Alexander Summers - San Antonio, Texas

Collab with CloudyBlueDay


Alex’s difficulty wasn’t because he couldn’t find the fire extinguisher. That was quite easy to find. No, what took him so long after finding the fire extinguisher was taking a moment to decide how best to deal with the giant fire monster.

“Probably won’t go down quickly…and it probably just produces flames from its own body…,” he mumbled, frowning as he looked back up the short hall he came down, where the fire beast probably still was. What would be worrying is that if he didn’t use enough or couldn’t deploy enough foam in a single instance, then the fire beast was likely to just become more aggravated, replenish its flames through willpower or some other silly method, and come after him, the source of his aggravation.

“It’s a shame there’s no foam bomb here,” he thought, glancing at the fire extinguisher again with a frown. “Well, if nothing else, it can probably be used to just put out small fires in our way…”


Hearing footsteps down the hall, he glanced up to see the blue-haired girl from before. “Am I getting my phone back?” he said, still standing idly next to the fire extinguisher.


“No, dumbass.” Sapphire scoffed, charging towards him. “But if it makes you feel any better, if we make it out alive, I’ll buy you a new one.” Her eyes glared daggers and her stance was tall and imposing. She held the staff in her hand, the long metal rod threatening a dangerous outcome. Or perhaps one to protect Alex.


“Ditch the fire extinguisher. It won’t do any good. We need to go.”


Alex frowned as he glanced at the fire extinguisher. “You never know,” he said calmly, noting the girl’s stance. Was she the leader? Though, he could probably try discern that later.

That, and there were plenty of other uses that a fire extinguisher had past fighting fires. It was a handing propellant or stunner if used well. Or just used to bash on someone’s head. Provided it didn’t weigh him down, he could probably find some other use for it. “Before that, mind saying where we’re going? Not to be rude, but pardon me for not trusting the first blue haired girl I meet when a fire monster attacks.”


“Where we’re going?” Sapphire echoed with a snort, her tone filled with ridicule. “We’re going the fuck away, idiot. Out of the goddamn burning building.” She reached out and shoved him away from the wall where he had found the fire extinguisher, a sort of herding push, not very strong but enough to make Alex move from his place.


Alex sighed as he let himself be pushed. His own reasoning had already made it so that the fire extinguisher may not help. Although…

“So what’s the plan when the giant fire beast follows everyone outside? What about collateral damage?” he asked as she pushed him forward. “Have you called the fire department? Fire alarm hasn’t gone off, and they’re probably much more well equipped to take on a fire beast, even if they’re surprised at first.”


“I can assure you my team is much more well equipped to take on this beast. More than you could ever know.” Her brows were furrowed and she spoke with conviction; for all the jeering she threw at the two other metas who seemed to be aligned with her, she meant what she said. “No collateral damage. The fire beast is not going to leave this mall. And that is why we need to get out.”


She stopped and looked around. “If I remember correctly.. The leftmost staircase should be clear.”


Alex nodded as they came back to the food court. “And if it isn’t clear?” he asked, pausing for a brief moment as he watched the fire beast fighting with…well whatever it was. “…you sure you guys have this under control?” he asked, glancing to the blue-haired girl.


This question made the blue-haired girl pause. She stopped, mouth open, a response well on it’s way, but seemingly delayed. A flicker of doubt flashed across her gaze. Then, anger. And after that, nothing but absolute determination.


“Positively.”
 
The sinister sound of fried roof-tiles belayed the sudden eruption of smoldering debris by a two-second margin, and though Austin looked up just in time to see a shower of dazzling, fire-laden linoleum come racing towards him he could not move. At least, he knew he wouldn't have anywhere to go in the three seconds he estimated he would have. Oddly enough, he didn't yell, panic, or even so much as attempt to move. Whether it was because he was petrified by fear, or simply resigned to his fate, Austin could only shut his eyes.

It was to his great surprise then that nothing seemed to happen, and instead he heard a different sound--that of the same debris harmlessly crumbling off of some imminent force. When his eyes re-opened, he caught the last second of the shimmering, blue field before is blinked back out of existence. Gripped with a sudden mixture of relief, and dismay, Austin quickly turned to his savior's voice--his eyes betraying a forlorn look of concern.

“You okay?” She asked.

Austin blinked a moment, before managing to croak, "I certainly am now."

“Koa!”

A couple minutes ago he would've been surprised to see the Big Belly's employee, but the present crisis had involved him a such a whirlwind of confusion that--in that moment--it seemed like the most normal thing in the world to him that all the supers except him seemed to be in affiliation. Austin's survival instinct--coupled with the acrid aftertaste of ash gathering in his mouth--urged him that their time was almost up. Either they were leaving, or they weren't.

Austin's focus shifted back to their conversation, his ears picking up both girls' names. The boy made a mental note to thank Koa properly on the other side if he got the chance, though knowing himself, that would be a whole other challenge in and of itself. Austin's focus re-affixed itself to their banter, and he couldn't help but wonder what exactly this Sapphire girl could do to stop the cataclysmic brawl in front of him.

Don't even have to get close? Goddamn...

“No, Sapphire. But I’m not letting you get in the middle of that.” Austin had to agree with Makoa, and felt himself shrink a little at the familiar sight of Sapphire's narrowed gaze. “Fine. We’ll wait. But the smoke’s gonna get bad and we haven’t got much time left. I’m going after the guy who’s phone Archer broke.” Austin tried his best to clear his raspy throat, and would've spoken up had Makoa not done so first.

“So, my earlier question,” She said, facing Austin once more, “Are you okay, and are you prepared to get out of here before the monsters just about kill each other?”

Austin glanced around the room, his eyes lingering on the toothy beast a moment, before returning to Makoa's own gaze. It was then he recognized her to be one of the other food-court attendees, which only worsened his heightened state of total bewilderment. His eyes seemed to sharpen, and where before he was nervously fidgeting under the stress of the situation, Austin found his footing.

"I'm more than fine. Better than most. I want to get out of here, but I don't want to leave that girl behind," Austin thumbed over his shoulder in the direction of the clashing combatants. "If you're trying to get people out of here," Austin paused for a moment, and raised a hand into the air. "I can help. If you're going to evacuate, I can take care of the smoke to buy you time." He nervously bit at the corner of his lower lip, before quickly adding, "I-It's the least I can do."

With that, Austin's irises began to glow a muted peach color, and the smokey haze around both he and Makoa dispersed from their immediate surroundings, the effect almost immediately relieving his otherwise battered respiratory system. The smoke-free bubble seemed to hold back the roasted particulate matter by nearly two feet from where he stood, proving that--though he could keep them breathing--he certainly wasn't capable of shepherding a large group all at once.

At least, he had never had to try for much larger.

@CloudyBlueDay
 
Last edited:
  • Bucket of Rainbows
Reactions: CloudyBlueDay
.
When she was seven, Dakota was bit by her neighbor’s dog. Clean through her left hand. The incident had been, to date, the most frightening experience of her life. It hadn't put her off dogs… and eventually even the scars healed, but she still remembered the moment those teeth snapped down on her and the panic at seeing those holes in her hand, gushing blood and throbbing. And yet, as traumatic as all that was, it seemed to pale in comparison to the current circumstances.

Fear gripped her with vice like fury, as she and London bounced about the truck bed, holding on for dear life. Despite knowing about her invulnerability, she felt each jostle, each hit against the side of the bed, the sensation vibrating through her, from her toes to her teeth. She had only tested her abilities as far as she dared… but could she survive a crash? Being thrown? And what about the others? Could they outrun the vans? Would it matter? How had the men found them? How had they known? Was it her fault…? She hadn't meant to use her powers… not really. Was she responsible for bringing this trouble down on them?

Her vision blurred from tears and the rushing wind, as she looked behind them, to the vans, closing in on them. Mason called out, but she was afraid to open her mouth… afraid of what might come out. Gripping the side of the bed, she squeezed her eyes shut, and forcing back clump, cloying and tight against her throat, she called back, “They're still coming! Two more!”
 
Run, Rabbit, Run
~ Millennium City ~
by @Shizuochan, @CloudyBlueDay and @Red Thunder

“The police?” It had been a long time since Cassia had heard that word spoken with even the slightest hint of a positive connotation. “I don’t do well in police custody. Neither do you really, since you’re poor and all. Not to be presumptuous or-.”

The girl stopped her diatribe, frowning as she recalled the boy’s mother and father, who had thrown themselves headlong into the unknown. They deserved to be found, and saved, soon rather than later. “Alright, fair enough, to the station then. Let’s... not bring up the golden circles, and maybe go a bit lighter on the weird labcoats thing. And, also…”

Cassia’s hands were slick with residual wetness - perhaps from her power, perhaps from sweat - nonetheless it extricated her from Patrick’s grasp. “Handholding’s not really my thing, really. No offense, of course, your hand is perfectly hand.”

“Er, aye.” Patrick gave a small smile, his determination to go interrupted by his companion’s reluctance. He frowned, wiping his palm on his pant leg, before turning to once more undertake the path on which he'd started them. “‘Poor’ doesnae have aught to do with it. This was an assaul’, and neither of us can do anythin’ about it ourselves. But tha police can.”

Tommy wasn't going to be happy, that was for sure. Especially as angry as he'd seemed this particular night at the law. It'd always struck Paddy as somewhat disingenuous; while not a habitual troublemaker, Tommy O’Malley didn't care a bit about the rules. If there was something he wanted to do, say, smash in a guy’s face who'd made some offhand offensive remark about his homeland, he was going to do it. He just didn't manage the consequences very well.

His father’s Irish anger was a risk Patrick was willing to take. If it meant that Tommy and Margery were safe, it-

He froze. The white van had driven past on the roadway some twenty yards off, and Patrick had paid no mind. Only when it rolled backwards at a slow, contemplative pace did it catch his attention.

“Cassia…” he warned, voice taut in fear. “We gotta go!”

Cassia’s steely survivalist instinct found itself compromised by exhaustion, a lingering hunger and disbelief. “Good God, a white van? This can’t be serious.” For a moment, she felt tempted to raise her arm towards the ominous vehicle, as if she could will all the rivers and oceans of the world to tear it asunder.

When the reality of it all dawned on her, however, she relented. “Run!”

and don’t hold my hand because you’ll get us killed.

Trusting Patrick to have enough instinct and wit about him to turn heel and follow, Cassia began a mad dash towards the mounds of dirt they had come from. There had been a fence, she vaguely recalled. Somewhere along the way there was a fence, and unless vans could sprout arms and hands and digits, it was their best bet.

Not that it was a very good bet, mind you; Cassia was tired. She began to feel the charcoal-sensation pervading her lungs as she called back behind her, “If you could do the… golden circle thing… would feel real blessed…!”

Patrick was already working on it. It'd been the obvious thought to have, the clear solution. The pair had disappeared suddenly and completely from his apartment, giving no sign of where they'd have gone. Yet here they were, their steps dogged by these people. Whomever they were. Whatever they wanted.

It can't be good, that's for aye, he found himself musing absentmindedly. His feet pounded the dirt in pursuit of Cassia, his athletic endurance keeping pace with her hungry frame easily. The golden circle, the...Gate, had appeared when he'd thought of the old rugby field. Brow furrowing, he tried to picture another familiar location: Carl’s hotdog stand, where it normally sat on the corner of 5th and Rivers Avenue. A steady if vague picture in his mind, he tried focusing a Gate into that location. Sharp pain lanced through his brain, the sudden migraine blinding him briefly and causing him to stumble. No, he grumbled to himself as he found his balance again. That didn't work. Maybe it needs to be clearer. Less...variable. Like the rugby field had been.

Wildly he glanced around, seeking some place out of reach that he could picture immediately in his mind. There! An old water tower, aged wood gray, sat atop an abandoned office building. He focused, and as easily as blinking, a golden Gate shimmered to life on the tower’s side, perhaps some ten feet up from the rooftop. Before Cassia was as suddenly its brother, cheerfully shining in its promise of freedom.

“C’mon!” the Irishman bellowed, and ignoring her earlier and continued protests, he sped ahead, snatched her wrist in a tight grasp, and ran through the Gate.

Please don’t hold my-.”

Having indignantly turned towards the Irishman, she had seemingly failed to notice the portal ahead of her. The dirt, soot and asphalt of the half-paved grounds turned to the greying-blue of the sky, but much too suddenly. She had instinctively expected to remain on level ground, but found her feet on open air. Protest turned into the beginnings of a scream.

Ten feet seems like such a light prospect, until you realise would could happen if you landed the wrong way; at best, you’d eat dirt, a sprain seemed a middling outcome, or worst of all you could break a leg. To Cassia’s great fortune, instinct and muscle memory overrode the slow burn of realisations as she nimbly broke into a roll, dispersing the sudden force of the landing over her entire body.

Graceful in the most graceless way possible, Cassia found herself atop the building (and her hand had been pried free as well!) Her gaze searched for Patrick’s, both bemused and questioning. “Thank God, nailed it.”

Patrick had similarly hit the rooftop in a roll, though with a bit less dexterity. He managed to end sitting up, and was rubbing a few scrapes gingerly. Above them, the Gate on the tower had vanished, the shock of impact killing any focus needed to hold it open. His eyes met his companion’s, and he smiled in acknowledgment of both of their successes.

“Glad tah hear it.”

Giving his arms a bit of a stretch and swing to assure himself of their continued functionality, Paddy stood up and cautiously made his way to the rooftop edge. A small concrete wall followed the building’s frame, giving it definition while still allowing a sightseer to enjoy the view. From the ground, it had obscured Patrick’s view of the roof proper, which is why he'd placed the Gate where he had; it was the lowest point he could see. As it was, it reached up to his belt line, and slowly he leaned against it to peer over.

The building was several levels high; not quite a “high rise” skyscraper, it nevertheless was easily composed of between a score and two dozen stories. Far below, Patrick could still see the van in the street. Sighing, he sat back down and leaned against the wall.

“Well, shite.” He mussed his short hair in frustration. “Now wha’?”

“We find a way down, I suppose. Get our bearings, find the station.” She nodded at the door-installation nearabouts the center of the roof, “Stairs, probably. That’s the first step down, no pun intended.”

She picked herself up and approached the door, not bothering to help her companion out in that regard; he was a big boy, right? Perhaps expecting some reprieve from the drab asphalt, she found herself disappointed by the viciously sterile grey of the building’s plaster walls. The stair-steps were of an antiquated stony sort, and the smell of musk pervaded it. “Of course, if you wanted to practice a bit, you could circle us out of here - save us the steps. No pressure, of course - would hate to make you think I’m exploiting you.”

Curious, she allowed herself to peer through a door-window two flights of stairs down. Near-emptiness greeted her, with trace remnants of torn down cubicle walls dotting the floor. “I’m more used to places like these from the outside. The ghosts of buildings, like spectres... of musky walls and ripped-up plaster. A lot more of these now…”

She let the spoken thoughts linger in the air as she returned to Patrick’s side.

“Didnae take long for tah meteor to have an affect on things, did it?”

Paddy rested his head against the concrete. Where to go? What to do? He'd mentioned the police, and Cassia seemed to be acting on the decision to go. But what after? He couldn't go home; the Labcoats would definitely be watching his apartment. And who knew what had happened to his parents? The fools below might, but he wasn't about to try to get one up with him, not when he'd have to weed one out from whatever crowd was packed in the vehicle.

The vehicle. Eyebrows furrowed, Paddy glanced back over the wall. Curiosity clawed at his brain; he had to know who was in there.

“Not ye’, Cass. Gotta see wha’ tah bastards in tah van do. They had to’ve done summat wit me folks, an’ one of ‘em will know wha’.”

Cassia’s visage remained stony for but a moment, before she realised the implication of what Patrick was saying. Her upbringing didn’t exactly allow for her to be much of a cinephile, but this was a plot hook she recognised in every dollar-bin action thriller. “I’m going to be really disappointed if you do something silly. I think if you squander a God-given new lease on not being forcefully abducted, you go to Hell when you die.”

Still, she was curious in spite of herself. “Just kidding. Can you get a look in?”
 
Millenium City, New YorkEvan Rowell
His head down, Evan barreled away from the redhead, only to be stopped again almost at once. She was in front of him!? He cursed under his breath as she snagged him by the collar, tensing up when faced with the obsidian-tinged rupture in space and time. Evan didn't fight the girl as she spoke, harsh and commanding, trying to think of what to do. He winced when she leaned in closer, expecting to hear something venomous and biting. But those words never came.
“Punch me in the face.” She whispered, desperately.
“Punch me in the face and I’ll hold them off as long as I can. Then you run, like hell.”
For a moment, Evan couldn't respond. His mouth moved, open and shut, but no sound came forth. Their eyes met for a second, and Evan saw... was it fear? He swallowed hard, nodding so slightly that it would be difficult to notice by anyone else.

"I'm sorry," Evan whispered, his voice cracking. And then, from behind his back, his left fist came up to connect with the redhead's cheek, in a blow that perhaps wasn't as hard as it seemed. In the next instant, Evan steeled himself to run, ready for whatever would happen next.​
 
Smoke.
Collab with @CloudyBlueDay

Despite Archer's warning, Joan still let out a tiny yelp as they took off. She had just enough time to tighten her grip, be briefly overwhelmed with adrenaline, and realize that this was more exciting than terriifying...

And then they were stationary again, standing in the security room, Archer's words blurring together. She opened her mouth to ask him to repeat that, but he realized he was speaking too quickly before she could say anything, and he corrected himself quickly. When he asked what turned on the sprinklers, she looked at the panel.

"Ah, crap. Um..." She glanced at the monitors and then the panel again. "Why do they need so many switches and crap in the first place?" she mumbled under her breath. She moved forward to examine the panel more closely, trying to see if there were any labels of any sort or any indicator of what each lever or button was supposed to do.

"You said something about blueprints before we took off. Does that include any information on the security system here?" She glanced over her shoulder as she talked. "It might be helpful if we can at least figure out why there are so many of these in the first place, too..."

A guilty look came upon Archer's face. "Uhm," He started, and scratched his head, brows furrowed in deep thought. "I... don't have the best memory." He stepped over to the control panel, staring at it with utmost concentration, as if squinting at the thing would reveal it's purpose.

"Yeah, er. I got no clue. This wasn't really part of the plan." His frown was apparent as he turned back to Joan. "How about I press all of 'em and see what happens?" A devillish spark rose in his eye.

"Great," Joan murmured, moving to the side slightly as Archer came to investigate the panel. "Well, nobody can be expected to remember everything, so..." She paused for a moment before adding with a cautious tone, "Out of curiosity, what was part of the plan? Unless you can't tell me that or whatever." The last sentence came out faster, and she quickly turned back to the panel, hoping that that had been an okay question to ask.

"Umm...If you do that, you have no idea what might happen, and I'm not sure if you would be able to reverse it or not." Then again, it's not like we have any better ideas yet. She glanced at the room setup again, mumbling, "This is a single person setup, so how is one guy supposed to memorize what each of these does? I wonder..." She began looking around to see if there was some kind of instruction booklet, manual, or even a personal notebook. Anything that might have the functions of the various switches written down.

"What was part of the plan?" Archer echoed. "Not to go to a tiny security room and leave my teammates behind." He muttered, bending down to look beneath the desk and in any other crevice of the room. In a small drawer beneath the control panel, accessible to Joan, there lay a small book labeled "Control Manual".

"Drawer?" Archer asked, pointing at it for Joan to open. "Let's finish this up fast. I can't say in how long this room will go up in flames but... it can't be far off."

Joan glanced at him briefly but didn't press the issue, instead continuing her search. Hopefully, after the fire person was dealt with, she could get some answers, but until then...Best to focus on staying alive.

Archer pointed out a drawer she had missed, and she nodded and yanked it open. "Jackpot!" She lifted the manual out and, after pausing for a moment to think, passed it to Archer. "You can get any relevant info from there much faster than I can, right?" That's how it works with comics and telivision and stuff, anyway...

Archer seemed to balk at the idea of the manual being handed to him. He leaned away from it, nose turned upwards in disgust. "I unno. I might miss something. I should really go check on the others --" He turned around and faced the door, ignoring her outrestched hand, and grabbed the handle.

"Ack!" He shouted, pulling his hand back almost immediately. It was red and pulsing. Smoke crept into the room through the crack beneath the door. Archer's eyes widened in horror. "ShitshitshitshitSHIT, we gotta turn on the sprinklers fuckin' PRONTO. GIMMETHEBOOK-" He yelped, snatching it from her hands and flipping through it at light speed.

When Archer backed away from the book, Joan looked at him in confusion. "Might miss something? Well, you're less likely to miss something than I am, aren't you...?" He turned to leave, and she felt a wave of panic. "Wait, don't lea-"

Suddenly, Archer had burned his hand and grabbed the book, and she glanced down at the smoke. "Shit, not good not good not good..." She yanked her jacket off and stuffed it in the door crack, doing her best to suppress a coughing fit as she got a faceful of smoke.

"Hurry up!" she yelled. A moment afterward, she realized that that was probably unnecessary and unhelpful. Just shut up and keep an eye on the smoke, she thought to herself as she stood back up to avoid getting more smoke in her face.

"I'm trying!" Archer shouted back, hacking up his lungs momentarily after. His eyes were watering, his throat burning and hand throbbing, but he powered through and continued to flip through the manual. "Uh -- ah -- r-red lever!" He exclaimed, pointing at the control panel. He squinted at the page again. "NO NO NOT THE RED LEVER! BLUE LEVER SORRY!" He tried to fan the smoke away with the manual, coughing into his shoulder, eyes squeezed shut.

Joan whipped around, one arm over her mouth and nose, and reached for the control panel, waving the smoke aside as she reached. Despite the meager defense her jacket provided, the smoke was coming in fast enough to obscure her vision. Her hand closed around the red lever as Archer corrected himself, and with a sideways glance at him, she let go of the lever and grabbed the blue lever, yanking it down as hard as she could.

Once the lever had been pulled, she yanked her jacket out of the crack, ignoring how quickly it had gotten uncomfortably warm. Using it to protect her hand, she grabbed the doorknob and tried to turn it. It wouldn't budge.

"The-the door's stuck or something!!" She backed up, holding her jacket as close to her face as she could without burning herself.

"We're fucked." Archer declared between coughs. His voice was a hoarse rasp and he slid to the ground, the hand that was not burnt going up to his earpiece. "S-S-Sapphire -- K-K-oa -- Co-ode - - R-red -- Securit...y... room...." His hand fell from the earpiece, and his eyes threatened to close.

Joan couldn't think. The room was filling with smoke way too fast to do anything about it, the damn door wouldn't open, and the room was barely big enough for the two of them anyway...She found herself dropping to her knees and clutching the jacket tightly, trying to steady herself. Instinctively, she took a deep breath, only to start coughing harder than she had been before.

How are we supposed to--

She glanced to the side as Archer began talking into his earpiece. Code red...does that mean-- Her mind froze as Archer's hand fell away from his ear, and she could see his eyelids drooping.

"Nononono, don't you fucking dare-" She burst into a coughing fit again, but regardless, she pulled herself closer to Archer and grabbed his shoulders, giving them a tug in the direction of under the desk. However, with little to no muscle on her, combined with the effects of smoke inhalation, she could barely budge him.

"Shit," she hissed. "What do I do, what do I do?"
 
  • Bucket of Rainbows
Reactions: Eru
The Monster Mash


The thing that had once been a woman skidded across the ground, long claw-like toes gripping the ground as the skin on Hang's face slowly crisped, shrank back, and fell to the floor. Black, liquid eyes zeroed in on the humanoid pillar of fire, and Hang shook her thick head. All she could think of was pain, anguish, anger...

Her hands were little more than large claws with massive pads, grown up in response to the intense heat. Her hair had burnt on one side, needle-sharp teeth clacking as the damaged ones fell out, replaced by shiny new teeth, these almost as long as a fore finger. Her mouth hung open in a pant as she circled the fiery creature.

The fire monster seemed pleased by this confrontation. It's chest heaved, and the fires that it was made of flickered with ferocity. Though facial features were hard to make out, it grinned. I'm winning, the grin announced.

The fire monster rose up on two legs, hunched over with a smile. Then it lunged.

Hang coiled, adrenaline tightening every muscle. The thing lunged towards her, and her pupils dilated, the world seeming to slow as she stared the creature down. The monstrous female could not touch it -- it was hot, hotter than anything she'd ever felt -- but inertia might do her work for her instead.

With a flick of the body, the creature threw itself to the side, exposing behind it chairs and tables that had been knocked about in the fray. A high-pitched shriek split the air as Hang gripped the leg of one of the chairs to use as a club.

Hang's clever tactic served as quite the attack. The creature made of fire lunged, only to meet furniture. Letting out an unhappy hiss, fire crackling, the chair began to melt under it's grip as it reared for another attack, bothered only by the fact that her attack upon Hang had been delayed.

Once the chair had been melted into a ball of fiery plastic, the fire monster chucked it.

Hang swatted the molten projectile with the chair she was holding, sending the mass crashing through the banister down to the first floor. Hang let the momentum carry her around, and with a whip of her tail, smacked the thing where its eyes looked to be.

With a gut-wrenching screech, the fire monster stumbled back, arms of fire going up to protect it's face. It seemed taken off guard by this attack, and once a good distance away from Hang, it seemed to pause, staring at its opponent with a piercing gaze as it recollected itself.

The monstrous creature sinuously circled around the fire creature, seeking any kind of weakness. With a great stretch of its long mouth, it hissed loudly, a long pink tongue flicking out.


The standoff would continue like this for a few moments more. The fire beast seemed to search Hang just as closely for some sort of opening. It looked cautious, for the first time.

And then the sprinklers went off.

Immediately the monster began to howl, attempting to protect it's face once more with it's own arms, but it did no good. The body of fire began to sizzle helplessly under the consistent waterfall. The form of fire seemed to be melting away.

While under normal circumstance, or perhaps abnormal circumstances in this case of events, the creature would have bolted after the thing at seeing an opening.

But there was something about the water that seemed to snap the creature out of the girl, and the girl back into the creature. With great effort, clear consciousness took root, and Hang was able to think her first thought in ten minutes.

What....what is this?

Hang was not the only one to begin to have her consciousness returned to her. The sizzling continued until the form of fire began to diminish, leaving a crumpled person in it's wake.

Thick black hair, straight and damp, fell over thin shoulders and a shivering body. The giant monster of fire had been reduced to no more than a teenage girl.

Hang stared, still in the form of a loathsome beast, panting. Slowly the facts of the fight surfaced, and her back arched with apprehension. Between her teeth, a hiss escaped as she approached the girl with lumbering steps.

Safe. This form keeps me safe. But how long could she keep it up?

The girl looked up. Her features were distinctly Asian, and a there was a gash across the bridge of her nose, perhaps where Hang's tail had struck her. She could do nothing but watch as Hang approached her. Sopping wet, she was useless. At least the supernatural sense.

The girl shakily stood, preparing to fight in any way possible.

Hang stood nearly nose to nose with the girl. The monstrous creature was easily ten feet at the shoulder, neck elongated and sloped downward to loom at the teenager before her. Claws clacked against the floor as Hang paced before the adversary, and, then, shuddered.

With a snort, the creature loped towards the food courts, lashing a tail that was quickly disintegrating. Skin and muscle seemed to slough off in reams as the creature shrank, becoming bipedal and more human like.

Before long, a completely normal Hang was crouching on the ground, holding the scraps of her expensive track suit to her half naked form, eyes screaming murder.

"Freak," she spat.

For that moment that they stood nose to nose, the girl never backed down. Her teeth were bared as if she could bite with them and her gaze was still fiery, despite being all watered down.

But her posture relaxed once the creature had stalked away, disintegrating just as she had done moments before. The fight was done.

At least my powers leave me fully clothed.

A grin came upon the girl's face at Hang's remark, and with a huff she spat back. "You and me both, bitch."

Hang huffed, though there was a smirk on her face. So-- she at least had guts. She could get behind that.

"Draw?" she asked, standing up straight and crossing her arms. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew, her abilities had not left her but nevertheless she was exhausted-- though hell would freeze before she said so.

The girl's black eyes searched her opponents. No, this wasn't an empty promise. Somehow she didn't buy it.

"Maybe. 'Till next time." She said with a hint of a smirk, before she turned and ran.

With the girl turning tail, Hang felt something leave her. With a lurch, she fell to her knees and keeled to the side.[/hr]
 
Hedieh Redding // Millennium City

At first, the man’s ability to pick the right apartment caught Hedieh off guard. But as she thought about it, if L30 was right and the person after her knew she had powers, it wasn’t that far off to assume he’d know what her powers were as well.

With options running low, maybe it was time for a change of strategy. Unlocking the door, she practically tore it open and stepped out to face her pursuer. “What?” Hedieh demanded, only partially faking her frustration. “I’m trying to watch TV.”

The man in a lab coat seemed rather startled by her harsh introduction. He blinked furiously and his fingers traveled up to his tie, which he fumbled to straighten. “E-er…” He started, but failed to finish.

“..Heideh Redding, yes?” He inquired.

“Who?” Hedieh bluffed, trying to summon a glare. A difficult task, after a lifetime of avoiding conflict and practicing patience. “What do you want?”

The scientist’s brows furrowed. “No, I am quite sure you are Heideh Redding.” He fumbled with his tie once more. “My name is Stanley Locasio. I’m a scientist with the SPME. Have you heard of us before?” He sounded quite cheerful and innocent, and now he looked as if he had not practically chased her down a long flight of stairs.

“No, I haven’t,” Hedieh said, shoulder’s slumping in defeat. “Stalkers Privately Mugging Everyone? Why do you know who I am?”

A nervous chuckle came from the man. “We’re looking for candidates to partake in an experiment for our research. You were selected as a prime candidate. May I perhaps come in?”

Hedieh looked back at the apartment that wasn’t hers. The cat pictures looked back. “The doorway is fine.” She looked back at the man. “Your sales pitch could use some work - make it less creepy - and it didn’t answer my question. That’s why you’re looking for me, not why or how you know who I am.”

“You were selected from a pool of many candidates,” The man chirped, happily ignoring Hedieh’s accusations. “Please, if you would allow me to explain.”

“Uhh-” Hedieh was out of forthright steam. She could only be deflected so many times before losing her momentum and instinctive wordlessness kicked in as a shield. “Hmm.” She stood there flustered for a second, then went intangible, starting from her feet and working her way up as she fell.

As she did, she reached out, hoping to grab onto the man’s feet as she passed to partially drag his feet in after her before letting go. She wasn’t completely sure what happened to objects that popped back in inside another object; only that she’d recently had to purchase some new wall decorations to hide a jacket trailing through the wall between her bedroom and bathroom. “Sorry,” was all she said before hopefully slipping beneath the floor.
 
MILLENNIUM CITY, NEW YORK

The read haired girl flew back as Evan’s fist collided with her jaw. Although Evan may not have hit her very hard, she made quite the show out of it. Her hand went to her jaw as she attempted to prop herself up off the ground, the portal she had held Evan close too gone the moment his fist had met its mark. A foot on her chest forced her back down with a grunt.

“Truthfully, Willow. I thought you would take this more seriously. You know Octavia will suffer due to your actions.”

Willow seethed with anger under the scientist’s boot. “Fuck you.” She spat.

He kicked, and her world went dark.

“Ivory. You’re in charge of the both of them now.”

The ice wielding girl seemed to be having the time of her life, sending cold waves after Leon without halter. The man could not outrun her icy tendrils. First, ice began to encase his feet, and quickly traveled upwards. Within seconds, Leon was no more than an icy popsicle.

She seemed to respond to the call of Ivory, turning her head with a sick little grin as she set her sights on Evan. Ice covered the soles of her boots and she skated like a hockey player in the rink across the ever growing path of ice.

“Time’s up,” She said with a hiss as she landed in front of Evan, and the ice had begun to grip his feet. The scientist who had stood over Willow now watched, lips pursed, hands behind his back. Brilliant red hair was sprawled on the pavement.

No way out.

Not even for Patrick and Cassia, who stood high above their pursuers. Three men stepped out of the vehicle. This time, they were without lab attire. They wore gear fit for full on combat, bullet proof vests and all. Each one of them held long range guns. One spoke into an earpiece.

“We’ve lost visual.”​

”I’ve got them.”​

Perhaps if they had gone anywhere else but up, they would have escaped. But a man sat crouched on the roof of a building not far from the one that held the water tower. He cocked his gun and aimed to kill, though fortunately these were not bullets.

The tranquilizing dart would catch Patrick right in the neck. An expert shot, and the man cocked the gun to take another.

No way out.

Nor for Heideh, who expertly pulled Stanley into a wonderful trap. He found his foot encased in the floor with a start, and had not a moment to reach for his gun. Though he put on a friendly face, he had not intended to talk.

Luckily, precautions has been set.

In the room she fell down into another man waited. He wore a mask over his face. A gas mask. A can had already been thrown to the ground and had begun to emit smoke.

“Lights out.” He said, his voice just as much a hiss as the smoke.

SAN ANTONIO, TEXAS

The North Star Mall seemed to fall apart in slow motion. The girl who had once been a beast comprised of fire ran, her footsteps making splashes in the pools of water forming. In her wake, footprints were charred into the marble floor. Pieces of the mall fell around her as she ran. Though fires were beginning to diminish, the North Star mall was an absolute wreck.

With Archer passed out on the floor, Joan was alone. Fire blocked access to the door that had been locked, but his distress signal had at least made it’s way to his companions. Sapphire and Makoa shared a look from halfway across the mall. Archer might be a jokester, but he didn’t fuck around when it came to code red.

“Go!” Sapphire shouted, brushing her damp hair out of her eyes.

Whipping around to face Austin, the fear in her eyes evident, Makoa gave Austin an apologetic look. “My teammate -- he -- I have to go.” A clear, sparkling blue and purple coating encased Makoa; a protective shield made out of the same thing she had protected Austin with. “My team really can’t handle shit.” She whispered. Then she ran.

Sapphire’s hand went to her earpiece. She looked at a loss as she watched Makoa disappear in the direction of the security room. “Jace -- I need an extraction. Make it look good.”

Walking through the fire with ease, Makoa's shield protected her from any harm. She could see the door to the security room, licked by the flames without stop. Shit.

"Archer?! I'm coming!" She yelled.

From the lower level three cans were thrown up. They clattered on the ground before exploding in puffs of smoke.

No way out.

“Darius is gonna kill me.” Sapphire said between coughs before collapsing onto the floor.

ELY, NEVADA

At Dakota’s warning Mason tensed further, if that was even possible. He was driving like a madman and it could only get worse from here. Two more on their tail?! He had just obliterated the same amount. How many of these people were here? What was it going to take to make them stop?

He turned to the girl in his passenger seat. Maybe if not for her, he wouldn’t be mixed up in all of this. But truthfully, he knew it was not her fault. He knew they’d tailed him just as fiercely. Maybe if he had never gone to the diner, he could have at least spared two more innocent lives.

“Crow, we-”

Mason fell silent. His foot slipped off the gas pedal. The truck, at first, continued to rush forward, but slowly began to decelerate. The vans behind them did not halter. Mason was still.

Their getaway driver had been taken out with a tranquilizing dart to the neck.

A can clattered on the ground, rolled underneath the truck and exploded into a burst of smoke.

NO WAY OUT.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk...”​


All
this is the Resolution Round™ which means, you should be aiming to wrap your situations up as best as possible. don’t have your character start something they can’t finish, because you wont get the chance! This is the last round before i move yall to chap 2 basically accept defeat. its okay. no one is gonna die i swear. just lemme take care of ur babies. dont worry!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
 
Last edited:
Patrick O'Malley
Millennium City

He'd had a later start than the others. For one reason or another, Patrick had been a metahuman late bloomer, and he simply hadn't had the two weeks with which to hone his ability, though others had clearly made good use of the time.

Rugby did Patrick wonders. It gave him peak physical prowess in many aspects, reflex speed being one of them. But as good as they were, there weren't supernatural. A small stabbing pain exploded in his neck as the tranq dart pierced his skin, and his hand raised in reaction. His eyes widened in shock, and he looked to Cassia as irresistible relaxation lanced through his body.

"Shite."

His eyes twitched around, seeking a place to run, and a small Gate appeared next to him. But its light was weak, and flickering like a lightbulb going out, it faded from existence. Lead filled his body, arms and eyelids fell, and consciousness fled from him like whiskey from a drunk confronted by a beat cop.

@CloudyBlueDay @Shizuochan
 
  • Bucket of Rainbows
Reactions: Elle Joyner
“My teammate -- he -- I have to go.”

Austin's eyes flickered a moment, before the lights went out. He dropped his palms, and opened his mouth to protest before realizing there really wasn't anything to say. Somewhere to his right, the fight between two monstrosities came to a head, and yet his mind was somewhere else entirely. He couldn't rest for even a moment in the haze though, and just as soon as he had stopped using his abilities, he needed them again.

Shut Down. Twice. In one hour? In a burning building? Was it something I said?

Chunks of flaming debris seemed to rain down around him more frequently. Somewhere Austin heard a percussive crackling sound as more ceiling tiles gave way. All the while, he stood in place: his eyes scanned the room for any way out--any solid plan of evacuation. The problem was he wasn't terribly good at making plans--and definitely not while under duress.

It wasn't enough that he avoided suffocating on toxic inhalants because the fire had depleted most of the oxygen anyway. He stumbled forward in a haze, his outstretched hands knocking over scattered debris as he frantically tried to look for someway out. His vision was nearly completely obscured, but he made it some feet before several canisters came hurtling across the floor. Austin stopped in place, whether out of exhaustion or fear, and crumpled to his knees. Seeing the cans brought a wave of nostalgia over him if just for a moment, though one tinged with panic.

Between belabored breaths, he glared at the cans--all of which were emitting an ominous gas--before cursing under his breath. He wanted to cry out, to tell people to run though he knew it would be pointless. He didn't know what he hated more about his situation. Was it that he couldn't muster enough sense to flee from a burning building? Was it the fact that hesitating was about to lead to his kidnapping? Or was it that--for whatever reason--he felt almost relieved that all of it was out of his hands?

Austin felt a rolling sensation of pins and needles from the back of his scalp, and fought for only a moment longer to keep his eyes open. His pale irises sputtered out, his temporary smoke-shield dissipating before he fell limp to the floor.
 
Last edited:
  • Love
Reactions: Elle Joyner
.
"Oh no, oh no..." As the truck decelerated, Dakota's heart rate increased, exponentially, and she watched, powerless as the vans behind them boxed them in. For a horrifying moment, she was sure they were all dead... that the people in the van were going to obliterate them. And it felt like such an ugly, terrible though that it was all Dakota could do not to throw up, then and there.

But the reality... oh, reality was so much worse than her imagination. They didn't want anyone dead - no. They wanted them alive. She was as optimistic as they came, and saw a silver lining, no matter how dire the circumstances, but racking her brain in those few seconds between the truck stopping and the gas can scattering across the asphalt, she could not comprehend a solitary bright side to the entire situation.

Tears streaked her cheeks and her hand tightened on Levi's, as gas expelled, spraying the area around the truck. Her lungs and her eyes burned, her mind filling with panic, with all the terrible thoughts normally kept inherently at bay by her sunny disposition, "I'm so sorry..." She choked out, because along with the many fears and horrors cycling around in her brain, one other consideration plagued her worse than the rest...

It was all her fault...
 
Cassandra Muninn; the Faux Shepherd
@Red Thunder @CloudyBlueDay




Wanderers remembered certain things; experiences, readings, idle findings that maybe didn't translate to wisdom. Just... things. She remembered something about the sympathetic nervous system, of fight or flight, of adrenaline. Here now, watching Patrick's rigid form turn limp, she found that she could give a name to the cold, stabbing sensation that attacked her stomach, the suffocating lump in her throat.

Still, she found the terms of science woefully underwhelming. Adrenaline, fight or flight response. No. This was the soul sucked outwards from the body as hope evaporated. Rather, souls plural. The one that wanted to fight, to go out clawing, kicking and screaming. The one that questioned how she'd fare if she tossed herself off the roof. The one that wanted to scream. The one that gave up.

Cassia looked again at Patrick's tranquil form, as the dart pierced the neck of the failed shepherd.

Of course. It was always going to end like this.

The thought gave her comfort as she fell.
 
Last edited:
Millenium City, New YorkEvan Rowell
“Time’s up.”
The words were hissed, and Evan's feet were grasped by the freezing mass of ice, crawling across the ground and up his body at an incredible rate. He struggled and tried to kick free, but the ice hardened around his muscles, locking him in place and surging ever higher. It was rising above his waist now.

Evan looked ahead, and saw the wicked smile of his captor. Behind her, the man in a lab coat, surveying the scene with an oddly evil look. And beneath him... the redhead, who'd tried to save Evan. He couldn't tell whether she was dead or alive. He hoped she was still breathing. Evan's hands curled into fists as they were frozen by the ice, his eyes turning to lock onto the girl of ice. He would remember her face.

"Ivory", the name registered in his mind, before the ice suddenly shot all the way up at last. "Willow". "Octavia". One foe, one friend, and one hostage? But of course, things were never that easy. And, so it was -- with Evan encased in ice, any attempts to escape would be ineffective, and he'd be entirely at the mercy of his captors.

No way out.

 
h a n g || d a o

Hang looked up from the floor, vaguely aware of the large amount of running around going on. She winced as she tried to pull herself up to her knees, but it hurt too much to even move. Every bit of her felt as if it had been worked out, several hours a day, for a week straight. It was only pure adrenaline that was keeping her going now, especially with the fire raging below. It was hard for her to believe that all of this had happened so quickly, but there would be time to process things later.

Suddenly, the sound of cans clanking on the ground alongside the hiss of gas reached Hang's ears, and she found she recognized the sound. They reminded her of all the times she used to take a pocket knife and stab into cans of hairspray as a preteen to throw into other girls' rooms while they were out at the boarding school, completely wreck all their clothes and bedding when they'd say certain things. But here, there was no telling what that gas was. For all she knew, the gas mains were finally leaking.

The Vietnamese heiress managed to begin clawing her way towards a kid wearing a nice, new-looking hoodie who by this point had collapsed. If she could wake him -- she couldn't remember if he'd been awake to start or collapsed from smoke inhalation -- maybe he could get up long enough to drag her out of here. She'd promise him anything -- anything, whatever he wanted-- if he just got her out of this mess.

However, it became evident what knocked him out as she felt the rolling sensation of pins and needles along her body, eyelids growing heavy. She gritted her teeth as she continued to crawl, an inch at a time, but it was a losing battle. With her face against the floor, she stared at the kid as her eyes finally fell shut, thinking to herself what her life might be worth to even a random stranger like him.

@CloudyBlueDay @TyranasaurusRekt @radiojelly @Joan
 
Alexander Summers - San Antonio, Texas

In hindsight, Alexander actually had plenty of opportunities to run. When the fire first started spreading, when the fire monster climbed to the second floor, when he went to get the fire extinguisher, right after he came back from getting the fire extinguisher, while he was staring and cursing the guy who took his phone as he missed the blackmail opportunity of the beast turning back into the Asian girl from before and the fire monster turning into a girl as well.

So many missed opportunities.

So, after gas cans were thrown up and Alexander took in his first breath, he didn't bother fighting it. Even if he ghosted at this point, it'd be a little late; his power didn't just cancel whatever was already affecting him. It wasn't as if it was an instant heal. So he just sighed, lay down, and made himself comfortable as he waited for sleep to take him. Best not to accidentally bruise himself or anything by trying to fight the gas and stay standing. That would just be silly.
 
Joan Ardent || San Antonio, Texas

Joan tugged on Archer a few more times to no avail. She could feel herself growing even weaker between coughing fits, her body slowing down, her limbs sagging. She couldn’t do a single thing to help Archer or get the door open, and she knew it. All she could do was hope his teammates had heard him and would get here before they both suffocated.

She was leaning with her back against the desk, aching eyes squeezed tightly shut and her jacket wrapped around her face in a feeble attempt to slow down the smoke, when she heard something. She opened her eyes before shutting them again almost immediately, wincing. The inside of the room hadn’t changed that much—still full of smoke and heat and pain, with nothing to do and no way out. But from outside, a female voice called, hard to make out through the crackling flames, but still there.

“Archer? I’m coming!”

It had to be one of his teammates. Who else would be looking for him? But what was she supposed to do here? Just wait for the door to open? Acknowledge the voice in some way?

She opted for yelling back as best she could, and pulled her jacket away from her mouth and opened her eyes so she could respond. She immediately started coughing again, but before she could pull herself together well enough to say anything, something changed, something she couldn’t put her finger on, but enough to make her pause. Something about the quality or the smell of the air in the room, perhaps?

In that moment of hesitation, she felt her eyes begin to close, her breathing grow slower. She shook her head, but unconsciousness was already fast approaching, and she had no way to resist it. In fact, it was a miracle she had lasted this long in the ordinary smoke, jacket or no.

Her eyes closed, and she slid further down the side of the desk, her head nodding forward into her chest as she lost all consciousness.
 
Hedieh Redding // Millennium City

Hedieh let her legs return to her tangible form as she slipped down another floor, fervently hoping that both her trick had worked and that the apartment below was also empty.

Having rushed her drop, not taking the time to do it in stages like last time, she hit the floor hard, falling to her knees and then hastily summoned hands. Wincing, the rest of her reappeared with a loud pop. For a moment her eyes remained closed as she grimaced and shifted her legs. Fucking ow.

It was only after a few seconds that she noticed the hissing sound. Opening her eyes, she saw herself surrounded by smoke, and assumed she'd rudely dropped in on a hotboxing session until she looked up and saw the gas mask.

"Lights out," the mask said, and Hedieh - not yet familiar enough with her powers to immediately react and escape - complied.
 
  • Nice Execution!
Reactions: rissa and Eru
fmliloveucrow
No, not again.

Her chest heaved with panic, rising and falling as she sought to catch her breath against the tides of fate. She leaned over, vainly attempting to take control of the wheel and rest Mason’s limp form against her own. But it was no use, even with the added strength of her telekinesis. Perhaps if she had focused, snatched his boots away from the pedals and replaced them with her own they could have gotten away… She could have given them a few more seconds… Precious seconds…

Crow’s heart tattooed a violent rhythm against her ribcage and her head swam as her breaths became shallower and shallower. Was she even breathing at all? Was Mason? Pulling herself away from her panic, she glanced down at Mason whose head was nestled in the crook of her shoulder. With a wince, she caught sight of what had incapacitated her friend and slowly pulled the tranq dart out with a guilty grimace. She should have known… should have known to throw up a ‘field that would’ve--

The explosion tore through her psyche, ripped her away into unconsciousness, but not until her dome field exploded around her, sheltering only the one beside her. It was too much. Her mind had taken too much…

Please… no, not again.

tags: @allyall​
 
N E V E R N O R M A L
Arc: Dawn
Chapter 2: And In This Cage We Burn


Drip. Drip. Drip.

Bare skin on cold tile. Shivers ran down his spine.

It’s cold… it’s so cold.

Mason found himself stripped of his shirt and jeans. In their place was a thin hospital gown. His vision was blurry as he struggled to pull himself up. He was on the ground, and felt as if he had been thrown like a sack of potatoes. His hand went to his neck. Something stung.

He scooted back in an attempt to find himself something to prop himself up on, but he met a strange surface. Not even a surface. Bars?

A cage.

Finally his vision cleared and he could take in his surroundings. He could see other people lying on the floor or in the cages. Rows and rows of cages, like a human sized dog kennel. He felt sluggish and tired. Mason opened his mouth to scream but could barely manage the energy.

Someone beat him too it.

“Octavia!”

Came the shrill, raspy voice. A girl with green hair that seemed to emit a strange glowing hue was being dragged away from one of the cages. She struggled, but without much ferocity. It was a futile attempt. Two men had grabbed each of her arms and overpowered the small girl with ease.

The call came from a brilliantly red haired girl in a cell three down from himself. Bruises were prominent and fresh on her jawline and cheekbone. She gripped the bars of her cell so tight her knuckles went white. She watched Octavia be dragged away with a wild and fearful look in her eye.

“Willow!” The girl called back, tears brimming in her eyes.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry!”

One of the men pushed open the door at the end of the pathway between the cells. The girl disappeared with them.

Willow slumped helplessly in her cell. Mason could feel his gut twist further and further.

They had been captured by the labcoats.

@HerziQuerzi @rissa @Red Thunder @Eru @Elle Joyner @Bears @Shizuochan
⌽​

The cells of the SPME were icy and sterile, but this place was warm.

There was a comfortable air; something homey. A row of beds were divided by curtains. Cabinets above each contained medical supplies.

Each bed was occupied by the metahumans that had encountered the fire.

If there were wounds they had been bandaged. If there were gashes they had been sewed, and all burns had been treated. They were laying in an infirmary.

Voices traveled through the air, coming from the other side of the door to the infirmary. They were raised and angry.

“You were careless.”

“I was doing my job!”

“Yeah, right, Jasper. You were doing whatever you felt like. We were in danger! You could’ve died!”

The voices were strangely familiar, and the tone of conversation was only escalating.

@Sairento @Doctor Jax @Joan @Radio Jelly

Within The SPME
The following three character’s names wake up with a strange pain in their left shoulder, and a crescent shaped scar. The rest do not.

Heideh, Dakota, Cassia.

Below are the cell arrangements. A green dot marks an unnamed NPC in the cell. Ask me for a description.

bbac6997b823a72b21a1d4e1edb65978.png

Within the Infirmary
The first piece of the place you are in is in the image below.
9b41309cfd7d4ddbca8779fce0518b94.png


You may have your character leave the infirmary and attempt to enter rooms 1, 2, or the blank large room above.
 
Last edited: