Megalopolis - Broken Mirrors (Everyone Invited)

DreamingofRoses

DreamingofRoses

Rosa Indomitus
May 3rd, 9:30 PM





  • Lights lit up the houses along the quiet street that the police cruiser drove down, sirens off. The two uniformed police officers that sat in the front, a man and a woman, were responding to a call about a public nuisance filed by the neighbors of a particularly small white-painted house. It had a little front lawn closely trimmed and surrounded by sidewalk with a fence in the back. There was also a driveway with a car parked in it. The cruiser parked on the edge of the street and the two officers emerged from the car, confirming with dispatch that they had arrived at the location.


    The shriek of the smoke alarm in the house could be heard from well outside the door. Williams traveled the short path and climbed the three concrete steps to the porch. He knocked on the front door, loudly, "This is the police, is anyone in there? We received a complaint about screaming and a smoke alarm. Is everything alright?" He waited for a moment for a response before knocking again, "Hello?!"


    "Williams," Patterson tapped her partner on the shoulder and pointed to a window on the side of the house that was slightly cracked. A thin line of smoke curled lazily upwards. Patterson went for her radio as Williams checked for other signs of fire before cautiously attempting to open the door. It was unlocked and swung open easily, "Dispatch, this is 58a, smoke observed at location, but no other signs of fire. Possible person in distress in the house."


    They entered the house, flashlights in hand while Williams kept one hand on the butt of his pistol. "Hello, is anyone in here? We saw smoke and need you to come outside. We're police officers," the fire alarm offset the silence that followed this statement, jangling shrilly as they cleared each room after the other before getting to the door of the room where they had seen smoke emerging. Carefully, Patterson opened the door. There was no sign of actual fire, but a horrid stench filled the room and Williams swore, "Christ. Look in the chair."


    Patterson did, and saw the still-smouldering corpse in its burned remains. For a few minutes all that could be heard was running steps out of the house and the unmistakable sound of someone vomiting.


    Williams pressed the button on his radio, "Dispatch, this is unit 58b. Location is 1008 Redbird St. We have a DOA, possible homicide, and possible arson, but no fire. Need a bus and some more units to help seal off the scene."


    The radio crackled for a moment before a woman responded, "Copy, 58b. This is dispatch. ETA of back-up approximately 15 minutes."


    "Copy and out, dispatch," Williams left the bedroom and headed outside to his partner, who was panting, half bent over. "Out of your system? C'mon, let's start sealing off the house."


 
Rori Hutchins


The ebb and the flow of rythym, notes dancing around her as she plucks and pulls the unique pressure waves as if directing on orchestra at a fundamental level of physics. Bodies below her move this way and that as her shockingly neon green hair lit up in the countless black lights.


A combination of Elmer's glue and the insides of cracked glo-sticks, her hair was going to be screaming in protest later at the chemicals but for now, at the climax of a rave set? Chemicals in her hair were of little concern. Rori's callused didgits fly across the sound board, everything getting either amplified or altered by the living hi fi set DJ called R00R.


Twenty minutes and an endless amount of perfectly pitched thumping music later, Rori stepped off stage. Meandering through the backstage of the club, she reaches her room. Taking a seat on some ratty old chair, she spins a bit. All the music was pent up inside her. Each moment in slinece was agonizing!


Sighing loudly and vibrating in tune with whatever the next DJ was playing. Rori gives a little laugh at her glowing hair. She should give Aiden a call, he'd get a kick out of it. Their dates had been going well enough and she liked to keep both him and her hair on their toes as much as possible.


Regretting not carrying her phone to shows, she grabs her things and makes for the exit. Either way, she had to find a bus and transfer a few times, locate the elusive pay phone and give Aiden a ring or just hoof if home. One seemed to stick out more to her honestly. She lingers a moment before starting the long search.
 
Lt. Eve Roarke MPD


It was a rare evening for her. She'd actually taken a day off. She sighed as she leaned against Eamonn as they sat in his home theater and watched a Bogart movie. She decided she liked the classics and a young Bogart was a fine thing to watch too. She'd had a lovely dinner, great conversation and there was absolutely nothing she had to do. It was wonderful, it was bliss, it was... boring. She's finished her cases, wrapped up the latest homicide just that afternoon and that had been far too easy. A guy bashes his best friend over the head for a winning lottery ticket. Of course now he doesn't get the winning lottery ticket and the man's new widow gets to live easy in Tahiti- just as she had planned on doing with the best friend. People were stupid and they killed each other but it kept her in a job.


She ate her popcorn, enjoying the salt and butter and all the chemicals that went into proper movie theater popcorn. She doubted there was anything real or natural about it but that didn't bother her too much; it tasted damned good to her. Eamon's hands moved up and down her arm, tingling her senses as the credits rolled. Her response to him surprised her and she was already responding to his caress as his lips found hers. He drugged the mind and she began to melt. Her arms wrapped around his neck and she decided she was going to let him seduce her right here on the couch in front of the huge movie screen. It was the perfect ending to a perfect date night.


"You're ringing Lt."


"What?"


He smiled gently at her, already knowing the night was done. At least he'd managed to get some food into her. But he knew what he'd been getting into when he met her and he had no regrets. "You're ringing Eve."


Her brain slowly returned to normal. "Damnit, fuck!" She tore her phone from her pocket. "Roarke, Lt. Eve, go ahead."


"Lt. Eve Roarke, Dispatch, Possible homicide at 1008 Redbird Street, Officers William and Patterson on scene."


Shit, shit, shit. "Dispatch, my ETA is about twenty minutes. Roarke out."
 
Paige Kenden


The worst part of mutating into this...thing was the loss of being able to come and go freely. Paige had been quite the socialite as a younger woman. The girl that others loved to hate. Debate team captain, head cheerleader, Class President and quite the bombshell. Paige had seen countless movies ranging from her archetype getting splashed by water balloons and having to run off defeated all the way to various snuff films produced by men and women that couldn't handle her in reality and through violence and porn got some sort of relief. Those made Paige smile the most.


Now, since her skin had become similar to burlap and her insides were filled with bugs and vermin. Paige couldn't go out with impunity. In the basement of the largest Casino in megalopolis, she paced her room. Every comfort to be imagined was available but it was still too similar to a prison. She could run every facet of her empire from here but she always felt a personal touch was better than even the most well written letter.


Various piles of foundation and Hollywood quality makeup filled the unused bathroom. She got a look of her uncovered form, thick burlap skin, sunken black 'eyes' and a gaping mouth filled with the nightmares of a good portion of the population. Her father had called her his little sock puppet when it finally fully manifested. She couldn't even cry anymore.


Feeling her skin tighten, she pushes the unhappy feelings down beside a puff adder and a group of hissing cockroaches. She was going to get a bit of her old life back tonight. She spins open the top of the jar and dips her hand into the thick goop.


Look out Megalopolis, Paige was on the prowl.
 
Aiden McKinnery Lugh


Lugh is on the prowl.


He flitted through the streets of Megalopolis like a shadow, on the streets, under them, across the rooftops. He patrols with no particular route or target, he's just generally looking for trouble. Problem is, the streets have been quiet for a while now. The Pure Bloods had retreated from the 'front lines' they held against the pro-Meta gang 'The Altered' after Gunny's arrest and there was talk that if the Pure Bloods' hardest man went down for a stretch The Altered would make a push to take territory from the Pure Bloods. Thus far, it was all quiet on the battlefields.


He clambered up a fire escape and stopped on the broad flat rooftop that overlooked Gaia's. Even at this time in the evening, the lights of the restaurant blazed defiantly out into the night, enticing passers-by with the promise of good hot food and warmth. It was tempting, but....


Lugh turned his back. That chapter was finished and the page was turned. He couldn't go back. Instead he sprinted across the rooftop and took the three-yard gap between the roof and the next in a mighty leap and roll on the other side. He found his feet smoothly and kept going. Someone, somewhere, needed help and Lugh was going to be there to help.
 
Rori Hutchins


Well, this was an absolute failure. Rori mutters to herself as she wanders the streets of Megalopolis. Her during show buzz was long gone and the original intent of her search was forgotten. Never again. No more joints before shows. Bad idea and lately wasn't even worth it.


Literally humming, Her body vibrated against the sidewalk with each step. It sounded like a muffled jackhammer. She actually giggled a little, enjoying the venting. Switching to a tune, she began pumping out the beats. Just loud enough to be someone playing a song on their phone.


Her glowing green hair had just started to dull along with her smile. She didn't even recognize these street names. Where the hell was Vernon P. Wilson Drive? None of these streets followed the grid pattern around her home. She sighs, taking a left. This neighborhood sucked. Ramshackle homes, obvious signs of welfare. Not a single car had it's hubcaps, 'cept the ones all flashy. Fancy SUV's and impressively painted hatchbacks.


Around these cars, Rori started to notice more and more of these tag marks on the walls and streets. A DNA strand thing with different bits in the middle.


Feeling a chill in the air, Rori starts to walk a bit faster. Her music switched to some adult alternative, the least threatening music she could think of. Strands of Bowie floating around her, she starts into a jog.
 
Noah


Man this is boring! He thought to himself as he sat with his legs swinging slightly as they hung of the edge of the building he was on looking down at yet another empty ally way. The hero's in the comic books had made it all look so eventful, it seemed all they had to do was walk down the street and they would bump into some villain monologing about their plans for world domination. He had cover a decent section of the city with his speed and not even come across a purse snatcher or 7/11 robber.


He sighed and leaned back looking up at the nights sky that could be seen between the higher buildings and hoping he would hear a cry for help any second now. He wore his common red hoodie and some jeans figuring that as nobody other then Fran's lot knew him he didn't need any secret identity, but still he had an old Halloween mask with him just encase.


As time went on and know distress call was forth coming he found his hand had dug out the beaten up coin the strange Irish dude had flipped to him after disposing of that thug in the park and was rolling it back and forth across his knuckles at staggering speed. Normally he would have simply thrown the strange thing away but the only reason he could think of for the guy to have such and worn and strange coin in the first place was that it was some kind of lucky charm or something, and if that was the case it would have just been rude to get rid of it.


He thought back to the one punch that had laid the thug low and decided that was the kind of thing he wanted to be able to do when he had more strength. The few times he had managed to run into some criminals in the act it was only thanks to his speed that he was able to land enough of his own weak attacks to beat them. But that was ok because it still worked and it would work again tonight when he eventually found some, he had been working on a flying kick delivered by superspeed that he was sure would be bada**. He decided to rest just a tiny bit longer before resuming his search for crime.
 
Paige Kenden


The Mercedes SLS (Brabus Edition) with the handicap plates roars around the city. There was only one registered SLS with plates like that and the city cops knew who drove it. Tearing through reds and passing in single lanes, Paige drove like a maniac. She had been in several technically fatal car accidents yet her mutations kept her from taking any injury. Combined with the massive insurance fraud she committed each time, each crash paid for itself. Several others had been injured in her drives but paying them off and silencing the rest kept her rates low as well.


Other than the driving, tonight had been a bust. No good tables, no drinks sent her way (she had to stop letting the centipede crawl across her, it wasn't funny to anyone else), nothing.


You know what...she was better than this. Complaining about not having any luck. Ever since she changed, she had been making her own luck.


Taking a tight turn, she decided to rubber neck and bother some pigs. Scanner flipped on, she heard a familiar voice. Fun times, here we come....
 
Right, it is late and I am completely exhausted from several taxing events today. I wrote this on my phone during breaks and will touch it up later. Think of it as a rough draft post and not a decent representation of my writing ability! I feel so cliche'd writing this, I hate making NCC's

-_-
Rori Hutchins


Twisting and bobbing through abandoned homes and vacant lots, Rori's normally uncanny sense of direction was failing her. Usually able to pick up on the unique pressure waves in each part of the city so even in her drunkest haze, she found home. Now it was like someone put a bag over her head and spun her around.


Not happy with the development, she kicks a bottle down the street and catches a glimpse of someone watching from the second floor of a nearby building. Coated with the all too common double helix glyph, She picked up several footsteps. Ohhh boy...


Three men exit the building, able to pick out the bright green hairstyle from down the block. They had been watching and waiting for the obviously lost woman to wander further into their ever expanding territory. She looked the type that liked to party but usually needed convincing.


Each one was intimidating in their own way. Even worse, they all wore the Altered colors and sported a unique helix on their person. The first an abnormally skinny black man, his skin nearly tinted to ink. He carried a handful of change, letting it jingle as he moved. In close behind was a squat yet built painfully mutated looking fellow. His head seemed stretched and his mouth was full of mangled teeth. The worst part of him was the empty eye sockets. The last seemed actually normal. Other than his impoverished looking form, he seemed out of place with the other metas advancing on Rori.


"Lost? Thought you'd be able to pick up GPS or somethin' on your spikes" The man with the stretched skull, a fellow by the name of Void, steps up towards the now thrumming Rori. Void's head seems to shine for a moment as Rori's sense of direction is lost as she feels a sudden sense of vertigo. Grabbing a lamppost she stabilizes herself. "Just...taking a late night stroll, Almost to the bus stop"


The pitch black man leans back in laughter. "Gooood...'scuseeee. Noooo buss in Altered turrrrf" The change in his hand starts to speed up as he flips it over his knuckles. Spaz had been this tinted color since he was born. Gifted with a subverted form of superspeed, he induced a reaction in items, causing them to break down into the same inky plasma. Capable of burning through layers of steel, he had been a vital part in several recent robberies.


"Well, walking is good for the soul." Rori gives off a siren effect, letting it dopple closer. Void and Spaz look around but the last one doesn't seem to notice. Rori shrugs at the group and starts off. "I'll leave you bunch be, thanks..."


The unnamed man blinks a few times before looking closer at Rori. Waving a hand the sirens cut off and Rori stops. Void looks at the mute and turns back. "She's meta! No wonder she's wandering around here."


Spaz and Void share a knowing grin. Had to boost the meta population somehow.


"Listen girlie, you are coming with us." Void bares his teeth as Rori raises her hands, fighting the vertigo being pumped towards her. In perfect mockery of his high pitched voice, Rori provides a fine comeback.


"Listen idiots, back off"


Void starts in, his skull nearly visible as a wave of dizziness strikes Rori, prompting her to emit a focused nearly fatal level of sound. Ears bleeding, Spaz and the mute back away as Void falls, along with the feeling of being lost in the city. Confident she drops the short ranged pressure increase and gives Spaz the finger. "Fuck off"


Temper and temperature rising, the blurry right hand launches a quarter at Rori, the hunk of metal broken down to base plasma. It singes through one of her mohawks and though a building nearby. Rightfully angry, the sounds of a warzone fill the city for a few moments before she responds with a projectile of her own.


Focusing, she snaps her thumb and several high pressure waves meet, forcing the air between her thumb and middle finger to collapse. For an instant, the ensuing envelope of incredibly low pressure lingers before firing outward at nearly the temperature of the sun. Deteriorating down to non fatal levels, the wave hits spaz in the chest with the force of a truck. He falls over beside Void, stunned for the next few days as physics takes it's toll on him.


Feeling rather smug, Rori raises her hands at the mute. Her lips don't even move as the words roll from her. "You gonna cry n-" The series of explosions and other sounds Rori picked up from war films is suddenly muted. For once her world is silent as her counterpart raised a hand.


Calmly, her raises the other hand. Another wall of silence as the remaining meta puts up an artificial vacuum around them. Rori feels her powers working but there wasn't any result. She pushes harder, giving up any level of finesse as she goes for broke. Pushing to the levels of being on ground zero of a warhead detonation, there just is no reaction from the sound waves she was producing. She can't even talk as the other meta moves closer, his cloud of 'vac' compressing closer.


panicking at the sudden ineffectiveness of her abilities, Rori tries to run but discovers that moving outside the pocket the other meta produced a sudden drop in her breathing capabilities. The mute had played this game before...


An outstreched hand touches Rori on the forehead and the cloud envelopes her. Her body involuntarily goes to the ground as she loses control of her muscles, followed by the sudden descent into darkness. She goes limp and falls to the ground.


Not bothering to help his comrades up just yet. The mute, also known as 'Smother' looks at the unconcsious trio. Laughing but without any sound escaping his constant vaccum around him, he rifles through each of their pockets. They'd come to but probably wouldn't remember to check their wallets. No honor among thieves.


Taking his time, Smother grabs Rori by the collar. Dragging her over the rough asphalt towards the Altered hideout.
 
Lt. Eve Roarke MPD


She was out of the house in five, the happy buzz had left her and she flipped on her on duty lights as she sped into the heart of the city, Eamon sat calmly in shotgun doing whatever it was he did on his handheld devices. Probably buying Alaska, she thought with a snarl as she cut off a cab that tried to get into her lane. Her GPS showing her traffic patterns and the quickest route to take. She had said twenty, she'd be faster than that.


"All units, we've just received reports of open warfare in the 1200 block of A street, all units please respond."


A red dot appeared on Eve's dash to show just where the sounds of warfare were occurring. "Shit, we're right there."


"There are other units Eve."


"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" She switched on her radio, "Dispatch, Lt. Roarke, Eve, I am at the 1100 block of A street on my way to the possible homicide, shall I proceed or investigate?"


There was a pause. "Lt. You are cleared to investigate, you have back up ETA five minutes."


"Figures." She glanced over as Eamon pulled a hand cannon from somewhere behind his jacket. He checked it, holstered it then adjusted several other places she didn't really want to know about. "Those are all legal, right?"


He smiled at her. "Eve my love, trust me. Pull over here, this is Altered territory, you're not going in alone."


"We go in armed and we go in heavy, shoot only if you have to."


"Eve darling, I know how to maim the bad guys."


Eve pulled into a clear spot and they both got out of the vehicle, weapons at the ready. She had her shield out in plain sight, no use for anyone to mistake her for what she was. She had all of her senses working and she didn't smell any gun fire but there was a scent she did recognize. She and Eamon found two bodies, both still alive though they had been injured somehow. She reported them in and, smelling more than seeing a trail of someone hurt and injured. She glanced at Eamon and indicated he should follow. They moved together, quickly, like a pair of mated wolves who knew each other's hunting methods. They needed no words as she followed the scent that went further into Altered territory. There was an erie silence but the scent was getting stronger now. They'd covered maybe a hundred yards but whoever was ahead of her was dragging a captive and, if she knew this particular captive, she wouldn't be going along easily.


She broke out into a silent run and she sensed that Eamon had also sped up to stay with her. The Altereds were not known for being kind to those who didn't belong in their territory. But then Eve wasn't known for being kind either and Eamon, well, Eamon was even less so. It wasn't much longer when she finally caught up to whomever was dragging Rori. She raised her gun and pointed it at him. "Oye, asshole, freeze, police! Move and I'll drop you like a fat kid drops PE. You let the nice girl go and get your skinny ass on the ground, put your hands behind your fucking head and keep them where I can see them."


The man simply turned and looked at Eve, his expression creepy and suddenly Eve found it difficult to speak, her words had been cut off, as if in an empty vacuum of sound. That explained a lot then. If he was able to null Rori's abilities then there'd be no way she could fight her attacker and the lack of any sound would shut her down.


Eamon stood next to her, his face was feral in the darkness and there was no need for either of them to use any sound to project that, unless he did as bade, things would not go easy for him. He looked at the both of them, calculated his chances of escaping then dropped Rori and ran for it. Eve took off after him in a flash, the sounds of his footsteps were absent but she could see and smell him just fine. There was more to the world than sound and the fucker should know that. She knew there were others who watched the hunt, judging, weighing, deciding. But then they melted back into the darkness when she grabbed him in the back of his jacket and slammed him to the ground. "I said freeze you stupid fuck and now I get to arrest your dumb ass because you made me run. Stand up." She enjoyed slapping cuffs on him and shoving him back out of the dark and into the light. She came upon Eamon who was trying to help Rori to her feet. Two other units were already there, cuffing the other two men.


"Good work there LT."


"Thanks, but their condition goes to the credit of the parrot over here. Also, because the Alterds are Metas I am authorizing you to use Knockout to keep them sedated until we can determine their meta powers and jail them appropriately. I want them to be kept apart, all three of them, until Ketridge arrives. She can handle this, I have more important things to do." She took a needle of Knockout and inserted it into the arms of the man she had cuffed. It worked instantly.


"What about the girl?"


"She's a DJ. Ketridge is going to want to talk to her, to know what happened."


"I'll stay with Miss Hutchins until she returns to her senses then I'll escort her home Lieutenant."


She nodded in understanding. Ketridge wasn't a meta and though her sympathies didn't lie in their direction, she was at least honest and fair, even if she was fully supportive of the Meta registration. Any Meta who commits a crime will have their Meta abilities cataologued- that was law and the mayor allowed it so she could get her anti-meta abatement laws passed through. In all honesty Eve hadn't an issue with that. In her estimation it wasn't much different that having DNA and fingerprints taken. Eamon would make sure that whatever story Rori told wouldn't give Ketridge any cause to suggest she should register her powers.


She glanced at her watch and swore loudly. "And now I'm late, fucking late. You, Henslaw? Take the collar for this, I don't have the time to write this shit up and I don't fucking care."


Henslaw saluted with pleasure. "Yes sir, thank you sir!"


She allowed Eamon to give her a quick kiss goodbye before she sped away, all lights blazing as she drove into mid-town to investigate a possible homicide. Her evening decidedly sucked.
 



  • When Roarke finally arrived at the crime scene there were three marked units running lights. The small house had been sealed off with crime scene tape. Patterson was waiting for her, and lifted up the tape for the lieutenant when she came through, escorting the woman to the room where the body was.


    "Lieutenant Roarke. I'm officer Patterson. We got a call about 1715 about noise, complainant stated they heard screaming, which stopped abruptly, and then about 5 minutes later the smoke alarm went off but there was no sign of fire. Door was unlocked when we got here. After we called it in we looked around a bit. Guy's name was Dirk Goodman. We found his I.D.," she paused for a second, both in walking and in speaking before starting up again. "And his shield. He was an officer of the MPD."


    The house itself was nothing special. It was fairly orderly with the occasional marks of someone actually living there. The living room was the first room the door opened into, to the right a small kitchen and to the left a hallway with a couple of doors off of it. Pictures dotted the tables and walls, showing a family.


    The stench of ozone lingered underneath the foul odor of burnt flesh. Even though Roarke arrived rather later than expected, the smell had yet to fade although the people working in there have gotten used to the stench. The bedroom that the body was in was the second door to the right down the hallway. It was fairly untouched save for the grisly discovery in the corner, with the wall nearest it scorched, the charring on the wall seeming to emerge from the power socket.


    "Assumed COD is smoke inhalation, but we won't know for sure until the ME gets here. It's weird, though, how everything burnt is just in that one corner. And the CSI guys aren't here yet, either." Patterson crossed her arms over her chest as she stood outside the doorway to the room. "No one's touched the scene since we got here."

    You will find the following things if you look hard enough:


    Anything electric in the room has been burnt out.


    Anything with batteries has been drained.


    There aren't a whole lot of forensics, and no fingerprints since the guy wore gloves.


    And it's rather hard to make out but there seems to be a lightning bolt carved into the scorched wall.
 
Torsten Cooper


The call had come in, right at the end of his shift. He'd had half a mind to just toss it to the next guy on shift, but something about it called to him. So he finished his coffee, gathered up his equipment and rousted out the field technicians for some unscheduled overtime.


The kill location was fairly ordinary, a house in one of the run-down areas. A real 'no-tell' locality. In fact, Torsten was sure he'd indulged his 'hobby' in a vacated house further down the street. He wasn't sure, he knew: Albert Hendershaw, 72. The 'Baby-killer' responsible for the abduction and murder of a string of baby girls nearly fifty years ago. The kill had been the devil to perform, especially since Albert had a live-in carer. Ironically, she had been the younger sister of one of his victims. Irony or fate, Torsten didn't care. He had done the work carefully, drugging the carer's evening glass of wine, before carrying an unconscious Albert out the back door, along with a bag full of clothes and personal possessions. He had left Albert's trophies, a scrapbook filled with photos of his victims in their deathly repose and clippings of their hair, meticulously sealed in clear wax. If they were lucky, the police would be able to extract enough intact or degraded DNA from the trapped hairs to make an effective connection.


Torsten suited up and entered the property. In his left hand he had a dictaphone, his right his kit. As he went, he reeled off the badge numbers of the cops on scene. He would pull up their DNA and fingerprint records to discount them from any found in the area. He wandered through into the kill room recording his initial thoughts into the dictaphone.


"May 3rd, 9:46pm. Arrival on scene, 1008 Redbird Street, single-storey house. Victim has been visually identified through police identification located at the scene as Dirk Goodman, 33 years old, patrol officer out of the 17th Precinct. The location of the 'incident' is the master bedroom, one corner of which appear to have suffered heavy but localized burn damage which appears to originate from the power outlet."


He cast his gaze around the room. Something odd caught his eye. "Item: There appears to be a marking of some sort, what appears to be a lightning bolt on the burnt wall."


He pointed at it and the forensic tech taking photos snapped off a couple of shots of the symbol.


"Item:", he said as he circled the room again, "The TV is plugged in and the screen shows signs of surge damage."


Sure enough, there were the tell-tale scorch marks around the edges of the plasma screen that indicated a power surge. That and the strong odor of ozone that Torsten realized was not centered on the dead TV.


"Wait, has anyone killed the power to this room? If this is an electrically-based incident, there's the potential that a live circuit could put us all in danger!"
 
Lt. Eve Roarke, MPD


She nodded as she got the basics from the on scene, clipping her recorder to the lapel of her coat. The entire house stank of ozone, sweat, fear, piss, shit and god knew what else. She took her time examining the door, looking for signs of a break-in and not finding any. If the victim died here then chances are he knew his killer, she'd have to see what evidence the body gave. Although she could already hear Cooper in other room, she knew he'd also do it. Still, it helped her get it into her mind. Plus, she had certain talents he didn't and while she could sift through scents, he was not so lucky. She gave orders for media black-out. She didn't want anyone to so much as hint they had a dead cop.


"Hell of a thing Cooper," she said, coming into the same room as he. "Some baby killer vanished a while ago from this very neighborhood, the woman who was his carer was the younger sister of one of his victims, that did her head in, she needs a fucking shrink now. Personally, I think he's dead and someone got wise and did what the cops 50 years ago couldn't or wouldn't do. Either way he's burning in hell I'm sure." She pulled on gloves to examine the body. The signs of severe electrocution were evident and she knew only one person who could potentially pull off something like this. She had no witness, no leads, nothing that could physically tie him to the crime scene but there was no reason she couldn't talk to him and feel him out.


She noticed the burned out electrical devices, almost as he had to plug himself into the socket to get any juice. She made note of the lightning bolt on the wall. "This looks like the masked man who calls himself Lugh did this, but it's too pat, too easy. I need to find him and speak to him. I heard there were two out there playing the lightening game. But who did this?" She got closer to the body and inhaled, taking in the dead man's scent as well as the other scents on him but she didn't smell Aiden on him. She'd recognize it and whoever did this had to get close. "Torsten, we need to look for contact burns, I'm willing to bet whoever did this had to get close, real close to do this. And I'm willing to bet the stupid sonofabitch needed to touch him."
 
---- Joseph Barrett ----


"Tell me, Barrett, what is best in life?"


"Sir?"


An owl swooped overhead, hooting gently. Eventually Forrest recollected himself. "What is best, my man. Did you not watch Conan?"


"Uh...Well. Are you asking me? I guess...I guess it depends on what you like."


Barrett hit his head gently, hoping the boss hadn't heard that stroke of genius. Even the giant knew what a bad idea was, and this stalking had to be on the top of his list. A cold, dark night, with hardly a star in the sky. Even inside the van, there wasn't any comfort - the heater was either broken, or the boss had 'uninstalled' it to build character. Air Three's bruiser sighed gently to himself, mentally avoiding the little fiasco that had been that party in the park.


No, not a fiasco. Nothing had gone wrong. Barrett remembered that. The people had fun, ate lots of good food, and there was a good musician there. Barrett remembered, he had watched her through binoculars for at least two hours while the boss made his business calls. Business calls. Barrett shuddered quietly to himself. He did not like whoever was on the other end of the phone. They made the boss all giddy, and when the boss got giddy, things got really weird.


So maybe it was a fiasco? He'd been on the phone for a while, and Barrett watched the party. Kind of like what he was doing now. "Watching people?" He thought, out loud.


"Hunting. Hunting, Barrett, is what's best in life. Report."


Barrett wiped the nerves from his face. Boss had eagle eyes, after all. "Nothing so far, sir. They've caught the guys you were watching. Uh...there's still a bunch of people in the house." No response, Boss wasn't happy. "Nothing on the sensor things. No metas anywhere."


"Boss?"


Presently, the door of a large black van swung open, and Barrett clambered out, a massive dark shadow played against an unlit stage. Hands shaking slightly, he did his best to latch the back quietly, and only dropped the keys three times before he finally managed to lock the vehicle. With ease resembling a large bulldozer, the bruiser slipped into the nearest alleyway, huge hands barely managing to hold onto his Taser. As scary as it was, Barrett quietly appreciated the little thing: the boss had seen something, and that could only mean trouble.


---- Forrest Amsel ----


An owl swooped gently overhead, hooting like a madman and clutching his rifle upside down. Thank goodness for speed dial, that car moved faster than a bullet through a baby's brain. '3', 'Send.' The airman only just managed to contain his mirth in time for the first ring.
 
Paige Kenden


Falling in line with a police cruiser, Paige changes lanes while her phone goes off. That damn upbeat tone... She had all her contacts assigned to different ring tones just for the ease of not having to even look at the caller iD.


Sighing, she reaches inside a seam in her shoulder. The skin makes a slight ripping sound as she digs around inside her body. A few of her bugs fall out and skitter throughout the car. Brushing it off, she puts the phone to her ear.


"Pai- You've got Kenden. What do you want now, you've got good news right?"
 
---- Forrest Amsel ----


"We used to do middle schools, you know. Do you know what the first thing we told them was? Be careful around cars, or you'll get yourself hurt," Forrest chided, flicking his laser sight on to let it dance on the hood of the car in question.


But these weren't rookie days, and even the captain knew that. "If you must know, I'm calling, again as usual, to inquire as to the proximity of your esteemed personage to our site of operations." Pause. "And, since you asked, yes, we're doing fine tonight. I have my scope set on a marvelous set of trophies. A number of dissidents who have made quite a scene with their heroics. Grab them and bag them, if you will. I called the whole force out here just for that." Forrest idly recalled only writing down Barrett's silly code name on the last invoice. Ah well, it was better than just one.
 
Paige Kenden


The red light flickers across her hood as a hissing sigh leaves her. She couldn't go for a drive within running into people she knew anymore. "Listen. I think I understand half of what you say on a good day so I'm going to just assume you are doing your job and that's that."


There was no regret in supplying this nutcase but no way was she going to get her hands dirtier than normal. "I've got some people here I want to see and I don't think any plans are going to be messed up by my being here."
 
The sound of battle drove Noah's musing out of his head. Finally he thought sitting up. Maybe guns are a bit too much... nah pretty sure I am faster then them, it'll be fine.


He sped off in the direction of the noise wondering what on earth could be causing all the fuss. However even with his speed when he arrived the noises had stopped and cops were already on the scene. Confused to see no signs of gun play or explosions he sighed and turned away then started walking down the street.


Aw man another bust, that was totally going to be the real... whats that proper word for first appearance?... eh its not important. Well anyway it would have been the true first appearance of, hu guess I should really pick a name. Maybe-


He was so lost in thought again that he hadn't realised he had been walking further into gang territory. As such he was shocked when a large hand fell on his shoulder and spun him around roughly. The knife was another shock.


"I'll keep this simple for you shorta**, money, phone, now, and you don't get stabbed." The man was lanky and scruffy and if not for the knife he wouldn't have been very imposing.


It took Noah a moment before he could drag his eyes away from the knife point right in front of him. He finally looked up at the man with understanding. "... Wait, your mugging, me?" He said pointing to himself.


"Christ your a slow one, fine." As the man spoke his other hand shot out to grab Noah.


Noah easily hopped back out of reach. "And I am the slow one? But really? I spend the night running around looking for stuff and then when I stop I am the one that is mugged?" The man looked confused for a moment as the little git he was mugging seemed to be enjoying the experience.


"Hold still you little s**t!" The man was quick to anger and slashed with the knife only to have Noah once again easily move aside.


"Could you at least try?" Noah ask mockingly as he ducked aside from another few attacks. He hadn't expected to be the victim but still this was what he was looking for. He figured he would let the guy get tired before hitting back.
 
Rebecca Viridian


She growled angrily and walked to her window where she heard a noise of someone saying hold still. She couldn't sleep and the last thing she wants to hear are drug junkies. She opened the window and saw the two men "Shut the fuck up! Can't a productive woman get some fucking sleep?" She sees a knife in one of the guys hand, but got her head in and yells "och, fuckin christ" in her Scottish accent and slams the window.
 
Aiden McKinnery Lugh


What sounds like World War III, IV and V combined galvanises the young vigilante into action and he races toward what must be a titanic battle. He checks his equipment and is reassured that his retractable batons are up his sleeves, his ice axes are hung from the side-straps of his pack and his crossbow is securely strapped to the back of it. As he gets to the street where the noise is coming from it is suddenly snuffed out and he is forced to slow his headlong race to track the source as best he can. As he comes out a side street, he hears a familiar voice, "Oye, asshole, freeze, police! Move and I'll drop you like a fat kid drops PE. You let the nice girl go and get your skinny ass on the ground, put your hands behind your fucking head and keep them where I can see them."


Of course it had to be Roarke. Aiden sighs as his chance to be a hero is usurped by 'Megalopolis' Finest'. At least there's one cop in this city who actually does the job of catching the bastards. As more red and blues turn up, Aiden decides that his presence is certainly superfluous and heads off before some bright copper decided to shine a torch in his direction.


He roamed aimlessly, cursing his inability to carry any electronics meant he couldn't even have a police band scanner to see where the night's troublemakers were making their presences known.


He gets maybe a street or two away from Roarke's little party when he hears raised voices, a man and either a woman or young boy. A bellowed voice, brazenly Scottish rings out, "Shut the fuck up! Can't a productive woman get some fucking sleep?" then a moment later, more panicky, "Och, fucking Christ!"


That sold it. Aiden took to his heels and almost immediately found the cause of the problem. He could see a guy with a hunting knife facing off against.... Wasn't that the kid from the park? It certainly looked like him, even wearing the same red hoodie. With a sigh, Lugh decided to make his presence felt.


"Oi, arsehole!", he called out and the knife-wielder turned to look at him.


He recognised the man instantly and the panicked expression on the mugger's face told him he was remembered too.


"Well now, Jimmy 'Fingers'. I thought I told ye th' las' time I saw ye that if I saw ye on th' streets after sunset wit' no good reason, it'd be the worse for ye?", he smiled from behind his mask, folding his arms.


Jimmy licked his suddenly dry lips and brandished the knife.


"I'm not afraid of you, you bastard!" , he growled, "Bleedin' Meta-freak, all your lot should be locked away an' have the keys thrown away."


"Now dat's jus' plain rude, Jimmy.", Lugh responded and unfolded his arms, carefully slipping out the retracted batons from his sleeves.


"Fuck off!", Jimmy yelled, then lunged.


Lugh had seen the attack coming long before Jimmy moved and responded appropriately. He flicked his wrists, extending the copper wire-wrapped batons to their fullest extent and channelled his lightning into them. As Jimmy came close, Lugh hopped back an equal distance and extended his right hand, arcing electricity from the tip of his baton to the point of the knife. The blade was cloaked with a blue web of electricity which arced straight into Jimmy, throwing him to the ground with a bright flash and loud crack of thunder. The mugger lay there for a moment, stunned before groggily clambering to his feet and trying to run.


"Not this time, Jimmy.", Lugh called out and fired another burst of lightning from his left baton, this one putting the mugger out for the count.


The vigilante walked over to the fallen man and checked his pulse, before pulling his wrists behind his back and securing them with a heavy-duty zip-tie he'd 'borrowed' from work. These things could secure a weakling like Jimmy long enough for a cop to come and take him away. With the villain secured, Lugh went over to the kid.


"Mind if I ask why a young lad like yerself's out at this time o' night? Haven't ye got a home t' go to? A ma worryin' for ye? This ain't th' best place t' go wanderin' this late at night."
 
Rebecca Viridian


She stormed out, a nice green night dress on her flowing behind her and she touched a iron alloy lamppost. "I SAID Shut the fuck up!" She stopped, seeing one guy knocked out. She raised an eyebrow and turned her arm back. She looked at the other two, clearly remembering one of them from the park. "What?"
 
Aiden McKinnery Lugh


Looking at the young redheaded woman with surprise, Lugh bowed.


"Beggin' yer pardon for disturbin' ye, miss. This poor young lad was bein' threatened by this piece o' shite, before I came an' leant a hand. Would ye be so kind as t' call the MPD so they can come an' drag this trash off yer street an' then we can all have a peaceful end t' the evenin'?", he replied, retracting his batons as he spoke and slipping them back up his sleeves, "An' ye might want t' slip on a bathrobe or somethin'. It's gettin' awful cold out tonight, an' I'm sure a 'productive woman' such as yerself'd not want t' be struck down sit' the 'flu or somethin'."
 
Noah watched in amazement as Lugh took down the mugger. That was my take down a small irritated part of him thought as the masked man approached. The rest of him simply went with "That was freaking awesome!"


It was obvious he didn't like the question about home and family so just simply ignored them and focused on the first. "I am out doing the same as you, and that was totally my villain but I will let you off because you look so bada**." The comment was said as though Noah considered it the most decent thing he could do for the man. Half of his words ran together with the speed at which he talked. "Where did you get all the stuff? How many guys have you taken down tonight? Do you have a lair?" Having seen Lugh's display Noah was unafraid of showing his own skills so while the barrage of questions were asked he would made quick dashes appearing at different sides of Lugh so he could check out the different weapons and gear. "Cool crossbow, are you like a hero who kills people? Cos that's not really right. Oh yeah that lightning was sweet."


Noah was so focused on the vigilante he hadn't even realised the rude women from the window had appeared next to them.

I apologise for Noah I'm pretty sure he gets way too excited for the age he is supposed to be, and yeah Lugh is going to get pestered.
 
Rebecca Viridian


She looked down then crossed her arms, trying not to laugh at the boy being so inquisitive. "och, sorry for the peepshow, how unladylike. I'll get this bastard in custody. And wee lad, you in the red." She points at the boy asking the questions. "Be more careful. You don't want your pretty face fucked up. Now I have work tomorrow. Good night" Rebecca turned before she flipped her hair and went back inside.
 
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