A New Order [IC]

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FrenziedAce

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Somewhere in New York City

Clouds fill the sky on another dreary day, a smoke fills the air as a man leans against a building, watching a street performer strum an electric guitar, the musician performing some half decent cover of an old Rolling Stones song, a friend next to him banging on a set of bongos as he sings. The cigarette smoking man coughs as he removes it from his mouth, his cough disturbing a group of pigeons perched just above him. Around him people move back and forth, cars going by slowly on the nearby street as the man watches the guitarist gets more aggressive with his playing, the singer's foot tapping to the rhythm.

As the smoking man places the cigarette back into his mouth a beep is heard from within his large winter jacket, he rolls his eyes and reaches a hand into one of the pockets. From within the pocket he pulls out a cell phone, the screen lit up indicating a message.

Get over here right away. The new blood is being drawn.

The man doesn't reply to the message, he simply glances at it for another second before dropping the cigarette from his mouth, then stomping it into ash with his boot. Finally he adjusted his baseball cap with both hands, then began to walk away before pausing in his step, dropping a crisp five dollar bill in the guitar case. The green piece of paper floating down accompanied by the cold winter breeze. As soon as it hit he was gone into the crowd, off to wherever he was summoned.
Elsewhere, at the Guardians' Syndicate HQ

"Any new information on that Jack bastard?" The superhero Phoenix asked, he was seated inside the conference room, the man speaking into a communicator.

"No, we've been in contact with the police department ever since that lunatic emerged into the public eye. They've been running matches for anyone in their criminal database but they've found nothing. It's like we're chasing a ghost, everytime we get word of him appearing he is gone in a flash." Penumbra said back, he was seated in the Hall, near the entrance, typing into a laptop as he communicated with Phoenix through the in ear communicator.

"Well, it is quite hard to get face matches when he's wearing a mask." Phoenix said jokingly, Penumbra not laughing at the joke. He didn't reply right away because the superheroine known as Fortuna approached him, a small group of new Syndicate recruits behind her.

"Giving the grand tour, Alice?" Penumbra asked, a friendly expression on his face as he looked over the new members.

"That I am, where's the other one?"

"Conference room."

"I'm right in here Alice, I'll speak to the rookies if you herd them in my direction." Phoenix said, the communicator in Fortuna's ear receiving the message.

"I guess they'll get to meet the great Penumbra first," She said with a smile towards the seated Penumbra before turning towards the group. "May I introduce Penumbra, one of our most senior members."

"Nice to meet you all." He replied, mustering a smile at the group.

"Now, if you all want me to, then I'll give you guys a quick tour." Fortuna said as she walked off, Penumbra focusing back on his laptop.
Isabella De Santa

You have been booked a room at the prestigious Cosmos Resort, a place in the nicer part of the city, right by the river. The resort serves as a retreat and hotel for only the wealthiest people. Shortly after your 'invitation' to the Collective arrived, a second note arrived, this one instructing you to go to the resort where a room was already booked for you under a pseudonym 'Lucy Winter'. Once you arrived in your hotel room you find a letter waiting for you in your resort mailbox. Once you open it you find your next step to joining the Collective, a cleverly written letter with some darkly hidden intentions:

Greetings, Ms. Winter.

I hope you are enjoying the sights of the resort, while you are there you absolutely have to meet. Mr. Jonny Aiello, the last surviving member of the famous Aiello family. In order to find his room you must head down the hallway to your right as you exit your room, from there you head up the stairs. It is the fourth room on the right in a long hallway you find yourself in following the staircase.

He is not expecting you, but I'm sure he will be pleased to meet you. He may have the company of several friends, though Mr. Aiello is the one you must make sure to meet. I must apologize that I cannot be there myself, but please, send my regards, and please, do take care of him, he is an old associate.
- J.​
Cat

You awaken to find yourself in a large cage, one large enough to fit a lion or tiger. The cage is located in what appears to be a sparsely filled basement of some old building. Directly in front of you is a door which leads to stairs. In the room are some stacked chairs, a desk, taped shut boxes and an old television. Junk by any other words. Despite being in this cage, you have all of your typical possessions and clothing.

Sitting just in front of the cage is a folded piece of paper with the letter 'C' written on the outside of it. You open the note and read the contents, revealing your initiation into the Collective.

Sorry for placing you in such a difficult position, but I have the up most confidence that you will be able to break out of this cage, it is a very old lock after all. Once you get yourself out the cage you are to then find your way out of the building you are currently in the basement of. It is a Victorian style house, inside are several men who do not know of your presence, nor will appreciate it if they find you. It does not matter what happens to these men, just that they do not cause a disturbance that would in turn cause the local authroities to investigate.​
- J.​
Bones

You find yourself seated in a dimly lit small room, yourself one of three people seated around a wooden round table. The other two men look frightened as the door comes open in the room, a masked man entering, a ski mask hiding his face, a revolver in his hand. The man loads one single round into the revolver, spins it, then hands it to the first man.

"Russian roulette. Boss wants to see how lucky you guys are." The masked man states to the group, his eyes narrowing on Bones as the man now holding the revolver places the barrel to his head, closes his eyes, likely prays and squeezes the trigger. The gun clicks but does not fire, indicating he survives this time. He looks at the masked man who gives him another look as the revolver is placed down on the table. The masked man slides it to Bones before speaking.

"Your turn." He states, crossing his arms, a camera can be seen just behind him in the upper corner of the room.
Damien Rhodes

"The word is that the Collective is pissed at the boss, we might wanna get out while we can still walk."

"Is that why he brought in those powered weirdos? Does he think that'll make the Collective freaks think twice about killing us all if some of their own kind are working for us?"

"That shit won't work, man, you and I both know that. Haven't you heard stories about that Jack psychopath? The guy cut off all of the limbs of one man who betrayed him, then hid each of the limbs in a different borough in the city. I don't want that happening to me." The gangster said to his fellow gang member, both of them smoking cigarettes, a handgun tucked into each of their waistbands. Both men were members of the Irish mobster group, 'The Butchers', lead by twin bothers Mike and Sam Flanagan. The gang was small in size, but did enough to get themselves noticed and then aligned with the Collective.

"What did Sam even do? Did he snitch or something?"

"Hell if I know man."

Both men walk away, still in conversation, but as they move you cease to hear what they're talking about. You have aligned with the Butchers, you're one of three superhuman mercenaries they hired, so far you've seen no action, but received a nice enough frontal payment of cash with promise of more that you can't complain, still the whole situation is strange. You are standing inside of a gated off area in the harbor of NYC, this part in particular serving as a port for goods shipped in and out of the city. The Butchers heavily involved with illegally trading weapons and drugs this way.

"You hear what they're talking about, man?" Someone says to you, a man approaching you, large, dressed in jeans, combat boots and a leather jacket, his hair cut into a mohawk and both ears pierced. He is one of the other superhuman mercenaries, his power enhanced speed, allowing him to sprint up to 100 miles per hour. His name is Mason.

"They're saying the Collective might be coming for us, you hear about those guys? They're not so tough man, I could take them with your help of course." Mason said, smiling nervously at you.
[/hr]​
 
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Paul Higgens | Substance

The fog slowly cleared from his mind. The recesses quickly filling with the events he assumed was from the previous eve. He had arrived at the location stated on the card. It was an out of the way alley in NYC, filled only by a green dumpster and the steam from a street vent. He was adamant about coming on time, but no one was there. He called out a few times and decided to wait a while. The rumours about the Collective had found their way to Paul's ears. Rumours weren't always to be trusted, but he had to admit the prospect of joining some criminal elite was definitely appealing. Seconds ticked by, turning into minutes. It seemed like he was had. No one would be coming was the last thought that drifted into his head before a dart pegged into his neck.

Paul's eyes drifted up to take in the sight before him. A man, strapped to a chair, fear quite evident in his eyes. Paul didn't recognize the brown haired fellow, which in his opinion was certainly a perk. As the loudspeaker shut off with a click, leaving the objective hanging in the air, Paul stood. He brushed off his clothes, trying to rid it of dust. His neck ached a bit, but he ignored it, scanning the room for a security camera.

"Today just isn't your day," he said. "If you heard the rumours, you must know, as a "hopeful" what I'll be willing to do. So I'm willing to give you a chance. I don't want my clothes any dirtier than they already are, and you don't want to suffer unnecessarily." Paul rubbed his wrists and cracked his fingers. "I can assure you. Blood is a very stubborn stain."

Paul had expected some form of initiation, but this was a bit underwhelming. Giving a beating, as well as taking one, was something you learned about quickly in jail. The captive remained silent, only his ragged breathing filling the small chamber. A scowl spread on Paul's face.

"I suppose if you willingly talked you wouldn't be here." So started the interrogation. A swift fist flew through the air, connecting to jawbone. A second blow landed on the man's cheek. A barrage of fists men their mark. Moments later the man going by the name Substance stood back. The bound man's face was a bloody mess. His lower lip had split, and eyebrow had followed suit. His nose gushed red and red marks promised the presence of bruises in the future.

"Now…" Paul took a breath, "How about telling me about that plot."
 
Alexander Cairo/Syndicate

Meta yawned as he followed the group of recruits around the Syndicate building. He had to admit, this place was swanky, he had never seen anything like this, at most, the nicest thing he had ever seen was flowers on pink wallpaper. A woman named Fortuna was leading them around the building, pointing things out as they went on. Apparently, she was a hero, that he did not know about, although he really never checked up on other heroes on a while, not that he really felt the need to. They eventually they made there way into a room were a man was seated, looking over his laptop, the woman introduced himself as Penumbra, one of the senior members. With how hard the man was working, he could already tell that this place would be a lot of work. The woman then led the out and continued the tour, although Meta remained uninterested, he still payed attention to what was going on.


 

The shaking of the floor caused by the train going across the tracks stirred Rose to consciousness. She slowly opened her sore, bloodshot eyes and was momentarily blinded by the sun peeping into the open window. Funny, she didn't remember opening her window last night, she didn't really remember much from last night either actually. Which was bad, Rose knew this but for some reason she couldn't be bothered to care about it, or anything else really. Just her warm bed was so inviting that she started to let her eyes drift closed….

HONK HONK Rose shot up in bed groaning as she covered her pounding overly sensitive ears. She had forgotten that trains make loud noises. She had forgotten that noise was her alarm clock…which means she has to be somewhere. "Fuck…" Spotting her phone on the dresser she fought with the tangled mess of covers and scrambled out of bed. Rose gasped and took notice of the face down naked man at the foot of her bed. "Goddamnit Kathy." Rose grabbed her phone off the dresser and checked the time. It wasn't too late, but still in her current state she couldn't be going to classes then work without slacking. Opening the door to the adjoining bathroom, she was greeted with another unwanted sight, some redhead passed out in her tub. No showering here. Still she looked in the mirror and scared herself.

'This confetti came from where exactly?' She worked to shake most of it out of her nest of hair and splashed cold water on her face. Looking slightly better she stuck out her tongue to hopefully see evidence of the culprit responsible for her hangover, it was blue. Jell-O shots, this had her roommate written all over it. Throwing on random clothes and trying to make herself look less fucked up than she already she was ready to go in minutes.

Walking out to the main living area she spotted her roommate in a mass of blonde curls, half naked snuggled next to another naked man. Shaking her head she wrote out a note to her, Naked guy and passed out girl better be out of my room by the time I get home. –R Yup. That's what she gets for rooming with a rich valley girl, and theater major. She had to go sober up, Rose was feeling dehydrated and Rose and no water for 24 hours is not good. Her body was craving it which meant she wouldn't have much control over her…things. Closing the door behind her she was numb to the fact that the doorknob was now enclosed in ice. She blew on her fingertips and shook the ice crystals off. 'Coffee and water. Top priority as of now.'

Reaching the coffee shop that down the street was a daunting task for Rose. Keeping her ice chipped hands in her pockets, and not making any sudden movements when near a water fountain or a puddle slowed her down some but she made it with now unfrozen hands. Ordering the biggest coffee and an even bigger water Rose forwent any food options feeling her gag reflex would come into effect at some point in the day. 'Why did Kathy throw that party?" Why did I join her?' Oh yea. Kevin broke up with her last night. Rose's ears burned with embarrassment and hatred of him and how she dealt with the situation. Getting drunk and dancing with Kathy and her wild friends are not the way to do it. Kevin just couldn't deal with her secretiveness and Rose didn't want to tell him or anyone about her…thing. 'It had to happen.' That little voice in her head said, it was her fear talking and she was getting sick of being slave to it. Rose unscrewed the cap on her water and took a long gulp wincing at its lukewarm taste. Glancing around she let one finger time freeze over and placed it in the bottle, smiling when the perspiration began forming around the drink signaling its cooling temperature. "Small benefits." She whispered to herself feeling her body begin healing itself now that she quenched her thirst.

The door slamming coming from the back of the coffee counter grabbed Roses attention before anyone else. Everyone else ignored it and continued with their mundane activities as one of the employees went to the back to investigate. Rose glanced at the door, something inside of her wanted to leave, right now. But she stayed keeping her eyes glued on the corner the barista went behind. One single gunshot and her body dropped to the floor a bullet wound in the center of her head. Rose's eyes widened as the world froze for a split second. People began screaming around her as three young men emerged from the corner yelling at each other while waving around big machine guns.


"Frank why you gotta go and shoot her man!? Aw fuck fuck fuck fuck! Its over we're screwed!"

"Chill man, the bitch was gonna scream and blow our cover! What the hell was I supposed to do!?"


"Both of you calm down." A man emerged from behind the corner looking eerily calm strolled out and scanned the crowd and smiled like he was excited. A chill ran through my body. Behind him was a scrawny looking teenager with an equally sinister look in his eye, he walked around to the front and dropped two heavy bags full of money to the ground then leaned casually against the counter.

Two stupid people decided to make a run for the door then and the first sinister looking man was suddenly in front of the door, he teleported. "Where are you two going? Party's in here." They flew back all of a sudden and slammed against the wall. Rose's eyes were bulging out of her head, she had seen other people with...things before from afar but this was the first time she saw it up close, and this could have possibly been the death of her. This really set off the crowd then, people began crying and screaming and the teleporting man sighed getting agitated,


"Will, shut them up will you?"

The man who was leaning against the counter sat up obediently and his hands burst into flames and shot out fire over the crowd's heads. It was quiet then. Teleporting man pulled out a device and cursed under his breath. "Cops are on their way from the bank, someone called in the gunshot Frankie." Will had turned off the flame hands then clearly happy at the trembling group before him. Rose was the only one who still sat calmly, and Will glared at her a moment before turning back to teleporting man, "Are they going to call the Syndicate?" Teleporting man shrugged, "Perhaps, since they have witnesses to someone using flame hands on the safe. Frankie. John. Get the hostages to the center of the room, take their phones."

Once that was done, Rose found herself in the center of the room next to a sniffling woman trying to figure a way out of this. She didn't want to expose herself but they were up against two people with abilities and no one else in the room looked like they had any themselves…
 
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@j8cob

Amelia was walking around town in her Oracle outfit. She was trying to track her new bounty. A woman called Isabella De Santa. She was sent by some men that claimed she murdered their family. Oracle found out after a bit of research in private computer files and word around the criminal underworld with her numerous connections. The bounty hunter found out she was the daughter of the ex mafia boss Vincent De Santa. She thought that name was familiar but couldn't know why. She was looking for her around town, constantly looking at her electronic bracelet. Her employers gave her hints to the mafia lord's daughter location but couldn't give her all because it wasn't to sure and they didn't want to get killed if the bounty hunter didn't succed. Oracle arrived at a hotel room and knocked on the door Isabella was staying at.
 
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Cat sat with a gasp and casted her emerald green eyes around the dimly lit basement, sitting up she moved froward to the cage door, and read the note there, sitting back with a sigh she pulled her lock picking set out of her pocket, scooting forward and twining her arms through the bars she started picking with the old lock, twisting the picks expertly between her fingers, she grinned when she heard the audible 'click' and pulled her arms back through the bars and slid the picks into their respective pouches in the set, closing the little black booklet she placed it back in her pocket and removed the lock and slid the door open, moving out of the cage she stood up and dusted herself off. Pocketing the note as well she moved and pushed the door open and looked up the stairs, "well if this had been a warehouse this would be easier"

Cat moved up the steps and opened the door cautiously, peeking around the corner she saw that the basement door opened into a hallway, to the left was the large kitchen and to the right the hall opened up into a sitting room, where two men sat playing cards, she arched her eye brow and scanned the sitting room from where she crouched on the top step of the stairs, seeing a large golden metal vase with elegant sketchings on it she smiled and stood up and moved out the door, closing the door with a "thud" causing the two men to glance up, she walked toward them seductively as they stood up in shock, the golden vase rose with them and hovered above the one on the lefts head, Cat gave them a coy smile as the vase smacked into the man's head dropping him unconscious, rounding the vase on the other man he pulled out a concealed gun but by the time he brought it up the decoration connected with his skull making him fall in a heap beside his companion. Cat set the vase back on its stand and moved through the sitting room elegantly into the living room where another man had his gun up and was stalking toward her, seeing her he shot out and Cat gasped and the bullet froze in the air, leaping forward she flipped through the air landing lightly on her feet behind him she stepped up and twisted his neck with an elegant twist. Frowning down at him she bent to check his pulse, which was still beating "I just broke your neck, I'm sorry" she smiled and opened the front door and causally strolled outside.

Stopping at a bar she sat in the corner, her bright green eyes focused on the fake mahogany as she nursed a single malt scotch, she twisted her phone around on the table subconsciously, her leg propped up at a ninty degree angle with her black high heel resting on the table top, her eyes would slide from the table to the black screen of her phone and then back to the table restlessly, she wondered why she had left her little city in Oregon to come to the Big Apple, probably because she had that kind of money, to move wherever she wanted, sure she wasn't proud that all her money was stolen, she just needed it more then the people she'd taken it from. Taking a sip of her scotch she lifted her emerald eyes to look over at the bartender who was serving drinks with an expert pace, flipping the alcohol bottles with ease, a small smile played at her lips as she took another drink of her scotch.
 
The young, dark haired woman set the letter down on the suite's bar counter after reading it. "I suppose I should dress up for the visit," Isabella said out loud, with her thick Italian accent. She was clearly dressed up already, judging by the vibrant red dress and black high-heels. But she was referring to something a bit more lethal. She walked across the suite to the suitcase she placed on the couch, opening it up with a smile on her face. It was filled mostly with clothes but Isabella quickly withdrew its hidden weapons. First she removed a respectably sized knife, lifting up her short dress to reveal a thigh holster for it on her left leg. After placing that on her person she withdrew a small handgun, storing it similarly to the knife but on her right leg. Now that she was armed, she was ready to go.

Isabella hardly zipped the suitcase back up before she heard a knock at the door. "I did not call room service!" she called to the door, irritated that someone would bother her so quickly after her arrival. Then she realized that it couldn't be hotel staff at the door. The Collective wouldn't give her anything more than instructions. The Italian woman eyed the door for a moment before removing a cellphone from her bra. She pressed a button for speed dial and the phone was answered after only one ring. "Yes, Ms. De Santa?" a male Italian voice answered. "Bring the limousine to the front of the resort. I will be there in five minutes," she instructed before facing the door, "I am suspicious of treachery. If I am not out or I do not call then come get me." The second part she made sure to speak quieter than the first, as she didn't know how well one could hear through doors. In fact she didn't know if the person was still at the door or not.

"Understood," the voice responded before ending the call. With the back-up out of the way, Isabella put the phone back and approached the door. Without any warning she yanked the door open, as it opened into the room rather than the hallway. Before her was some strange woman dressed in a silly, colorful costume. "Scosti, move," Isabella demanded, making a waving motion with her hand as if she was shooing the strange woman away. "I do not want what you sell." With that she simply shoved past, making sure to close the door behind her as she advanced. If this person was an assailant then Isabella knew she had nothing to fear. If the strange person was a cop of some kind, Isabella knew she really had nothing to fear. There was nothing this weirdo could do other than distract her or annoy her.
 
An undisclosed location

"What plot? I don't know what you're talking about man." The captive known as Alonso said, his facial expression one of fear and shock. His brown hair razzeled from him being roughed around, green eyes filled with surprise as he lifted his head up, a single drop of crimson blood dropping from his nose. He coughed before glancing back up at Substance.

"I have a family man, a girlfriend and a little girl, barely two years old." He wheezed out, soon if not immediately tears would begin to flow down his face. The loudspeaker remained silent as the ones watching Substance's initiation waited with curious eyes. Alonso may have been bluffing, or he may be right and the Collective was just playing some sick game with Substance. Nothing was certain about this situation, but the man did fit the description of a typical gang banger. Slovenly dressed, a suspicious, tattoo, possibly one a man could only get from being in a street gang on his right forearm.
An unremarkable bar

"Was it really that easy?" The bartender asked Cat as he moved over towards her, shortly after passing out drinks to other patrons. The man raised one eyebrow, looking Cat right into her eyes, his own eyes possessing an unusual look to them, like they were not his own. "If you think you can much handle worse than that then you're going to want to look at this." The bartender added, placing a playing card in front of Cat. However, the Queen bearing is only on one side of the card, on the other is writing, perfect cursive, in another word beautiful if you were a fan of fancy handwriting.

Congratulations on making it this far, we think you'll fit in nicely with us. Come to the warehouse at the end of this street. Approach the front gate, show this card to the first guard to speak with you and he will let you inside. Then the real journey begins.

A street address is inscribed on the bottom of card, just below the message. The bartender is on the other side of the bar, looking like he didn't even speak to Cat.
Cosmos Resort

As Isabelle made her moves in the hotel part of the resort, the man the Collective asked her to 'meet' had exited his room. He was dressed in a fine suit, his hair slicked back, a five o'clock shadow on his face and a pair of sunglasses sat on top of his head. He adjusted his shades with his right hand, a fancy Rolex watch resting on his wrist. This man, Jonny Aiello, was not alone, three noticeably larger men flanked around him, each dressed in similar, but less expensive and attention drawing clothing.

The Aiello led group passed through the lobby, exiting the front door, they moved down the right side of the sidewalk immediately outside the resort. Ironically enough the group walked right by Isabella's limo. They stopped a short distance away as Aiello pulled his cell phone from his pocket, raising it to his ear as he called someone, his entourage standing around him.
A coffee shop

The three criminals stood around, no one saying a word as police sirens blared. As soon as they could look out the front windows they noticed four police cars pulling up in front of the shop, they twisted and swerved before stopping in a barricade formation in the street in front of the shop. A minute later a voice could be heard emitting from a loudspeaker, one of the cops trying to handle the situation.

"We've got the place surrounded, this does not have to end badly, you can come out of this safely. Please, just surrender, come out of the front with your hands up." The loudspeaker cut off and the scene was silent for a moment except for the blaring sirens. Behind the cars parked out front were police, guns drawn, ready to take charge if the worst case scenario occurred.

"Fuck."

"It's just cops, they can't do shit knowing we have hostages. Get behind something, they're gonna have shooters set up."

"What about the Syndicate?"

"Don't worry about those tools, they're like the cops, they don't want any of these innocent people to get hurt," Will said, glancing at Rose then the other civilians. "You all stay right where you are, anyone moves even an inch, they get splattered into a wall." He added as the three men took cover away from the front of the store, each one clenching a gun.
Guardians Syndicate NY HQ - The Hall

"And this is the library, one of the few quiet areas in the building, well outside of the laboratories," Fortuna said, turning towards the group of new recruits. "The library is stocked with thousands of books, science fiction, history, horror, we have it all, and it is all for you to read at your leisure." She was about to continue speaking when an alarm began ringing throughout the building, causing Fortuna to nearly jump in surprise before regaining composure and speaking.

"That is the alarm signaling an ongoing crime that requires our assistance. I'm not sure wh-" She is cut off as Phoenix's voice booms over the loudspeaker, over the alarm.

"There is a robbery in the city, the suspects are held up in a coffee shop with hostages. I will be heading over there immediately, Penumbra appears to be already there." He said, before his voice cut off.

"Fortuna, this may be a perfect example to show the rookies how the Syndicate handles a terrible situation such as this. Bring them up front, I'll have vehicles set up for those of you that need them. Phoneix out." He said into her communicator.

"Alright guys, if anyone would like to witness and hopefully not experience first hand what it's like being in the Syndicate then get ready to move out. We meet out front in five, find the two black SUVs, I'll be in one of them." Fortuna said to the group before moving towards the door. "We'll continue the tour later, maybe. Hopefully under less crazy circumstances." She added, then left the room.
 
The boring woman continued to drone on about this and that, it was all uninteresting to him, the only reason he would need to know we're the library was, is if he was looking for a quiet place to take a nice nap. Meta stretched and yawned silently, mulling to him self when this would end and when could then go eat. This place was a real eyesore, there was nothing but work, work, work, this whole place screamed work, something that he hated doing at all. Just the everything went red and the alarms started to go off. It was like those air raid alarms they played in movies. A loud speaker came on and explained that there was a robbery going on at the moment. The tour guide slash hero immediately offered them the choice of going with them, of staying behind. Meta would have loved to go to that library and sleep,but he did not want to look like an idiot in front of everyone else, so walked out the room and made his way to the front doors. Once he got there he took a seat in one if the black vans and closed his eyes, the soft hum of the engine was nice and relaxing, he could get used to this.
 
Cat stared at the card for a while still sitting at the table in the bar, taking a sip of her single malt scotch the bartender had generously refilled, she let her green eyes inspect the queen and the elegant hand writting, was she really going to go through with is? Of course she was, she pulled her plastic black back pack over her shoulders and pocketed her phone, downing the last of her scotch she dropped a neatly rolled crisp hundred dollar bill in the now empty glass and moved out the door into the street, stretching elegantly once outside she glanced down to the end of the street where a street light flicked eerily off and on.
She strided down the sidewalk with a confident gait and as she neared the gate where two armed guards stood she smiled a lazy smile and causally handed the taller one on the right the card the bartender had given her s he opened his mouth to speak, shutting his jaw he glanced at the card and opened the gate just enough for her to slip through, as she danced past him she dropped a kiss on his cheek before moving with a liquid grace toward the main doors of the warehouse.
 
Sirens. Sirens rarely signaled good- No, no they were not signaling anything pleasant. This was confirmed by a voice over the sound systems and reinforced by the words of the tour guide. Tour guide? Hero. Lucian corrected himself. These creatures possessed greater combat experience and resources. Now was not the time to belittle them, even in the privacy of his own mind. A soft exhale accompanied the mind catching up with present events as he blinked, then realized people were moving. Rewind. What had the heroine said? Ah, of course. The tour isn't over yet. We've hit the portion which leads out and about. The pale creature crept off in search of these vehicles that Fortuna mentioned with a lick of their lips and a slew of anticipatory thoughts. This could be fun, or incredibly boring. Lucian had intention to try and make it fun.
 
After navigating past the oddly dressed woman in the hallway, Isabella entered the stairwell. She would've preferred to take the elevator but as the target was only the floor above hers it didn't matter much in the end. She walked with a brisk pace, only stopping once she reached the door to the target's room. She gave a polite knock on the door with her left hand as she drew her gun with her right. "Room service," she spoke up, using a sweet-sounding voice though she couldn't mask her heavy Italian accent. She waited and listened for a moment but no sounds came out of the room. Her patience lasted only five seconds before deciding it was time. With an expertly-executed shoulder charge, the Italian woman knocked the door off its hinges. The gun was up, primed for combat. But Isabella realized that they had already left the room.

"Merda," she let out, walking over to the window. She looked down, immediately identifying her own limousine in front of the lobby. However she quickly spotted a suspicious looking group. There was a man with three larger men surrounding him, obviously bodyguards. Probability of this man being Jonny Aiello: very high. She holstered the pistol back on her thigh as she re-entered the hallway. Nobody had seen the broken door just yet so she was clear to pursue the target. Now there was definitely no time to use the elevator. Her heels made constant, rapid clacking sounds as she descended the staircase she used earlier, though this time she skipped the floor that her room was on and continued to the ground floor.

Despite her rush, she slowed down as she entered the fancy lobby. She had to appear perfectly calm and inconspicuous. At least for another twenty seconds. A young gentleman that was entering the resort along with several friends gave Isabella a wink as they crossed paths. But she gave him nothing in response, merely ignoring him as she walked toward her limo. Thankfully, Aiello and his entourage weren't too far from her waiting car, so she could get fairly close without looking suspicious. Isabella approached the front of the limo, tapping against the glass of the passenger-side window. The tinted glass rolled down electronically, allowing Isabella to see the driver. "Gregory," she addressed the driver. "I am going to make a bloody pasticcio. I want you to back the car up to me when you hear me shoot."

She looked through the glass that separated the driver from the rest of the limousine. In the back were two other men. "You two. Stay put. I will require help when I am finished." One of them nodded and the other confirmed with a: "yes, Ms. De Santa." With her plan now in motion, Isabella stood upright as the window rolled back up. She withdrew her pistol again in the same motion of standing up, holding it to her side casually and inconspicuously. The Italian woman began walking toward Jonny Aiello and his bodyguards. At first they didn't seem to notice, as they weren't necessarily facing her direction. But as the bodyguards were constantly looking around, one of them saw the woman with a gun eventually.

As that lucky bodyguard began to spring into action, Isabella already had her pistol aimed. She fired a single shot, hitting the man directly in the left eye and exiting through the back of his head. The other two began rotating instinctively, putting themselves between Jonny and Isabella. As they had to draw their weapons and Isabella was already aiming, it was easy for her to line up another shot. The second time her gun fired the bullet hit one of the bodyguards right on the nose, passing through his skull and killing him like the first. Though the resort wasn't particularly crowded there were plenty of people to hear the shots. It had only been two seconds and panic was already starting to kick in for the witnesses.

As Isabella lined up her third shot, the bodyguard had already withdrew his submachine gun and returned fire. An automatic weapon like that required little aiming at their range and Isabella was struck twice in his spray. One bullet entered her abdomen and the other her left breast. She fell over from the damage, causing the bodyguard to cease fire. While they assumed she was taken out, that was far from the case. The sound and sight of the limousine reversing to line up next to Jonny caught the bodyguard's attention and he began to aim his weapon at the vehicle. But in his distraction the wounded woman on the ground finally lined up her shot. Another single bullet, this time going through the base of his skull and out his ear. And this time the blood splatter managed to catch the frightened target, staining his expensive clothes.

"Pezzo di merda," Isabella spoke with a chuckle as she picked herself up off the ground. Jonny's face looked on shocked that she could simply get up like that. He threw his phone on the ground and began to run now. But he only made it a few steps before Isabella caught up and grabbed him by his shoulder, stopping him dead in his tracks. As she forced him to face her she shoved the barrel of her pistol in his open mouth. "Get in the car." The back door to the limousine opened from the inside and Isabella ungracefully tossed him inside. She casually placed the pistol back in the thigh holster before rubbing her finger over the hole in her chest. After a full second the bullet popped out, landing in her palm as the skin where the wound had been was now completely healed. The only downside was that there was now two holes in her dress. And some blood but a good wash would've gotten that out anyways.

Now she stepped into the limousine, closing the door behind herself as the driver peeled out and away from the scene. Inside the car the two men held Jonny's arms and kept him pinned to the seat. Isabella sat down opposite Jonny, crossing her legs and giving him a smile. "Hello," she greeted, placing her hands on her knee. "My name is Isabella. You are Jonny, no? I want to tell you three things." The friendly smile on her face turned into a twisted, evil grin. "First, you are going to die. Second, I am going to make it painful. Third, it will be humiliating. Do you have any questions? No?" The man began stuttering but Isabella didn't wait for him to come up with something. She lifted her dress and withdrew the knife, brandishing it so she could see the fear in his eyes. "Boys. Gag him. We don't want him making too much noise."

---

"So boss," one of the men in the car began to ask, "how is this organization supposed to know you did the job if you don't have a way to contact them?" The woman sitting across from him smiled devilishly. She brought one of her bloody hands up to her chin, giving her subordinate a playful look. "It is easy, Angelo. We will drop him off somewhere where they can't miss him." Now the other Soldato spoke up. "There's a drop-off location?" Isabella shook her head, keeping the same smile. "No. I am making my own drop-off." The limousine pulled to a halt, stopping for the red light. "Look out the window." The two Soldatos did as they were told. "Do you know where we are?"

With that, Isabella's face turned serious as she pointed to the shirtless corpse on the floor. "Throw him out as soon as the light turns green." The men quickly got up from their seats and moved the body close to the door, positioning themselves to eject it at the perfect opportunity. "Are you sure this is a good idea Ms. De Santa?" The Italian woman gave the man a glare. "It is." The car began to move now, so the men opened the door and quickly heaved the body out. Once Jonny was clear of the exit, they closed the limousine door and the vehicle continued on like nothing happened.

It only took a second or two before someone noticed the bloody body that was face-up on the sidewalk. After all, it doesn't take long for someone in the large crowd that is Times Square to notice something as panic-inducing as that. The young man's body had no shirt and looked up to the sky lifelessly. The crowd nearby backed up, making it even easier for others to notice the corpse amid the panic and screaming. There was a puncture wound between each rib on both sides of his torso as well as several gashes along his abdomen. But the most noticeable wound was on the center of his chest. The large letters of D and S were carved deeply into his chest.

As the limousine got away, Isabella giggled to herself, putting her head in the palm of her hand as the elbow rested against her knee. "They will know within a few minutes," Isabella whispered, before giggling once again. The two Soldatos looked at each other, a clear expression of concern on both their faces, before looking back at their boss. "If you say so." Isabella sat upright, removing her hand from her face. There was now blood on her cheek but she didn't seem to notice. "Look what the bastards did to my dress," Isabella complained, pointing to the hole in her midsection and then the bloody hole in her chest. "Do you know how much this cost me? Four thousand Euros. You can't even buy this in America. Oh, and tonight I will send one of you back to the Cosmos. I left some of my clothes in that room."
 
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The warehouse

As Cat entered the warehouse the door shut behind her. In front of her was the interior of the large building, it was nothing out the ordinary one would find in a warehouse. Loading crates by the sides and the corners of the room, bright ceiling lights illuminating the whole inside. The only unusual site was a single wooden chair in the exact middle of the warehouse, a figure sat in the chair, dressed in a fancy black pinstripped suit, a masquerade mask on their face, a red rug underneath the chair. It had to be the mysterious Jack, fit the descriptions of him to a dot, down to the mask he was reported as always wearing. The man didn't move an inch as Cat entered, instead a voice could be heard emitting from him.

"Welcome, Ms. Frost, or should I say 'Cat'. It's a pleasure to finally meet you, I've heard so much about you." Jack said, then rose out of his seat, clenching a black walking cane in his left hand, a large diamond topping it off. He slowly approached Cat, his walk elegant.

"I was not told of your beauty however, but I should introduce myself properly," He said, tapping his cane against the concrete floor once. "I am Jack, I'm sure you've heard of me, they like to speak much of me, often hurtful lies." He said, adding a bow as he said his name. At this closeness a patch could be seen on the breast pocket of his suit, it was the logo of the Collective.

"You're the first initiate to arrive here, first one to finish their test." Jack said, rubbing his chin with his free hand. He was about to continue speaking when a sound could be heard. High heels clanking against the floor, then the source of the sound appeared, in the form of a strikingly beautiful woman, walking past a crate to the right of the two already in the room. She was dressed in a little red dress that didn't leave much to the imagination, her form was topped by makeup and perfectly done black hair.

"Her test was simple, anyone with a semblance of intelligence could do it." The woman said, stopping near Jack and crossing her arms, glaring towards Cat.

"Come now, Mistress, she did quite remarkably. Not all of us as skilled as you, but she is quite excellent with her powers." Jack said, his voice calm but strong, Mistress rolling her eyes before speaking.

"We'll see how she does with more difficult tasks." Mistress stated, continuing her glare towards Cat.

"Yes, we will, in due time. We still must await the others arrival, I believe the Italian beauty will be the next one to make her presence known." Jack said as he turned and strolled back towards his seat in the middle of the warehouse. He then sat down, gracefully like everything else he did, and seemingly waited.

"Speak for yourself, do you think you'll fit in here with us? They say we're a terrible group, yet we know what we're doing." Mistress asked Cat, letting off the glare slightly but still looking intently at the new arrival.
Isabella's limousine

The vehicle broke away from the scene, getting away clean, the shock of the corpse still uterring around the scene as the perpetrators made their escape, nobody giving chase. The limo pulled into a side street, moving further away into the quieter part of the city. As they stopped at a red light a piece of paper landed on the windshield, right in view of the driver. He reached out and grasped it, then flipped it over to give it a glance before handing it to Isabella. The paper containing the following writing on it, in fine cursive of course. Below the letter was an address.

Well done, though quite brutal by my standards, it still accomplished the deed. Your final piece of the initiation puzzle is to follow these directions to a warehouse at the end of the street. You are to enter the warehouse alone. You will find a playing card attached to this, show that to the front guard and he will let enter. We are eager to finally meet you.
- J.​
The coffee shop

"We can't stay huddled in here like sitting ducks forever, we need a way out."

"Chill out, I have a plan."

The chatter between the criminals could be heard by the hostages who were still huddled in the middle of the shop, some crying, others visibly shaking. Outside of the shop, more policemen had arrived, three more cars, each with officers who followed suite of the ones already there, drawing guns and ducking behind their vehicles. Above them, out of view of the criminals, Phoenix slowly flew, descending down towards the roof of the building where Penumbra was standing, watching the scene unfold.

"You were out before I even announced it." Phoenix said with a smile as he landed, walking towards his fellow hero.

"I was on it the moment the chatter on the police radio picked up. I'm just waiting for a moment to drop in. Almost there." Penumbra said back, now crouching down.

"Waiting for a moment to save the day?"

"Id you want to say it that way."

"Well wait until Alice and some of the new recruits show up to see how we do things."

"They better not take too long." Penumbra said back, calming his nerves as Phoenix crossed his arms next to him, looking over the readying cops.​
 
V looks around the room, he gets the feeling that he should be worried, but since he trusts himself so much he can't. His eery green eyes bore into the faces of the other two at the table, and the eyes of the masked man when he enters. When the masked figure say Russian Roulette he grins widely and tries to contain the grin, but is unable to. When the first man doesn't get it, he picks up the revolver, and places it to his skull. He snaps his fingers and then, with a wink to the masked man, he pulls the trigger, the hammer falls, but does not discharge a round. He sets it back down and points at the man who has yet to try his luck, cocking his thumb as if the hammer of a gun, he childishly pretends to shoot the man with his finger. "Pew, not your lucky day guys." The gun is pushed over to the next man, who picks it up, and with as much flair as the first guy, doesn't die. V chuckles and nods, watching the first man pick it. He shakes his head and looks down as the man puts it to his head, pulls the trigger, and gets shot in the skull.
 
The corpse of the first dead man flails against the chair, blood bounding out of the gruesome head wound from where the bullet impacted and exited. The masked man didn't even flinch when the scene occurred, but the other man did, almost screaming in surprise, his eyes wide open with surprise.

The revolver was scooped off the table by the man seemingly conducting all of this, his eyes glaring at V as he slides another shot into the revolver before spinning it and pulling the hammer back. Instead of handing or placing the gun in front of V though, he levels it by his own hand at V's head. Apparently V angered the man with his antics. Though, to the guy's displeasure, as he squeezes the trigger the bullet does not blast out.

With a sigh the masked man moves over and places it in front of the other survivor, this one still shaking from shock of seeing someone's brains get blown out of their skull. He nervously picks up the gun, points it at his own head, gulps and blinks, then squeezes the trigger, the bullet slamming out into the man's skull, causing blood to spray out as a result. The gun drops from the now dead body, clanging against the floor with a bang.

"You lucky bastard." The masked man says to V, an unhappy tone in his voice as he crosses his arms, seemingly waiting for something.

"Well done. You may exit the room, you've made it in, recruit." A male voice says from an intercom in the room, no real emotion in the voice as V is nudged out of his seat by the masked man, then pushed out the door into a large warehouse center room, a chair in the middle with a masked man seated in it.

"Congratulations, we have our second new member. Welcome, I am Jack." The man in the chair says, his voice friendly and calming, tapping his cane he grasps in his left hand against the floor for no real reason. Two others, both women are nearby, one, an alarmingly beautiful woman dressed in a tight dress, the other in more casual clothing.

"And you can call me Mistress." The woman says, her voice lusty and calming as she approaches V. She places a hand on his arm, running her fingers across the skin as she continues speaking.

"Your powers intrigue me, I may have some use for them later." She says, a grin coming to her face as she turns and walks back towards the seated Jack, taking her place standing right next to him.

"Yes, he will fit in here nicely, both of you will." Jack says, looking with masked eyes at V then Cat.
 
Upon receiving the letter, Isabella held up the playing card and inspected it. She leaned forward and handed the letter to the driver through the window separating the cab and the rest of the limousine. "Portami lì," she told the driver in her native language. He took the paper and looked at the address. "Sure thing boss," he replied, placing the paper on top of the dashboard. The window between them rolled up again and Isabella looked at the two Soldatos sitting with her in the back. "I told you." A victorious smirk appeared on her lips as she crossed her legs and went back to examining the holes in her dress. The two men seemed more irritated than anything else, but they knew they had to listen to her.

Not only was she their boss' sister but she was extremely violent too. The blood on the floor and on the leather seats of the limousine testified that, but they knew she could turn on them at any time. They heard the story about how her father tried to have her killed. As far as they knew, she was immortal. The De Santa Mafia used to be a serious business organization, but ever since Isabella killed Vincent De Santa it hasn't been the same. Respect doesn't work like it once did and all the other gangs and families look at the DSM like they are Neanderthals. Granted most of them also fear the De Santa family.

"I think I might change before we go," Isabella suddenly spoke up. She turned to the two Soldatos and pointed at the hole over her breast. "Do you think this is unfitting?" The young man's irritation slipped from his grasp and he spoke the words before he could stop himself. "Does it matter?" A silence took the car as he realized his mistake. He put his hands up in a position of surrender right as the barrel of the pistol entered his mouth. "You ask me if it matters?" Isabella spoke, her voice and expression proving how livid she was. She pushed the gun further into his mouth, pressing his head against the window of the car and causing him more pain. The Soldato sitting next to him scooted away, trying to ensure his own safety.

There was a moment of intense silence before the Italian woman removed the gun from his mouth and sat back down. "I suppose it doesn't matter too much," she conferred, holstering the pistol under her dress again. The man that was almost her victim let out a sigh of relief, deciding that he wasn't going to speak for the rest of the day. For his own safety. The rest of the drive was rather uneventful, to the pleasure of everyone in the car but Isabella. After parking at the end of the street Isabella spoke to the driver. "Wait here." She stepped out of the limousine and took a look around. It appeared there was nobody on the street itself, which was a good thing. She was still quite the bloody mess, particularly her hands, so being spotted in such a state would raise suspicion. Then again, she was also vastly overdressed for this part of town so she was already suspicious enough.

Isabella strutted her way down the street, constantly looking around to be sure she wasn't being ambushed. Her high-heels made enough noise to signify her presence as it was so she wanted to see if she could find anyone hiding. The mild effort bore no fruit and Isabella found herself at the warehouse in no time. There were two armed men standing guard at the entrance. A devilish smile formed as she approached them. "Are you looking for this?" Isabella spoke once she reached them, using a surprisingly seductive voice to go with her thick accent. Then again it probably came across as somewhat creepy considering she looked like she just killed someone with extreme prejudice. Which isn't far from the truth. She stuck her hand in her bra and withdrew the playing card, notably with some blood stained onto it from when she was holding it before, and then proceeded to hand it to the nearest guard.
 
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V smiled at the masked man's apparently angry actions, and lets himself be led out. He sees Jack first of course, because Jack draws his attention immediately by speaking. "Thank you... I suspect you already know my name." He tries not to think of the two dead men in the room behind him. It's easy to change his focus when he notices Mistress, "Hullo." He fidgets a little at the contact, just a twitch of his arm. Her last comment causes him to tilt his head.

"Were those other men, also recruits?" He asks looking at Jack's mask, with his green eyes. He doesn't really wait for an answer, "They must not have been promising, to be put in a test against me." He smiles again and looks at Cat, dipping his head in acknowledgment.

V looks at the first masked man, "Or were those guys supposed to live?"
 
"Go right in." The guard replies with a nod to Isabella as he graps the card out of her hand, then with his free hand he raises it, turning backwards, signaling for the front gate to open so that the newest recruit could enter the factory.

Meanwhile, inside the factory Jack sat silent for a second, seemingly mulling over V's questions. He was about to speak when Mistress spoke first.

"Does it matter? That is what was decided and you passed with flying colors." She said, her voice as usual sultry and confident as she looked at V before glancing at Jack who simply nodded, not saying a word, Mistress coming up with a satisfying reply. There was a momentary silence in the warehouse, no one speaking. This silence was broken by the noise of doors being pushed open and Isabella entering. Jack stared at Mistress for a moment, giving her a strange look, likely they both had information about Isabella and figured it would be best not to anger her. So, Mistress stayed silent a Jack popped out of his seat, approaching Isabella, his cane tapping along the floor with every single stride he took.

"Ah, we've been expecting you, first off let me say it's always a pleasure to make the acquaintance of such a beautiful, strong woman," Jack said, adding a bow. "You may call me Jack." He said, then paced back to his chair, taking a seat once more.

"To my left is Mistress, one of our senior members. The others in this room are new members like you, they are V and Cat. We have more allies, but they are not here currently, I'm sure you will make their acquaintance later." He added, looking with masked eyes at Isabella, his true expression hidden by the mask.
 
Sofia Julian // Wild // Syndicate

Sofia had been dozing in the library when Alice entered with the newbies, and when the alarm went off. Honestly, she wasn't that interested in going to see the Syndicate 'first hand', because she'd already seen some Syndicate members in action. However, she'd been wandering around the complex for the entire day and had yet to find anything interesting to do, and who knew? Maybe something cool would happen if she tagged along.

As she approached the area where the vans were parked, Sofia briefly wondered if Alice would stop her from coming. Technically, she had been talking to the new recruits, but she had said anyone, and Sofia was someone, therefore she was anyone by default.

Upon reaching the van, Sofia flung herself inside and situated herself next to one of the newbies that she had noticed earlier, a young man with blonde hair who had his eyes closed. Sofia stared at him for a minute before smirking wickedly. She breathed in through her nose, before thinking of the ugliest animal that she had ever turned into and soon instead of a girl, she was a turkey. She wished that she'd come in contact with an uglier beast, but at the moment, a turkey was the ugliest thing that she had seen and touched before, plus they made creepy noises.

Leaning forward slowly, Sofia inched forward until her beak was near the man's ear and then she let loose with a loud, and rapid gurgling sound that turkeys were so known for. Sofia quickly reverted back to her human form and flung herself into the seat furthest from the man and put on her best 'Wasn't me' smile.
 
Meta/Syndicate

Meta was defiantly enjoying his relaxing stays side the van. The soothing hum of the vehicle was enough to put him into a half slept state. He had barley noticed the other body that had entered the van, but he wasn't really concerned about that, they were all trustworthy "Heroes" here. meta could not help but wonder when they would leave for the crime. If there was a crime, he would have assumed that the Syndicate could have been the first there, even before the police maybe. Unfortunately, the heroes were stuck Ina black van waiting for the other members to get in the damn car, but fortunately for him, he was not really in a hurry. Suddenly, Meta was awoken from his half-sleep state by some weird scream the was directed into his ear. Meta sat up quickly and looked around the van sleepily, his ears still buzzing from the noise. he noticed a small African American woman at the back of the van, smiling up at him as if she did not do it. Meta gave her a look that said, what the hell, and he went back to his original position, he had already lost interest in the situation at hand.
 
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