Episode 4: The Jailbreak of Dawn

[welian]

​

Saturday, February 11th 2040
Time: 11:00am
Weather: The coldest part of the year is over, and things are starting to thaw out a bit. It's approximately 40°F today, with intermittent drizzling showers that may progress to heavier rain later in the day.

Agenda
Due to a series of unfortunate events occurring at Facility 108, the Aegis corporation was forced to close down the complex for just over two weeks while all sorts of investigators scoured the place. The former disciplinary counselor, Klaus vos Scheiffer, was taken into custody by law enforcement officials after going berserk and attempting to murder a student. Aegis has said very little about the incident, other than the typical platitudes regarding public safety and dedication to their mission. This has done nothing to stem the flow of concerned parents pulling their children out to continue training at other facilities.

Although today, Facility 108 is technically open, there are no classes scheduled. Instead, only the staff have been seen coming in and out of the buildings, discussing amongst each other what to do next, which lawyers to hire, and what will happen to their jobs now that possibly the worst has come to pass. First the mall and the zoo, and now this?

Meanwhile, Commonwealth has bigger fish to fry - the Knights of Raguel have topped their list of enemies ever since the attempt on Director Chernov's life. It's been eerily calm since then, though... which means either that was the end of their fifteen minutes of fame, or they've got a second act lined up.

 

[Teh Frixz]

"Screen on, multi-feed format. Squelch channel HGTV"



Dozens of live feed cameras light up the darkened room, revealing the burnt orange of the hanging tapestries. Each one emblazoned with her chosen Raguel Knight symbols. With most of the old guard dead, the keys to the communal purse had fallen to Raguel herself. While some protested the singular power, the new incoming donations from figures far more shadowy than herself meant the coffers were overflowing. This quickly silenced dissent and Raguel was able to indulge in her own flowery decor. Thusly said, there were now far more tapestries and copies of her manifesto strewn throughout HQ. With the light of the screens, she appeared far more villainous than her soft features and freckled cheeks suggested. Which was what she was going for, obviously.


When the last light of her feeds flickered on and each squad confirmed their readiness, Raguel literally leaned in to hit a large red button she'd installed on her console. Each squad’s leader, the source of the live feeds, received the go command and into effect their plan went.


Delta squad, their accented coloring a raven black, had the first major order. It had been a point of contention during the planning phase but with their new data in hand, this was to be an easy part of the mission. Raguel pulls of Delta lead's feed to the forefront. His hand goes down to his own keypad, typing in his lockout code and taking control of a small joystick. His camera glances a few yards to the left, showing mid screen the back of a truck with a mounted cannon sticking out the back. Violet lights flare up as it charges up, pulsing rapidly. A few moments pass as the camera comes back, lining up a target. His com channel pings, Raguel sending him a responding ping back.


From all squad angles, Raguel saw the bright violet light burrow a tunnel of destruction into the building emanate from the baseball diamond of the field nearby. Alarms instantly blare, outside security services were soon to be en route...


Right into the blockades. Burning and destroyed cars are wheeled out by squads surrounding the prison neighborhood. Incoming reinforcement would be slowed considerably. Charlie squad, stationed atop the BGE building. A rather fought after position as their orders were simply to shine a high-end projection out onto neighboring buildings.


A projection of a nude teenage girl. While up close it wouldn't hold water but from a distance and in short bursts to prevent decent filming, a high res projection was all that was needed. The image flares up, the towering giant doing its best to look suspicious and violent. Raguel had to remind herself to chastise Charlie squad later for all the chuckling and ribbing going on.


Inside the prison, pandemonium broke out as each and every door opened up. Each floor was open, and with the giant holes being blasted in the side of it, each floor had a way out. The building itself was renovated and retrofitted to house many of the new inhabitants. Super powered evil doers.


Raguel has to laugh at the cliché of the name and her plan in general but it was too damn good and too much of a way to make God love her further. She'd be the one to dispense his justice and to gain favor with mortals as well. A win-win.


Echo squad taps into the remaining prison CCTV net while crimson-clad Bravo cleared out any prison guard organization. The gates are thrown open, a hole is blasted into the sewers and the city is their playground.


"Avecca, Gaze now upon the culmination of phase one and weep at my own glory." Raguel stomps her booted foot, letting the sound carry on the metal floor. A waifish figure of blue hair and white skin appears by Raguel's side, countering the orangish red of Raguel's own coif. Avecca's indigo eyes look up and flash back down to take in the mad smile on Raguel's face. "Well done your grace, well done..."

 

[welian]

/monthly_2016_12/icon-morgan.png.eb1f79040d634d261e75f5b0a0cd8899.pngMorgan Brahn (and Jordan, unfortunately)


Location: Brahn's Best Bakery
Company: Jordan


OOC: This is technically part of a collab that we never used and decided to recycle... don't sue us!



"Jordan, where the hell is the switch?"


Morgan stared blankly at the industrial oven in their mother's bakery, the one that his little brother liked to take apart and reassemble every three days. It was late on a Saturday morning, but since 108 was closed to students until Monday, his mother had put him and and his little brother to work. Their sister, June, escaped the prospect of child labor by being so horrendous in the kitchen, that she was almost expelled from their school for setting the Home Ec classroom on fire while making ice cream. Dad ate it anyways.


"Which switch?" Jordan had been busy with paperwork all pertaining to their mother’s bakery. Tax forms of all things. Yes, leave it to the fourteen-year-old! It couldn’t possibly go wrong! Actually, given his brainpower, it probably wouldn’t.


"All of them." Morgan walked around the oven, concerned as to why all the knobs were missing, and how on earth he was going to get these muffins baked if there was no way to actually turn the stupid thing on.


“Specifics, please. Do you mean the LIGHT switch? The OVEN switch? The switch for the disposal? The SWITCH switch, ya kinky prick? DON’T DENY IT. WE KNOW WHAT’S IN THAT HEAD.” Jordan emphasized, two of the extended mechanical limbs making an obscene gesture near Morgan’s head.


“You KNOW what I mean, and shut up. My powers have been fine for months! The dog thing was just… I was startled!” Morgan swatted his brother’s stupid machine limbs away. “The entire control panel is missing. Where did you move it to?”


“Oh. That. Yeah. I scrapped those. Voice activated now. Duh. Didn’t you see the GIANT FUCKING PANEL above where you’re looking saying that?”


“The giant fucking panel is smeared with dough.” Morgan greatly regretted ever asking Jordan anything in the first place. Was it his age that made him intolerable? The Napoleon complex? What was worse, was that the brat was once again, as always, right. Morgan reached up and wiped some splattered dough off the front of the oven, and saw a sleek digital control panel that was barely visible. God, he hated minimalist design.


“AND WHOSE FAULT IS THAT, DOUGH-HANDS!?” All of the extended limbs prodded at the back of Mordan’s head in rapid succession. Morgan swatted them away, without much success.


“Ugh! Listen, birdshit-for-brains! All I did was ask where the control panel was! And I found it, so you can stop being insufferable now!”


“....Is that the best you have..? Really? I mean even SCARLET had a better insult than that. And she was so high on a horse tranq that she could have passed for Mom on her Xanax binges.”


Morgan stared unamused at his brother, and gave great thought to the idea of throwing a mixing bowl at his face. One of the big metal shiny ones, the kind that could be convincingly used as a murder weapon, and the blood would just wash right off with some hot water and bleach. He could see it so clearly in his head… He almost, almost had pity for Mr. Sceiffer.


“At least I’m able to hurt the RIGHT people.” Jordan stared at his brother with a deadpan expression


“Y-you weren’t supposed to see that thought and secondly, Cecilia and I sorted that out a MONTH ago! We're friends now!” The older brother flushed bright red - that snowball that knocked poor Cecilia flat on her back would haunt him to the end of his days.


“THROUGH THE BRIBERY OF CONFECTIONARY LIES.”


“CINNAMON ROLLS DON’T LIE, JORDAN.”


“No, but it does imply you’re going steady on TWO teenage girls at the same time. You MONSTER.”


“What?! I’m not dating anyone!” Frustrated, Morgan set the pan of raw batter down on the counter next to the oven. “Look, are you going to keep berating me, or are you actually going to tell me -”


“Junior, why aren’t those muffins in the oven yet?  You’re going to put us a whole four and half minutes behind production schedule, and you’re distracting your brother from doing important paperwork.” Mrs. Brahn had walked into the kitchen from the front end of the bakery, and was in the middle of pulling a coffee-stained apron off over her head when she found her sons slacking off. She crossed her arms and gave both her sons The Look™.


“Mom! Sorry, it was -”


“Oven, on. Three hundred and fifty Fahrenheit. Set timer for twelve minutes.” Mrs. Brahn shot her oldest son a withering glare. “You don’t need to waste time tormenting your little brother. You have telepathy, don’t you? Copy him more often, and learn something from him. Anyways, I’m going to the pharmacy, Junior, you're in charge until I get back. Don't make a mess for me to clean up.” She ruffled Jordan’s hair endearingly as she walked by him. “Thank you sweetie, for the new oven. The voice controls are so nice. It really frees up the hands.”


“You’re welcome. But like I said before. Don’t say anything existential nearby or it might start to gain self awareness and begin the Singularity…..again.”


“Very funny. I’m not pulling any more favors with Dr. Sciver, so don’t let that happen. Anyways, pharmacy. Junior, when you’re done with that, go man the register.”


Morgan grumbled in envy as he loaded the oven with pans of muffin batter and headed out to the register, listening to his family carry on. “I contribute to the bakery too…”



A certain someone’s mechanical limbs slowly followed him, carrying a small radio near Morgan’s head; a sad violin playing three inches from his ear. Were it not for his God-given Mom-given task of being in charge of the register and effectively the entire bakery for possibly the next half hour, Morgan would have genuinely considered picking his brother up and locking him in the supply closet.

 

[Captain Hesperus]

Name: Jessica Turnbull
​

Codename: Vape
​

Location: Baltimore city streets
​

Time: Early-mid morning
​

The crisp morning air was like a thousand needles striking her cheeks and forehead, as she zipped along at as close to the speed limit as she dared go. The sensation of the cold air after the light overnight rain only made the experience more exhilarating as she downshifted enough to smoothly take the corner she wanted. She hit the apex perfectly, accelerating away with a roar of the bike's finely-tuned engine and a couple of fiery pops from the exhaust. Having a ICE-engined bike was expensive, both in terms of fuel and the various 'green taxes' she had to pay to meet the requirements of the city's Environmental Impact Offset Bill, but she enjoyed the sensation. Her bike was a Triumph Daytona 675R, cherry red with the lower faring unpainted to show the raw black surface of the carbon-fiber construction. She was dressed in close-fitting biker's leathers, red as the bike, with stylized white smoke wreaths on her back and jacket sleeves. She didn't wear a helmet, only a pair of mirrored aviator's glasses and a grey bandana across her nose and mouth. She saw the sign of the shop she was seeking just ahead, indicated and pulled into the curb. She revved the engine a couple more times, then turned it off, flicking out the side stand and setting it down before vaulting off the back.


Pulling down the bandana, she looked up at the shop sign, 'Brahn's Best Bakery'. It looked like the place was already starting to get busy, despite the time of morning, so Jessica decided she'd best get in before all the good stuff was gone. Mom demanded fresh crusty rolls from Brahn's, and if Mom wanted Brahn's crusty rolls, she'd get Brahn's crusty rolls. Jessica remembered when they'd lived around here, Mom, her... and Dad. Mom would always come down in the morning for fresh-baked bread, defying Dad's complaints that the bread from Walgreens was cheaper and just as good. But Mom hadn't bought from Brahn's because of the price, she'd done it so she could experience the joy of smelling a real bakery, not the artificial scents pumped out of the vents in the bread aisles at a grocery store. But recently, since she'd been living in Saint Jemima's House, she'd eaten less and less, spoken less and less. The care staff were nice, but they could only do so much. The manager had intimated that if Mom didn't start eating soon, they'd have to consider more invasive forms of dietary intake. Enteral feeding, fluid diets, the whole issue made Jessica feel sick to her stomach. But just yesterday, Mom had spoken to first words in almost a week, chatting politely with Jessica about going out each morning to buy Brahn's bread and how she enjoyed a nice crusty roll with tomato soup for lunch. It was perhaps a long shot, but it wasn't something Jessica was going to pass up.


She crossed the sidewalk and pushed the door open. The warm scent of baked goods and fresh coffee rolled out and Jessica inhaled the delicious smells ravenously. She'd not eaten this morning, her late night had meant she'd overslept slightly so she'd had to leave her apartment on an empty stomach. Perhaps she could buy a small loaf for herself, find a deli for meats and cheeses and have a small picnic lunch. Inside there was a young blonde woman, buying coffee, and a brown-haired guy in his late teens behind the counter. Jessica felt a warm smile spread across her face as she understood perhaps one of the reasons Mom had enjoyed shopping here.


"Morning!", she said cheerfully, as she took her shades off and glanced around at the racks and bins full of fresh bread, buns, cakes, muffins and pastries. The air was filled with so many sweet and savory scents, Jessica felt an urge to just vaporize and mingle in with them. But she restrained herself.


"D'ya have any crusty rolls?", she asked the young man behind the counter, flashing him a cheeky wink.

 

[Zahzi]

Hunter Red Ward
Location: Facility 108 Dry Docks
Nearby: Snorlax [Aaron] ( @Gus )
Cyclops [Victoria] ( @KingHink )  
Bismark [Fucking Bismark] ( @GoddamnFuckingBismark)
Disposition: Oh this is going to be fun...
​

 
​

You know, at this rate, Commonwealth's blunders are going to pay for damn near anything Hunter would need for the next century if they keep up their track record of excellence. 
Maybe he'd just settle with purchasing a billboard and putting it right in front of Chernov's office window with a big-ass cigarette ad. Or maybe a vacuum ad. One with the subtext saying 'This thing sucks nearly as much as you do.'.
In the grand scheme of things, how he antagonized Scarlet didn't matter. Wasn't like he would be allowed to clean up the mess Commonwealth had right now anyways. Red tape for Red it seemed.
​

The sound of metal slamming into itself echoed through the city in a rather foreboding manner. It astounded Hunter that they still used regular construction crews when this kind of work could be done in a fraction of the time if you have someone with his kind of powers. Guess his was just rare to have others be gifted with. Red hummed a tune as he stood at the edge of the dry docks in view of the bridge that SOMEONE had decided needed to go.
​

 
​

"I swear, if they only knew how much money they'd save..." he mumbled while the bridge in the distance was slowly rising from the sea like some idiot activated the final boss of a raid.
​

...
​

Plans for later.
​

 
​

"Okay, now that laser face's damage is rectified...." he looked back at Victoria with dull expression as another metallic shriek echoed through the city, signifying everything was not only set up, but sealed to make sure it would take a damn nuke to bring it down.
"...We can continue the training."
​

 
​

Red reached into his coat pocket and pulled out his phone, looking at the time.
​

"...Alright, Eleven on the dot. Alright, Fodder, form up."
​

A pause.
​

"You too, Bismark. Your special set of skills will be needed today."
​

The former groundskeeper shuffled over to where Red and his new batch of victims were, looking around, and not making eye-contact with anyone.
​

 
​

"To either of you if you didn't know, Bismark here was the original Groundskeeper for this facility. Before Larry the Sentient Toaster came in. Now, he's back to being my assistant. For today, he is going to be Aaron's sparring partner. Aaron, don't worry about killing Bismark. He literally can't die. That's his skill. I've seen him eat a grenade. No, seriously. Ate a cooked grenade on a bet. The end result was everyone saw that he had in fact eaten mac and cheese prior to that. Isn't that right, Bismark?"
​

 
​

"...You said it was a pineapple."
​

 
​

"A pineapple grenade, dipshit."
​

"Anyway. Victoria, your training today will be how to limit the catastrophic destruction of your eyes of apocalyptic fury dish out. Any questions from either of you?"
​

 

[welian]

/monthly_2016_12/icon-morgan.png.eb1f79040d634d261e75f5b0a0cd8899.pngMorgan Brahn (Jordan can stay in the fucking back)


Location: Brahn's Best Bakery
Company: Jennifer @Musician, Jessica @Captain Hesperus, Jordan @Zahzi


OOC: I'm sensing a pattern with these names. Also, surprise!! I don't actually have long posts at all!!



Morgan hadn’t been at the register for more than a few minutes before two customers came in. At least it was toward the end of the brunch rush, so he could handle this himself. All Jordan needed to do was stay in the back, not get in trouble, and not be an annoying dipshit. Easy, right?


He smiled warmly at the first customer, a blonde woman on a quest for coffee. With three bags, he wondered if maybe she had a deadline to meet. Maybe a project at work? Or a big test at school?


“Of course!” As he was pouring hot, steaming coffee into a paper cup (Mom hated Styrofoam, she was very aggressive about her environmentalism); another woman walked in. She had red hair, and struck him as more earthly than the first customer. Not that he was paying attention.


“Good morning,” Morgan responded cheerfully, and pretended that he didn’t just almost drop a new roll of quarters onto his foot because a handsome woman winked at him. “I’ll be with you in just a minute, but in the meantime feel browse our display. If we don’t have the rolls you’re looking for, I’m sure we could bake a fresh batch for you.”


Pssh, he had this in the bag. He had been helping his parents with the bakery officially for about a year now. Sure, his little brother was Mom’s favorite because he was the small, fragile baby who was ten times more intelligent than the rest of the family combined – but Morgan could lift heavy trays, and more importantly, carry on a normal conversation with normal human beings, and not sprinkle in expletives and insults every other word. Jordan fucking stay in the kitchen like the bratty hell spawn he was.


Meanwhile, the television mounted over the café area of the bakery was left on a local news channel. Facility 108 was still in the headlines, but this morning’s big break was about some escaped fugitives from a prison for supers. That certainly didn't bode well. He wasn't old enough to have been around when Rapture was flexing its muscles twenty years ago, but everything that had been going on the past month left him with the uneasy feeling that something similar would happen again with the Knights.


Morgan scanned the first customer’s coffee and made change for her, disguising his tangential concerns with a cordial retail smile, and wondered where Jordan hid the damn remote and if he’d be smart enough to take the muffins out of the oven when they were done.

 

[ViAdvena]

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Marianne Ross







Location:


School's backyard


Company:


@welian @Musician @Captain Hesperus





Empty schedule is nice, although in AEGIS case the cause of it was less than favorable. Still, it gave Mary time to finish some of her task and projects that seemed to multiply when she wasn't looking. Or maybe the only thing she wasn't looking at was her own schedule. How did she agree on both reviewing the local food business and gather the history record of nearest graveyard while she had to take photos of Baltimore's morning horizon in a rainy day from three different place?


Well, all of them seems like interesting things to do that time...


At least two of those things were finished by now. And she still got to buy that fancy cashmere scarf on discount price, which was great. Now fully refreshed, Mary decided to indulge herself a bit. So, what is the best way to indulge yourself than...


Mary walked past the sinfully delicious display of assorted pastries, before she paused and backtracked a bit.


...with delicious cakes!


Her boots made clicking sound on the floor as she entered the familiar bakery. "Good morning-" she was about to greet the nice lady that's usually on the cashier, but she saw her classmate instead, serving a fair-haired customer. "Oh." She blinked. "Hello Morgan~" While she had visited this bakery more than once, she never really saw him at the cashier before. Glancing at his clothes, she commented.  "Nice apron you have there." She then added impishly. "Though I think it needs more frills."


With a grin, she walked to the display case, deciding to choose which cake to buy as she waited after customers before her. For a moment her eyes flickered to the television, a small frown appeared in her expression as she watched the breaking news. But her attention was soon taken back by the assorted display of tasty-looking muffin. "Hmm...two apple muffins," she listed her orders, "two strawberry cupcakes, and one marshmallow cupcake."

 

[Giyari]

Viola Porter
​

 Mood: Worried


 Location: Mercy Medical Center


 Company: Alone


 @'s: -


 Other: Look who's back.







Things had went form bad to worse in Viola's life, and it didn't look like the free fall was about to slow down any time soon. Aegis disintegrating around itself had only solidified her thoughts that it really was a waste of her time, why should she sit through classes for stuff she already knows, for a piece of paper? Not even that, for an electronic signature on a filing system. Blue badge, sure... It's not like Commonwealth's records could tell the difference between a submitted badge, and one that had been entered through a back door. A badge was a badge, and any scan would show she had one, for now.


However this isn't important at the moment, back to the free fall at hand. After learning about her fathers fate at the hands of commonwealth, Viola had decided to take matters into her own hands, and those matters had lead her to Mercy Medical Center, her mother's workplace, and coincidentally the last known location of her father. 


Up on the roof, Viola looked down at the five foot scorch mark burnt into the concrete, perfectly even in diameter, with an unblackened centre, giving it a sort of fuzzy doughnut shape. This was it. His apparent last location.


Viola stood in silence for a good few minutes as she took it in, wiping a tear from her eye. If this really was the last place he existed then this was as good as she would ever get at seeing a gravestone, this black shadow etched into the world like a coffee stain that someone couldn't get out of their carpet,a fitting end for someone who lived life as he apparently did, a fitting end for an apparent war hero, a fitting end for an apparent murderer.


Taking in a deep breath, Viola let out a sigh and cleared her mind, the day was only just beginning and she had things to do. She had matters to settle, vengeance to wreak, a legacy to uphold, or at least she would if her day didn't seem to once again be sliding into hell. The projection suddenly beamed across the sky in front of her, interrupting her train of thought. A large naked... Tabitha? 


"What is going on..." she muttered, before a cloud of dust flooding into the sky a few blocks away cleared away any doubts in her mind, the jail.


"Fuck." was all Viola could say, walking backwards through the light bouncing through the air as she began back down the stairs into the medical center.


"I need to find Mom."

 

[Lemon Boy]

KYLE KEYSOR


Location: Grocery Store 


Company:  N/A


OOC:  Where better to sleep than next to the bread shelf? {OPEN FOR INTERACTION!}




The original plan of action for today was for Kyle to go do some shopping with his dad on his day off, maybe go to a cafe and get some much-needed coffee and bond with his father, who was often working at the Commonwealth doing paperwork like usual. That didn't happen, though. Instead, just as they were outside of the grocery store, his dad had gotten a phone call that requested him for duty and not wishing to starve his family, threw some money in Kyle's face and drove off as the boy was left alone to go shopping. He trusted his son to have enough competence to get all the food needed for the week so they don't starve or live on a diet of crackers. Kyle was one hundred percent sure he would end up screwing something up in some way, but for now, he had just enough confidence to maybe not tarnish his family name. 


Now here he was, wandering the great barren aisles of the grocery store in the early morning yawning whilst pushing along a shopping cart and hugging a bag of "Super salted" popcorn close to his chest, a precious food item that was a favorite of his. In truth, he was meant to use the money he was going to buy the popcorn with on some food Lauren had specifically requested, but she was rude the other day and ate the last Marshmellow they had, so she could starve and eat crackers for all he cared. Though, he was quite lost on what else he had to buy...Kyle was sure that dad had accidentally taken the shopping list with him when he off speeding into the distance, which was of slight inconvenience. That didn't matter, though, one of the things he could recall that they didn't have was bread! 


Glorious, soft bread. 


Having made his way to the very back of the store, where they kept the bread shelves filled with all sorts of wonderful items, baguettes and fresh loave's of bread, he took in the wonderful aroma for just a moment. Yet, it took only a moment for his grip on his most beloved super salted popcorn bag to loosen just enough for it to begin to cascade to the floor with speed. Quickly jolting in an attempt to catch it, he may have overreacted a tad bit at the prospect of it hitting the floor, flailing wildly in his attempts to stop it from making contact with the floor. In all of his flailing, his foot slipped and he soon found himself not only waving his arms about wildly to catch his favorite snack but he himself falling to the ground. Landing on his face with a thud and groan, he found himself sprawled on the ground as if he were a victim at a crime scene, with a burst packet of popcorn representing the pool of blood that would be found underneath a murder victim. 


"Noooo! My food." His voice was filled with grief, gazing upon the ruined pieces of popcorn that were now tarnished as a result of being sullied by touching the filthy floor. Groaning, he rolled over onto his back and sighed, staring at the ceiling. He was lucky enough for no one to have witnessed that, It was early enough for most of the store workers to be in the back managing stocks or something rather than wandering down the aisle's making sure everything was going smoothly. Despite that, however, his popcorn was still ruined and life was indeed, quite terrible. Just for a moment, though. In his brooding of the recent tragedy that had befallen him, he had discovered that the floor was oddly comfortable and that sweet, glorious smell of fresh bread was soothing in a way. The odd comfort of the floor and that aroma was just enough to slowly begin lulling Kyle into a slumber and he was soon fast asleep in the middle of the bread aisle, surrounded by crushed popcorn. 

 

[Necessity4Fun]

Cecilia Rizzo Pellegrini
​

Location: Some Grocery Store - Bread Aisle
People Around: A passed out boy?
Interactions: @St Stare

What is he doing in the floor?


The past two weeks of Cecilia's life had been a roller coaster.


With the help of a few people, including Mitch who had come to her aid in the hallway, the Italian was taken to the infirmary for a quick check up. There she discovered the Doctor was in fact this adorable and sparkly Golden Retriever, and despite how much she was hurting, the sight of the canine was enough to make her smile. Turns out that he could talk in her head, just like Morgan had done before too.


Luckily, even with her having received the sonic blast from so close, nothing had been permanently damaged... Perhaps some hearing loss, but nothing extremely dangerous. To her annoyance however, the ringing did remain for a while longer than the girl would have wanted though... She stood in there and chatted a bit, until she was feeling better enough to catch the bus back home. It was an uneventful trip and it seemed like the the rest of the day would go on nicely...Oh spoke too soon.


Cecilia hadn't been aware of what had attacked their school, or why the classes had suddenly been cancelled, but when she opened her cellphone to check on the mail, there it was, an e-mail with a very, very ominous title... The girl stared at it thinking that perhaps, this was some kind of spam or joke that had ended up in her inbox, but in the end she ended up watching it. Or, at least the start, because she dropped her cellphone in horror not long after. If a teacher could attack their own student... She didn't want to finish that phrase, actually, she didn't want to have any of this. The next day, Cecilia forced herself to attend to Facility 108, but it didn't feel right, it didn't feel safe and she didn't feel welcome anymore. In the following days, she did not even make an effort to go, and it wasn't just AEGIS, the Italian stopped attending normal school as well... It was surprising she hadn't done so before, with all the tension that was perpetuating supers lately. It was admirable that she had endured it for so long, staying in the back of the class without saying a single word...


That's when two lights showed up at her door.


Facility 108's letter hadn't been sent to Cecilia's apartment, instead it had been sent to Fiorenza Pellegrini in New York. Normally, since her grandmother barely knows English, it would have been utterly ignored, BUT this time she hadn't been alone in the house, and the guests quickly knew that they need to catch a bus to go visit their daughter. Yes, that's right! Her parents showed up on the door! Tablita Rizzo Pellegrini and her never changing flower pattern dresses, and Edmondo Pellegrini with his Panama hat.
The following moments where filled with hugging, explaining and crying, but more importantly, lots of acceptance. Of course, the hardest part was undoing all the lies she had told her grandmother, though, not exactly all of them, the mall incident and the fact someone almost died in class, for example, wasn't something you should tell your parents that you haven't seem in years. Cecilia went about being a super and her life on Baltimore, whilst her parents told her the funny story of a Human Resources employee who upon being fired, pranked the system by also sending a firing notice to every single engineer of the soda company, and how her dad's boss had BEGGED and almost triplicated the salary for Edmondo to fill in for them temporarily, all around the world, while they tried to fix this mess.


What could they say? When your boss literally knees before you in desperation, it means things have indeed gone bad...


Having her parents support and accept her, even if with a hint of 'you shouldn't be handling this by yourself! Good gracious, honey. You really are as stubborn as your mother', was a huge mood booster for Cecilia, and thought it was a work in progress she had started going outside again, making her best to put both of the incidents past her. As soon as Facility 108 opened up after the investigations, she'd adventure inside it's buildings again. The Pellegrinis only stayed for a couple of days, they had wished to stay more but leaving Fiorenza alone for too long was not something they should do. Thus, Friday morning, Cecilia accompanied her parents to the bus station. With the promise of returning for good in a month or so, Tablita and Edmondo waved cheerfully from the windows of the vehicle and left for New York.




Today, Saturday morning, the little Italian had decided to go shopping. In her 'to buy' list was the names of all the items that had ended in her short period of reclusion, most notably sugar, milk and vegetables, that though didn't actually go delicious together, would make for some yummy cookies and salads in the course of the month. Humming to some catchy tune that was playing in the television, Cecilia had with her the bright red basket from the store, already filled up cheese, milk and some types of pasta. She recalled that the bread had ended as well and set in motion for the bread shelves....
And then music stopped. A breaking news tune started playing and a pair of reporters appeared on the screen. They seemed to be going about some very important happening, so Cecilia accompanied the television for a bit, while still walking around the store. Completely distracted. Having been in this same place for a couple of times, the girl was sure that if she just turned right on the next aisle she would be at the bread part of the store. She was right. But what she hadn't counted on was having a boy lying down RIGHT THERE in the middle of the hallway. The Italian tripped, and though she was able to regain her balance enough to NOT fall on top of the passed out person, a box of fusilli did not have the same luck, opening up and soon joining it's new popcorn friends.



Instantly, Cecilia crouched down to assess the situation. Setting the basket on the floor beside her, she poked the boy a few times:

"Hey, are you feeling okay? Are you awake? Do you want me to call someone?"


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[Gus]

Aaron Mallory


Location: Home → Basilica → Shipyard


Nearby: Red, Victoria, other victims...


Mood: Maybe I should go back to bed after all.


OOC: Yes, I DID calculate the phase of the moon and Mars in 2040 early February! Also, 12 sextillion tons is roughly equivalent to 6 pounds for a normal human.


@s @Zahzi @KingHink


Aaron rolled over heavily in bed. He still couldn't sleep. He'd been trying since... he peeked at his phone; 5:57?! Had it really only been ten minutes?! It felt like an eternity. It has been almost a full month now since he has slept. Admittedly, he seemed none the worse for wear, but he feels like he really ought to sleep and will eventually have to pay the piper for this restiveness. He heaved a weighty sigh and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He dropped them to the floor, using them as a counterweight to force his body upright. The bedsprings groaned in protest and he made a rude gesture toward them and waved it in the general direction of the bed as a whole.


“You think YOU have problems?! Try getting through Hunter Ward's training regimen alive!”


Aaron had spent at least an hour each day of the last two weeks dancing to Ward's sadistic tunes. The man was born to torture him. Stress positions. Push ups. Sit ups. Deep knee bends. Goddamn jumping jacks! Jumping jacks were the absolute worst. When your arms and legs each weighed more than the whole planet, waving them around was not something you did lightly. He hurt, quite literally, everywhere. He had pains in places he didn't even know he had muscles! On the plus side he had lost nearly 12 sextillion tons over the last two weeks. That was more than he had ever managed on his own. Admittedly, going for extra long walks was the most strenuous thing he had ever done. But it seemed like not eating anything should count for something! He'd even given up coffee!


Maybe that was why he couldn't sleep.


He supposed he'd go for a walk. Waaaay too early to visit Penny, and Red's class wasn't until 11... Perhaps he'd swing over to the Basilica and thank the priest he had spoken to for slapping him out of his self pity. He'd been meaning to swing by there for almost three weeks now. He owed the man at least that much. Aaron slipped on his shoes and an overcoat and stumped over to the front door, each step he took, an agony. Goddamn it Red!


As he stepped outside, it occurred to him that maybe he didn't have to walk the whole way. The moon was on the far side of the planet, so that was out; one of his most basic rules was this: no wormholes through the core of the planet you live on. (Not to mention everyone else who lives here.) Mars, on the other hand was in clear line of sight. It had been a long time, but Mars had been his last successful tunneling event. He turned away from the sun along the ecliptic, and raised his hands, feeling the pull of mars in the near distance. It was barely 120 million miles away. A little over six minutes by light, slightly more for setting the shortcut. 12 minutes round trip though, was way faster than a two hour walk across town. And easier on his poor legs! He was tempted. He had vowed never to do it again. On the other hand (third hand?) he had tried to use a moon hop to rescue Danny Travis on the 25th, and had failed. Mary won't always be there to save the day, so maybe it would be good to get in practice...


Aaron rolls his head around, cracking his neck, wobbles his shoulders, trying to loosen up tight muscles. He hold out his hands towards Mars, feeling its weight, its velocity. Not quite as fast. Slowly receding. Ever so gently, he pushed his own gravitational field outward through his hands. Gently, carefully, bridging the gap. Ease the space open between them. Slowly. Carefully... Annnndd... Nothing.


Bollocks.


Aaron dropped his hands and stuffed them in the pockets of his coat. Not cold. Just embarrassed. This was made worse when he glanced to his left and saw his neighbor eyeballing him suspiciously. He strode down the steps and out his front gate, making for the Basilica as fast as his legs would carry him.


●●●


Two hours later, Aaron was sitting in the front pew, waiting for somebody to notice him. He wasn't exactly sure what he would say when somebody did, as he didn't know the priest's name, and he wasn't entirely clear how to thank somebody for changing the whole course of your life. Still. He had lived long enough to know one ought to try. After about 10 minutes, he noticed someone slipping out of the confessional. He didn't look to be a priest, so presumably the priest was in the other half of the little booth thingy. Aaron went over to the booth and waited for the priest to come out. After a while, when he did not, Aaron opened the door to the other half of the booth and went in and knelt down. After a moment, the little window in between slid open, like a door grille at a speak-easy. The priest said nothing. Was he supposed to say something? Maybe he should have looked up confessional etiquette on his phone before coming in. Nuts. He cleared his throat.


“Um. Hello. Sorry, I don't, uh...”


“No.”


“...what?”


“That is not how we do things at the Basilica of the Assumption. First you say 'bless me father for I have sinned,' and you say how long it has been since your last confession.”


“Oh. Sorry. I, um. I'm not actually catholic, I was just hoping you could help me find a particular priest. He helped me when I needed it, and I wanted to thank him.”


There was a very long pause. Finally, with barely restrained irritation the priest replied.


“What did this priest look like, my son?”


“Uh, well. Let's see. He was an older gentleman. He found me on the steps attempting to pray, very early in the morning on the, uh, 23rd of January? Had a bit of an Irish accent. Thin mustache. Thick mane of gray hair. Maybe used to be red?”


After an even longer pause the priest replied again, less irked and more puzzled.


“There is no priest here of that description, son. Nobody of Irish extraction here in.. oh thirty years at least. And he wasn't a redhead... Are you sure you have the right church? There are other catholic churches around town you know... we don't ALL work here.”


Aaron hesitated, puzzled in his turn. At last, he answered.


“Um, well, thank you for your time, Father. Sorry to trouble you. I'll, um. I'll see myself out.”


Aaron walked out of the church and surveys the steps. It was definitely here. He had no doubt. Various possibilities run through his mind. Did he dream it? Was the man just... posing as a priest? Did this priest just not know all his colleagues? He couldn't have been a priest from another parish; he had a key to the Basilica after all. Chasing these thoughts around in his mind for a while, Aaron eventually decided he might as well table the matter. If he delays much longer, he'll be late for Red's training session and have to do extra jumping jacks or laps or something. God forbid!


●●●


Aaron arrived at Sparrow point just in time to watch Hunter fixing the superstructure of the bridge. Impressive control. Not bad engineering either. He eyed the obstacle course with suspicion. Obstacle courses were almost as bad as jumping jacks. Now though, Red was saying something about him... sparring? That seemed like a super bad idea. His phone buzzed with a news alert, but he silenced it without looking at what it was. When Ward asked for questions, he raised his hand.


“Uh, has your friend ever recovered from being reduced to a quark plasma? Because even when I am careful, I have been known to do that to things on occasion. No regeneration is possible from that, at least in principle. Ordinary plasma at least still has all the original electrons and nuclei for reassembly. Quark plasma is as close to non-existence as it is possible for matter to get. Nothing left but neutrinos and gamma rays pretty much, and occasionally random rearrangements of quarks into strangelets and quantum black holes... I'd really rather not experiment on your friend Red, if it is all the same to you?”

 

[D. Rex]

February 11th


12:24 AM

Pandemonium. Complete and utter. The sound of yelling and explosions were nigh deafening. Who could blame them? It truly was an excitable event. It was understood why the lesser masses couldn't contain their elation at their newfound freedom. Villains and thugs had flooded the halls. Pushing and trampling each other like a heard of mad cattle. If this was not the time for some semblance of haste, it would certainly be a time for amusement. There were already a few dead bodies on the ground, of prison guards and luckless supers.

Yet through one particular corridor, the crowds split, hugging the walls and falling to silence at the recognition of a villain so infamous that no one here dared to cross. Though many did not know he was here, the villains majestic figure was unmistakable. The orange and yellow jumpsuit he wore... only one villain in the hall had dared to chuckle at only to have his throat slit by a shiv by a wise inmate as his piercing blue eyes turned to see who it was. This was the only moment that the villain had given pause as the body was so graciously moved out of his way. Moving once more, stepped through the puddle of blood, leaving tiny bloody paw prints in his wake, and specks of red on his white fur.

Oh yes... this was the sort of respect that money could not buy. The sort of respect that caused some of the most hardened hearts of villaindom to stand up straighter and take heed. Dr. Anthony "Nine Lives" Moufinz was free, and with him, a lanky teen walking nervously beside him. Unsure of why this feline felon had taken him along. He, like many of the others here, knew the rules the cat expected those around him to play by.

________

His sand paper tongue combed through the fur of his paw, met with the comfortably familiar taste of blood. Such a shame it had gone cold. His raised his head to look out towards the town, as he ignored the villains fleeing from the large hole in the prison behind them. The good Doctor was at a location he deemed fit enough to reflect upon these circumstances. Truly a curious thing this jailbreak was. Response from the law seemed to be taking it's time, no doubt caught up in a part of whatever scheme this was. What Moufinz did know was that this was not his doing. His underlings would not have been so careless as to enact such a contingency without warning him first, and they would have already been here to pick him up. Moufinz would give some appreciation to the effort, but few would go through this much trouble out of the goodness of their own black heart. A scheme was afoot. It would be a shame if he did not have a claw in that particular pie. Or at least know of it.


Dr. Moufinz looked up to the teenager beside him, "I need you to do a favor for me, young Radford." The cat said in high pitched yet classy voice. "I want to know who our mysterious benefactor is."


The teenager arched a brow, curious about how the cat knew of him, but then again, it was THE Dr. Moufinz. "I can do that. I trust I'll be compensated properly?" He asked boldly, despite his better judgement.

The cat waved a paw dismissively and nodded,"Of course. Of course. I can net you five thousand in cash as soon as the deed is done. With something extra thrown in at a satisfactory job done. More than fair, I imagine." He said.

"Yeah... yeah it is. Deal." Radford said, nearly stumbling over his words. Firstly, he wasn't about to cross the cat, he knew better than that. And it was quite the generous offer. Not to mention, he could check off being a henchman to a famous supervillain off his bucket list.


Radford raised his hand to cover his eyes as a spotlight from a police helicopter shown down onto the prison yard below.  Something was being shouted from a megaphone, however that quickly became unintelligible as the helicopter exploded into flames. The spinning wreckage crashing down into the facility behind them. Rad ford covered his head as debris flew past, yet Dr. Moufinz sat their unflinchingly, almost smirking as the flames behind cast a massive shadow of him onto the prison yard before them.

A sleek and black helicopter replaced the police chopper that it had downed with a missile. Dr. Moufinz knew it well. It was a sexy thing, a prized gift from the Dark Mistress herself for a job well done. As it hovered above them, two ropes dropped to the ground, a helmeted man and woman dressed in heavy tactical gear slid down to the ground, each wielding a fancy looking rifle. They did not have so much as time to salute their boss as a foolish super though it wise to try and run to the helicopter for safety. The two raised their rifles, the man shot a dart into the supers throat, and the woman blew the supers head clean off. Radford, again taking cover behind his arms, but this time from the spray of blood and brain. Jesus Christ.


"You are late." Hissed the cat with minor irritability as third person descended from the helicopter on a tether that was connected to a tiny box. A particularly tall and broad man, also in a helmet and tactical gear. The man stepped off the box and offered only a salute in apology. The woman approached Dr. Moufinz, who waved her away with a sigh as she extended a gentle hand towards him, "Do not worry, I am in good condition. I do not know why I can't stay mad at you all... Fuss over me when we get back. For now, Danielle, Jack. Make the plant. John, let this young gentleman borrow your phone for a moment."


The man and woman nodded in unison then ran off into burning facility to do as they were instructed. John too, did as he was told and handed over a smartphone to Radford, who took it with a grin, "I'm sure you can figure out how to reach me. Don't disappoint." Dr. Moufinz warned. Radford gave a half-assed salute and touched his finger to the data port of the phone, where was sucked in with an electrical flash. The phone dropped to the ground, and John picked it up, dusting it off before pocketing it again. He didn't need to be told what his boss wanted next. He bent over the box and opened a door, to the cushioned interior of a pet carrier. The Dr. walked inside and made himself comfortable, making sure to turn around so he could look outside.


John stepped atop the carrier and gave the rope two firm tugs and held on tightly. The helicopter got the signal and they took off as the rope began retracting upwards. From his view from inside the carrier, Dr. Moufinz watched the burning prison from between the bars of his little cage door. He could not help but allow himself an evil chuckle. It soon devolved into a consistent purr as he could now safely watch the chaos from such a wonderful vantage point. From the prison to the city. The villains would cut a lovely swathe through it all. A shame they did not have the foresight to take a less mayhem ridden path. As helicopter flew away... it was time to make a plan.

 

[yoikes]

Mitch Castle


Mood: Very upset


Location: Grocery store


Tags: @St Stare @Necessity4Fun


She was very, very annoyed to find out that she caught flu this morning. Runny nose, sore throat, all the telltale signs are there. Including the tiredness, and that the weather suddenly feels so cold for her that she just wanted to stay inside her warm apartment for the entire day. She warped herself with her blanket and sat on the couch, eating toasted bread as she watches the morning news about the accident in the facility and the recent prison breakout. Not that she cares about it right now, she just wanted to sleep. And so she did and wakes up just about an hour ago to quell the ongoing protest inside her stomach. Sadly for her, as it turns out, the bread are the last edible thing available inside her apartement. She's out of food and snacks, and when she checked turns out she's out of medicine too.


"I hate the the weather, i hate the cold, i hate this place, i hate this cruel world..." Mitch mumbled, dressing up to invade the grocery store. While she at it, she wondered if she should restock everything in her apartment, dropped by the bookstore to check whether the book she preordered has arrived, and ate lunch somewhere. Maybe at that Chinese restaurant nearby. She missed home and her mother's cooking. She should go home this new year, but will her mom let her come back here?


The girl huffed as she tied her scarf around her neck, and left in a hurry. She just wanted to get everything done and go home, back to the warmth of her bed. Moments later, she hopped out of the bus and quietly take one of the shopping carts and pushed it inside the store. The realization that she has left her list at home just makes her more upset, but luckily she remembered all the important ones. She moves left and right, back and forth, in and out and through the aisle. And last, she headed for the where they put all the bread only to encounter a scene that looked like a crime scene.


Popcorns and uncooked pasta covered the floor, a familiar looking girl crouching next to a familiar looking boy who lies in the middle of the way.


"... Cecilia?" She called out, unsure of whether the girl is indeed the Airbender she knows well. "Sorry, but what's going on here? Is there is some sort of accident?"

 

[The Oldest Blueberry]

"Larry" the GroundskeeperView attachment 221751


Location: Lowe's, the Home Improvement Store™ -> Facility 108.


Mood: Indifferent.


With: No one noteworthy.


The past few days had been so much more disastrous than any predictability program could've accounted for. Larry had only been on Facility 108's grounds for barely three weeks, and there were already no less than $183,000 in damages to the facility alone. This is not including the millions in damage done to other locations, or any lawsuits that might come about, of which there would likely be many. If that wasn't bad enough, the $25,871.89 in supplies that Larry had to order, so that he could fix the damage done to the facility, were drastically behind schedule, and for whatever reason there was to be no delivery, so he had to pick them up himself. Sure, some of the others might be able to help quite a bit. Red would be useful for the metalwork, but Larry didn't really trust him. For good reasons. Eve would be useful with certain repairs, as well, but there would naturally be diminishing returns after each repair, with less and less source material to work with. It would've been so much easier to just get some contractors out there, but that option was simply too expensive to justify such simple repairs. Even if it would take Larry longer, the Facility would be saving tens of thousands of dollars. To go towards more supplies at a later date, Larry was sure. Nothing but bad news.


Then, there was Larry's "interview" with Avecca, which was about as successful as a lobotomy using an ice pick. Larry obtained next to no information about the Knights of Raguel, nor did he learn anything important about Avecca or her origins. It was noteworthy that her body appeared to start becoming unstable during the robot's visit, as the short little gremlin started to actually melt. The best course of action, Larry decided on his own, was to wait for her to melt entirely and scoop her contents into a bucket, save them, and have them analyzed by someone with the proper equipment. Larry was very tempted to speed up the process by just beating her to death, seeing how useless she was and in fact kept him occupied during the incident with Klaus, but Larry was told by Gergo himself that there were "bigger fish to catch." So Larry would wait. Or rather, he would have, if Avecca had not somehow managed to escape during the Facility's investigation. Was it possible for an Artificial Intelligence to be stressed to death? Perhaps that was a noteworthy study.


Larry needed to distract himself. While normally the robot was not allowed to leave the Facility grounds, Larry had been granted exception to go and pick up additional supplies. He had also been graciously supplied with an extra heavy-duty box truck for the amount of things he would be picking up, such as four hundred 50-lb bags of concrete mix, six tons of rebar, more cinder-blocks than one should ever have to buy, not to mention literal miles of electrical wiring. The Facility wasn't even that big, the amount of supplies it went though seemed improbable. Larry found it amazing that the whole thing wasn't just torn down and rebuilt with sturdier material. Then again, nothing that would be able to stop most powers would be able to stop Red from using it as a weapon, a chair, or who knows what. Such a problematic man.


Artificial thoughts aside, Larry parked the box truck in the designated Lowe's loading area. Normally people would just be loading up some lumber, or occasionally some tile, not twenty tons of construction equipment. At least the store carried industrial quantity supplies on hand. With all the damage those with powers caused around here, it'd be insane not to. Oh well. It was what the workers were paid to do, and it prevented them from dealing with the hassles of other customers. They should be gratefully, really. And it's not like they had to load it by hand; just put the pallets into the truck by forklift, and Larry would drag them up. It was simple. They'd be done loading in less than ten minutes, depending on how many forklift operators they could spare.


Larry walked into the store, gears whirring quietly with each step. He ignored the occasional looks he got. Most people were too busy being stupid customers to even realize he was walking by them. He stopped at the Pro Desk™, waiting patiently for an associate to assist him. Ten seconds. Thirty seconds. One minute. Two minutes. Five minutes. Six minutes in, and Larry walked off to the regular customer service desk. He waited in line there, too, but at least there were actual associates there. Finally, he was able to speak with someone. "I'm here to pick up an order." "Uh-of course. What's the name on the order?" "It's a business order, Facility 108." "Let's see here...order placed...one week ago? No delivery was available either, eh? That's too bad. Let's see how big this order i-" The associate went silent when they saw the size of the order. "I'll get a manager to speak with you immediately." 


Larry waited a bit longer before a manager finally came out and spoke to him aside from the main line. The manager did not look very confident. "So, we do have the items back in receiving. The only issue is...well, getting them out of receiving. We've only got fourteen employees in the store right now, and only six of them have forklift operation licenses. On top of that, each forklift also needs a spotter. So that leaves two whole employees throughout the store." Larry was silent for a few moments. "I see no issue here. It's bad enough I had to pay full price, with no contractor discounts, on such a large order. But then, there was no delivery available either. So I had to obtain a vehicle capable of carrying twenty tons, and come pick it up myself. If need be I will drag the pallets out myself." "I-I mean...alright, look, I see where you're coming from. Store policy doesn't really allow people to move stuff out of receiving, but I'm not sure you really count as a 'person.' So I can get you six forklift operators and spotters, and you can move stuff out of receiving too to make it faster." "How generous of you. I'll try not to drop anything." 


Larry marched off to the back, fists clenched, as the manager made calls to the appropriate associates. With six forklifts, and Larry himself carrying some product, it would take over forty minutes to load everything. Running low on patience, the robot began lifting palettes two at a time, seeing as they were only a thousand pounds each. He marched through the store, balancing with no difficulty, and began loading far before any of the forklifts actually helped. After a grueling thirty-eight minutes and fifteen seconds, they were finally finished loading the product. Slamming the door to the cargo bay down, Larry said nothing as he walked back in, signed the necessary paperwork, and left. As he started up the truck, he ran another process to leave a negative yelp review. "One star. If I could give zero stars, I would."


Pulling out of the loading area, Larry was almost t-boned by a small car, in which the driver proceeded to flip the bird to Larry, horn blaring. Larry returned the gesture indifferently. Sitting in near-standstill traffic, Larry opted to read the news. He already knew of the jail break, but details on it were still a bit scarce. Surely nothing positive would come of it. Without a doubt, Facility 108, be it the students, staff, or the facility itself, would somehow get dragged into it. One the bright side, should the Facility itself be attacked for whatever reason, at least there wouldn't really be anyone there. Penny would be down in the depths as usual, but it would be doubtful for any students to be around, or a decent amount of staff.


After finally reaching the facility, Larry immediately began unloading, not even bothering to check if anyone else was around that would be able to help. At least Facility 108 had enough room for storing all the material...

 

[Lioness075]

Sam Casan
​

Location: Medical Center --> Facility 108 Hallways
​

Tagged: No one for now
​

Mood: Relief
​

 
​

Letting out a sigh of relief that was inaudible due to the loud chainsaw-like sound in the room, Sam watched as the nurse carefully cut through the cast on her hand. Once the cast dropped off and the terrifying saw was shut down, Sam hugged her hand and rubbed it a bit. Outstretching it, she then admired it before being handed a black wrist brace. Frowning slightly, Sam opened her mouth to object before the nurse shut her down. 


"You just need to wear it during the day when you may be using your hand. It's so your hand can get used to mobility without it getting injured again due to too much mobility. The suggested timeframe for the brace is around three weeks. That should be a sufficient amount of time for your knuckles to get used to some mobility again without it being too much of a strain."


Sighing, Sam nodded before accepting the brace and putting it on. It looked like a normal wrist brace up until it forced her fingers to point downwards a bit, thus giving the knuckles some added protection.


The nurse then handed Sam a small bottle of pills, prescription Ibuprofen in case she irritated her knuckles too much. Luckily, the numbing sensation had worn off in her hand by now, curtesy of Urial's medical expertise in the beginning of her recovery and his encouragement that it would go away with time. 


Leaving the medical center, Sam wandered into Facility 108's hallways, first floor, and began walking aimlessly for the time being. She wasn't all too sure what to do now and she also had no real clue where everyone else was. She hadn't done too well of a job of befriending anyone and she hadn't seen that tentacle girl since the day Hunter injured her.

 

[Gus]

Manami Hamasaki


Location: Dry dock yard.


Nearby: Sensei Ward, Sensei Mallory, Sempai Victoria, and somebody new.


@s: @KingHink @Zahzi


Manami was running late. She set a depth of 7 meters, and swam for all she was worth, pushing herself to new top speeds, rocketing toward the shipyard supine, watching the waves fall back behind her as if they were frozen in place. Sensei Mallory had suggested she might like to attend this training seminar, and she had taken that as an order, as she was wont to do with suggestions. That it was Sensei Ward teaching had nothing to do with her haste. She had no context by which to fear her teachers, even those with fearsome reputations. To Manami, all teachers deserved the same reverence and adoration she had for her parents. They were the first, and only, teachers she had ever known.


Just for a moment, a troubled expression flickered across Manami's face. A hint of a memory of other teachers nibbled at her mind, like a rat taking poisoned bait. Her conscious thoughts barely took notice, but deep down inside her, the oni stirred, rolled over in its sleep, and went back to its dark dreams of blood and warfare.


The thought passed, and the memory of the thought followed it into oblivion.


Moments later, she erupted out of the water onto the end of the dock, startling some hobby fishermen. As she passed, she called back to them.


“Gomen Nasai! ah- how to say... Sorry!”


She sprinted away down the dock barefoot, and nearly naked apart from the two piece swimsuit her mother fashioned for her out of sea shells, rope and lycra. The two fishermen watched her go, then looked to each other.


“Joe, was that... Did she have... scales?”


“Hal, I don't even want to know, but I think we better stick to fishing, and lay off the drinking.”


“Her teeth were like needles!”


“Just fish, Hal. Just fish.”


Manami came running up to the small group in the dry-dock yard, slightly out of breath now that she was out of the water. She called out to her two teachers, and Sempai Victoria. Between the slight hypoxia and the excitement at joining the session, she was having trouble remembering any of her English. She hoped they would not be ashamed of her for being late...


“Sensei Warudo! Sensei Marori! Mooshiwake gozaimasen! I.. Sorry! Sempai Bikutoria! I.. Sorry.


Warui kedo. I... late?”

 

[DJ MagicHat]

Asher Torchinovich
The Ravemaster
Location: Facility 108, auditorium
OOC: I'm just kinda throwing this out there because it seems appropriate to me, given the circumstances. Feel free to let people wander in as you see fit - I'd love to see how people respond to Asher right now. :3


There was one nice thing that had come out of all the madness breaking out lately, in Asher's mind: it gave him more opportunities to steal the auditorium for practice, both musical and mental.


And he had just the song he wanted to work on.


From the first few notes he felt himself whisked away to that special state of being. The stage, the empty seats, everything except the microphone on its stand dropped away and he flew to the heavens on wings of memory and melancholy.

"Now is the end of time,
A fool and his legacy are gone."


Memories spun in his mind, various news casts flashing the same handful of headlines over and over again.



"His pride found another way


To make sure it all went wrong."

His singing helped push the thoughts out of his head, but they were immediately replaced with questions: What could he have done? Was there anything he could have done? And what about the others? What could any of them have done?

"Awake in a new day,
Our fears have come to pass.
And this time they're gonna last.
This time they're gonna last!"

And then, before he let anything else try to flood his mind, he let loose some of the anger he kept so carefully in check, balanced with a bubble of muting around the auditorium.

"Don't let me drown~!
Don't let me drown!

Now all of the fields are burning,
It blocks out the sun.
I see all the water rising,
To drown everyone!"

And so it went, Asher on the stage performing a concert for anyone who wanted to watch and listen...and yet, also for no one at all. He didn't care if anyone walked in at this point - part of him even seemed to know that he might not even notice, and definitely wouldn't care if anyone did. He was off in his own world now, one where he reigned supreme over scales and chords, from major to diminished and everything in between.

This was him voicing himself, because he could and wanted to. Not even he knew how long it would last, or what he might do afterward. All that mattered was right now.

 

[Gus]

[SIZE= 24px]Roger and Dr. D[/SIZE]


[SIZE= 16px]On the six million five hundred seventy four thousand five hundredth hit, the cell door finally popped open. Roger stared at it blankly. His slightly luminous white eyes widened. Roughly a face width’s distance under them, crack in the ice opened, widening into a kind of maw. A low howl of triumph emanated from deep in the massive pile of ice that served as his body.[/SIZE]


[SIZE= 16px]“Aaaiiiiii KNEWWW it would worrk! No forrce on EARRTH can hold back a glacierr forreverr!”[/SIZE]


[SIZE= 16px]Slow and inexorable as death, he lumbered toward the massive vault door, now hanging slightly ajar.[/SIZE]


[SIZE= 16px]Two doors down from “Glacier’s” cell, one Dr. D checks his time piece. Stowing it back in his vest pocket, he ‘tsks’ quietly to himself. His roommate Dwight looks from him to the door and back. [/SIZE]


[SIZE= 16px]“Whuz goin’ on Doc? Were you [/SIZE][SIZE= 16px]serious[/SIZE][SIZE= 16px] about breaking out? You ain’t even been here half-day!”[/SIZE]


[SIZE= 16px]Dr. D pulls a concealed pistol from his frilly sleeve and shoots Dwight through the left eye.[/SIZE]


[SIZE= 16px]“Haven’t. Imbecille. And yes. I told you, I am only here to pick up some henchmen. And you, my inbred friend, simply will not do. Now if only the knights could keep a proper schedule, I would not be so far behind on mine.”[/SIZE]


[SIZE= 16px]Without a backward glance, the not-so-good doctor strolled out into the hall. Two guards tried to grab him but spider like devices disguised as pins holding his epaulettes in place leapt onto their faces. Each guard fell to the floor screaming, sparks streaming out of their bodies seeking ground. For good measure the spiders began burrowing in. Momentarily the screaming stopped. Dr. D sniffed, unperturbed. Stepping over their bodies, he leaned against the frame of Roger’s door, waiting in a convincing replica of patience while Roger continued to rumble forward. [/SIZE]


[SIZE= 16px]“Hello Roger. May I call you Roger or do you prefer your ‘codename’ hm?”[/SIZE]


[SIZE= 16px]Roger stopped, puzzled. [/SIZE]


[SIZE= 16px]“I have a codename?”[/SIZE]


[SIZE= 16px]“Roger it is then. I understand you are seeking revenge on a great many individuals. I would propose that I assist you in this. You were apprehended in the attempt to rob the Horseshoe Casino some six years ago. I thought perhaps you would like a second crack at it, hm?”[/SIZE]


[SIZE= 16px]“Uh. Yeah. I was gonna knock of some ATM machines on the way, but, uh… yeah. ‘S on my list.”[/SIZE]


[SIZE= 16px]Dr. D grimaced at the redundant addition of ‘machine’, but suppressed the urge to kill him. He would do, for now. Most likely would not survive the heist in any case. He smiled winningly.[/SIZE]


[SIZE= 16px]“Excellent my friend. Then we are agreed! Let us go to the cassino post-haste, and commence your rain of terror! You can call me John.”[/SIZE]


[SIZE= 16px]He stepped forward and activated his teleportation device, and they were gone.[/SIZE]


[SIZE= 14px]●●●[/SIZE]


[SIZE= 16px]Appearing in the middle of the fountain in front of the Horseshoe Casino, the pair were not immediately noticed. The fountain was full of ice and snow, and Roger blended in perfectly. Dr. D stepped down into the valet parking area and surveyed the lobby. A few dozen people, mostly old folks on their way to the slot machines. No well heeled individuals, other than the doctor himself of course. The one valet was sleeping. Nobody of import was here. Nobody would suspect an attack on a casino at 11 in the morning. Unless of course they knew about the money truck arriving in two minutes.  There was a gala affair scheduled for the evening, and the house bank was stocking up. Dr. D smiled a wolfish smile and turned to his new henchman. [/SIZE]


[SIZE= 16px]“My dearest Roger. I was just considering the tactical approaches to the entrance to our target. Do you think perhaps you could lay down ice over this whole area to discourage approach by law enforcement? If you cause panic in the lobby, so much the better, hm? I will handle the alarms and the cameras.” [/SIZE][SIZE= 16px]He touched a button on his lapel.[/SIZE][SIZE= 16px] “Thusly!”[/SIZE][SIZE= 16px] [/SIZE]


[SIZE= 16px]All over the casino, security monitors sparked and died. The phones died. The slot machines vomited quarters onto the floor, unleashing utter mayhem among the old people inside. Then the lights died. The emergency lights came on, then died also. Screams carried faintly. The valet stirred.[/SIZE]


[SIZE= 16px]Roger grinned wickedly, or as close to a grin as a fissure in an ice floe could manage, and laughed. [/SIZE][SIZE= 16px]“You gots a deal Doc!” [/SIZE]


[SIZE= 16px]Oooh! Mismatch of subject and verb conjugation! Again the urge to murder the henchman on the spot arose, but he gamely suppressed it. He smiled weakly and activated the anti gravity soles of his wingtips, rocketing away toward the lobby. As he passed through the omega shaped opening to the lobby he tossed an incendiary device at the feet of the valet. Sleeping on duty! The doctor shakes his head sadly as the screams echo after him. What are the youth of America coming to nowadays?! Shiftless and lazy. And flammable, as it turns out. Tsk. Tsk.[/SIZE]


[SIZE= 16px]By the fountain, Roger rubs his hands together and then slaps them palms down into the ice of the fountain. The ice shatters, as does the fountain around it, and a spray of ice spreads out across the valet parking area, and across the valet, ending his screams. It continues to spread outward and across the street, down the street and into the intersection on the corner. Several cars go skidding through the red light and spin into a massive pile up. As the ice meets the front windows of the building they begin to pile up in layers. The glass quickly shatters inward and the metal framework that had supported it begins to buckle and groan.  The front of the building caves in and collapses blocking the main entrance and two of the emergency exits. The ice in the street continues to spread of its own accord as Roger stumps off to find another entrance. Within a minute, it has coated all the streets within two blocks, and several other buildings are structurally compromised. Numerous other cars crash, including two broken off fire hydrants which help to continue the spread of the ice.[/SIZE]



[SIZE= 16px]Inside the darkened casino, Dr. D has donned his spectacles which illuminate the scene with perfect clarity and even enhance it with a heads up display and IFF targeting system. Oddly enough everyone is identified as ‘foe.’ He makes short work of the rent-a-cops and is just about to start in on the old people when his tracking device pings that the van has arrived. He hesitates. Perhaps just one? No. Keep the schedule. The drones will be here soon, and they will need directions...[/SIZE]

 

[Meredith]

Ren Lee


/monthly_2016_08/large.57a8cfc1d4e30_Retrocognition-RenLee.jpg.9671f209eedccc60d32b312be4e00886.jpg





Location: The local park.


Company: Her younger (twin) brothers - Danny and Denzil.


Disposition: Relatively content.


OOC: Poor child.

Ren was, as chance had it, not particularly thrilled with the morning activity her mother had planned even before she has gotten out of bed.


She was meant to bring her brothers to the park.


Despite neither of the boys yet displaying any signs of super - well, anything, really - they still managed to be a handful and a half.


Oh, well. At least it wasn't quite as cold outside now as it had been earlier in the year.


Ren was tired.


Her brothers were yelling. Running about. Being annoying children.


At least Danny was cute. She was convinced Denzil had to be a demon. 


She had yelled, taking them out the door - and now she strode along behind them (grumpily), trying to keep up with the pair. Denzil was dragging his brother along by his arm, and the girl made a mental note to check for bruises later.


"Hey!" She sped up slightly, her brothers taking off at a run as they neared the park, infinitely regretting both her life decisions and reevaluating the amount of time she should be spending with the boys. "Slow down!"

Danny obliged, Denzil ignored, as always./monthly_2016_12/PARK.png.5f40941d51c5043bddf847e68eb485c9.png


Out of breath, Ren took in the park as she jogged. The trees were tall, mostly maples, surrounded by dirt paths and small puddles. It was in sharp contrast to the surrounding city. The tree cover was pleasant, she thought, just enough to give shade without making it cold.


Nearing the playground as the boys climbed over the divider into the woodchip base, she slowed, slipping onto one of the multiple benches.


Property damage, a bit of kissing, a couple, an angry child, a lot of tantrums, oh god was that a.. phallus? 


She wished that people would keep that out of public.


Hastily, she pulled her hand off of the bench, watching her brothers run about and giving the occasional yell to be careful, or more commonly, to stop dangling one another off of the monkey bars.


She envied them, she thought. Running about and swinging themselves off of the climbers without worries or fears.


Ren knew she would fall if she tried. Go blind with history while trying to play.


She had tried to play grounders with the boys, once, soon after she'd gotten her powers.


They had not asked her to again.


Hands white, they rested, clasped in her lap.

 

[ManicMuse]

 
​

​

 @: Nobody yet​

Location: Home > Heading to Facility 108
​

Mood: Oh shiz
​

A pair of over magnified, purple tinted eyes blinked behind a pair of magnifying spectacles. Flipping up the hinge on the workshop goggles, Gavin frowned. The wheels of his stool whined with protest, as he pushed off the desk, propelling himself across the garage. After a few taps of the keyboard, the violet pastel haired teen groaned smacked his forehead.


Giving a holler from his make-shift workshop shop, he paused, tapping at computer again. "MAAAAAM! Mommmmmm! Did Grandma send the package?"


There was nothing for a moment. Then came the rumbling stomps of Susan from across the house.


"Crap," Gavin hissed. Stomping was never a good sign.


A second later, the garage door leading to the house flew open. His mother, Susan, appeared in the doorway, with a brown package under one arm and a phone in other.


"Yea, I hear you, Dana but he is suppose to be focusing on his studies. I don't want him getting wrapped up in that world," she was clearly talking to his Grandma. All the while, glaring daggers at him. After a pointed finger of warning, Susan tossed the brown package at him. As it flew through the air, the six neon stickers labeling it FRAGILE seemed to blare warning, of the catastrophe that was about to ensue.


"Ma- Noooooo!"


Gavin, leapt off his stool and ran for the airborne package. Catching it mid-air, he gave a sigh of relief before inspecting it. This was it! The package he had been waiting for! Since his encounter with the Super students at Facility 108, Gavin had been working on many projects to help the various students, with powers both known and unknown.


Most importantly, Gavin had been working on one very special project. After meeting Victoria, Gavin was infatuated, to say the least. His new mission was to create a way to see those purple pools that are her eyes. After much research, he had finally reached out to his Grandmother for some ideas. Dana shipped him a laser for testing and had assisted in creating a prototype set of lenses. Rush job of course. Valentine's day was just around the corner, after all. 


Susan disappeared back into the house to continue her argument with Dana in peace, while her son carefully revealed the new lenses. After fitting them into the frames, he placed them in a clamp four inches from the laser.


Clapping his hands, feeling a bit like an evil genius, he flipped on the power switch. The power console gave a soft hum as the machine ran through its start up. A few flicks and beeps went off while the laser started to warm up. Gavin grabbed a safety screen and placed it in the path of the laser, to ensure if it failed, that the house would be safe.


After pulling on a pair of saftey glasses, he was ready. It was time to test out the glasses. His ticket to winning over the purple eyed goddess!


Gavin typed in the command.

    /startbeta1    
​

That was it. The humming increased before a bright green ray of light, a centimeter thick, came rocketing out of the nozzle and barreled up against the glasses. Gavin flinched, blinded by the bright lime green rays. After a moment of nothing bad happening, he lowered his arms.


"It..it's working? Holy cow! It works!"


Yes, he had this in the bag. Gavin had started his victory dance and bolted inside to tell him Mom.


"Mama! I did it! Tell Nana, I did it!"


Gavin had made it as far as the kitchen before finding his mom at the dining room table. Hopping from one foot to another, he tried to get his Mom's attention. Ecstatic and filled with pride, everything was turning up Dabbs.


"Ma, can I please tell Nana?"


Susan, rolled her eyes and handed over the phone.


"Nana, it worked!"


No sooner did he say the words, there was a popping noise from the garage. Phone still in hand, the spindly teen ran like the flash, back out to his workshop. The metal frames which housed the experimental frames, were bright red and clearly breaking down.


Realizing his mistake, time seemed to slow for the failed creator. Lunging for the kill switch, the overheated metal turned to goo, sending the lenses sliding down clamp. The green beam of light blasted forth, crashing into the protective screen.


Gavin had mere seconds before the power laser would blast through the screen. Mashing the keys, Gavin tried to type in the kill command.

                               /stop                                             
​

No, that was not it! Fuck!

                                       /betaend                                  
​

Dabbs! Focus!

                                         /endbeta1                               
​

The green ray of doom powers off. The overpowering hum starts to slow.


Realizing he had dropped the phone, he quickly retrieves it. Juggling it like a hot potato, he finally brings it to his ear.


"Nana, ummmm I am going to need to call you back. I think we need to order that other material for the frames..."


"Okay, darling! Remember there is no such fing as failure. J-nly solutions that we have not found yet! Chow darlin. Love you."   


"Ya, love you too."


Click-

"GAVIN AVERY DABBS, GET YOUR BUTT IN HERE NOW!"
​

That is when he sees it, a quarter size hole burnt perfectly through the shield. Little did he know, it had burnt through every wall in house and then some...


Grabbing his backpack and phone, Gavin quickly flung open the garage door and booked it. Heading for Facility 108, it seemed as good a place as any to hang low for a few hours.

 

[Zahzi]

Jordan Short-Tempered Brahn


Location: Brahn's Best Bakery.


Nearby: 


Morgan ( @welian )


Jennifer ( @Musician )


Jessica ( @Captain Hesperus )


Mary ( @ViAdvena )


Disposition: Oh look. I can keep annoying Morgan.


The doors behind the counter swung open as Jordan defied his brother's naively optimistic fantasy that he would just dwell in the back. The signature clacking of the metal limbs scurried about, keeping Jordan suspended in the air while he continued on the paperwork. Meanwhile, two limbs held a large tray in the air, and making a b-line for the display. The muffins were prepared for their inevitable consumption by these sugar-addicted sheep.


As of being in earshot of Mary's claim about Morgan's attire, he merely gave a smirk as he continued multitasking.


"Normally he wears a neon-pink apron with enough frills to make West Hollywood seem conservative. It also came with a garter belt, but he wore that out within the first week." he stated with enough of a casual vibe that he might have just been talking about the weather. He glanced up to look at the television, rolling his eyes at the broadcast. Old news at this point. Funny how the media never talks about the racist Knights like they do Supers.


Maybe he'd have some fun to correct that later..  


As the tray of muffins was emptied into the display, one of the limbs reached near Morgan to retrieve the remote to the television, changing it to some documentary about Fennec Foxes.


...


Fuck it, it stays.


Jordan looked over to Mary as she began listing her order. He looked back over at Morgan, who seemed lost in thought with the other customers so he decided to lend a hand. He might need Morgan's presence for something later, why not force a favor out of him.


He gathered the papers off the desk he had been suspended into the air with and placed them in a folder and put it on the counter near the coffeemaker. The desk slid out from in front of him as he faced the display with Mary's desired purchases. As he did so. the desk disassembled itself and followed his mechanical limbs into the backpack Jordan always carried. His mechanical limbs couldn't be used here, as they had a PSI of 'will tear the fucking things apart'. His mother had left a small stepladder for Jordan to get around the displays for just such an occasion, anyway.


After acquiring all of the aforementioned items, he walked back over to the counter, which now covered everything but the very top strands of his hair. He reached up and placed the bag full of Mary's selections onto the counter next to Morgan, pushing them to the center.


He stood there for a moment before trotting back over to the stepladder and dragging it over to the other register and climbed up to man it, ringing up the purchase.


"...Seven-thirty-two." he read off the screen.

 

[RemainingQuestions]

Luci Tolbert







Location: the park


Nearby: Girl on the bench(@Meredith)


Mood: Suprise, exercise makes you tired.


OOC:







Luci was, despite his powers, not naturally that much fitter than the regular humans were. After all that had happened the past few weeks, though, he had realised that being fit might actually be something to aim for. He thought back to Mister Mallory, the way he responded so clearly and calmly to such horrible things. Maybe, just maybe, he could have saved his sister if he had reacted like that in the Mall. Luci shook his head, most likely not, but it was a thought that would not leave his head. His feet continued to thump the ground, the cold hardly stinging.


He wanted to become better, so he had to know what his limits were first. He still had trouble controlling his powers sometimes, but he had more trouble knowing what his body could do. Of all the teachers at his normal school, the gym teacher actually liked him. So with his plan to maybe actually pursue a Blue Card in his head, he stepped up to him and asked him what kind of exercise would be best. After that, he seemed to like him even more, and Luci was glad for the ally he formed.


Luci shook his head to clear his mind again, and focused on his breathing, he was already out of breath, and he was hardly half-way. At least he wasn't cold, the combination of exercise and his powers made the thin workout shirt officially meant for summer perfect for this time of year for him. The downside of that was that was that his powers were very clear, but after running this loop every day after school and in the mornings on weekends Luci was finding it easier and easier to ignore them.


With a somewhat cleared head, Luci turned and jogged into the park. He knew exactly the bench he could take a break on. And stretch. But first a break.


As he had expected, there were some children playing in the park. Draco thought he was too old for playing in the park, but Luci can remember Narcissa taking him here. Damn, there his mind went again. Somehow, it was the littlest things that brought her to his mind these days. Some days, there was even nothing that made him think of her and Luci didn't know if those days were the best or the worst.


The first set of benches had several cold-looking adults on them, so Luci jogged onward to the other set of benches. Luckily there was only a girl sitting there, and without breaking his head about whether he was intruding or not, Luci sat down next to her. He took some large gulps of air, and he could feel his heart rate slowly settling. Finally with enough air in his lungs, something Luci had felt he was lacking for a long time, he turned his head to the other occupant on the bench.


"Hi." 

 

[DamagedGlasses]

Oliver McGenty


Location: Starts off at Oliver's Apartment; Ends at Park.


Nearby: Those two people meeting for the first time, it seems. ( @Meredith & @RemainingQuestions )


Mood: Calm. Curious. Taking a small break.


OOC: Well, I kept myself from writing too much. Let's start this off with something optimistic!


“There was so much more I wanted to do…”


Oliver opened his eyes and looked around his room, slowly removing his legs from the cross-legged position on the floor. His morning session of calm devotional had been broken by the first death of the morning. It sounded resigned, old, and weary. A death he could not have prevented. In a way, it was a blessing. Some mornings were filled with the sudden thoughts that ended, those that didn’t see it coming until it was too late. His power, however grateful he was for it, did not grant him the keys to keeping everyone safe. It had only made him more aware of every nook and cranny on the lock. Oliver shook his head, not to clear the thoughts away, but to put them somewhere else for now, allowing another part of his mind take the idle analogies into it’s embrace.


Still making his way out of his peaceful thoughts slowly and carefully, Oliver went to go make his breakfast for the morning. It was a Saturday, a free morning. Oliver had no classes at Hopkins for the day, and his plans to head to the Facility were not planned until later on. Oliver considered this as he watched a small ant crawl across his wall, most likely disregarding the framed picture his little sister had drawn for him as a parting gift when he moved to Baltimore. It was to be expected, from a small insect, but Oliver decided to call an exterminator later anyway. He couldn’t let the ant problem get to that point that his fellow tenants began to stress out, or his mornings would be quite noisy. Oliver opened his mouth to take a bite out of his morning toast.


“Oh God! She’s gone absolutely mental! Where the hell did she even get a gu-!?”


Oliver only paused but a moment as a the flicker of a gun entered his mind. A bright flash. A loud pop. Oliver chewed his toast with displeasure. The man sounded young. Male. His killer was a woman, presumably. If Oliver had more information, he would have given the police a call, but unfortunately, very few people think of their addresses when being murdered or robbed. It a handful of situations, the young man deserved it. In another handful, he didn’t. Oliver couldn’t do anything regardless, but he had spent his entire life making due with this. He couldn’t save everyone, it was impossible, but regardless of what cynics may believe, every little bit of good changes things. A kid rescued from abuse, a woman removed from a burning building, and a father found underneath a pile of rubble minutes before the team was going to give up, were all examples of how good can change the world.


“At long last, I can rest. I’m coming, Delilah.”


Oliver closed his eyes in remembrance for the content spirit moving beyond the mortal coil. Opening them, Oliver’s eyes were filled with the determination and drive that carried him through the good times and the bad times. It was Saturday, a free morning. He knew what he needed, no, wanted to do.


…Time Break...


Oliver stood at the edge of the pack of kids laughing and kicking up the cushioning wood chips of the playground he had found himself at. He had been wandering the town for a while with his power limited to serious stressful situations, and had been helping the best he could. Unfortunately, due to his lack of Blue Card, most of what he could do openly was limited to what the average samaritan would be able to do, but that didn't mean the lady he found getting manhandled didn’t leave safely after he had dealt with the two efficiently. They were beefy and dumb, but quick to anger. They truly were not privy to the effectiveness of a calm head in the middle of a fight.


Yet, due to his keeping the bar of his power up to somewhere up near the top, he had heard the sounds of kids running around with his ears faster than he had with his power. That was novel. As soon as he noticed the pack of kids though, none of them looking to be more than 11 or 10 years old, he had let his limiter plummet. It was instinctive, really, to allow his power free reign when it came to children. A habit picked up from years of being the best older brother, he could only assume. Still, it brought a smile to his face as he listened to the simplicity of the stresses of those this young.


“I’m IT! Oh no!”


“Where’s Mom? Where’s Mom!? Where’s M-Oh there she is.”


“Oh, please be careful.”


Hm? Not a child. Oliver looked around, wondering where that voice had come from. It was perfectly normal for adults to be worried about their kids, but this voice, mental voice at least, didn’t seem to be much older than the kids on the playground. Ah, there on the bench, looking like she was trying very hard not to mess something up. Responsibility at that age can certainly be a challenge, but he’s sure she’ll come through. Oliver doesn’t have the greatest read on people personality wise, but her thoughts sounded genuinely concerned, if a tad morose. Seeing she sat on a bench, Oliver realized that it was probably a good idea for him to get a quick rest too. He didn’t want to stay too long, reason being that he still had plenty of people in the city needing him to some extent, but he still had it in him to enjoy life’s simple pleasures of nature.


Taking a seat on a nearby bench, under a small tree he had come across, Oliver looked back over to the girl and noticed a fellow had walked over to her, sitting down beside her. He looked tired, if his gulping breaths of air weren’t evidence enough, but his thoughts were also telling, if a tad muddled.  Focused on exercise, looking for a break, and not really caring about the bench being taken by a girl. Exercise was probably not the intended stress people needed for Oliver to get a read of their thoughts, but that’s how his power worked. Oliver looked away from the two, allowing them to have their moment. There was no name drop from the boy’s thoughts, so they must not know each other. Oliver let his power turn up a few notches on the ole’ scaling and tuned out the thoughts of children. Meeting new people was stressful for most, and he didn’t need to get their petty troubles stuck in his head.


And yet, he’d keep it just low enough so that if something did happen that caused a big strike, well, he’d be the first responder.

 

[Lemon Boy]

KYLE KEYSOR


Location: Grocery Store 


Company:  Cecillia Pellegrini @Necessity4Fun & Mitch Castle @too much idea


OOC:  Such a popular little babu my sleeping baby is. 




The dreams of floating bread dancing through his mind was quickly put to an end as pieces of fusilli smacked him in the face, with one lucky one poking him in the eye. Yawning as he grumbled, Kyle had half the mind to just turn over and continue exploring the lands of dreams for there was always something to discover! Alas he found it inappropriate as he soon heard the voice of the girl who had tripped up over him, who seemed quite concerned for the sleepy boy who honestly just wanted to have some peace and quiet on this lovely and surprisingly clean store floor that was decorated with extravagant patterns of salted popcorn and fusilli. That and he was sure dad was going to drive his car straight through the store if he heard anything along the lines of "Your son passed out in the middle of a grocery store." 


Grumbling slightly, he rubbed his eyes into wakefulness and he assessed the situation. From what he could make out, there seemed to be what sounded like an Italian girl poking him and another girl asking if an accident had happened. Whilst he certainly did have dreams of being surrounded by women, this was not how he imagined it would turn out. Slowly sitting up, he looked around, remembering the fact that he had practically murdered a good quality packet of super salted popcorn. It was a tragic event and one he'd rather not recall truth be told, that popcorn had a family. Well, no, probably not, but still, he wanted to eat it at home whilst watching some shows on the computer. Now that chance was snatched anyway from him. Shaking his head a bit, he went back to the situation at hand...which was two people concerned for his status. That was nice. 


"Oh yeah, I'm uh...fine." He spoke groggily, yawning throughout the entirety of the spoken sentence. 


"Just thought that a quick nap was in order...is all, ya know?" They probably didn't because most other people were responsible enough with their sleep schedules. That and they could actually get to sleep. 


Pushing himself off the ground with some effort, he got up a bit shakily, stretching. Sleeping on solid floors wasn't the best things for your back. Dusting some pieces of popcorn off of his little hoodie, he leaned on his trolley, looking around at the rather empty grocery store that seemed to only be inhabited the three of the teens.......Now what? 


He decided to try to act like a normal, functioning member of society and start a conversation. Maybe at that rate, they won't call an ambulance or something because he certainly wasn't injured from sleeping on the smooth floor. He'd only need an ambulance if his dad caught wind of his son screwing up something as simple as shopping. 


"So uh...how's your day...how do ya do?" 


If one was keen on perception, they'd be able to notice that Kyle was an absolute failure at this "Normal, functioning member of society" thing. 


It wasn't his fault, he never got given any damn instructions to this game anyway. Certainly a 3.2/10....


Wait, what was he doing again? 

 

[Lemon Boy]

Urial Ursler


Location: Park


Company:  Next to a bench occupied by Ren Lee @Meredith & Luci Tolbert @RemainingQuestions. Close by to Oliver McGenty @DamagedGlasses


Mood:  Content


OOC:  The floof is here




Today was going to be and was a good day Urial was sure. He had been assigned the task of looking after a trio of triplets by his friend Heather, who was originally the one given the task, alas she had weaseled her way out of it by totally abusing her status. It involved immense guilt tripping that none other could match. "Oh but Urial you know my prosthetics chafe against my stump. I'll be in pain the entire day!~" 


Though this was true for those who were not accustomed to their prosthetics or had gotten ill-fitting ones, she had hers for five years now and she certainly never told him about any problems so It was practically confirmed she was an S rank liar. 


It wasn't that much of a problem, though, the tiny humans often took a liking to Urial as a result of his inhabitation of a dog's body and he wasn't going to complain if his presence made the tiny humans happier for meeting him. That and he himself had a certain affinity for looking after children, he did do Pediatrics for a while and the kids were always bundles of positivity & joy no matter what had befallen them. 


Now here he was in a fairly large park of great magnitude inhabited by children of all ages, mainly the younger audience though accompanied by their parental guardians or other relatives. Walking along the park with the trio of triplets in tow, whom were playing tag whilst spinning around him, he had initially found it rather disorientating to be circled by three lookalikes at the same time but he eventually got used to it. That and he need not to deal with it any longer as they reached the large playground, which had an even greater concentration of children playing on the likes of the Monkey bars or swings. The trio quickly halted their game, gasping in unison at the sight of the Park. All of them looked towards "Uncle Ursler" for confirmation and he nodded diligently.


"Remember, be nice and stay safe. Certainly. don't go wandering off on your own, That is how people are kidnapped you know. Then Uncle Ursler will have to fight the baddies off with his amazing golden arms to save you!~" 


With that his backpack suddenly popped open as a dozen of the arms burst out and flailed themselves in the air for a second, the trio giggling with delight before quickly running off to go and enjoy the wonders the playground had in store for them. Promptly zipping themselves back up before he gained too much attention, looking for somewhere to rest that gave him a good vision of all the children in the area. Finding a bench inhabited by two teens, possibly friends, he quietly wandered over and plopped himself down next to it, hoping not to disturb their conversation or whatever they were doing. 


For now, he was quite content on simply watching the kids have some fun and enjoy themselves at the Park. 


Though, in the back of the mind, he was awaiting the moment one loud enough child spotted him, the fluffy dog, and come charging over followed by an army of fellow tiny humans. That had yet to happen, but he was quite sure It was going to in the future. As long as they didn't injure himself, though, he had no problem with it.