Hoods & Capes | IC

[Sail]

A deep, endless expanse, twisting upwards until it meets topsoil; the horizon kisses the earth, a heavy blanket of purple and blue, flecked with blotches of slow-moving white clouds. He looks down into the endless abyss, unsure of what he will find at the bottom.

Click.

Click.

Click.

BOOM! Large rocks launched into the air, soon followed by a bright orange glow - he rears back in pain as he feels heat sear through his flesh. An unfamiliar feeling. His skin begins to drip onto the grass around him like melting butter as the tower of fire continues to extend into the air-

An uncomfortable sickness filled Kallen's stomach as he awoke from the dream-on second thought, it would be considered a nightmare, which had plagued him in a much higher amount since he had been taken a few weeks prior. His comforter had found its way to the other side of the bed and the remainder of his clothing had bunched up beneath the various crevices of his body.

Slow, unsure, two words that came close to describing how Kallen exited the bed. Another few words, these from his own mind: "Ah darn, that sucked." And then, running water; cold filled his mouth, spreading across his teeth in a back and forth motion. He preferred the soft bristles to the rough ones- then more water, falling around him in a torrent of heat and pressure. The scent of burning wood, seared into his skin by soap; it just so happened he could use his power to make his sweat smell like the chemicals in the soap, which would keep him smelling fresh all day.

He pulled on his running clothes, a pair of loose-fitting black shorts and a red t-shirt made of a material similar to his costume. "Do I come back here before the conference, or should I go ahead and pack it?" He answered his own question by pulling it off the hook and tossing it into a cinch sack-the concealed knives somewhat weighed the bag down, but he'd manage.

As he began his run, the dark thoughts from half an hour prior were blasted away by the cold morning air of Washington DC. Unfortunately, fear filled those holes; his kidnapping had happened on a dark morning much like this one. When the pain of running pierced his chest, he fired a pulse of energy at it, rerouting the pain to his feet, then back to his lungs. Back and forth, back and forth, a metronome of pain that kept his mind away from the memories.

The morning sun sat low in the sky as he partook of the holy grail of cheap American breakfast; the McDonalds bacon, egg and cheese biscuit. Fresh biscuit that crumbled with every bite, bacon that crunched beneath his teeth, filling his mouth with the greatest invention mankind had accidently created; bacon grease. His mouth sang the praises of the "McBiscuit" with every morsel of delectable food. Of course, he washed it down with the world famous sweet tea, loaded with 54 grams of sugar and 220 calories of pure bliss.

By the time the sun had reached its noontime home, Kallen had clothed himself with the bright reds that made up his secret identity. He hailed a taxi, and told the driver(a kind older man whose eyes immediately when wide upon seeing this "superhero") to drive him down to the location of the press conference. Upon arrival, he paid the required fee, "Thank you, thank you so much for bringing me here. I hope I wasn't too much of an inconvenience."

"Mom, dad, I hope you are watching this on the TV. I really I hope I make you proud." Not exactly a thought with words, but an impression felt deep within his soul.

 

[Mobley Eats]

Benny Law


Location: Unity In Diversity Dance Studio
Interactions: Angelica "Angie" Chymers & Amelia @Elle Joyner
Status: Hugs and Pizza!

Okay. So...

Pizza dude was really nice! He had a weird way of grumbling and such, but Benny didn't want to judge or point it out. Besides, everyone was different in their own way, which was awesome. Just like the sign of the dance studio said--Unity in Diversity! The world would just be this super boring blob of blergh if everyone was the same. Just a bunch of honky tonky robots with no personalities. Yeesh--that sounded like the makings of a nightmare.

Oh. Wait. The pizza.

Benny currently had one dangling from his mouth while already in the process of reaching for another, while Angie had enough self-control to chomped down on one at a time. Regardless, she didn't mind the gluttony. Three boxes were ordered because both of them were well aware of the bottomless pit Benny called a stomach. His metabolism posed as a bit of a problem and a surprise when he first moved in, but Angie adapted well enough and having him as an assistant choreographer overshadowed the cons. His chipper attitude helped to reel in lots of action for the studio and more novice students stuck around even after growing frustrated with advanced dance sets, quelled by his boundless patience.

So yeah--she didn't mind the unorthodox eating at all.

Their little family dinner slammed to a stop when Benny seized up, his ears visibly twitching like a cat. He didn't bother noticing Angie's quizzical look, instead turning his curious gaze to the hall. "Hey, Ange? Think somebody's here."

"Err..." She lowered her pizza. "But we're closed--yep. Okay. He's gone." The woman heaved a resigned sigh as the last of Benny's form hurtled down the hall like a speeding bullet. He didn't slow down until a human figure came into view, definitely alone, definitely knocking on their door. Huh... Benny didn't recognize this lady.

She looked nice, though!

Benny swung open the doors wide, though he had an inkling of sense left of him to keep all entry into the studio blocked by his person, and beamed at the newcomer. "Heya! If you wanna, like, dance with us and stuff you gotta come back when we're open. I can give you a "goodbye see you later" hug though!" He squirmed a bit, excited at the prospect of a hug, but been scolded enough by Angie to keep the urge on lock until consent was granted.

 

[Elle Joyner]

Amelia's internal debate over whether or not she should turn around and try one of the office buildings was swiftly (and graciously) cut short when a figure suddenly appeared in the crack of the door. So engrossed was she in her confusing self-dispute that she wasn't entirely ready, really, for the interjection, and so the small squeal that escaped her could hardly be helped. If it at all thwarted the energy of the man on the other side, she didn't much notice, and for that she was glad, because golly... he was gloriously energetic. There were very few people (none that she'd actually encountered, in fact) who could quite match her own level of general and unwarranted jubilation for life, but just in the few words her spoke, Amelia could clearly see this guy would give her a run for her money.

Grinning, Amy stepped back a little ways, "OH, no, no... I don't dance! I mean... I dance. But not like... well... not like that." She gestured to the logo on the door with a small chuckle, "Not that I don't want to. It's beautiful. But my feet didn't really get the memo I was meant to, you know? That's not to say I couldn't learn. Anyone can learn anything, even if they aren't good at it, eventually... if they try hard enough. It's just not why I'm here! Except... Well, I do like hugs. Never turned one down, yet." Arms flung out in expectation, as if she'd known him her entire life, Amy did, in fact, accept the embrace with little to no hesitation, and admittedly, she was intensely grateful for the offer, because a hug was just the thing she'd needed...

Except she hadn't come for a hug, and now she was pleasantly distracted, but also ... well, distracted. Funny how there was even a difference... Most people didn't think so, and not just because it was the same word, but because most people didn't look at things the way that Amy did. She had a feeling though her new dance buddy did... And now she was triple distracted.

It was something to do with... televisions downstairs? No. No, that wasn't it. Business men? No... that was just Option B. But Option B for...

OH! Right!

"Emoji!" She suddenly burst, before stepping back again, "I'm sorry! That must've been confusing. My cousin. I'm trying to visit her... or well, I was supposed to be there like...Hmm...four hours ago, but I forgot my phone at home, and then I got lost, and I don't remember the address or how to get there, except that it's not far from the Blue Route. The subway one... but I don't know how far, and I suppose that's really not a big deal in most places, but there are so many streets here, and I wore the wrong shoes, which is a total bummer, cause now these ones have a hole, and I really liked them... But not like, a crazy big deal. I can just get new ones, and anyway, I have lots of shoes and some people out there don't have any... Which is so sad... Oh right! Sorry. Um. I know her number. She made me memorize it probably like... a hundred times... except I can't call cause, well... I forgot my phone. Already said that. Yep. People are just super protective of their phones around here, and the only man who said yes wanted me to give him someone back, but I'm not sure I have what he was asking for? At least I don't think I do? I've never been very good at math. Anyway... Is there a phone here that I could maybe borrow for a second? I'll be really quick, I promise!"

---

TAGS || @Mobley Eats

 

[Seductress]

Perry Stanley



Three Years Ago

​

"Julia? Are you in here?" His grizzled voice was hushed and low as the door to her office slowly opened. His left hand clutched the door knob while his right extended across his body, poking the muzzle of his Mossberg 500 Persuader through the crack in the door. The weapon entered before he did. The sounds of gunshots down stairs began to cease and slow to a halt. Perry couldn't help but stop in his tracks, aiming his hearing toward the staircase. I'm sorry Caesar, I'll come back for you.

The guilt wasn't enough to keep Perry from backing down. Nobody else needed to die tonight. At least, they shouldn't need to die tonight. It was inevitable in this case, but Perry would do everything he could to make sure that doesn't happen. Now that there was absolutely no commotion coming from the main floor, Perry couldn't hear anything coming from Julia's office. The silence was actually sickening, to say the least. This was an institution, a ward for people deemed criminally insane. It shouldn't be as quiet as it was.

The door opened and Perry was met by emptiness. Nothing but a desk and a few filing cabinets. There was a light on the desk, a small lamp that illuminated a few random pieces of paperwork that Julia must have been working on. Perry approached reluctantly, his eyes checking anywhere and everywhere for hidden assailants who were just waiting for him. As he reached the desk, he was still in one piece. No holes, no pain, no scratches or gashes, he was doing okay so far. He noticed a cell phone on the desk, and the screen was still lit up.

Perry leaned his head over the desk to get a glimpse of it, the muzzle of his shotgun feeling back and forth under the desk. He reached out and grabbed the device. It was open to a set of text messages from Conner. Okay, this has to be hers, then. The messages were Conner asking her for all the files she had on Earnest Clay. She never replied to him, so it was easy to assume by the opened filing cabinets that she checked her office, didn't find a thing, and was on her way up to the archives. That must be where they all were. There was a picture frame beside the computer sitting on the desk. It was Conner on the right, Julia on the left, and Hannah in the middle. They were in front of the Lockheart residence. While it sure was nice to see Conner happy and smiling, Julia and Hannah were both radiant with positive energy, even if it was just one picture. You sure do have a good looking family, Con Man.

Pitter.

Patter.

The sounds of footsteps rushing caught Perry's attention. He cocked his weapon so that it was prepared, and he took up a position right beside the door. The foot soldiers were heading toward the office, and Perry knew he had to fend them off. He had to buy the others a bit more time. Looks like we're going down together, Caesar. A foot made sure that the door was wide open. It was apparently seen as a tactical display of aggression, but Perry wasn't daunted by it. He greeted the intruder with a smack from the butt of his shotgun, causing him to fall to the ground. There was maybe three or four others backing the man up. They didn't wear masks, or hoods, or capes. They were just normal, every day street thugs who think they can make it as hired guns.

Before moving back into cover, Perry lifted the muzzle of his weapon up above his opponent's heads, firing off a round. The shot scattered into the ceiling just above their heads, causing them to scramble into cover. Perry stepped out into the hall, noticing there was only one guy hiding on the right side of the doorway. He grabbed the lad by his shirt, bringing his gun up against the man's chin. That distracted the target by freezing him with fear, giving Perry enough time to whack him upside the head. His lights were officially out.

There was two more waiting behind the door. Not anymore, at least. The door came flinging toward Perry, who brought his leg up and instinctively kicked it like a pinata. That gave his attacker a little too wide of a window of opportunity, though. He only held a handgun, but he burst around the door and held it out toward Perry, who kept using his shotgun as a beating stick and swatted the gun out of the young man's hand. He stepped in closer, wrapping his arm around the hired gun's neck, restricting the airflow. The next enemy was ready, but apparently he ran out of ammunition when Caesar went down there to deal with the damn hooligans.

Perry had one guy coming at him with a knife the size of his forearm, and another guy under his arm still struggling to get out. The knife swiped down toward the detective, who danced back a few feet and put his hostage in front. You wouldn't be in this situation if you would just loose consciousness already. The knife came across Perry's chest, just grazing him. His shirt was the only thing that got slices. Unfortunately it was his good bowling shirt, so he wasn't exactly happy about that. The struggling began to fade, and he was finally unconscious. Perry dropped both his gun, and the hooligan as he buckled his knees, and held his hands out like it was a high school wrestling (or..wrastling, as Perry called it) match.

The target lunched forward, and Perry took a step back to dodge. One more strike, and Perry caught the man's hand just in the nick of time. His sausage fingers wrapped around the thug's slim wrist, and Perry pulled the man toward him. He brought his other hand up, cracking his palm against the man's ear. Surely that caused him enough pain as he tried to double over, but Perry hit him once again, this time on the chin, and caused him to crumble to the ground.

There was no more movement now. Nobody had to die, even though it probably would have made Perry's life a lot easier. He didn't want to see anyone else die, not tonight. If he could work around it, he would. Sometimes casualties were the only unavoidable thing about his job, but that was only under certain circumstances. He scooped his weapon up off the ground and made his way back over to the staircase, poking his head over to make sure that nobody else was waiting for him. Luckily, there was no more sneak attacks waiting for him. Time to go find the others.

The closer the detective got to the top floor, the colder it was getting. It was as if someone had left the door to the roof open and...ah, fuck. Perry turned one more corner, the sweat starting to bead down his face as he ascended up the stairs. He could see the threshold to the roof, and even better, he saw Julia running down toward him. "What's going on?" He called to her.

"It's that guy you've been looking for," Julia huffed to him. "Finn, or whatever you call him."

"Okay, go back down to the lobby and call the police. It's not safe to go back to your office." Perry had no idea that those words would be the last he would ever say to her, but how would he have known? He burst through the threshold to the roof. Snow was falling heavily, and it was starting to build up around the blonde woman that was sprawled out on the ground, her staff beside her. Conspiracy must not be used to this much action, but then again, Conner wasn't doing too great himself.

Finn was going off on a long monologue. Conner sat in front of him, on his knees with his mask on the ground beside him. Finn had his sword resting on Conner's shoulder, just waiting to take his head off. The sword would have to wait, though. There was a loud blast from Perry's gun, and Finn was over the edge of the building, probably about halfway toward the ground below by now.

"Stick that in your stocking, you son of a bitch."

Anarchy

Downtown Washington

Current Day

​

There was a lot of hustle and bustle. Anarchy watched all of it from her perch under the tree, and she could honestly say that everything seemed like more work than it was worth. Bruise colored bags sat firmly under her blue eyes; she hadn't slept at all that night. Between Nicole getting involved with Chore and that fire, and then the business Anarchy had to take care of herself, there was pretty much no time to sleep. Paranoia started to hit her brain. Was it paranoia? No, it couldn't be. Having this many superheroes out in the open, with figures of heavy political weight? That was a recipe for certain disaster at this point in the game. The Night Watcher might be out and distracted with his new friends, but Anarchy would have to talk to him and remind him about what's actually going on here. She had a Glock hidden in the garbage can to her left, and strapped two batons to the back of her utility belt.

[FONT=Marcellus, serif]When she first met Conner, he had told her to be prepared for even the smallest of inconveniences. If he was smart, he would be prepared. It was always a 50/50 gamble when it came to Conner using his brain. Coming to the conference was a good idea in and of itself. The president hadn't seemed to have arrived yet, but the secret service had already formed a wall in front of the stage that the city workers had spent all morning putting up. There was something that caught her eye, though. On the stage there was a cardboard box that kept shuffling around. It looked like there were two holes poked in the box. Anarchy wanted to go check it out and secure it, but she knew that she would have to fight through a large barrier of big, burly government agents. That would be no bueno. The box was way too out of range for her to use her weird mind powers, plus all the commotion and hubbub around her made it difficult to focus. [/FONT]

People were starting to show up. No, not normal people. They were already there. The Tin Can had arrived on the scene, and Transfer, or whatever his name was. Anarchy could even point out that the detective was there, meaning The Night Watcher should be lingering around somewhere. That Iron Head chick was actually pretty interesting. She had the kind of demeanor that made it look like she didn't want to be involved in Conner's antics, and yet she still fought on and worked toward saving the day. Maybe that's who she should go to first. Nobody saw her in costume yesterday; Conner knows what she looks like without the mask, so he knew she was there. Nobody else knew it, though. Then again, Anarchy wasn't there. Only Nicole. Should Anarchy even be getting addressed by the president in the first place? Now that really was the question she needed to be asking herself.

[FONT=Marcellus, serif]It was fairly chilly under the tree. The weather was getting colder and colder, and the Weather Network even threatened the working class with snow flurries earlier that morning. So far there was no sign of the cold misery that descended from the skies, but the day was still young. Wait...snow, winter, [/FONT]ice[FONT=Marcellus, serif]. The ice chick who Conner was with addressed Nicole like she was an every day citizen last night. Maybe she should try and find her, and introduce herself as Anarchy, instead of just another damsel in distress like Nicole gave off. Why did Nicole have to pick out an outfit that barely covered her skin? This was a super suit that needed to go into hibernation for the winter, that's for sure. She took a few steps toward the main road as some man in a snowsuit came on to the stage and started getting the microphone and such working. That was when she saw him.

Off to the right wing of the stage she saw that Vice President, Joseph Pearson. He was flipping through a bunch of notes on a clipboard, a fat stack of papers. Beside him, running his mouth and looking over the papers was that fucking congressman, Clifford Chore. He didn't look smug or cocky, but just looking at him pissed Anarchy off. The Night Watcher kept going on and on about how the political attack would be the first step in the invasion, but they never speculated what would happen if the first attack didn't work. With the group thwarting off the attempt on Chore's life last night, things were going to be escalating soon. They would probably be going out of their way to take Clifford out now. With all of these people around, Anarchy couldn't let that happen. She had to find the others, she had to warn them. [/FONT]

[FONT=Marcellus, serif]

[/FONT]​

[FONT=Marcellus, serif][/FONT]

The Night Watcher


The Press Conference

(It's about to start, get over here)
​

"Yeah, I'm The Night Watcher."No, that's not right. "Hey, yeah that's me, The Night Watcher." Conner cleared his throat as he looked into the rear view mirror of the Lincoln. Since his cape was out of commission,he had to go back to the original Night Watcher costume. It was probably about ten years old by now, being there since he first started this gig of night watching. He sighed, resting his head on the steering wheel. This shouldn't be as difficult as it is. You show up, talk to the other heroes, smile and wave when the president addresses you, and then go get some pie. Get some sleep after this, and then go track down Chore at his home for questioning. It's an easy process, so stop talking to yourself and get to it.

"Night Watcher, here to serve and protect." That's gotta be the one. Conner looked at his masked self in the mirror, shooting his reflection with the ole' cool guy finger guns before rising up out of his seat and locking his door behind him. It was clear by the amount of folks gathering around near the stage that Taffer must have been a pretty cherished president. Lots of people were coming out, but it could also be because people loved superheroes. Something about the folks that risked their own lives to keep them safe probably caused everyone else to love them. The Night Watcher, Snowfall or whatever her name is, Transfer, The Iron Nerd, Anarchy, they were pretty much just a shield. They were a crutch for the every day citizens who couldn't protect themselves against the meta-humans. Fuck it, they couldn't even defend themselves against a mugger. People like Conner were needed in this day and age.

Perry was standing a fair distance from everybody else, but he was still in range. Conner could point out Anarchy, who was desperately searching around. She looked spooked, and she didn't actually scare easily (unlike Nicole, who jumps every time the floor squeaks) so whatever has her so frantic must have been a big deal. He was heading toward her when the stage caught his attention. Clifford Chore. That was easily who it had to have been. It clicked what theory was probably going through Anarchy's head as soon as he saw the congressman. Conner had backup prepared; Conspiracy was patrolling the different roof tops looking for a decent vantage point, but it was pretty hard to convince her to come and at least keep an eye open. Why wait until afterwards to question Chore? He could just lure him back stage and string him up from a tree and ask all the questions he needed answers to.

Making his merry way, The Night Watcher approached the group of secret servicemen, one of which had reached into his jacket. Conner knew that was a sign to back off or else there would be gunfire, but Conner didn't care. He had taken on guys three times any of their size, and never really backed down easily. He balled his hands into fists as he got past the last few people of the crowd, and watched as one of the servicemen stepped forward. "Oh, that's the night watcher," Came the deep and burly, yet warm and friendly voice of Vice President Pearson. "Get him up here, it's time to start getting the heroes all lined up and ready." Conner's eyes opened wide and his body froze as he as about to throw the first punch, an agent already behind him grabbing him by the hips to hoist him up on to the stage.

"I'm vice president Pearson," the friendly man spoke up. "And I believe you've already met Clifford Chore."

"Yeah....Night Watcher...Serve and protect....well listen, I have a few words I need to have with Chore before we get going."

 

[Ragamoofin]

[Synergizer.]

Location: Press Conference > Rooftops
​

Anselle's earbuds were slowly pulled out of his ears, bike rolling to a stop supported by his planted feet. "Ah, geez," Anselle muttered, breathing through his teeth at how dense the crowd was. He'd rolled up to what he assumed was the outermost of it all. Anselle's helmet clicked from under his chin, settling the straps along his handlebars as his hands roamed through his hair.

"I really wished we'd gotten here earlier," Anselle grumbled, almost whining. "How are we gonna be a part of history when we can't even see the history being made?!" Slumping over in a huff, Anselle glared a metaphorical hole through the wall of people. If only he'd had x-ray vision...

[We could always take the high ground.]​

Anselle peeked over his shoulder, finger spreading between his braids to peer up at the tall buildings around them. "Yeah, yeah, that could work," he muttered, a mischievous smile pulling onto his face. Then it dipped, shoulders pulling tight under his sweater. "Uh, think you could make the climb?" Anselle took a hard gulp, wheeling his bike away from the crowd, towards the least eye-catching building. "Heights kind of freak me out."

[Of course. You can close your eyes if you like.]​

Anselle shivered, rolling into an alley, eyes falling shut as light surged from his skin. "Thanks..."

Anselle swallowed hard as he felt the world lurch around him, suddenly propelling upwards, dimly feeling his body move - it always felt weird when Syn took over; he was aware of what he was doing, it just wasn't him doing it. Anselle's lungs breathed on their own, feeling solid ground under his feet, heat bubbling away until he felt the cold chill of the wind over his cheeks. Anselle blinked through the stinging chill, legs going a little wobbly at the sight of the crowd from four stories up.

"Geez, you move fast," Anselle muttered, taking a slow walk to the edge of the rooftop, folding his arms over the cold stone. Anselle narrowed his eyes at the stage, people looking more like indistinct blobs. And here he was without his glasses...or binoculars.

Wait, lightbulb.

"Ooh, yeah, yeah, yeah!" Anselle's hand dug into his pocket, finding his phone, quickly tapping on the camera. Holding it up towards the stage, Anselle's fingers splayed over the screen, zooming into the stage, shapes coming into focus. "Almost there...c'mon..." Anselle's mouth bit into a frown when his camera reached its maximum zoom. "Oh, damn." So close, but...wait.

"Huh? Who's that?" Anselle stared at his phone's screen, squinting at the grey costumed hero taking the stage. "Look familiar to you?"

[Ah, yes. That's The Night Watcher. I can't believe he's still active after all this time.]​

Anselle made a noise of realization. "Oh, yeah. He's one of those heroes that helped out in that attack last night!" Anselle lost sight of the Night Watcher, camera refusing to zoom into his increasingly blurry image. "I wonder who else is gonna show..."

 

[Mobley Eats]

Benny Law


Location: Unity In Diversity Dance Studio
Interactions: Angelica "Angie" Chymers & Amelia @Elle Joyner
Status: Hugs and More Pizza!

Benny let loose a series of giggles as the new lady bumbled and tripped over her words. Heh--he liked her! She was obviously super nice, mostly because he could tell a "good" aura from a "troubled" one. Never bad, mind you. Just troubled. Everyone could gain a good aura, the amount of effort applied to reach that point just varied from person to person. Point was, Benny wasn't sensing much trouble from her.

Nothing on the surface level, though. Anything else lurking underneath? Wasn't his right to intrude.

"That's cool," he chirped, shrugging, "But you ever wanna, like, give it a shot? This is the place for you! We're super patient and good at what we do. And always down to make friends. Oh!" In an instant, his demeanor nearly tripled in wattage and he beamed a toothy smile, eyes glimmering. Moving faster than the woman could blink, he swooped her up into a tight bear hug, lifting her from the ground a few inches and nuzzling all the while. Man--hugs were the best and no one could ever make him consider otherwise. What could he say? He was a stubborn dude.

"Aren't you a stubborn child..."

Rushing water. Shooting up his nose. Cramming down his throat. Stinging his eyes, his lungs, his face.

A sharp pain crawled through his scalp.

"Two hundred more. Prepare yourself."

Benny blinked. "Whoa..." With half a thought, he gently placed the woman down, smoothing out any wrinkles in her top he'd created from the attack of affection. That was a new one. Definitely new. Nothing like the others--

"Emoji!"

"EMOWHA!" The exclamation jumped out of Benny higher than the actual jolt that raced through his body. He blinked. Once. Twice. Some more. He'd only managed to pick up a few choice words from the hasty explanation that followed, but he pieced together enough information to get the gist of everything. Immediately, the confusion lifted and nodded eagerly while allowing her inside. "Totally! We've got a phone. Landline in stuff, if that's cool? Angie doesn't let other peeps touch her phone and I don't, like, have one. Broke like seven last week? Wait--no. Eight?" He froze, lips pursed in thought. "...Yeah." Another nod. "Twenty. Anyway! Come in, come in! We got pizza! You want pizza? Of course you do! Like, bro, who doesn't like pizza?" No one, that's who.

Benny waltzed over to the other end of the studio, where a phone was perched on the wall. He gave it a loving pat, though it was a tad too harsh and made the body rattle. "Here she is! You call Emo all you want. I'll grab the pizza! ANGIE WE HAVE A VISITORRRR! Oh dude, I'm Benny by the way. ANGIIIIIIE!"

A moment passed.

Then a female groan echoed down the hall.

"Another one?"

Benny chuckled while folding himself, seemingly proud of himself. "Yep! Bring the pizza, pwease!"

A second groan, but the recognizable sound of approaching footsteps followed.

 

[KatSea]

Jethro Carver




"Hey, Jules, how is it looking on your end?" Carver's lips had creased into a deep, thoughtful frown as his eyes darted above several heads clustered together. He hadn't expected the conference to...well, be somewhat overwhelming. He knew very well the sort of people who would show up to this event, and found himself gawking at several of the tight, colorful spandex tights that danced across his vision. The heroes themselves did not set the young man off guard, having considered most of them to be rather...well, quirky, but they appeared harmless to officers such as him. Just smile and wave boys, let the vigilantes do the work as long as they agree to a government contract. Not that that's a bad thing or anything...but considering the ass kicking I had to put myself through to even get a badge around my neck...I knew I should have put on a good damn cape and just burst out into the fray to get my work done. Isn't that how batman became a detective? Skipped the police work, test and training all together. In all honesty, that makes me the fucking dumbass. No no, besides I don't think neon bodysuits would suit my frame any way. I look damn good the way I-

"Lookin good on my end Carver, Roger!" A cheery voice beamed on the other side of the phone. Carver's partner in solving crime for almost a year now perked up, the smile on her face basically palpable through the screen of his phone. He had recalled there was still a splash of light yellow encompassing the bags of her eyes, but decided to erase the image from his memory as she continued in a flurry. "Jethro I think we might be lucky today. I'm thinkin cocktails after! Ooo! Maybe some nachos too~"

"Er, let's put a pin in that, just in case we actually end up..." Lowering his voice into a grumbling whisper, he scrubbed his thumb over his eyes tiredly "In case it ends up there's a lot more on our plate today than just a contract to sign. My guess this is a good of a time as any to try and pull a stunt. Especially with all the fucking big timers that decided to show up..." One freaking pull of a lever and this place could go up in freaking smoke...along with all the good guys cornered into one place. Mm, I doubt anything that big but hey, let's see what kind of psychotic super villain might burst through the window. Heh. Who needs superpowers when you've got a nine millimeter?

"Don't worry too much about it, Carve. I've got my eyes open! Oooo~ Night Watcher is looking very fetching today! Dang silver is a very slimming color..."

"Jules."

"Yes Carve??"

"What did we say about having your eyes open?" It took every atom in Carver's body to resist the urge to smile, his hand coming to clamp over his eyes in a light hearted attempt of masking his expression.

"They were open!"

"Open on kissing Watcher's ass..."

"Hey! Listen, kindness leads to good places! Maybe if I keep butt kissing I can see super secret underwater lairs!"

"...Jules."

"Sorry Jethro."

"just...Keep your eyes open, okay? Believe me, Perry is gonna want to make sure today goes smoothly and as much as I think this is a bit of a waste...I know how much this means to you. So please..."

"Mmmmmhmm. Don't worry. I've got this in tip top shape. I am the best partner you are ever gonna get, after all, and I am determined to make sure that the title stays. Stay safe, call me if you need me."

"Same goes to you, Jules." Stifling a chuckle behind closed lips, he slowly hung up the phone and shoved it into the deepest depths of his back pocket. Rustling his hands through his now tangled hair, he found solace and purchase as his arms raised above his head. However, footsteps caught the young man off guard, and with a lazy glance, he noticed a familiar hero eyeing him from beyond the way. He had only heard of Snowfall and Torrent during a lazy night of patrol and gotten the late night call of a robbery being stopped half way due to the fact that...well, they were frozen in place. It both pissed off and amused the detective, although the frosty hero across the way brought a warmer disposition than mere annoyance. It wasn't quite admiration, not even towards the level of nonchalance. But there was a respect. There was a respect for the blue cladded hero, even as she had become aware that he caught her glancing over. Shifting awkwardly, quirking her head back towards the crowd, she sheepishly raised a gloved hand and waved to the detective that caught her eye.

"Good day to you, miss." Carver greeted, the hooded hero shifting at the sudden call to her. Without missing a beat, the hero slipped past beyond Carver's eyesight, darting past the crowd beyond to the other heroes that awaited. His brow raised. Huh...I've heard of a nerd superhero. I don't know if I've heard of a skittish one. Poor dear. Hope she doesn't trip over her own fuckin shoelace...

Be nice, Carver.

A familiar tone consumed his train of thought. Carver's eyes threatened to roll into the back of his head with disbelief at his own internal monologue, but he kept himself straightened, reminding himself to keep his own goddamn advice. Keep his eyes open. Just in case.

 

[Ragamoofin]

[Synergizer.]

Location: Rooftops
​

The cold was a fierce adversary, Anselle could already feel his fingers begin to be lost to the chill. Catching his phone between a few fingers, Anselle cupped his hands around his mouth and blew. "Geez...where is everyone? There's only like, the Lake Watcher guy."

[Night Watcher.]​

Anselle nodded, eyes looking glassed over; bored out of his mind. "Yeah, that one." Forgoing using his phone again, Anselle propped himself up by his elbows on the ledge of the rooftop, looking down to the crowd, looking just a tad more dense. "Man, look at all of them," Anselle muttered, gestured down at the growing crowd. "Crazy how people just...really, really love heroes, isn't it?" Anselle's hand - cold as all outdoors, predictably, rested against his forehead. "Like, they look up to them! Write, I don't know, how many comics are based of actual superheroes?"

[Hm, a question to ask once we're back at the store, I would say. We've just gotten in some vintage comics, remember?]

[But, yes. This world is very strange, Anselle. So many wish for the power to make a change, a difference in the world. Some, you, have that power. I believe it's only human nature to look up to those individuals, as their actions have a tremendous impact on the world at large.]​

Anselle's lips twisted into a frown, eyeing what he could make out of the stage, even the distinct shape of Night Walker gone. Geez, he needed to remember to carry his glasses. Anselle's hands settled around his ears, focusing on his palms, feeling a familiar warmth pass through his veins. "Not all of us are trying to make a positive change, though. And it really gives me the creeps to think about a bunch of heroes and suits in one spot." Anselle narrowed his eyes at the stage, seeing nothing but vague blurs.

[Ah...I thought I was alone in that fear.]

[I would hope not. This could be a monumental day for empowered individuals, but I understand the importance of this day invites...]​

Anselle's eyes scanned the crowd below, heart, stomach sinking at the thought of another attack. "Villainous fuckery," Anselle grumbled, bitterness tasting foul on his tongue.

[Exactly my thoughts.]​

Anselle huffed into his sleeves, keeping his eyes on the crowd, eyes focusing just enough to make out faces - smiles, children excited, grabbing at their parent's jacket or coat. Anselle buried his face in his hands, groaning hard into his illuminated palms. "Oh, please, I'm begging whoever's listening, just let this day be okay."

[I believe your anxiety is for naught.]​

Anselle peeked through his fingers, squinting blindly at the clouds above. "Yeah, tell that to my...anxiety."

[Consider this, if nothing else: with such a prominent, growing presence of heroes, I don't think any villain would attempt an attack that wouldn't be thwarted shortly.]

[Besides, we're here. There will be no fuckery our watch.]​

It wasn't quite enough to untangle the knots of worry in his gut, but it was enough to get Anselle's shoulders to drop, at least. "I guess that makes sense," he grouched, pursing his lips as he reached for his phone. "I just don't wanna have to make any more feet, or arms, or-" Anselle made a face, swallowing back the faint taste of bile in his throat. "Any body parts! I just wanna be a sorta, kinda piece of superhero history, grab a crepe and maybe go to the arcade after, but no more body parts."

[Anselle, please. As the youth say, don't trip?]​

That...gave Anselle pause, distracted him from his worries from just how bizarre it sounded for Syn to say that. "I'll...try my best." Back onto his camera, Anselle gave the stage a scan, a quirking frown on his lips at just how little he could make out. "Oh, c'mon. A monkey wrench already?" Anselle's tongue stuck between his gap as he played with the zoom on his phone, brightening, darkening - all for nothing, his phone was a piece of garbage.

"Not a monkey wrench, nope," Anselle sighed, fingers going lax over the blurry screen, eyes falling to the ground. "It's the whole damn tool box."

Foiled again.

[Hm...Anselle, could I see this?]​

A curious brow rose at the strange request, Anselle giving a slow scan of his belongings, which wasn't much. "Uh, see what?" Brows going higher when his hands moved without his intent, concern immediately gripping his heart at Syn holding his phone. "Ah, Syn-"

[You're going to be upset, but I believe it won't last.]​

That didn't sound good, that really didn't sound good. Anselle gave a nervous chuckle, trying to be subtle in his attempt to regain control of his hands, of his phone. "Aha! Good one, Syn! Let go of my phone."

[I'll only be a moment.]​

The veins had begun to stand out against Anselle's neck from his strain - apparently unfelt by Syn, who kept a lock on control of his arms. The tratorious things. In a flash of violet, Anselle's hands were warm, heavier from their sudden armored shell. Oh no. "Syn, what are you doing to my phone?!"

Syn didn't answer, not mentally; but Anselle knew a moment later. A flash of magenta raced through the frame of his phone, Anselle's eyes growing wide at the immediate crackle of his screen, shattered beyond functionality. A second flash of his aura had his phone held together by the light, the gaps from the first spread of force growing wider. The pieces floated, suspended above his palm, and all at once, the light-drenched fragments drew into his armored hand.

"My phone," Anselle whispered, brows furrowing together, hands trembling, light in his blood building up into bright spots under his gauntlets - he could feel his braids hovering off his back, aura coming to full flux at his next screech: "My music!!!"

[What a marvelous invention. Worldwide communication at one's fingertips...yet, so limited.]​

Aura dimming to a easily missed gleam over his clothes, Anselle found his hands once again wandering, coming together with a hard crash. Palms towards the sky, Anselle's eyes were forced into a stunned blink at the spark of color between his hands, erupting into an expanding light, quickly snapping to the identifiable shape of-

"My phone?" Anselle asked aloud, gauntlets fading away as his hands snagged the object, face bathed in the rosy light coming off what looked like a phone - just not his; it didn't look anywhere near this cool.

It was bigger than before, just about the size of his hand, screen flawless and framed by a metallic-looking body, the light sinking into the peachy shell. The screen immediately went to the homescreen, which looked different - simplistic, icons all the description provided. "Whoa, what the-" Anselle's fingers found the camera icon, eyes bugging at just how clear everything was. "Syn, what the fuck! How did you do this?"

[It was just a matter of building upon what was already there. You'll find it much more useful, now.]​

Eyebrow raising, Anselle's eyes went to the far off stage. A devilish smirk crawled onto his face, sneaking closer to the ledge. Fingers sliding across the screen, Anselle watched the picture sharpen, define itself as he kept sliding. "I can't believe I'm spying on superheroes on a phone my hands ate and then gave birth to."

[How is it?]​

Anselle's finger stopped when the cool blues and pale colors filled his screen, having to draw back to get a good look at the newest hero to arrive. "It's awesome, but look! Another one showed up!" Anselle's thumb instinctively took a picture, as unbecoming as the photo turned out. "Uh, I think I read a few comments about her. Oh, what's her name?"

[Snowfall, the Ice- ...hm.]​

Anselle's thoughts seemed to go in a similar direction, the boy snapping up from his phone to squint off in the distance. "Like at the diner?"

[...You don't think.]​

Anselle's eyes settled back onto his screen, scrutinizing the super's costume. "...No, no..." Anselle took another picture, just for good measure. "No way. Can't be."

 

[Elle Joyner]

Amelia never much ascribed to the turn of phrase 'good hugger'. It seemed, after all, to insinuate there was such a thing as a bad hugger, and as far as she was concerned, that was just an absurd and slightly offensive suggestion. A hug was a human blanket, warm and cozy and safe... And even if a person wasn't well versed in the nature of the embrace, there could never be a bad version. That being said... her new dance friend was a very good hugger. As her feet left the ground, a giggle left her mouth, bleeding into a wide grin, even as he reset her and began to smooth her rumpled sweater.

"Landline is totally fine. Don't tell, but I kinda think they're better than all these smart phone things anyway. People spend too much time staring at life hacks and google and tweeter that they forgot what real friendship looks like. It's super handy, but I kinda wonder what the world might look like if everyone had landlines still. That, and I really like the old twirly cord..." Following the man inside, she laughed lightly, "I don't usually break mine... Just lose them. My cousin said I should get one of those kinds you wear on your wrist... But I'd probably lose that too." Rubbing the back of her neck, she shrugged.

"I'd love to stay for pizza, but I should probably just call Emoji and get over there. I'm already way late, and she worries..." Plucking up the receiver, she held it to her ear before dialing the number she had drilled into her head. After a few buzzes of the ringtone, a familiar voice picked up on the other end, and breathing a sigh of relief, Amy launched into a rapid explanation of the situation. When she'd finished, she dissolved into a series of 'understanding noises' ... Hmms and Yeahs... Before promising she'd call if anything went wrong again. Finally, with a 'see you soon!', she returned the phone to the cradle and turned to her new friend.

"Thank you so so much! She wants me to meet her where that big conference thing is happening. Said I can't possibly get lost, since there's a bunch of signs everywhere. I should probably go, just in case... But I'm gonna try real hard to remember this place and come back! I'm Amelia, by the way, but my friends call me Amy... Or well... Sometimes they call me Dory, but that's a long story. Anyway... It was really nice meeting you..."

---

TAGS || @Mobley Eats

 

[Mobley Eats]

Iron Head


Location: Press Conference
Interactions: Night Watcher @Seductress & Civilians
Status: Low Key Nervous

Hooooooly shit there were a lot of people here.

Well, yes, she expected a gathering of curious citizens, but this was way beyond her scope. More specifically, outside of her comfort zone. Iron Head could handle a handful of people, a small group, and even then that was skating on thin ice for her. But now... Christ. She swore she would vomit at any second.

Keep it together, Nellie. Keep it together. They're just people. No different from you... except for the blood powers. And trauma. And everything else. Fuck. Just breathe and it'll be over, then I go back to video games. Yes, alright--she could handle this just fine. Conveniently, her thoughts died at the same time reality forced its way back into focus. She came to a stop on the outskirts of the crowd, her metal dome barely peeking over the others. Fortunately, she didn't have a chance to spiral into a "fuck how do I get through this" panic because her presence became apparent--quickly, at that. Citizens gasped and stared, shuffling aside to give her room. They didn't exactly look upon like some monster drudged up from the sewers, but the conflict and caution was palpable.

...She couldn't really blame them.

Biting back a sigh, Iron Head awkwardly squeezed her way through the masses, eyes shifting about behind the visor in search of a familiar face. Anyone. Then she spotted one--Night Watcher; however, he seemed to already be on stage and discussing some business with a bunch of dudes in suits. Not exactly her cup of tea. Thus, she fell back in desperate scanning of the area... but then she stiffened. That scent, she definitely recognized it. An odd mismatched concoction of sweet and tangy, but nothing to an extreme degree. It almost smelled... harmonious? Balanced?

Symbiotic?

Either way, there was no way in hell Iron Head could mistaken the smell for anything else. The iron avenger fell stock still, ignoring the curious glances individuals tossed her way, and closed her eyes, honing all of her senses on that single scent. Definitely not among the ground, but... higher up? The actual fuck? Slowly, she turned and looked directly at the source of her suspicions. From this distance, it was hard to make out the details, but a figure was definitely lurking on the rooftops and apparently, she had ran into this person before...

Whatever. Plenty of weirdos liked to climb buildings. Parkour and all that. Except this parkour weirdo had one of the most complex bloodlines her nostrils have ever decoded. Jesus, what in the hell was it? An alien? Horrible experiment gone wrong, just like her? For anyone else, knowing that you weren't alone could be a comforting thought, but all it did was stir nausea in her gut. No... Hell no. She wasn't fucking with that. Besides, it had yet to pose any real threat or hostility, so she had no reason to waste her energy worrying about it.

However, she would keep their scent in mind, just to be safe.

Growing impatient with herself, Iron Head swallowed back her nerves and marched the rest of the way up to the stage. She unfortunately bumped into many civilians along the way, internally wincing when one man was knocked over by a metal shoulder check. Iron Head had caught him before he tasted gravel and hauled him back onto his feet, but she'd ignored any further babbling from him. She ascended the short set of steps and immediately took note of the agents standing guard. Oh... I'm shaking in my big metal boots... Their paranoia seemed as heightened as ever, because one of them stiffened and pinned her down with a warning glare, as if begging for a reason to put a bullet between her eyes. In response, Iron Head raised a single hand, formed the p-shape with her middle finger, touched it to her nose (aka, her visor), then brought it out to symbolize "F".

"Piss off."

Try Hards. She vaguely wondered if any of them made noises everywhere they went, the broomsticks shoved up their asses scraping the floor like nails on a chalkboard.

Regardless, she wasn't looking to start any trouble, so she clamped her mouth shut and merely nodded at Night Watcher. Then her tired eyes roamed the people before her, the endless, abysmal, never-ending sea of bodies...

Don't throw up. Don't throw up. Don't throw up. Don't you fucking dare...

 

[Zerofighter]

Character: Liz Larson; Sunspot
Location:Nearby High School

Liz smiled to herself as she walked past the local high school. She was becoming know throughout her neighborhood. The bright hero, who was always smiling. Sunspot! They were saying how she stopped a bus from crashing into a massive crowde of students. It was nice to appreciated for the work she did. Though....it would also be nice to be known across the city. To have people look at her in the sky when she flies over the city! People shouting out
"Look Theres Sunspot! Sunspot we love you!"

Stopping at the sight of her house, forwning softly. Seeing the empty driveway. Mom and Dad were at work still. Letting out a soft sigh, wanting to spend the day with them. "Theyre never home...." She told herself, letting out a disapointed sigh. Dad worked as a cook for a local restaurant and part time as a security guard. Her mother was a cleaning lady for some big research company. Though for some reason, her bosses made her sign a deal to not disclose anything about her work. Which was odd, I mean what could she tell about? How dirty some office was? The intern who spilled coffee everywhere?
But now, all she had was free time on her hand. No work at the cafe today, and she wasnt in college right now.
"Well you could always fly around the city? You love doing that?" She replied back to herself.
"Yea and talk to yourself more. You better stop before some kid hears you and thinks your a lunatic."

Deciding to stop sounding like a crazy person, Liz went to a secluded alley by her home. Changing into her costume, while hiding her street clothes in their usual hiding spot. In the burst of bright light, Liz shot into the air with a gleeful whoop. She sighed taking in the fresh air at this height, looking across the horizon, and into the city. Maybe a quick patrol, maybe she will see other heroes and get to work with them. Like Night watcher! With a excited gleam in her eyes, she darted off to the city in the blink of an eye.

 

[Seductress]

The Night Watcher

The Party Crashers Are On The Move
​

"What seems to be the problem?" Chore asked, putting his hand firmly on The Night Watcher's shoulder.

"There has been two attacks on your life now," Conner pointed out, walking off to the side wing where they couldn't be seen."Both attacks happened simultaneously, one after the other. Is it really safe for you to be here right now? There's a lot of people out there, all of which you're potentially putting right in the middle of the cross hairs. Not to mention the president."

"It sounds to me like you're just being paranoid, my friend. How many of these people are either superheroes or secret service men and women? Besides, recent studies have shown that there's more people with meta-human level abilities that aren't putting masks on."

Silence fell over Conner as he listened. Was that a logic he could really argue with? Besides, this guy was a politician. United States congress, nothing Conner could say would scare him in any way, shape or form. What was the point?

With a sigh, and the shake of his head, Conner patted the man on the shoulder.

"I just hope you're prepared, sir. If things get complicated, stay near me and don't wander off. Gravitate toward one of the supers, especially that walking soup can over there. She might give you a lot of attitude, but don't take it personally." Now that their little conversation was over again, Conner made his way over to Iron Head on the stage.

Maybe the best option for warning a politician that he was in danger would by going the Batman route. Break into Chore's house while he's asleep, string him up over his balcony with a piece of rope and imitate the sounds of someone having a from in their throat. "Hey, Iron Head," The Night Watcher whispered over to Nellie. He motioned with his head toward Chore, his eyes scanning over the roof tops. "I'm keeping an eye on our friend Mr.Chore over there, if you could keep watch over the windows in the buildings across from us, we might be able to catch anything before it happens. I have a friend on the roof tops, so we have that covered already."

Vice President Joseph Pearson was looking as sharp as usual. Every time Conner had seen him on the television he was always wearing some snazzy suit, never wearing the same one twice. Conner was never really into living like that; dressed as an important pearson but it was still a good look. As the Vice President approached him and Iron Head, he extended a warm hand to either of them for a shake. "Please allow me to be the first to thank you two for everything you've done. Your services are greatly appreciated. I don't know where we would be without people like you guys. Odds are the United States would have fallen apart by now, if it weren't for supers."

There was something satisfying about the man's voice. It was deep yet had a slight grizzle to it. It wasn't exactly raspy, but still sounded like one of the more unique radio personalities instead of the voice of a Vice President. The suit he wore was at least $600. It was a navy blue Hemsworth suit made of wool. It wasn't wrinkled, but instead creased in all the right spots. He even had a hankie tucked into his pocket, which made Conner need to bite his lip. "What's the matter, son, cat got your tongue?" Pearson asked as his gaze moved over toward Conner, who released a muffled chuckle the moment he noticed the hankie.

The next person up the stage, violently pushing her way past the secret service agents, was Anarchy. Her eyes didn't leave Chore, they were filled with a hungry blaze of anger. Clearly, she shared the same fears that The Night Watcher was feeling, but she was a little less diplomatic in terms of dealing with that anger. Chore had his back turned to her, his eyes looking down at his phone. Anarchy pressed her fist against her palm to crack her knu

ckles, seconds before she reached out toward him.

The purple crayon's eyes opened wide as she felt something tug her so hard that she spun around. Conner had grabbed the end of her cape, yanking her to stand beside him and Nellie.

"Don't blow this for us," Conner whispered over to her. "Just keep your eyes open. Wherever there's politicians, trouble always seems to follow. Lady Justice needs you to fight for her today, and not be the aforementioned trouble."

"Wow, aforementioned. That's a big word for such a small brain." The glare that followed was stone cold and would put any angsty teenager to shame.

Anarchy's eyes narrowed once again, this time toward her. A hand had stuck itself in her personal space bubble, as if it wanted a hand shake. She looked up at the person the hand belong to, and felt her cheeks flush red. She'd never admit it, but Pearson made her melt like butter in a frying pan over a camp fire. "You must be Anarchy. Big fan of your work, we've been following you closely and keeping a careful eye on you. I've never actually met a mass murderer in person without arresting them. But you're lucky that the president doesn't want you behind bars..yet."

The Crayon's eyes beamed with a mixture of pride and fifth grade embarrassment. "Well I *ahem* thank you, sir," She said as she weakly shook his hand. "That has to be the sweetest thing anybody has said to me in a while now."

"...right. Very well. President Taffer is just about ready to begin, so let's get our game faces on shall we, ladies and gentleman." Pearson clasped his hands together and made his way backstage once again. Conner's mouth sputtered before breaking into a fit of laughter. It wasn't just subtle laughter, but hysterical howls that even made the secret service look at him as if he was troubled.

"Oh yeah Anarchy, I love the way you fill bodies with hollow point slugs. Oh Mr.Pearson, please buy me a wedding ring you have such a way with words. You sure know how to make a girl feel loved. Oh Anarchy, you should do that thing with the machete again."

Sometimes, he made it really hard to remember that he helped her find her brother all those years ago. That same mature man who had wrapped his arms around Nicole and took a bullet through his back for her, just because that's the sacrifices Lady Justice requires was now rubbing the back of his head from the slap Anarchy just gave him. It's understandable, though. He was a bit more of an idiot compared to back then. With the head trauma and beat downs that Anarchy had seen, on top of what she hadn't seen him go through, it would be understandable that he had the brain cells beaten right out of him.

"All I need is for you to shut your fucking mouth for ten fucking seconds. Do you think you can fucking do that? Please?"

Conner stiffened his body, bringing his hand up to the top of his head in an over the top, comically delivered salute to her orders. This resulted in her smacking him again. He didn't need to say anything to get on her nerves, especially when she was trying to think. He just did it naturally. It was only a matter of time until Nellie, Blair and that Transfer kid would start feeling the same way about him.

"Can I please have everyone's attention," Pearson said into the microphone that sat on the podium. "I would like to invite all of the superheroes that were involved in last night's events at Inova Fairfax to the stage, please."

Okay, the show was starting now. Everything looked clear down below; at least as clear as hordes of people could look. Now that the supers were being called up to the stage, the Blonde had a lot more observations to be making. The rooftops looked clear, except for maybe the kid who seemed to be watching over everyone else. It was time for little Miss Cooky to go into stealth mode.

"It doesn't look like you have any firearms," She said, standing beside Anselle. She had been watching those Dark Knight movies that Conner had loaned her, and she was absolutely fascinated at the prospect of disappearing and reappearing without being spotted. If it weren't her voice that gave her away, it was the mixture of mustard, salami and pickles that fell from her half eaten hoagie that landed right beside Anselle. "So I'm going to guess you're some sort of meta, then?"

With this many high profile figures in one spot, Conspiracy couldn't be too careless. She had to be as careful as she could be, and suspicious of absolutely everyone.

"Okay, so here's the plan; I'm going to tell you that it's time to dance, you're going to show me what your super powers are in an attempt to kill me, and then I'm going to take this," She held up her hoagie, and then switched hands to hold up her metal staff. "And shove it so far up your ass that you're going to go flying off the edge of the building. So let's just skip the tango, you tell me why you're watching everyone, who sent you, and then I'll knock you out, yadda yadda yadda you get the picture."

And to think, she could be at home enjoying her hoagie and watching YouTube videos about how the pyramids were actually made by millions of tiny ants controlled by psych oriented supers. But nope, here she was threatening some kid with a camera phone. Why does she even offer to help Conner anymore? It almost felt like she was bullying this guy, or harassment. She didn't really know the law very well, but she was able to say the sentence the rich elite are to blame for earthquakes in twelve different languages. That didn't matter though, this kid could have potentially been a meta-level danger toward everyone down below, and she wasn't ready to let that happen.

"Standing in front of you, lined up one by one, are the true heroes of the city. They did what the emergency response wasn't able to last night. Not only did they stop two rampaging threat-level four villains, but they went on to evacuate an entire hospital, fend off heavily armed perpetrators, and then won our hearts over with their valiant efforts. Ladies and gentlemen, it is my great honor to welcome president Taffer to the stage."

Perry didn't need to see Conner's face to know that he was smiling. It wasn't every day that he got to make new friends who could help him inspire a speech from the president. With all of the heroes up there now, they actually had a good looking team. Hah, team. This isn't a comic book. Did supers actually work in teams in the real world? Well, I guess that was all up to interpretation, really. Either way, together they all looked pretty good. Very

competent, and strong. It made Perry proud, honestly. He's known Conner way before all of this shit where he runs around committing assault and battery on people he deemed as law breaking asshole. Cracking skulls, as he called it.

With a grunt, Perry reached into his pocket and drew his cigarettes and zippo.

"Can you spare one, pal?"

Perry raised an eyebrow and turned around. His neck was too stiff to look over his shoulder, so he had to turn all the way around. His gut nearly hit the man that the voice belonged to, he was that close. What he saw was a familiar face which caused his eyebrow to raise once more. That jacket he wore...it sported the insignia of the police chief. The man held a McDonalds soft drink cup in his hands, which was kind of strange to use as an accessory to the outfit, but a man's gotta drink.

"Chief Wilkinson? I didn't think you started for another week and a half. I guess you really are a workaholic after all. The stories were true.

"I guess that's a word you could use," Wayne Wilkinson's Manchester accent called out over the roaring crowd as Taffer took to the stage. He took the cigarette that Perry offered him, and held out his McDonalds cup. "Sprite?"

Perry reached over, lighting Wayne's cigarette before lighting his own. With his lighter in his pocket, he took the Sprite and-no, that wasn't Sprite. He took a zealous gulp of it, and as soon as he did his tongue was assaulted with raw, unmixed golden tequila attacking his taste buds. Instead of making a sour face, Perry just squinted behind his glasses. "Very charming, chief. I remember back when I was in high school. I was too scared to openly drink in public too."

"Yeah, well, this place is crawling with police officers." The look Wayne shot to Perry mirrored that of a man who truly died on the inside, a smug "like I fucking care" look. "You're not supposed to start until I'm on the clock, what are you doing here?"

"I'm on my way to church," Perry's eyes rolled into the back of his skull. He motioned for Wayne to follow as he started walking. "I'm baby sitting. I was asked to supervise a security operation. I have a detective over there, and one over there, and a S.W.A.T. van three blocks away."

"I think they have a word for that; paranoia. You should find a better way to deal with your stress. People are going to start thinking that you have poor coping mechanisms."

"That's saying something, coming from the man drinking Jose Quervo out of a McDonalds to-go cup."

"Now, that's saying something, coming from the guy who drank seven pints between 11:30 and now, along with the pack and a half you've smoked since you left your house. That's what I call poor coping mechanisms."

Perry's feet stopped taking him any further. He looked over at Wayne as if he had just kicked his cat and stolen a box of ballpoint pens from his desk. "How did you know that?"

"I'm the police chief, mate. It's my job to know what my employees are up to."

As Taffer made his way across the stage, everyone began going absolutely nuts. Conner looked up toward the building he figured Conspiracy would be, and instead saw her confronting what looked like another person. Using his elbows, he nudged both Nellie and Anarchy. He would have gotten Transfer and Snowfall's attention, but they were a little too out of range for him. He used his finger to point toward the building without lifting his arm up, and tried to nod toward it.

Instead of picking up what Conner was putting down, Anarchy lifted her elbow and jammed it against the try-hard's ribs. He howled in pain like a stupid little three year old, causing Taffer to glare at him instead of starting his speech like he planned. He held his cue cards under the podium, and rolled his eyes as Conner waved at him. Clearing his throat, Taffer managed to engineer his best smile as he looked out at the crowd of people waiting anxiously to hear what he has to say.

"Looking out at all of your beautiful faces, I see something. At first I wouldn't be able to tell you what it is that I see. I was never able to put it into words. After last night's terror attacks, that something has been put into perspective for me. I see smiles, innocents. What I see in front of me is something worth protecting. Lately we have been having issues concerning super powered beings causing harm to this beautiful city, and the inhabitants. We have lost more police officers and emergency respondents in the past three years to metas than we have lost anyone-"

Conner was enjoying the speech, he really was. It was kind of calming to hear the man's New York, Italian sounding accent. There was just one problem. He spotted an aircraft hovering over buildings in the distance. Not just any aircraft, though. If he was right, which he was 95% positive that he was, that was the same aircraft that had picked up those masked soldiers from last night. "Alright, I've seen enough," Conner said, stepping out of the side by side line and moving toward Taffer. "It's go time. Snow, you and Transfer secure Chore and Pearson. Anarchy, you get the crowd broken up and out of here. Iron Head, you're with me. We need to get the president somewhere safe."

"What are you-" Anarchy saw the aircraft, and quickly caught on. She nodded to Conner, and made her way toward the steps of the stage. The secret service agents tightened up, shoulder to shoulder. "Would you get the fuck out of my way, you fuckin' fascists?'

Despite her own personal chaos with Anselle, she peered over the side of the building. She stopped some guy, just standing there. He was really well built, if she's going to be honest. Conspiracy likey. He wasn't even wearing a shirt, which made her need to stop and admire him even further.

The man raised his hands, and looked Anselle in the eyes. Without even flinching, a chain of explosions was set off throughout the center of the building, blowing the foundation of the higher level completely to pieces. Anarchy lost her footing as the roof began to dive. She almost wobbled over the edge of the roof, but managed to catch herself by digging her metal beating stick into the gravel of the roof and hoisting herself back up. The bomber man reached up once more, this time Conspiracy's staff found itself exploding. It just exploded in half, randomly.

How the fuck did he do that?

Anarchy found herself falling to the ground. She took a jab from an elbow right to the side of the head as one of the agents turned around, his gun drawn. The rest of the agents followed suit, their pistols at the ready and pointed at the heroes, and the men in business suits.

"Well, fuck. We've been bamboozled."

As the rain of gunfire began, Conner dove for Taffer,

wrapping his arms around him as he tackled him to the ground. That's when the explosion shook the entire stage. Conner looked up, spotting the building spontaneously catching fire. He slammed his hand against the stage, getting up as the gunshots finally stopped.

The "secret service agents" all started dropping their handguns. They removed any sunglasses or head wear, and started to strip off their suits. Underneath, was the same get up as the masked men from the hospital. The vests, the black dry fits and military pants. Then, they all reached under the stage and pulled out large cases, each filled with ski masks and automatic rifles.

The Night Watcher's head was spinning. How could this have happened right in front of their eyes? What the fuck was that explosion? How were these masked fucks seemingly everywhere? That's when the air craft started hovering over the front of the stage. No, it can't be. That blue costume. Those swords. That fin on the top of his head. You're supposed to be dead. Perry shot you.

Two figured jumped out from the inside of the aircraft, and right on the stage. The Night Watcher knew one of them, but he didn't recognize who the other one was. As Anarchy attempted to get beside The Night Watcher, the figure beside Finn put out his left hand, sending a massive shock wave at her. Conner dove away, rolling on to his shoulder and then back to his feet, which resulted in Finn seizing the opportunity and nailing him in the chest with a kick.

Anarchy was hit dead on, which sent her flying into the wings where Chore was standing. The figure, which would

later be identified as Sound Wave jumped up, landing right in front of her. As he landed he slammed his fist down on the stage, but Anarchy managed to roll out of the way just in time. "Can someone handle this guy for me? The Watcher needs a hand." She called out between breaths, sitting forward, and then throwing herself back. She posted her arms down, and managed to flip herself back to her feet. Sound Wave was back in her face with a punch, which she managed to push away. She followed that by slamming an elbow against the villain's head, then she wrapped her arm around his neck, getting behind him and flipping him over her back to the ground.

"Earnest?" Conner couldn't even get himself into a fighting position. Christmas morning, 3 years ago. No, he had to push the thoughts away. He couldn't let himself get caught up in the flashbacks.

"How's Julia, Conner? How about Hannah? How are you holding up? Glad to see you're not dead yet, because I have dibs on you." Just hearing him say those names caused Conner to lose his focus. He stepped forward, slamming his foot toward Finn's chest.

Finn quickly caught Conner's leg, throwing him off the stage. The fake service agents had dispersed, and began to spread across the downtown area firing automatic bursts of gunfire, attempting to do as much damage, and take as many lives as they possibly could.

 

[Elle Joyner]

Sabine​

---

Monsters.

Everywhere, monsters.

The world was full of them, slinking into corners and hiding in the shadows. Dark entities, filled with violence and anger, filled with hatred and malice. Scarred souls who wanted nothing more than to watch the world burn for the pain they felt themselves. Lurking. Sucking the souls from the good and dragging them into the depths of hell. Monsters. And she was surrounded by the worst sorts. Politicians. They wore fancy suits and talked all about change and protecting the people and progression, meanwhile they lied and cheat and stole and worse, clawing their way to the top of the tower over the bodies of the constituents they pretended to support. They peeled the humanity away from the government, sheets at a time until all that was left was their vision of perfection... and perfection always came in the form of power and money.

The man standing before her rambled on and on to his security chief about the rack on his secretary like Sabine had suddenly and conveniently gone deaf and all she could think about was how sweet his wife had been at the Christmas gala, and how disappointed his kids would be to find out their dad was a philandering cad. It took everything in her power, quite literally, not to flick on the mic system and project the man's conversation to the waiting crowd, but she knew better. Seen and not heard. Good impressions were votes in hand. Who you are at these events reflects on who people think I am, Sabine.

She could never be herself. Father wouldn't like that...

Today's cocktail of drugs consisted of several uppers - a method to drag her out of her usual funk and put some color in her cheeks. Funny. She didn't feel cheery. Just tired. And a little like punching a senator in the face. But that was hardly 'ladylike' and her etiquette instructor was a half-decent woman who would never approve.

A sudden scream pierced through her thoughts and blinking, Sabine's head snapped up from the spot on the senator's tie she was trying to bore a visual hole through. Then the single note of panic became several, and through the haze of medication swimming around in her brain, Sabine felt a twinge of something in her gut. The rattling sound... pops - like a giant stepping on bubble wrap... Gunfire...

Her eyes shifted, searching through the crowd of suit-clad, middle aged frauds for her father... Somehow it wasn't terribly surprising to find the man had already made himself scarce. Stay put. Shelter in place. Help will come.

"How's Julia, Conner? How about Hannah? How are you holding up? Glad to see you're not dead yet, because I have dibs on you."

Like a twitch, the words hit her. Just beyond the curtain of the stage, she could hear it... The taunting, mocking call. It wasn't her business. It wasn't her place. Stay put. Shelter in--

A crack. A muzzle flash. Blood splattering to the cold linoleum tile. Her mother looked like a Renaissance painting that morning... Her hair spread out behind her, a halo of light from the lamp over head reflecting in the crimson that pooled beneath her. They called it an accident. The thief had been caught off guard... Panicked. He was dead, too... Security put him down like an out of control coyote. Sabine didn't look at the body. She didn't care to. He was a murderer. He was dead.

His job was done.

Because thieves broke in. They didn't wait in Father's den. Thieves slunk around with masks and gloves. They didn't fire the gun and then rifle through the drawers and cabinets. Thieves weren't a part of Poker Night...

You didn't call thieves Uncle Carl because that's how your father introduced them.

And Mama... she knew too much. She'd come in. Kissed Sabine's forehead and told her she was sorry. Told her she wanted to get her out, but that there just wasn't time...

Now she was a Jackson Pollock. And Sabine was alone.

A hand. Cold. On her shoulder...

"...I'm so sorry, Sabine." His voice sounded hollow, "Come along. You don't need to be here..."

"I wanna help..."

"No. Sabine. No... Come on. It's not... it's not your place..."

Swinging the curtain aside with a sudden biting grip of rage roiling inside her chest, she stepped out onto the stage and her eyes flew to the figure with the dramatized fin upon his head. The source of the taunting. And a man, prone, a little ways away. A sitting duck. Another poor soul, who deserved better...

Not your place...

Like. Hell.

Closing her eyes, Sabine concentrated on the connection... It was always harder with the medication in her system, but today, she would make it work. Finding the thread, finding the man's tragic state of mind, she wrapped her fingers around it and forced every ounce of drug-induced serenity through her own thread, flooding his mind, pouring a sense of calm rationality into the man that would, with some God given source of luck, allow him enough time to get back on his feet... and have a fighting chance.

Then severing the empathic tie, her knees buckled out from under her, and she dropped back onto the stage, "Get up... Please. Get up!"

---

TAG | @Seductress

 

[Mobley Eats]

Benny Law | Location: Unity in Diversity Dance Studio ==> Press Conference | Interactions: Angie and Amy @Elle Joyner


"Awww... You sure you don't want any? I can, like, order veggie if that's the problem." Benny asked, deflating a bit at Amy's polite decline for pizza. He wasn't going to push or anything (forcing someone to eat and stuff? Sounded weird. Didn't Angie warn him to stay away from people who did that? Maybe... Eh, he was struggling to remember. Wait, what was he trying to remember? Didn't matter), but it still sucked. Basically meant that his new friend wouldn't be hanging around as long as he first thought.

Regardless, he waited patiently as she spoke on the phone. And by patiently, as patient as a humanoid puppy could be, which involved shuffling rapidly from one foot to the other while munching on a slice of pizza dangling from his mouth, wide eyes watching Amy curiously. By this time, Angie had emerged from the back and her brow arched a bit in surprise at the new face.

"Uh... Hey, there. What's the situation?"

"Phone call," Benny answered immediately, still shuffling.

Angie quirked an eyebrow. "O... kay...? Calling who?"

"An emoji."

A short beat of silence.

"...Excuse?"

Benny shrugged. "She's gotta call an emoji. She was, like, lost and stuff and needed directions. So yeah!" His smile suddenly doubled in wattage. "Ange! Guess what! She actually gave me a hug!" His dance partner was slow to respond; of course, she wasn't at all surprised by the fact that he'd invited a random stranger into the building. Despite his lack of... social awareness, she had faith in his ability to sniff out anyone potentially dangerous. Even more so in his ability to remove them--promptly. It was never anything too drastic or anything, just a quick strike to knock them unconscious and then dialing up the police. Well, except for when... Angie shook off the thought.

That was in the past and she never once held it against Benny. She never would.

Thus, she settled for shaking her head and grinning in amusement. "That's awesome, jumping bean," A quick glance as his still shuffling feet, "Not everyone can resist your huggy charm anyway." Whatever she was about to say next slammed to a stop, her attention falling back onto Amy as she wrapped up her phone call. She perked up a bit at the mention of the conference. "No fooling? We were just about to get comfy and watch that go down!"

Like flipping a switch, Benny's head popped up and a familiar shine gleamed in his eyes. Angie was just a beat too late to catch it and he was already racing over to Amy faster than a bullet. "Oh, dude! You don't gotta worry about walking or getting lost! Here, here, I gotchu!" Before anyone could blink, he pulled Amy into yet another cozy bear hug but failed to release her. Tongue poking out the side of his mouth in concentration, he peered at the blob of shadow underneath them.

"W-whoa, wait, Benny." Angie reached out. "You can't just randomly--"

"BYE ANGE SEE YOU LATER!" Benny and Amy plummeted into the depths, disappearing through the floor.

Angie rubbed her temples and heaved a sigh. "I love him... I love him..." Another sigh. "I'm gonna kill 'em."

}:{​

A random bystander at the conference was raptly attentive, hanging onto every syllable of the speech up until a noise erupted behind him. The early sun cast a long shadow and from it emerged two individuals. "H-HOLY SHIT!" the man screeched while leaping five feet in the air, alerting a handful of other civilians. They all stared in bewilderment as Benny popped out of the dark mass like a wack-a-mole, Amy still in his arms and beaming as brightly as ever.

"There ya go!" He placed the woman down, patting down her hair in case anything was out of place from the surprise warp trip. "Hope it wasn't, like, too cold or anything. Jumps are always weird like that... Eh, but it's whatever. You look alright." A pause. "Right? ...Right." Another pause--his brow furrowed. "Wait what's going on around here again?"

Then came the ground-shaking explosion.

"W-whoa! Dude!" He whipped around to stare at the crumbling building, then to the eruption of chaos unfolding on stage. Peeps were fight... guns were firing. Innocent people were dying. "Uh... Amy? Is this part of the event or...?"

 

[Mobley Eats]

Nellie King "Iron Head" | Location: Press Conference (Stage) | Interactions: Night Watcher, Pearson, Anarchy, President Taffer & Sound Wave @Seductress


Iron Head wasn't listening much, especially when she heard that tell tale tone of voice emitting from Night Watcher that spoke of "more paranoia shit that'll likely agitate Nellie, just like everything else in the world". She registered bits and pieces. Something about them being in an unsafe location, population too crowded, too high in headcount, too hard for trouble to resist. She... Okay, fine. She was actually hanging onto his every word while pretending to look elsewhere, but no one else had to know that but herself. Regardless, she could begrudgingly admit that Night Watcher had a point.

This kind of event was like a full blown buffet for any villain--one that was free of charge, at that. She could only pray that wouldn't be case, because she was still swimming through a lingering fog brought on by little sleep. Despite the coffee she'd chugged down before coming here, it still wasn't enough to put her on full alert--

"Hey, Iron Head."

Iron Head stiffened... then stiffened even more when the man's whisper hit her ears. Personal space. Personal space... "What," she muttered tightly, still staring at the throng of civilians. However, as he spoke, some of the tension eased from her muscles and she allowed herself to nod once. And roll her eyes behind the visor. "Chore's no friend of mine, but whatever." However, at the mention of another friend on the rooftops, she couldn't help the frown that pulled at her lips. "A friend with that kind of blood signature... Good thing it's on our side, then. I'll keep an eye out." And by eye out, she meant honing in on her nostrils as best as she could. There were borderline hundreds of them surrounding her, after all, so sifting through the bloody mist would take some serious concentration.

...Annnnd now another person approached. Some dude decked out in an undoubtedly expensive suit introduced himself, extend a hand for a shake and everything. Iron Head stared at the offered greeting... but refused to return it. She simply muttered, "Likewise" and nodded. She wasn't in the right mindset for friendly physical contact right now, especially not with a new face. She had no fucking clue why Night Watcher was giggling away, but she could only fathom that it had a childish root somewhere. She glanced Pearson up and down, not really noticing anything weird...

Oh... Oh, she had a hunch now. Heh. In that split second of thought, she changed her mind and reciprocated Pearson's handshake, her grip firm and formal. "Thanks." A pause, then she tagged on flatly, "Hanky Panky." Shit--hanging around that caped doofus was gonna result in the immediate decline of her filter, wasn't it? Well, did she ever have a filter to begin with? No. Not at all. So this was fine by her standards.

And why not go for a third presence? Might as well, since everyone felt the need to mingle on stage. Iron Head could only quirk an eyebrow as some irate female superhero stormed up the steps, the promise of an ass whooping leaking from her pores. Unfortunately, whatever entertainment this woman was about to unleash was usurped by Night Watcher's intervention and she managed to overhear a fraction of their whispers. Huh... Seeing him fill the role of "impulse control" had never been on her list of possibilities, yet there it was. Watching her trade pleasantries with Pearson was... weird. Why did her heart rate spike like that? For Iron Head, it might as well have been a drumming line going off inside her skull. Plus, her blush was far from stealthy.

Just like the agents, Iron Head jolted as Night Watcher exploded into laughter, but her annoyance didn't have a chance of survival upon hearing what he said.

"Oh yeah Anarchy, I love the way you fill bodies with hollow point slugs. Oh Mr. Pearson, please buy me a wedding ring you have such a way with words. You sure know how to make a girl feel loved. Oh Anarchy, you should do that thing with the machete again."

...

...

...

Snort!

Nellie slapped a hand over her mouth and pivoted away from both of them, desperately willing her porky outburst to simmer down before she wound up with a visage redder than Anarchy's. Do that thing with the machete again! Fuuuucking Hell, she really hated her sense of humor sometimes. And she definitely hated how it was becoming more and more apparent that her own was strikingly similar to Night Watcher's... Dear Lord. That was beyond unsettling.

Clearing her throat and slapping on a blank expression, she avoided eye contact with both of them and muttered, "Uh... Bless me. Got a cold or something." Seeing as how Anarchy had no problem slapping people in the head, she almost made sure to take a small step away from the woman. Luckily, further foolishness brought on by Night Watcher didn't happen and the conference finally unraveled with the beginning of Pearson's speech.

Eh... A bit flowery for her tastes, but it was far better than anything she would've said. Honestly, she could envision her own version of this speech. "Uh... thanks for coming and stuff. We're here to beat up bad guys and get paid for it. So... yeah, don't be assholes to us since we're keeping you alive. Cool. Where's the coffee." Then freaking President Taffer turned out to be even more flowery!

Dear God. When would this be over? Today--hopefully. Well, she supposed she didn't have to listen to begin with. Night Watcher suggested keeping an eye on the building across the street, so she'd do just that. With a twitch of the nostrils, she zeroed in on the building's scents once more. Of course, plenty of people were in there and pinpointing anything specific within that mass would be incredibly difficult. She had better chances monitoring the roof in case anyone bothered the "friend", so she did just that--

Wait.

"The actual fuck...?" Iron Head took a step closer, squinting at the object flying towards them. The moment it was close enough, her eyes widened. That militaristic body. The advanced design. All of it was so overwhelmingly familiar that she failed to suck oxygen back into her lungs. "Shit."

Agents whipped out their guns to aim at the heroes. Explosions rocked the building. Suits were stripped away, revealing similar masked assholes from that fucking hospital.

"Shit!"

At the same time Night Watcher tackled Taffer to the ground, a shield instinctively sprung up from the plates of her arm and protected Anarchy, Pearson, and Chore from the initial hail of gunfire. Christ. Christ. Christ! Everything was happening too faster; worse than that, it was all at once. She barely had a chance to register the appearance of two more threats that she'd never seen before, but Night Watcher clearly had some history with one of them. Earnest? Julia? Hannah? Who in the hell--

Fuck it. She could as questions later. But for now, she had to keep this wannabe Elf on a Shelf in check and secure President Taffer. Immediately, she morphed the shield into a pair of double-pronged whips and hooked them around one of the gunmen who were trying to rip holes through the civilians. One curled around the man's waist while the other forced its past his lips, yanking against his cheek like a fish caught on a hook. "Get over here," she growled (yes, a part of her may or may not have taken the chance to make a Mortal Kombat reference--Scorpion was her favorite).

With a vicious yank, the gunmen was flung into the sound wave emitter and his rifle was ripped free. Iron Head seized the weapon for herself and took up stance in front of President Taffer, eyes trained on the villain. Her trigger finger tensed, preparing to unload several rounds. "Stay behind me and stick close!" If the level of chaotic bullshit going off around her was anything to go by, saving up her strength for something big was the best move and she had no problem with popping a few rounds in some evil sound gremlin's ass.

 

[Elle Joyner]

Amelia​

---

A normal person would've taken to the unexpected shadow-hopping experience with great amounts of uneasiness and fear. The last thing they might've been concerned with was having messy hair. Amelia, on the other hand, was no normal person... not by a long stretch. It did occur to, because while she was a little flighty and definitely wasn't always the most observant, she wasn't stupid, that what happened wasn't ordinary. That Benny himself wasn't ordinary. But then, he wasn't exactly normal, to begin with - and that was glorious. Normal people were wonderful. But unique was glorious and beautiful...

And hey! She didn't get lost, after all. As he smoothed out her hair, Amy opened her mouth to thank him, grinning widely, before it clicked in her head that the sounds she was picking up in her peripheral hearing weren't the happy, jolly sounds of a throng of people enjoying an exciting experience. No... no, they didn't sound at all like they were enjoying themselves. And that was... well...

The explosion rippled through the surrounding area and Amy's eyes widened, hands covering her mouth in momentary shock.

"Oh... oh no..." Reaching out to take Benny's hand, not considering for a second whether or not it was appropriate, Amy turned to look around them. This wasn't... this wasn't good at all, and as the familiar sensation of anxiety built in her chest, Amy's cheeks flushed, grip tightening, "...This... this isn't right. Benny. We... we have to do something. We have to..."

Her eyes drifted behind him and widened slightly at the familiar flash of white and red... ducking through the alley... Of course. Of course, of course! She knew exactly what to do...

"OH! Silly me!" Looking to Benny, she smile and released his hand, "...It's gonna be okay. I'll keep you safe! Just stay near me, okay?" And stepping back, her form began to twist, to shift, to stretch. Tall and lanky, skin pale white, criss-crossed with red symbols, ginger hair twisting, tighter and tighter into horns that curled, antler like, claws curving from her fingers...

Rising to impossible height, the creature formerly known as Amelia stretched upwards, and peering over the crowd, searched for the nearest gunman. Spotting one, she hurtled towards it, and weaving and bobbing through the sea of panicked people, she hurtled close and with a swipe of the massive hand, swatted him across the street with a [nearly comical] squeal.

---

TAGS || @Mobley Eats , @Seductress

 

[Ragamoofin]

Synergizer | Location: Rooftops > Press Conference (ground) Interactions: Conspiracy, Bomber Man. | Status: Thoroughly Shook.

Anselle couldn't lie, Syn's upgrade to his phone was something else; the features were crazy - literally, Anselle couldn't recognize half the symbols, just having to click on them and fumble through list after sprawling list until he got a rough idea of what it did, and it still didn't make sense. But, hey, at least he had his songs. And honestly, that was enough for him. Beggers couldn't exactly be choosers of ultraphones, so there was that.

Anselle had the Watcher in his camera's sights again, this time within close company of a well dressed man. Anselle knew well enough that he was somebody, but his...name eluded him. Forgive him if he didn't remember everyone who wore a suit that cost more than his grandparents' rent for a year. Anselle's thumb tapped a few more times, just for good measure. It was a cool shot, from second glance. The superhero, the suited official, and the lighting wasn't half bad.

[Have you ever considered selling these? From my research, you can make good money as a paparazzo.]​

Anselle's mouth bent into a crook, shaking his head. "No way! That's super weird! A-and it's not like I'm using this for anything..." No one touched his phone, and he wasn't bent on sharing his shots with anyone. This was for his personal collection. Maybe he might get them developed, put away in a book or something. That'd be neat.

Out the corner of his eye, Anselle saw the crowd part enmass, sliding his phone towards the strange divide in the people. "Whoa, now..." Anselle's eyes narrowed, fingers sliding across his screen, zooming in at the figure at the center of the phenomenon. "Who's this?" Anselle snapped a few stills at the armored figure, imposing enough for the entirety of the crowd to spread around them. "Hang on, I remember this one, too!"

[Staying from the public eye is more typical of this one, if what we've read is true.]​

Anselle snickered at the sleepy memory, having laughed at how much people complained of the the armored Iron Head's attitude. "Oh, c'mon. She's a superhero! Just because she has blood po-"

[...Hemokinetic abilties, like-]​

"The diner?" Anselle's fingers were a blur against his screen, zooming closer, closer. "There's no way, there's no way, there's no way-"

She was looking at him.

Oh, what the fuck, she was looking at him.

Anselle fell behind the roof's ledge with a yelp, nearly dropping his phone in his hurry to duck away from the super's sights. Anselle held his breath, struggling not to tremble from the nerves flooding through his blood. "Oh, my god-"

"It doesn't look like you have any firearms."

Anselle's head snapped to the side, eyes growing wide as saucers at the masked, staff-armed woman snacking on a hoagie. "Wh-"

"So I'm going to guess you're some sort of meta, then?"

[She has no proof!] ​

Syn's voice was a roar inside his head; it was unnecessary noise to the static of his mind. He was blanking hard, the most intelligent thing he could muster was a dull: "Uh-"

"Okay, so here's the plan."

Anselle could only nervously nod through the woman's detailed, very methodical approach to just how she was going to kick his ass. The gesture with her pipe really sold it, in his opinion. He was was scared, now he was just terrified. Skitting backwards with a retreating cry, Anselle stuck his hands out, a protective gesture that left him cringing with his back to the ledge of the roof. "Wait, wait, wait! C-chill out, I'm n-not doing anything! I'm ju-just taking taking pictures of the heroes!" Anselle said in a rush, arms closing up around his head, eyes wincing close. "Please don't shove anything inside me!"

In all his wincing, Anselle peeped an eye open, staring down at the side of the building, and suddenly a quick jump down didn't seem all that bad...except, what was with that guy. Anselle blinked his eye open, staring down curiously at the shirtless fellow making deliberate eye contact with him. "Uh, ma'am?"

Anselle snapped a quick shot of the guy. His abs were killer.

And then, kaboom. Anselle felt the ground give out from under him, the resulting shock from the blast from somewhere below the roof, rattling up to Anselle's knees through the shifting gravel - Anselle's balance went out from him, throwing his arms against the ledge of the roof as the building began to crumble under them. "Oh, God!" Anselle cried, eyes tearing away from the roof, falling in, stony rubble and thick dust rising up quickly around them, aftershocks wrecking through the foundation. "Grab onto something!"

But there wasn't anything to grab onto, Anselle noticed. Everything was falling in, he could see into the floors below, the roof quickly joining the jagged and unsettled debris in the lower floor. They were gonna fall - Anselle's eyes fell onto the woman, growing bright, glowing.

She was gonna get hurt!

Anselle burst into a luminous visage, light pouring from him, compressing close to his skin, traveling down his shoulders, up his arms - outstretched, fingers just barely grazing the blonde as the roof gave under his feet. "Watch out!"

But all he needed was a touch, to connect, to protect. Anselle let his eyes fall shut, bracing himself and swallowing back his bile as he began to fall, hand drifting away from the woman. As he fell, a bond sprung into existence, tethering them. Strength, sudden and tremendous, would've flowed into the woman. Her senses sharpened, body more capable, her talents greater than ever before.

Anselle fell, he strained to maintain the bond, to give her time to get away, jump - something. He just had to hold it, just a moment longer. Just hold on, hold on, hold-

Anselle felt the bond snap, recoiling back like a lash, like lightning between him and the woman. Anselle saw the sky once more before he blinked, and felt nothing but -

Pressure, from all sides. On his arms, legs, chest- Anselle drew a harsh breath, a painfully shallow one. There were untold tons of debris atop him, its weight was crushing. The armor that'd formed over him saved him from the worst of it, but he was, for all means, quite trapped.

[Oh, God. What's happening?]

[Our fears have become reality. Anselle, we must act quickly.] ​

From above, and with a wince when the weight on his armor grew that much greater by the sensation of another blast from above.

[The crowd. Syn, we've gotta-]​

Synergizer struggled in the rubble, movements reduced to narrow wiggles, barely able to budge the debris. Anselle's struggles grew stronger, more desperate, breath becoming harsh, fast and frantic.

[Syn, I can't-]​

Anselle's breaths choked in a sob, armor becoming still as the rubble settled, trapping him in place.

[I can't- I can't breathe! Syn, help! I can't- I-I-]

[Yes, you can.]​

He couldn't, so Syn did for him. Anselle felt his lungs draw in a deep breath, forcing his arms to stop struggling against the rubble, stilling in the wreckage.

[Just breathe, Anselle. Breathe, and focus.]

[O-on what?]

[On us, on you.]​

His heart was thundering, pounding away behind his ribs. Anselle drew in another ragged breath.

[Focus.]​

Anselle swallowed hard, listening for his heartbeat, practically in his ears. His light flicked into being, hot, comforting through the shell of his armor. His heartbeat thundered around him, the tons beginning to shift from the audible beat.

Thump, thump, thump.​

A steady rhythm, beginning to slow, grow louder in his ears.

Thump, thump, thump.​

Anselle felt it rattle through his bones, rubble giving a shift around him from the vibration.

Thump.

Harder, louder, rubble breaking up around him. Able to move, breathe deeper, just about swimming through the wreckage - his heartbeat pulsed around him, shoving away at everything around him, clearing space for him.

Thump. Thump. Thump. ​

The roof began to shift anew, a prominent pulse coming from under the tons of rubble. That thunderous pulse, causing the gravel and loose dust to stir, only grew stronger, gravel bubbling until - a limb reached free, then the rest of a peculiarly armored figure - enormous in stature and bathed in the fetching colors of purple and pink, the figure's helm - an opaque face shield protecting their identity - snapped towards Conspiracy's precarious situation.

Yanking their legs from the gravel, the armored figure darted towards the woman, gather her up in it's arms and simply - leaping off the rooftop. They went soaring away from the crumbling building, Synergizer holding Conspiracy securely in his arms. During the short flight, Synergizer stole a glance towards the crowd, Anselle's eyes going wide at the sight.

"So, it's another attack...?!" Synergizer whispered, forcing himself to look away as he neared the next building, his jump taking him clear over the gap between the buildings. Synergizer landed with a burst of cherry light at his heels, standing tall with the blonde still in hand. "That guy's gonna bring this whole block down if he keeps this up," Synergizer muttered, taking a few steps towards the edge of the building, luckily still standing. Synergizer's helm peered down to Conspiracy, giving her a quick nod. "Let's make sure that doesn't happen."

Placing a foot on the edge of the roof, Synergizer took a final leap out, this time towards the ground. "Hang on tight...!"

It wasn't much of a warning, wouldn't make the fall any more enjoyable. Synergizer felt the wind whip over his armor as he plummeted towards the ground, feet first and coming in hot. His eyes shut at the last moment, bracing himself for the impact, knees bending and another burst of light traveling up his lower half.

Synergizer let Conspiracy down as he took in the event, helm shaking at the chaos that had erupted. "My God..." He cringed at the sound of gunfire, eyes narrowing in at the pandemonium of the crowd, his height allowing for him to have view of the stage, the Watcher and Iron Head embroiled in their own fight.

Synergizer took a step towards the frenzied crowd, screams and running people, blood, gunfire lighting up the air. "I have to-"

[Anselle, stop.]​

Synergizer froze on the spot, turning back to face the man responsible for the explosions. "I can't just-"

[If we leave him unattended, the casualties will only worsen. We must deal with him before we can tend to the wounded.]​

Synergizer focused on the shirtless man, fists balling at his sides, falling into a more combat ready stance. He sunk lower, fists raising up, aura springing to life around him. "Right, gotta take care of this guy, first." Synergizer's helm tipped towards Conspiracy, not taking his eyes off the Bomber Man. "Hey, no matter what, that guy can't get past us." Synergizer, light flaring into a fuschia pyre around him, darted off towards the Bomber Man, crouched low and dragging his hands through the ground - it raked the ground up, gathering shards of the concrete in hand.

"Yo, C4!" Synergizer sprung up, a flash of magenta on his heels as he leapt into the air. His aura grew like a neon bubble around him, flames giving way to a sudden and gargantuan dome, wisps of hot pink curling off the strange field he'd projected. Synergizer's armor flashed, light given off near blinding; in his hands, his aura transformed the chunks of cement, bits suddenly carved into longer, serrated shapes, Synergizer brandished the knife-like constructs a moment before launching them at the Bomber Man.

Within the field, the concrete knives were reduced to blurs, exiting Synergizer's space as near radiant darts, a rain of violet sparks from above. Field shrinking back to his armor, Synergizer kicked against the air, a burst of light at his feet enough to launch him backwards, putting ample space between himself and the combustion meta.

Synergizer landed on the ground beside Conspiracy, arm poised to snatch the woman up again if they needed to beat it - if this Bomber Man had any more tricks up his nonexistent sleeves.

 

[Sail]

"So, Kallen, time to hype yourself up for tomorrow...but what if something terrible happens? What if people start shooting? How do you save someone?" The newly birthed hero paced back and forth in his apartment; a quick sip of water from the bathroom sink, then a small bag of chips(the hot kind, his favorite) tossed onto the soft grey sheets of his bed. "I need a plan…"

If each person in the crowd that extended before him were a drop of water, he could maybe fill a sink. If each were a gallon, he could fill an Olympic swimming pool. Transfer was unsure if the amount of people numbered in the thousands, ten thousands or even millions. All he knew was it was far too many people to-

"'Erm, red suit. You a', a', a sup'hero?" A small child tugged at Transfer's leg, a soft smile plastered on her face. Her cheeks looked like little tomatoes, her golden hair tied back into pigtails. "Yes I am. They call me Transfer. Do you like superheroes?"

"Mmhmm. My da-da is a superhero. Do you know him?"

"No, I'm afraid not, but I'm sure he is very good at his job. I don't wanna leave you hanging, but I do need to get ready for the conference."

"I'll ask my daddy if he knows you. Bye bye Mr. Transfer." The little girl's mom grabbed her hand, thanking Transfer for watching her; "Oh sir, I'm so glad you were here, you have no clue how worried I was when she vanished on me."

The next series of events were quite out of place and in stark contrast to the innocent interaction of Transfer and the little child. A silence fell spread through the crowd, a series of hushes and whispers, as Vice President Pearson took the stage. "I would like to invite all the superheroes…" He took a deep breath, focusing within himself, feeling out for each nervous signal that fired, each chemical that pooled beneath the surface. Cortisol. Dopamine. Serotonin. Each chemical hormone had a name he knew somewhat well; "You know its kinda interesting how all my parent's teachings are actually useful now…" Taking a hold of one, he calmed himself a tad bit as he shuffled through the crowd.

...He jogged through the dark city streets of DC, looking for some shop that would sell pistol blanks. Once he had determined one wouldn't ever find that, he decided instead to find one of those cheap dollar store prank guns that shot off smoke. It would serve his purposes well; while at the store, he picked up a can of matte black spray paint. He had the rest of the stuff he needed at home.

Standing at the precipice of the stage, he could feel the warmth emanating from his fellow heroes. He could see the look of awe in many of the citizen's eyes-and in truth, he could even see the fear etched on some. Did they harbor the same fears he did? Did he think something could go wrong today? Did they think this was prime grounds for another attack, one far, far worse than the attack on the hospital? He shuddered, pushing his thoughts away from such a tragedy.

President Taffer's speech was nice. Kallen had been at enough conferences with his parents to tell if a person was speaking due to obligation or due to willingness; Taffer was a whole-hearted believer in the words he was speaking. Transfer almost felt a tear roll down his face. "Something worth protecting…yes, I agree."

And then, Night Watcher, calmly ushering the group to different tasks. But, why?

The question was answered in the worst way possible- the large building across the way began to collapse. One massive fireball that consumed the middle of the skyscraper, followed by a flash of purple light at the top. Another burst of color, this one coal black, nearly in the middle of the crowd. A strange set of people fell from the oval-

...A small patch of flint was now sown into the inside area of his left wrist. Three ping-pong balls filled with sugar and potassium nitrate with a blue wick extending from the top. He shoved them into a pants pocket, then headed to sleep…

Iron Head's crimson shield appeared in front of the group as gunfire soared towards them. "Pearson," he said, tackling him to the ground, "when I shoot, pretend you are dead." He reached into the pocket with the three ping-pong balls, grabbing all three at once. He struck their wicks in unison, tossing them to the ground. Smoke curled around the Vice and Transfer, momentarily shielding them from view.

 

[KatSea]

Snowfall

Oh, God, Blair thought she was going to be nauseous. She had never been a crowd person, never one for tight spaces or flying hands that shot from one corner to the next. Blair internally flinched as she bundled her cape neatly into her hands, keeping it secure from possible heels tearing into it and leaving her to have a two hour stitching session when she got home. God...there were wayyyyyy to many people around here! God, where those heart palpations? Oh, goodness...she didn't realize her heartbeat could hurt so much against his skin. Fumbling her way to the stage as she released her cape behind her, she patiently planted three fingers to her throat, counting each thumb that pulsed against the crooks of her fingertips. One...two...three four...five... okay, that was about ten in ten seconds. That's not horrible. Wooo...Good God, I hope I'm not trembling now. I don't know what's more horrifying, being in the crowd or seeing them from up here...Deeep breaths Blair. Let's go step two of the breathing method, right? Long inhales, long exhales. There you go...I know it feels like your face is going numb now...Breathe...breathe...

Snowfall felt her chest threaten to implode as a fickle gasp of air escaped her, her gloved hand coming to sheepishly cover her eyes as relief flooded through her. Thank God for her freaking mask...It wasn't like there were bundles upon bundles of people watching her saunter onto the stage, hiding a minor moment of panic beneath light blue plastic. She refused to allow the blunder to deter her from placing herself properly. She readjusted her hood over her mop of hair, relaxing one hand against her hip in an attempt to be casual. The light lump of metal reassured her, however, a constant reminder that her brother could be summoned with a click of a button. She knew it had been better to leave him at home, considering he had much more pressing issues to attend, and that he hadn't even presented himself at the hospital the day before...

Besides, (Blair would be damned if the true escaped her) she preferred if he remained in a safer environment for the time being. She loved the prospect of having her brother as a partner in fighting crime, but there was the remaining twinge in her stomach that wanted to protect him, that reminded her that he was her responsibility and that at any twist and turn...he should remain safe. Without the mask in hand, without the uniform snuggly secured around him. In some ways, she preferred the prospect of him never having to adorn the suit. He would surely scold her in turn, informing her very clearly that he was perfectly capable of being a hero in his own right. In her mind, before Torrent, Jem was her baby brother, a gift in the nightmare, and she absolutely refused to watch his skinny ass get whooped on a regular basis.

Biting back a smile as the thought comforted her, knowing she would get to tease him for being Jack Frost's Dumber Stunt Double the moment she got home. Concentrating on the second step once more, she channeled her breathing into something more constructive, rather than debilitating. Eyes gleaming with sudden excitement, she flickered her eyes rather up towards the blinding sun than the crowd of people. This was a trick she learned from Jem years ago when he auditioned for theater, stating the only way he could get over stage fright was simply blinding himself in the light. She understood it now, leveling her eyes, peace of ignorance corrupting her system. Fingers uncoiled from their clenched fists, a gentle melody erupting behind her skull as she drifted between Taffer's words and the world around her. An involuntary shudder creaked along her spine, crackling with the power and ferocity of an electric shock. Her mouth drooped to gape behind the safety of her mask. She didn't have to avert her gaze to realize the trickles of frost coating themselves along her gloves, the resulting icicles sharpened before she could even consider the repercussions.

An object began to obscure her sight of comfort, nausea sloshing in her stomach as realization slammed into her like a sledgehammer in her gut.

"Well fuck, we've been bamboozled."

With the spirit of Jem firmly lodged into her chest, she muttered. "No fucking shit Sherlock." Alright. To paraphrase, "No fucking shit sherlock" came with stammering, frustration, and a small squeak that was far more embarrassing for Blair to admit. Despite the sudden change of direction and horror that flashed across her face, Blair quickly rose her hand, snapping her fingers and allowing her power to go to work.



Flipping open the pouch at the side of her hip, water flowed to her fingertips and solidified into a malleable slush. Engulfing the nearest gun man's rifle as he raised it to aim, the slush encased the entirety of his weapon and slowly traversing up his arm. Within a matter of seconds, the slush solidified into a solid block of ice, weighing him down slightly into the stage. Quickly, Blair found control within the ice block, a scowl creasing her brow as sweat started trickling down her forehead. Raising the rifle in the air, as well as the man with it, she swiftly directed the block of ice to hurl into several of the other gunmen, hoping to knock the weapons out of their hands and them off the stage.

Bile crawled in her throat as she realized her hold on the frozen man's hands, disgust suddenly piling against her tongue. Ah. Alright. Deeep breaths...Get into your fighting stance and get this show on th-

Her blood ran cold with the ear deafening sounds that emitted from nearby. Foundations crumbled as the explosions rang across the nearby building, sending it flying towards the concrete below. Along with the possible people that were trapped inside...

Snowfall immediately found her sprinting off stage, rather descending the stairs, shooting straight off the platform and nearly twisting her ankle in the process. Even as her heel made contact with the concrete below, she found feel the swift and sharp pain traversing up her ankle. Gasping weakly for breath, she forced the throbbing sensation from her mind and forced herself into a hobbled sprint. Ignoring the pulsing pain that shot up her leg, Blair focused rather on the crumbling building before her. Thoughts shot through her brain at a rapid, light speed pace as she raised both of her hair, focusing entirely on the moisture that surrounded her. That coated her hands, that surrounded the entirety of the building before her. Groaning, she ground her teeth together as iron coated her tongue and the roof of her mouth. Keeping her blurring eyes trained to the concrete below, her shaking hands gave proof to the sturdy, glassy structure that began to seep between the cracks and fractures of the building's foundation. She didn't even know if she could hold this up for long, nor did she even know if it would save the people inside...But she knew she had to give it a chance...she had to give it one fucking chance...just to see if she could...

The muscles at her arms began to coil and tighten, stiffening uncomfortably as waves of dull pain rolled from head to toe. Making snow mounds and hail had been nothing for her, but now as she focused on each individual particle of moisture in the air, supporting massive weight that seemed to accumulate onto her shoulders. Go for the fourth step. Contractions. You got this, baby girl. Fourth step....that's it...in and out...

A loud crack slammed against her ear drums as she felt liquid drip from the corner of her cheek. Oh...oh God...that's...that's never happened before... Stumbling back, she placed one hand over the ear as it thrummed in dull agony, her eyes fluttering back as she pulled back from her concentration altogether, flurries of people becoming blurred as she tried to focus on the scene before her. Back arching as her feet seemed to implant into the ground below, a soft, red bubble trickled from her mouth.

Oh, okay, that's healthy...I don't think it's...it's any more than that...

Sucking her lip in between her teeth, she rested her hands against her knees and struggled to regain her bearings. Her head barely peeked up as she noticed her foundation was beginning to crumble, the ice shattering into pieces roughly a few minutes after Blair had conjured it. Seeing it begin to fall apart, horror spread across her face, shock freezing her in place.

A gentle grasp looped around her waist from behind, and with a sudden tug, Blair found herself forced several feet back, saving her skull from a piece of shrapnel that clattered to the road below. "Gah!" Blair finally managed to gasp out, stumbling back with the grip that accompanied her waist. Peering up, she noted a familiar, darkly hooded figure as he bobbed his head at her.

"Hey...I mean...I know there's such a thing as extreme sports and shit, but I don't think approaching an exploding building should be considered one...that's how you win yourself a goddamn Darwin award."

Snowfall, unable to respond at the sudden introduction, slowly managed to wrangle his hands off of her, eyes focused instead on the destruction before her. "T-t-then why are you here, then?" She managed to damn near whimper, eyes focused on the man responsible, as well as the falling heroes that accompanied him.

"Not here necessarily for you, Snow Queen." Tamer mused, his head swiveling to meet the stage behind him. "The actual fuck?" He mused, loudly enough for Blair to be able to hear him. Snowfall noticed his eye sight was locked on...

"Holy shit..." She hissed, Tamer's creature in full view of the stage as it tore through gunman after gunman.

"That's....oh, that's not good."

 

[Zerofighter]

Liz reaches the city, the sights and sounds filling her senses. Some people may have hated seeing the city from the ground. The trash everywhere. All the cars blocking traffic, and releasing exhaust into the air. The crazy people shouting at the corners of the streets. Overall, it would be described as chaos. Which wasn't wrong, but seeing the city above was different. It was always better seeing everything when flying. It gave her a wider view of everything. The air felt fresher, and it just made her feel free.The ability to fly, that was her favorite power.

Super strength, speed and durability had its perks, and is very useful. Especially when stopping a speeding bus. Speed made sure she was never late for work, and durability made sure she could take a hit. Her 'Sun-Field' gave her an extra layer of protection, and gave her punches an extra-oomph. But flying, that's what she enjoyed the most. It was a power every super should have. They should all experience what it's like to just fly. Stopping for a moment, Liz took a deep breath. A soft sigh escaping her lips.

Seeing a mass of cars nearby, she raised an eyebrow. Was the president doing a rally today? Or was there some kind of big state fair? Deciding to patrol the area, she noticed a strange aircraft. Something about it gave her an off feeling. Like it was waiting for something. But what can she do? She couldn't just knock on the window, and as the pilot what they were doing.

Reaching the area, her eyes noticed the heroes present.It was a Press conference for all the heroes! Then she caught a glimpse of a familiar one.
Night Watcher! Then she remembered last night. The fire, and the report of all the heroes saving the day. To bad, Sunspot wasn't there. Though her parents were home, and wanted to spend the night with her. Claiming they never get to have family time. Not that she didnt like spending time with them. Liz actually loved seeing her parents. But how could Sunspot make a name for herself if she can never get noticed?

Maybe….she could dive down on stage and introduce herself? Announce herself as Sunspot! The hero who is always smiling, a young girl bright as the sun. Defender of justice, protector of all that's good, and the bane of all villains!
Though, if she did that it might piss everyone off. I mean, what would Night Watcher and all those other heroes think? They might just laugh her off stage.
"Don't do that idiot….you'll just embarrass yourself…"
"Well what do you expect me to do Liz?"
"Well for one Liz, you can stop talking to yourself….again!"
"Yea I gotta stop doing that…"

Before she could respond to herself, the sound of gunfire filled her ears. Her eyes widened at the chaos below. Seeing the heroes burst to try and stop the chaos. "I-I have to help.." Her heart was pounding, almost beating out of her chest. This was something she never dealt with before. A store robbery, a few speeding cars, and saving kittens from trees? But this? This was something she never faced before.

"You can do this...you can do this Liz."
"Now stop talking to yourself and DO SOMETHING!" She snapped at herself, before diving down.

Reaching the ground, Three-point landing style. Her entire body glowed in its 'Sun-Field'. A Bright golden light coating her body, giving off an illuminating aura like the sun itself. Her eyes were like miniature stars.
Seeing the other heroes, she said "Umm hi, sorry for the introduction, but I'm here to help, you can trust me!" Though she knew it wasn't a good time for formalities. Crossing her arms over her face as a flurry of bullets were sent her way. One after another, they hit her Sun-Field. Only to be bounced off. Same old bullets, don't these villains ever use something new?