Episode 6A: The King's Archives

[welian]

Wednesday, May 2, 2040

Time: 8:15PM

Weather: A steady, cold rain. No thunder, little wind.

News: In the aftermath of the horrific attack on an Aegis-owned super training facility, several figures have stepped forth to offer their thoughts and prayers to the students and their families.

A wake scheduled for 6:30pm was moved indoors, to Saint Leo's Roman Catholic Church. It went without major incidents, however, there were some disgruntled disputes over traffic, and some protesters had to be relocated by the police.

Recovery efforts continue at the site of the attack. At least ten people are confirmed dead, with another five to six missing. Dozens were injured in their rush to escape, and several have been hospitalized.

Additional police presence has been granted to the Johns Hopkins Hospital, well-known for its capabilities in treated superpowered individuals. Many of the injured supers were sent there for treatment.

Ze attack last veek is unprecedented. It vas nossing short of indiscriminate murder, an act zat cannot be forgiven under any circumstances. Zese Knights have painted zemselves in ze blood of innocent lives, and vizout qvuestion zey vill do it again. But I digress. I offer my condolences to all ze lives of zose lost. I implore you to contact me srough vhatever means you can, and I will cover ze funeral costs. It is ze smallest step on ze vay to move forvard, but it is ze necessary pass to take if we wish to prepare for ze future. As for zese.... Knights. Zey are nossing. Vorse zan vermin, wrizing in filth, indulging in murder. Ze lowest of ze low, zese Knights deserve nossing but a painful deas. Zey do not deserve your soughts, your attention, nossing. Vhen zey die, zey vill be forgotten by history, a name stricken from ze face of history. Vhile ve ascend into ze future, zey, and zose who share zeir ideals, vill be left behind. It is a collaborative effort, and I hope zat each and every person can take a step tovards a better future, today. Gergo Elek, owner and CEO of Aegis

Agenda

PM me or message me in the Discord to get your character placed in one of the following scenes, or ask permission for a particular scene. I just need to be able to track where characters are!

Location 6A1: Baltimore, somewhere in an abandoned train tunnel

"Landon. We're packed." Avecca stood at attention, next to the train car. It was red, rusty, and smelled suspiciously like the piss of a homeless man. Of course, in her opinion, that’s what all the Knights smelled like.

“I can’t believe they did. I can’t believe – “

“You have been saying that all week. Please shut up.”

“No! Because I can’t believe it! I – We – we are supposed to be doing good things! We had a plan! Raguel fucking signed off on it, and then turns around and BAM! Building full of kids!”

Avecca stared past him, her eyes blank. “I thought you hated supers.”

“I thought you hated talking to men.”

“…. We’re packed.”

“Ugh. As soon as we met up with the others, I’m resigning.”

Location 6A2: Johns Hopkins Hospital

“I think that’s everyone in the same ward.” A graying nurse in Snoopy scrubs crossed her arms and surveyed her patients.

“We don’t typically do this,” she explained to the fresh-faced nursing student next to her, alternating between bouncing on his feet with excitement and paling at the thought of working with more than three supers at a time.

“But it’s been pretty traumatic all around, and it’s nice to put patients closer together so that they can walk over and visit each other.”

“But aren’t visiting hours ending soon?”

“Oh, don't worry. There's still another hour or so.”

Neither of the nurses seemed to notice the heavily made-up grandmother in purple lipstick lurking around the corner, eyeing the patients like a cougar eyeing a wounded elk.

Location 6A3: Training Facility 108

The chainlink fence was draped with caution tape, and the gaps were filled with hideous fluorescent orange temporary fencing. It was a dark and dreary night, and yet, some people were still visiting. They left flowers, balloons, handwritten signs.

Most of the signs were condolences. A few were criticisms, that usually were disappeared away by a friendly member of the public – but not always caught in time. The most egregious case was the dead tuna that someone hurled over the fence, to rot openly in the trampled grass as the seagulls pecked away at the innards.

For now though, the place was seemingly empty, the only souls left were Penny and the seagulls.

Location 6A4: Saint Leo’s Roman Catholic Church

Director Chernov had somberly stood at the front of the church during the wake. The priest had, for all of two minutes, convinced her to take her sunglasses off. Unfortunately, multiple children started crying, and that was just too much of a hassle to deal with. The judgmental looks were inevitable, as she was volun-told to give a few words during the wake.

“This is… this is neither the time nor the place to discuss government. This is the time to honor our fallen neighbors, friends and family. The world is… is…” She paused, struggling for words.

“The world is cruel. It’s merciless. Nature doesn’t know right from wrong.” She hurried, speaking quickly before too many reporters took her words too far out of context.

“But we, humans, do. We defined right and wrong, and created justice to ensure a right and fair society. Some people are like caged animals. They don’t know right and wrong, they don’t know justice. They only know survival. And somehow… somehow, some certain animals have decided that we are a threat to their survival.”

In a way, we are.

“We humans are bringing justice to those who need it most, and we will do so with the names of our family on our lips.”

There was, to her relief, a smattering of polite applause – and to her alarm, some of the handheld candles dipped dangerously sideways. She was grateful to not have another incident on her hands, and yet, a fire certainly would have given her a chance to escape the awkward questioning.

After the wake, Chernov stood around the back of the church, taking refuge under an awning and lighting up a cigarette she had hidden in her garter, next to her gun.

Perhaps she would get a few minutes of reprieve, before someone started yelling at her for not doing her job.

 

[welian]

Episode 6A is now open for posting. This thread is for all Baltimore-based scenes.

 

[Gus]

Manami Hamasaki
​

Location: Back of the Church
Nearby: Director Chernov
@s: welian Zahzi

​

Manami stood near the back of the church. What parts of her the bulky hoody and sweatpants didn’t already conceal, the poor lighting did. She stood apart. Something in her stance said ‘stay away from me’ in a way that was hard to miss or deny. She was not even sure why she had come here.

What remained of her parents had been cremated on Sunday, the ashes scattered off of Sedgy Point in the nearby state park. By then the numbness had begun to wear off. Little by little, almost imperceptibly, it had been replaced by a deep and deadly anger. Like a slow poison, it had spread through her as she plodded aimlessly back through the state park. By the time she had found herself back at facility 108, something had to give. When Sensei Ward had found her there, past midnight, she was using the remains of an old crane to reduce what remained of the Momo-Taro as well as much of the dry dock that held it to splinters. She supposed it was lucky that it was him. Nearly anyone else, she might have killed before she could stop herself. She had been so utterly lost in her rage at the world, and the worst part about that rage was how it had felt. It was… deeply liberating. Far down in her soul, the vaults she had built to lock the Oni away from society, simply crumbled to dust.

Somehow, Ward had known just what she needed then, much as papa had, back in the early days when her control over the Oni inside her had been weaker. Rather than restraining her, which he surely could have done, he simply let her exhaust herself. He created puppets of metal, reminiscent of the knight’s powered armor, first in ones and twos, then in squads, and finally whole platoons swarming her in hand to hand combat. He offered her no quarter and pulled no punches, testing her absolute limits. At last, near dawn, she’d collapsed, and he’d gathered her up and taken her home. When she woke mid-morning, there was food and she had eaten voraciously. When she was sated, she had spoken at last. A single word. “More.” Ward simply arched an eyebrow. They returned to 108 and the battle had continued. This time, he made her fight underwater while he observed from what remained of the pier. By mid-morning on Tuesday, her rage had burnt itself out. Again, Sensei Ward had taken her home, fed her and put her to bed. Exhausted, she had slept for over 24 hours.

When she awoke at last, she’d felt like a dead husk of her former self. She went for a long swim, returning near sundown to find a note with directions to the church, some baggy sweats, and some kind of water circulating backpack courtesy of Dana Dabbs herself. The pictorial instructions had been easy enough to follow, and now as she stood in the back of the church she found herself comfortably breathing for the first time ever on land.

None of this changed the estrangement she felt. This church was alien to her. Her parents were already gone, and none of the words spoken held any meaning for her. Nothing did anymore. She was about to slip out when Director Chernov began to speak. Something about the apparent fatigue, the hint of defeat tinged with defiance in her voice, caught her mind fast and held it. By the end of the short speech, just one word of it was left burned into her brain: ‘Justice.’

She followed when the Director stepped out and strode up to her, heedless of the clouds of tobacco smoke, and with absolutely no trace of her customary deference to authority remaining.

“Director. My name is Manami Hamasaki. I graduated with my blue card last week. My parents were killed shortly afterward in the attack. I have grieved for them. I have burned through my anger. Now, I am empty. I have nothing, and I am nothing. I am a shell, and I need purpose. I want a job. I want to work for you. I want to work for Justice. Give me a job to do. I will do whatever you need me for.”

She stepped back slightly and bowed curtly, from the waist.

 

[Giyari]

Mood: Curious
Location: 6A3: Training Facility 108
Company: Alone so far
@'s:
Other: I haven't detailed Viola's "super suit" yet, however check her profile later for a full rundown

Viola Porter Viola walked quietly through the darkness surrounding the facility. Being so out of the way of the city proper, the only real light came from the streetlights glaring across the open bay, what with the moonlight being obscured by the clouds above. Rubble strewn across the tarmac that had been here for far longer than the attack lead the way like breadcrumbs to the facility gates, every so often a single solitary streetlight blinked on as it attempted to ward off the the night, adding to the run down feeling out in this part of town. The gates themselves were lit up by small collections of battery powered candles, causing them to stand out like the gates to some sort of low rate knock off afterlife. Fitting, seeing as the events that went down had been carried out in the name of a twisted misconstrued god.

The black hooded figure came to a stop just short of the gate, her glasses zooming in on the surrounding area. All clear it seemed. Taking a few moments, Viola took in the notices on the flowers.

"All thoughts and prayers bullshit... Well, what else can you expect, not like anything's changed in decades." she thought to herself with a sigh before turning her attention to the facility itself. From first glances it appeared unguarded, there was not obvious figures in the grounds, no lights on from this side of the facility either. The coast seemed to be clear.

Pulling a black neoprene style mask out of her collar, Viola pulled it up over her face, zipping it into the hood of her short overcoat. And with a button push on the side of her glasses, her eyes became hidden behind one way tinted lenses. It was time to go to work.

With a slight momentary whine her exo suit's joints quickly reached full power, springing her clear over the fence and into a full sprint towards the facility, silently dodging past the security camera's field of view, she twisted through the shadows of wrecked cars and fallen walls before flipping quietly through one of the smashed windows.

Landing softly on the linoleum tiled floor, Viola found herself in the Mental Discipline classroom, ironically enough it was the last class she ever took in the damned place, but it was as good a starting point as any other. Walking carefully past the broken glass littering the floor, Viola's glasses highlighted the best areas to plant her feet. Now she just had to find a computer and get to work.

"Here we go, here we go..." she thought quietly as she made her way into the main corridor.

 

[The Oldest Blueberry]

Gergo Elek, CEO​

Things had been...difficult for the past week. The older gentleman took an elongated drag on his cigarette, black burning to white ash. He exhaled quickly in order to receive another dose of sweet, sweet cancer. He ran his left hand through his hair, dragging his nails harshly across his scalp. He wished for a lot of things, and normally got them, but right now a successful assassination attempt sounded fucking terrific. He dropped the remnants of the cancer stick in the ash tray, staring out a heavily tinted window. Everything was so bleak in this city. It was possibly one of the most depressing places he'd ever seen, and he'd been to several active warzones. His current destination, Saint Leo's Roman Catholic Church, wasn't too far off, but he wished it were. There was nothing there to be gained. He already paid for all of the funerals, and while he understood that it would be rude to be in town and not say anything, he already gave his little speech! People die all the time. Hell, the same thing could've happened four times over a few thousand miles away and no one in town would shed a single tear.

Gergo's assistant, Aubrey, who sat perpendicular to him, was tapping away at their tablet, a bit too loudly for Gergo's considerably shortened patience, when they suddenly froze. Gergo's eyes shot over to her. He hated when she did that, it was never good news. "Uh, Mister Elek, you might want to take a look at this..." He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. He felt another day of his life slip away due to stress. He took the tablet and watched the looping video. His eyes narrowed as it looped four more times. He pulled up the next video, which was of the same room, from a different angle. The shot was less clear, but it confirmed his thoughts. He handed the tablet back to his assistant and immediately pulled out another cigarette. Aubrey was ready with a lighter before he could even close the pack.

"How ze fuck did she even get into ze States? Ugh..." He blew a ring of smoke. "I can't really say I'm surprised. Hell, she's probably done is dozens of times before vizout being caught. Slimy bitch." Gergo looked out of the window again, watching Saint Leo's Church come into, and then quickly leave, his vision. The driver, Christoffer, already knew where their new objective was. "I vant eyes on zat building. Get me detailed scans on every person inside, clearance or not. Keep ze Svarm out of zis, I don't vant any more funeral costs. I only vant vone guard, but zey have to be cloaked. Depending on ze signal, you know vhat to do." His assistant nodded in unison with three bodyguards. Each of them aggressively tapped away at a tablet. Gergo rubbed his temples as he tried to calm himself best he could.

After a clusterfuck of a ride due to the unholy traffic conditions of Baltimore, further amplified by being driven around in a not-quite-legal APC, Gergo took a deep breath before walking in the front door of John Hopkin's Hospital. He knew exactly where he was headed. His head was pounding, and his wore an expression that roughly translated as 'don't look at me for more than two seconds.' Without a word, he took a seat next to the criminal. "So..." He didn't turn to face her, instead looking straight ahead at the end of the hall. "Vasn't expecting to see you here. How have sings been?"

welian

 

[Gus]

Aaron Mallory
​

Location: John's Hopkins, Room 105
Nearby: JJ, Matron, Gergo, and others.
@s: Malikai welian The Oldest Blueberry Teh Frixz

Aaron drifted through the liminal space between fighting to stay awake and desperately wanting to close his eyes, even for just a moment. The modified hospital bed was unevenly firm, lumpy and smelled unpleasantly of latex and disinfectant. His throat was sore and dry from the oxygen, and the steady trickle of cold air through his nostrils was threatening to cause a sinus headache as well.

All of that was merely physically unpleasant however. The really difficult thing about being awake was the thinking. Thinking about what he might have done differently. Thinking about how many people were hurt or killed because he had held back too much. Thinking about how much worse it could have been if he had not exercised restraint. His thoughts chased themselves around and around, pointlessly painful, and helpless to stop.

The only relief from this was sleeping, and yet he fought this, because with sleep came the risk of dreaming. Dreams of his students burned and bleeding, sightless eyes accusing him wordlessly of failing them. Dreams of the laughter of the woman who had taken him down. Of his impotent rage building at her casual cruelty until he dragged her down into the dirt next to him and his hands found her throat. He stopped her laughter, and it was so deliciously, seductively easy. Her armor, as well as the flesh beneath it, offered no more resistance than cobwebs. And when there was nothing left of her, no evidence that she had ever even been, he would awaken feeling sick.

Sometimes he would dream of the long walk to the hospital, and the EMT who had walked with him, Sully, without whom he might have simply laid down and given up on the fight for each new breath. Sully had kept him talking, given him encouragement and oxygen while he rested. Oxygen which, looking back, he suspected had been laced with something. It had made him feel ok about things somehow, walking with Sully. One foot in front of the other. Perhaps it was just the exercise that had kept the thoughts at bay while he walked, but he’d not have made it here alone in any case. It had taken nearly three days and Sully had never once left his side. He was grateful beyond words.

And yet, in his dreams, Sully was capricious and cruel, tripping him and belittling him and leading him astray. They walked through a desolate wasteland, and somehow Aaron knew: this was where Baltimore had once been, and he was responsible for whatever had befallen the city. There were dark shadows everywhere, lurking. Whispering. He had let them loose. And when they had come for him, Sully had held him down.

His eyelids drooped. Something heavy and wet was sitting on his chest. He struggled against the weight of it, his breathing suddenly ragged and labored. It flowed up his neck and across his chin and as it began to slither down his throat his eyes snapped open in panic. The heart-rate monitor beat a staccato rhythm which was almost as upsetting as the new dream had been. His lungs were heavily congested and it had settled in deep while he slept. He sat up, coughing spasmodically until he had cleared what felt like half a liter of phlegm. When he could speak again, he buzzed for a nurse.

“Could I have a phone please? I need to check on someone, make sure she is ...ok.”

 

[Tyrannosaurus Rekt]

MISSION: Investigate 108
oh hey, that rhymed
LOCATION: Facility 108
MOOD: Bleh
GEAR: Supersuit, 10 Burgers, Taser, and Wallet
TAGS: None

Chernov’s glasses-covered eyes pressed into Sully’s own pale orbs. Her fingers stretched for a cigarette that didn’t exist. Her manicured nails bit into her palm as she made sure he was following her every word. She asked him to investigate the facility, 108, the same one he’d gone to when he was a wayward little shit. They’d inspected the place—thoroughly—but he was the sort of person that could go where he wanted when he wanted. So, he was good at inspecting places and things that others couldn’t get to. Also, he was people savvy. Maybe he could inspect the security tapes and work through a few things based on body language. He agreed. Honestly, he had no choice. Chernov was his boss, and he needed a job. He was never going back to Costco.

Unfortunately, Sully had misjudged the time. He woke up late, got high, and forgot that he had a mission. He was still a little high when walked into his favorite burger place. He’d ordered twelve of them. Twelve made sense to him. Now that he was sobering up, he eyed the plastic sack with a little of skepticism. Sure, he was practically a sentient blackhole, but twelve, really—twelve?

He parked his old Jeep Chief in the parking lot. It was a dull sky blue and filled with alcohol bottles, empty cartons of cigarettes, and a lot of fast-food wrappers. The rain pelted against his skin. He looked at the sky. The drops of cold water pressed against his flesh and caught in his hair. He flipped his jacket hood up. The facility looked rough. He slipped through a crack in the locked gate and approached the front. He tried the door. It was locked. Of course, it was. He patted himself. Chernov had given him keys. He had a moment of realization that he forgot them. “Dammit,” he grumbled. He dropped his burgers to the ground, peeled his boots, jacket, and pants off. He stood there in his suit. It was then that he flattened himself long and very very thin to slide under the door. He practically went two-dimensional. He slid up on the other side and reformed. Angry and bored, he unlocked the doors and grabbed his things. Quickly dressing and toting way too many burgers, he made his way down the hall.

The place wasn’t entirely shut down. While students weren’t permitted here, that didn’t mean that faculty couldn’t show up. So, he wasn’t surprised at the sound of people mulling around and lights on.

Sully eyed all the scarring from the bullets, splotches of unwashed blood, and the damage left by it. He tsked under his breath. It was sad. When had the world turned into this monster? He remembered attending classes here. It was very simple. It was also very unfair. But he didn’t have to worry about extremists coming in and murdering people. The worst thing he had to worry about was a literal atomic wedgie. Jerk.

He had a priority, first. When he was a student here, he left a lot of weed in the ceiling. He wondered if it was still there. It didn’t take much walking to discover his first hidey hole. He stretched upwards, feeling his jacket no longer connecting with his waist. He pressed his hands against the ceiling panels and pushed upwards. There it was, a small plastic bag with three blunts. Oh, younger Sully, you were a gift to whatever god you liked to believe in. He grabbed those and reformed. Knowing that he’d really need to find a secluded place, he tucked them into his back pocket. Damn, this mission was about to be epic. Burgers, weed and looking for something that didn’t exist—best hours he’d ever be paid for.

 

[Teh Frixz]

Tabitha Crane

Location: Third pew from the end
Nearby: Director Chernov, Manami Hamasaki
@s: welian Zahzi Gus

Her parents had made her come to church.

Like actually made her. During the entirety of the service all Tabby could focus on was the mess of her torn up room from where Mom ripped through her closet. Yelling about 'growing up' and 'getting over this' Tabby sobbing while her dad just shook his head in the doorway. It'd gotten so bad that her limiter even pinged when it suppressed some growth. That really set her over the edge. After it all started to cool down, they just got cleaned up in silence and Tabby got in the car without protest. When they got to the church, Tabby was really was amazed at how some people could flip a switch and act so differently than they were feeling. Tabby wasn't one of those people and neither was her dad, who she thought was coming off as stiff and hostile to everyone. Mom was doing her politician thing and it looked good. Too good and all it did was make her sick during the majority of the service.

As soon as it ended, Tabby excused herself and hurried down the aisle towards the alcove and subsequently the bathrooms. Pulling the latch she was met with resistance and a high pitched 'occupied'. Throwing the latch down hard enough to communicate her displeasure to the occupant, Tabby slowly backed off and walked back inside the church proper.

A whiff of smoke caught her attention as what might have been the person previously speaking was smoking under an awning. A hooded kid was talking to them and for some reason, the smoking just clicked something in her.

Tabitha took a pair of her customary long, loping, steps and with the kid standing in front of her, she stomped once. Brushing her hair out of her face, Tabitha pointed a finger. "This is a church and there are kids here. Can you not smoke?" Tabby mouthed the first few words of 'Are you that rude?' but couldn't bring herself to actually say it out loud.

 

[Lemon Boy]

Mood: Worried
Location: An abandoned warehouse + Approaching John's Hopkins
Company: Four Knights; Evelyn, Jasper, Camille & Blake + Formerly two unknown allies, now no one.
@'s: N/A
Other: I'm so sorry about the fact I've written a fucking novel for a first post.

Good ShepherdChristian resisted the urge to remove his helmet and rub his temples as he listened to the endless arguing happening only a few feet away from where he and Blake were setting things up. He didn't dare intervene, mainly out of concern for his own health but also for the fact that these monitors needed to be up and running for him to be able to do what he needed.

"Can't believe we're the ones being made to do this menial shit. We finally do something big, kill a bunch of uncontrolled animals and become the center of attention like we should, and now we're sneaking around a hospital stealing shit? Don't see why we can't just shoot up the place instead of doing dumb crap like this," Evelyn said, kicking an empty crate in annoyance to emphasise her point.
"Stop questioning the tasks bestowed upon us by the living saint herself. It's blasphemous."
"Fuck off with your evangelical shit Jasper. No need to be Crucifixion Tit's bitch when she's not here."
"I'll crush you for that, whore," Jasper shouted, the gauntlets he wore whirred to life, a warm orange glow emanating from them that grew more intense by the second. In response, Evelyn's finger found the trigger of her shotgun. Christian felt a pang of concern and panic flare up in his chest and was just about ready to step in when Camille did so for him. She was smaller than the both of them, with pretty and lithe features more befitting of a model rather than a soldier, but they both looked horrified as she came close. All she did was give them a look each and they backed off.

"Thanks Camille," Christian sighed, giving Evelyn and Jasper a look of his own. They didn't even look intimidated or concerned when he glared at them. He wasn't surprised. They'd all seen what Camille could do and it was more disturbing and horrifying than any Super they'd fought. Where Christian had focused his augmentations on enhancing his thinking power, her augmentations had enhanced her capacity to torture and kill in ways that no man should have access too. Many of the Knights were suspicious of Christian, not approving of what he did to himself, but she was on another level entirely. A high enough level that people didn't have the courage to question what she'd allow the surgeons, engineers and scientist's to do to her body. Camille simply nodded in acknowledgement of the thanks and slinked back to her corner, stretching her limbs as she did so.

"Now, if you two are done fighting, do you two mind helping me set these monitors up? We do have a schedule to meet and if we don't meet it, Raguel will have all of our heads."
"We're not even fucking doing anything for god's sake. You're the one doing the work. We just have to babysit you to make sure you don't get bloody shanked by a druggie in this damn dump," Evelyn growled, moving to help him despite her obvious displeasure
"As if looking after little Chrissy here is all that bad," Blake chimed in, smacking Christian on the shoulder as he spoke with one hand and flicking switches on with the other.
"Thanks Blake. Anyways, you're not just 'babysitting me' as you eloquently put it. You're making sure no vigilante's or Commonwealth Agents walk in on me. Once this damn thing is set up, I'm practically gonna be a temporary vegetable."
"Still don't see why we're the ones doing this. We're real Knights. Why can't that freaky clone do it? Isn't that her entire, wretched, purpose?"
"Avecca is busy. She isn't freaky either."
Evelyn scoffed at that. Jasper, meanwhile, gave him a look of approval.

A few minutes passed as everything was managed. Screens turned on, cables plugged and switches flicked. Everything needed to be done right, or Christian feared becoming a vegetable permanently.
"I think that's that. Green across the board and our friends are in position for drop-off. You ready Chrissy?"
"Not really. These Proxies aren't armed as far as I know, bit tougher and better than your average human, yet we're going in a place swarming with Supers who have dangerous, presumably strong, powers."
"Demons," Jasper said, quick to correct him.
"Yeah, them."
"It'll be fine. Worse comes to worst, the proxies get found out and destroyed. We don't. Always try again next time."
"Would there be a next time if we get found out?"
"Let's see how this goes first before we start thinking about hypothetical's, yeah?"
"Yeah. Ok," Christian said. He couldn't help the tinge of anxiety he was feeling color his tone.
Blake gave him a reassuring smile and a pat on the back before going to pick up the helmet connected to all the machinery by thick cables. It was a crude, clunky thing in comparison to the helmet Christian was wearing. There was no sleekness or aesthetic in it's design unlike much of the gear that the Knights utilised. Easy to mistake it for some sort of esoteric torture device of a bygone age. Stripping off the helmet he was currently wearing, he ran a hand through his hair and gave Blake a nod.

The helmet was put on and it was a tight fit, which made him worry even more about this whole thing. It wasn't just the fact that this thing could damn well kill him. It was also the fact that he wasn't so sure how he felt about going into a hospital, full of injured, and getting into a fight which could lead to casualties. He hoped that things went smoothly. Thoughts of hope, however, were quickly drowned out by feelings of pain and pressure, like a thousand needles being hammered into his brain all at once whilst a compactor slowly crushed his skull, as the helmet made a sound, coming to life. Then it stopped, and everything fell silent and dark.
Christian found himself in a car, two men sitting in the front looking at him intently with serious expressions, waiting. Rain fell lightly on the roof and everything was silent as he examined himself. He wasn't in his real body, not anymore. Breathing in and out, he moved his hands, forming a fist. Felt weird. Unnatural and off in a way that he couldn't describe.
"Everything good? You got your faculties?" One of the men said, examining him, top to bottom.
"I uh...think so," Christian said, in a voice that was higher and softer than his own. A woman's voice.
"Alright good. You're Ji-hye Su, a Lab Technician with a specialisation in haematology. You've worked in John's Hopkins for two years. Personality wise, you're quiet, dedicated and professional with very few friends. Good for you, less awkward encounters. If anyone asks why you haven't been in the past week, your little brother passed away as a result of an aggressive tumour. Desmoplastic small-round-cell tumour if people ask for specifics for whatever reason. Assuming you know what the mission is?"
"Yeah. Steal patient records."
"Good, good. Once you've got those records, get out, contact us and we'll arrange a meeting place. If you're compromised in any way whatsoever, run. If it looks like they're about to capture you, you need to kill yourself. There's a panel on your left wrist and under that, a few numbers. The code is 4040. That'll active the self-destruct mechanism. Don't need them finding out where we get our tech from."
"Alright," Christian said, nodding along. So much to take in and remember. He felt the doubt creeping in. "Anything else I need to know?"
"No, that'll be all. Here's your ID card, a phone with our contact in and the USB. May Raguel guide you," The man said, bowing his head as he passed all of the stuff along.
Muttering a thanks, he stepped out of the car, and that alien feeling grew ever more intense. It was like he was in a dream, and every movement he made threatened to wake him. Feeling the rain against his skin wasn't so alien; a comfort.

Looking around in the dark, rain trickling down his skin, he saw the hospital in the distance and approached, ready to carry out his mission. He prayed that it would go well. So long as it went according to plan, he didn't need to kill anyone. No one had to get hurt.

 

[ChaosZereul]

Zayne Richards​

Mood: Tired and Frustrated
Location: Johns Hopkins "108 Ward"
Nearby: Luis and several others
Barrier Health: ▰

​

Luis Gonzalez
Role: Zayne's Childhood Friend
Power: Leaps and Bounds (launches air bursts from feet)
Status: Severely Wounded, but awake and alert

In the "108 Ward" of Johns Hopkins, fairly few things seemed out of the ordinary. Families were sitting with their loved ones, friends were saying their goodbyes as visiting hours were coming to a close, and all of the reluctant residents were gearing up for another uneventful night in their hospital beds.

And then there was Zayne, who looked more like he belonged in a Library than a Hospital. He had spent most of the day at Johns Hopkins - as well as the past few days - visiting his childhood friend Luis who had been seriously injured in the attack. The two had been long-distance friends ever since Luis obtained his powers, so Zayne relished the opportunity to catch up with his oldest and best friend. However, there was only so much one could do while restricted to a hospital bed, and the two had more or less exhausted all of those options hours ago. Now, Zayne sat beside his friend's bed, using a spare side table he borrowed from another patient as a makeshift desk. Strewn about both it and the foot of Luis' bed were a series of books of different subjects, as well as various worksheets, the one in front of Zayne being of the Math variety. Zayne slowly chewed on his mechanical pencil as he stared at the worksheet in front of him, pausing a moment before sliding it over to his friend. "How do you solve this one?"

Luis stared at the worksheet for a moment, then responded, "You gotta flip the variables around, like this," grabbing a spare pencil and showing his work as best he could.

Zayne scratched the back of his head and grumbled. Math was not his best subject...well, few subjects were, but he particularly wasn't fond of math. As Zayne erased some of his erroneous work, Luis stared at his friend. He could tell being around so many people all day was draining Zayne, as his frustration had been building more and more over the last hour as he pored over his tutor's workload. "Why don't you head back to your apartment? Visiting hours are almost over, and I can help you more tomorrow if you want."

Zayne paused, then shook his head, his gaze never once leaving his worksheet. "...S'lonely..."

Zayne's short utterance carried significant meaning to Luis. Zayne had spent most of his life living in the same room as his little brother, and during one of their previous conversations over the past week Zayne had mentioned that, while his apartment was supposed to have another occupant, he had been injured in the attack as well. It wasn't hard to put together that Zayne felt uncomfortable being all alone, despite his introverted nature. Luis shrugged, accepting his friend's company for however long the hospital would allow, and grabbed the Math book on Zayne's "desk" to idly flip through it until Zayne had another question.

 

[The Fuzzy Pixel]

Logan Warrain
Location: Brahn Bakery
With:
Syrenrei : Susan Sanders | welian : Jules Brahn​

It went without saying that things were worse than he had expected here in Baltimore. Scarlet hadn’t been expecting last week’s attack. No one had, and that much was obvious. Placing blame for the loss seemed to be all the rage in the political world as reality weighed down the masses with fear and grieving. As much of a tragedy as the incident was there was no rest for those acting in defiance of Raguel’s persecution. Tensions were already high out on the streets, but the truly heated shouting matches happened behind closed doors. Everything always came back to one simple question.

What do we do?

There was no simple answer as far as Logan was concerned. Nothing was ever simple with terrorists, and he should know. The Commonwealth didn’t want to hear his assessments, though; honesty didn’t count for much when it was a truth no one wanted to hear. They needed more information, and there would be more blood spilled before this was over. All things came to an end eventually, and so too would these ‘Knights.’ Whether it was the FBI, the police, the Commonwealth, or even civilian vigilantes who dealt the final blow, it was all the same to him. What mattered to Logan in the here and now was expediting the process while minimizing casualties.

Although, perhaps that wasn’t entirely correct. Work aside there were other things that mattered to him in the present. People, to be exact. He had made sure his daughter hadn’t been one of the statistics from the shooting, and that she was fine of course. There was another person who had his attention for the past week, though. A certain teacher who had just as much a knack as he did for getting entangled in red tape.

After Susan had been arrested last week for removing her limiter Logan had insisted on going to the police station as well to provide his own testimony as a federal agent. Things went smoothly enough; or as smooth as was possible given that school shooting had just occurred. They were both out of the station in several hours. Logan still had his own questions for Susan, but he figured if there was something she wanted him to know she would have shown him herself. Everyone had their secrets, and he understood that. Between the long hours of investigations, paperwork, and fieldwork the two had kept in touch over the past week.

It was an almost guilty pleasure for Logan. It nearly felt wrong to find a taste of happiness throughout the moody present, and share in that taste they did during the late nights. The two had several dates recently, and it wouldn’t be far from the truth to say that those meetings were what carried Logan through the exhausting week.

Tonight there would be a new challenge, however. One that he couldn’t combat with fists or guns, and one that had been coming for decades now. It was strange to him, deliberately walking into a situation that made him feel vulnerable. Standing in front of the Brahn’s bakery was almost surreal for him, but he maintained a pleasant facade. Tonight was for Susan’s sake. Mrs. Brahn had wanted to thank her in person for her efforts last week, and Logan couldn’t find it in himself to say no when asked if he wanted to come along. He reached for the front door despite the closed sign hanging from it, and pulled. The lights inside were welcoming, as was the warmth.

Shelter from the rain wasn’t a problem with Susan around. The open black jacket Logan wore was more for holding heat in than anything else, really. He was dressed more casually for this event, with only a white button up shirt with its long sleeves neatly rolled up to his elbows underneath his jacket. The top button was left undone, but the shirt was still tucked cleanly into his black pants as well. Black leather shoes came to stand side by side as he held the door open for Susan.

“A personal visit from a real superhero,” commented the man with a coy smile and arched brow, “..can’t say I’m not jealous.”

 

[Syrenrei]

Luther Rousseau
"Reliquary"
Location: AEGIS Facility 108
Near: Sullivan ( Tyrannosaurus Rekt ) ; Viola ( Giyari )​

Luther arrived at AEGIS Facility 108 in a vehicle she would not have normally driven even under duress; a boring, foreign, silver sedan. She could not help as seethe with rage every time she stepped into the vehicle. The Physical Discipline assistant instructor was angry that terrorists had attacked the school she worked at after she had abanoned her military and military consultant past, she was angry that there had been significant injuries and some casualties, she was angry that they had destroyed part of the building requiring repairs and the temporary shut down of the facility, but most of all she was furious that they had destoyed her precious motorcycle. The insurance company had been sympathetic and very careful with their words regarding her claim. Luther wasn't sure if this was because they knew of her military background, her emotional state, or because they were afraid of poor diction ending up blasted on media and giving them a bad image. Regardless of the reasons they had explained it would take some time to assess the worth of her motorcycle, total it out, and send her a check. In the mean time she had a rental. Getting a nicer rental, such as an SUV, was an extra cost. An SUV would be nicer than a sedan but it wasn't worth the difference in price. Furthermore, she knew that driving an SUV would not result in her being even close to happy. It was better to suck it up and drive the shiny piece of shit that she didn't have to pay out of pocket for.

After parking the car Luther got out, locked the car, and kicked the tire in frustration. With Facility 108 closed there was not much to do except be angry. Classes had been suspended. At least one teacher was in the hospital- Aaron- and a few students were still recovering physically there as well. Emotional and psychological damage would take months, if not years, to try to resolve. The facility itself had needed repairs for some time but now they had to do a major overhaul to get rid of all the signs that there had been an attack. Blood had to be washed away, the parking deck had to be rebuilt, the clinic had to be completely renovated, they had to re-pour concrete and asphalt where it was impaled with metal spikes, and furniture had to be replaced. Luther didn't do well with nothing to do. When they had called her asking if she'd be interested in working security until lessons started again she was ecstatic.

She strode towards the facility. Instead of wearing 'normal' clothes she was wearing her suspersuit this event. Guarding the facility meant that she needed to make the best use of her abilities in an emergency- thus the supersuit. The real intention of the design was the shock and sexy factor but in the darkness she blended into the night. Only her face and hands were not covered in the slick, snug, shiny black material. Her hair had been pulled back into a high ponytail and over her shoulder was slung a M16A2 5.56 rifle with a scope for night. There was more likely to be some punks with spray paint, nosy journalists, weepy bleeding hearts, or overly curious morbidity enthusiasts than more Knights of Raguel. The gun would scare people off even more than her poor attitude, however, and went a long way to avoiding calling the police for a trespasser.

"Hey Jim, I'm here so you can take off now if you want," she said into her phone as she made a quick call. Her expression soured when she heard Jim had taken off a little earlier than he was supposed to because he was 'bored.' It was a shame she wasn't her superior. Luther would love to have been able to reprimand her temporary 'co-worker' with some of the things used in the army. The thought of Jim at her mercy made her smile.

"HELLO HELLO FACILITY 108," she called out as she stepped inside the fence and past the old, broken crime scene tape. There were some flower wreaths, stuffed animals, and other sentimental tokens in front of the main doors in a makeshift memorial for the lives lost. Luther had never understood the need of strangers to deposit things at the place of tragedies but she didn't stop them either when they showed up. Everyone had their coping mechanisms. Luther just wished they instead made donations to funds for the families in need as the result of the attack- or contributed to the facility's repairs. It was a better use of money than a teddy bear for someone not even alive. She had passed a car she didn't recognize on her way in, and she knew it wasn't Jim's as he had left, so that meant someone was probably here. Hopefully one of the weepy types with a candle for the display. Luther was sure as shit not cleaning up graffiti by teenagers. "I MIGHT HAVE HIT A CAR IN THE PARKING LOT, ANYONE WANT TO CLAIM IT?" she called out. It was a total lie but they didn't know that.

 

[Malikai]

Jeremiah "JJ" Johnson
Location: The Hospital, AKA The Hospital Scene
Around: Aaron ( Gus ), Zayne ( ChaosZereul ), and anybody else in the hospital really​

The hospital was a horrible place. There was nothing that could ever change that. It was a place of injured people. A place of emotional pain. A place of death and disease. Jeremiah had hoped he would never go back to this place up until the day he died, but fate wasn't always kind. During his first night back Jeremiah couldn't sleep. It was only being dragged into unconsciousness that had given him any sense of rest. Even still that rest was unsatisfying and far too short. The second day he was here the images of the attack on the facility had come back at him in full force, forcing their way up into the light. Much like his breakfast had several moments after.

Jeremiah felt horrifically embarrassed for the nurses that had to care for him. They had to care for some idiot kid that likely would have been perfectly fine if he had just done nothing. They had to care for somebody who was so clearly not a hero. Jeremiah had asked to be wheeled over to the sink on that second day, requesting from the nurse that he be left alone. He sat there, staring at his reflection and letting his thoughts consume him, This is horrible. I have to be taken care of because I got a bit sick when there is so many other people that deserve care over me. Why the hell did Juliana have to pick me up from that facility? It would have been better to just leave me to bleed out. Jeremiah stared at his reflection and felt the disgust building up at himself. Another time that a nurse had to clean up after him, this time because of thoughts that he had generated.

The operation to remove his ear happened on that fourth day. It was inevitable really. The piece of string that was once his right ear was hardly held on by bandages, and it didn't take much to take it off. Jeremiah had gotten some instructions from Venus, the nurse that had been taking care of him, on some of the therapy he would need to go through. Apparently the switch to monaural hearing involved a bit of recovery, which was something that Jeremiah had to look forward to after he finished his physical therapy. The nurse had left two crutches by his bedside, and after she went to go check on another patient Jeremiah was quick to try them out. Of course trying them out involved falling on his face immediately and not being able to get back onto his bed.

Jeremiah had gotten a bit better at moving with the crutches by his sixth day. That was also the day he had gone up to where some of the patients in a coma were held. The specific room he had gone to was the last spot he had seen his mother. At least, it was where he had last seen his mother alive. Before he had so needlessly killed her, Already talked to a doctor about that. It was in my head. She wasn't really 'there'. This did little to keep the thoughts from springing up.

Finally it was a week after the attack. Jeremiah was still inefficient at moving around with crutches, but he could make do. Ever since he used his powers in the attack, Jeremiah had been unable to call on them again. He had tried several times throughout his stay. Each time there was nothing. It was as if he was completely cut off from using them. He hadn't mentioned this to the doctors, and not even to Juliana, who had been texting him nonstop since he got into the hospital. It was starting to worry him that even when he would take off his limiter he couldn't feel anything.

Having had enough of just waiting for it to return with little luck he decided he should finally ask somebody about them. It just so happened that there was a teacher extremely close by! Jeremiah had gotten a bit of concern from Venus as he warily stepped up and held onto his crutches, but after a few rocky steps she let him be. Jeremiah had made his way slowly over to where the coughing man was, "Uh, excuse me Mr. Mallory? I'm sorry, are you busy right now? I can come back later if you are. It's just I was hoping to talk to you a bit and..." Doubt was too light a word for how Jeremiah felt about talking to Mr. Mallory about this. He was a trustworthy person, but he was already dealing with his own sickness. How much could he deal with Jeremiah's problem on top of that? Jeremiah continued much more unsteady, "I have a bit of a problem with... myself."

 

[Giyari]

Mood: Amused
Location: 6A4: Saint Leo’s Roman Catholic Church
Company: Belgrave, Green.
@'s: -
Other: Introducing Commonwealth's newest Agent team.

Agent Dawlish
The streets outside the church were "empty" to an extent. Only persons cleared for entry had been allowed through the barricades. There was a media perimeter set up just inside the public limit, but that didn't stop some from attempting to sneak through buildings alleyways for that special shot. Standing by the church steps on the corner, Agent Dawlish and Belgrave kept a watch over their surroundings, warding off any unwanted attention from the press vultures looking to profit from others misery.

"It's too cold for this..." Belgrave muttered from under an umbrella held aloft to ward off the downpour. She watched her breath drift from between her lips into the dull night as the murmur of voices further down the road came and went through the patter of raindrops.

"Could be worse. Would you rather be stood here in the searing heat? Rain's one thing but eugh, sweat... no." Milly responded from under her own umbrella, her eyes gazing over the streetlight lit crossroads to the police cars keeping the curious onlookers occupied.

They had been out here for god knows how long now, the time crept by minute after minute, hour after hour. They were here long before the service began and it was looking likely that they would be here long after too. All in a days work for an Agent of commonwealth, peace keeping, security, and delegation was just a handful of their many roles.


A gentle clunk of the churches door behind her caught Milly's attention as out of the shadows of the church's doorway, she spotted two eyes glinting in the distant light. The eyes belonged to the teams third member, Agent green. Quietly the man approached them, his long dredlocked hair tied back in a loose bun, his dark olive skin offsetting the brilliant crystalline gleam of his jewel like eyes.


"I'll take over out here, you two go get some coffee or whatever." he said casually, grabbing Milly's umbrella from her hand and nodding towards the church doors.

"Sure, give me a shout if you spot anything unusual!" Milly responded as she rushed for the cover of the church's porch now that her protection from the elements had been stolen. Belgrave was quick behind her, sighing loudly at the thought of being inside and out of the downpour for a while. As quickly and quietly as they could, the two agents made their way through the heavy oak doors and into the church.

~~~~~~~~~~​

Inside the dimly lit church, the brilliant murals that had been visible earlier on in the sunlight through the windows were now mostly obscured by shadows. The service appeared to have only just finished, with a number of bodies milling about the aisles and fiddling with their jackets. Some stayed seated as they took in all the words that had been spoken, others... Others wrapped in embraces as the memories of the attack, or the victims from their lives, came flooding back. Looking over to the left of the entrance, there was a small hand written sign directing to a sort of makeshift refreshments area down a set of stairs into the church's community hall.

It was quiet down in the hall, a few quiet groups chatting to each other dotted around but no one of any apparent note, and likewise it appeared they were of little note themselves. Walking over to a self serve collection of large silver hot drink urns, Milly poured herself a mug of black coffee, and a mug of hot water, into which Belgrave unceremoniously baptised a tea bag and threw a spoonful of sugar at. Topping her coffee up with a little milk, Milly took a sip and let out a quiet sigh.

"Man, I didn't know how much I needed this until it hit my lips." she muttered, brushing her fringe back out of her eyes as she went for another drink from the lightly steaming mug.

"Ohhh I knew, I fu-... knew." Belgrave stuttered, catching herself before she cursed out loud in a holy building. Milly smiled, stifling a laugh as Belgrave scowled and gave her a light punch on the arm, taking a drink of her tea before spluttering and coughing.

"Ahshit! Hot!" she blurted in shock, sticking her tongue out as various eyes around the room turned her way. Blushing at her outburst, Belgrave quickly bowed an awkward apology and turned her back away from the eyes now staring into her skin.

"Oh god, you're hopeless." Milly giggled quietly, trying to hold herself together as Belgrave quickly fell apart.

"Shut up, idiot." Belgrave muttered into the zipper of her jacket.

 

[Lemon Boy]

Mood: Content > Angered but motivated
Location: The abandoned train tunnels of Baltimore
Company: None
@'s: welian
Other: Better luck next time pal.

Isaac ThorburnWood creaked and cracked as Isaac made his way throughout the abandoned train tunnels, crushing a pile of used needles as he made his way through the dilapidated area. He had a certain fondness for places like this: it was quiet, devoid of people and authority that could get in his way, full of drugged up idiots that he could scare off by making his presence known and there was something interesting about exploring the forgotten places that had been left behind by the majority of civilisation. The vast majority of his enjoyment, however, came from the fact that it was the forgotten crevices like this that allowed vigilante's like him to thrive. Criminals were rife in areas such as this, using sections as makeshift bases to hide away from those seeking to capture them or staging grounds to prepare for something big, a plan they were enacting or how to deal with a rival gang about to make a move on them and their people. Unlike the criminals, the usual heroes and authorities rarely frequented places such as this. The Police were too focused on the obvious, The Commonwealth didn't do anything at all nowadays and the vast majority of blue cards much preferred to go to the places where they could get the spotlight whilst bagging the scum of the earth. Isaac, on the other hand, was more than happy to make these tunnels and the other dark, forgotten locations his stomping grounds.

As he moved through the tunnels, navigating into a different region that seemed even more wrecked than the rest, he noticed the distant blare of techno music coming from deeper within. Some druggies he guessed, holding a rave of all things in a place like this. He began to quicken his pace to get to the source, however, he failed to notice the slight bulge covering the wall to his left that erupted the second he came close. Isaac was shoved hard into the floor with a crash as a black scaled stake slammed into him, tip piercing the upper layers of his armour and stopping as it met further resistance. The music stopped and was briefly replaced by shouting before everything went silent for a few moments.

"Fuck. Shit," Isaac growled, smashing the middle part of the stake in an attempt to snap it. It bent. He drove his fist into it again, a few more times, and it finally gave, snapping. No longer pinned against the floor by...whatever it was that had tried to impaled him, he regained his footing and ripped out the tip of the stake from his side, throwing it hard into the ground. It hadn't penetrated deep enough to hit Isaac himself, but the fact it had went deep was more than a mere concern. Someone else might've gotten ripped in half entirely. Isaac began to run towards where he last heard where the music was coming from, ready to beat the shit out of whoever set that little trap up.

What he found wasn't what he wanted at all. He found the stereo where the music had been coming from, a couple of small tables, chairs and crates full of drugs at the end of a tunnel, prematurely ended by the fact that a part of it collapsed, the rest blocked off by a mountain of concrete, yet he found no people. A foot crashed into one of the crates, sending it flying and exploding in a spray of wooden splinters and white powder as it met the wall. He'd fucked it up. They ran. Venting his frustrations, Isaac destroyed the rest of the junk, including the drugs, that the music players had left behind, especially the stereo that had been playing the techno music earlier. If they came back, they wouldn't have anything to take, but he doubted that they would if they were actually smart. Minutes passed and eventually the mild satisfaction of destroying the stuff they had left behind became fleeting.

"Might as well see if there are any other idiots in this fucking place," He said to himself, leaving the wrecked scene behind as he returned to patrolling the tunnels in search of criminals making their home in the abandoned train tunnels. It was a vain hope, anyone with a set of working ears surely would've heard some of the commotion he had caused, but Isaac hoped that they were stupid enough to stay around so he could deal with them himself. He hadn't properly dealt with any criminals in weeks and he had a hunger to deal with the scum of the earth that needed to be sated.

 

[Gus]

Lucas Marsolet
​

Location: Johns Hopkins PT floor
Mood: Depressed-->Elated
Nearby: Maureen Williams, Probably others also.
@s Malikai welian The Oldest Blueberry Necessity4Fun

Lucas lay in his bed, staring at the ceiling. More accurately, he stared at the narrow strip of bright blurred off-white that he supposed was the ceiling. He was not entirely sure what the point of anything was anymore, and the sound of rain pattering lightly on the windows of his hospital room just served to reinforce his feeling that he might as well stay in bed. He rolled on his side and closed his eyes, hoping maybe he could sleep. Instead, he found himself replaying the last week’s encounters with the doctors. A bunch of techno-babble about ‘unknown bio-regenerative limitations’ that boiled down to: they didn’t understand why his eyes wouldn’t heal like his cuts would. Their best guess was that his electrical regeneration was more like ordinary healing, accelerated by the energy available in the power grid, but not fundamentally any more miraculous than a bone or cut mending itself. Whole organs, it seemed, were beyond his abilities to regrow. Options for bionics had been ruled out as fundamentally incompatible with his biology. Even with his limiter turned up to full, eye surgery was a dicey proposition at best, and even if successful, his prosthetics would probably fall out if he ever turned his limiter back down again, and certainly could not travel with him through wires.

So this was his life now. Blind as a bat. A useless, pointless drain on society’s resources. He thought of Johanna. Of her faith in him, and her sacrifice. He felt crushed under the weight of it. His days as a hero were over. Not that he’d ever really amounted to much in that department anyway…

“Osti du marde.” he muttered rolling back over and forcing himself to sit up. “C’est plus que suffisant, tabarnak...” Maybe he was useless, but lying in bed feeling sorry for himself was not going to make that any better. He felt around with his feet for his slippers and was just standing up when he felt the air change, ever so slightly, behind him. He turned reflexively to look, but couldn’t make out what had caught his attention. Then a bright and cheerful voice chirped “Oh good, you’re up!” His physical therapist, Maureen. He knew she was probably at least twenty years older than he was, but her voice made his stomach do flip flops, and she smelled nice. Glad that she hadn’t caught him moping, he smiled in her general direction, hoping he didn’t look completely ridiculous in his hospital gown.

“Heya, Ms. Williams. Was thinking I’d go for a walk…”

“Oh, without me?! Lucas I’m hurt. More pointedly, where would I be if you got hurt?” her tone was lightly teasing, but with a hint of ‘not kidding in the slightest’ underlying that. He grinned sheepishly, protesting that he could see enough to avoid walking into walls at least, but she was having none of it and offered her elbow and his cane.

As with their previous excursions, she led him on a grand tour of the hospital, with plenty of practice on the stairs as well as the elevator. At first, he had tried to rely on what little remained of his vision to navigate, but over time he was finding it was easier to just close his eyes and trust her guidance. The cane however, was still awkward and felt unnatural. When she would let him go and force him to rely on just feeling out his environment he was still having trouble. Instinctively, he wanted to freeze and wait for her to take his arm again, but she was having none of that and waited him out.

He began to creep forward, slowly at first, but little by little he began to gain confidence. It definitely helped to keep his eyes closed. Freed from the distraction of confusing, shifting patterns of light and dark blurs, his attention expanded into his other senses. He could hear the difference between hallways and open spaces now and about half the time he could tell there was an open door ahead a little before the cane confirmed it. In spite of his earlier dip into depression, he found himself enjoying the practice. His pace picked up. He could feel a corridor junction coming up. A split second before Maureen hollered for him to stop, he felt something barreling down on him from the hallway to right and threw himself back into her waiting arms.

“Sac a papier, what was that?!”

“Crash cart… more to the point, how did you know it was there, Lucas? I didn’t see it until they’d almost bowled you over and you somehow avoided it!”

Lucas pondered this. Had he heard the nurses’ footsteps? Not consciously… He could hear them calling out for people further down the side hall to gang way now. But it was more than that. He could feel the machine itself. Even from twenty feet down the hall, he could feel when it turned into a room. It was fainter now, but definitively there. His skin prickled with gooseflesh as the possibilities raced through his mind. What else could he feel? He straightened up and raised his hands, turning this way and that like a radar dish.

“What are you doing, Lucas?”

“Testing an idea. Are we near the nurses station?”

“...yes. But how--”

“Just a second.”

His eyes squinched tight, he concentrated. “I feel a little sort of prickle over that way… six of them, distinctly. And something… buzzing? Over there.”

“The nurses’ station has six workstations. Over there is a vending machine. You can… hear them? That’s easily 30 feet away! I’ve never seen a patient’s sense of hearing develop so quickly Lucas, that’s amazing!”

“I don’t hear them. I feel them. Like I did the crash cart. I can feel the electric charge buildup on the monitors. Maybe the buzz from the vending machine is from the coolant system or something.” He rotated his palms around him, exploring what else he could feel. The lights in the ceiling. Something faint, but nearby, knee high. “Is there… an outlet there?”

“Yes! How are you doing that?”

“I think… I think I can feel the alternating voltage in the wires. It’s like… like a hum. I want to try something… I’m going to turn down my limiter.”

“Wait, are you allowed--”

But he had already twisted the dial on his armband to zero. The monitors across the hall popped into crystal clear relief now, as did the chunky outline of the vending machine. The outlet was still pretty faint, but now he could feel the wires running through the walls and ceiling as well! They mapped his surroundings in a whole new way!

“Lucas?”

He trembled as he turned to face her. “I can feel it all, Ms. Williams! Everything with a current or a voltage! C’est incroyable!” He reached out and took her hands, feeling like his smile was going to crack his face right in two.

 

[Syrenrei]

Susan Sanders
"Undine"
Location: Brahn's Bakery
Near: Mrs. Brahn ( welian ) & Logan ( The Fuzzy Pixel )​

The week had not started off well. Unfortunately for everyone, her educated guess that the Knights of Raguel would attack the school on the day of the exam had been correct. Although she had been there to help (which undoubtedly surprised her enemy) they had not been without losses. Removing her limiter had summoned both the police and the Commonwealth and she had been understandably arrested. Letting an S Rank simply remove their limiter, which broke the law, without investigation would have had far-reaching consequences. Susan was all too happy to let them arrest and question her. Logan had been anxious but after a phone call from outside the department she had gone from a naughty super facing a reprimand to a valuable witness. The questions had become kinder. She had not let the poor situation affect her. Susan had been cooperative, pleasant, polite, and even charming even when she was initially accused of wrongdoing. In the end her attitude had helped expedite her release even more than the phone call.

Between the Knights of Raguel attack and the present there had been little for Susan to do. Her official job had asked her to wait for classes not to be suspended. She had cleaned the bay of the wreckage of the Hamasaki's boat and also removed some rather onerous pollution. Repairing buildings was not in her skill set or scope of her employment. In less official matters she also had nothing to do. Visiting the hospital would be awkward as she knew no students yet. She had heard about the wake but also decided not to attend for the same reasons. Perhaps her actions had seemed heroic but Susan was aware she could not live up to the first impressions the people at AEGIS Facility 108 had of her. The least she could do was keep a distance, wait for things to settle, and then carefully and delicately integrate herself (if at all).

With no developments on Imogen's kidnapping- which made her blood boil- she had dates with Logan. It had been a wonderful ray of sunshine in an otherwise overcast week. Years had passed since Susan really dated. She had a few very casual dalliances that never developed into anything meaningful. Logan, however, evoked more emotions from her than the last half dozen dates she had been on before him. He was well spoken, intelligent, gainfully employed, handsome, not wildly outside her dating range, and stable. It was a strange thing to call him considering what she knew about his past, but his demeanor made her feel secure. The ocean might ebb and flow but it fundamentally stays the same. So did Logan feel to her- and it was an analogy she rather liked.

"I'd be happy to personally visit you Mr. Warrain, but I'm afraid it would be a different experience than tonight. Or I would hope it would," she said with a coy smile and wink. "But I truly am not a superhero. I got my blue card for an 'in case' event. And true heroes ought not to remove their limiter. I rather think that I am the flattered one, being invited to the place of a highly talented baker and one of the most brilliant minds of our generation. Not only that, I have a rather dashing companion for the evening that I wager is a highly decorated man himself. I might be blinded by all the accolades you two deserve."

Blue was supposed to be the color of water but it was cliche to wear it as a manipulator of the element. Susan had chosen a plum-colored silk blouse, with a loose silk bow around the neck, and a dark wash of jeans. Balancing the need for both being relaxed and formal was a challenge in clothing. Normally she would have been several inches shorter, and felt it next to Logan, but tonight she wore platform stiletto heels of a designer brand that made her feel tall and confident.

 

[Necessity4Fun]

Aiden Eillie Fowler

​

Location: AEGIS Facility 108 - Entrance Gate
People Around: Viola, Luther and Sully (though unknown to Aiden himself)

--OOC Notes: (Yay! Aiden debuts in the main IC at last! If you ask me what this post is or where did it come from... I have no idea. But I sure enjoyed every minute of it :3 And as always I went too overboard with it, oops~!)--

*Something along the lines of extreme sadness, impotence and reflexion over the world's cruelty and unfairness, I think?*

The paintbrush had been finally set down as Aiden looked at the mere three strokes he had placed into the canvas and sighed in utter defeat. There had been an image, once prompted by a couple lines of a poem. There had been a vivid mental picture of what he had wanted to accomplish when he had started... But now, 20 minutes later nothing of that initial spark remained. The merciless muse had thrown the aspiring artist for a loop. That was becoming annoyingly frequent... And it was none's fault but his own.

The wall clock above the doorway wouldn't quit ticking time away from him, pressing, demanding a final decision was made before the day was over... Well, technically, it was already over. Perhaps deciding anything right now would be pointless, and there was always tomorrow......... For how long had the teen been repeating that line?
The calendar sitting by his workplace was saying 6 days, almost a week... A week?! He had been putting this off for that long already? How could it be that so much time had passed and yet, everything in his room remained the same, in the same places, in the same positions? Barely touched.

...How had he even spent the week?

Aiden felt like he had merely continued his routine as normal, however, the details of the experiences all faded together as if it everything had happened on the very same day. His sense of time was lost, he could barely recall the subjects of those days' classes. His body had definitely gone to school, but his mind had not. There was one thing, one desire that had been in the back of his head all this time, consuming his motivation to do anything else and in consequence twisting what little of self-esteem he had left.

The clock's hour hand then reached a new number: 6, like the number of days he had been living on auto-pilot. Days full of unread books, unfinished art endeavors, systematic routines he had barely felt go by.
And at that moment something clicked: Enough!

He placed the brush inside the glass of water by the desk and as the liquid was slowly dyed darker by the black paint, Aiden had closed and stored all of his art materials, put on a jacket and stepped outside the room on a sudden surge of energy that he hadn't felt in so long.
Cautiously making his way to the kitchen, the teen rehearsed the words in his head. It was such a simple request, yet a barrier of irrational fear and lacking courage had kept him from making it over and over and over again... Even now, as his mouth was opening to say the words, he still wasn't really sure of if he should:

"M-mom... I wanna visit 108."

The woman, that had been in the process of preparing dinner whilst also organizing some files for work, was taken by surprise and then slowly turned around to face her son. She had to be careful, if her reaction gave him even the slightest hint of disapproval, the boy could give up on the idea entirely, and despite how late it was getting Sophia saw the resolve in his gaze, even if weak. He needed this.

"Do you want me to go with you?"

It was Aiden's turn to express surprise. A positive response? For some reason, he had expected his request to be denied, but receiving the green sign was in fact, even more unnerving... Now he had to actually do it!!

"N-no...", he should have left it like that, but a couple lingering doubts prompted him to comment further, "But, uhh, now that I think about it, I don't have anything to bring..."

"You don't have to bring anything, A!", the mom had promptly responded, refusing to take the bait her son had laid down for her, "Your feelings should be more than enough. It's the thought that counts, right?"

And with his low reply of 'right' the situation had been defused.
What followed was a usual parent-child interaction, where Sophia went through a list of things the teen should bring with him, plus a list of reminders such as 'message me when you get there' and 'call me if you need anything.'

Then Aiden was off, waving goodbye to his mom as he closed the apartment's door, leaving behind the woman with a proud smile stamped on her face:

"Would you look at that, we're finally making some progress!", she had mused, extremely content with the fact that this time she didn't have to 'drag' him out of the house herself.

About 8:30 PM
Welp, it was raining. Aiden felt stupid for having forgotten to check any windows before deciding on this plan... The cold and rain would do absolutely no good to his asthma and he doubted that a closed facility would offer him any shelter, or if he'd even be allowed inside... Most likely not. At least he had brought an umbrella and put on a sweater under the jacket, he'd have to thank his mom for being so extraordinarily prepared and reminding him of doing these things. If it wasn't for her the teen would be soaping wet at this point.

He passed by Railroad Avenue, instantly being reminded of the first time he had made this path, 8 days ago. Heck, it wasn't even that long and he was already feeling nostalgic. Hey, wouldn't it be interesting if he ran on all of those people tonight as well? Oh right, all of the normal human beings had already paid their condolences earlier this week. He was probably the only late weirdo who somehow couldn't come to terms with the idea at a proper time. ...Great. And the score remains: Anxiety 10 x Aiden 0!

By the time he could recognize 108's outer walls, the teen had lost sight of the reason why he had come. No really, why had he come here? He wasn't even an actual student yet, and wouldn't be until the facility opened again. He didn't know anyone that had been in the attack unless someone from the cat invasion had, and in that case, he didn't know anything about that either!
But as his inner dilemma continued the boy's legs had not stopped and once he had become aware of his surroundings again he had found himself standing in front of the entrance gate.

He felt his heart tighten.

The makeshift memorial, the left-overs of what had once been akin to a war zone... The 108 from now conflicted with the one he had briefly seen before. This one was an expansion of the shocking images from the news and still, the poor lighting prompted his imagination to run wild and fill in gaps here and there. Under the tranquillity of the night lied a stage composed of prayers, desperation and suffering...!
Aiden's mind had wandered too far and suddenly he couldn't breathe.

Taking a step back in panic, the boy had released the umbrella, now rummaging his messenger bag for his inhaler, judging it to be asthma due to the weather. He found the object and made good use of it, and though it did help a bit, that did not seem to be the exact problem.
The teen picked the umbrella back up, placing the inhaler inside one of his jacket's pockets for easier access, and as if under a wicked spell his gaze returned to the wrecked 108. It was so terrible and yet his body seemed frozen in place, he couldn't leave nor look away... The lump on his chest seemed to spread upwards, locking not only the air passage but his entire throat.

Then oddly enough, yet extremely overdue, a soft and silent rain starting pouring under the umbrella as well...

 

[The Oldest Blueberry]

N O M A D​

What a shitty fucking week it had been. No more than thirty miles out of town, the first bus broke down. Another three-hundred miles? Well, take a guess what happened. Apparently, all these old, rusty buses weren't too used to having so much weigh concentrated on one spot, or something. Or they were just huge piles of shit, which genuinely surprised Jaynus. Everything in town was modern, almost top of the line tech. So why was he being shuttled out on some heaping piles of rusted formerly public transportation? That pissed him off, just like the bus drivers. Mutes, all of em. No music the whole damn ride, either. Hell, there wasn't even enough food! What should've been a twenty hour ride at most turned into a nearly seven-day silent ride of misery. The happiest Jaynus had ever been was getting off of that final damn bus. Right into the shitscape that was Baltimore. He'd spent a bit of time reading up about the place, and he didn't like one single thing about it. Not one! Hell, there was already so much chaos here, he figured he might as well have done whatever he wanted to.

Naturally, the first thing one does after getting off of a bus at the end of a long trip, is go into the nearest convenient store. The 'go into' part is something Jaynus struggled with, especially with his armor. So, when entering, instead of leaning in at a 45 degree angle, he simply headbutted the frame of the door, and then some, so he could walk in. The instant the clerk opened their mouth to yell at the behemoth, Jaynus swung his homemade rifle round and Gallagher'd her head right off. "Shut up." He muttered, before grabbing as many shitty pre-made sandwiches and packages of fruit he could hold in one hand. Setting his rifle on the counter, he opened the lower hatch on his helmet, and simply dropped the food in, still packaged. He chewed, sort of, but was mostly focusing on eating as much as he could, fast as he could. He didn't want to make many stops today, so the more he ate now the better off he'd be. As he finished off enough food for thirty people in record time, he grabbed his rifle and turned to leave, when something caught his eye. A newspaper, with a big fat headline, reading something about Facility 108 being attacked by the Knights of Ragu-WAIT A MINUTE! That was where he was supposed to attack! What the fuck?! WHO the fuck?! Who are the Knights of Raguel? Nomad clenched his fists, careful not to damage his rifle though, and instead changed his focus to stomping the hell out of the floor beneath him. The whole building shook with each furious stomp.

As he exited the store, he walked down the sidewalk a couple steps before redirecting his blind fury into a nearby car; it made a very nice hole in the building across the street. Taking longer than expected, a single police car rolled up, sirens blazing. "That's fuckin' annoyin. Turn em off!" Jaynus yelled at the policemen getting out of the car, much to their confusion. One of the officers drew his weapon, their partner doing the same shortly after. They asked him some dumb questions. "Who are you, why did you do what you just did, blah blah limiter, blah blah under arrest." Jaynus slowly advanced towards the officers, giving a particularly strong glare (despite the helmet) towards the one with darker skin. "Nomad. What I wanted to. No limiter cuz I'm not some dumb bitch. You couldn't fuckin' arrest me if ya wanted to, stupid fuckers. Now, like I said..." Nomad stood in front of their vehicle now, both officers with their finger on their respective trigger. "Turn. Off. The. Lights." The Caucasian officer fired off a round directly at Nomad's head. It made a pathetic little 'ping' noise as it bounced off. The other officer didn't have time to get his shot off as Nomad punted their vehicle forward. With their doors still extended, both of them were sent flying back with it...but in a few more pieces than they were a few seconds ago. "Lucky he died before I could find a tree." Nomad looked down the road in both directions, and saw no trees, but there were plenty of onlookers. "PISS OFF!" He shouted at them indiscriminately.

A few hours later, with more harassment from local Law Enforcement, and them quickly finding out that staying a good distance away was an easy way to attack him, Nomad found himself needing a bit of a reprieve. Walking down what looked like an old subway tunnel, Nomad punched the support columns out to keep the police out. After walking forward for another ten minutes, blindly following the tracks, he finally found some good lighting and looked himself over. A few literal dings, and a few bullet holes in his left leg. After spending another few minutes doffing his armor, flexing his legs to eject the bullets, and then donning his armor, he was on his way again, good as new. They were small caliber, so they weren't very deep in him, maybe only a couple centimeters beneath his skin.

Another twenty minutes pass before he finally hears a commotion. Someone sounded pretty angry, maybe even angrier than him...but he doubted it. It was pretty far ahead, and there was, of all things, a train car up ahead. He stopped, but made sure his last step was a thunderous stomp. "HEY! Whoever's up there, come on out towards me! I been needin' someone ta help me blow off some steam!"



Location: Abandoned train tunnels.
Company: Isaac, Landon, Avecca. (But he doesn't know.)
welian Lemon Boy

 

[The Fuzzy Pixel]

Maple Warrain
Location: Facility 108
Nearby:
Giyari : Viola | Tyrannosaurus Rekt : Sullivan
Interactions:
Syrenrei : Luther | Necessity4Fun : Aiden​

Classes were cancelled, the campus was closed, and gloom practically held Facility 108 in a stranglehold. Maple had left the minimal amount of hallway lighting on in the first floor after she had sent Jim home early. It helped to maintain a reserved atmosphere, and one she could still navigate without stumbling into anything. She had kept the entrance doors locked, of course. As much as she felt for the mourners outside she couldn't allow people to congregate inside, especially when she believed herself to be one of the few, if not the last staff member on site. The halt that had frozen the facility didn't apply to her job, so she had busied herself for a couple hours in the main office by playing catch up. There was still paperwork that needed to be looked over for many, many things, and the Director's assistant was already swamped. Student information. Department budgets. Proposed changes. The list went on. Unfortunately the shooting last week had created its own unique pile of paperwork as well, but the clerk would take things one step at a time.

To help pass the time she had a pair of earbuds on and was listening to music on her phone. Content that silence was no longer her companion she steadily chipped away at her workload while dutifully keeping track of the time. She wondered if Eliza would really come to visit. There was something she wanted to talk about with her when they both had the time, and the school seemed like a good setting despite all the tension. A week had passed, so Maple wasn't worried about her seeing visions of the shooting, even if the physical damage was still visible in some areas. The older woman had even offered to give Eliza a ride home after if she did come, but time would tell. Speaking of which...

An alarm on her phone alerted her to the current time. After turning it and her music off she stood up from her desk and stretched her arms up to the ceiling with a tired groan. If Eliza was coming it would be soon, and Maple could definitely use a break. Slipping on her soft dark green hoodie over her black shirt the woman then left the office and headed to the front entrance of the building, lightly patting the pockets of her baggy jeans to make sure she still had her phone and keys. She had almost reached the doors when her black sneakers squeaked upon the wet floor. Stopping instantly her gaze dropped down thinking she had stepped on something. The only thing she could make out on the floor however was a small amount of water. Now that she was aware of its presence she noticed further patches of moisture glistening in the soft lighting coming from the front doors. Puzzled at first she continued on to the doors and found they were unlocked.

Blue eyes traced back the way she had come from, but as she stood in with the door cracked open she heard someone shouting outside. Directing her gaze outside now she spotted someone with a rifle slung on their shoulder. A quiet sigh of relief was released when she identified the other staff member from a distance. Maybe carrying a gun around wouldn't soothe the worries of any bystanders, but Maple sure felt safer knowing it was in responsible hands. Stepping outside as Luther shouted again the younger woman sighed through a patient smile.

"I hope she didn't hit that car with a bullet," she murmured with a chuckle as she stepped out into the light rain. Without her limiter or her filtration mask on her words puffed out a small cloud of vapor, but as she walked through it the cloud was already starting to disperse. Even her breaths left a steady mist in her passing, but being in the good mood that she was it didn't bother her. As Maple started to close the distance between herself and Luther she waved in a friendly manner to get her attention.

"Heya, Luther! Didn't hear you come inside earlier. Sorry I didn't notice; kinda buried in papers in the office." Unfazed by the drops of water falling down on her from above Maple's expression perked up a little. "Oh! I'll be making hot chocolate in the faculty lounge later. If you're gonna be patrolling tonight do you want a thermos?"

Behind Luther the clerk spotted a familiar jeep parked not too far away. It was intriguing that her coworker from the Commonwealth might be here tonight, unannounced and all, and she thought back to wet floor she had found inside the building. 'Oh. Ohhhh...' Oh crap, so that hadn't been Luther who had unlocked the front door. Her gaze remained to the side at the realization that Luther might not take too kindly to Sully doing.. well, Sully things uninvited on campus. She needed to think of something quick.

"I invited a couple colleagues over by the way," she said carefully as she regained eye contact, looking as if she was half expecting a slap on the wrist in some form. "..I wanted to talk about the Facility's current state with them. Hope that's alright with you-.."

She paused as movement to the side distracted her. Someone had dropped their umbrella and was searching through their bag. Apprehension marked her expression at the sight, and she took a step forward in concern as the boy fussed with an inhaler before picking up his umbrella.

"Aiden?" she called out to the boy. "Aiden, are you alright?"

 

[Gus]

Kate Barrett
​

Location: Church, near the coffee
@s: Giyari Teh Frixz welian

Kate sat near the back. She had not made any attempt to approach either Isabelle or Richard. She knew, by now, that it was over between them before it had even really begun. In these brief respites of sanity, she could even accept it. It was for the best. Daytime Kate would never treat Richard with proper respect, and limiting their relationship to windows of less than ninety minutes before full nightfall… she sighed. When her powers abated, she understood exactly how he must have felt about being ‘protected’ during the attack. Small. Not fragile. Certainly not grateful. Just belittled and diminished. She shivered at the memory. The titanic arrogance of her daytime persona made her cringe at the best of times, but this? She shook her head, trying to let it go, but her thoughts were dogged. The week since had been the worst she’d ever seen her day-self get. Crawling into bed just after dawn. Sleeping until late afternoon. Weeping into her breakfast of ice cream and eclairs. No writing. No patrols or appearances or investigating. No interviews. Nothing. Just waves of self pity, reinforced by the chorus of voices tearing her down from the inside. In early days, she used to think of her daytime self as fierce and strong, to resist the dark like that. Eventually she’d realized it was more of a willful deafness, filling her days with too much activity to let herself hear their noxious whispers. Now, she got to see what the mighty Janus looked like when she really finally let herself go. It was not pretty, and she wasn’t really sure how to break the cycle.

The only certainty was that talking to Richard was bound to make it worse. Especially now; the sun had already set, and she only had perhaps half an hour more of being herself. She could already feel the tingle of circulation returning to her extremities.

Soon.​

Hush. You all can wait your goddamned turn.

Fine.​

She smiled, in spite of herself. At least all the tedious moping and sleeping in the daytime had allowed her more time to come to terms with her ‘dark side.’ They had actually been a lot better behaved this last week than she had seen them in years. Nobody had been killed, or even maimed. And if there were a few dozen low-lifes with more reason now then usual to jump at shadows in the city? …well, she was coming to appreciate: in this sort of investigation, intimidation was perhaps more useful than inspiring heroics. The leads were few and far between; people seemed genuinely frightened by this renewed assault by the knights. But there were rumors. The abandoned tunnels sounded promising... She would go out again tonight. Richard was beyond her reach. But maybe she’d get lucky anyway.

Chernov’s speech seemed genuine. Unrehearsed. She looked tired, and harried. The gossip about her was probably no more than that… but then again, she probably didn’t get as far up the chain as she had without being able to keep a good poker face, even at wits end. Her eyes followed as the Director ducked out the back. Someone in a baggy AEGIS hoodie went out after her. Someone with blue scaley hands, she noted. Shit, she thought. If Manami had heard the rumors as well… this could get very messy. She stood up, edging to the end of the pew and started after them, but with no plan other than fast talking coming to mind.

Then she spotted the agents among the crowd by the coffee urns.

Sidling up to them as unobtrusively as she was able, she leaned in close to the more capable looking brunette.

“Sorry. I don’t mean to be unnecessarily alarmist, but does Director Chernov have a security detail for her smoke breaks? Manami Hamasaki just followed her out. She may be looking for someone to blame for the death of her parents…”

 

[Necessity4Fun]

​

Location: Hampton Cafe (Near the John Hopkins Hospital) - Bar Area
Intended Plot - 6A4
Texting: Malikai

--OOC Notes: (Sooo, Vi and I opted for starting this and using Mary as a gateway to both 6A2 and 6A4 plots, because portals >3< Yes, we checked the map, it's totally possible. So, whichever plot gets interesting first Mary can just go there and Jú will be plopped on her plot and everyone is happy!
Also technically this cafe would be closed at this time but eh, all of them would so pfffft whatever~)--

*Slightly annoyed*

After Mitch had left her with an expression similar to a cat's when you randomly put things on top of its head and an outraged 'hey!' later, Juliana had managed to balance the phone on her forehead while calling her stupid cousin. With nothing to do but to wait, the Brazilian had taken the opportunity to test some of the voice commands to get her phone to start playing music...
Sadly, the excitement was short lived and soon someone had told her she was disturbing the others or whatever. The girl didn't like that at all, but since there was not much to be done in that situation ended up obliging to the order, well kinda. With an half-excuse about how moving at all would be extremely difficult, Jú had managed to lump the medicine worker into turning the music player off and then putting the cellphone inside the purse for her. Honestly, if there was a function to turn the player on with voice commands there was probably one to turn it off as well, however with Juliana being bored as she was, if she could get any amusement out of that whole thing then she gladly would. It didn't matter if she was getting in the way of their job, all that mattered is that waiting sucked and there was nothing fun to do!

Luckily for everyone in the vicinity, the teen couldn't think of anything else to keep her entertained, eventually resigning completely and taking a nap right there, on the stretcher Copy Machine had left her. Juliana had only woken up again when she had heard her cousin's voice ring from the hallway, which was great because it meant that she'd finally get to be home to a well-deserved and very late warm shower but at the same time, urgh, so much regret as well...
For some goddamn reason, Marcelo's first reaction upon looking at her state had been to burst out laughing! Uhh, excuse me?! He had no idea what she had been through, or how much living was pain right now, what the actual fuck?! Being bed-locked due to muscle cramps, even if it was slightly better at this point, was not fucking funny!!

Having no energy to start a discussion, Jú had just stared at her caretaker with boiling, piercing hatred and it had continued for the duration of their uncannily quiet car trip back. Once home, the girl had made her way quickly to the bathroom and finally, a shower! Then she had forgotten all about being angry at the house's owner.

The next few days life still hurt. On one hand, she could move, but on the other, her body was still sore so Juliana was walking around the house akin to a robot to minimize the pain. Marcelo couldn't help but laugh again and unleashed the teen's wrath in the form of a really, really long whining rant, with all of the name-calling she had the right to. He took it as just her being petty and dramatic as usual, which made her more frustrated. He was completely used to her antics and tactics at this point.
Gym session had to be replaced by a massage one for a while and the day she had finally woken up with no remains of pain whatsoever was a joyful one. Everything was back to normal! Well, not everything...

After following the news and hearing Jú's own version of the story Marcelo had come up with a new rule. Coming back from work one day with a strange pink can, his order was very simple: If Juliana wanted to go back to her normal wandering/exploring day-night routine she was to carry a can of pepper spray with her at all times. The girl had just looked at him unamused, protesting with 'dude, I can literally shoot lasers from my hands', but that did not convince the man at all and she was forced to give in.
They watched the instructions video together and he had overseen the girl's first uses of the training can, which was just filled with water. It was all going smoothly for Marcelo until Jú discovered a new use for the water spray: punishing her cousin for this stupid idea~! She would lurk in the entrance way of a room he was in, unsuspecting and then out of nowhere the man would get soaked from quite the impressive distance... Marcelo suddenly regretted ever buying the whole kit as he found himself often 'mysteriously' wet. Meanwhile, Juliana was simply having a lot more fun than she had anticipated with it.

With 108 closed for cleaning and renovations, the Brazilian found herself with the problem of having waaay too much free time. Usually, gym, jogging in the park, occasional shopping and AEGIS would more than enough occupy her schedule, which wouldn't have been an issue at all if not only for one detail: she hadn't found her crew yet. The only person she could drag to adventures together with her would have been Jeremiah, who... well, was unavailable due to having been shot... yeeeeep.
Thus Juliana's action around this problem turned out to be her new favorite pastimes, messaging Shorty whenever she felt like~ Now alongside with Twitter, her Brazilian friends and her brother (that all popped up once in a while), Jú had JJ to importunate interact with often! It was the perfect solution!!

It had started with disingenuous, context-lacking and seemingly random messages such as 'I hope the hospital food was worth it' and 'Do they have cable TV over there? That was a common thing for hospitals in my country', then gotten slightly rude and demanding with things such as 'I swear that if you play hero again I'm not saving your ass!' or 'Argh! Come back already, I miss having someone listening to me talk...' but eventually, it had settled up for an unasked, yet enjoyable, journal of her self-made tour through Baltimore. Jú would send photos of the places she had been to, comment when she thought they should definitely visit later and even point out random things that 'made her think of him, like, just a little bit. Don't you dare get cocky on me now.'

She'd have loved to make him get an app to make these exchanges a lot easier instead of having to swap back to the stock SMS stock app all of the time, but the Brazilian couldn't freaking do that because Jeremiah's cellphone was a goddamn antique that had NO internet connection or an app store and- Just how. H-how could anyone even live like that??! She also had the growing suspicion that her emojis were getting translated into actual characters once they reached the other side... smh.

Well, today for her self-proclaimed tour Juliana had decided on doing something a little bit different. The past days she had actively picked a main destination such as the arboretum, the aquarium, water-taxis etc, hopped on the bus and only after she had actually visited the attraction she had gone to see, the teen would then explore the neighborhood. She'd engage in some shopping, try out some restaurants and finally go home one or two hours after Marcelo's set-up curfew time again, just to bother him on purpose (not that it worked anymore!).
This time, after her usual post-gym ritual the Brazilian had just decided to hop on a random bus and then get out whenever she felt like. No plan, no fixed destination, just pure exploration to keeps things interesting~

Taking with her an adorable tortilla colored umbrella with chiffon frills and the stupid pepper spray kit, Jú had gotten in the first bus that passed by her stop, watching attentively as the scenery changed with the passing stops until she was somewhere that looked different enough to awaken her curiosity...
Twenty minutes later, nothing. In fact, Juliana was starting to get sleepy watching the rain, thinking that maybe this had been a stupid idea, or just the wrong bus since things looked pretty much like a normal city. The girl had gotten up, ready to just disembark there to try another bus next, but as she looked in front of her an announcement for a drink passed by and she was sold.

She pressed the button for the vehicle to stop and upon getting out dashed like a bolt towards the announcement. Discovering that there was a cafe/bar nearby and that said drink was part of their menu only made her even more determined to try it out. Maybe this random trip idea wouldn't turn out to be such a waste after all!
Or... so she had thought because apparently, USA's drinking age was 21 and not 18?! WTF, are you kidding me?!

Juliana wanted to call bullshit, oh she had been this close to start an argument with the bartender but then he had pointed out the sign on the wall that said the exact same thing... Perhaps because the worker had noticed the look of absolute outrage on her face. Not satisfied yet, Jú had taken the discussion to Twitter, where promptly she had come to know that yes, unfortunately, it was the law and she couldn't do anything about it.

Enraged, however, knowing better than to get herself kicked out of the place and back in the rain so soon, the teen stomped towards the opposite way of the cafe, buying some coffee beverage instead. She got her order and then made sure to take it back with her to the bar counter, sitting down on one of the stools as some kind of backwards defiance.
The bartender had given her a glance, Juliana had returned it, narrowing her eyes, standing her ground... Then the man obviously decided that he wasn't paid enough to deal with this and let her be. It wasn't his problem if there was someone drinking coffee near the bar, he was only there to make the drinks and serve people...

Just as the Brazilian had been about to enjoy her purchase, her phone's notification chime rang. Argh, she knew exactly who it was:

A Douche

them

Where are you?

me

Enjoying some cooffee

them

...

them

That doesn't answer my question...

them

At least tell me you brought the pepper spray.

me

yeye I brought the dumb thing -_-

me

Dude relax!!

them

When *you* tell me to relax is when I get worried...

them

Don't stay until too late ok?

me

Not this agaaaain, I'm fine

me

I CAN TOTES TAKE CARE OF MSELF

me

Oops caps

them

I doubt it? But fine

them

Just remember to use the spray if things get weird

me

yeah yeah

me

you sound like a recorder lol

me

repating stuff all the time

them

I have to, you're never actually listening to me...

me

Argh!

me

Bye, Marcelo! :pout:

them

:-_-lines:

Taking advantage of the fact she had taken the phone out, Juliana then proceeded to check all of her other apps briefly, including the map just to have an idea of where she was and what cool places were nearby. Oh, she was almost forgetting her new favorite hobby!
Travelling until the phone's stock message app, she had promptly selected Jeremiah's number, selected a screenshot of the map as the attachment and started typing away as quickly as she could:

Oh hey, it seems like there's a bowling bar a couple streets from here and
I am totally dragging you there once you're out. I won't take no for an answer. It's also not my first time bowling so you better prepare yourself!!
>: D

The Brazilian hit send, put her cellphone away and then finally approached the abandoned beverage on top of the counter. Jú took a sip of her... something something-cchiato, well, she didn't know the name but it tasted like coffee and cinnamon. Honestly, she couldn't care less what it was called!! Not that it was bad or anything, quite the opposite, but it would never be satisfying enough... Still.lacks.alcohol! Hunf!

 

[Malikai]

Lewis Lowe
Location: Saint Leo's Church
Around: Many People​

Lowe had been absent the day of the attack. He had gone home sick after feeling... well, sick. It wasn't exactly like he knew that the attack was going to happen. If he had he would have definitely gone in that day. Just looking around at the wake now told him that he should've been there. He should've been a part of the people who actually saved lives. In regards to being a teacher he had failed his sole objective. To keep students, and by extension visitors to the school, safe and sound. Lowe floated a few candles around him. Each of the candles had the orange glow of their flickering fire as well as a faint purple glow signifying Lowe was levitating them. Similarly the scar on the side of Lowe's head was also glowing purple, and his eyes were closed as he focused solely on moving the candles.

The candles floated from around Lowe to being set down on the nearest table, placed as offerings on a massively growing shrine. A sigh escaped Lowe's lips and he walked slightly away from the shrines and the wake, just barely at the edge of the crowd of people. Fishing around in his pocket he found what he truly needed most right now, and the small white object floated out of his pocket and into his waiting hand. He put his hand into his other pocket and noticed a distinct lack of a lighter, 'Course. Why would I have a lighter if I quit smoking. Damn it. Lowe's eyes flicked to the ground, thoughts passing through his head.

Most of the thoughts were blaming him for having not done enough, but even more so were the parts of him that were fascinated at the display of human interactions. It was that sick part of his brain that wanted to write down how people were interacting in grief, and how some were interacting in anger. Even people such as Chernov, who was acting so unfazed by it. Actually, especially Chernov, Seems as though she needs some acting lessons. Not that I'd be willing to be a teacher, but I'd certainly be a good one. Lowe looked down at the cigarette and grumbled about how he should have brought a book instead of a cigarette, especially without having even brought a lighter.

 

[Teh Frixz]

Kingsley & Aaron
The Call​

Location: Northwood Ridge Apartments -> Johns Hopkins Hospital
Mood: Bored -> Indignant -> Fierce
Nearby: Agent Daniels, a large bucket
@: Gus



The last card was gently set into place, Kingsley pulling away a handful of fine tendrils in an attempt to avoid upsetting the precariously built card house. For a brief moment, she was satisfied. The house stood, proud and perilous. Kingsley had never gotten one to actually stay up and this had been the first time she’d had to try again. The pile of animate goo seemed to settle before rippling a few times.

This was of course the instant before the phone that Aaron had provided vibrated violently on the table and flattened her project with comical timing. Without a forehead to actually smack on the table, Kingsley instead collapsed her form. Looking very much like someone had an accident with a bucket of corn syrup, the phone vibrated its way over to quickly be snagged by a grasping tendril.

Unable to actually use more modern touch screens, Kingsley pressed down the answer button despite very much wanting to block this number. The somewhat ancient phone chimed as it connected and Kingsley attempted her very best ‘telephone’ voice. “You’ve reached the personal phone of captured superhuman Kingsley Jones. If you’d like to leave a message, maybe take a good look inward and ask yourself if Kingsley would actually ever wish to speak to you again. If you’d like to apologize, might I recommend a better effort than a phone call. Please leave a message at the beep. Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep”


Kingsley vaguely formed a head, placing it up against the phone to await the response. A part of her hoping he fell for the routine so she wouldn’t have to talk.


“Hello Kingsley. Calling from the hospital. I assume you have not been watching the news?” He paused. Maybe she really didn’t want to talk, but he’d give her a chance. The sarcasm was a good sign she was all right. It was hard to tell if it was dripping from her, or she from it. When she didn’t respond, he continued “The school was attacked last week. Just wanted to check you were ok. An assault as coordinated as… ...you never know who’s in the crosshairs. Anyway, they’ve been keeping me pretty doped up while my lungs heal, so that’s why you haven’t heard from me since last Tuesday. Hope you are well.” he started to hang up.


“YOU know I don’t watch the news, I read it. Doped up, I can only hope your supposed hospital bill is outrageous as I think it will be then. I don’t appreciate being lied to, especially using a thing like that. A school being attacked. If you didn’t want to visit or talk to me, I understand just do not expect to get any more questions about your boring solar system looking psyche. You can go find it out yourself, hopefully when you are out bouncing around the planets or whatever it is you do. If for a moment you think that I wouldn’t be the first to know if that many hosts got injured by some sort of attack, you my friend are so mistaken it isn’t even funny. Oh Aaron I swear, you have some sort of gall which I never would have expected despite being probably the only pers...being on this planet to go through that half empty head of yours. IF and I say IF, something had possibly happened, this guy that watches over this little ‘safe house’ your considerable clout has put me in would have told me. What is his name? The one who won’t take off his mask, Agent Daniels? As if it mattered. But you, you need to apologize to me right now or I swear I will take that man's body over and hunt you down.”


Kingsley pauses for a moment before speaking up again, hoping to have interrupted. “Well, what do you have to say for yourself? I am not going to wait forever for another excuse.”


Aaron looked at the phone, his finger still poised over the disconnect button, bemused. He held it away for a moment while he coughed violently, spat, and put it back to his ear.


“I guess I had forgotten how thoroughly your family disabused you of the notion that anyone is ever honest and straightforward. I’m sorry Daniels didn’t keep you informed. The attack was horrific and we’re all kind of reeling from it. At least I am. Tell you what, Ms. Jones... Why don’t you come down to Johns Hopkins yourself. Tell Daniels I said to bring you. He owes me several favors. Tell him ‘Bar Tab’ and ‘Poker Debts’ and if that doesn’t cover it, tell him I will kick his ass to the moon if he doesn’t. There are a bunch of people here who could use your help. And you, frankly, could use the lesson in empathy.”


“Bar tab? Poker Debts? Either those are some terrible pass codes or are you suggesting that I, Kingsley Rothlundt, blackmail a registered agent with some nefarious deeds that the pair of you get up to when I’m sleeping or something. You know, I feel rather used if that’s the case. Where do you get off..”


He hung up.


Kingsley nearly threw the phone across the room of the modest studio apartment that had been converted into temporary ‘low security’ housing during Kingsley’s testing process. Due to the fact that she’d inhabited an individual with high level clearance and due to some string pulling, she’d been living out of this place for the better part of a month. Other than renting movies and bringing her books, Kingsley really hadn’t had any outside communication. Aaron had been her source of information and news and since he’d vanished, she’d been in the dark. Daniels from the start had been rather wary of her, keeping to his little desk outside the apartment rather than interact with her so if he’d been holding out on her, there would be heck to pay.


Phone secure in her body along with anything else she felt might be needed, Kingsley slithered over to the door and threw it open. Rounding on Daniels she crept down the hall, part of her grinning as he shot up straight, dropping his phone. “Daniels!” she shouted. “Bar Tab and Poker Debts! Get the bucket, you are taking me to John Hopkins.”

 

[Gus]

Aaron Mallory
​

Location: Johns Hopkins, room 105
Mood: Conflicted
Nearby: JJ, et al.
On the way: Trouble (Kingsley)
@s: Malikai Teh Frixz The Oldest Blueberry welian ChaosZereul Lemon Boy

Aaron handed the phone back to the nurse with a nod and a quiet, "Thank you," waiting until she had withdrawn to heave the pent up sigh he had been suppressing, which set him off on another coughing fit, violent enough to shake the room. When he recovered, he allowed himself a muttered, “Jesus Christ, Kingsley.” Then he massaged his retreating hairline for a minute, before pushing his hands down to the hospital blanket, palms away from himself as if physically trying to shove his thoughts and worries back down out of sight and out of mind.

It didn’t work.

He needed another session with Lisa. She had helped him a lot in processing his feelings about Kingsley; he could visit her without getting the creeping horrors anymore at least. On the other hand, she still managed to make him feel like crap every single time they spoke. He was pretty sure she wasn’t even doing it on purpose. She was always trying to hurt him, obviously, but what got to him wasn’t what she said. As a rule her verbal assaults were typical super-adolescent noise. A trifle sharper tongued and better delivered perhaps, but still clearly cries for attention and understanding from someone who had undergone a particularly rough transition process. What bothered him wasn’t that she was aggressive and rude. That was par for the course. Putting up with that was the job.

What bothered him is that he still couldn’t empathize with her, after more than two months.

Lisa had told him repeatedly that he was trying too hard with Kingsley. Would almost surely tell him that he was right to hang up on her. He could almost hear her voice in his head: “She needed to be cut short as a wake up call. Showing an habitual user unlimited patience sends the wrong message. And it is not unloving to withdraw in self defense. Empathy doesn’t ever mean you have to participate in your own abuse.”

And yet, he still felt like a failure. He harbored no illusions that she would be easy to reach. None of his students had been easy to reach. What stuck in his craw was his persistent inability to care if he reached her. With help from Kate, he had researched the Rothlundt family. While they were, like most obscenely wealthy families, a bit insular and secretive, they were not particularly hard to figure out. The Rothlundts almost perfectly represented the pinnacle of the toxic effects of wealth concentration in America. Mean-spirited and petty, obsessed with image and optics over substantive service, they were openly classist, even proud of it. While they were perhaps less proud of their racism, they were barely less open about it.

Kingsley was a literal parasite from a family of parasites, and the only hope for her was that her family had rejected her so thoroughly that she had rejected them right back. For all the awfulness that implied about her history and upbringing, she might yet turn out all right in the end. And that should make him happy. He had nothing but disgust and contempt for her family. He should be glad she had a chance to escape and that he could help her grow past them. That he still saw her as a burden and a threat after more than two months of working with her? He shook his head, ashamed. He could only hope that bringing her to the hospital to witness the aftermath of the attack would help clue her in what they had to stand against. He wanted to believe she would see the light... and not just make a beeline for the morgue to escape custody.

He sighed again, triggering another coughing fit.

He had almost gotten it under control when he noticed Jeremiah, practically tiptoeing into the room on his crutches. Everything about his demeanor practically screamed ‘survivor guilt’. The trepidation and obsequious manner of his questioning nearly broke Aaron’s heart in two. Eyes still streaming, unable to talk, he beckoned emphatically with his whole arm, nodding and shaking his head at the same time. Gasping and gulping air, he held up his index finger to the boy, then shook his head and beckoned again. He made a sort of hooting honk of a noise deep in his chest, somewhere between a hiccup and a dry heave, then finally managed to gasp out: “I… always have… time for a student, Mr. Johnson. What’s hh- -uh, troubling you?”