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While he was thankful for the apparent lack of screaming or assaulting of his poor dislodged cranium. Ezra did feel like it should be somewhat odd that everyone present were all being rather chill with a talking head on the table. The one he had been talking a moment ago even propped him up!

Well isn't that nice of her.

She then twisted him to face the man across from her rather then talk. “Can you take this?”

That felt a tad rude. "Oh, okay then. " The man then started to ramble on about stuff Ezra had no context for and he instantly got lost. Not wanting to interrupt, he fell back on his default when he was lost. Ezra smiled and nodded politely. Careful not to knock himself over and potentially expose the cross section oh his neck to present company. That was about the moment when he heard someone behind him speak up.

"So, I don't believe I caught your names." Yes! A chance to cut into the conversation! Or it would have been if he suddenly hadn't been grabbed by the hair and lifted off the table. “Anyway. Seriously, are we going to do anything about Kevin or not because I’m about to toss him.”

His eyes glowing and sparking with his spike of frustration, Ezra grumbled before speaking up. "My name is Ezra, Not Kevin. And tossing me is rude!" He had almost forgotten that his hat had come off after being clotheslined by the powerline. With being held up by his hair, A clean seam that was stapled together could be seam running across his forehead and all the way around the scalp as is someone had sliced the top of his head clean off then put it back. That was around the time that his body rolled up to the table surprisingly casual . . . after having run into a nearby street sign the moment Ezra's head was snatched up. He had manipulated his wires and thread to wear his hat like a wireframe mannequin head and had pulled the hoodie on to have some semblance of a human head. Pedestrians either didn't want to get involved with whatever was going on or were just not paying enough attention.

"And here's the rest of me. Can be hard to pilot myself around hehehe." Nothing on his body looked damaged. Neither were there any signs of electrical burns from the power line. He held his hands out towards The woman holding him and made the grabby motion. "If you wouldn't mind, please and thank you." The frustration in his voice had melted instantly, Though his small burst had left a static charge in the air.

 
  • Lilian nodded, relieved to hear Chef Trang was still alive and cooking. She almost had the panel calibrated, but something didnt line up quite right. She stared at the device for a moment.

    “You seem like such a career woman, y’know?”

    Her stare turned towards the giant. Perhaps she was a career woman, the thought had never crossed her mind. What even was her career? Villain, terrorist, war hero..?

    “...certified MILF. “ Scourge started laughing.

    She kept staring; being able to change her appearance did make it easy to attract attention. “Being a mother is a career too,” she said plainly before standing up and circling the panel; there were two wires that were crossed. Kneeling down, she started to fix them as Scourge told her about his predecessors.

    Silently she listened, grabbing the human head as it rolled to her. Idly she used the SSFECLA to remove the top of the skull then scooped the brain out of the head.

    “My loyalty’s to you, Maxwell, and the Club. Hell, give the word, and I'll KILL him myself if he shows up again."

    Silently Lilian walked over to a nearby vat of green liquid, dropping the brain into it. “Kiran. Kirrran,” She rolled the R on her tongue, as if the word felt strange in her mouth. “Ill add him to the list.” Making her way to a freezer in the corner of the room, she opened the door and undid several latches releasing two metal cylinders.

    Carrying them over to the panel, she kicked it and the device began to glow with a pale blue light. “You’ll need a disguise.” One of the cylinders hissed as the top of it opened. It was filled with a translucent gel that Lilian shoved her hand into. As she pulled her hand out, her power shaped the gel into a long strand of kevlar winding out of the cylinder. Walking up to Scourge she began to weave it around his arm until it resembled a loose-fitting sleeve. She repeated the process for his other arm, then his body, until it resembled a suit coat with a dress shirt underneath. Using the other cylinder she made him a pair of kevlar slacks and then wrapped a kevlar scarf around his head so that only his eyes leered out.

    She admired her work for a moment, “Let’s see…” The last of the gel was used to create a bioplastic pair of sunglasses. Standing on her tiptoes she placed the glasses on his face. “Perfect!” She walked over to the device. “Now! These things were designed for someone my weight, they only work on up to ninety kilogram.” Her mouth split up into a grin, “So we’re sending half of you through first.”
 
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The blast doors opened to darkness, save a pair of gleaming yellow eyes. Electric blue flickered to life around the hulking form poised to pounce at the door as soon as there was a path. Muscles coiled. Eyes flashed brilliantly, and electric blue cracked the corners of her eyes, rippling down her neck, glowing under her skin beneath her sternum, and setting alight all the stripes on her upper body. Lightning flickered with barely restrained intent, crawling over her skin, though she seemed to hesitate at the cool, collected confidence of the Agent.


A Few Minutes Prior...​



"Ugh, who doesn't have Dotify on their device," rumbled Bubbles as she swiped an Agent's slate screen with purpose. She'd piled up the two stunned agents, and a third that had come around the corner at an unfortunate moment in the corner of the cell she'd been previously destined for.

Maybe you should focus for a minute?

"I've got you to watch my back... oh hey, Vicki Vortex is famous here too?"

I can only see what you see while Helene is unconscious, dummy...

"Oh relax, let me have a little fun," she snipped, rolling her eyes. "Wait. Vicki Vortex has powers?! Hang on, I have to read this article."

Uuuuuuuuggggggghhh!
BUBBZIEEEE~~
I don't wanna be heerrreee~

I'm bored!

"Quit pouting, I subdued everyone before they could react, so it's not like there's an alarm or a pending lockdown or anything," she chided, to which the slate promptly replied by flashing a big red pop-up:

SILENT ALARM - PRISONER CONTAINMENT BREACH - LOCKDOWN PENDING - RESPONSE TEAMS ENROUTE.

"...That could be anyone," she noted, flicking her amber eyes in the direction of Kindle's snickering.

SUBJECT IDENTIFIABLE AS A LARGE, BIPEDAL WHITE TIGER. POSSIBLE POWERSET INCLUDES MASTER/THINKER/BREAKER - HIGHLY DANGEROUS - BRUTE PROTOCOL ADVISED

"Well...," she huffed, staring at the notification for much too long. "I'll admit... I may have dawdled a little too long," she replied to Kindle's uncontrolled laughter. The slate *booped*, another pop up: Download complete - connect to device [FACILITY PA]? Bubbles chuffed as a wicked smile spread across her face. She tapped the slate intently a few times before tossing it aside, rolling her neck and shoulders, and cracking her knuckles noisily. A small ripple of static preceded the symphonic opening, and Bubbzie's voice resonating down the halls in perfect operatic caused a dozen or so pairs of feet to slide to a halt shy of the intersection.

She took a deep breath in a momentary lull, electricity sparking alight down her skin as she lunged into the hallway and roared to the music as the beat dropped. Her voice was as crashing thunder, and it tore through the confined, reinforced corridors of the underground SINS facility like a hurricane, ripping up floor tiles, shattering screens and lights, and scattering Agents like so many rag dolls. A few surprised gunshots peppered the walls, but her voice formed a near impenetrable wall of [Force] as she advanced with a purpose. She darted behind a cubicle wall to take a breath as she emerged into an office area during the guitar interlude.

"SOMEONE TURN OFF THAT INFERNAL RACKET!!"

"I'll have you know: this a tragic ballad about the existential dread of drifting into eternity while everything you know and love fades to nothingness, you uncultured swine!" She called over the noise, and crawled swiftly along the aisles as a handful of bursts turned cubicle walls into stuffing. Bubbles wrinkled her nose: chemical rounds. At least they weren't trying to kill her yet, though she couldn't help the boil of a̴͕͒͌ṋ̴̖̀͠g̴͔̱̒e̷̘̝̾r̶̞̿ ̶̙̆̿a̷̼̅͒n̵̞͋̚d̸͉̣̉̈ ̶͎͖͠r̵̮͘ḙ̷͎̑s̶̬̐̀ͅè̷͈̥̓n̶̞͌̎t̶͖͒͐m̸̟̖̈́́e̵̳̹̅̀ṇ̸̍͒t̸̝͗ roiling in her gut.

Myeees, so beautiful. You know, my Nanna used to sing this to me every night before bed...

"Hush," Bubbles whispered curtly. Electricity flared as she rounded a corner and flanked a formation of responders, slamming one into the corridor wall. He convulsed as her talons pierced his body armor, and she dragged him along the wall as she lunged into their flank, sending their electrified companion hurtling into the formation. She snorted in contempt as she continued up the corridor, but only made it a handful of steps before she had to shield her eyes from a sudden blinding light. The lightning writhed around her, intercepting and deflecting the majority of a barrage of chemical laden bullets. The intensity of the lightning waned under the sustained fire as she stumbled backwards and with a CRACK of discharge her voltaic armor failed. She staggered to her knees as her body was peppered.

"HOLD!" Someone called when she stopped moving. Her breathing was ragged and heavy as the responders began to cautiously advance. The chemicals burned through her veins, coiling around that core of suppressed s̴̮̕p̵̪̲̉ï̸͙̇t̶̲͗̋͜e̶̥͙͑ and h̸̡̛̙͙̒̒̓ă̶̤͑ț̵̞̿͋͝r̴͖̝̥̤͠e̴̮̘̍d̴̫͉͊̇̇͆. The glass tube, the needles... the constant burning of chemicals, and mutagens in her chest. Her insides burned. Her hands shook.

BUBBZIE?!?! Ooooohh~ hold it together hon-
C'mon Bubbzie-chan, I'm right here with you It's okay, go to your happy place~

"Ñ̸̛͔̦̪̖̭͓̺͕̣͐̀́͛̈́̈́̕̕̕ő̸̖̰͉̩̻̯̳̬̹͔̥̒͆̓͛̒," seethed the tiger. Kindle fretted nervously in the void for a moment. Her breath quickened...

Oooh nononononononono~

"RUN!!!" Kindle shrieked through the Tiger's mouth, having wrested control for the smallest moment. The responders froze. The Tiger was on her feet. The lightning core in her chest flared to life, splintering her skin into shards of molten light. Coils of electricity writhed along the floor and walls. Kindle tried to yell again, though the Tiger was already drawing breath. She planted her feet and screamed. The reinforced concrete walls cracked as the shockwave violently hurled the responders back through a blast door, which the team on the other side hurriedly slammed shut. They collectively staggered back as something heavy crashed into the other side, and tendrils of electricity reached out hungrily for anyone who stood too close. The beast's screaming reverberated through the walls for several minutes before it seemed to subside.

A while later, Peter opened the blast door to deep claw gouges running the length of the walls, and electrical scorches and pockmarks on nearly every surface. It looked as though the beast might lunge, though the lightning flickered out and she staggered to her feet instead, almost seeming to wilt down to the form of a slender woman with luminous silver eyes. She shook herself vigorously and ran her fingers through her split-color hair, revealing a pair of fox's ears. A bushy tail swished behind her... or was it several tails? She heaved a belabored sigh, flopping tiredly onto a filing cabinet that had been upended as she regarded Peter and his entourage with interest. She produced a jade and bronze kiseru from a sleeve, which she lit with a snap of her fingers and a spark of blue flames. The woman barely flinched at the next new arrival, sliding to a halt in a flash of pink light. She turned her unamused silver eyes on the woman for only a moment before flicking them back to Peter, who'd taken a seat in front of her.

"So, you're the troublemaker huh? How's about you and I have a little chat. Because I dunno about you, but I'm REALLY curious to learn a bit more about you."

"Finally. Someone reasonable," she muttered, exhaling an aromatic cloud. "I'm gonna need a minute... this was... a lot," she sighed, gesturing to... well everything.
 


  • US Bank Tower, Los Angeles, California: March 20th, 2045, 7:45am

    Peter regarded the Kitsune like entity quietly, taking her kiseru usage as unspoken permission as he produced a packet of cigarettes and a lighter.

    "Oh sure, sure, take all the time you like, I'm in no rush." He grinned as he lit the cigarette now in hand. "As for reasonable, you seem like a..." Peter gazed at the shredded up room around him, bits of shattered tile and dust sprinkling onto the grey shoulder of his suit jacket. He brushed it off thoughtlessly before continuing. "A reasonable person as well. I mean, let's be honest, bureaucracy is its own kind of madness. All these suits running around trying to capture you, all 'following orders', no regard or consideration that they might be making the WRONG decisions."

    He shrugged and shook his head in exasperation. "I mean, they don't exactly pay me to be flexible or unorthodox... But they certainly haven't been able to stop me." Peter's eyes lingered around the room, then on the woman before him again. His narrowed eyes were curious, analytical, like a pair of scalpels carefully incising into a person's soul.

    "I don't know much about you... But I know more than upper brass thinks I do. The timing of your appearance in Atlas City, then again in Washington, it's all very fortuitous. Unless it's not, of course."

    His curiosity melted into something more akin to amusement. "I can guess at what upper brass has intended for you. If you want my expert opinion, which I think very highly of, I think it's a crime to keep you locked away. After all, what's the point of powers and gifts like these if you can't even use them!" He chuckled to himself as he dabbed some ash off the end of his cigarette.

    __________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
    The guard standing outside the ballast door was reaching a mental and emotional breaking point. Wasn't enough to watch that THING tear through them like a hurricane with shards of glass in it, now he had to sift through the hierarchical mess of who was supposed to be doing what, when, where, and why?

    "Alright, alright, just settle down for a sec folks. I'm Agent Clarke, and I'm handling the... Door situation right now. Before anyone else goes through, I'm gonna need to know who in the chain of command is sending you all over here? Firstly..."

    He looked towards the blonde who'd come in with a streak of light. "I've NEVER seen you before. Who are you, and who gave you permission to be here?"

    Then he turned to the Sybil Sisters. "Secondly, who gave you all permission to be here? We've been to busy dealing with the situation on the other side of this door to get any info from the Director. I haven't even heard from Jamie yet."

    Before Agent Clarke got an answer from either, someone else entered the room, walking briskly towards the ballast, face reddened, eyes filled with rage.

    "Clarke! Get the door open NOW! I want that thing contained yesterday!"

    Clarke fidgeted awkwardly. "Uhh, Agent Moore, sorry but ah... Agent Radovan went inside already."

    "In case your forgot Clarke, he's not even supposed to be here. He's MY responsibility. He doesn't boss you around, and as far as you're concerned right now, I DO."

    "I... Understand sir, but the Director..."

    "Is in full support of me handling the situation. I don't need you or Radovan screwing this up."

    "No sir... I meant Doug..."


    Moore came to a halt next to the Sybil Sisters and Avery, readjusting his glasses and letting out an exasperated sigh. "The 'special connection' between the DNI and Peter Radovan is irrelevant to me. This building, and the agents in it, are MY responsibility. Their lives, their safety, is mine to protect. So Clarke - Open the door."

    He turned to face the new girl next to him, looking her over for a quick moment before recognition finally kicked in. "Ahh, you must be Avery. Welcome to SINS. I guess you can consider today to be orientation day." He sighed again as he looked back at the ballast door.

    "Not really worth reconsidering your options by the by. We're not really taking no for an answer. However, if you don't cause me any grief, you'll be an agent under me. Let me assure you, that's preferable over working for a man like..." He glared towards the unseen figure he knew laid beyond that door.

    __________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

    Peter frowned as he browsed some notifications on his phone, before switching to another screen on it and rapidly punching something in.

    "Seems that the Killjoys have arrived. Gonna have to try to keep them preoccupied with that door... Don't you fret though friend, we've got a few moments to chat at least."
 
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“Oop, that’s my cue!” Nina announced cheerfully, turning on the ball of her foot, blonde ringlets twirling like a cape around her shoulders. Her polished black shoes clacked lightly against the stone floor of the facility as she bounced back over to the ballast door. “Take all the time you like, boss!” she called over her shoulder, giving the trio a little wave as she positioned herself to be the first thing anyone would see when the door began to open.

Hudson glowered at her fellow agent, stepping closer to the fox woman and further from Nina while pulling her helmet over her head.
 

US Bank Tower, Los Angeles, California: March 20th, 2045, 7:45am

Avery's still not sure what the hell is going on here, but she's here to help. Curiosity already got the better of the cat, she just hopes it won't kill it. Or will. She needs to think about it later.

What does become readily apparent is the odd environment she finds herself in. People in tactical gear and several girls who seem sort of out-of-place compared to the SWAT team surrounding them all. One stared at the door with vague sense of focus and, if the pops of faint red light in her vision were to be trusted, she gathers she's prying the door open with her powers. Avery quickly swallows a wave of nervousness; the idea of telekinesis or telepahtic powers sort of scares her. Maybe not scared: intimidates. Maybe it's just because her powers requires some sort of physical exertion so the idea that someone can just pick her up and toss her aside like a ragdoll is... concerning, to say the least. She shakes it off for now. She's clearly on the side(?) of... this girl. She thinks. For now, maybe.

At least someone turns to acknowledge her. Avery waved away the bow with a dismissing hand, suddenly becoming aware that she was still in the clothes he was arrested in several days prior. Flannel, white shirt, jeans, Converse. While not one much for presentation, she hopes she was at least not smelly.

At the very least, they're the only two so far who aren't in either tactical gear or suits here. She inclines towards liking them for that fact.

“Greetings, are you also responding to the breach?” Breach?!
"Yeah." Sure, why not? She's already here.

Another one makes a comment aloud about her presence to another without directly acknowledging Avery (something which under normal circumstances would irk her, but at present there's bigger fish to fry). What does irk her is the other dude - Agent Whatever (Agent...? She thinks briefly back to the two guys who seemed to crawl out of Men in Black to drive her to L.A., Tall and Short, who she left hanging on the first floor; were they really agents?).

"I'm in charge here blah blah blah". Avery rolled her eyes, but before she could say some kind of smartass comment in retaliation the sharp sound of heels against the hard floor reverberates around the room and Agent Bitch is getting chewed out by some other guy who appears to be his superior. His tone and attitude commands a kind of respect that makes Avery pause mid-way through rolling up her sleeves.

"Ahh, you must be Avery. Welcome to SINS. I guess you can consider today to be orientation day."

... What?

He turns away before she could fully process what he means. The vague pieces are laid out in front of her concerning her abrupt transfer from SF to LA, but instead of putting one and one together she's just turning them both in her mind. Her brows furrow, face etched with confusion.

The man turns, eyeing the door with a sort of serious determination that Avery would find admirable if 90% of her emotional interface wasn't taken up by question marks.

"Not really worth reconsidering your options by the by. We're not really taking no for an answer." Well. There's her answer, she supposes.

"However, if you don't cause me any grief, you'll be an agent under me. Let me assure you, that's preferable over working for a man like..." His jaw sets, icy glare pointing through the door. Avery's eyes take turns looking at him, then the door.

She doesn't really have much to say to him yet. She'll save her questions for the quiet aftermath of whatever's to come. She resumes rolling up her sleeves.

Interactions Sepokku Sepokku | Lord Saethos Lord Saethos
 



















Yukisa
















"Ah I see. So she's feeling it out so to speak." Yukisa notes while flashing her eyes to Vic briefly.

"Perhaps it would be better if you joined in on his team? It is ultimately up to you though. But by what I've been hearing, I think it would be fun." She pauses for a moment before she affixes her eyes to Richard.

"I'd even be up for joining in on some of this action." Perhaps Richard would catch her drift, she wants to know what hero agency he's working for, as a possible direction for her near future heroing activities.

“And to answer that, Richard…” She pauses, thinking of what to call herself...

“You can refer to me as Chizuki…” She used a shortened version of her family name, Mochizuki, simply because she has just met these people, and by the looks of it, Vic might possibly have a criminal influence. She wouldn’t want to give her information away to the wrong person. She didn’t have any problems with Richard though. From the information she’s picked up, it appears he may even be similar to her. Her interest was definitely piqued by that knowledge.

She ponders for a moment on how she should go about explaining herself. “And what am I doing here? Well I do live here… and work here.”

She points over to her bag, "If you are wondering why that is so full, it’s because I was visiting relatives in Japan. I’ve just gotten back today, and I prefer to not check bags. I like to know my items are safe with me at all times."

She then stretches herself over the back of her chair to her pen on her table and grabs it while still being seated, showcasing some flexibility. "I had to retrieve my pen from my relatives because the previous time I visited, I left it accidentally…. Hectic workplace phone calls am I right? Had to fly back immediately after that call."

Yukisa brings her pen up to eye level to admire it closely. "It’s a very antique pen. I spent a great deal of effort to get my hands on it. I believe Mark Twain even used it a few times. Incredibly rare piece of stationery that I behold right here. And to think I couldn’t use it for four whole months… I of course have other pens, but this one by far is my favorite." A genuine emotion finally appears onto her face, a little pout. One can tell that she really loves antique pens.

Yukisa snaps out of her pen induced trance and tucks her pen behind her ear once the bodiless head introduces himself as Ezra. "...And tossing me is rude!"

Yukisa examines Ezra’s head, noting the stitched up seam. That made him look very Frankenstein-esque. "Yes I agree, tossing him would indeed be rude. Just be patient while the rest of him catches u-" Nearing the end of her sentence, the body of Ezra appears at their table and grapples at his head.

“Oh, there it is. That’s quite the ability you have there, Ezra.” Yukisa yet again, didn’t seem too shocked about Ezra’s head being detached from his body. Rather, she was just staring at it for a few seconds, wondering how it worked. When she is transformed she can also technically remove her head from her body, but the disposed body just becomes an inanimate form of whatever substance she was, then she has to grow the rest of herself back as long as her head doesn’t get sliced in half. She’s figured out that she can’t reshape her head into anything, so it’s her weak point. She wonders what Ezras weak point would be, only so that information can be utilized later if it comes down to it, not that Yukisa would want it to. Ezra seems like a well meaning guy.











































♡coded by uxie♡
 
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US Bank Tower: March 20th, 2045


Jamie’s voice came back perplexed, “She’s a transfer… I think.”

As agent Moore waltzed into the room, Cadence could barely contain herself; finally they got to flaunt their legitimacy. She doubled their efforts to overwhelm the ballast lock, the creak of metal reacting to overwhelming stress began to fill the room. “You heard the man. Open the door before I rip it out of the wall.”

Emiri watched Avery carefully, there was more than a hint of confusion on the newcomer's face. With a smile she explained, “I’m Emiri and these are my sisters. Since you’re new, I’ll answer any questions you have, but a bit later. For now, do you mind if I initiate a Mental Handshake?”

Sophia stared at the space past the door in front of them. “They’re expecting us, one of them is guarding the door.” Several guns began to float out of the bag Danielle carried, the slides cocked back as they chambered a round.

The door let out another grunt of protest, “Last chance before I open it myself.” Cadence gave Clark a sarcastic smile. He moved to open the door and she held out her hand, “On my signal.” She turned towards Agent Moore, “Permission to lift Protocol Three until such time as the breach is contained?”

Without a moment’s hesitation Moore growled out, “Granted. Protocol One as well.”

Sybil softly touched Nina’s, Peter’s, Hudson’s, and the escapee’s minds. She let out a laugh that chimed like a bell, and then Sybil was standing next to Peter, her hand on his back. “Who’s this,” The index finger of her other hand pointed accusingly at the escapee. “Are you cheating on me Pete?”

Eyes opened on the walls and ceiling, their bloodshot pupils stared at Peter, voices too quiet to hear echoed throughout the room. The door was open, Like Peter had never closed it. The five sisters strode in shoulder to shoulder, Avery and Agent Moore right behind them.

“You know better than that Peter. If you act up you’ll get grounded.” An image of a grave flashed through his head, the tombstone read ‘Agent Radovan, he tried.’ Sybil’s voice was a low purr in his ear, “Let’s make things copacetic before we all get in trouble.”

Avery, Moore, and the five sisters circled Peter, equidistant from him and each other; they all had weapons drawn. The voices in the room grew slightly louder until they were barely audible. “.reteP Peter. Pete. Radovan..navodaR” A boy’s voice sounded. It came with the oddest sensation of nostalgia and guilt, “Back at it again Peter?”

On the other side of the still closed door, Cadence gave the signal, “Open it on the count of three.” Layers of force draped themselves around Avery, Moore, and the sisters, creating impromptu cover. “One, two, three.”

Clark opened the door.
 
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Atlas City, North Carolina: March 20th, 2045, early morning.

“You’ll need a disguise.”

“WELL, that’s gonna be a problem,” Scourge started as Lilian tinkered with the gel. “Ya see, I gave Vortex my good coat, and nothing else fits-” He shut his mouth the instant Lilian dressed him up, limb by limb. His eyes turned into big yellow ‘O’s, and so would his lips… if he had any. He looked over one arm, then another, then tugged at his scarf. “Now that’s groovy,” he thought aloud, his voice trailed into a purr.

“Now! These things were designed for someone my weight, they only work on up to ninety kilogram.”

It was only then that Scourge’s attention turned towards what Lilian was working on.

“So we’re sending half of you through first.”

“Wait. WHAT?!

The colour dimmed from Scourge’s face. He looked up and down the panels of unfamiliar technology, and despite two seconds of hesitance, followed after her. “Uh… three questions, Doc,” he began, his voice more subdued than his usual. “Where am I goin’, who am I killin’, and…” He peered over his sunglasses, bracing himself. ”Is this gonna hurt?”
 
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» Vicki Vortex

"You're making me blush," Vic murmured under her breath as Richard complimented her. Oh, she knew she played well. She had two Grammys telling her she was pretty good at playing well. Just not with her powers, and definitely not in Richard's super gang!

She then spent a little too long learning a little too much about a pen against her will before she YANKED the conversation back to the head on the table. Consequently scolded, she just held her tongue until Ezra's body was right in front of her, then despite the party disapproval she tossed the head. Right into his grabby hands.

She slumped back after. "Mmhm..." she hummed in agreement with Richard, almost yawning, as she phased out. The buskers nearby had stopped their strumming about the time Ezra's head had fallen onto the scene. She watched them packing up their things and eyeing them up warily. Then the drummer's eyes locked with hers. Vic expression fell blank, zoning out of whatever conversation (probably) about stationary that was happening around her. The buskers were exchanging murmurs - it felt pointed at her, their chins, their feet, their elbows, all gesturing in that secretive way to not attract attention - that all came ahead to the flash of the drummer's phone camera. Vic blinked. It was practically undetectable, all the way on the other side of the street, but it felt like she'd just been flash-banged.

"Right," she spoke up upon coming out of her dissociative daze. She swiveled off the table. "The music's going. That means I am. There's always something wicked playing in LA and I've got to find it." Too many things were freaking her out here. Richard's extracurricular activities, the camera, the dry conversation that stopped entertaining her five minutes ago. She slipped out a pair of pink-gradient heart sunglasses from her inner trenchcoat pocket and whipped them on, before tilting her head back to Ezra. "You gonna stick with these nerds?"
code by @Nano
 
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Ezra was delighted to have his head/body back. He didn't mind that Vic had tossed his head into his hands, the main worry was her just throwing him into the street or in the garbage. The wireframe keeping his hood up quickly retracted and gave him access to his body's half of the neck. Once the two neck sections met, thread and wire sprung from the edges and quickly stitched him back together in seconds. An arc of electricity ran across the stitch and seam, seemingly causing it to disappear. Leaving a unmarred neck for everyone to see. "Ah, that's so much better!" He chirped happily mostly to himself.

That was the moment Richard spoke up. "Gotta be honest Ezra, I feel like you're gonna need to explain... All of this to me at some point." Chizuki Chimed in as well."-That’s quite the ability you have there, Ezra.”
Not seeing the harm in it, Ezra decided to be honest. "Oh that's an easy one, I'm a walking corpse." He said like it was the most obvious thing on the planet while putting his hat back on. "I was dead, and now I'm not. Don't know or really care who I used to be though. I'm just me." He lifted his hands up close together and let electricity arc between them for a bit. "There are a few other little things but that would be telling wouldn't it?" He winked playfully before shoving his hands into his pockets.

"You gonna stick with these nerds?" Vic spoke up, seeming eager to leave.

Come to think of it he was growing increasingly bored himself. He shook his head. "I mean not really? Wasn't really intending to be here in the first place. no offence." Ezra mimicked Vic's gesture and tilted his head back at her. "Want me to tag along? I got nothing important to do anytime soon." Truth be told he was just happy to be interacting with people and have it feel so natural. His usual company not being the most personable didn't set the bar high though.

Somewhere a recently reclusive tinker probably sneezed in annoyance.

 
The ballast door groaned as something pushed against it. There was a brief flicker in her mind, a presence making itself known, and a moment later eyes flickered open all over the walls and ceiling. Hudson sighed, drawing her Smith & Wesson and letting it hang at her side. That dumb bastard really was just gonna try to kill them all off right here. What was this, one of the agency’s other pets making their presence known?

“Radovan?” She looked toward their nonplussed handler, her tone carrying a hint of urgency. “I don’t think they’re gonna be patient with us, here.”

The door was open, and a litter of identical women came waltzing inside, followed by Moore and another agent Hudson didn’t recognize. Was that Miss Eyes? Wait, the- no, Peter had left it open, hadn’t he? Hudson glanced over at it, confirming for herself it hadn’t been closed. Why was Nina standing over there, staring into the previous room? Wait, why was Hudson even bothering to wonder about that? The girl was as big a whackadoodle as their handler. She would probably say she was, like, “gauging the acoustics” or whatever.

Hudson turned her attention back toward the matter at hand. The newcomers were pacing in a circle around Radovan, eyes fixed on him for some reason. Almost as though they were treating him as the escapee, and not-

Where was the fox?



Nina looked over her shoulder at the circus playing out behind her. Absolutely no chance the Boss was gonna fall for any of this - no doubt he was gonna start laughing his head off at any- yep, there he goes. Poor Hudson, though. Poor girl was gone. You’d think that hunk of dead gray matter in her skull would be harder to crack into. Oh well. Seriously, how hard was it to see through any of this? Didn’t she have any training at all in critical scenario analysis for purposes of psycho-sensational reassessment? It was almost like SINS paid absolutely no mind to the threat of psychic or illusory assault. Like, there wasn’t even any air flow coming from the previous room. Obviously the door wasn’t actually open!

Not to mention, did Hudson just completely forget why Nina came to stand over here in the first place? Was her short term memory really that bad? Nina thought your life was supposed to flash before your eyes when you died. Shouldn’t Hudson have like a photographic memory, then? Geez!

Oh, there was the change in air flow.

“Hi guys!” Nina greeted brightly, leaning over to show her face through the crack of the door the moment it started to form. “How’s it going? Did you guys all come to help us out? That’s so sweet!” The agents standing around Sybil hesitated, their guns lowering slightly. The door’s slow movement halted, leaving just enough space for Nina to slip through.

“Agent Moore, right?” she asked, extending a hand to the senior agent. He took it, his shoulders relaxing slightly. A pleasant smile slowly started twitching at the corners of his mouth - hardly a surprise! After all, people just couldn’t help but like Nina. Her voice had such a soothing quality to it. It just made people happy to listen to it. “It’s been a minute, huh! I thought you were taking over operations in Atlas City! What’re you doing in L.A? Higher ups yanking your chain?”
 
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  • The corner of Lilian’s mouth quirked up into a smile as she listened to Scourge’s three questions. “You didn’t strike me as the nervous type.” Walking to her desk, she opened a different drawer and grabbed a new outfit out of the pile of folded clothes. Taking off the labcoat, she put a light grey pantsuit over her blouse and shorts.

    “Until we’re back in Atlas, call me Emma.” She counted off his questions as she answered them, “First, We’re going to pay some employees of mine a quick visit. Second, with any luck you won’t need to kill anyone. Third, it’ll hurt. Unless you want me to temporarily disable your pain receptors?”

    Without waiting for a response, her left hand shifted away from her wrist until the SSFECLA’s emitter was exposed and her gait carried her to the bioweapon. Moving the coat out of the way, a beet-colored beam hit Scourge’s midsection and then flared into a bright pink, the beam bisecting him across the stomach. “And as long as you’re calling me Emma, your name is Brutus, and you’ve been my bodyguard for the past seven years.” With a shove, the bottom half of Scourge fell onto the panel and it started blinking slowly.

    Lilian grabbed Scourge’s torso in an attempt to hold him up, but the giant’s top half weighed at least as much as her entire body and she fell backward awkwardly, landing on her butt. As she lay there, her features rearranged and she made herself look like the person she’d replaced years ago.
 
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Atlas City, North Carolina: March 20th, 2045, early morning.

“WAAAAAAAAA-”

Scourge belted out a scream as his bottom half disappeared behind him, a scream that echoed through the dark edges of the lab.

“-AAAAAAAAAAA-”

A scream that continued until his form was whisked away in a flash.



Skidrow, California: March 20th, 2045, morning.

“-AAAAGH…”

Scourge found himself in an unfamiliar room, where his scream trailed off into its ending. His eyes darted behind the shades, and he was left speechless as Lilian reassembled him.

“I’ve gotta say I never expected myself to bring a guy to a cheap motel in LA while Emma’s parents watched my daughter.”

Life-like pink coloured his undead cheeks. Scourge cleared his throat, looked at the face she wore, and his brows creased in thought. “Emma, huh?" He mumbled, mostly to himself. There was history to her words. A history to explore another day.

The big green zombie stretched, twisted side to side, and massaged the base of his spine whilst Lilian prepared herself. He peeked out through the door, and his eyes narrowed with a smirk at Lilian’s next words.

“Ready to go, Brutus? There’s a pair of clock-themed idiots that need reprimanding. Trackers in their suits say they’re not far from LAX.”

A low, deep chuckle rumbled Scourge’s shoulders. He smacked his right fist onto his left palm, and bellowed, “RIGHT behind you, DO-... Emma.” He followed after her, taking in the sights and sounds of a new city. A city of worn concrete and wrinkled tents, its streets overflowing with trash and idle spirits. The air was thick with the smell of shit and piss and suffering. Rats skittered into alleyways, between walls blasted with colours and words, full of sound and pride and fury, but no hope. Scourge's gaze was cast low, between wrinkled brows. “What a pitiable place,” he murmured, staying close to watch Lilian's back.
 
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Kindle's gleaming silver eyes flicked towards the helmeted woman as she stepped closer, though she didn't seem concerned, just taking note. Her ears flicked with interest towards Peter as he spoke and she drew on the kiseru lazily, cupping her chin with one hand as her golden tails swished gently. She gently puffed an aromatic cloud of smoke towards Hudson which took the shape of a heart as it traveled. It was speared by a cartoonish arrow a moment later and broken into dozens of smaller hearts. Her lips twisted into a sly grin as she focused her amused gaze back onto the Agent. This man was clearly a snake: it oozed out of every pore... a snake with an obvious agenda, but a snake nonetheless. Agendas could be useful, however... and what better way to get at the information that Helene was so keen to chase than from a clandestine organization! Helene wouldn't mind... Probably. Kindle suppressed a snicker.

She had been drawing breath to reply when the soft touch of an outside mind caused her to suddenly sit upright. She nearly choked on smoke, and managed to only splutter and cough gracelessly for a moment or two as her eyes were drawn to the "open" door and the "Agent accompanied by the cadre of women." She watched for a moment before a wry grin curled the corners of her lips.

"Curiouser and curiouser...," she giggled quietly, drawing on the Kiseru. She exhaled slowly, resting her cheek back in her hand and crossing her legs idly as she reached up and *plucked* the psychic connection like a string. A scarcely noticeable wisp of blue FoxFire raced along the thread back to its source, and ran the length of connections, illuminating the people on the other side through the wall for a moment. Her lips pursed in a little 'O' of amusement. Was this a two-way connection??

Oh... you don't even realize how much trouble you're in do you, little ones?

Kindle chased the thought with an eerie giggle that echoed through the mindspace as she turned her eyes back towards the Blonde one who was crawling through the slowly expanding gap in the door. She made eye contact with Peter and held his gaze for a long moment. A wide smile spread across her face, exposing her fanged canines: He had a plan, and though no words were exchanged, she seemed to know what her role in it was. Kindle's gaze flicked back through the door towards the sisters for a moment.

The Fox drew on the kiseru, and exhaled not smoke, but FoxFire along the psychic thread and burned the connection with just enough heat to sever it. Some feedback was to be expected, though not enough to inflict true injuries on anyone. The smoke that had been pooling about the floor rushed towards her, and with an amused laugh that echoed throughout the facility she dissolved into it, leaving naught but a small pile of tobacco ashes where she'd been sitting.
 
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  • US Bank Tower, Los Angeles, California: March 20th, 2045, 7:50am

    Moore grimaced as they began connecting to the minds that laid within the room, concerned for what lay within, in particular Agent Radovan. He'd definitely have some complaints about the 'breach of his consent', but as far as Moore was concerned, Peter should have been thrown in Gitmo years ago.

    __________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
    Peter felt a hand land on his shoulder, and soft words enter his ears.

    He snickered slightly to himself before placing his hand against hers. "Calm yourself, Sibyl, jealousy doesn't suit you. Besides, there's one too many women out there falsely claiming to be a wife as it is, wouldn't do to have five more saying the same."

    The room changed, and around them there were now walls of eyes, with whispers echoing through the room. He heard Agent Hudson say something in the distance, but the only response he gave her was to subtly raise his hand in her direction, a gesture to let her know to remain calm.

    Behind him, the door 'opened', and he was now surrounded by the sisters, Agent Moore, and some new girl.

    Sybil spoke again about him being grounded, as images of a grave flashed in his mind, and the sound of a young boy's voice.

    Peter began to chuckle softly, as a new image, one of his own memory entered his mind. It was a young boy, one with a gunshot wound to his head.

    It was a drive by shooting, part of a gang conflict that the poor kid had been an innocent bystander in.

    But the boy being shot in the head wasn't necessarily remarkable.

    What was remarkable was that the boy survived.

    During the chaos, the Kitsune had seemingly vanished, leaving a pile of ash behind.

    "Wondeful, you've all really done a bang up job this time.

    Peter took another drag on his cigarette, as his back immediately straightened, hands gripped onto the back of the seat, and he stood. The agent gingerly walked around the chair, till he was now behind the back rest. He took the cigarette from between his lips, crushing it onto the back rest, imagining the tombstone he'd seen.

    "They got the spelling wrong..." He muttered to himself with a chuckle. This was directed more to himself than anyone else, and would be somewhat confusing to hear, as the spelling wasn't wrong. Not the name, the epithet, or anything else.

    His gaze turned up towards Moore, the Sisters, and the new girl.

    "Moore, good to see you again! How's L.A. treating you so far?"

    "You're not supposed to be here Peter."

    "Pish posh, you're my new handler right? Shouldn't I go where you do?"
    He cackled to himself.

    "My responsibilities are none of your business Peter, beyond that you are to listen to MY orders, and I ordered you to stay on the East Coast."

    "And yet here I am, saving the day..."
    His gaze turned to Avery now.

    "You must be Avery." He grinned. "Nice intro to SINS isn't it? You must be so confused as to what's going on right now, but don't worry, it'll all make sense later. Just know that if you're looking for a handler who actually respects his agents, I'm always taking applicants."

    Moore felt his stomach churn a little. How did Peter know about Avery? He didn't have access to ANY of the files on her, and yet he knows her by face and name?

    Peter started again. "Well well well, look at you Sybil Sisters! All grown up and eager to get into the big leagues now! I can see that glimmer of youthful vigor and ambition in your eyes! I can imagine... Watching supes on TV growing up, Captain Valor, Lady Liberty, fantasizing about how that could be YOU one day, if they only gave you the chance!"

    He snorted a little, before throwing his head back in laughter. There was an effort on his part to contain himself, but... He just couldn't help it. After an uncomfortably long period of laughs, he turned his gaze back to the five around him.

    "You're all so... Fresh faced. I feel like you haven't really started to learn the rules to this game, have you? Well, let me simplify one."

    The smile disappeared from his face, and left an emotionless expression, something rare for him.

    "You've all heard the legends of Agent Gladden, right? Well, except you Avery. This one is a SINS Legend, one they won't tell you about in the papers, or social media. He was known to be the agent who came back from EVERY mission he was on. And he was on some of the toughest ones SINS had. A man of grit, tough as US Steel. Whole teams might be wiped out, but somehow he'd come crawling back alive. Until his last mission at least..."

    He trailed off whimsically in thought, before turning his attention back to the group. "Sorry, bit of a tangent there. But really, this all ties into the first rule you should learn about. Never, ever, get in Peter Radovan's way."

    Now his gaze specifically went between the Sybil Sisters. "Next, it's rude to read someone's journal, no? So imagine how disrespectful it is for you to enter my mind... Never. Do it. Again."

    His lips curled up in a smirk, but his eyes were narrowed, predatory. "On that note... How would you all like to hear a scary story? Best part is, it's a scary story in just one word."

    Peter's mouth opened slightly, still grinning, but like the eager, ravenous look a mountain lion might get before chasing down it's prey. He lifted one hand in the air, put his thumb and middle finger together, snapped...

    And he was gone.

    Peter had completely disappeared. In the mind connection Sybil had created, he was no longer visible. And not only invisible, the psychic connection with him had utterly vanished.

    Then, the psychic connections began to form again, but this time... Were there more people in the room than before? It felt like there was now seven other people in the room...

    Moore, Avery, and the five sisters felt a hand press down on each of their shoulders, and a voice whisper in their ears...

    "Boo."

    The hands quickly disappeared, and Peter could be heard cackling, but it was cutting in and out, like a CD skipping. Flashes of him appeared in different parts of the room, examining the walls of eyes, sitting on the floor, simply standing there, etc.

    Finally the last image of him to appear was him simply looking to the group and giving a small wave.

    "Don't worry kiddos, I'll take over from hear. Nina; keep up the good work. Hudson, follow suit."

    With that, he turned on his heel, and began walking deeper into the containment area, before the psychic connection with him fully severed again.

    If anyone were to look into they room, they'd be able to see Peter Radovan walking away from his chair, going deeper into the containment areas. He was physically there, he could be seen, interacted with.

    So how did he sever the psychic connection?

    Moore stared in shock, trying to understand what exactly had just happened.

    __________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
 
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US Bank Tower: March 20th, 2045​


The door started to open and a blonde girl immediately started chatting them up. Try as she might, Anima couldn’t feel apprehensive towards the new arrival, quite the opposite in fact. Something about her tempted Anima to walk right up to her.

Cadence grabbed Anima’s collar and held her in place, “Stranger Classification.” Sophia looked at her sister, “Propagating from the parahuman, those closest to her were affected first.” Emiri nodded, “Analysis suggests waves falling between twenty hertz and twenty kilohertz.” Danielle smiled, “Mental contact with the target confirms tertiary presumptions. A well-placed bullet would stop it.” One of the guns floated slightly in Nina’s direction, then jerked to a stop.

Sybil smiled, “No need.” The sisters spoke in unison, “Dissonance.” Sophia and Danielle started to sing, carefully matching their frequency to Nina’s but inverting the phase. The room grew quiet as their sound waves met and canceled out Nina’s.

As if part of the plan, Sybil watched the escapee leave the psychic link and disappear. Feedback and foxfire raced towards her. Sibyl frowned, “When in Rome…” Cocking her foot back she kicked the fox fire into the air, extinguishing it. Now that the escapee was out of the connection, Sybil felt confident updating the quota to escapees. The encounter had felt too similar to the parahuman they'd suppressed who had an all too real imaginary friend.

Cadence put a finger to her earpiece, “Jamie send down the K-9.”

“What? Why?”

“The escapee is a Kitsune-mochi.”

“Fox witch? What does th-“

“Kitsune are terrified of dogs,” She cut him off. “The only place in Japan without Kitsune is where the Inugami live.” Cadence’s attention turned back towards the other room, towards Peter.

Sophia and Danielle’s quiet song continued and the sisters listened calmly as he talked. Cadence couldn't help but think he loved the sound of his own voice. When he put a hand on her shoulder she let out an audible scoff, they'd just played the mind games card, and now he was trying to double down on it? That wasn't how the game was played.

“The great Peter Radovan: steals my move, does a parlor trick, then fucks off. Truly the greatest SINS has to offer.” Her voice oozed with sarcasm as she turned towards the agents he’d left behind.

Sybil sent a small psychic wave after Peter, it reverberated and bounced back to her, like rudimentary echolocation. “He’s in there, probably with our fox friend.”
 
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US Bank Tower, Los Angeles, California: March 20th, 2045, 7:50am

Avery's confusion ebbs as she decides to table it for another time. Deal with it later. She finds she has a habit of doing that a lot. It's probably unhealthy.

Whatever. She wants to beat the shit out of something.

One of the girls introduces herself as Emiri, and notes the others are her sisters. Family affair.

“For now, do you mind if I initiate a Mental Handshake?”

She does not know what that means. "What? Uh, sure."

She blinks and finds herself in a stark white room. There's a girl in front of her, hand outstretched. Emiri? Danielle? Anima? Wait, who are those other two? Where did she get those names from? Their features blend together in an indistinct, distinct blur: at once familiar and unfamiliar, known and unknown. Like the end of a good job interview, Avery grasps her hand and shakes it.

Instantly, sights, colors, sounds, images flood her mind. She tries to recoil from it, take it back, but it's like she's drowning, flailing her arms above the water and not getting any purchase.

And she's standing in the basement once more, hand clasping Emiri's. She's got a lack-of-caffiene style headache going on. She winces, scrunches her face up and shakes it off.

"Gah... Shit." Telepaths, man.

The door creaked open just as she got her sleeves right. She stanced up like a boxer, preparing for whatever might come.

What greeted them on the other side was a lumbering feline creature that hurled spectral fire at the group; Avery jumped out of the way, seeing the smoke snake back to a central point and - it's gone. Leaving only... some guy in a suit. He casually rises out of his seat, murmuring to himself before addressing the Bossman in a sort of office-socialization tone of voice.

It becomes apparent that the Boss - Moore - does not like him.

Then he turns to her. You know that thing about how most animals percieve eye contact and smiles as threatening? The way he holds his gaze and bares his teeth is almost in that primitive sense. Avery wishes she averted her gaze. Instead, she locks eyes with this cold, dead thing. His eyes sparked with a vague sense of amusement, as if he was imagining all the ways he could rip her apart and take pleasure in every moment. And he said her name.

He addresses her like a dog, calls himself a "handler". She doesn't like that. She doesn't blink.

His attention slides off of her and to the sisters. She gets an almost protective knee-jerk reaction of wanting to call out, "Hey buddy! I'm right over here! Let's continue this conversation!" but it doesn't come out. Her mouth is dry and she lets him taunt the sisters. She loathes herself for doing so. She feels a pang of sympathy for them. They also want to be heroes. Just like her, before she got so fucked up, and everything got so fucked up, and now she's just praying the mistakes she makes aren't going to cause too much collateral. But she also doesn't wanna keel over for some dumb reason.

The man's laughter reverberates around the room darkly. In this moment, most of all, she doesn't wanna die to this guy.

She engraves his name in her memory. Peter Radovan.

"How would you all like to hear a scary story?" Finally, some fucking action. Despite her apprehension, Avery tenses up like an animal about to pounce. The skin of her hand is taut around her knuckles.

There's something wrong with him. A crazed look, a snap - isn't that snap supposed to be a light yellow? Why, then, did it spark up in her vision a dark, shadowy grey? He's gone, and it's far too quiet.

Pressure on the shoulder, and a chilling voice in her ear. "Boo." Grey teases the edges of her vision.

She spins around and snaps her fist forward, emitting a blast of defiantly bright light tinged with sky blue. Avery hoped it would be enough to pierce the fucker's skull; instead, it cracked the wall behind her. There was no one there after all.

His laughter filled her vision like a haze of smoke. His retreat sounded... fine. The clacking of his dress shoes against the concrete floor emitted the proper color of yellow, but was still a few shades darker than it should be.

Avery looked around her. People stood in various degrees of shock, but were otherwise fine. She turns to Moore, one foot in front of the other like a sprinter at the starting line, just waiting for the A-Okay, "We going after them?"


Interactions Sepokku Sepokku | Lord Saethos Lord Saethos
 
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Oh.

Oh!

Oh!

Nina’s eyes went wide as the first words of the song slipped through Sophia and Danielle’s lips, fading the room into silence as their opposing soundwaves reached equilibrium and canceled each other out. Her smile spread wide across her face, surprised and giddy and carnivorous and childlike. She abandoned Moore, ignoring the agents and the guns and the other three-fifths of Sybil as she immediately spun on her heel and bounced over to Sophia and Danielle, their voices becoming audible once more the instant they had nothing to crash against.

Nina snapped up their hands in hers, her face getting closer than was strictly comfortable. “You guys sing?” she asked with such earnest excitement it was almost disorienting. “That was Rolling Stones, right? Do you like them? What do you think of their influence on later rock? They’re really foundational, right? Like, even if they aren’t super impressive themselves? They’re just like, really objectively skilled and influential in their craft, right? Like old master artisans, right? Do you only like rock, or do you know other genres, too? Do you like opera? Can you do opera?”

Nina was pulled roughly away from Sybil, one of the agents wrenching her arms behind her back now that the passivity they were being lulled into was starting to wear off. Several guns were leveled at her as the others prepared to go after Peter. “Ah, we should talk about this later!” Nina shouted over the agents struggling to take her into custody. “I really wanna know what you think of more recent stuff too, like Nulix in a Vacuum!”

Nina was forced to the ground, her face pressed against the floor as the agent holding her called for a Muzzle. Well, that just wouldn’t do at all. She hadn’t been Muzzled in months now, and was growing accustomed to a certain status quo. She had heard Peter yell to keep up the great work as he headed deeper into the vault; that was the same as letting her off the leash, right? Since he wasn’t here to supervise? Good ol’ Peter. He’d never put the Muzzle on her.

And one of those little bitch sisters had just insulted him.

”Hey,” she called out, her voice bright and cheery despite how it was muffled by the floor and the mechanical device the agents were trying to pull over her mouth.

Every soul in the room shuddered involuntarily, their vision going double for a brief instant as their consciousnesses flickered like a faulty cable tv connection.

”Listen, I get we kinda butted in on this, but is this really necessary?” Nina asked, pushing herself up off the ground as the agents holding her lost their balance. ”Like, we’re all on the same team, right? No need to get all huffy!” She laughed lightly, as if it were a joke. “I mean, I get we’re all just trying to do our jobs here, but this all seems a little excessive!” She laughed as if it were a joke, but getting to her feet, her eyes held all the warmth and levity of a metal slug.

Nina took the half-closed Muzzle off her face, pushing the agent who had knelt atop her over with the tip of her shoe. She cast her gaze over those present and into the next room; a few had run off after Peter, and it looked like Hudson had followed after him as well. Good. No one to snap the leash.

”Still, job being a job, I hope none of you are gonna take this personally, alright? Maybe we can all go out for drinks after!” Her tone made her sound so sincere and friendly, it was jarring how none of that reached her expression. One of the agents tried to raise her gun, leveling it toward Nina, but in her dazed and shaky state it was a simple thing for Nina to sidestep the woman’s aim, grabbing her wrist and forcing her palm into the back of the agent’s elbow, snapping her arm like a branch. ”Hey, now!” Nina reprimanded as the gun clattered to the floor. Nina snatched it up in an instant, shooting another agent in the shoulder without hesitation as he made to lift his gun as well.

”Why don’t you all just get some rest, okay?”

And they collapsed to the floor. Some of them looked to have blood dribbling out of their ears or noses, and Nina sucked her teeth at the sight. What a strong will and hearty constitution these SINS agents had.

Agent Moore had propped himself against the wall, somehow still conscious, though from his slurred mumbling it was only barely. Still, Nina had kinda just expected him to keel over dead. Huh. She leveled the pistol at him for a moment, considering. It sure would be easy, wouldn’t it? It’s not like he was worth anything. Poor guy, shot by his own bodyguards in the chaos as he failed to subdue the escaped Breaker. What a way to go.

… Nah. Nina tossed the gun aside, stepping over unconscious bodies on her way back into the vault after her Handler.
 
As Nina stepped back through the ballast door, the fragrant smoke still lingering in the room billowed and swallowed her. Kindle's mirthful laugh echoed eerily throughout the facility as the room beyond the door was shrouded in a deep fog, restricting visibility to naught but a few inches. Motes of FoxFire dotted the fog, drifting lazily back and forth with no apparent pattern. They whispered encouragement to anyone who strayed too close, pulsating in a hypnotic pattern. The fog itself was nearly pitch dark, and away from the wandering motes of FoxFire, sounds echoed unnaturally and occasionally something skittered through the void. Gleaming silver eyes sometimes peered out of the fog, only to wink out as soon as one looked directly at them.

Follow me, follow me,
Over brake and under tree,
Thro' the bosky tanglery,
Brushwood and bramble!
Follow me, follow me,

Laugh and leap and scramble!
A few moments passed after the fog closed in around Nina, as though Kindle were considering whether or not to let her through. A path opened up in front of her with an amused chuckle echoing through the fog, and a trail of paw prints in FoxFire led the way through the hazards, though the fog was ever just inches from her heels. Farther in, Peter and Hudson rounded a corner to find themselves in complete darkness. The way they came was gone, and the slick concrete floors of the underground SINS facility had been replaced with glass-like obsidian... if obsidian rippled like ink.

The sizzle of burning tobacco preceded Kindle being illuminated in their peripherals, the sole point of light in the void. She reclined comfortably in an oversized chair that didn't quite blend perfectly into the darkness, atop a black velvet cushion with her legs crossed. She let out a cloud of smoke that formed into a fox, scampering past their feet. Silver eyes gleamed with mischief and malice in equal measure, and mirth touched the corners of her lips.

"How very interesting... you amuse me," she announced, when Peter turned towards her. Closer inspection revealed the chair to be formed from the twisted, charcoaled husks of people. The remnants of their clothes still glowed faintly from the heat which charred them... the corpse of an act of wrath long past. Her tails rustled in the seat behind her as they moved to cushion her back.

"So what is it you propose to atone for this crime of attempting to lock us away?"
 
  • Richard nodded along with what Chizuki had been saying, attentively listening as she filled him and the others in on what brought her here, and her admittedly fascinating pen. Though it did leave the question as to how exactly she got a hold of it. Wasn't that something that should be in a museum?

    He was going to chime in, but Vicky had seemingly totally checked out of all social interaction, to the point it was kind of distracting for Richard. Granted, that was hardly out of character. The picture she seemed to be painting of herself could be summed up as a pretty selfish one.

    And yet, for some reason, she did sometimes choose to take action when needed.

    People were shades of grey it seemed. Hmm, nah, not grey, grey is too flat a color, seems empty, void. People come in different shades, and what doesn't make sense to us, makes perfect sense to others.

    Seemed she'd had enough and was getting up to leave, inviting Ezra to join her. He shrugged slightly, though admittedly he had been enjoying the extra company.

    "No offense taken." He responded to Ezra, who seemed keen for more entertainment. But something had caught Richard's eye... Maybe it was the flash of the camera from those band members? No, that didn't seem to be it, though that WAS highly suspect.

    His gaze wandered over to a trio across the street, barely noticeable at first, but he'd caught them... Peeking over at them? Were they watching them?

    "Hey Vic, looks like the paparazzi is following you..." Again, he instinctively reached for his pistol and...

    Came up empty handed. Right... He'd left it at the hotel room. Figured it'd be bad to go out strapped in a place where that was illegal, at least without a mask on.
 
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  • It was sloppy. Cadence knew that much immediately, her work was sloppy, hastily thrown together, and ugly to look at; but it worked. As Nina got up and her power spread across the room, each of the Sybil sisters fell under its command. They’d been sloppy. This was their first real mission, their first real test. They’d been deployed countless times before, but always against a target with known capabilities. The odds were always stacked in their favor, the mission success practically guaranteed. Today was nothing like those missions. They’d been mobilized at Cadence’s urging, without the Director’s consent, and now they faced unknown elements that took advantage of their naivety.

    Oh, how Cadence loved the challenge. The thrill, the taste of new emotions and memories as her mind collided with others; all of it left her feeling the most alive she’d ever been. Her sister’s parasympathetic nervous systems screamed, the need to relax around Nina was almost palpable. Instead, she funneled all of their physiological responses into herself and let them play out. It was easy enough if she thought of Nina’s words in abstracts.

    “We can all go out for drinks after!”

    Cadence always made sure to maintain optimal hydration, that went without saying, there was no need to hydrate more; the thought was wasted on her.

    ”Why don’t you all just get some rest, okay?”

    She was. To Cadence, this was rest. Escape from the black site they were kept at, an excuse to flex their powers, the opportunity to meet other people and socialize like normal. This was the R and R that Cadence craved. Her sisters stood only slightly disoriented behind her, Cadence’s supremacy keeping them in a sub-state of the psychic link while she served as central processor. As far as anyone connected to Sybil was concerned, they had obeyed Nina as they should.

    It almost made her laugh. Nina was sloppy too. Cadence guessed that her suggestions were usually taken at face value more often than not, they left too much open to interpretation. It’s a shame she wasn’t educated as Sybil had been. “Precision of language.” Cadence wondered why the phrase made her want to flinch. There was no time to ponder the thought, Nina began to follow Peter and Hudson out of the room.

    Sybil stood in front of Agent Moore, poised to defend him if the need arose. Two of the guns Danielle had prepped were trained directly on Nina, minor sensory tampering kept them hidden from the agent who should have been muzzled. She dropped her guns the same moment Nina dropped hers. Something in that poor girl’s past resonated with Sybil, something terrible. There was a small worry she would regret her decision.

    Then it was just them in the room, Moore relaxing slightly as he attempted to ascertain the issue at hand. Sibyl cocked her head and thought through the encounter carefully. Cadence sighed and scratched the back of her head as she rolled the information over in her head. “It’d help if you gave us all the information you had on Peter.” She straightened up and cleared her throat, “Tertiary analysis? Upgrade Peter to Stranger/Trump classification. He either manipulated our senses or messed with the link somehow. The escapee is an amalgamation, much like us. I sensed at least three separate sapient minds in that body; expect her to have more tricks up her sleeve. The Kitsune is fairly akin to traditional mythos; a fox spirit that has lived long enough to master its technique.”

    Emiri spoke up, “That’d give the possessee Stranger and Thinker classifications, probably above a rating of seven at least.” Anima raised her fist to her chin and cracked her knuckles and chin simultaneously, “We really walked into a fight with our direct counters, didn’t we?” Danielle interlaced her fingers and stretched her arms above her head, “No matter, we went easy on them and they were still forced to beat a hasty retreat.”

    The elevator let out a chime as another SINS agent arrived downstairs, a lone canine that looked bored with its role in being here. It trotted out of the elevator and gave a look of contempt to the SINS agents that lay on the ground in various states of unconsciousness. Slowly it made its way to Cadence’s side and plopped down with a bored expression on its face.

    Sophia frowned while she crunched the numbers, “We acted with haste and made a wrong move, opening the psychic link up to two Strangers. It wont happen again.” Cadence walked up to her sister and clapped a hand onto her back, “Damn straight. Our battery is still practically full. Worst comes to worst and we’ll bury this tomb.” She turned towards Avery, “Let’s blitz these animals and wrap this up in time for endless sushi.”
 
"Careful you don't make an offer you can't fulfill," she warned glibly, gently tracing the contours of a twisted limb. The Fox regarded Peter for a long time while the silence of the void pressed down on them. A malicious smile played about her lips as she tapped her cheek with a sharp painted nail. Just as Peter was about to retract the note she stood, reaching up and closing her fingers on the note as she drew unnecessarily close. Her cheek brushed against his, and for a fraction of a second they stood at the center of an inferno. The fire roared. Wood cracked and splintered as buildings were swallowed, and a hundred voices all screamed as they tried to extinguish the unnatural flames.

"Promises are not to be broken, Mr. Radovan," she whispered into his ear, tugging the note out of his hand.

They were back in the facility, facing the wall of a maintenance closet in an out of the way area. They stood at the center of an array of concentric circles, kanji, and Shinto symbolism drawn in fragrant ash, vaguely illuminated by the flickering light overhead. In place of the note, Peter held a pair of vibrant red maple leaves. FoxFire gently faded from the leaf that used to be Peter's business card, leaving a message seared onto its surface.

キンドル
 
US Bank Tower, Los Angeles, California: March 20th, 2045, 7:47am

Moore looked at the Sibyl Sisters and let out a chuckle, before raising his arms out towards them in a mock 'welcoming' fashion.

"Congrats ladies, you're now part of the upper echelons of SINS and know as much about Peter Radovan as I do." He let out an exasperated sigh as he pulled himself up from his perch against the wall. "I'm sorry, but honestly there's nothing more I can really say that'd realistically be of any help. The vast majority of his files are redacted, missing, or full of info that is generally horrifying, and contains little info to actually work off of. Plus there's the long list of NDA's we've had to have agents sign after they've worked with him, but those also contain next to nothing useful."

He straightened himself up, and offered a bit of a crooked grin. "But before this day is done, I'm gonna make sure we learn at least something about him." The metal object was pressed tighter into his palm as his grip increased.

As the canine unit joined them, he watched with slight amusement at how the thing interacted. Seemed like it was ready for retirement or something.

"Not to put a damper on your eagerness ladies, but please don't bring the whole thing down. Doesn't matter if Douglas MacNamara does things that way, I'd rather avoid destruction of facilities, or loss of life."

Moore looked to the other soldiers, the ones who still seemed in good condition. "Get some gear together. Sedatives, Power Inhibitors, the works. We're gonna try this the non-lethal way, IF we can."

With pistol now in hand, Moore checked the clip to ensure it was still fully loaded. "We'll be going in together. Ready?"

___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Peter listened intently to the Fox's words. She certainly had an aura of menace to her. More than he'd anticipated. He couldn't help but grin. As she got closer to him, the sound of her voice, and of distant screams, filled his ears. Peter didn't speak, didn't offer a response, merely maintained eye contact with her for as long as her eyes were within sight of his.

The brush of her cheek was warm, possibly from the inferno. But something about his was cool, but in that strange way that cool air can feel... Fresh.

"Promises are not to be broken, Mr. Radovan."

As their surroundings disappeared, so did the Kitsune, leaving behind a pair of maple leaves in his finger tips. On the surface was written...

"Kindle." He said as his eyes narrowed, tracing over the redness of the leaves.

He looked around now to see the ash that they stood upon, and the markings etched into it. The grin widened on his face.

"Hudson, remind me to check the archives later. Gotta do a bit of my own research."

Peter turned on his heel, shifting the dust beneath his leather shoes, making his way back to his partner. He snapped his fingers and pointed at her for a moment.

"Hey... You know any good fables or poems about the Devil making a deal with himself?"

Sepokku Sepokku XianaEvermor XianaEvermor draconicheart draconicheart
 



























"Hey Vic, looks like the paparazzi is following you..."

Yukisa watches Richard for a split second while he is attempting to access something that isn't there. What was it that he wanted? By the movement she could only guess he was going for a weapon. Her eyes, then her head turns around to look behind herself, seeing the so-called paparazzi that Richard was talking about.

“Vic, do you know these people? They seem to be looking at you, but also at Ezra....” Yukisa looks at the men that were gandering over towards Vic. It was only two of them looking directly at Vic, but another of them looked rather high... She sensed something was off from that, however if she had to use her powers she’d like to be in a more comfortable outfit to do so. Something that preferably wouldn’t rip to shreds the moment she tries to expand herself when transformed. She happens to have that very thing in amongst her other things in her backpack.

“I’ll be right back…” Yukisa goes back to her table and puts her notebook and pen back into their slots in her backpack very swiftly. Then she picks up her bag and briskly walks to the bathroom.

About a minute later she hops herself back out of the cafe, and back to her previous location. The outfit she is now sporting consists of black yoga pants, and a sports bra with a loose black crop top layered over it. It’s also worth noting that she has ditched her shoes, which are now fastened to her backpack. It’s not her romper that she usually uses, however her workout wear has been upgraded with the same type of fabric so that it has the capability to transform into whatever substance Yukisa becomes, as well as move and expand with her. She figured it would be a good idea to have more than one outfit to change into should such a situation arise, which appears to be unfolding here at the cafe.

“Did I miss anything in that quick minute I was gone?” She guesses not, as the paparazzi fellows were still lollygagging around in the distance, sure taking their grand old time to figure out what they are doing. She turns her head to look around at Richard and the others. "I felt like changing into something a little more comfortable. The temperature of the air is rising with the sun and I prefer staying cool." A barely noticeable smirk begins to creep onto her face at the end of that sentence.











































♡coded by uxie♡
 

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