so adorable.

Patricia thought for a moment. So, Grace owed her, hm… good to know. She wouldn’t cash in on it just yet, though. She’d bide her time. Wait for the right moment to strike.

“You’re still going to the gym with me, right? You promised.” Patricia was reminding her of something she had promised yesterday, before the tours. She smirked and prepared to revel in Grace’s misery.

Grace made a sour face as she chewed a hotcake. ”I guess I did,” she said after a brief pause, as Chell snuggled up against her leg. ”Alright, alright...I will exercise with you in the gymnasium,” she said, an expression on her face that clearly showed that saying those words pained her. ”I guess I'll have to get changed…and showered…" she said, looking down at her messy appearance, before sighing. ”I'm still not sold on this whole exercise idea. You do realize I can just teleport people into the bay, right? I haven't figured out exactly what part of superpowers involves being able to lift a heavy metal bar or outrun a treadmill. Plus, I am perfectly in shape as is. You just want to torment me."

“Well, I exercise to increase my lung capacity, to run fast, and to break people’s jaws. You should exercise to not be a pathetic lump of usefulness when you lose your powers or can’t use them,” Patti commented, and sipped on her frappe with a certain look on her face. “If you’re in shape, drop and give me 30 push-ups.” She said this deadpan, and gestured to the floor.

Grace put on a stubborn face and set her drink down on the counter, before lowering herself to the floor. She got in position and sank into a pushup. ”One..." she wheezed as she lifted her body up and down. ”Two...thr-" Grace was halfway into her third push-up before collapsing on the expensive, fluffy carpet. ”Ow..." she grumbled. ”Fuck you! I'm still hungover!" Still lying on the floor, Grace lifted her hand from the ground and raised her middle finger at Patti.

Patti used both of her middle fingers to flip off Grace right back. “It’s definitely not just the hangover,” she commented, examining her nails. “You’re just weak. It’s okay. We can fix that. Not like I’m the fittest person either, if I’m being honest… but at least I’m better than you.” Patti offered a hand to Grace, who was still laying on the floor. “Come on. You can’t go to the HERO gym while you’re suspended, which is a shame, but there’s a Planet Fitness just around here. It’s a no judgement zone, you know.” Patricia giggled at that. “No one’s around to think you’re pathetic. Unlike at the HERO gym.”

”I may be weak, but at least I'm not technically Blake's sister," Grace fired back, taking Patti's hand and rising unsteadily to her feet. ”I said I would go already, jeez…" She dusted herself off. ”I'm going to take a long shower and get changed. And also mentally prepare myself for my impending demise. You should probably shower, too. You smell like prison. And mothballs. And...gumballs, for some reason. I think that's why Chell is licking your leg so much."

“Eliza and I are not marr- wait, hold up, how did you even know- what?!” Patricia looked incredulous for a moment, before dragging her hands down her face. “I may be… dating Eliza,” she admitted, “but I am NOT Blake’s sister! I don’t even know if Angie and his relationship will last.”

Patti rubbed her eyes and sniffed her armpit, and then made a face. “Eugh. I do. Do you have a second bathroom? You probably don’t, it’s Castleburg. If not, I’m going first.” She stood from the chair. “I’ll just wear your clothes.” She didn’t ask if that would be okay.

”First off, you should really come out soon. The two of you are not even remotely conspicuous," Grace said as she finished off her latte, portalling it into the trash. ”My sources tell me that you went to a musical and a concert, last week alone. Seriously.” Grace rolled her eyes. ”Second, you are most definitely Blake’s sister. You might as well dye your hair red at this point. And third, I am rich, Patti. Of course I have a second bathroom," Grace pointed across the fancy kitchen at a white door. ”Right in there. Unfortunately, the in-shower entertainment system doesn’t work on that one...I’ll have to take a look at it soon." Grace opened a portal on the countertop, reaching into it like it was a laundry basket. ”Here. Take one of Tom’s t-shirts," she said with a smirk, pulling a Die Hard t-shirt from the portal and chucking it at Patricia. ”It’s very soft material."

Patti stammered at the suggestion that Eliza and her weren’t good at hiding their relationship, but eventually hung her head in admission “Alright, alright, maybe we will soon…” she relented, and listened to the rest of Grace’s yammering. Her eyes went wide at the mention of “in-shower entertainment system”, and just the idea of having two bathrooms in a one-bedroom apartment. Patti definitely did not have two bathrooms, and she lived with her mom!

“Jesus, you’re rich…” she muttered, and caught the shirt in her hands. She squinted at it, and then rolled her eyes. “Fine. I guess your clothes are too small for me…” With that, Patricia yawned and went to go take a shower in Grace’s very fancy bathroom. Torturing Grace at the gym was going to be so fun.

After Patti went off to take a shower in Grace’s golden bathroom (much to Grace’s disappointment, it was not all real gold), Grace quickly portalled a Coke out of the fridge and swallowed another Aspirin, before making her way over towards the other bathroom of her penthouse. As she walked, she paused to look at a sleek glass etagere mounted on her wall, which had a number of framed photographs. Of her with her parents, her sister, her old friends at PHANTOM, and of course, the rest of the gang from HERO. She removed the photo from the shelf, looking at it warmly. ”I don’t know what I would do without you." she whispered to herself, clutching the frame to her chest, before putting it back and walking over to the bathroom.

She pet Chell as she opened the door to the bathroom. ”You better make up your mind on who you want to live with next, in case I don’t come back alive," she said, very seriously, to the dog, before closing the bathroom door.

《 H. E. R. O. 》

Joseph’s tags had been enough to keep Jamie conscious and alive. That was pretty much it. Otherwise, the pain in her gut overwhelmed her senses, the kind of pain where she wished she would fall unconscious just to get away from it. Jamie had had plenty of internal bleeding and broken bones before, but she had never been shot or at least, close to it as in this case. It hurt. A lot. Which was why Jamie didn’t look over the plane to watch the fight. She could only listen.

From what she could hear, it wasn’t going awesome. After a minute or two, Cora burst in. Her voice carried over the plane and into Jamie’s ears from the elevator, and Jamie smiled absently. Help was here! She could’ve taken care of him had he not shot her like a coward, though! But just then, the sound of a roaring motor filled the room and… WHAM! As Jamie stared, shocked, a boat of all things burst in through the lobby doors, sailing through the air. A flying boat?! She barely had time to watch it soar over her before it audibly landed on the floor behind the plane. She let out a sigh. It seemed that more of their friends were here. She didn’t really pick up a lot, since she was unfocused and so, so tired… but it was enough to graph the situation. Joseph had lost, but their opponent had run. Cora, Rumi, Patricia, Alpha, Sam, and probably others were here. If only someone could come over here and fix her, then!

But just then something rose from the water. Jamie squinted, vision fuzzy. Was that a person? It looked like it? A red-haired woman rose from the water… but only partially. Jamie watched, dazed and confused, as the woman-well, half a woman- walked through the concrete. Was she hallucinating? Although she sat, huddled, a bloody arm over her abdomen, her muscles still tensed to attack, albeit weakly. It would probably hurt, but Jamie would bet that she could take this woman out if she wanted to. There were few people she couldn’t. But the woman (who looked strangely familiar, now that Jamie squinted a bit harder) didn’t attack. She greeted her, actually. Her muscles relaxed, and Jamie flopped against the plane, relieved. Maybe this hallucination was friendly.

"Name's Pandora, think we've met. I've got healing powers, but they aren't pleasant. It's probably gonna hurt, unless you want me to stick my finger in your noggin and put you to sleep for an hour."

“Huh?” Jamie cocked her head, still keeping a hand over her abdomen. “I’m Jamie,” she told her, voice sounding rather quiet. This healer had shown up out of nowhere. She listened as the woman rattled off a series of questions, barely able to keep her eyes open. It was all she could do to pay attention to Pandora talking.

"Answer my questions if you think it'll help you stay awake. But the main one is do you want my help or not? Like I said, it's gonna be gross and unpleasant."

Jamie was in no position to say no to help. Her hands, abdomen, arms, and costume were covered in blood. Her face was pale and drawn. She wasn’t bleeding much anymore, but there was a visible hole in her stomach. “Sure, why not,” she muttered, and let her arm flop from her abdomen to reveal the hole. “Can’t be much worse than getting shot.” She cracked a grin. “I don’t think it’s a bullet wound,” Jamie told her, trying to distract herself from what she was sure would hurt. “Not a bullet. Some ice shard. It was really cold, and then, like… well, it hurt. And as for my costume, I’m not sure? It’s supposed to have shock absorbers or something. Electric absorbers? Aren’t those the same thing? Yeah. I was supposed to get Rumi to work on them, but I guess I forgot...” Jamie clutched her own arm tight and shut her eyes as Pandora reached her arm out to heal her. This looked like it would hurt.

[@ZoeyBoey]

《 H. E. R. O. 》

It had all happened so fast. One moment, Patricia was awkwardly steering the boat around in circles as if she was driving her car, and then Alpha was taking the controls. She raised her hands in surrender and stood from the seat, letting him take the metaphorical reins. He probably had a better idea of how to drive this thing, she reasoned, although she had never seen Alpha drive a boat. But then… well. The lever snapped, and Patricia gasped as it went down to what looked like… the maximum setting?! Apparently, Alpha didn’t know how to drive a fucking boat. The boat zoomed forward, and she screamed, "SOMEONE GET THIS BOAT UNDER CONTRO-” before she was flung into the wall along with everybody else.

Her head slammed against the wall, but Patricia managed to grab onto something to keep herself from being flung off the ship when they crashed, and she shut her eyes in anticipation of the oncoming crash. Please don’t let me die from a boat crash, she pleaded internally. But nothing ever came. Except for smashing through the gates, Patricia felt no impact of any kind. She had felt that feeling of flying through the air, but now, they were stationary, and it didn’t even feel like they were in the water anymore. So she scrunched her eyes open, fearfully, and gazed out the window.

Her relief was immediately palpable. They were inside of the building and very much not dead. Patricia sighed loudly and let go of th e wall. “Thank god,” she muttered. “How did the boat not break?” The question was more rhetorical than anything, but it still seemed worth asking. She wiped away some sweat on her brow. Or maybe that was just rainwater, she couldn’t quite tell anymore. She was soaked. The area in front of them didn’t look so bad, although Patricia assumed that there was a lot of space behind them that their boat had apparently jumped over. There was a blonde woman and… a robot?

The blonde woman came up to the boat, who Patricia didn’t quite recognize fully. She seemed cheery enough, though, and Patricia chuckled before realizing that she was entirely serious. “Oh, yeah. That was absolutely on purpose. Mhm.” She stepped out of the boat, happy to be back on solid ground. “I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Pa- well, you already know that.” By the Division X uniform, Patricia could tell this woman was at least vaguely important, so she smiled lightly back at her. But that smile was quickly dashed as she was informed about Jamie and Joseph being hurt.

“Oh, no…” Patricia glanced behind them, and her face went white. She didn’t see Jamie, but there was blood streaked on the floor and walls, and Joseph was laying on the floor, bleeding heavily. Her stomach plunged to her feet. Hopefully no one was dead. “I-I’m sure there’s a first aid kit on the boat.” Patricia hopped back onto the boat, and searched through compartments for first aid kits. There wasn’t much, but she eventually found two next to the lifejackets. She handed them to Cora, and gulped. Her power wasn’t much good for healing, and she knew fuck all about how to use a first aid kit, but if anything… she could relieve a bit of pain or put them to sleep. But that was all she could really do besides gauze and Neosporin.

“We went to Club 27” Patricia started, intending to update them on what had happened. “We met up with Blade, he gave us a boat… what happened here? What hurt these two so badly?”

@Hitman@DarkRecon@DClassified@Scarifar

《 H. E. R. O. 》

“Blade?!” Patricia exclaimed upon seeing the S-tier superhero, surprise making her eyes widen. That was not what she had been expecting at all. Her expectations had been more along the lines of a big fight- but this was nice too. She relaxed a smidge. Blade still put her a bit on edge, but at least he wasn't actively trying to kill them. Reluctantly, she met his hand with a handshake of her own. “Patricia. Or, like, Aria. But you knew that already.” Strangely enough, Patricia had never met Blade while she was working at H.E.R.O, but she had certainly heard of him. Everyone had.

After a moment, Patricia managed to school her face back into one of indifference. Her eyes flicked to the screen when Blade mentioned it, and they widened ever so slightly. Kat, obviously, looked familiar to her, and so did Seraph, but the other man… it was sort of like a deja vu. She could swear she had seen his face somewhere before- which made sense once she realized who he was. Katharine’s father, Commander Zero. It made a bit more sense than she would have liked.

She watched the video with narrowed eyes and crossed arms, trying not to react too much. As much as she would deny it, she sort of wanted to look cool in front of Blade. Once it was done, her eyes flicked back to him.

“We didn’t commit any federal off- oh God, we did, please say H.E.R.O can pardon us…” she muttered, anxiously, and any “cool” persona she had tried to cultivate melted away. She glanced to Sam, Pandora, and Alpha nervously. Hopefully, if all went right, they wouldn’t be sent to jail at the end of the day. But, more pressing matters… this dock thing.

Patricia squawked, indignant, at Pandora’s comment. “I don’t usually commit felonies! Unless you count mind control, but I’m licensed and allowed to!” After her rebuttal, she followed everybody to the outside.

---

It was still pouring outside, which was not pleasant- she had just started to dry off! But they trudged on through the freezing rain, anyways. She was soaked through, shivering, by the time they got to the boat, but still hopped in and started to browse through the rack of weapons. She’d guess that everyone in Elmore Island was Patti-proof already, so she’d probably need some firepower… Going for the only thing she really knew how to operate, Patricia picked up a handgun and checked its ammunition before tucking it into the waistband of her shorts.

It was a good idea that Pandora piloted. The only boat Patricia had ever been on was the ferry, and she was only really licensed to drive. She stood in the cabin with everybody else, watching Elmore Island grow closer and closer. Seraph was inside, she knew, and they were probably going to have to fight him. Plus some Zero combatants- which sort of worried her. Would Kat be there? Probably not, she reasoned, but if she was the weakest of Zero, then they’d be in for a huge fight.

Patricia’s eyes widened a considerable amount as they reached Elmore Island, and she laughed at the destruction she saw. “Holy shit,” she exclaimed, leaning in to get a better look out the window. It looked like everyone had already gotten here, and had already wreaked their own sort of havoc on the castle. Were they… winning? She couldn’t quite tell, but if the fire was Blake’s then… yes, maybe? She did a little round of applause, and then winced when she saw the turrets pointed at them. They were probably too far away for her to hypnotize them, logic said, and probably couldn’t hear her if she tried. Plus, if she tried to stick her head out of the boat… well, she didn’t want to think about that. Getting shot full of bullets was no fun.

“Um, if no one else can boat, I can drive?” Very reluctantly, Patricia sat down in the seat. Couldn’t be that different from driving. Keeping an eye on the water for the dark shadow of Pandora, Patricia tested out the levers and started to zoom around the bay in jerks and nervous circles, watching the gunners nervously.

@Zoey Boey@Hitman@DClassified@DarkRecon

《 H. E. R. O. 》

Jamie watched, satisfied, as her move turned out just the way she wanted to. Although she hadn’t tried too hard, the prison guards went flying across the room, slamming to the ground in a crescendo of clatters and groans. A grin flashed across her face. It was always good to do something. When one of the guards stood, she put her hand out in a threatening manner, but he dropped back to the ground anyway. Good. She hadn’t really wanted to hurt anyone.

“Let’s go, you g-” she started, approaching the elevator, before it dinged and opened. A tall, pale man stood in the elevator. Suddenly, chills ran up Jamie’s back. Whether that was because this guy creeped her out (he did) or if the temperature had just dropped a few degrees (it had) alluded her. Her hands went up anyways. But then they went down again to rub her arms when the temperature dropped some more. Her teeth chattered. She glanced to the walls, covered in frost. Was this guy a Wing of Law, then? That had to be it. Bastard. She narrowed her eyes and held out her hands, ready to crush him.

She didn’t even see the shard of ice before it barreled into her stomach.

A sudden, horrible chill went right through her, and then the force of it knocked her straight to the ground. At first, Jamie thought she had been hit with a block of ice or a cold punch to the gut. Not that bad. Certainly more painful than a normal punch, but not that bad. Why was Angela screaming her name? She was alright. Fit to fight.

That was when Jamie looked down. Standing, the young woman caught sight of her stomach- ripped through and dark red with blood. She gasped, strangled, and touched her hand to it. Her pale, lily-white fingers came away stained dark-red. Had that guy just… shot her?! Over the years, Jamie had suffered a lot of injuries, but she had never once been shot.

That made her angry.

Narrowing her eyes and gritting her teeth through the intensifying pain, Jamie raised her hand and blasted Winterfall, eyes full of fury. But it didn’t even last one minute before she screamed and crumpled to the ground again, clutching her stomach. “AAH!” Her abdomen burned as she bled. This is it. This is how I die. All because of fucking Seraph and his little ice minion. She’d kill him if she could stand and use her power without screaming out again.

Joseph came running towards her almost as soon as she fell, scooping her up in his arms and setting her behind the plane. Her breath came out in gasps- not because of her injuries, but because of her panic. What Joseph said reassured her, though. He was smart. Of course he knew. “You’re sure? I don’t feel fine…” Jamie laughed, a high-pitched sound. She looked down at her wound, feeling woozy as she saw her blood again. But Joseph was doing something odd… “Why are you smearing your blood all over me?” she asked. The pain faded a little, not making her want to pass out now, and she sighed in relief. “You’re weird. You know that?”
“What’s gonna-” She didn’t finish her sentence, only gasped sharply. He flipped her onto her stomach, and she cried out once again. It hurt like a bitch, but she grit her teeth and tried to get through it. Besides, she was usually hurting anyways. “Why’d you have to do that?” she complained, face against the ground. “You’re really mean.” Of course, Jamie didn’t mean it, but a wound like that and all-encompassing pain didn’t exactly make her very cooperative.
Or nice.

She was flipped over again, leaned against the side of the plane. Strangely enough, Jamie felt… sleepy. Almost as if she was tired, but… she wasn’t. Jamie didn’t realize it, but she was sweating bullets (ha), too. Laying there, in her blood-soaked costume, she leaned her head against the cool metal of the Mini-Jet and smiled at Joseph, faint. “Duh. Of course I’ll be fine. Fight good for me, alright?” And with that, Joseph disappeared, leaving Jamie behind the jet, alone. She could hear the sounds of the fight behind her, and wanted to join in, but thought better of it. She was out of the game, for now.