Futuristic H A D E A N

[Sepokku]

​

• Skidrow, Los Angeles March 20th 2045 Early Morning
• Los Angeles Cafe, March 20th, 2045

• The city was disgusting, they passed several tent cities that seemed to have a population of at least a hundred. Scourge’s lumbering form behind her was a welcome comfort that shielded her from the true underbelly of the city. It had been so easy when Cro had picked her up and spirited her way into the European underground. Even though she was a fully accomplished tinker in her own right, capable of raining death on most of the Soviet nation, she couldn’t help but feel like a small child in certain situations. She walked with purpose and knew exactly where she was going, but there was still a nagging worry in the back of her mind.
  
  “What a pitiable place,”
  
  Lilian’s gait slowed until Scourge was right behind her, “It is… A true trash heap.” The darker part of the city of Angels was uncomfortably familiar to the Banlieue she’d escaped from only years prior. Shaking her head she dismissed her worries, as a Hero and Villain, she set herself up to transcend such frivolous concerns. Her eyes settled on a bush only half concealing a sleeping bag occupied by a grime-covered man. “A place to be recycled and repurposed perhaps, but not today.” Watching the street, she chose an appropriate vehicle and walked into the middle of the road as it turned the corner.
  
  The owner of the van pressed on the car’s horn and held it while they leaned out of the van, “Yo, what the actual fuck do you think you’re doing?” The middle-aged owner of the car looked like he might actually run her over if she didn't get out of the way soon enough.
  
  Reaching into her coat Lilian produced a clip of money and her phone, then she thumbed out ten hundred dollar bills. “Take me and my associate to this cafe,” She pointed to a dot on her phone’s GPS, “There are a thousand dollars in it for you.”
  
  “Shit that’s three times what I would’ve made today, get in.”
  
  The van was fairly roomy, but… She looked at Scourge and the backseat, there was no way he was going to fit in there. Just how did this giant get around normally and how had Vicki gotten him here last time? “Open the trunk,” She hooked her thumb back at Scourge, “Brutus fold the backseat down and get in the back.”
  
  The driver’s face got several shades paler as he watched the massive suited man approach his vehicle. Carting him around was different than getting paid a dime to drive an attractive businesswoman to a cafe. Regardless he reached down and pulled the lever that opened the back of the van. Lilian opened the passenger door and got in the car. She thumbed out another ten bills and rested her elbow on the door while leaning her chin on her fist, “I’ll pay you double if you get us there in ten minutes.”
  
  “It’s twenty minutes away, that impo-.”
  
  “Triple. That should cover any tickets for speeding or running red lights. If the police get involved you can use my firm’s lawyer, no charge.”
  
  “Well… Since you asked nicely.”
• Pistolero giggled to himself while Tik and Tok argued behind him, “We’re licensed Heroes, we have the authority to just go in there and grab him, why are we waiting?”
  
  Tok put his palm onto his face and reprimanded his brother, “Because our boss will fire us if we cause any more collateral damage!” Just what the heck was taking the vandal so long? “Wait, you don’t think he’s robbing the place, do you?”
  
  “Hey guys,” Pistolero was squatting down, holding his hands in front of his eyes like he was holding binoculars, “What’s he looking at?” He pointed to a man with black hair sitting in the cafe.
  
  “Oh shit.” Tik smacked the back of Pistolero’s head, “Why are you pointing, now they know we’re watching them.” He picked Pistolero up bridal style while his brother jumped onto his back. Then he ran to the cafe. He was only slightly out of breath when he got there. “Foul villain!” Tik crooked their arm at an angle and dropped his head down so that his face was covered by his elbow, while simultaneously raising the opposite arm out in a straight parallel.
  
  Opposite him, Tok stood on one foot and put his arms straight out so that his body formed a ‘t,’ “The Peacemakers are here to bring you to justice!”
  
  Pistolero fell to one knee and used his hands to make an ‘M’ shape around his eyes, “Hell yeah man!”

 

[CabbageAngel]

» Vicki Vortex

『 TAGGED 』 [ Lord Saethos MisoraUni Fate0013 Sepokku ]

Vic gave Ezra a flat look before she gestured him to follow with a cock of her head. She was about to spirit away with him when Richard brought her attention to her ‘paparazzi’. Yeah, yeah, she knew they were taking photos, that’s why she was dipping. She flung an obligatory glance towards the subjects of Richard’s attention and… huh. No. Different guys. She stuffed her hands in her pockets and bristled. Her lackadaisical attitude visibly dropped.

“No…” she responded to Chizuki, dragging out the word. “Not from over here. OI!” Her voice raised suddenly in a bark. Paparazzi were like roaches. They scattered at loud noises and turning on the kitchen light. But these three didn’t scatter. Worst case scenarios started to tickle the back of her mind, goaded on by the paranoia of her company. Had STAs tracked her here? Were they about to make another attempt on their runaway talent?

A controlled wind picked up around her. Her clothes and hair swayed like she was on a clothesline, while everything else on the street remained still.

“I don’t think they're mine,” she murmured, then gestured to Ezra and turned the ‘passive-aggressive charms’ full force to hide her nerves. “Yours? Stressed-out undertakers about to be out of a job if they don’t get zombie boy back in the box.” She liked her new speculation better. She glanced Ezra’s way to check how much he didn’t. Then she turned it onto Richard. “What about you, left behind any grieving, vengeful friends and family lately?”

Chizuki’s return took Vic aback. That really was a quick minute. Vic had barely registered she’d been gone and now she had a different fit. She tried to not let this distract her from keeping her eyes on the trio across the street. “That’s wizard. Why are your feet out?”

The mystery behind that choice had to be put aside for later, as that’s when the trio made their move. Vic’s wind picked up. Shit, shit, shit. Maybe Chizuki was onto something because she was not ready for a fight in these heels –

The winds fell like a dead audience in the face of Team Rocket. In Pistolero’s bloodshot, dilated eyes, she saw herself.

“PFT-” without warning she doubled over with a snort. Vic over-corrected herself back up in hysterics. “Holy shit – Alright, man, yeah! Bring us to justice. What the hell.” She recovered enough to take off her trenchcoat and loop it over an arm, then looked over her shoulder at the others to point at the peacekeepers – ‘you seeing this?’. The sunglasses did little to hide the delight in her eyes. “Aha... You guys have fun. Come on, Ezra.”

Vic shook her head laughing and moved to walk past their accosters.

code by @Nano

 

[The_Rockening]

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

“Brutus fold the backseat down and get in the back.”

"UHHHH...Yes, Emma Ma'am. RIGHT away, Ma'am," Scourge responded, in a slow, frothing voice that parodied his own. The big green zombie took a step inside, and in an instant, the back of the van sank with a grating creak, deep enough to jerk the front-side upwards, its wheels six inches from the earth.

He sat quietly in the back, then shuffled forward to unburden the van. His shades masked much - but not all - of the leering, inhuman yellow of his eyes, threatening the driver by their mere presence. Not that the latter needed it, with the kind of cash Lilian proposed. Scourge's cheeks rose with an amused mile. Was she that desperate, or simply, filthy rich?

A ten-minute long cacophony of blaring horns and screeching wheels ensued, set to near-misses, close-swerves, and highly illegal U-turns. Scourge steadied himself with his palms against the van walls, his shades dangling by the spikes of his mask. The momentary fear that flashed over his eyes narrowed into a wicked, slanted smirk as every sight and sound of the chaos registered through his senses and pumped adrenaline throughout his body. “HA HA HA HA! Yeeeees. YES. Faster, FASTER!”

Trash cans tumbled like bowling pins. Hoodlums leapt out of the way. Sparks flew as the van scraped against narrow alley walls, until Skid Row was a recent memory, and palm trees loomed over them against clear blue skies.

---

Los Angeles, California: March 20th, 2045, morning.
​

The van screeched to a stop at their destination. Scourge’s cackles subsided into shoulder-rocking chuckles, and he bumped his fist against the driver’s chair. “WELL DONE, Driver!” A light tap for Scourge, but one that tossed the latter forehead-first against the horn. “I’d tip ya, except I’m broke,” Scourge said - rather casually - and exited. A thud and another shriek of the wheel later, and Scourge and Lilian found themselves back on their feet, with the cafe just down the street. He hunched forward with his hands in his pockets, in an effort to make himself seem as small and subtle as he could... a futile effort, really.

”Right behind ya, Emma. HEH,” Scourge beckoned her to lead, mentally patting himself on the back for remembering their cover.

 

[XianaEvermor]

Kindle stood at the precipice. Naught but a keycode and a hidden door between her and freedom. She could get out... even the amalgam-psychic would have trouble navigating the the labyrinth in the five floors between them. The probability that they could get there fast enough to even catch a glimpse of her tails as she sauntered away was unlikely. Why hesitate now?

They cage us unjustly. Treat us like monsters.​

This wasn't the time to be hung up on petty grievances. There was a job to be doing. Going back to exact a little quick vengeance would put them all at risk needlessly. If they incapacitated Kindle, there was nobody else to take the wheel. Kindle balled up her fists, crumpling the note Peter had given her. Her sharp nails bit into the flesh of her palms.

They hurt Bubbzie.​

The cost... in a world bereft of all but the scarcest traces of Mana, recovering her strength would be much more difficult... Blood dripped down her fingers and spattered on the floor.

When I put her to sleep... she was crying.
Shouldn't they have to pay for what they've done?​

We're supposed to save these animals? Show them compassion? Mercy? While they twist our kindness to suit their selfishness, and fail to keep even the most basic promise to not be massive assholes?? The Oath Breakers could pay back the deficit with their souls. Kindle spun on her heels, her tails snapping angrily. As the fog swallowed her, dark shapes of spindly limbs and far too many silver eyes peeled out of her shadow and flanked her on either side.

---

Something had changed. The whole mood shifted from eerie mischief to malicious terror. Sebastian hunkered under a desk, chiding himself for feeling like a frightened child. They were still recovering from being thrashed about by that Tiger when the fog hit. He had the world's best training, graduated top of his class. He was supposed to be cream of the crop; a fearless warrior, and here he was hiding under office furniture from the malicious giggling of an anime character. It wasn't right. He held his breath as a mote of FoxFire drifted past.

Eeeeny Meeeany Miney Moe
Catch a Tiger by the Toe...
If She Cries the Fox Begins
Ţ̴̡̮̅̏o̵̘̍̚͝ ̶̯̤͙́M̷͕̼̹̌̿ȃ̷͈̦͈̌k̴͉̮͊͒̽e̴̠̬͉͒ ̵̡̓̍͛Y̴̲͓͑͌o̵̯̻̦͒u̷̹͆̉͋ ̴̜̻̤̎P̵̡̺͎͘a̵̠̔͑̓͜y̵͚̐̕ ̵͙̲̅̿͆ͅF̸̨̋o̴̞̥̪̽͂r̴̜̂̅̌͜ ̷̱̏̔A̴̻̍̌̒l̵̿̄ͅl̶̟͓̙̾̄͠ ̶̱͇͂͑ͅỴ̶̝͆ơ̵̬͑̍u̶̧͕͕͋͒͝r̸͇̍ ̵͖̟̣͌S̶̮͋̾͆I̵̱͚̋̋̒N̴̺͍͋̕͝S̴̥͇̲͗​

The mote whipped suddenly around a corner, moving with a purpose. The dull thud of the explosion resonated through the concrete, chased by a flash of blue light in the fog and the horrid screaming of someone burning alive. He'd watched that unnatural hell-fire consume two of his squad-mates. Nothing put it out. The extinguishers did nothing. Rolling just spread the flames, and whatever they used to try and smother it just caught fire until the victim was a twisted mass of charred bone and melted flesh. He shivered, unable to get the pleading of his comrades to just make it stop out of his head.

Then there were the creatures. Spindly... spider-like hulks of living shadow covered in shimmering silver eyes. He thought they were just illusions at first: According to the information that had trickled down from an Operator outside the fog they were dealing with some kind of Fox-Witch... a Thinker? Couldn't trust your eyes. But these... things were real. They had weight: cracked the concrete, smashed through doors and furniture and dragged men into threshing maws to be torn asunder. Could illusions do that?? Not to mention the way the space twisted and warped. He knew the layout of this facility like the back of his hand: he could navigate it with his eyes closed but things weren't where they were supposed to be, and no matter which direction he ran, he seemed to end up running in circles. It was maddening. Sebastian flinched as something creeped around the corner and he leveled his rifle at it.

"Flash?!" The figure flinched in return.

"Uh, Thunder!" Sebastian lowered his rifle, heaving a sigh of barely contained relief.

"Welcome. God get into cover, you're gonna draw them here!" he seethed. The figure shuffled over quietly and hunkered under the desk, slapping him with that I-know-something-you-don't-know grin. It was Frank. They'd been Friends Since Highschool. They're Basically Inseparable, and the Rest of the Squad Often Joked They Were A Couple. "What's so fucking funny?!"​

"I figured it out."

"What?"

"I. Figured. It. Out," Frank smirked. Sometimes he was Infuriatingly Clever.

"Well? Spill it!"

"They're illusions... not the fire, the fire is fucked up, don't touch the fire," he shuddered. "No, no... the creatures. They're illusions, they can't hurt you," he explained.

"That. Is a load of bullshit. I saw one break down a door, smash an oak desk and tear Sergei apart like a poorly sewn rag doll, if that's what your plan hinges on-"

"Wait wait, hear me out. It's not enough to be told they're not real, you have to believe it," he said earnestly. "The fire is still a hazard, and I been wandering around in circles for Gods knows how long, but I'm not afraid of the critters anymore. Killed one... you can kill them Sea-Bass!"

"We... if this is true we need to get to a slate... or a terminal or something and let people know!"

"Oh fuck, what is that?" Frank flinched. A pair of silhouettes rounded the corner... this was a busy intersection for some reason.

"Flash?! Flash?!!" They pointed their rifles. The figures paused for an agonizing moment. Silver eyes snapped open. First two, then six. Twelve. Big and small, between mouths, and teeth. They snarled and lunged. Sebastian clamped his finger down on the trigger in a moment of panic and unloaded the entire magazine into the creatures. They shrieked and wailed as they were riddled and finally slumped to the ground. Sebastian let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. "I got them!"

"You sure did," she grinned behind him, silhouetted by the flickering lights. Sebastian swallowed as ice water spilled down his back. Every hair on his arms and neck was standing on end. His eyes flicked down to the creatures sprawled out on the ground in front of him. The lights flickered, and they were wearing SINS uniforms. He couldn't breathe. Get a grip. It's not real. Is it? Rifle's empty. He spun around, sidearm out, but she was already on him frighteningly fast. Her nails bit into his neck. A tail lashed out and knocked the pistol from his grip as he squeezed a round off clumsily. She hissed, driving her fist into his solar plexus. The combat knife he had managed to draw out of its thigh sheath clattered to the ground.

The Fox kissed him roughly. There was no tenderness or warmth... it was the kind of kiss you give someone when you're taking something away. Fire erupted in his lungs, and the color drained from his skin and hair. All the strength left his body in a luminous blue mist from his lips to hers and as the darkness closed in around him, she let him flop roughly to the floor like discarded laundry. She kneeled over him with that grin, wiping her mouth on her sleeve.

"Did that feel nice? Knowing the last thing you did was murder people who trusted you?" She rested a hand on his head, and he felt his body rise up with zombie-like vigor, supported by the living shadows that swallowed him, and illuminated by the silver eyes that opened all over his skin. "Do you relish the fact... that you will get to watch helplessly as people you trusted gun you down like an infected monster?" She giggled, though her voice lacked mirth. It was cold. It made his skin crawl as he lumbered off into the darkness, in search of more Agents presumably. More people were coming, right? Someone would save him... right?

"Fllaaahhhhssh," the creature moaned... in concert with the skittering shapes that formed up alongside him as he lumbered back through the facility towards the ballast door.

"Shouldn't have made my sister cry..." she said, tilting her head after him. As the lights flickered she vanished into the void.

 

[Fate0013]

---

---

While he was a bit bummed that everyone seemed to gloss over the fact that he openly referred to himself as a member of the living dead, Ezra was more then happy to follow Vic's lead and see where this latest adventure took him. Up until the mention of paparazzi. He blinked in confusion. Was somebody here famous? Granted there wasn't any way Ezra would be able to know that even with his time on the internet. but everyone was now very focused on a group of three nearby. He took the moment to get a grasp on the situation and take note of his present company. Mostly so he didn't miss any social cues or get the wrong impression.

Richard he couldn't get a solid read on, Chizuki Seemed more curious if anything. Vic however had lost her previous mood. Which was enough to make Ezra be more aware of what was going on. He hung behind Vic for the time being when she motioned to him. "Yours? Stressed-out undertakers about to be out of a job if they don’t get zombie boy back in the box.”
Ezra cackled a bit at that. "Nope. Unless they are some interns picking up the slack for ol' Igor." He made the p in Nope pop a bit to illustrate the point further.

The mystery of who the trio were was not very long lived when they went into their . . . "Introduction." A part of Ezra really wanted to laugh. And he really wanted to. But a larger part of him just thought the display was rather . . . pathetic? No there was a word for this he picked up online.
was it Cringe? Yes, that was it. These three were very cringe. even still, a rather loud snort did escape him. He Followed after Vic when she started to walk past the odd bunch. When they were closer, he leaned over to Vic. "I think they forgot where their filming set was or something." His statement wasn't meant to be quiet and could probably be heard by the others at the café table still.

Despite the casual air Vic had given the situation, Ezra's instincts made him begin to wrap his body under his cloths with wire and slowly charge up his wire bound hands in his pockets. Had to be something Widget told him when he started running errands for him. Something something Super powered police?

. . . Eh, probably not important if he couldn't remember.

『 Lord Saethos MisoraUni CabbageAngel Sepokku 』​

 

[draconicheart]

US Bank Tower, Los Angeles, California: March 20th, 2045, 7:53am​

With the barest of nods, Moore approves her request to chase down the bastards. Avery grins, turning her attention to the hallway that stretched out before her. The muscles in her leg tense and she feels the familiar adrenaline she gets when she uses her powers. She can see an eager neon outline tracing the edges of her body and vision as she lurches forward and-

"Hey!"

Avery's vision fills up with a bright light as if she just got flashbanged. Her foot finds no purchase on the ground and gravity seems unusually heavy. The voice fills her line of sight and head with cotton, and her body sags deep under the covers. She's out before she hits the ground.

Avery finds herself lying face-down on the ground, limbs splayed about. Her whole body aches like a nasty bruise, head particularly bad. She tastes the familiar metallic tang of blood in her mouth. She groans and pushes herself upright, moving slowly like an old man with arthritis until she settles herself in a seated position with her legs crossed. She finds that her nose and ears have a stream of drying blood running from them. She wets her dry lips with her tongue. When Moore calls for her, she replies with a casual three-fingered wave and a hoarse, "'Ere."

As the Sybil Sisters gave their report, Avery slowly took to getting her shit together. She stood up, dusted off her clothes, ran a hand through her hair, did some quick stretches, and generally willed the pain to dull to a manageable level.

"Congrats ladies, you're now part of the upper echelons of SINS and know as much about Peter Radovan as I do."

"Great." Avery groaned as she feels the crunch from her spine as she twists her body.

Avery paused mid-high elbow stretch once she caught sight of the dog, completely foregoing anything else to kneel down and pet the old boy. Between coos and licks, she felt Cadence's attention go to her and looks towards her. “Let’s blitz these animals and wrap this up in time for endless sushi.”

"Oh fuck yeah, I could totally go for some salmon nigiri and gyoza. One of you guys gotta pay though."

Before she could get ready to sprint off again, Moore collects them once more: "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." She pauses, an odd sense of respect blooms in the back of her mind. She files it away for later.

"We'll be going in together. Ready?"

What do you mean, together? Avery's always done this type of shit alone. It wouldn't hurt to have some backup, she supposes.

She's gone in a flash of ash green light, trailing away into the facility.

---

She slows down when she sees weird, spindly shadows casted from around a corner, having decided to do the uncharacteristic thing of not-charging-in-without-thinking since she's already doing the uncharacteristic thing of working-with-people.

She foregoes the uncharacteristic thing of being-subtle, though.

"Oi! We got somethin' here!" Avery calls back into the hallway from which she came, voice reverberating about the empty office halls. The shadows in front of her seem to shift with alien attention, spindly appendages reaching out into the hallway. Their shadowy masses are broken up with a starscape of eyes dotting their entire bodies. It gives her the heebie-jeebies.

One figure begins making its way towards her, feet dragging on the ground. Its form is humanoid, but it's drenched in an oozing shadow whose eyes twitch open with the other masses. It reaches an arm out, and in true zombie-fashion, groans out, "Flaaaa-"

In a flash of crimson, Avery teleports directly in front of the zombie. Her leg is raised high, and her momentum carries a heavy impact as she stomps him into the opposing wall of the hallway. She feels the crunch of its skull under her foot, and she pushes off as the creature sinks to the floor.

Interactions

Sepokku | Lord Saethos

 

[Sepokku]

​

• US Bank Tower: March 20th, 2045

• "I could totally go for some salmon nigiri and gyoza. One of you guys gotta pay though."
  
  Anima grinned, "We'll go to Sushi Kaneyoshi, it'll be our treat. You've got to try their Fugu!"
  
  Sibyl took a moment to connect each of the SINS agents to the link. Now that they had a moment to orient themselves, it was impossible to ignore the extra sensory feedback coming from Avery. A whole new sense opened up around her and spiderwebbed out through the link. The agents formed up the rear of the formation as the group moved into the containment area. Avery sparked forward, leading the blitz. Cadence, Anima, and Emiri flew right behind her; they carried Moore and K-9 with them. Moore held himself fairly rigid as he flew, while the canine went limp and looked utterly nonplussed. Sophia and Danielle hung further back, running with the rest of the agents, the clicks of their boot heels sending up splashes of color noticeable only through Avery's enhanced senses.
  
  A flash of red alerted everyone that Avery had made contact with the enemy. Cadence landed behind her and spoke loudly, “If you see the Fox witch, leave her be. I’m making an executive decision until we are back in contact with the Director.” Emiri and Anima landed on either side of their sister. “There are too many variables here.”
  
  “Peter is supposed to be on the other side of the country, he orchestrated this to some degree. The breach that needs containment is him,” Cadence’s voice got louder, “Do you hear me Kitsune? I read the report on your arrest, as far as I’m concerned you did nothing wrong and were wrongly accosted. I'm exonerating you of all wrongdoing.” She shook her head as the rear flank caught up to them, “Snooping around where the Beast spawned, ‘highly suspicious’ was what they said in the report. To me, it sounds like you were looking for a way to hurt it. The enemy of my enemy…”
  
  ‘Keep moving,’ Sybil relayed the order as she sent out another wave of psychic echolocation. Where the hell was Peter going, and why? Were they using this breach as an excuse to break someone out? The psychic link highlighted the most direct route to who she assumed was Peter, Hudson, and Nina. Another SINS agent rounded the corner, he was wrapped in an illusion, some kind of large nebulous shadow that had arms that split into two separate forearms. He unloaded his gun into the group, bullets harmlessly being plucked out of the air by Sybil before they hurt anyone. Cadence added him to the link and cleared the illusion before continuing forward. As they moved through the facility, Anima and Emiri threw up telekinetic walls to block off the paths they weren't taking.

 

[Sepokku]

​

• Los Angeles Cafe March 20th 2045
• Los Angeles Cafe March 20th, 2045
• Practice Mission: Suppress the Target(s)

• Tik put a hand on Vicki’s shoulder, “I’m sorry Miss, but I’m afraid you’re a key witness in a crime and we’ll need to take your statement before we can let you leave.” In stark contrast to his words, Tik’s other hand was extending a copy of Vicki’s first album and a black sharpie to her.
  
  Tok for his part looked uneasy, there were suddenly a lot of potential enemies in this fight: The black-haired guy who had spotted them, Vicki who seemed to know the vandal, a white-haired fashionista, and the vandal himself. Maybe Miss Montgomery had been right to take them off patrols.
  
  “Emmmmaaa,” Pistolero laughed the word out with a goofy grin plastered on his face. He reached out a hand towards his boss who had just arrived, “Gimme some skin!”
  
  Tok tried to swallow the lump that was forming in his throat, he looked over his shoulder at his boss; was it just him or did she look hungry? Something about Miss Montgomery's face was downright predatory, her expression promising recompense for their unauthorized hero duties. He suddenly wished they'd heeded Tom's warning.
• She didn’t get it. Ever since she was a little girl the mystery of it all had eluded her. Why were people like this? In a machine, if something doesn't work right, it’s defective and needs to be addressed. The unruly part is either repaired or excised and replaced. Why shouldn't it be that way with people? The world had just been devastated by some sort of cosmic horror that ripped its way into our dimension and yet she could see people squabbling in the streets. Several of which were her employees, people whom she had taken responsibility for. Why were people like this?
  
  Her forearm hummed and ached as the SSFECLA cycled gain mediums. The weave under her skin fed energy into the apparatus and the device threatened to overload and detonate. The monumental weight of her burden started to collapse her systems; the dark infinite void of blackness that made up the rest of this harsh Universe pressed down. It would be so easy to let go, let the device explode, and vaporize the city block. Then it wasn’t her problem anymore... and it would be so easy… Why were people like this?
  
  The device wound down as Lilian all but exhaled steam. How many steps did it take to kill a Beast? A God? It didn’t matter, she just needed to keep working through the steps one by one, until there was freedom from Samsara. Step one: Get these clowns in order and turn them into functioning members of society. She paid their impromptu taxi his dues and thought about how to get her rouge team back to the office without incident.
  
  Lillian stuck her right hand into her pocket and swaggered onto the scene with as much arrogance as she could muster on a Monday morning. She took stock of the scene. Oh. Vicki was here. That made things easier. The rockstar’s penchant for dating Changers let her see through Lilian’s disguise once already. She could just excuse themselves an- Who the hell was that? Emma's face stared at the blonde-haired stranger. Was he? The second one, in as many weeks? It presented a unique opportunity to gather data. ‘New plan’ She cleared her throat, “Miss Vortex, thank you for agreeing to offer your assistance with our training exercise today.” She tilted her head slightly, a silent plea for the rockstar to play along. “I assume these are acquaintances of yours?" She handed a business card to the three strangers, it read, ‘Emma Montgomery, Parahuman Talent Agent.’ Her phone number was on the back. "If any of you care to join today’s training, I’ll make sure you’re duly compensated.” Only the blonde one needed to join but there was no harm in a little icing on the cake. “In this scenario, the Peacemakers will be seeking to suppress their target with ZERO collateral damage.” She shot Tik and Tok a venomous glare, "We'll allot five hundred dollars maximum, any more than that and your team immediately fails." She looked down at Pistolero's hand which was still extended, in an offer for 'some skin,' she made no effort to return the gesture and he kept it that way just long enough to make it awkward.
  
  “Holy shit.” Pistolero looked around with sudden clarity, “I didn’t eat breakfast!”
  
  She took a deep breath, one step at a time, “Can someone get Pistolero a coffee and an everything bagel.”
• Tok hated this, being a hero was supposed to be glamorous and easy. That line of thinking was why his brother and he ended employable by only one agency in the city. It looked good at first, HELP had one highly profitable team under their belt and was looking to start a second. He cast a glance back at Emma, she had a kind smile on her face, but her eyes bored into his soul.
  
  "Well, have at it."
  
  'Right,' Tok's fist was clenched so tight that it was nearly paper white, "Tik, Tok, get ready to Clock Block!" His power roiled out from him, a slowing effect encompassing the vandal and white-haired fashionista. His brother picked up Pistolero and started to run a figure eight while the Blaster rapidly fired off shots into the slowed-down space.
  
  Lilian couldn't help but cringe, she would have to schedule a PR meeting for those two, do some rebranding, and maybe think up some less juvenile catchphrases for them. "Brutus, let them squirm for a bit. Then you're free to join in the fun if you so choose, nothing too over the top though, wouldn’t want anyone getting maimed, now would we?" Her ocular implant began to record the fight in front of her as she took out her phone and began to type out several notes, "The blonde one is of particular interest."

 

[Lord Saethos]

• An L.A. Cafe
• U.S. Bank Tower, L.A.

• A Cafe, Los Angeles, California: March 20th, 2045, 7:50am
  
  Richard watched as Chizuki dashed off into the cafe, wondering briefly if perhaps she had a history with paparazzi? Maybe she was a famous author or something? Did seem a little odd though that paparazzi would be sneaking around to take pics of an author. But her comment was correct, the three seemed to be pointing now at Vicky and Ezra. Strange...
  
  Vicky began inquiring about who they might really be watching right now.
  
  “What about you, left behind any grieving, vengeful friends and family lately?”
  
  "Lately? Well if I have, I can't say I have much sympathy if it was lately." His mind wandered to last night as he smirked and took another sip of coffee.
  
  Richard turned his gaze beside him as Chizuki returned, and notably coughed as he swallowed the wrong way. That was an.... Interesting choice of attire. And no shoes to top it off too. He averted his gaze and turned back to the paparazzi as he attempted to cool his cheeks.
  
  Only a few moments later, the paparazzi finally decided to approach them, and... Well, that was disappointing. They were some kind of lame Super Team, and one of them was noticeably VERY out of it.
  
  Richard chuckled a bit as he leaned back a bit more relaxed in his chair. This was all a little annoying, but at this point probably harmless. Maybe if they just went along with these antics, the guys would scurry off and mind their own business.
  
  “Emmmmaaa,” the out of it one slurred.
  
  Now his gaze turned to two other figures who approached, a woman and...
  
  Richard's eyes narrowed on the giant that followed behind her. He didn't want to make any assumptions, but something about him was off. Very off.
  
  Firstly, he was two feet taller than he was, at least. Secondly, even among most supers, that wasn't a very common attribute.
  
  As Tik and Tok performed their 'Clock Block', Richard pushed his chair back and stood up, approaching the woman and the giant, creating a slight obstacle between them, and Ezra, Vicky, and Chizuki.
  
  "Big friend you've got there. He supposed to be some kind of mentor? Cause he looks more like a... Bodyguard or something?" Richard took a sip of his coffee as he rapped his fingers along the left pocket of his black jeans.
• US Bank Tower, Los Angeles, California: March 20th, 2045, 7:50am
  
  Moore grimaced slightly at Cadence's words as she began to pre-emptively offered to simply release the Kitsune. Frankly, he had no idea what she was going on about, especially now seeing the chaos that had been caused, the bodies that lay strewn about. Was she seriously going to try to let something this dangerous just walk out of here?
  
  Regardless, he wasn't sure there was much point arguing that. Maybe she had another plan, or maybe she genuinely thought it was a good idea.
  
  It'd be on Moore's head, but he'd have to survive long enough to worry about that later first.
  

  
  ___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________​

  
  As Sibyl, Avery, and Moore reached deeper into the containment area, a figure began to become clearer as he approached them.
  
  Peter looked over at the SINS guard Avery had kicked in the head. Was hard to tell at first glance whether he was dead or not, but Peter simply turned his attention back at the group in front of him.
  
  "You make a very compelling argument to our supernatural friend here. Telling her you're gonna free her while sending armed guards after her." He nodded to the guard on the ground.
  
  "Truly remarkable conflict resolution skills! I mean I almost believed it too! Little weird you told her I need to be 'contained' though, kinda makes us sound... Disunited? Kinda puts on a weak face for SINS don't ya think?"
  
  He turned his attention back to Avery for a moment. "Nice kick by the way, I think you mighta killed that dude. You ever kill anyone before Avery?" He grinned.

 

[XianaEvermor]

Exonerate?​

Cadence's voice echoed through through the fog, parroted by the FoxFire that had had been accumulating more and more frequently around them.

Untenable Promise.​

Kindle's voice rippled back through the facility towards them with a note of contempt. The FoxFire flared to a deep ruddy red as Peter made his entrance, silhouetting him in an ominous light.

"They had their chance to be reasonable," her voice whispered into Peter's ear from... somewhere. "I'm content to burn it all down but do as you will," she breathed into the other.

For a moment it looked as though she might interfere, but the skittering shades retreated into the fog, and the living shadows animating the Shamblers evaporated with a hiss, releasing the survivors. They collapsed into heaps, drained of color and strength to a man but still living. The FoxFire had stopped hunting, and seemed to be content to drift lazily near the edge of the confrontation, occasionally illuminating a shade. Hundreds of silver eyes peered at them from just beyond the light, encircling the group at a respectable distance.

"You're no use to me in shackles Mr. Radovan... don't forget your promise."

 

[Fate0013]

---

---

"Uuuh, what's going on-?" He didn't really get the chance to finish his sentence though. In his lack of attention to the situation and increasing confusion over what exactly was happening. Ezra soon found himself slowed down. Like he was trying to move underwater but the water was thicker. He appeared to be thinking at his usual speed though and quickly caught on to the multiple light projections coming at him from... well, everywhere.

Ah. Powers. I'm being attacked. Feels like an excessive use of force for some graffiti. He shook his head and let out a sigh that was drawn out from whatever was slowing him down. Not feeling like having to replace his current outfit or repair a body riddled with burns and holes, Ezra resigned to the fact that he would have to fight back.

Which was most certainly one of the things Widget had told him NOT to do. Oh well~

Even in the de-accelerated field, Ezra's eyes began to glow. A similar light emanated through his shirt as electricity surged inside him faster and faster by the second in real time. Sparks and electricity arced across his body rapidly. Unnaturally quickened by his own powers. It all accumulated until he was wrapped in an aura of pure ionic energy.

The energy bolts might as well have fizzled on contact with the vastly stronger energy field. That was . . . . Rather disappointing actually. Ezra wasn't an expert on powers or how they worked, but a part of him was hoping that one of the blasts would maybe knock him out of whatever was slowing him down. But they barely even registered against his aura. Might as well have been shot with a handgun.

Now I gotta make my move. Time for the glowing octopus with too many legs. . . . Widget's right, I really need a peter name for this one.

A little faster now with the help of being ramped up now, Ezra pulled his wire covered hands out of his pockets and began to unspool more from his hidden rig. Thin metallic tendrils snaked out of his cloths and flowed outward as if alive. As they moved past his aura's base level of emission, they too became shrouded in energy, effectively expanding his aura's reach. Dozens of electrified wires began to reach out towards his attackers.

Ezra made sure to keep the output just right so that a touch could knock out a grown adult while still keeping his aura intense enough to keep the blasts at bay.

『 Lord Saethos MisoraUni CabbageAngel Sepokku 』​

 

[The_Rockening]

Los Angeles, California: March 20th, 2045, morning.
​

Scourge stood by Lilian as her faithful bodyguard whilst she briefed the heroes on their objective. A practice session! This should be amusing, Scourge thought. It was then that Lilian pointed out a ‘Miss Vortex’, and sure enough - beneath the trenchcoat that was far too big for her was his favourite rockstar. He resisted the urge to greet her, though he couldn’t quite hide the pop of his yellow eyes behind the shades. He'd need to ask her for his jacket back.

"Tik, Tok, get ready to Clock Block!"

Scourge cackled, his eyes squinted into slits. ”HEH HEH HEH, Clock Block,” the big green man amused himself, completely oblivious to Lilian’s revulsion.

"Brutus, let them squirm for a bit. Then you're free to join in the fun if you so choose, nothing too over the top though, wouldn’t want anyone getting maimed, now would we?"

”UHHHH, No, Ma’am! Brutus is a GENTLE soul. I would NEVER want that… Ever,” Scourge replied, his posture stiff and straight. A part of him whispered to go out and crush the weaklings. Make this interesting. Turn this into a real fight. Watch them kneel, and sob, and beg… but it was not what Lilian wanted. So he watched, whilst Tik, Tok, and Pistolero engaged their sparring partners. Until one of said partners waltzed up to him and Lilian instead. Scourge’s eyes fell upon him. He was a small one. Tall for a human, yes, but lean, with a face soft as a baby’s. And he knew babies taste best.

"Big friend you've got there. He supposed to be some kind of mentor? Cause he looks more like a... Bodyguard or something?"

“I’m a math teacher,” Scourge quickly replied, with a tone flat and unlike his previous words. ”I work out to RELIEVE the stress. You ever TRIED teaching high schoolers calculus?!” His eyes narrowed into a glare. ”It’s murder.”

Scourge’s attention briefly turned back towards Ezra, the blonde vandal, enveloped in light that writhed, dazzled, and crackled across wires. Scourge eyed him carefully, watching him move with unexpected speed. Lilian mentioned him to be of ‘particular interest’. Scourge wasn’t sure why yet, but… there was a scent about him. A scent that became more familiar as lightning singed his flesh…

Scourge looked back to Richard. “You know, it’s three against two out there. By my COUNT, you should pitch in and help. Make it FAIR,” the giant suggested with a tilt of his head. “Trust me. I’m a math teacher.”

 

[CabbageAngel]

» Vicki Vortex

『 TAGGED 』 [ Lord Saethos MisoraUni Fate0013 Sepokku The_Rockening ]

“Miss Vortex, thank you for agreeing to offer your assistance with our training exercise today.”

“What?” Vic said, pen and CD in hand (she’d signed it instantly without question – pure instinct). Were you telling her that sunglasses and a trenchcoat were not an adequate disguise? How did all these strangers recognise her? A moment longer of listening to the new blonde talk and eyeing up her gargantuan companion, and it connected. The way she spoke and held herself, right down to her micro-expressions: these people weren’t strangers. Vic squinted at them from behind her sunnies and chewed up the words on her tongue. What are you guys doing here? It’d be a pleasant surprise if it wasn’t for her other company.

“On it,” she answered Lilian’s request for a coffee run and evaporated. A rush of wind burst open the café’s doors and Vic’s heels stumbled to the counter before her body appeared. “Hey, can I get a…” Huddled away from the counter was a wide-eyed barista on the phone to the authorities, hurriedly relating the events transpiring right outside. Vic looked around. Half of the customers were abandoning their avocado toasts to flee before the place went up in smoke and other half were flooding the window with their phones out. Yep. That’ll be about right. Vic kept her attention out the window with them. Hey… that was unfair. Unleashing energy blasts on the zombie was one thing, but Chizuki? What the hell, Lilian. She was just a civilian. Someone should do something about that.

…

Richard. Vic shrugged and jumped the counter.

code by @Nano

 

[MisoraUni]

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  All black with 2 white vertical stripes: Longline sports bra, Yoga pants, a matching set.

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
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  Los Angeles, California. March 20th, 2045. A quaint cafe.
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
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  Mentions/Interactions...

  
  
  
  

  Lord Saethos CabbageAngel Fate0013 Sepokku The_Rockening
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

Yukisa

-----

“Richard, there’s no shoes for a reason.” she stares at him straight in the face after he nearly choked on his coffee from seeing her change of clothes. She was very clearly dead serious. A second after the stare, came a slight smirk, and a “hmhm.”

Her smirk then disappeared as the peculiar arrivals approached them, stopping Vic in her tracks as she tried to walk away moments earlier. Something seemed a little off about Vic’s initial encounter with the woman that had approached them. ‘Do they know each other?’ Yukisa cocks her head to the left ever so slightly.

Yukisa then takes a look at the rather significantly larger fellow following behind the woman. She looks up and down the length of his guise. He was completely covered in clothing, not an ounce of skin showing. That seems rather odd to Yukisa as the day is only getting hotter. ‘How could he possibly stand being that covered up?’ Yukisa shakes her head slightly at the attire of the burly figure.

“Miss Vortex, thank you for agreeing to offer your assistance with our training exercise today.” The lady then hands out a business card to Yukisa, Richard, and Ezra. "If any of you care to join today’s training, I’ll make sure you’re duly compensated.”

Yukisa takes the business card with a loose grip in between her pointer and thumb finger of her right hand. She looks at the name on the front which spells out Emma Montgomery, flips it over, and raises her right brow slightly. “Training session?...” Is it even legal for her to do this? She wonders if it would be a bad idea to join in, but Yukisa hasn’t used her abilities in a little while and does desperately want to freshen her reflexes.

Yukisa glances at Emma. “I’ll partake in this. However… you need to move any civilians out of the way first. We wouldn’t want them to get hurt now would we?”

A moment later, Yukisa slides the business card into a random small pocket of her backpack, and from that same pocket pulls out a hair scrunchie. She zips the pocket closed and places her backpack back onto her table. Then her hands make their way up to her hair, and she flips her hair through the scrunchie loop a few times, causing the hair to swish back and forth and shine in the sun's rays. After her hands slide off of her hair, a scar behind her left ear is able to be seen, it stretches and curves slightly to the nape of her neck, a total length of about 3 inches.
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Yukisa watches as Ezra sparks up his powers at the initiation of Emma’s little trio of heroes. Although, could that drugged guy really be considered a hero? ‘Why is he so high?...’

Yukisa just stands still watching Ezra have at the trio for a little while to survey their abilities. It appears one of them is making the area around himself slower which encapsulates both Ezra and Yukisa. Ezra’s wired insides start stretching outwards with electrical currents going towards Tok who is slow-ifying the area, oddly enough the wires did not appear to be slowed thanks to the sheer amount of energy coming from Ezra. That was definitely an interesting power he had.

Tik starts running around, at an inhuman speed with the final member on his shoulders. The one on the shoulders starts to shoot plasma blasts out of his hands into the slowed area.

Since the area was slowed, it wouldn’t be easy for Yukisa to dodge any of the plasma bullets. So instead her body completely turns into a compacted form of snow, the type of snow likened to slush, it’s more of a heavy type of snow. Any plasma bullets that came her way, simply passed through while her body regenerated after. She was however taking careful steps so that her head wouldn’t be hit, dodging just enough so that any bullet trying to contact her head just barely whizzed by.

It didn’t appear that the blaster was aiming at anything in particular. He himself didn't seem to have much mobility so Yukisa thought that she should reposition herself in order to get to Tik who is holding him up and running around.

Nothing was actually keeping her from escaping the slowed field. Her snowy body morphed into a more fluffy, weightless type of snow. She then floats upwards in the snowy cloud of her own body and escapes the slowed radius.

Now, hovering in the air, Yukisa eyes the two that are making laps around Ezra and Tok in the middle. She wooshes herself more towards the ground, making sure to keep her distance from Tok and the slowness emanating from himself. Tik and the other guy were running a perimeter around the slowed area but not directly inside of it.

Yukisa compacts her arms and grows them into snowy tendrils, then she hastily reaches out to trip Tik over.

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[draconicheart]

US Bank Tower, Los Angeles, California: March 20th, 2045, 7:53am​

Avery stood her ground as a figure emerged from the hallway before her; she kept her body tensed, ready to spring at any moment, but she wasn't dumb enough to try that yet. As much as part of her wants to.

His footsteps and voice doesn't just reverberate around the sterile hallway, but seemingly bounces around the corners of her skull as well. It crawls into all the places where she had shoved away any unsavory dealings to rediscover at a later date, making them rise to the surface of the back of her mind like bile. The deep grey that seemed to emanate from his very persona was back and clouding her vision - usually the colors that paint her field of view are rather decorative, mere tricks of the light that aren't distracting in the slightest. However, Peter Radovan's layers atop each other in a smoky obfuscation.

This fog was accented with a deep red that seemed to flare to life behind him before drifting away, leaving only the grey. She decided to lay low for the first part of the conversation, the spirit's voice echoing through the hallway leaving red reverberations that proved shocking even through Peter's haze. Avery stood her ground through it all, but chose to hold her tongue. This part was not her fight, she was just following orders.

(... Was she? Who even are these people? When the fuck has Avery ever taken orders from some guy she's just met? This whole situation was so odd and uncharacteristic. So, maybe she got some good vibes from the sisters and Moore, but look at where that got her: staring down some cat-spirit-monster-thing and whatever the hell Peter Radovan is. She's in way over her head, jumped right into the deep end of the pool when all she's ever known was the shallow, and now she's flailing for a sense of clarity. Fuck, she needs a goddamn break after this.)

Of course, Peter Radovan's attention snaps to her. A predator smelling blood in the water at the slightest hint of her losing composure. If she had her mask this wouldn't have happened. She doesn't have to think of keeping her composure evident on her face in that thing. Or maybe if she had her shitty MP3 player and turned the music up so loud it would've blocked Peter from ever crawling inside her head. Both of these things were still in that goddamn duffel back upstairs. Unless the weakness he caught was a shift in her body language - maybe some micro-body-language-bullshit where she shifted ever so slightly to one side - whatever. It doesn't matter now. What does matter is that he's grinning like the cat who ate the canary.

"Nice kick by the way, I think you mighta killed that dude. You ever kill anyone before Avery?"

Avery frowned, instinctively opening her mouth to send off an indignant retort, when the air filled with a dark hiss as the encompassing shadows faded away, revealing the living husks that once embodied the alien figures they fought against. The one Peter was near was the one Avery had stomped into the wall, pale visage seemingly exasperated by the streak of crimson that flowed down from his head.

Avery's mouth grew dry. She didn't kill him... did she? She looked at the crumpled pile of man and felt an odd chill run down her spine. The man had no discernable signs of movement. She should go check his pulse or something, get some help, but Avery remained rooted at the spot, eyes glued to the man. What if he was dead? What then? The thought brought out a queasy ball of anxiety from the depths of herself that she didn't like. Peter Radovan had opened up one of the boxes in the back of her mind where she kept all of the thoughts and feelings she didn't want to deal with and began tossing the junk over his shoulder.

Avery thought back to all the other guys she's fought before. Her main strategy had always been to hit them hard and fast, and she had never bothered to administer any sort of first aid or call emergency services before. She thought back to all the other crumpled bodies she's seen, guys so thoroughly beat up their blood painted the walls and floor and her clothes and God, she didn't bother to see if they moved or breathed afterwards. Had she not killed before? The question never crossed her mind as deeply as this time. It had always been an obvious no, but thinking back the answer seems so, so uncertain.

Well... Even if she had... She didn't mean to, right? Right?

Doesn't that count for something?

She was twelve again, in the kitchen of her family home, hearing the sharp thump of a pile of papers being thrown against the kitchen table. Her mom groaned, leaning back in her chair and rubbing her closed eyelids with her hands. She was still in uniform; she had just gotten off work and was tired. This was always the worst time for her to get any sort of news.

"Avery, I don't care if you're trying to get better. You need to do better - and I'm not fucking seeing it."

She's standing again in the basement of a weird government office building with a pile of bodies of people she may or may not have killed, not that it matters if she tried to or not - just that she might have - and she's twenty four. She's twenty four, but she still feels so small and so stupid and she's still waiting for her mom to scream and yell at her and maybe then she'd wake up.

She thinks she might pass out.

Interactions

Lord Saethos

 

[Sepokku]

• Los Angeles Cafe March 20th, 2045
• Terasaki Budakon, Downtown LA, California, November 20th, 2038
• Tik/Tok/Pistolero La Cafe, March 20th, 2045

• Lilian frowned at the man approaching her, taking careful note of his features, her eyes pouring over him. With her heels on, he was shorter than her. “In case you haven’t noticed your demeanor isn't exactly welcoming cupcake; if I needed a bodyguard, it’s cause people like you.”
  
  What did this stranger want from them? He seemed to be focusing his attention on Scourge. If the two of them got into a fight, it would certainly end up with the giant revealing his identity. Tik could probably move the newcomer off of them long enough for them to leave, but that risked further escalation. Scourge spoke before she could decide on a course of action.
  
  “I’m a math teacher,”
  
  Emma’s borrowed shoulders relaxed as ‘Brutus’ explained his profession. She looked over the black-haired man’s shoulder at the scene unfolding behind him, the blonde one was exhibiting some sort of Sýrmakinesis. “If you don’t want to be part of the exercise, then you’re free to stand aside. This assessment is part of a vital mission for my shareholders and I’d rather not have the board of directors on my case.” Her attention returned to the stranger in front of her, their arrival had provoked him somehow. No, he didn’t care about Emma, ‘So Scourge... Does he know him?’ The less those two interacted the better. Her eyes darted down to the stranger’s hand as his fingers rapped along his leg. Practically all of the smartphones in the area alerted her that the police had just been dispatched; one hundred and fifty seconds or so until their arrival.
  
  “You should pitch in and help. Make it FAIR.”
  
  “And, if you’re not interested in my B-team, maybe you’d be willing to show me a few things?” Lilian looked to the bottom right of her field of vision, focusing on an icon of a rose in the corner of her HUD, it started flashing. “You carry yourself like someone who’s been in a few scraps.” Taking off her blazer, she handed it to Scourge and began to roll up her sleeves, “That sort of calmness that only comes from assurance of skill.” Rolling her shoulders she locked eyes with the black-haired man, “I'd wager it'd be worth both our time.” One of her feet raised up behind her until it almost touched her hip and she took off one heel, then she raised the other foot and took off the other; he was only barely taller than her now.
  
  “A quick unarmed match on a Monday morning, no better way to get to know someone, you know... Unless you're scared.” Her stance relaxed, her dominant foot sliding back slightly so her center of gravity was held slightly behind her waist. Her hands remained open and her gaze slowly widened until it wasn’t focused on anything. “If you win, I’ll tell you a juicy secret pertinent to the events of March 12th, hot off the LA tabloids.” Her voice was quiet, barely audible over the din of fleeing cafe customers; but seductive with the power it implied, “And if you lose, you owe me a favor.”
• She barked out a cough as the air was driven out of her lungs by the force of her ribcage colliding with the mat. Lilian lay there on the ground, stunned for a moment that seemed to stretch on longer and longer as she struggled to breathe. They’d been coming here more often as the deadline approached.
  
  “Are you okay?”
  
  The answer caught in her mouth as she exhaled, “Ye- Yeah.” Emma’s gentle frowning face watched her as she pushed herself into a sitting position. “That technique?”
  
  “Irimi Nage.”
  
  “...And where did you learn all of this?”
  
  “Grandmaster Saito. This was my dojo before I became a Talent Agent. A former student and current client runs it now.” Emma’s perpetual frown seemed to deepen as she examined Lilian. “I don't expect you to remember everything I teach you, but you need to be able to-”
  
  Lilian furrowed her brow and hastily stood up, “I keep my promises!” She assumed a traditional stance and balled her fists, “Once more.” She made a mental note that for the first time since she met her, Emma looked almost happy.
  
  “Try to keep up your training… You know… Without me.”
• As the citizens began to flee, Pistolero found himself with his hands full of avocado toast he had snatched from the nearby tables. He tried to remember to take shots between bites but was only having marginal luck in that aspect. On Tik's eighth loop he managed to snag a half-full chai tea latte and began to slurp it down. A stray wire snaked towards the duo, forcing Tik to step onto a chair and jump off a nearby table, it clattered to the ground as the two soared through the air. Pistolero dropped his stolen latte, several tears running down his face as he failed to grab it out of the air. Tik's feet made contact with the ground once more, he took three steps before they were swept out from beneath him by a freezing mass of white.
  
  Pistolero flew off the Mover's back, the sensation of flying through the air oddly serene. Whatever was in that jeffery he smoked, something in it made time feel like it had slowed down, giving him more than enough time to aim at the center mass of whatever had tripped them. Holding up both hands, he fired rapid shots of energy from both of his index fingertips. A cry emanated from his lips at one-fifth speed, "Aaaaadddddiiiiiooooosssss!"
  
  Tok's expression turned towards slight horror as he watched his brother trip, sending Pistolero flying into his field of slowing. He dropped the effect, dropping the Blaster out of the air and onto his ass. Several wires snaked from the Blonde and directly at Tik, who had crashed into a wall and dazed himself, "Yo!" The slowing effect expanded around the Vandal again, spreading out as much as possible without catching anyone else in it.
  
  Tik watched the wires creep towards him and start lash out to strike him, then he remembered he was under attack. Scrambling to his feet, he darted to his brother's side, he could see Pistolero wildly unloading shots of greenish yellow energy at both their assailants. There were wires coiled to either side of the Blaster's feet, "Pistolero, look out!"
  
  He turned around, "For what?" The wires danced around his legs at a slight distance before constricting all at once and sending a surge of electricity through its victim. His unconscious body remainder standing for several seconds before its muscles stopped constricting and collapsed onto a nearby table.
  
  The brothers looked at each other, desperation evident on both of their faces. Swallowing the lump in his throat, Tok suggested, "Hot coffee?"
  
  "I'm not really thirsty."
  
  "No... The ice girl, dump boiling hot coffee on her. I might have a plan." His brother nodded and sped into the cafe, a few moments later he returned to Tok and shoved several rolled-up rubber mats into his hands, in the other hand, he had a metal pitcher of steaming hot coffee. "You're going to need more than that."
  
  "I'll make a few runs." Tik sprinted towards the icy parahuman at an angle and flung the coffee at her, without losing momentum he turned slightly and sped past her back into the cafe to grab another pitcher. Tok ran around their quarry, doing his best to put her between himself and the vandal.

 

[Sepokku]

​

• US Bank Tower: March 20th, 2045

• “Au contraire.” Cadence raised her interlocked fingers overhead and stretched as she yawned, “The armed guards are here for you. None of mine have harmed her host.” She gestured to the soldiers in her psychic link as her head dropped, her hair hanging around her face as she stared at the ground, “Agent Moore gave you orders and your very presence here is in defiance to them.” Her thumb pressed against the back of her index finger and it let out a pop, “Seems to me like you’re the one making us look disjointed. And in front of the new blood too.” To punctuate her sentence she cocked her head slightly in Avery’s direction.
  
  “I liked your scary story earlier. You ran off without giving me a chance to tell mine.” She pressed against her middle finger, letting out another muffled crack. “Mine is a little longer than one word, though, so bare with me.” Another knuckle let out a crack to punctuate her sentence.
  
  Emiri dispassionately set the scene, “During World War One, the German and British troops were locked in a deadly stalemate outside of
  Mons Belgium. The dangers of diseased trenches and suicide charges into no-mans land forced the two sides to a begrudging stalemate.”
  
  Sophia spoke in a soft sorrowful voice, “Then one day the British started experiencing a dramatic rise in fatalities. Their soldiers started being found in No-Man’s Land torn to bits, with lacerations that could only have come from an animal. Bayful howling could be heard from sundown to sunrise. The Allied forces named the mysterious assailant the Hound of Mons.” The canine let out a chuff and began to scratch its ear with its back leg.
  
  Anima snorted as she scratched the back of her head. “Then a few weeks later? Kaput. Things go back to normal. The Hound disappears. Mass hysteria, the Allies claim. There never was a Hound. Except… There was a Hound.” She dropped to her knees and ruffled the dog’s ears. It was bigger than it had been a moment before.
  
  Danielle smiled without warmth as she introduced their guest, “The Hound of Baskerville, Churchyard Beast, Hergest Black Dog; it’s gone by many names, may I introduce you to the only pet the Director approved out of our one hundred and seventy-two requests?” Dark-colored fur began to blur as the space around it danced and contorted while the Hound grew even bigger.
  
  Each of the sisters held out their hands as they spoke in unison, “Amarok, the goodest boy in America!”
  
  Sibyl placed a hand on Avery's shoulder, the sounds of the basement melted away in her head, replaced by a quiet melody pulled from the calmest part of her mind, 'Avery, you're twenty-four, you're in the basement of the US Bank Tower, and we can't afford you getting panicked right now. Close that can of worms until we're out of the shark tank. Don't think, trust your instincts.'
  
  Cadence pursed her lips and whistled, Amarok flickered and was suddenly gone, his heavy panting echoing throughout the containment room. Every agent in the room took a ready stance, "At your command Agent Moore."

 

[Lord Saethos]

• An L.A. Cafe
• U.S. Bank Tower, L.A.

• A Cafe, Los Angeles, California: March 20th, 2045, 7:50am
  
  Richard smirked as his gaze went from the big 'math teacher' to the woman. "Does someone in your line of work often find themselves in need of bodyguards to protect them from Heroes? Cause I usually find, in my line of work, there's a very few types of professions that would require that." His tone was light, but the look on his face made the undertone of sarcasm and suspicion clear to 'Emma'.
  
  While the tall one tried to deflect suspicion, the woman soon 'stepped between' them figuratively, trying to overpower the conversation to direct it in the way she wanted. All that fear about the 'shareholders', but she had time for a street fight?
  
  Did she think he was stupid, or blinded by the encouragement of a fight?
  
  For whatever reason, she seemed intent on protecting her friend who clearly didn't need it, and was showing an uncomfortable amount of attention to Ezra behind him. What exactly was she doing? Maybe she was some kind of government operative, trying to reclaim some super soldier? Or maybe a villain who was sent to kidnap Ezra for some reason?
  
  Either way, she seemed to be spoiling for a fight, and Richard wasn't sure he'd be able to simply side-step her towards the big guy.
  
  Richard felt uncomfortably exposed for some reason. Realizing that the fight had broadened to include Chizuki, there was a sense of urgency, to keep both her and Ezra protected, which was clearly not going to be easy if Emma and the Big Guy tried to take him on at the same time.
  
  Apparently their slowing-field had dissipated, and the high one seemed to be laid out on a table now, but the two remaining ones had decided to start chucking coffee at one of his new acquaintances.
  
  "You two:" he called behind him. "You better stop doing that really quick or that coffee's going straight into your lap's next." Richard shot them a glare for a moment before turning back to Emma and the Big Guy.
  
  He took one step back, planting his feet to the ground as he rose his fists in a fighting stance.
  
  "You've got me at a bit of a disadvantage here Emma. I don't like fighting women as a matter of old chivalrous principles. Not unless they're REALLY evil or something. Since I'm gonna be taking it easy on you, might need more than just that juicy tidbit about Atlas City. Might need you to tell me about you and your friend." He smirked as he readied himself to fight.
  
  Meanwhile...
  
  Across the street, a man dressed in camo pants and combat boots, as well as a loose hoodie, looked on at the scene in what could only be described as a mix of abject horror and hatred.
  
  He'd witness most of what had occurred. After all, he'd been in LA for about a week or so now, keeping his eyes out for 'suspicious things'. But it wasn't the zombie, the ice supers, Vicky Vortex, or the atrocious 'Clock Blockers' who caught his attention.
  
  It was the eight foot tall guy.
  
  His eyes were wide as he thumbed a red bandana in his hand, before slowly wrapping it around the upper arm sleeve of his jacket.
  
  "Infirmum, perversum, abominandum. Quantumcumque ardemus, quantum purificamus, pestilentia mala remanet." He muttered quietly to himself as he anxiously groped at his jacket, comforting himself with the small sense of certainty he could gleam from it.
  
  "Vive, vel mori: ego te in infernum vel viam ducam."
• US Bank Tower, Los Angeles, California: March 20th, 2045, 7:50am
  
  Peter felt a slight shiver run up his spine as he heard the words of Kindle in his ear. Not a shiver of fear though.
  
  Excitement.
  
  He chuckled to himself at her last words, lingering in the air for a brief moment.
  
  Anyone who had that chance had missed it. No... The time for shackles was long past now.
  
  His gaze flicked over to Avery, as the smile widened on his face. "Oh... OH! Look at her! I think I traumatized the poor thing! Oooooh Avery you poor, sweet summer child! It's alright, it gets WAY easier after a bit. Not all of us are born with the knack, most gotta learn it. But don't worry. I'll teach you."
  
  The Sibyl Sisters soon interjected. His eyes moved between each as they told their own part of the story, before finally introducing the canine that joined them.
  
  Amarok.
  
  As the large (and growing) hound disappeared into the darkness behind Peter, and more guards filed in, firearms raised, Peter's smile disappeared.
  
  Agent Moore finally turned to Sibyl, Avery, and the remaining guards. "Agents: You have permission to detain and arrest Agent Radovan. Non-lethally, preferably." Moore's eyes narrowed at Peter as he continued to clasp the metal object in his hand.
  
  He pulled a handkerchief out of his jacket's breast pocket, and tucked it into his pants. He then proceeded to remove the grey jacket, so that now his grey vest, white dress shirt, silver tie, and pistol holster were on display.
  
  Peter silently rolled up his dress shirt sleeves to just under his elbows, and then removed his .50 caliber pistol from the holster.
  
  His eyes met with each of the Sibyl sisters, face emotionless for a moment. He then removed the slide from the pistol, and rapidly began to disassemble the firearm.
  
  "I'm not gonna shoot your pet dog." He muttered with a smirk, pulling out the magazine and ejecting every round onto the floor, before dropping the clip with it.
  
  "But fair warning. If one of you shoots a single bullet at me, I'm going to kill everything inside of this building. And when I'm done, I'm gonna kill every living thing in Southern California next."
  
  Peter reached behind his back, and the next thing he pulled out was a hatchet. He threw it against the concrete floor, the head somehow embedding itself shallowly into the stone, enough to be stuck, handle pointing up in an angle. Peter gripped onto the handle, and placed a brown leather shoe against the head, giving a few tugs until the wooden hilt came loose.
  
  Tossing it around so the portion of the handle that was embedded in the head was now held in Peter's right palm, he waved the thing through the air like a makeshift wooden sword.
  
  "I'm gonna take it easy on all of you, don't worry. Wouldn't be fair otherwise." He cackled to himself.
  
  A team of guards moved in closer, rifles down, now instead armed with a series of stun rods and cuffs. Many of which were designed for detaining supers.
  
  Peter snapped his fingers as a sudden realization came to him. "Oooooh, before we get started, y'all ever hear of Roxy Music before? Not all of their tunes are to my taste personally, but... There is one in specific that I just can't get out of my head! It's lively, energetic, just a lot of fun!"
  
  His eyes grew wide as his lips parted in a wide, open mouthed grin. "So let's have some fun."
  
  The guards pushed forward, swinging their stun batons down or across. Peter grabbed on mid-fall and quickly slammed it against the face of another guard, bringing his foot up and slamming it into the chest of the baton wielder he grappled with. There was an uncomfortable, pained cough as the guard felt the searing pain of bones cracking. The other guard, stun baton planted in his face, screamed in pain and fell backwards.
  
  Peter swung the hatchet handle into the jaw of another, with another sickening crack, and a spray of blood and what appeared to be lost teeth. Another guard attempted to flank him, but Peter spun away, as if in some kind of ballerina twirl, releasing the wooden handle from his hand and letting it soar straight into the face of the flanker. Another spray of blood as it appeared a nose broke, and he dropped to the ground.
  
  "Come on now guys, I'm not even warming up! HIT ME!!!"
  
  Three of the stronger, braver ones, charged at Peter, dodging swings from his fists, and managing to get a swing near to his head. Before it could connect, he'd already grabbed the arm of one.
  
  "Isn't it common sense to keep your distance from wild animals?" He said gleefully before lifting the guard from the ground, and slamming him to the concrete floor, back first. A sickening gasp escaped the guard as the wind was knocked from him, and his head swam in dizziness. Peter pulled his leg back, and sent a powerful kick into the man's chest, sending him skidding across the floor.
  
  Peter's face looked akin to that of a mountain lion bounding after it's prey, mouth open with a perverse glee as it reached within inches of slaughter.
  
  The other guards had begun to raise their firearms at Peter, a few equipped with sedative rounds. Peter had moved fast so far, and powerfully. They weren't sure what they'd expected, but this certainly was not it.
  
  "I told you... No shooting." Peter bolted towards one of the guards, and before a shot could even be let out, Radovan had grabbed the barrel of the rifle and tore it from the Guard's hand. With the rifle now in his left hand, Peter brought his right hand crashing into the guard's helmet, creating a sizeable dent and concussing the guard. Before he fell, Peter brought swift kick with his left leg up to the guard's head, dropping him to the ground in an instant.
  
  As the other guards turned to counter Peter, one felt his face explode in pain as the magazine from the rifle Peter held had been thrown straight into the guard's forehead and nose area. Another guard, closer to Peter, got the buttstock of the rifle planted in his jaw, knocking him unconscious. The guard's best attempts to counter Peter were good. These were not green soldiers, they came with plenty of experience, some of the best weaponry available, AND the strategy of SINS secret weapon, the Sibyl Sisters.
  
  And yet despite all of that, Peter seemed to move faster than they could respond, faster even than the Sibyl Sisters could strategize or predict. In all their years of experience, this was something that almost never happened, and when it did, it was incredibly powerful supers they were facing down.
  
  The guards had been thinned down to only a few standing, along with Sibyl, Avery, and Moore.
  
  Peter turned his attention, and began to approach them, but he was stopped in his tracks when, from the shadows, Amarok leapt into the air and crashed into the Agent.
  
  It's powerful body threatened to knock him down, it's powerful jaws threatened to wrap around him and yank him around like a chew toy.
  
  But the threat was unheeded.
  
  Peter's legs were bent as he braced the weight of the canine over himself, grinning as his right hand wrapped around the beast's muzzle, and his left hand gripped onto the nape of it's neck.
  
  He spun around pushing Amarok to the ground, kneeling on it as he pressed it's head towards the floor.
  
  "HEEL."
  
  His voice bellowed uncharacteristically as he held the creature down, it's mighty form still growing, and struggling against him.
  
  A bead of sweat rolled down Moore's cheek as one palm gripped tighter to his pistol, and the other onto the metal object he held.
  
  "Counter-Offensive plan ladies?" He spoke lowly, instinctively afraid Peter would hear and have his attention brought away from wrestling Amarok.

 

[Fate0013]

---

---

Truthfully the blaster hadn't been that hard to catch off guard. Ezra was growing more irritated by the minute at the slowing effect he was under. He wasn't in the mood to fight. What he had assumed to be a chance at making a new friend seemed to have been scared off by all of this. Lightning began to poor out of his eyes now as the generators in his back began to whirl to life. Despite whatever was slowing him down, he could feel them increasing their output somehow. Good, maybe now was a good time to try and scare whoever these losers were and get out of here.

More wire spooled out from his clothing now, He even began to draw from inside his body. The seams and stitches across all of his joints became visible, more wise shooting out from his hands like a puppeteer's strings. It all began to roil around him in a protective ball, even the strands he had sent out to try and catch the not so dynamic due. Ezra gave a moment to consider if this was overkill . . . . nope. He wanted to leave. so he was going to end it.

In an instant far too fast then anything should move in the slowed space, All the wire snapped inward like it was alive. Every inch of it wrapping his arms and legs like tesla coils. His energy cranked up into an Overdrive now.

Just a few seconds. The Duo seemed to be preoccupied with an . . . ice thing? Not important. he had an opening.

For a second, he became lightning. His galvanized body further accelerated through magnetic propulsion.

Kicking off the ground. one step, two steps. that's all it took.

He stood between Tweedle dee and Tweedle dum, an hand gently resting on the two. "Either of you know how much electricity it takes to knock out a pair of idiots" The grin that cracked across his face could be considered feral with all the electricity illuminating it. He gripped the both of them just a hair tighter. "You're about to find out. Right now."

ZAAAPP!

The two dropped like a sack of bricks. Even if their shoulders were smoking from the direct contact, Ezra was able to tell they were still alive. One headache finally over with. Ezra brushed his hands together and turned to take in the rest of the people present. "Am I done Here?" His slightly irritated voice rang out over the crackling of energy that continued to shroud his body and the now mechanical hum of his twin generators.

His energy was spiking now and would slowly begin to permeate.

 

[The_Rockening]

Los Angeles, California: March 20th, 2045, morning.
​

Whilst Lilian addressed Richard with an offer of her own, Scourge's eyes honed in on Ezra, and the smoking bodies of Tik and Tok right next to him, the scent of their singed flesh driving his guts to rumble. His eyes squinted with a chuckle as he grunted. "Ok. My math needs work."

Scourge stepped back, watching as Richard took on Lilian's challenge… albeit not without a scoff at his notions of 'chivalry'. "Ohhhh, you're gonna GET IT, pretty boy!" He shook a brick-sized, meaty fist as cheered, "Give him what's-what, EMMAAAAA!"

The Giant man plopped down on one of the outdoor seatings. The impact of his glutes drove the surrounding furniture to rattle loose from their bolts and topple over. He turned back to Ezra and Yukisa… and Pistolero still shooting randomly at anything but the two heroes. He gave the former two a thumbs up, exposing his unnaturally green pallor.

"GOOD JOB. I'll give you guys an A. A MINUS," he decided, gesturing at Pistolero behind them with a head tilt.

…All whilst he remained completely oblivious to the hooded man gibbering across the street.

 

[XianaEvermor]

Kindle watched with audible glee as Peter thoroughly dismantled the agents. Her mischievous giggles echoed through the fog as Peter took down one after another with nothing but a bit of stick. Thrilling... she couldn't stay silent.

"Why hold back?" She whispered into his ear. "You're nothing but a tool to be used up and discarded to them," she breathed into his other. "If they think they can't control you... they'll think you're too dangerous to have running free..."

Don't hold back
Free yourself
Kill them
Go on the attack...​

Kindle's voice echoed through the void, leaving tumultuous whispers of "Do it" and "Kill them" all around the arena, punctuated by her malicious laughter. Though it did quiet down, and suddenly at that, as the multitudinous silver eyes darted towards the ceiling at something only they could sense. Kindle pondered this familiar energy distractedly as it thrummed against her skin through the reinforced walls. Like shooting off a flamethrower in a cold room... a beacon in an otherwise barren astral sea. She couldn't tell where it was from inside the tower... all the eyes locked onto Cadence intently. Time to wrap this up then...

"What are you waiting for?" Kindle whispered into Cadence's ear from... somewhere. "He's a dangerous, out of control monster" She breathed into her other. "Isn't it your job to put down monsters? Together you're stronger than he is..."

"Don't let him get under your skin," Kindle whispered into Avery's ear. "He's all bark... aren't you faster than him? Take a deep breath and go..."

"Are you going to let that slimy snake intimidate you?" Kindle whispered into Moore's ear. "A disobedient animal who can't follow orders. Aren't you supposed to be the one in charge here? He's making you look incompetent. Go on and shoot..."

"Lethal force is authorized, open fire!" Shouted Moore, pointing at Peter with his pistol just as the whispers were subsiding. "Kill him quickly, while he's tied up with Amarok!" Agent Moore stood next to himself on one side of Sybil, assertive and chest held high with his pistol aimed at Peter. In his free hand he secretively clutched an item. One of the remaining agents flinched. "He's a menace that must be stopped! Put him down and you'll all be heroes!" The arena punctuated the tension with dead silence, and all of the hundreds of luminous silver eyes began to pulsate hypnotically.

 

[Sepokku]

• Los Angeles Cafe March 20th, 2045
• Some distance away from the Cafe, Los Angeles California, March 20th, 2045

• “Does someone in your line of work often find themselves in need of bodyguards to protect them from Heroes? Cause I usually find, in my line of work, there's a very few types of professions that would require that.”
  
  The rose icon on her HUD stopped flashing and disappeared. “So you’re a Hero yourself? You must be. Only Heroes have such narrow logic.” Lilian’s shoulders rolled in the relaxed shrug she’d seen Emma do so many times before, “Heroes make enemies. People like me inevitably become targets for those enemies. We’re only human, after all, so much easier targets than a parahuman that can potentially disintegrate one with a look. Regardless of who, it hurts the hero’s image if they can’t protect someone, even if that someone was just an intermediary like me.”
  
  The B-team’s last members collapsed as the blonde-haired person of interest surged forward in a wave of ionized air. It was impressive, and confirmed her suspicions. She would have to speak with that one eventually. Maybe Vicki could introduce the two; Where exactly had the rockstar gone?
  
  “I don't like fighting women as a matter of old chivalrous principles. Not unless they're REALLY evil or something. Since I'm gonna be taking it easy on you, might need more than just that juicy tidbit about Atlas City. Might need you to tell me about you and your friend."
  
  Lilian’s smile split into that cocksure grin Emma got before every fight, “Well, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but corporate America is about as evil as it gets. I’ll still agree to your terms though, not like you’re going to win this one.” Her hand reached into her pocket and produced a golden coin, “We start when the coin hits the ground.” With a practiced flick of her thumb, the coin rose into the air for a single second, hung there for half a second more, and then began to fall. It would reach the ground in… two… one…
  
  The coin clattered against the ground at the exact same moment that Lilian lurched forward. Her hands clapped together close to her head as if she was praying, her face only inches from the man’s fists; in the same movement she shoved her hands forward, in between his raised arms. His fists collided with the side of her head and ribcage, but she was too close for him to build up enough force to deal real harm. Her hands separated at the last second so that they were holding either side of his head and without wasting a breath she drove her knee straight upward into his face. As soon as her knee made full contact she extended that leg so that her foot pressed off his chest and launched her backward into a flip.
  
  Her left hand touched the ground as her momentum turned into a handspring and righted herself a few feet away from her opponent. “It’s not wise to take a stance before you know how your enemy fights.” She put her fists up and mimicked him, “Holding yourself as such isn’t ideal against an enemy who grapples.” She relaxed again, turning her body so her left side was facing him, most of her weight on her back right foot. Exhaling, she put her hands together at waist level, her right on top of her left; they tensed as the hand on top held them both in place, “You seem like someone with military training. Taught to strike fast and hard; but in a way designed for someone carrying around pounds of extra gear. Not at all practical for a street fight.”
  
  Her opponent bristled visibly. She was getting under his skin. It seemed a bit premature, maybe he was having a bad week? She tensed slightly as he exhaled and rubbed at his nose, blood had started to trickle from either nostril, likely due to her knee colliding with his Sphenopalatine Ganglion. The California sun suddenly seemed to stop beating down on her back. The temperature dropped and her opponent rushed forward. He threw a haymaker and her right hand moved slightly, causing her left hand to fly up, wrist connecting with his fist. The next move was to slide that hand forward along his arm until she had access to his throat, but her hand didn’t move. A layer of ice connected her wrist to his. “Really?” She tried to pull her arm loose, but the ice held her fast. “What happened to no powers?”
  
  He didn’t respond; instead, he grabbed her arm with his free hand and threw her into the ground. As she fell, her body twisted so she’d land on her side and the compression of her ribs would soften the landing. While falling, a small window opened up in the corner of Lilian’s field of view, it was a different perspective of the same scene her own eyes were already relaying to her. A man stood behind her maybe a block or two away, wearing a red bandana around his arm. She quickly realized she was seeing the feed from Rokket’s helmet.
  
  “BRUTUS!” Lilian hit the sidewalk and swung her free arm out, extending her index finger so that it pointed behind her at a sixty-degree angle, “GRAB HIM. RED BANDANA.”
  
  With a snarl she ripped her iced-over hand away, skin came off as she did. With a dirty look to her opponent, she hooked her leg around his, rolling so she pulled him to the ground while simultaneously sitting up into a pseudo-Seiza position. A single step of Shikko put her almost at arm’s length from her enemy, the crook of her left knee still wrapped around the crook of his right.
• Rokket dropped their knee onto the back of the mugger they had just apprehended, he was still struggling slightly so they rapped him on the back of his head with one of their metal gauntlets. The thug stopped moving and they slipped the cuffs onto his wrists. Rokket looked up at Mould who had just finished explaining things to the police and getting paperwork filed away.
  
  The police radios went off simultaneously, each one reporting that another crime was in progress at a cafe not far from there. Mould turned towards his companion and watched as they nodded. The duo turned to leave. They had only made it a few feet when Rokket received a distress beacon from their employer. Mould sighed and turned towards his partner, “Go on ahead, I’ll be there as fast as I can.” His teammate nodded and the boosters around their calves flared into life as they took to the sky.
  
  Rokket grabbed one of the spears attached to the backpiece of their armor and darted through the air in Emma’s direction. People were fleeing. Whatever crime was in progress it had evidently dissolved into chaos. As Rokket closed the distance, Mould relayed information to them, “Emma has the Peacemakers with her, along with an unidentified extra. Her vitals suggest she is engaged with the enemy, but in no immediate danger. Move with caution.”
  
  Rokket’s approach slowed as they surveyed the scene. Emma was engaged in a fistfight, typical of the battle junkie employer, Rokket often wondered why the boss was even in this line of work; she looked so much more comfortable cracking skulls. From the eagle-eye’s view, one could notice someone wasn’t fleeing the scene. Quite the opposite, he was reciting what seemed like a hymn, in a language Rokket didn’t usually hear in this day and age.
  
  Rokket landed right behind the figure with a red bandana tied around his arm. The bright purple full plate that covered the hero glinted in the sun as they addressed the praying stranger, “Purificamus,” The voice was an exact echo of the stranger’s, which was a far contrast from the next words, which sounded like a child’s. “Oublier tout ca,” A robotic and automated voice finished the sentence, “Alea iacta est.” The helmet tilted slightly, face underneath making an expression that no one could see. The stranger’s vitals were going crazy. His pulse rose as he was addressed, mild perspiration started up, he was nervous, not scared, and not fleeing. Why? The voice changed yet again, into the contemptible sneer of one of the gang members that had just been arrested, “Lo siento.”

 

[Sepokku]

​

• US Bank Tower: March 20th, 2045

• "Counter-Offensive plan ladies?"
  
  “Nothing has changed.” The sisters spoke in unison, their voices echoing across the link. “Insistence on nonlethal force practically guaranteed this scenario. We could have buried this site and rendered all of this unnecessary.” Each of the sisters felt more than a little alarm as Peter grabbed Amarok and dropped him into the ground.
  
  "What are you waiting for? He's a dangerous, out of control monster. Isn't it your job to put down monsters? Together you're stronger than he is..."
  
  The voices danced through Cadence’s head, the barest echoes of the Fox's words barely managing to read via the psychic connection. Whispers through the wall of conscious thought crept around the mind and began to spread into the psychic link. Anima frowned, they could kill Peter. She could probably get partway there on her own, and Danielle would follow up and finish the job. All it would take was acting with haste.
  
  Sibyl’s mind went into overdrive, the psychic link suddenly overclocked itself as the eldest sister went into a state of panic. Anima dropped to her knees as blood ran from her nose, her left eye suddenly bloomed scarlet as blood vessels exploded from the stress. Sophia stepped forward and caught her sister, “What the-” Her body went limp and folded protectively across Anima’s as she succumbed to the same fate.
  
  Amarok let out a whimper as he failed to snap at Peter’s arm; his cry echoed throughout the sister’s link. Cadence felt a reassuring hand on either shoulder, then a strong confident hand on her head. Sibyl’s voice drowned out all other sounds, “I believe in you.”
  
  Time seemed to slow down as Cadence’s mind burned through the extra processing power provided by her sister’s sacrifice. She put both of her index fingers into the corners of her mouth and let out a shrill whistle, “SIT!”
  
  Their dog grew several inches larger and then shrunk back down to its original size all at once. Emiri raised her palm towards him and yanked the animal towards her. As soon as Amarok was out of range, Cadence fired a psychic shotgun at Peter, the blast ripping across the battlefield.
  
  When her sister let their telekinetic energy fly Danielle funneled all of their telepathic energy into the link. Avery’s power ramped up, and each individual in the link could suddenly perceive coloured sound as she could. It was hard to produce all of the false sensory input required to extend Avery’s synesthesia to everyone. Still, thanks to Sophia’s sacrifice, Danielle was more than capable of parsing the input to everyone.
  
  Agent Moore snapped back to his rational self, the Kitsune’s auditory illusion suddenly showed bright violet due to their shortened wavelength. The SINS agents came to ther senses only a moment later and locked their sights back on the rogue agents they had come to apprehend. They opened fire, rubber bullets and containment foam directed in a perfect deluge towards their assailants. Not a millimeter of action was wasted as Sybil perfectly directed the onslaught.
  
  “Now for the coup de grace.” Cadence dropped to one knee as she funneled energy to one part of the link.
  
  “Cadence!” Emiri grabbed her sister and hugged her tight to her chest, “Don’t be a hero!”
  
  ‘Blitz them.’ Avery’s mind went blank for half a nanosecond, then it sharpened into perfect clarity, time seemingly irrelevant. The entirety of the Link was suddenly at her disposal. Her Mover ability activated and displaced her slightly, only to have psychic energy fling her in that direction with a seemingly unstoppable vector. Just when it seemed she’d collide with a wall, another telekinetic platform launched her in the opposite direction.
  
  Moving with a speed that seemed disorienting, Avery would find herself casually soaring through the air with ample time to plot her movements. Furthermore, her already fatal ability to displace energy now had a spacial quantity to it that tore through matter.

 

[Lord Saethos]

• An L.A. Cafe
• U.S. Bank Tower, L.A.

• 
  
  
  ​
  
  
  A Cafe, Los Angeles, California: March 20th, 2045, 7:50am
  
  Add Stuff Here
• 
  
  
  ​
  US Bank Tower, Los Angeles, California: March 20th, 2045, 7:50am
  
  Add Stuff Here

 

[draconicheart]

US Bank Tower, Los Angeles, California: March 20th, 2045, 7:53am​

Avery, you're twenty-four, you're in the basement of the US Bank Tower, and we can't afford you getting panicked right now. Close that can of worms until we're out of the shark tank. Don't think, trust your instincts.

Fuckin' easy for you to say. She's not sure if she thought it moreso to herself or to Sybil - or even if Sybil just heard it. A small part of her winces at the reaction.

Bitter, melancholy feelings twisted in her gut - the solemn snake removes the tail from its mouth to bite. Anger alights her nerves like venom, spreading until her fingertips spark. A sheath of light radiates from her body in a few centimeter thick atmosphere, steadily shifting in slight hue and transparency like an aurora of white hot anger. She clenches her jaw until its sore, presses her fingernails into her palm until it draws blood.

Man... Fuck Peter Radovan.

"Don't let him get under your skin, he's all bark... aren't you faster than him? Take a deep breath and go..." Fuck. You.

"Lethal force is authorized, open fire!" Avery's eyes snap toward the old man.

... And fuck you too.

Bullets started flying, the dog moved, one of the sisters said something - she's not really paying attention, nor does she really care in the moment. Avery felt a pressure behind her eyes and she hunches over, cradling her head in her hands, the pressure building, building until - Pop. Like air pressure regulating in your inner ear on a car ride into the mountains.

Every nerve in her body is on edge. Her hands can feel the air particles around her arms as if they were grains of sand. Her vision becomes crisp, as if she was previously viewing the world in a much lower definition.

She still feels The Sisters in the back of her mind like they are watchers. Standing in the back of a room, taking notes. Expectant.

She doesn't like this feeling. Part of her wants to reach crack open her own skull, reach into her mind, dig around until she reaches whatever they curled up in the back of her brain and yank it out-

She stumbles, and teleports several feet in that direction in a flash of lightning. Sparks alight and arc off of her skin in waves. She feels like a livewire.

There's a metallic taste in her mouth and she feels like she wants to scream.

A force pushes her - throws her - towards a wall in agonizingly slow motion. She can tell she's going much faster than that, though. The wind isn't as refreshing as it usually is. It cuts.

She instinctively hopes the impact with the wall will snap her neck. She's stopped short, and the disappointment fades just as quickly as the impulsive thought before she can register either as troubling. Instead, she's flying through the air.

She could do whatever she wants to here - supposedly. She gets that. She locks eyes with the sister (Danielle? They all look alike. There's several on the floor though. That's vaguely troubling, but unfortunately she's overcome by a sense of ennui that overpowers any regard of empathy or concern in the moment) and while she knows she's going too fast for her eyes to register her clearly, Avery can feel the hopefulness radiating off of her. They've set her up. She just needs to spike herself. She's at once the hitter and the ball.

She looks at the rest of the scene before her (she has ample time to do so). Feds firing guns. And... goo. Or whatever. The dog is away from Peter. That's good. He looks fine; normal sized now.

Peter stands there, at the apex of the onslaught. Avery is behind him. He has a casual slump to his shoulders, but at the same time his back is rigid. Hands low. She can't see his face, but his head is turned ever so slightly, as if listening for something behind him.

Of course - he knows.

Peter Radovan has an air about him similar to that of a nuclear bomb. She doubts that whatever they're doing down there is enough to stop him. If anything, it might be enough to make him blow up.

Still though - the guy wanted a fistfight. He said no guns. I mean... Yeah. He punched a dog. And he's freaky. But a vague sense of sympathy-mixed-with-dread ebbed in her chest. Not that she doesn't think he can handle it, though.

Yeah, she could try to hit him with all she's got - all they've given her. But she doesn't want to do that right now.

She looks over towards the sister and Moore again. Don't tell me what to fucking do.

Avery teleports several feet forward, towards Peter, towards the others - but not at Peter. In fact, it almost looks like she might collide with some random agent for a moment, all of her momentum still carried over... Until her legs hit the ground and she swings her body, feet placed in a wide stance. She spins on her heel, right foot digging into the ground and the soles of her shoes leaving skid marks on the ground. She braces herself, body lunging forward, leaning on her bent left leg - and she comes to a stop. Hands splayed out shoulder-width apart.

Bullets reach a seemingly mundane threshold a foot away from Peter Radovan and clatter to the ground, lifeless. Their impact sends a ripple of yellow light across the barrier Avery threw up. It's... Not what Avery was expecting, but she doesn't always plan things out fully anyways. It's much bigger. Floor-to-ceiling, wall-to-wall, several inches thick, it ripples with bright orange crystalline energy; the intensity of which Avery manifested it caused it to overestimate the space needed, corners digging into the ceiling and walls. Usually, her shields are much smaller than this. Guess this is what happens when you're on super-steroids or whatever.

She's in front of Peter Radovan, breathing heavily. God, she can feel her body screaming at her through the sister's psychic buff. Her muscles are tense, stiff with the effort of manifesting the barrier. Still, though, she's unwavering.

She looks at the man - thing - mere inches away from her. "Guns... To... Knife... Fight... Not good," she manages to get out, with her pants punctuating each word. She pauses, and seems to collect herself a bit more.

"I... Am not you."

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