MisoraUni
Artist | Just a lil silly but mostly sleepy
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Futuristic H A D E A N
- Thread starter Lord Saethos
- Start date
Lord Saethos
Dark Lord of the Saeth
US Bank Tower, Los Angeles, California: March 20th, 2045, 7:50am
As the sister's spoke out their assessment, Moore let out a heavy sigh. "Yes, and your discretion of not destroying the entire building is greatly appreciated girls. That will look favorable on your report." He chided slightly, but also intended for them to understand that he was genuinely grateful for the attempt to minimize damage and casualties.
Moore felt himself stiffen as an unnerving voice whispered into his ear about killing Radovan. No, that was not the plan, but that seemed to be thrown for a loop a moment later when he heard his own voice call for lethal force.
He turned to face his doppelganger, his jaw setting firm as the sister's called for Amarok to return. A moment later, his vision became more colorful, as the copy of himself took on a purple hue. An illusion.
With a smirk, Anton turned away from the fictitious being, and watched as Sibyl worked their own magic. An onslaught was propelled directly at Agent Radovan, and if it didn't stop him, it would at least slow him down while further backup arrived.
......................................................................................................................
Peter was a little surprised when the dog had expanded then shrunk a few moments ago, and as his eyes followed the trail of the beast, he watched as the sisters prepared another attack.
Kindle spoke in his ear again, urging greater violence, to kill. He chuckled slightly, but said nothing.
If he wanted them dead, this would already be over.
No, childish as it might seem, Peter Radovan liked to play with his food.
He watched as the sisters launched a psychic blast at him, and the guards a volley of rubber bullets and containment foam.
Well... This was going to mean showing off more than he had intended.
Before it reached him however, a wall of yellow erupted in front of him as Avery, who'd been soaring around the room just a moment ago, landed in front of him.
His eyes dropped from the Sibyl sisters and Moore, and now rested squarely on Avery.
Peter watched as she strained from the exertion of her powers, his eyes narrowed, calm. "Miss McCulloch..."
He rested a hand on her shoulder. "I am the gun in this fight."
The hand patted her on the shoulder as he stepped closer. "And let me dispel something for you."
Now the hand glided across her shoulder, and to her neck, before fingers wrapped around it. Peter lifted her off of the floor with one arm, pulled her closer so he their eyes were directly across from each other.
As Avery dangled there, she felt everything change. All she could feel was... Emptiness. A void. Something that was supposed to be there, but wasn't? Or perhaps something that wasn't supposed to be there, but was? A strange presence of an absence, and an absence of a presence.
The sensation made no sense, it was nothing she'd ever felt before, and yet it was so strangely familiar, something that lingered in the back of the mind, and in the body, but went unnoticed. An instinct that was dealt with perhaps without thought.
Everything in her vision changed. She was no longer seeing the illusions of Kindle, or the inside of the containment zone of the US Bank Tower.
Now she gazed upon fields of blood.
Bodies strewn about, their innards torn apart like a mass of ribbons and streamers, splayed out like a ticker tape parade in celebration of the worst kinds of evil and debauchery the human mind could muster to the imagination.
Most of the bodies were unmoving and dead. Some were different.
Some were charred and burnt. Others mutated and deformed.
What was this? Where was this? When was this?
"There is no one like me." She heard whispered in her ear.
The visions of death disappeared, and she was once again looking into the eyes of Peter Radovan.
Peter was smiling softly, but his narrowed eyes spoke of a sort of confident, animalistic sense that the fight was already over.
"Shouldn't have interrupted your friends. I was gonna enjoy all that. But... I suppose there's still fun to be had today."
He pressed Avery's body against the shield she had created, which began to dissipate as the two walked through it.
Avery felt her body go limp and the pressure on her neck release as she flew through the air and crashed into Emiri, both collapsing to the floor.
With incredible speed and agility, Peter leapt over the foam and sprinted towards his opponents, dodging from side to side to avoid bullets and other attacks, before finally reaching his target.
Cadence felt her breath catch as a hand slammed into her throat, and she was dragged from the floor and into the air.
As her eyes adjusted to look at Peter, she saw that his right hand was wrapped around her throat, and his left hand....
Held his Pistol.
Looking over to where it had been lying on the floor before, she noticed it had disappeared. Every part and piece he'd disconnected had simply vanished. As had the bullets.
"Waddaya say Moore? I'd call this checkmate."
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XianaEvermor
New Member
"Sugoi!" Kindle clapped slowly as she stepped out of the fog. "This is normally where I'd say 'Tell me why I should spare you,' but I think the moment for pithy dialogue has passed," she grinned, trailing a finger first along Cadence's shoulders and then Peters as she circled them confidently. "Mr. Radovan seems to think you're all worth keeping alive for some reason. I guess that's okay... for now," she explained, sauntering over the prone agents to kneel down in front of Moore. She lifted his chin with a finger to glare directly into his eyes with a fanged smile.
"If you come after us again...," Kindle trailed off, touching a mote of vibrant red FoxFire to Moore's sleeve. The flames spread, and with a thump of ignition half his suit jacket was aflame in the blink of an eye. She let him go roughly after holding him for an uncomfortably long moment. Moore let his jacket slide down his arms and back, and onto the floor, where the flames hungrily turned the article into ash... and then continued to burn hotly unabated even though its fuel seemed to have been spent. He turned his gaze to Kindle, expression blank, and perhaps the calmest look he’d given since entering the facility. Moore held a stiff upper lip, but she didn't miss the trickle of sweat down his temple, nor the momentary furrow of his brow. Kindle's grin widened.
“I hear what you’re saying. And I’m not the one you need to be afraid of. Neither are they.” He then nodded his head in the direction of Sibyl and Avery.
“Choose your enemies carefully. Choose your friends even more carefully.”
"It's not about friends and enemies, Mr. Moore. It's about who can keep their promises. I'll be in touch, love," she chirped at Peter, taking a long draw on her pipe. The fragrant smoke she exhaled lazily curled around and she seemed to dissolve into it. The unnatural fog, shadows, and darkness retreated swiftly after her to the soft patter of fox feet. Lights flickered back on hesitantly and they found themselves deep inside the containment vault, far away from the ballast door they had come through.
Helene drifted on the edge between dreaming and sleep, vaguely aware of the bodies drifting past. Her eyes fluttered open, and after a long while of staring numbly into space, squinting at the piercing light, her vision slowly came into focus. She found herself on a bench beneath a tree. A carpet of finely curated grass stretched out before her, framing in neat geometric plots of roses in every color of bloom. She inhaled slowly, swishing the cotton taste of medication through her mouth and wincing against the pinprick sensation throughout her body like her skin was stretched far too thin. A heavy weight resonated through the bench, as a tall, muscular form flopped down on it, causing her to flinch.
"Ah! Finally, you're awake!" Achilles chirped, with his mouth full. Helene found one of his trunk-like arms in front of her. At the end of it, a greasy food stand hotdog piled high with onions, relish, mustard, and ketchup. The smell made her stomach turn, and she gently pushed it away. "Sure? Sssweet," he hummed, cramming the rest of his hot dog noisily into his mouth and flopping a cold bottled water into her lap.
"At least-"
"GO TROJANS!" A passerby shouted from several rows over. Achilles stood up energetically, pumping his fist in the air.
"CRY HAVOK!" The passerby whistled and cheered. Helene squinted at him for a long moment as he sat back down.
"I'm famous," he explained cheerily, after he caught her gaze, hot dog half in his mouth. "I've been patrolling the area while Ladon and the dogs keep watch. Everyone knows who I am here! The street merchants shower me in this wealth of food and drink, and many of the local citizens have asked me to pose for their capture devices. I even signed an autograph! Clearly my legend precedes me," he chirped proudly. A hint of amusement twisted the corners of her lips, and Achilles chuckled giddily. "What's so funny?"
"Nothing..."
"Kindle and Bubbles are... OUT," he gestured. Helene's gaze followed his hand, and she turned her green eye to see Fox and Tiger piled atop one another in her Astralform. "You'll have to get their account after they wake up," he explained as she cracked the lid on her water. It carved a chill path through her insides as she drank. "Kindle left you a note though."
Helene's eyes flicked downward, where she caught sight of an out of place red maple leaf with an arrow scrawled roughly on it. Her gaze followed the arrow Westerly, where she squinted at a brilliant plume of... Mana? It was in the distance, a fair few miles away but stood out brightly in crackling gold and teal against the otherwise tranquil Astral background.
"I think I know where we're going..." she trailed off.
"Great! Shall I call our steed?
"No. I think we've attracted enough attention for the time being."
"If you come after us again...," Kindle trailed off, touching a mote of vibrant red FoxFire to Moore's sleeve. The flames spread, and with a thump of ignition half his suit jacket was aflame in the blink of an eye. She let him go roughly after holding him for an uncomfortably long moment. Moore let his jacket slide down his arms and back, and onto the floor, where the flames hungrily turned the article into ash... and then continued to burn hotly unabated even though its fuel seemed to have been spent. He turned his gaze to Kindle, expression blank, and perhaps the calmest look he’d given since entering the facility. Moore held a stiff upper lip, but she didn't miss the trickle of sweat down his temple, nor the momentary furrow of his brow. Kindle's grin widened.
“I hear what you’re saying. And I’m not the one you need to be afraid of. Neither are they.” He then nodded his head in the direction of Sibyl and Avery.
“Choose your enemies carefully. Choose your friends even more carefully.”
"It's not about friends and enemies, Mr. Moore. It's about who can keep their promises. I'll be in touch, love," she chirped at Peter, taking a long draw on her pipe. The fragrant smoke she exhaled lazily curled around and she seemed to dissolve into it. The unnatural fog, shadows, and darkness retreated swiftly after her to the soft patter of fox feet. Lights flickered back on hesitantly and they found themselves deep inside the containment vault, far away from the ballast door they had come through.
[Exposition Park - Los Angeles, CA - Some Time Later]
Helene drifted on the edge between dreaming and sleep, vaguely aware of the bodies drifting past. Her eyes fluttered open, and after a long while of staring numbly into space, squinting at the piercing light, her vision slowly came into focus. She found herself on a bench beneath a tree. A carpet of finely curated grass stretched out before her, framing in neat geometric plots of roses in every color of bloom. She inhaled slowly, swishing the cotton taste of medication through her mouth and wincing against the pinprick sensation throughout her body like her skin was stretched far too thin. A heavy weight resonated through the bench, as a tall, muscular form flopped down on it, causing her to flinch.
"Ah! Finally, you're awake!" Achilles chirped, with his mouth full. Helene found one of his trunk-like arms in front of her. At the end of it, a greasy food stand hotdog piled high with onions, relish, mustard, and ketchup. The smell made her stomach turn, and she gently pushed it away. "Sure? Sssweet," he hummed, cramming the rest of his hot dog noisily into his mouth and flopping a cold bottled water into her lap.
"At least-"
"GO TROJANS!" A passerby shouted from several rows over. Achilles stood up energetically, pumping his fist in the air.
"CRY HAVOK!" The passerby whistled and cheered. Helene squinted at him for a long moment as he sat back down.
"I'm famous," he explained cheerily, after he caught her gaze, hot dog half in his mouth. "I've been patrolling the area while Ladon and the dogs keep watch. Everyone knows who I am here! The street merchants shower me in this wealth of food and drink, and many of the local citizens have asked me to pose for their capture devices. I even signed an autograph! Clearly my legend precedes me," he chirped proudly. A hint of amusement twisted the corners of her lips, and Achilles chuckled giddily. "What's so funny?"
"Nothing..."
"Kindle and Bubbles are... OUT," he gestured. Helene's gaze followed his hand, and she turned her green eye to see Fox and Tiger piled atop one another in her Astralform. "You'll have to get their account after they wake up," he explained as she cracked the lid on her water. It carved a chill path through her insides as she drank. "Kindle left you a note though."
Helene's eyes flicked downward, where she caught sight of an out of place red maple leaf with an arrow scrawled roughly on it. Her gaze followed the arrow Westerly, where she squinted at a brilliant plume of... Mana? It was in the distance, a fair few miles away but stood out brightly in crackling gold and teal against the otherwise tranquil Astral background.
"I think I know where we're going..." she trailed off.
"Great! Shall I call our steed?
"No. I think we've attracted enough attention for the time being."
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Sepokku
A Menace
Cadence’s breath caught in her throat, despite that, the vice grip Peter held around her neck went largely ignored. With smoldering bewilderment and barely contained rage, she stared at Avery. Low growling emanated from Amarok as he bristled and snarled, Danielle’s fingers buried into his fur to keep him from sprinting forward. A psychic projection of Sibyl interposed between Cadence and her ire's target; “It’s over. Just calm down.”
“I am calm,” Cadence’s icy voice echoed across the link, and in response, Danielle and Anima’s brains began to work at a speed that was almost painful. The sweet embrace of unconsciousness became their only solace. All power that had been diverted to Avery was shifted back to the sisters. Emiri’s eyes creased into a frown as she watched her sister.
With a flick of her wrist, the release mechanism on Peter’s pistol was depressed and the clip fell out of the gun; Emiri’s hands outstretched as it flew into them. Scarlet began to flow from Cadence’s nose and time seemed to slow down, “Just a little more,” Using her depleting reserves of power she wrapped telekinetic force around the trigger of Peter’s gun and squeezed. Each fraction of a second passed like it was wading through honey; the bullet exploded in slow motion as it barreled forward. Telekinetic earplugs protected her eardrums from the worst of the concussive energy of the gunshot.
Sibyl plucked the bullet out of the air as it left the barrel of the gun, the twelve and a half millimeters of ammunition floated in a circle around Cadence’s head. With surgical precision, she created a telekinetic choker underneath the hand Peter had around her throat, it swelled in size slightly until his hand was no longer touching her skin; at that exact moment, Cadence put both of her hands on his wrist and tied them together with telekinetic energy. Despite no longer being held off the ground, Cadence's feet didn't touch the floor. Emiri‘s free hand reached up and grabbed a gun out of the air, she closed her left eye and drew a bead on Peter's forearm. Amarok braced itself for action and awaited commands.
“Not checkmate, stalemate,” Cadence coughed out. “But he’s correct Agent Moore, the anomalous individual has fled. Our mission is over.” Her mouth quirked up into a smirk as she locked eyes with Peter, "And I like being choked, but buy a lady dinner first."
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Fate0013
King of Sorcerers and Warlocks
While still accelerated, Ezra took in the scene before him given that nobody seemed to be addressing him outside the huge man who seemed enthusiastic about the current chaos. Richard was busy fighting the strange woman that had helped enable the current mess.
She also kept lookin in his direction and some part of Ezra did NOT feel comfortable every time she did that. Her [colors] appeared very sharp and cold when he tried to focus a bit. Probably best to avoid her.
Wait, where did Vic go off to? looking around, he quickly made his way around the area before checking inside the Café. Sure enough, there she was!
People were crowding the door to get a better look at what was going on. Not a problem though!
Quickly, he re-spooled all of his wire and stopped ramping up his energy. Next, Ezra’s body collapsed like a puppets strings being cut, all of his seams and stitches coming undone in a heap before worming his way past the onlookers legs and reforming on the other-side with surprising speed despite being a daisy chain of wire connected body parts.
Once inside, Ezra moved a few feet next to Vic and finally let his overdrive cut out. The world when back to normal speed all at once, and several jolts of electricity sparked outside and into the store wherever he had went. There were a few confused yelps from the present crowd but nobody seemed to have noticed he had gotten inside or behind them.
A deep sigh escaped Ezra’s mouth along with a plume of steam. ” Woooo, maybe I held that for a bit too long hehe.“ He stretched and groaned. Joints popped as his generators quickly quieted down.
He tilted his head towards Vic with a grin. ” So, we still getting out of here or do you wanna stick around for all of . . . That?“ he motioned outside before shrugging. He was still very much interested in spending time with someone willing to hang out. And if Widget called he could just open his gate and toss the stuff through real quick anyway.
CabbageAngel
these greens eat y o u
» Vicki Vortex
Ahhh, shit. The milk's burned.
Vic ran her hand through her hair with a sigh and threw the scalded milk out. It had been forever since she'd flexed her skills as a barista, not since her days as a starving artist. Granted, she was still a starving artist now, but now she had money and starved. And speaking of being an artist - how long had it been since she made any of that stuff? Art. She lived and breathed music, all these supers had her in a chokehold and rendered her a zombie. The scream of steam cut out the sounds of fighting outside and lulled her eyes to a close. That melody that had been stuck in her head since that moment tickled her ear.
Wilma... will I, will I... Wilma will I... MOTHERFUCKER the milk!
The 200 degree milk shrieked as it was dumped unceremoniously into the sink. It was around that time that one of Lilian's puppets came hurtling through the door and yoinked a jug of coffee off the bar. "..." Vic didn't know what was happening, but she kept replenishing the coffee supply for him to swipe. A big zappy noise exploded outside and the visitor stopped dashing by. Vic cringed. I should probably check that out, right?
No, no, you're making coffee. Finish the damn coffee.
No time later and a string of body parts connected by a wire busted through the door. Vic stared and her milk burned as Ezra joined her behind the counter and the electricity around him fizzled out.
"... Huh?" She said. A beat. Vic scrambled back into motion. "Shit, right. Yeah. Where were we going? Agh! Milk! Again?! Holy hell. Everyone's getting iced lattes." She dumped shots into cups of (iceless) milk, as a man in a business suit approached the counter. "Excuse me, can I get a -" "EVERYONE'S getting iced lattes," Vic interrupted and shoved a cup into his hand, then passed one to Ezra. "Who's betting Richard only takes his coffee black, and the Chizu-something chick is decaf with a squeeze of honey or... shit."
At some point, Vic had forgotten her reason for being back here, and had just autopiloted making everyone a coffee. She slumped back and dug her fingers into her head, trying to massage past her skull.
"Shit, I'm... really stressed out," she realised. She shook her head, bewildered, and scoffed at herself. "Ha." She took a contemplative sip of cold coffee. She was doing a really poor job of distracting herself from this blade of grief shanking her in the back over and over. Tormenting Richard had been a quick detour from it, but as soon as she'd holed herself in here alone...
Her gaze slid to Ezra, unusually focused. She was going to just spontaneously run away with him before. This sudden moment of clarity had her feeling it wasn't the best idea considering all the other kinds of people she'd randomly run away with and the trouble it put her in just this past month. She really didn't want to be drunk and stuck in a room with a serial killer again.
"Seriously. Who are you?" She asked, sliding her sunglasses down with a finger to eye him suspiciously. "I'm starting a screening process for the freaks I hang with. Bad track record. You're undead, right? Like, Evil Dead, orrrrrr... Hell, I don't know. I can't think of any movies where zombies aren't mindless brain munchers. Are you evil. That's what I'm asking."
code by @Nano
The_Rockening
Unlucky Member
Los Angeles, California: March 20th, 2045, morning.
“BRUTUS! GRAB HIM. RED BANDANA.”
At Lilian's direction, Scourge leapt from his seat.
"FINALLY!" The giant zombie bellowed, with a voice that thundered with his steps. The streets cracked and crumbled beneath every stomp. He moved as a glacier, his dash barely a jog. Slow, steady, unflinching, his arms outstretched and muscles swelled as if welcoming the stranger's retaliation...
…And then Scourge snatched the man with both hands - hands large enough to envelop his ribs - leapt up high, hoisted him overhead, and bellowed, "I will POUND YOU..." As the giant launched him back to the earth.
The stranger's body carved new cracks into the concrete. The ringing in his head drowned out everything else. Everything but the sight of Scourge's still-falling form, tilted back with his hands balled into fists, his knees bent… and his thick, well-muscled rear, growing bigger and bigger as it enveloped the man's vision.
"...INTO SUBMISSION!"
A crater erupted around the point of impact, forming spikes of misshapen rock around the perimeter. The air was instantly thickened by dust and debris. Scourge's lumbering silhouette rose to his feet. He looked over his shoulder, his yellow eyes glowing through the fog, towards the flattened body of his foe.
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Fate0013
King of Sorcerers and Warlocks
It’s weird not having memories going back further then roughly 8 days ago but still having knowledge and understanding. Ezra could understand that the situation was weird, he was weird. And that meant he was gonna have to put in effort to come off as something other then the super powered Frankenstein’s monster that he technically was.
”Oh, thank you.” He took the coffee happily, his train of thought bouncing around with the momentary distraction.
Once again he had been excited that somebody of their own valuation showed any interest in spending time with him. But Vic’s apparent willingness to let him tag along with her was spur of the moment. Given how suspicious of him she was now. He didn’t mind being called a freak indirectly, it wasn’t a false statement. But being associated with Brain eating and evil had to be shot down real quick. He visible seemed to slump a bit at the perceived accusation before straightening back up.
” I’m Ezra Stone. I wasn’t always Ezra though. Brain munching though? Gross.” he shoved visibly and shook of the uncomfortable feeling the thought of that gave him.
”As for EVIL, Worst things I get up to are graffiti and the liberal use of the five finger discount . . . Aaaaand knock out those heroes out there. But I think that counts as self defense since they shot at me before trying to detain.”
He held up a finger in the universal “one moment” gesture as he took a sip of his iced coffee. “Wow this stuff is good, I don’t usually like coffee either wow. Oh right, anyways, I’m more of a Frankenstein’s monster sort of deal. Somebody made me. Forgot about me. And then I woke up, uh wait . . . came to life? Whichever.”
Ezra shook his head, getting his thoughts straight. No need to over share with someone you just met Ezra. Just answer the question and move on. ” anyways, I’m just me, can’t remember who this-.”
He motioned to his body. ”- Belonged to first but it’s mine now and I’m just happy to be alive. So no, I’m not gonna eat your brain or strap you to some slab or whatever. Doctors scare me anyway. That and a few other things but I’m told oversharing is rude and I don’t want to make people more uncomfortable then a walking talking reanimated person already would.”
An embarrassed look crossed his face. Drink more coffee that doesn’t taste like crap. Shut your trap a bit before you start rambling. Ugh. Widget was right, socializing is hard. But fun! Unless she decided to just walk away. Please don’t let this be an awkward situation. The music store clerk yesterday was bad enough.
CabbageAngel
these greens eat y o u
» Vicki Vortex
『 TAGGED 』 [
Fate0013
]
Fate0013
]Vic leaned her elbows on the counter, stirring her coffee with a paper straw that was rapidly disintegrating. Her demeanor became more absent as Ezra continued to speak, but she was listening.
"You too, huh..." she murmured at his claims of not recalling his previous life. Scourge had said something similar when she tried to pry through his brain. That Lab Rat had ensured through the reanimation process that Scourge would have... how did he say it, his OWN mind. His OWN memories. His OWN will. The Scourge now was completely different from the meat he puppeted. Just like the reanimated corpse chatting to her right now claimed to be.
Her mind wandered to the memories she possessed on Wilma's hard drive. Seeing through Wilma's eyes herself being knock-out drunk and hoisted to the cab. Drooling on Wilma's shoulder. The vitamins Wilma snuck into her food (that she hadn't known about until prying into the manager's head). The glances Wilma snuck at her back, and the glances she caught from Vic when Vic thought she was being sly. Oh, Vic agonized over how she could only see where Wilma's eyes traveled, and not the commentary track of Wilma's mind. She could only hope all of Wilma's secret looks were in the same way she looked at her.
Then the memories of memories were interrupted by another broadcast and all Vic could think of was seeing her. On live TV. A week after she was dead.
Ezra has a whole ten seconds of silence to contend with and feel embarrassed about while Vic's mind came back - literally, molecules on the back of her head had been drifting into the dust. She resumed stirring her coffee.
"Ezra." She said. Somewhat sharply, like a teacher catching you asleep in class. Stir. Stir. Her next words, as hard as she fought it, had an un-Vicki like vulnerability. "Do you think... there are zombies out there who remember it? Themselves, and living. And... everyone."
"You too, huh..." she murmured at his claims of not recalling his previous life. Scourge had said something similar when she tried to pry through his brain. That Lab Rat had ensured through the reanimation process that Scourge would have... how did he say it, his OWN mind. His OWN memories. His OWN will. The Scourge now was completely different from the meat he puppeted. Just like the reanimated corpse chatting to her right now claimed to be.
Her mind wandered to the memories she possessed on Wilma's hard drive. Seeing through Wilma's eyes herself being knock-out drunk and hoisted to the cab. Drooling on Wilma's shoulder. The vitamins Wilma snuck into her food (that she hadn't known about until prying into the manager's head). The glances Wilma snuck at her back, and the glances she caught from Vic when Vic thought she was being sly. Oh, Vic agonized over how she could only see where Wilma's eyes traveled, and not the commentary track of Wilma's mind. She could only hope all of Wilma's secret looks were in the same way she looked at her.
Then the memories of memories were interrupted by another broadcast and all Vic could think of was seeing her. On live TV. A week after she was dead.
Ezra has a whole ten seconds of silence to contend with and feel embarrassed about while Vic's mind came back - literally, molecules on the back of her head had been drifting into the dust. She resumed stirring her coffee.
"Ezra." She said. Somewhat sharply, like a teacher catching you asleep in class. Stir. Stir. Her next words, as hard as she fought it, had an un-Vicki like vulnerability. "Do you think... there are zombies out there who remember it? Themselves, and living. And... everyone."
code by @Nano
Fate0013
King of Sorcerers and Warlocks
Vic’s question hit something in Ezra. Something he tried not to think about too much. A gnawing question in the back of his mind came to the forefront and bubbles in his throat. Answer her question first. Don’t just talk about yourself.
It was Ezra’s turn to snap himself into focus. He leaned his back against the counter, looking in the opposite direction of Vic and gave it some thought. Actual serious thought. Maybe a minute later he finally got the words together. ” I imagine some do. Might hurt though . . . . Cause like, your something else. And your back! But everyone else might be ready or trying to move on without you. But there you are. And . . . . It could be messy. Maybe they can have a fresh start somewhere else though.”
He tried his best to take a sip of his coffee quietly. Honestly it wouldn’t matter if it was bitter “bean juice”. There was a bitter taste in his mouth already. This kind of stuff never felt good to think about. If there were others like him.
”Sometimes I wonder. . . Nevermind. You don’t need to hear me spilling my guts out.” he took a gulp of his drink this time and tried to keep that question from crawling out his throat. Not now. Not yet. You don’t need people feeling sorry for you.
Ezra didn’t notice the sparks that danced across his fingers for a moment. The ozone getting chocked out by the smell of dark roast. ”This just an idle thought or is this coming from somewhere? It felt right to leave it open. Her choice if she wanted to talk anyway. Drinking more from his nearly empty cup didn’t seem to help get rid of the knotted feeling he was getting . . . . . Oh wow he might have also made a zombie pun moments ago. Good job bonehead.
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Lord Saethos
Dark Lord of the Saeth
US Bank Tower, Los Angeles, California: March 20th, 2045, 7:53am
Peter grinned as Kindle circled both him and Cadence, before moving on to Moore. After she had made her final points clear to everyone, the room began to return to the containment center it usually was, everything suddenly feeling like their was a weight which had lifted.
Moore watched after the disappearing figure of Kindle, before casting his gaze back to Radovan. Perhaps he should have told her to beware of who she accepted promises from, and whom she made promises to.
As the magazine fell from Peter's pistol, and the bullets danced through the air around Cadence. The trigger pulled itself, and the last bullet in the gun floated slowly in the air, picked out of it by Cadence. Emiri now held a pistol leveled at Peter's arm.
The look on his face turned into one of amusement as he listened to Cadence, her fingers clasped tightly on his arm, his fingers clasped tightly on the psychic barrier she created.
"Buy you dinner huh? Is that what this is all about? I swear, women these days come up with the strangest ways of asking a guy out. Could have just asked for my number." He let out a low chuckle as his gaze turned to Emiri, looking from the gun she held, then looking her directly in the eyes..
"And how about you? Are you into choking too? Cause that's a quick way to encourage it."
He turned back to Cadence, her fingers still wrapped around his arm. His lips parted in that 'hungry animal' type way.
"A stalement, huh?" He whispered. "That's pretty cute. But sure... A stalemate."
Cadence felt her grip close around... Nothing.
Peter's arm had entirely vanished from her grip. He hadn't pulled it free. There had been no tugging, no resistance, no fight. It was simply there one moment, and gone the next.
He now waved it freely around as if it had never been between her hands at all. As he did this the bullets that danced around her disappeared as well, along with the magazine that had clattered to the ground.
Peter grinned widely as he pressed the release on his pistol, and the clip (or another clip?) fell from it and into his hand. He let her get a good look at it to see that it was still full, and he pulled back the slide to eject another, unfired, bullet from the chamber.
"Now you..." He turned back to face Emiri. "You better put that thing down before you hurt yourself. Didn't your parents ever warn you? 'You'll shoot your eye out'?"
He began cackling uncontrollably again, tears beginning to well up in the corners of his eyes as he truly lost himself in his utter delight with the moment.
Moore, however, felt considerably differently. Between the Kitsune's escape and her attack (and in some cases murder) of some of the security forces, Peter's following assault on top of it, and now a disintegrated suit jacket, he'd had a pretty unpleasant day overall. And he wasn't going to end it empty handed.
With the object clutched in his hand still, his jaw set firm, he rolled up his sleeves and marched over to Peter.
Peter looked to Moore now, his face still filled with amusement. "Oooooh, someone looks a little peeved! What's the plan Moore? Gonna scold me? Tell me I'm a bad bo-"
His voice was cut off as Moore landed a solid right-hook at Peter's mouth. There was a tiny arc of red droplets that sprinkled across the floor, and Peter reached into his pocket to pull his handkerchief out.
The look on Peter's face was one of surprise, but also giddiness. "Well well well, I didn't know you had it in-" Peter was cut short again, but this time by realization.
As Peter had turned to face his superior, Moore had seen something that sent a chill and rush of anxiety through him, struck by realization. He watched as the split lip he'd given Peter began to disappear.
But Peter wasn't looking at Moore, he was looking at what Moore had wrapped around his right knuckle. A piece of metal, with sharp protrusions, that sparkled with electric energy. Peter's face went from amusement, to a placid one of contemplation, and quickly, as his eyes looked up and into Moore's, into rage.
Moore felt his stomach sink even more.
The lip, which had just begun healing, had begun to split open again. As if 'unhealing'.
Moore finally had his answer. Peter wasn't a Super. He had no idea what Peter Radovan was.
"Agent Moore, I congratulate you. You've somehow managed to do the dumbest thing you could have possibly imagined doing." Peter let the lightly reddened handkerchief fall to the floor as he stood upright and faced Moore directly, nearly toe to toe.
Moore stood stationary, not buckling, but feeling in about as much danger as he had staring face to face with the Kitsune. He didn't fully understand the Kitsune, but... He probably understood her better than Radovan.
The object Moore held, while tiny and seemingly innocuous, was designed to disrupt the powers of Supers. One hit, and a Superpowered Being would be unable to properly use their powers for a short period of time. Typically there was also a strong reaction in the body, convulsions, as if being electrocuted.
There were two types of beings it did not function on:
Regular humans were the first.
The second were anomalously powered individuals. Those in this group represented an unfathomably tiny minority of supers on Earth, those whose powers seemingly were 'supernatural', or 'otherworldly'. An alien likely wouldn't experience a reaction to this. Nor would a ghost. Nor an extra-dimensional being.
The number of beings that fit this category was so small that their was likely only a few thousand (at most) of them on Earth. And the higher likelihood was closer to the low hundreds.
The room began to fill with sound again as the sound of heavy boots hitting the concrete floors drew closer. There were already some guards, those who managed to still be conscious, who watched Moore punch Peter. The others who now entered the room included other security guards, as well as six men dressed in combat gear that was unlike anything most US forces wore.
Six was a lot for Task Force Gray to send in.
Peter let out an annoyed sigh as the soldiers and guards began shouting at them to lay down their arms, and all kinds of other non-confrontational nonsense. He turned his gaze back to Moore and smirked.
Moore stumbled back as Peter landed a right-hook of his own, splitting his lip now too. The agent quickly recovered into a defensive position, only to see Peter turning away from him and towards the SINS guards, as well as Task Force Gray.
"Nothing to see here folks, everything's fine. Me and Agent Moore here had a little disagreement, but we've settled it like gentlemen. This is how we ought to be solving our problems. HR just gets in the way and muddies everything up." Peter chuckled as the soldiers drew closer.
"Radovan, Moore: Where is the target?" One of the Task Force Gray soldiers asked through a voice piece in their helmet's environmental mask.
"Gone unfortunately, because of this-" Moore began.
"Unfortunately, containment protocols were insufficient folks. Me and my team TRIED to deescalate and recontain, but certain interruptions prevented this." Peter nodded his head in the directions of Moore, Sibyl, and Avery.
The Gray Agents, despite their faces being covered, seemed unamused. "Perhaps it would have been worth considering installing a kill switch in your containment units for exactly this reason." The one Gray Agent responded in a monotone, but the underlying message was one of great annoyance.
"Well sorry to bother you all with this." Moore responded as he dabbed at a little blood on his lips. "You're free to return to base, or give chase, whatever your plan is."
The Gray Agent didn't move. "Negative. Other forces will be gathered to begin an investigation. Our mission parameters have changed however. This should have never been allowed to happen. Not one escapee. And my intel is informing me that there's been potentially three."
Moore felt a headache building. "Three?" Did the Kitsune manage to release some others?
"Affirmative. We're determining who exactly escaped still. But it's become clear that there is a serious lack of discipline and proper strategy in SINS. And for that matter, various forces in the United States. That is going to be changing. That is my new mission parameter."
Peter looked a little annoyed at the chiding, but Moore was feeling a sense of concern. Defending America was his top priority, but he wasn't interested in needless casualties. That was part of why he joined SINS, to help make positive changes from within.
Task Force Gray was not designed for that.
"Fan out. Deploy BRD's."
The Six tossed metal spheres onto the ground, and watched as they rolled autonomously into the halls and corridors of the containment center, creating walls of arcing electricity that so far seemed harmless to organics. All of the Task Force Gray soldiers followed behind the BRD's, taking a few of the SINS containment guards with them for additional support.
'BRD' stood for Battlefield Realignment Drone. In other words, a device that allowed Task Force Gray to transform an area they were deployed in to be more suitable to regular human combatants.
At this point, Kindle and Hex were already gone, but the measures would help ensure anything they left behind was made inert.
Nina and Hudson had reappeared from deeper within the containment zone, and the looks they shared with Peter assured him their own mission was accomplished. The three of them, as well as Moore, the five Sibyl Sisters, and Avery, all made their way back out of the containment zone, and towards the ballast door.
CabbageAngel
these greens eat y o u
» Vicki Vortex
Unlike Ezra, Vic relished in making people uncomfortable. A well placed stare, flick of a tongue or pop of her neck could turn the tides of conversation and she'd be sailing. Unfortunately, the conversation with this stranger had grown a little too real, and she didn't think she could relay to him all her woes as blasé as she'd liked.
"Yeahhh... Someone died, actually." Her voice lilted with the news like she was sharing neighborhood gossip. "Ha, don't look so grim. She's better now. That's the awkward part." She grinned, flattening her coffee's straw between her teeth. "I already wrote a song about her. Carry these?"
She shoved a tray of iced lattes into his hands and picked one up for herself. Seven drinks in total, nine including the ones Vic and Ezra were already sipping. "Coming through," she grunted and kicked Ezra's heel as she moved past him out from behind the counter to exit the coffee shop.
"Yo, somebody order a what the fuck, guys."
"Yeahhh... Someone died, actually." Her voice lilted with the news like she was sharing neighborhood gossip. "Ha, don't look so grim. She's better now. That's the awkward part." She grinned, flattening her coffee's straw between her teeth. "I already wrote a song about her. Carry these?"
She shoved a tray of iced lattes into his hands and picked one up for herself. Seven drinks in total, nine including the ones Vic and Ezra were already sipping. "Coming through," she grunted and kicked Ezra's heel as she moved past him out from behind the counter to exit the coffee shop.
"Yo, somebody order a what the fuck, guys."
code by @Nano
Fate0013
King of Sorcerers and Warlocks
Vic either didn’t notice or just glossed over Ezra’s unintentional pun. Yeah he didn’t need to make that a thing right now- Ah, someone had died. That would bring up these sorts of questions wouldn’t it? Her reassurance that all was well did turn around the general mood. At least for Ezra. For the moment. Dealing with death and grieving were different for everyone right?
”Well, if you say so.“ He took that moment to down the last of his coffee before pausing mid sip. ”You write music?“ Ezra was really on a music kick. So much to explore! He wanted to go to a concert still. Or maybe just a live show? Getting lost in the sound and energy would be wicked.
That thought didn’t last since a tray of drinks were shoved into his hands and Vic squirmed past him. ”Oh, alright then. I promise I won’t drop this.“ He didn’t complain as he made room for her. Getting out from behind the counter, Ezra fell into step following behind Vic with drinks in tow. Had she made these for everyone outside? That’s kinda nice, though he wasn’t to sure everyone would be present, or still conscious for that matter. That weird woman that kept staring at him was probably still out there knowing his luck.
”Just to warn you, it’s kinda become a clusterfuck outside.“ He tried to give Vic some form of warning before she made it out the door. But it seemed like he was just a step too late for that. ”None of this was my fault.“ Ezra lied blatantly and drank the last of his coffee and tossed the cup in a nearby bin. ”We should probably go soon.“
Lord Saethos
Dark Lord of the Saeth
A Cafe, Los Angeles, California: March 20th, 2045, 7:50am
The woman moved fast, much faster than Richard had anticipated. Things had been a blur in the fight so far, with an explosion of pain erupting in his nose, as a trickle of blood began to make its way down. He heard her muttering something about not taking a stance too early, evidently quite confident in herself. And cocky.
Of course, it's easy to have such high opinions of herself when she moves so quickly. Super-speed maybe? Hard to tell for sure, but it made it more difficult to come up with a proper response. He'd have to get more creative.
He charged and attempted a haymaker, and after she managed to dodge it, attempted to go for his throat. No good, her hand was now frozen to his. Richard pulled her to the ground, but rather than landing on top, she managed to hit her side. As the two grappled for a few moments, Chizuki approached them, calmly explaining that she had to go, before leaving something in Richard's back pocket.
What?
Richard was a little taken aback by the nonchalance of the encounter, particularly the card that now sat in his back pocket.
He wanted to say something in response, but his 'sparring partner' made it rather difficult to say much of anything. Chizuki was a so far surprising person, and he couldn't help but like that.
Richard quickly flicked his gaze back to Emma as she ripped her hand away, skin peeling off. He shuddered and winced at the sight, only... She seemed pretty unperturbed. Instead, her focus had now turned to some random bystander.
There was that heart sinking feeling in Richard's chest as he watched the mountain of a man march over to whoever this other guy was, flanked by another super it seemed. Without so much as a second though, the giant smashed the man into the ground, boring out a crater.
He turned his gaze back to Emma, still in arm's length.
Out of her peripheral, she saw a faintly red glint, and quickly leaned far to her side to avoid being sliced by a reddened ice dagger Richard had formed, evidently from traces of his own blood.
But cutting her had not been his goal.
As her weight came off of his leg, Richard quickly pulled it out from her grip, rolled closer to the cafe, and planted a foot into a table.
While it came crashing down, so too did drinks on it. Emma tried to close the distance between herself and Richard again, going for a kick, but Richard had launched one of the drinks towards her, it quickly dissipating instead into a sharp, bitterly cold air that irritated her eyes. Richard rose to his feet, throwing a quick punch that she tried to grapple, but he had already pulled back before she could. Instead, his other arm grabbed onto hers, freezing in place again as Richard spun around so that her arm was now pulled over his right shoulder, and her torso was pressed against his back.
The Waza he performed quickly sent her to the ground again, but rather than going for another strike, Richard backed off to create more distance.
"Fighting's fun and all, but to be honest Emma, the whole goon potentially murdering a civilian look here is a bit of a turn off." Richard turned to face the hulking monster that stood over the crater, now almost 100% certain he knew who he was dealing with.
But when he saw what happened next, he couldn't help but look on in horror.
This was turning out a lot like that morning at Atomic Anne's.
CabbageAngel
The_Rockening
Sepokku
Fate0013
MisoraUni
Sepokku
A Menace
- The Knife had been a feint, the realization belatedly crossed her mind as a mist of frozen tea powdered her face. He was fast, and used that to his advantage by throwing her when she misjudged the distance of Kote-hineri. No, it wasnt that she misjudged the distance, it was that she wasn’t wearing her own skin. Emma’s arms were longer, she had more reach, but it also meant her hands were that much further from her center. As she soared over his shoulder, their eyes made contact. He had decent intuition, her opinion of him rose marginally.
Rather than letting herself smack into the ground, she forced her legs to swing down with the centrifugal force of the throw, feet slamming into the ground. Her free hand touched the ground a fraction of a second later and her movement arrested entirely. Despite looking like someone playing a game of Twister, she continued to stare into his eyes. The movement should have been impossible, inertia carrying her body painfully and unyieldingly into the ground, but it did not. A warning flashed in her HUD that the subdermal weave’s storage just hit ninety percent capacity. ‘Not like I can just discharge a few million joules right now…’ Her eyes flicked towards the blonde-haired stranger briefly.
"Fighting's fun and all, but to be honest Emma, the whole goon potentially murdering a civilian look here is a bit of a turn off."
“Yes,” A frown spread across her face as she agreed. “It appears my new associate and I have differing definitions of ‘Grab.’ Loss of life notwithstanding, the city is going to make me pay for that sidewalk.”
Forming a ring with her middle finger and thumb she put them to her lips and let out a shrill whistle, “Rokket. Wake the Peacemakers up.” The armored figure gave a look to Scourge and the potential gang member before flying over to the unconscious bodies of their juniors.
Lilian was about to crack a joke at Richard’s expense when Red Bandana made his move. Ivory and flesh blossomed into existence, it was beautiful. Gynoecium wrapped around Scourge, but the specifics were drowned out by the chorus of biotechnology that was belting out from the assailant.
Despite everything that was happening Lilian was surprisingly calm, ‘I was supposed to be in Atlas right now.’ She made her way to the blazer Scourge had dropped in his excitement and retrieved a phone. Holding down the button labeled two, speed-dial activated.
“Nine-one-one, what’s your emergency?”
“This is Emma Montgomery with HELP. We have an unidentified parahuman attack near the intersection of Colorado and Fifth. Yes. The Peacemakers are already working on containment, the Watch will be here for apprehension. Yes. Yes. No. Thank you.” She hung up and put the phone back as she shrugged the blazer back on.
Scourge crashed to the ground as the assailant turned towards her, spouting Spanish gibberish, her ocular implant provided subtitles.
“Monster?” A scoff derisively left her lips, “I came here to retrieve my associates so that I can go home and pick up my daughter from her grandparents without having to worry about a PR disaster.” The whole situation was almost surreal. She laughed, “First Mr. Coldsnap here has an ax to grind and tries to pick a fight with my friend. Then he gets pissy and brings a literal KNIFE to our fistfight.” Indignation took over and her foot unconsciously took a step towards their attacker, “And now I’ve got FUCKING Akira to deal with?”
Her finger pointed shakily at Red Bandana, she was trembling. Why was she trembling? Oh… The song that his body was playing was full of sorrow; just a scared and hurt animal that needed to be put down. It made her furious to the point of tears.
“I have the shot,” Mould’s voice over comms brought her back to her senses; the heel of her left hand wiped her eyes.
“Take it.”
The HUD traced the trajectory of the spear as it embedded itself in a mound of flesh. A split second later it emitted a blinding light as its nanothermite payload detonated. It didn’t kill the thing, UV light reflected off the flesh flower as it continued to writhe, it was still looking at her. The ASP in Scourge assured her that he was still alive and well. She retreated towards the cafe, grabbing an iced coffee and standing to Vicki’s left.
“Adjust down two degrees and fire again.”
Attachments
The_Rockening
Unlucky Member
Los Angeles, California: March 20th, 2045, morning.
Scourge’s eyes went wide as he was lifted and pierced by the swarm of vines. Blood gushed out from the wound; blood that came as vapours of black and red, hissing and stinging at the beast; more to annoy than to injure, as Scourge was slammed back into the earth. The impact sent an ache that throbbed across his skin and rang within his skull. He shifted within the monsters’ grip, dust and rubble sliding off his body as he propped himself up on an elbow.
“He he… HE HE HE!” Scourge chortled. He pulled at the vines, leering upon the spikes and tendrils as they exited from his body, his blood evaporating from their tips like droplets of water in a hot pan. “What a BEAUTIFUL creature you are!” The giant man mused aloud. He clenched his fist, squashing a vine into paste, just as a flash of white seared the side of the monster. Scourge seized the chance to lumber to his feet - uncaring at the many hooks yet embedded within him - and lunged, shoulder first, towards the pale, bloated, yet human stem of the flesh flower. The giant man's muscles rippled and bulged beneath his skin on impact, as he shoved the monster further, and further, and further, the latter’s feet carving scars into the concrete, until-
SLAM!
The flesh flower crashed onto the side of a delivery truck, with enough force to topple the vehicle. Windows shattered, wheels scraped and screeched against the road. The truck’s alarm blared and drowned out the man’s ravings. Scourge stood over the flesh flower, one massive arm pulled back with a clenched fist, undeterred by the vines.
“COME ON!” Scourge roared, with a voice that oozed with glee, and he brought his fist down.
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XianaEvermor
New Member
The morning was still crisp, and Helene's breath misted vaguely in the dry city air. They had made a fair bit of progress towards the Mana Plume walking through the urban crush of densely packed residences and strip malls near busy streets. Despite her efforts to avoid attention, the "USC Mascot" and his "Goth Girlfriend" managed to attract a small crowd in a Subway when Achilles forced her to stop and eat something. She'd been suppressing her metabolism with a spell, so she wasn't hungry but... she appreciated the gesture all the same. The titanic Trojan was taking a selfie with a small group of college kids a short ways away while she caught her breath and finished the sandwich he'd forced on her.
With all the attention on Achilles, Helene took the opportunity to reach into her Astral body. Though the casual observer would see nothing, when she withdrew her arm a large predatory avian was perched upon it. The edges of the Shade rippled indistinctly as her eyes focused on the [Immaterial]. It cocked its head, turning one of its opal eyes towards her, and the slither of fine metal friction rustled in her ear as it adjusted its feathers. It was Mr. Beaks. She knew the names of the entire flock by their individual auras, but Mr. Beaks stood apart from the others for having a streak of silver running from the tip of his beak, and splashing through his feathers, across his face and down his back to his tail tip. As the biggest and strongest, he was also the leader of the flock.
"I have a task for you," she whispered. "Take your brothers, spread out to the West. Of particular interest is the Mana Plume and its source," she explained. Beaks angled his head towards the plume. "Keep to the Immaterial for now," she instructed, as Beaks hopped from her arm to the railing near her outdoor table. "If you find the source, give me a signal," she added before he took flight.
Moments later, dozens of similar (if slightly smaller) birds peeled out of her shadow and streaked into the sky after Beaks, spreading out to cover the surrounding areas. Helene spared a glance to Achilles, who now had a girl hanging from either of his massive arms and the corners of her lips curled into a smirk. She leaned back into her seat and sipped her drink as her green eye flashed. Looking through the eyes of Mr. Beaks, she was suddenly soaring over Los Angeles while his powerful wing beats melted miles beneath them.
A blinding flash caught their attention some distance below, and Beaks angled in to get a better view. Helene chewed the inside of her lip in thought as she observed an attacker on a rooftop reloading a weapon. Below, in the courtyard of a café, a struggle seemed to have broken out with a tentacled creature of some kind.
It wasn't her place to intervene... not without knowing what caused the altercation at least, but if their conflict scattered the Mana Plume she may not get another opportunity to investigate it. After taking only a moment to consider her options, she hurriedly swept her tray into the bin and vaulted over the railing more agilely than her small frame suggested she could. She took off running as her feet hit the ground, pressing her fingers into her mouth and blowing a shrill whistle.
"Oop. That's my queue," quipped Achilles cheerily as he gently lowered the women to the ground. "Ladies," he grinned, tipping his visor before launching himself after Helene. Achilles quickly darted around a corner and dissolved into black mist as he recalled into her Astralform.
The wind picked up, and Helene allowed the sloped neck of the materializing white horse to gently scoop her onto its back. Its eight thundering hooves splintered the sidewalk as it took flight in a blast of wind.
"So much for not attracting attention," she muttered.
At this rate you'll be as famous as I am!
"That's not helping."
The pair crossed town in just a couple minutes, while Helene quietly wished Kindle were awake to shroud them with an illusion. Helene directed the animal towards a vacant rooftop not terribly far from the Café, though hopefully far enough to be out of danger.
"Thank you Cream," she whispered, swinging herself down from the animals back as it dissolved. The tip of the plume was slowly drifting along the roofs edge. With no ambient currents and flows to whisk it away, it had only its own momentum to guide it. Helene only spared the scene below a glance as she raked herhand through the plume and rubbed it along her fingers gently with her thumb. It tingled against her skin like carbonated bubbles, and the powerful odor of mint (with a hint of ozone) filled her lungs as she inhaled. Helene's nose wrinkled as she resisted the urge to sneeze. She was reaching out to pull the plume into the crystal adorned talismans scattered throughout her jewelry when something caught her eye...
Not the delivery truck and pair of combatants smashing into the ground floor of the building she was standing on... something vague, masked by the electric teal and gold. She smeared the sample across her palm to try and separate the signature components.
"Is this...?"
With all the attention on Achilles, Helene took the opportunity to reach into her Astral body. Though the casual observer would see nothing, when she withdrew her arm a large predatory avian was perched upon it. The edges of the Shade rippled indistinctly as her eyes focused on the [Immaterial]. It cocked its head, turning one of its opal eyes towards her, and the slither of fine metal friction rustled in her ear as it adjusted its feathers. It was Mr. Beaks. She knew the names of the entire flock by their individual auras, but Mr. Beaks stood apart from the others for having a streak of silver running from the tip of his beak, and splashing through his feathers, across his face and down his back to his tail tip. As the biggest and strongest, he was also the leader of the flock.
"I have a task for you," she whispered. "Take your brothers, spread out to the West. Of particular interest is the Mana Plume and its source," she explained. Beaks angled his head towards the plume. "Keep to the Immaterial for now," she instructed, as Beaks hopped from her arm to the railing near her outdoor table. "If you find the source, give me a signal," she added before he took flight.
Moments later, dozens of similar (if slightly smaller) birds peeled out of her shadow and streaked into the sky after Beaks, spreading out to cover the surrounding areas. Helene spared a glance to Achilles, who now had a girl hanging from either of his massive arms and the corners of her lips curled into a smirk. She leaned back into her seat and sipped her drink as her green eye flashed. Looking through the eyes of Mr. Beaks, she was suddenly soaring over Los Angeles while his powerful wing beats melted miles beneath them.
A blinding flash caught their attention some distance below, and Beaks angled in to get a better view. Helene chewed the inside of her lip in thought as she observed an attacker on a rooftop reloading a weapon. Below, in the courtyard of a café, a struggle seemed to have broken out with a tentacled creature of some kind.
It wasn't her place to intervene... not without knowing what caused the altercation at least, but if their conflict scattered the Mana Plume she may not get another opportunity to investigate it. After taking only a moment to consider her options, she hurriedly swept her tray into the bin and vaulted over the railing more agilely than her small frame suggested she could. She took off running as her feet hit the ground, pressing her fingers into her mouth and blowing a shrill whistle.
"Oop. That's my queue," quipped Achilles cheerily as he gently lowered the women to the ground. "Ladies," he grinned, tipping his visor before launching himself after Helene. Achilles quickly darted around a corner and dissolved into black mist as he recalled into her Astralform.
The wind picked up, and Helene allowed the sloped neck of the materializing white horse to gently scoop her onto its back. Its eight thundering hooves splintered the sidewalk as it took flight in a blast of wind.
"So much for not attracting attention," she muttered.
At this rate you'll be as famous as I am!
"That's not helping."
The pair crossed town in just a couple minutes, while Helene quietly wished Kindle were awake to shroud them with an illusion. Helene directed the animal towards a vacant rooftop not terribly far from the Café, though hopefully far enough to be out of danger.
"Thank you Cream," she whispered, swinging herself down from the animals back as it dissolved. The tip of the plume was slowly drifting along the roofs edge. With no ambient currents and flows to whisk it away, it had only its own momentum to guide it. Helene only spared the scene below a glance as she raked herhand through the plume and rubbed it along her fingers gently with her thumb. It tingled against her skin like carbonated bubbles, and the powerful odor of mint (with a hint of ozone) filled her lungs as she inhaled. Helene's nose wrinkled as she resisted the urge to sneeze. She was reaching out to pull the plume into the crystal adorned talismans scattered throughout her jewelry when something caught her eye...
Not the delivery truck and pair of combatants smashing into the ground floor of the building she was standing on... something vague, masked by the electric teal and gold. She smeared the sample across her palm to try and separate the signature components.
"Is this...?"
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MisoraUni
Artist | Just a lil silly but mostly sleepy
Sepokku
A Menace
- Mould reloaded the speargun with a practiced motion, the payload in this one was slightly larger than the last two. Whatever power their assailant had, it regenerated the flesh quicker than the intense flashes of heat could denature it. The targeting software had a lock on one of the creature’s two heads but before Mould could fire, Scourge slammed into the flower and carried it into a delivery vehicle. “Tch,” He raised the gun so it rested against his shoulder as he moved to the other side of the roof and began to line up another shot. At this rate, he’d run out of thermite before the thing was taken care of.
A civilian opened the roof access door, “Do you have to be using the residential roof to shoot that uh… Flesh monster?”
“Yup.”
“...there’s a nightclub over there… people might be trying to catch up on sleep…”
“Bad position that, especially since the target’s mobile.” His phone let out a droning alarm, if he looked at the screen it would undoubtedly say ‘Emergency Alert. Parahuman warning in the area. Shelter in place. Check local media.’
His gaze turned back to look at her, “Listen to th-” Recognition halted his sentence. It was the Ice-Breaker who had tripped Tik, which meant… “Hey Lady, my name is Mould. I’m the team leader for the Neighborhood Watch. That monster down there is in felony violation of the Parahumans Defence Act. Here in California, that puts you well within your rights to make or aid in a citizen’s arrest and in this case, even to use deadly force; super-powered or otherwise.”
druidquest
魔法少女
- Music and lights pulsed through the dark cavern of the venue, making Sheri’s bones feel like they were humming in tune to the bass. She skulked through the crowded hall recessed into the wall, unnoticed by the people around her watching an unseen show in the arena down below. Sounds of engines and metal striking metal echoed up through the high fenced wall of the underground complex, slicing cleanly through the noise of the music pounding overhead.
”You sure this is the right place? ‘Cos I gotta say, love the atmosphere here, but it doesn’t exactly scream “Witchfinder” to me.” Jack leaned against the wall as Sheri passed, invisible and muted to everyone else around them. ”I mean, don’t get me wrong, it’s definitely been a while, but it just doesn’t have the same vibe, y’know?”
Sheri completely ignored the hallucination, slipping through a door at the end of the hall into a small room filled with cushioned benches and vending machines, a pair of stairwells flanking either side. She cut between them, to a metal push door marked “employees only”.
”o-hoh, I didn’t realize you worked here, my bad.” Jack was waiting on the other side of the door, leaning against the door frame with arms crossed and a mocking grin on her face. ”Finally giving up the “save the world” bit? Found your true calling working concessions?” Sheri didn’t even break stride, never giving any indication she heard the illusory woman. ”I’m just saying, that’s the best decision you’ve made all year!” Jack called after her.
At the end of this hall lined with closets and storage rooms was an office, Sheri’s destination sitting secluded in a corner of this building dedicated to violent entertainment. She gripped the doorknob, then thought better of it and knocked on the door’s wooden face instead. There was a moment of silence before she knocked again, then tried the doorknob. Locked, of course, though she could hear muffled noises on the other side.
Sheri sighed in exasperation, one hand finding its way into the pocket of her jacket. She flicked out the thin, wedge tipped blade of the device she pulled out of it, pressing it against the lock and pressing a button on the side of the handle. An electrical current jolted out the end of the device, disengaging the door’s magnetic lock, and it swung open with an encouraging kick to its base. A yelp of surprise greeted Sheri’s intrusion, and she stepped aside so a tall man with too much mascara rushed past her out the door, wiping spittle from his bearded lip.
”A locked door usually means “do not enter”,” sighed the room’s remaining occupant, zipping up his pants as he spun slowly in his chair to face the door. He blinked once as his eyes met Sheri’s, then leapt to his feet as a big grin shot across his face.
”Sheri, darling!” he shouted ecstatically, leaping over his desk to greet her. The sheer enthusiasm in his voice caused Sheri to step back reflexively, one hand going to the ppk tucked in her pants. “It’s been too long! You haven’t called!”
”Take the shot, Sheri! He’s clearly insane!”
”I’ve been busy,” Sheri said, lowering her hand from the pistol’s grip.
”No one’s too busy to speak with friends, darling,” the man tutted, flicking Sheri on the forehead. “I get lonely, you know.”
”It’s worse than I thought. We might need to call for backup, here. I don’t know if you can take him alone.”
”Shut up. Not you,” she added as shock flew across his face. Sheri could almost smell the smug look Jack was making behind her. ”Sorry, Ryuji. I’ll call more often.”
Yamanaka Ryuji ran one hand through the shock of his bright green hair, sitting back against his desk as a smile returned to his face. His eyes looked for something in her face, but if he had any questions, he didn’t voice them. Instead he extended his hands toward Sheri, palms up in invitation. Go on, then. Make your pitch.”
Sheri’s expression didn’t falter. Ryuji was the wayward son of a Yakuza oyabun. He had more than enough experience to know when people wanted things from him, and even if the two of them weren’t already familiar with each other, the career he’d built for himself in the States meant people wanted things from him quite often. Still, she couldn’t help but notice an edge of… what, disappointment in his voice? Sheri almost felt a pang of guilt stab through her at that.
”We can get drinks afterward,” she led, hands finding her way into her jacket pockets. ”I’ll introduce you to my team for a bit.
Ryuji scoffed, raising the suggestion away with his hand. ”You don’t need to coddle me, darling. I’m a big boy. I know when business is business, and I understand you wouldn’t come to me if you didn’t need me. Now please.”
Sheri’s eyes met his for a long moment, her tongue pressing against the roof of her mouth in thought. ”This’ll benefit you as well,” she began.
”No doubt.”
”I’m looking for a drug dealer.”
”Well, well. I hadn’t taken you for a party girl, but a year brings many changes.”
”Not for me,” Sheri snapped. ”This one’s peddling stuff that gives powers.”
”Have you tried checking the chemist?”
”This stuff’s different. Stronger. Permanent, I think? Witchfinders are selling it.”
Ryuji’s eyebrows rose almost imperceptibly. ”Witchfinders selling powers. I think we’d have noticed, even if it weren’t ridiculous.”
Sheri shook her head, arms crossing over her chest. ”This guy wouldn’t be a witchfinder himself. Likely just some punk looking to make quick money. But I can track his supplier back to a different source.”
”And that helps you find the Witchfinders,” Ryuji finished for her, following the train of logic to its end. ”And what stops me from claiming the drugs for myself? More powers mean more riders. That would certainly be a benefit to me.”
”That’s fine,” Sheri responded without any hint of hesitation.
”Just like that?”
”Just like that.”
”No concern for what I’d do with them?”
”Better you than the Witchfinders,” Sheri said with a shrug.
They stared at each other for a long moment, neither moving or blinking. They both knew Ryuji wouldn’t do anything with the drugs anyway, but better to meet his bluff than call it. The distant cheers of a crowd echoed through the door, the only sound either heard in the moment. Finally Ryuji let out a breath , pushing off his desk.
”I don’t work for free, you understand. Even for friends.”
”I’ll have my boss write you a check.” Sheri’s hand met his as soon as he extended it.
”Oh? Is that who’s hiring me?”
”And I’ll buy you a drink later.”
Ryuji gave a wry grin before shooing her toward the door. ”Very well. I’ll put someone on it as soon as possible and give you a call once I’ve caught your rat. I assume you’ve changed your number in the past year?”
”Several times. Also my phone was buried under an apartment complex recently.
”Sounds like a story.”
”Not really. I’ll give you someone else’s,” she said, taking the pen he offered and writing a series of digits on Ryuji’s palm. ”Just open by telling him it was me who gave it to you so he doesn’t start making threats.”
”Oh?” he raised one eyebrow at that, giving her a mischievous look. ”A fun kind of boy, then?”
”I’m leaving now. Be sure to give us a call as soon as you find something,” Sheri told him, already walking out the door and ignoring his call of “Bye, darling!”
Sheri took a sharp left out of the office, heading down the staircase two at a time as her form seemed to flicker and blur to those around her, becoming difficult to focus on and outright impossible to remember once out of sight. A security camera in the stairwell caught her on her way down, its recording becoming distorted and corrupted in the act.
It wasn’t that she didn’t trust Ryuji. Sheri had no doubt he would fulfill his end of the bargain admirably and ensure the rest of the team were kept right on schedule. But Sheri had other threads to follow, and as she stepped out into the dingy tunnels of the LA subway system she caught sight of one of them almost immediately. A woman stood on the opposite platform, the red string highlighting the chain of her plain crucifix necklace perfectly in the dim lighting.
Sheri had seen others like it several times since arriving on the west coast, and some preemptive investigation (some might say “paranoid stalking”) of the matter while Richard recovered from their encounter at the distribution center had proven her suspicions correct. No organization like the Witchfinders would be able to strip down and vacate their base of operations as quickly as they had without a robust human resources infrastructure to operate with, and that’s exactly what they had. Honestly, with the number of witchfinders in this city, it would be an absolute wonder if they hadn’t been watched every moment from the instant they botched the previous operation.
There was a green flash in Sheri’s eyes, and a clone of herself appeared on the other side of the tracks, waiting with the rest of the crowd. A rumbling in the tunnel alerted Sheri to what was coming, and she stepped off the platform onto the tracks just in time for her body to burst into static as a subway train barreled through the same space. She blinked once as she was suddenly on the other platform, standing in the exact spot her clone had been. Her Shade came back online instantly, her eyes finding the witchfinder in the same moment. Sheri stepped onto the train as the witchfinder did, taking up a position in the same car while carefully remaining just out of her line of sight.
They would be traveling together for a while.
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MisoraUni
Artist | Just a lil silly but mostly sleepy
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Lord Saethos
Dark Lord of the Saeth
A Cafe, Los Angeles, California: March 20th, 2045, 7:55am
This was starting to shape up much like the beach in Atlas City. Less broad chaos and destruction, but the bizarre looking monster managed to carry with it a very unique type of existential dread.
As it stood over the pit it had thrown the tall guy into, something had pierced its arm and created a small explosion of super heat, gore, and over the Red Bandana monster, a smattering of liquid metal.
This guy needed some kinda name, and he didn't seem partial on giving his actual one.
Roja seemed fitting.
Richard watched as Roja's arm hung in loose strands, like a string of twine being undone. But Roja seemed unperturbed. He merely turned his head in the direction where the shot had come from.
"Un francotirador también. Veo que nada ha cambiado, igual que ustedes siempre han sido."
The tendrils and strands of the arm began wrapping around each other, pulling themselves taut together, but after only a mere moment, the big green guy had bounded out of the pit, grabbed onto Roja, and pummeled him into a delivery truck of some kind.
...................................................................................................
At this point, Scourge was now without the same facial coverings that hid his identity. Richard felt his chest swell with pure, vile, hatred. The woman next to him then... She hadn't been at either of the battles from what he had seen, but she KNEW this guy, and his group.
He really should have brought a gun.
A sudden snowstorm next to him dissipated as Chizuki suddenly reappeared next to him. Had it really been that long since she was gone? He could have sworn it was only minutes ago. Perhaps the snowstorm helped with that. Either way, he was still a little surprised she had ice powers as well, not exactly like his, but it was still quite fortuitous he thought.
"Absolutely zero clue who he is, but I'm calling him Roja. Keeps speaking Spanish, and he's clutching a Red Bandana, so..."
Vic and Ezra had walked out of the cafe again, evidently having decided 7am was a good time to moonlight as Baristas.
Richard quickly jogged over to them from the fight. "Actually yes, I did order these."
He looked sympathetically between the two of them for a brief moment. "Sorry."
Richard knocked the drinks tray out of Vicky's hands, and as he did the cold liquid and ice began to quickly disappear from the air, and form instead around his hands.
As the ice formed, he grabbed the tray from Ezra's hands, and threw the drinks in the direction of Scourge and Roja, the liquid forming into a slight, foggy mist in the air.
"Appreciate it."
He turned back to the two monsters and charged towards them.
...................................................................................................
Roja grinned up at Scourge, eyes locked with each other.
"Buenas noches."
The axel at the bottom of the truck snapped, and the long metal pipe swung far to the left, smashing into Scourge's skull, sending him tumbling to the side.
Pavement and concrete on the street began to crack, bursting open as more veins and muscley sinew pushed the stone up in the shape of a wall, facing the direction of the sniper.
"Dos pueden jugar a este juego amigo."
For the last few minutes, the liquid slag had been pooling into a hollow cavity in the monster, forming into a long, thing, curved shape, with small amounts of space inside.
The maw in Roja's chest and stomach spat out what appeared to be a boomerang, which he picked up in another limb that had formed, more lithe, but incredibly muscley. He pulled back, before launching the melee weapon through the air, into the direction of an apartment roof.
...................................................................................................
A few feet away from the sniper, the metal boomerang crashed into the ledge of the roof, shattering and bursting open, the metal creating a small explosion of brittle shrapnel. None of it posed any risk to the sniper, however its payload did. A lump of white flesh, with black veins, pulsated as it quickly grew in size, wrapping a few tendrils around the left leg of the would-be assailant.
...................................................................................................
Before Roja could turn his attention back to Scourge, a sharp pain erupted in it's left arm as a blade of ice pierced through it. He turned a hateful gaze towards Richard, who's arm had a long blade of ice attached to it, like a gauntlet with a short sword attached. The area around where the blade pierced began to freeze solid, and as Richard brought his other arm down onto it, the area began to crack and break, before finally severing entirely.
The cool mist from before began to attach itself to the veins that had been crawling up from underground, and soon a pipe that had been nestled under the steets burst open, pouring water into the streets like a fountain.
"You're in MY battlefield now." He grinned.
Roja swung the steel axle towards Richard, which he ducked in time to miss, before planting a firm, icy uppercut into Roja's nose.
But rather than having the initiative, it seemed Roja and Richard might become deadlocked. More veins burst from the ground behind him, and as he dodged to the left, to make his way behind Roja and add some distance, he noticed the veins seemed to pursue him of their own accord.
What WAS this thing?
The clothes, the bandana, that apparatus that had been on his chest... And the barely noticable shards of glass that didn't belong to the vehicle, and didn't show up during their prior fight with Tik and Tok.
Was this some kind of Bio Weapon?
CabbageAngel
The_Rockening
Sepokku
Fate0013
MisoraUni
Fate0013
King of Sorcerers and Warlocks
It was fine to enjoy a bit of chaos. It can even be healthy from time to time. The current scene that continued to play out before him though made Ezra wonder if today had been a good day to goof off. Granted he was still firmly of the mindset that he had nothing to do with any of . . . . This.
Whatever this was. A huge man was fighting something that looked like a thing he wished he hadn’t seen on the internet. There was snow for some reason. And Richard just ruined the drinks Vic had spent so time making for everyone! Now that was rather rude.
Right then he was struck with a rather reasonable question. ”Ya know, you would think the police or something would have shown up by now.“ He said out loud to nobody in particular. Maybe it was just how things worked when it came to people with powers. Life’s a comic book and we are all living in it. Or maybe some poorly adapted TV spin-off considering how the fleshy guy looked.
Ezra huffed and shoved his hands into his jacket pockets in annoyance. ”And I promised not to spill any of those drinks too.“ Sparks danced across his skin in his moment of irritation.
While not really as happy to jump into the growing brawl as everyone else was, Ezra did start to ramp himself up again. The generators in his shoulder blades gently starting to hum with power again in anticipation. He felt the air around his skin become bubbly again. In a few seconds he was ready to run or fight. Wire once again spoiled out under his cloths and wrapped his limbs in secret.
The jittery part of his mind wanted to punch Richard in the face for his little stunt still. He kept it quiet though. Ezra had Widget to thank for the degree of control he had. Not going to explode again. Not here.
[The Storm roiled in annoyance inside of him]
Instead of leaping in and creating sensless
You can only pretend to be a dead body and sneak out of a hospital so many times in so few days.
Avery thought she was laying on top of a pile of rubble or something at first. Peter Radovan had picked her up by the throat and threw her like she was nothing more than a softball. The momentary weightlessness was welcoming, the feeling of the air rushing around her refreshing. She landed face down on the ground with little resistance, the aching resulting from the impact paling in comparison to the burning of her throat where he had choked her.
At least she was away from him. Far away from the terrible things he showed her.
She could be dying right now, for all she knows. Avery felt the adrenaline slowly drain from her body, whatever foreign power the sisters granted to her drain out of her, leaving just the sound of her heart beating loudly in her ears as proof that she's solitary once more.
She could die here. Could be dying, crumpled up on the floor in a heap of meat and blood and bones, just like what he showed her. Somehow, this idea seems just right to her. Crawling into a corner, having the life slowly leave your body in a quiet moment.
One question surfaces in the back of her mind, prickling some dark corners of her brain like a needle. The smell of burning flesh still lingered in her nose from the vision he showed her (fuck him for doing that, as if she's not dealing with enough already - now she has some kind of shell-shock from some battle she's never fought to haunt her nightmares), and Avery can't help but wonder: was he the perpetrator of the scene, or the spectator?
It's clear that Peter Radovan has the capability of creating a scene just like that. The bloodshed here was kept to a minimum by the skin of their teeth, but she also gets the impression that he deliberately held himself back. A spat with coworkers. This is petty office drama to him.
Most of the time, when surfers or swimmers lose their limbs to sharks, it's because the sharks did not know what the strange objects in the water were, and could only figure it out by taking test bites.
He's playing with his food.
But also.... Avery gets the impression that there is something deeply fucked up with this man, and she's a little curious as to what's wrong with him. Why he is the way that he is. People do all kinds of fucked up shit when bad things happen to them.
Avery thinks of her parents, and presses her tongue into one of her canines. Focuses on the taste of copper, traces the texture of the concrete floor with her eyes.
The comfortable pile of rubble she landed on moved under her stomach, and she realized the feeling of a rock pressing under one of her ribs was actually an elbow. She turned her head slightly to see the discheveled hair of one of the sisters (she's not sure which one, nor does she recall how many sisters there actually are. 3? 4? 9?) laying on her stomach underneath her. Her arm moved below her, and she could feel the distinctive feel of metal under her shirt. The sister is pulling out a gun.
Part of Avery is grateful for the distraction. Grateful for the familiar feeling of adolescent-esque embarassment that floods her at the sheer awkwardness of their postion. With the energy she could muster, she pushes herself off of the other woman, rolling onto her back nearby. Avery's not as fond of her face being exposed, and kind of liked the prior position where she could hide it easier, but the cool floor underneath her back is comforting and she doesn't have the drive to find a more comfortable position. The cieling mirrors the grey floor, but stretches far above her.
"... Sorry." The apology comes out hoarse and quiet, voice raw from Peter's vice grip on her throat. It came out sudden, almost instinctual, and Avery isn't sure what she's apologizing for.
It does not appear that the other girl acknowledged it. Avery's fine with that. Faint sounds drift over to where she lays on the ground, painting her vision in faint swirls of colors, and she decides she might as well take a quick nap.
She could have slept for 5 seconds, 5 minutes, or 5 hours - she's not really sure. Blackness and quiet took her eagerly, and she managed to hide the scene of bloodshed away for now to get some shut-eye, although it loomed in the corner of her mind ominously. Unfortunately, though, she became aware once again of the world around her. The stomping of boots on the ground, the indistinct voice and movement of newcomers caught her ears; she squeezed her eyes tighter, tried to will herself to treasure the fleeting moments of peace she could get.
She hears the approaching heavy steps of combat boots. The clicking of nails on the floor. The frantic sniffs of a canine ghost over her face, leaving behind the wetness of a nose, followed quickly by a tongue swiping too close to her mouth. That jolts her awake.
The super-dog the girls brought in - the one that could turn fucking huge - ignores her protests and takes his time continuing to stick his face close to hers, before eventually relenting and sitting back on his haunches a respectable distance out of her personal space. Avery rewards this with pats.
The other figure looms over her. Some other guy in tactical gear, all grey, rifle clutched into position across their body. A mask obscures their face. "Get up. There's a new assignment to take care of."
Avery squints up at them, looking much less-welcoming towards this person than she did at the dog. She takes a sidelong glance at the others - the girls appear to be regrouping, Moore and Radovan are standing... near each other. Not hostile, but the tension between them is still palpable. They're each talking to another guy in grey.
It appears they're back in business. The person standing in front of Avery nudges her feet with their boots, and she can hear the sharp click of their gun as they shift slightly in their hold of it. Avery sighs, lifts her hands up, streches with audible cracks before slowly getting back to her feet. The dog trots off elsewhere, and the agent stands behind her and pushes her onwards with the stock of his rifle.
Avery decides she'll take her sweet time, burying her hands in her pockets and trudging along at a slow pace, trailing behind the other notable agents. The guy in grey, apparently, finds that she's moving too leisurely for their taste and nudges her forward with the stock of their gun again; she swallows a pang of annoyance at the guy, deciding she could use it as fuel later if they get in another fight. She's still kinda tired and would rather sleep right now, but she's gotta clock in... apparently. Some coffee would help though.
... Wait - is she getting paid for this? She better be.
Sepokku
A Menace
- Emiri watched with a bored look of vindication as Nina and Hudson rejoined the group; Cadence was visibly bristling, the Gray taskforce doing nothing to improve her mood.
“Me and my team TRIED to de-escalate and recontain, but certain interruptions prevented this..."
“...But it's become clear that there is a serious lack of discipline and proper strategy in SINS...”
“Agreed. Agent Radovan disobeyed direct orders from his superior to be here; the cascade failure of communication in the agency is due solely to his incompetence.” Emiri absentmindedly flicked dirt out from under her nails while she relayed the facts to the task force.
As Avery drew herself to her feet and got pushed forward by a Gray agent, Emiri followed, placing her hand on the agent’s shoulder. He immediately slapped it off and gave her a pointed look. “Calm down. We promised the new recruit a sushi dinner.”
The youngest sisters each ambled, nursing carrying degrees of headaches. Emiri cocked her head slightly, “While my other sisters are recovering, allow Cadence and I to accompany Agent McCulloch, at least until such time as we fulfill our obligation.”
‘Emiri, why th-’
‘You didn’t see it, did you?’
‘See what???’
‘The Kitsune-Mochi, I could see her while linked to Avery.’
Cadence was silent for a long moment, ‘And you didn’t mention it, why?’
‘Wanted to see if you’d notice,’ Emiri shrugged silently as she followed Moore out of the room.
Hurrying to Moore’s side, Cadence clasped her hands behind her back and leaned forwards slightly, “I’ll send the formal request through Jamie, but you don’t mind if we show our junior the ropes?” She shot him her most winning smile.
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