Vigilance: Blood and Justice [IC]

[Lord Wraith]

W

ith the fire subsided, the few available emergency services began to usher the volunteers out of the area as they subdued any remaining flames. The blazing red on the horizon had been replaced by the pale glow of the moon trying to break through the thick storm clouds as rain continued to pummel the ground, a bitter chill ripping through the air as hail mixed in the now freezing downpour. The nuclear plant lowered its alert status from red to amber as they remained vigilant against any further threats while workers coated the old workhouse in foam to ensure the chemicals wouldn't reignite.

As the impending crisis of the nuclear power plant going into meltdown had been avoided. Other parts of the city were still in a panicked state. Hitting the floor, Emilie Blake grabbed Armand De La Cruz while innocent civilians either fell in panic or dropped to the floor while bullets ripped through them. While it wasn't her preferred weapon, Blake grabbed the pistol a burst of light breaking the darkness as the gun men suddenly fell to their feet, tumbling backwards.

"Move Armand!" Blake ordered, hauling the younger candidate to his feet. "They're here for us, they'll leave the people alone if we hurry." Blake dragged Armand through the crowd towards the stairs. Grabbing the doorknob, she tried to turn it only to find it locked.

"Now what?" Armand cried out in panic as Blake shot him a cold stare. The sound of heavy footsteps were getting closer as Blake reached for the knob again. It opened with relatively ease as she shoved Armand through and the two emerged onto the roof.

"We have to jump!" Blake yelled over a clap of thunder, pointing to another nearby rooftop as Armand only stared wide eyed at the ground several stories below them, where the angry protesters were gathered with ignited signs and burning police cruisers.

"There's no way…" Armand said, his body becoming rigid as he froze with fear. Turning around, Blake raised her pistol, pointing it towards the stairwell as the door slammed shut.

"You have to jump Armand. No one can rescue us up here but ourselves."

 

[Lord Wraith]

LOS PARAÍSO, CRESCENT CITY: CLUB NEVERMIND

C

oming out of the kitchen in time to hear the new arrival's question, Ewan looked at the blonde woman. A faint smile crossing his face before the ring hung at his neck suddenly felt heavier. Having rejected the thought of flirting since Drew's death, anytime the urge arose, Ewan felt guilty about it. Drew was supposed to be here today, with him and Zebulun and Ewan wasn't about to move on. Let alone start flirting on the date that marked the anniversary of her death.

Zebulun hung back just behind Ewan, standing slightly behind his leg as he peered around it at the soaked woman. Zeb raised a small hand in a subtle waved as Ewan answered the question. He stared up at the blonde woman, there was something familiar about her despite never having met her. She reminded him of both his dad and mom, there was something about them that separated them from the rest of the people in the city.

"The bathrooms are just around the corner to your left down that hall there." He said pointing to the right side of the room. "But if those are soaked, I might have some clothes that fit you in my office." Ewan added eying up the dripping backpack. Though the girl was taller than Drew had been, there were still some articles which may fit her.

"I'll be over at the table serving if you end up needing the clothes. My name is Ewan by the way and this little guy here is Zebulun." Ewan pulled Zeb out from behind his leg, giving him a gentle shove to introduce himself.

"Hi" Squeaked Zeb. Despite his outgoing nature around people he was familiar with, the boy was rather shy with strangers. Letting out a small chuckle, Ewan picked Zeb up as he gave his son a high five and walked over to the table, grabbing an apron and ladle to help hand some soup out to those who had sought refuge in Nevermind. It pained him seeing so many people coming and going each night. The storm that raged overhead was like nothing he had ever read or heard of in all his life. Still though perhaps what bothered him most was the incident with Joseph. As Joseph had spoken to Ewan, his words almost seem to sear images into Ewan's mind's eye. Images danced in his head of lightning striking the top of Old Stone Mountain as the eye of the storm swirled around the mountain top before its fury engulfed the city below. He knew the resort had been closed but had never thought anything of it, but perhaps a trip up the mountain might be worth looking into.

Smiling at Zebulun, Ewan noted to himself that would be of course after ice cream and tucking his son into bed.

 

[Magical Caffeine]

While making haste as he crept on higher walls, Jace noticed the strange trail that the scent was giving. It seemed to be traveling nearby as its source kept on getting stronger towards his perceptions. He assumed that there were a variety of them but now it felt like it was toned down into two sources. Slowly, the path that he was following was redirected to where the scents made their way. It might have been the scents of the two candidates that he was looking for. However, there is a possibility that they may belong to different people and knowing that might risk his time before the damages are dealt and the two candidates are dead.

Regardless, Jace trusted himself and what he believed. Perhaps if he found the wrong people, he might force them to give out information about the candidates' whereabouts. Still, it was risky and time-consuming but Jace stayed at the positive side. As he stopped, he pulled his tongue out in the air in attempt to gather the scent molecules again. Then sensing the tracks of the scents, he noticed that they were making their way above. It led Jace to a confused state, knowing that he wasn't knowledgeable about the building's interior. He assumed they've gone to the building's roof but even that wasn't safe for him to be certain about.

Once he finished calculating the scent's tracks, Jace curled his lower body down while on the wall then sprung his legs to propel himself upward. As he leaped and landed, he grabbed a windowsill, pulling himself up as he reached it. Luckily its surface was wide enough for him to stand on and once he did, he opened the glass shutters as he made his way out. He jumped to a ledge that was a few inches down below then as he landed, he walked cautiously on the surface while leaning against the wall. Towards its far end, there was a metal pipe connecting to the upper structure of the building. Jace immediately brought his arms and grabbed the pipe as he started climbing towards the path it was leading. Despite the heavy rainfall, Jace still have the scents on his tracks and much to his surprise, it was getting stronger. Perhaps they were truly making their way towards the roof but comprehending the reason behind it made Jace's mind crumble slightly.

After reaching the last inch of the pipe ending on the roof's ridge, Jace's senses felt a definite tinge of the scent. They were nearby but it wasn't yet certain whether or not they were the people he was looking for. That was when he pulled his sights over and listed two individuals who emerged in distressed movements. They stopped as the rooftop door closed after them, giving Jace a brief moment to scrutinize if they truly were the people he was looking for. Distinguishing the looks he had caught on TV, it was safe to say it was them.

"There's no way…"

Jace heard a grumbling voice of a man. It sounded the same with the drunk police officer he encountered earlier before he delivered him a punch straight to the gut.

"You have to jump Armand. No one can rescue us up here but ourselves."

Another one added and it was coming from the female who ran right beside him as they made their way at the roof's near edge. Jace knew that they were serious about jumping but for certain, making it to other side safely, appeared to be impossible. He pulled himself away from his position, dashing towards the two individuals from behind and stopped once he approached them.
"I'm afraid you're wrong." Jace slid himself between them in a monotonous attempt of speaking. "However, there is something you should both do before I do the rescuing and it is to stop the riots by speaking to the people."
Jace paused as he wiped drips of rain from his gas mask with his gloves.
"One of you here will be the new mayor of this town and it is your job to convince the masses that there will be a bright future ahead of them. Tell them what you should tell. It is your responsibility to make this city better."

 

[Blandman]

In all the panic that was going on, Daniel had unintentionally ignored the Hype who'd helped the desperate citizens. The fearsome roar of the blaze was now replaced by the pitiful groans of those who had been injured, or the last gasp of those who'd just inhaled too many fumes. With most of the fire dealt with and the proper authorities finally arriving, the PFB had set to tending to the wounded as best as they could. Big Mac, who someone seemed to have become de facto second-in-command approached Daniel, the man who'd silently been voted as leader of their little rag-tag effort.

"Seven of our guys in all. No telling how many workers. What should we do?"

"Seven..." Daniel cast a weary glance at his surroundings, lingering on the remains of fellow volunteers as they were covered with whatever was available "Tell the Ambulance service about them, they'll be able to handle their...bodies...respectfully. And give me their names Mac. I want to know all of them."

As Mac gave him the list of the deceased, the rain began to mix with hail and finally a rather gruff older man approached the two. His insignia defined him as a Captain of the official Fire Brigade, and he didn't look all too impressed. He sported an impressive moustache, which somehow emphasised the disdainful look he gave the two volunteers, looking them up and down with a grimace.

"So which of you two is responsible for this sorry lot?" he demanded, gesturing to the collection of volunteers who were now packing away their things, whilst some said a sorrowful goodbye to friends lost.

"T-that'd be me," Daniel muttered "I got them all here."

"Yeah, well, you got them all dead son," the older man replied sharply, thumbing toward the bodies "If the city weren't in the shit house I'd haul your sorry ass to city hall!"

"Now wait just there pal," Big Mac quite literally butted-in, putting his sizeable form between the fire officer and Danny "Where was your guys when that damn thing almost blew sky high? 'Cause I sure as hell didn't see none of ya here. Naah, too busy helping that poxy mayor I bet. All nice and dandy, while this man," he placed a firm hand on Daniel's shoulder "Well damn, he got up and tried to do something. Don't get much of that in this city no more. If you're gonna be takin' him to city hall, it should be for a medal."

The Captain was furious, flabbergasted and utterly taken aback. His cheeks turned an angry red, and Daniel could have sworn that his moustache began to twitch slightly. But as he and Big Mac entered a staring battle, he managed to regain his composure. And then, turning his head slightly, he noticed that the remaining volunteers had all stopped to pay attention. There faces were had a stoney determination about them. It looked as if they would protect the young man. The Captain let out an almighty huff.

"Just get the hell out of here," he growled "All of you! Get out of here and let us handle this!"

He stormed off back to his own men to help direct the last of the effort. Big Mac released his grip on Daniel and turned to face him. He had a grim look to his face.

"You need a lift home Danny? Plenty of room on me truck."

"Nah," Dan replied slowly "I think I'd rather go my own way Mac. Thanks in any case."

Just before he went to walk away, Mac spoke up again.

"You know Daniel, you made an awful lot of people here proud to live in this city. Ain't had a lot of that in a long time. They won't forget that you helped with that."

Daniel only turned back slightly, nodding sullenly in reply. They wouldn't forget what he did. He wouldn't forget the seven other names that would join his nightmares soon enough. As Dan approached his motorcycle, hood still up and, for some reason, mask still on he caught sight of the Hype who had helped earlier leaving the area. He hadn't properly thanked her, and despite any personal misgivings about Hypes, he knew it was the right thing to do. Going into a little jog, Daniel began to catch up with the woman and her new companion, as they talked amongst themselves.

"Hey!" he called out as he got closer. The man came to a stop a few feet from the two "Hey, listen, I'm sorry I didn't thank you properly back there. Was just a lot going on," he paused for a moment, looking between the two "Look, I don't need to know your name or nothin', or what powers it is exactly you have. All I need to know is that you helped these people. I guess...I just wanted to say thanks."

He offered out his hand.

 

[Lord Wraith]

A

rmand nearly jumped out of his skin at the appearance of the masked individual. He slipped forward slightly as Blake's hand shot out and pulled him back from the edge by his collar. Straightening the elaborate suit he had been wearing, Armand pushed back his now soaked hair from hanging in his face as he looked at the figure in disbelief.

"From up here? How in the hell do you think we're going to do that?" He waved his hands in a frantic manner as he began to pace. "I don't exactly have a megaphone in my fuckin' pants."

"Shut up Armand." Blake snapped as she nodded towards the figure. "I'll speak to them." She said coolly turning back to the masked figure. Walking towards the edge of the rooftop, Blake looked down at the chaos below before rubbing her hand against her throat. Several rings adorned the hand as she let go of her throat and pointed towards the crowd below.

"PEOPLE OF CRESCENT CITY!" Blake begun, her voice ringing out strongly, drowning out the constant rumble of thunder and the echoing of pelting hail and rain. "We must stop this madness, for it will only make matters worse. This city does not need separation among the ranks during a crisis, we need to stand side by side, hand in hand together. Hyperhuman or human, we're all in this together. If a Hyperhuman is behind this storm than they are not one of us! They are not part of our beautiful city. We need all the help we can get right now and we can't be fighting one another. Put down your signs, stop this violence and go home, go back to your families, indoors where you'll be dry and safe." With her last few words a gust of wind ripped down the main street extinguishing the fires and for a brief moment the rain seemed to lighten as the people looked to the roof of city hall.

A loud bang could be heard on the rooftop door as Armand urged Blake to continue to which she gladly obliged while gripping the pistol in her hand tighter.
"This riot was an orchestration of lesser men, manipulation by criminals! Tonight an attempt was made on our lives and these men still struggle to pursue us even up here! Your current mayor however was rescued and no doubt has his lot thrown in with the same men trying to kill us. I urge you to throw this puppet out of office and vote for those standing before you now. While Simmons was rescued, we have endured just like you the public. We are one of you and we need to know you'll be safe just as we want to be safe. Together let us end this madness and take back our city!" The crowd began to cheer as Blake turned back to the masked stranger, the rooftop door creaking and groaning as the door began to give way.

"How about you get us out of here now?"

 

[PlayingMonster]

Abby stared at the girl as she babbled about helmets with microchips and such, a frown of confusion slowly taking over her features. She raised her eyebrows as the girl cut herself off, saying that it wouldn't work. As she asked about the riots, Abby shrugged in response. "Well, the way things have been going in these parts recently, I wouldn't be surprised if things turned nasty."

She smiled as the girl picked up on her accent. "That I am." She nodded as the girl introduced herself. "You'll have to excuse me, but the way things are going around here, I don't want to disclose my real identity. But you can call me Will O' Wisp for now." Will O' Wisp was a name she had thought of for herself after much thinking. Part of her worried that it would make her seem too much like a superhero. The rest of her thought that that wasn't necessarily a bad thing.

"And yes, I'm a Hyperhuman." She frowned again as the girl's words fully registered. Her mind started piecing together some of the other things she had said, and realisation dawned on her. She felt her eyes widen. "Oh- so you're-"

She jumped as she heard someone calling. She turned around and saw the guy who had asked her for help earlier approaching. She listened to him speaking, and smiled as he finished. She stepped forward and took his hand. "I was just doing what I thought was right." She shrugged, still smiling beneath her scarf. Part of her wanted to pull it down, but common sense screamed at her not to. Just because him and Morgan were okay with it didn't meant that everyone in the area was, and she was pretty sure that more than just those two had seen her using her ability.

"I'm sorry, but I really should get out of the rain, and I need to walk this girl home." She said apologetically. With everything that had been happening, the rain hadn't been her biggest concern. But she needed to get out of it before it messed with her body temperature and she ended up getting hypothermia or something.

 

[Mook-LandStrider]

Morgan looked at the girl and smiled "Well, Its nice to meet you Will O' Wisp" She said before Morgan noticed that she caught on to the fact that she to was a HyperHuman. Morgan giggled "Oh- I-" was all she could say before she to nearly jumped out of her skin. Her face went pale and it was obvious that she was easy to frighten.

Morgan turned and watched as the two talked. She knew she had nothing to do with any of that so she just stood quietly. It was then that she began to think on many different things at once. She coughed suddenly to get her mind back on topic. She blushed slightly "Sorry.. My mind gets going and I need to set it straight." She said innocently before rising onto the tips of her toes. She went back down before running a hand through her hand.

It was then that she heard herself being talked about "I'm not a child... I am 17 and I am very capable of getting home by my own steam...." she said then realizing she was possibly being rude. "But... I cant turn people down... Uhmm... Who are you.." She asked the man before realizing that her father would be getting worried. "Ok... I guess I am ready to go then. My father is going to be worried..." She said before realizing that she was rambling again. "Ugh.. I hate my mind..." she mumbled.

 

[cider]

A cellar, Little Italy, New Lillith

Thomas Bishop sat very still. He was focused to the point of almost bursting. Sweat drops slowly made their way down his face, and he thought he could feel them trickling down his spine. He was seated in a plastic chair, a rickety table inbetween him and detective Frank Mahoney. The middle-aged man, about the same age as Thomas, sat in front of him was sweating profusely as well, his eyes flickering around the place as if possessed. Thomas was staring at him intently, taking long, calculated and heavy breaths. The detective seated across from him was overweight, though Thomas wouldn't call him fat. More importantly, Mahoney was one of those gambling men, literally speaking. Owing debts to criminals, receiving death threats, while trying to sustain a family wasn't a pretty affair, and much less so when you were working as a police detective, like poor Frank. Moreover, Mahoney's recent investigations had all stalled. It had been over two years since he last caught a criminal. Subsequently, Frank was in a very frail state. In short, he was perfect.
"Stay with me you bastard." Thomas mumbled as he noticed Frank was about to lose consciousness due to Thomas' invasion. They continued battling for a few minutes, Thomas trying to force himself onto Frank as the latter subconsciously tried to defend himself. And then it was done. Thomas felt a huge weight lifted from him his ribcage, and he could finally breathe relatively easily again. Frank's gaze now met his.
"Tell me what you will do."
"If Armand de la Cruz and Emily Blake survives the night, I will make sure I'm the one bringing them downtown for questioning in regards to the riots. On the way, I will take the 55th Street and stop at the corner of 55th and 86th as a truck blocks my way, allowing an uknown party to kill the candidates. I will take a gunshot wound to my shoulder during the fight, and to the police I will say that we were attacked."
"Which you were."
"Which we were."
"And why will you say this?" Thomas asked, continually piercing Frank's eyes.
"Because if I do, my debt will be paid and my family will be safe." he answered, his eyes watering.
"Yes they will, Frank. Yes they will."

Earlier, Thomas had contacted the De Vitis syndicate, and had managed to get permission to listen in on the ongoing attack on City Hall. With frequency in hand, Thomas had been driven around in his brother's car by his brother while he tuned in on the com radio and listened to the henchmen on site's updates as they closed in on the candidates. Thomas had conjured a backup plan if the first one should fail, and had asked De Vitis for a cop on the payroll, and while they didn't have a suitable officer for the job, they did give him Frank Mahoney - a cop known for his personal troubles, and a detective no less. A meet had quickly been set up at an empty cellar in a house the syndicate owned, and while he took a cab to Little Italy, he had ordered Josh to get to City Hall and stand by as De Vitis moved in on the candidates.

Now, as Thomas watched Frank Mahoney walk away from the locale while wiping his wet eyes, a voice over the com radio spoke up once more.
"We can't fucking find them, they must've escaped to the roof. We're heading there now."
Thomas sighed. It seemed his brother would have to come to the rescue once again. Picking up his phone, Thomas called his brother's number while rubbing his forehead. He was so god damned tired he felt like passing out right then and there.
"Yeah?" Josh answered. He sounded flustered.
"Did you hear that? The roof?"
"Yeah, I'm making my way to the roof of the building at Jefferson Avenue. It's two blocks from City Hall and have higher elevation. I'll get a clear sight from there."
"Good. Counting on you, Josh." Thomas hung up and leaned back. Even now, he was amazed how easily his brother spoke despite him clearly running up a bunch of stairs. Thomas was glad he had offered his brother the job all those years ago. He sure had a born talent for this.


Roof of the Clearstate Building, The Spires, New Lillith


Josh entered the roof and ran to the east side. The City Hall was clearly visible, and he saw a couple of figures standing on it. He sighed of relief. They were still there. He was worried they might have called a chopper or something, as it had taken him a fair few minutes to get on the roof. In his right hand was a large, unwieldy briefcase. He wanted one that looked like those the assassins had in the movies, but had never gotten around to it. Figured he'd never be using it anyway.
"You sure got that wrong." Josh mumbled to himself, as he set the briefcase down on the roof and opened it. Inside it was an L96 bolt-action rifle, mainly known as the standard issue sniper rifle of the British Army. Much like his brother, Josh felt connected to his home country, even though he had been an infant when the family left. It was a morbid connection, Josh thought as he assembled the rifle, but it did make him at ease. He had killed before, but it had always been premeditated weeks, usually months, in advance. This was different. It was sudden, and it wasn't the original plan. As such, Josh felt his heartbeat rise. He didn't like it, it would make it harder to hit his target. Had he been human, his heart would likely already be racing due to the race up the stairs he had just completed. Since Josh wasn't human, however, he felt uneasy that he now didn't seem to have gained the advantage he should have.

He mounted the scope, and lay down on the roof, the bipod stabilizing his aim. He fiddled with his scope, trying to get the focus right, before he found his targets. It was them alright. Emily Blake and Armand de la Cruz. Blake seemed to be shouting something. She must be speaking to the crowd, he thought. That's why he got there in time. That's when he noticed a third figure. He didn't recognize him. Looked young. Maybe City Hall security? Didn't matter. He laid his phone out in front of him speed-dialed his brother. Meanwhile, he heard the De Vitis gangsters over his com radio, shouting that they would reach the roof in a minute. He took aim on de la Cruz.
"I got de la Cruz in my sights presently, should I fire?"
"Is Blake there as well?" Josh noticed that Blake had stopped speaking.
"Yes."
"Then yes. Shoot them both."
And with that, Josh fired, hitting de la Cruz square in his chest. He cleared the cartridge and readjusted his aim on Emily Blake.

 

[Stein]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"I'm sorry, come again?"[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"Sorry buddy, we're not serving right now. Nevermind is opting to serve as a relief spot. Boss is a good guy like that," the man told an irate Sarks. He knew something was off when he walked in, it seemed...gloomy and not drunk, like a bar should typically be. All of the people looked sad and distraught, in a way that didn't lead to alcohol serving as the solution. Not to mention, the kids.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]Sarks raised an eyebrow, glancing around before responding. He waved his hand dismissively. "Relief spot for what? I don't see any bloody demolished buildings, tanks in the street or child soldiers razing through the damn city."[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"Are you serious!? Have you not seen the weather?"[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"Weather? This shit? It's a goddamn pitter patter. I swear, nowadays everyone's up in arms about the slightest temperature drop," Sarks sighed and put his wallet back in his pocket. A damn wasted cab ride, that's what it was. He mumbled under his breath, "The 40's weren't filled with this many sticks."[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"Yeah, because I'm sure you were there, pal. Look, I've got stuff to take care of here. I've already had one guy lose his marbles and I don't feel like dealing with another one, so I'm going to have to ask you to leave, please."[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]Sarks reached his hand out to halt the man, "Hey hey hey, where is this manager lad? What if I want to speak with him?"[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]The man shoved his hand aside and sighed at him. "You're not going to talk him in to serving you alcohol. Now, stop pestering me before I kick your ass out."[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]Sarks shrugged, masking his breath of irritation with an innocent eye roll. "Oh well then, I guess I won't be looking to donate to such a notable establishment."[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"Yeah, like you've got the money."[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"If only you knew." Sarks chuckled to himself as he tightened his coat around him and headed out the door with a dismissive wave to the bartender. If Val were here, she'd probably reprimand him for being such a nuisance. But hell, it'd been a twat and a half just getting in the city. Flights weren't coming in or out and he'd had to charter a boat to just to get here because of this storm, which he really didn't see the problem with.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"Really, it's just a smidge of rain," he said to no one in particular as he began heading to his apartment. Getting a cab here had been a monster, and he wasn't holding his breath on getting another one. The wind tossed his hair, more than playfully, and he tucked his head against the wind, trudging through the abysmal weather. [/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]--------[/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]Entering the door to his apartment, Sarks gave an over-exaggerated sigh of relief. The sight of dry terrain and objects seemed refreshing. His view of the city on the top floor of the building showed just how bad thing were. The entire city was in a type of dreary chaos of sorts. No one really traipsed the street casually, but there was a tension in the air. "Okay, maybe I misspoke. This rain is more than a pitter patter," he told himself as he took of his clothes to change. [/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]He and Valura had been living here for the past seven years and things had been rather nice in the city, though they didn't spend much continous time there. This rain, however, gave him pause. Val would have notified him about something like this happening. She probably would have suggested that he stay outside the city for the time being. But, the more he thought about it, the more he realized something wasn't adding up. [/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]He hadn't heard from Valura in a few days, which wasn't odd in and of itself, but… "This is definitely something she would have notified me about," He muttered to himself as he glanced around the room.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]He wasn't foolish enough to assume that Valura had simply neglected or forgotten to mention it. Over a century in this world had taught him not to be so pitifully naive. As he thought, he realized he hadn't spoken to her the last time he had checked in. It had been the temp in their office, he had been so busy that day it hadn't struck him as odd. Sarks had his own apartment in the city, while Val owned a home in the suburban part of town. He told himself that she had to be there. [/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]Moving quickly, Sarks headed to the office room of his apartment, reciting a small incantation. The wall to his left disappeared, revealing a small, pocket dimension room filled with artifacts. Swords, pendants, shields, cloaks and ancient tomes of unknown magic. They all had their place in this exhibit-type room. Soft light came from above and he made his way through the objects. Most of them he didn't use and couldn't, as they hadn't taken an affinity to him. He headed straight for the Glasses of Luma, donning them. Val would tell him to prepare more, but Sarks didn't have time. His anxiety and gut told him that he needed to get to her home ASAP. [/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]As he closed the entrance to the secret room, he donned a pair of old leather gloves, both with an ancient looking rune on both hands. He crossed his hands over the other and concentrated, feeling his hair prickle ever so lightly as the Nox responded to his mental beckon. "Bring forth to me, the Tools of my cursed Trade." A glow of light engulfed his hands and once it subsided, there rested his Conduit gauntlets. His incantation, though simple, saved him the hassle of having to haul the gauntlets everywhere. It could only be enacted by someone with magic in them or a magical object on their person and only with his specific phrase. [/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"Valura Von Bismarck, you better be playing a game of hide and seek with me," he spoke as he headed out of his apartment.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]------[/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]Sarks hovered over the lightly flooded area of the suburbs where Val's house resided. He wasn't surprised to see looters, but it still infuriated him nonetheless. There was a time, before he went back to his family home when he'd had to do the same in the midst of crises, but...this was different. A scowl set on his face and before he knew it, he was commanding his block to descend in to her front yard. The block disappeared and he landed as silently as possible. He seethed as he stalked toward her house, the door ajar and the entry hallway slightly strewn about. [/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]Her living room was a mess and the TV had already been taken down from the wall, further evidence of a looting in progress. Fortunately, Val didn't keep any magical items in her house, choosing to store them in Sarks' place. "Why the fuck didn't she listen when I told her to erect wards on her place? And she chastises me?"[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]There was a thud above him, alerting him to a presence and he made a dart for the stairs, moving swiftly and quietly. As he ascended the stairs, his hands began to warm from the Nox channeling through his gauntlets. He took a breath at the last step, his head barely over the 2nd floor railing and peaked around, to see two men rummaging through her upstairs office. [/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"Yo, who the fuck lives here? Ain't no pictures of family or shit. Just some broad and her man," the first male stated, obvious agitation in his voice. "Boss is gonna rip us if we don't have a good haul. No jewelry or anything. You'd think they'd be loaded livin in a place like this with no kids or shit."[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"Maybe they got a safe somewhere we ain't checked yet," the second male said. He waved his gun around carelessly, indicating the rest of the house. [/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"Yeah maybe," the first male responded, straightening himself from rumagging through Val's desk. He dismissively knocked over a crystal figurine. The crystal figurine Sarks had given Valura two years ago. He cleared the stairway, approaching the office. "Imma head downstairs and---who the FUCK are you?" The first male had making Sarks, making no effort to conceal his presence any longer.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"Get out." It wasn't a suggestion. It left no room for debate and Sarks didn't even given the man to respond. As the second male raised his gun and the first male fumbled to pull his from its holster, Sarks raised his gauntlet, palm facing the goon with his gun pointed. A Latch Block appeared and shot forward, enveloping the man's gun and hand. Sarks pointed his finger and waved. The block dragged the goons hand and body to the wall, where it promptly stuck.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]Sarks brought his hands together in a clapping fashion. As he separated them, a Combustion Block began to appear, growing in the width of his spreading hands. He pushed his hands forward and the block shot to the man. It exploded with concussive force on impact sending the man sailing through the window with a scream. He fired wildly as he flew threw the air and out the window, but Sarks knew what he was doing. With a quick motion, he sent a Base Block to intercept him and prevent his fall. [/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"What the fuck are you!?" The man glued to wall screamed. "You a hype?"[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"No," Sarks replied, directing the Latch Block to detach and slide to the mans head. His hands began to claw at the block, to no avail. "I'm just really pissed off." [/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]He swiped his hand to the left and the block, encased around the goons head, made an abrupt meeting with the floor of Val's office. Unconscious, the mans body relaxed and Sarks commanded the block to rise, following him down the stairs and out of the house. Once outside, he flung the block to the street, sending the man with it. [/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]As the block dissipated, Sarks looked up in time to see a group of people slightly down the street. Two brutishly big looking figures stood at the head and tensions seemed to be high. One of them was the ring leaders of the gang looting the neighborhood and Sarks trudged through the water, intent on finding out who. [/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"Oi! OI!" Sarks yelled, rolling up his sleeves as he neared them. "Who the FUCK is in charge of these piss-ants?"[/BCOLOR]

 

[Hillan]

Thomas Campbell -
15 minutes Prior to the shooting. -
The Spires, New Lilith.


Thomas had been making his way to The Spires through the heavy rain. His superhuman speed allowing him to climb the buildings and dash over rooftops and roads with ease. He could see City Hall, the rioters causing disaster, fire spreading from burning police cruisers and he saw several people face down in puddles in the street. It made it turn in Thomas's stomach, not because he hadn't seen death before, he was quite accustomed to the sight. What got to him was that most of these people were civilians. Both the victims and the would be criminals. They weren't thugs, nor were they trained operatives. Just regular people, people who didn't deserve to be faced down in the dirt or have the blood of innocents on their hands for the rest of their lives.

Thomas kept out of sight, leaping from one rooftop to the other as he made his way towards City Hall. He saw gunfire from inside City Hall, the flashing of bullets ripping through the place would be seen through the windows. Thomas grunted, pushing himself off of the ledge of the building he was standing on, diving towards City Hall. He came through the window, breaking the glass as he rolled on the floor to regain his composure. To the left of him, there were two gunmen, and in front of him there were another two. Thomas grabbed a glass-shard, the gunmen turning their attention towards him as they had heard the glass break, letting the rain in.

As the thug furthest from him drew their gun at him Thomas threw the glass shard, hitting the gunman in the hand, disarming them. The masked vigilante dashed towards the closer thug, none of them being able to react to how quickly he moved. Thomas grabbed a steady grip on the barrel of his gun, and then lifted his own leg, kicking the man in his leg, pulverizing his kneecap, before hitting him in the face with the bottom of the gun, knocking him out.

The thug behind him was still holding his hand and bleeding from the glass that was planted in his hand. Deep enough to be etched into the bone. Thomas turned from the man he had just knocked out, rolling to the side and avoiding a salvo of bullets, he positioned himself in such a manner that his opponents were in a row. It was clear to Thomas that these men weren't properly trained, but rather some low-level thugs.


He threw his gun at the closest thug, the thug blocking the weapon with his own, allowing Thomas to get close enough to the man to uppercut him with enough force to knock the man a few inches into the air before falling down out cold. Thomas quickly made his way to the last Gunman on the floor. Taking a few steps diagonally up onto the wall to the left of him, and then flipping over the gunman, landing behind the thug, whom reacted to Thomas's moves, and rolled forward, tossing his gun aside and drawing his knife. "Come on. Don't think your fancy moves will work one me, freak!" The thug shouted as Thomas smirked. Thomas took two steps forward, lifting his leg up as if he was gonna kick the man in his chest, but then twitching his leg, so his knee would be facing the left, allowing him to extend his leg fully, kicking the man in the face, sending the man to the ground. Thomas walked over to him and grabbed the man by the collar, and punching him out cold. Thomas walked over to the civilians, making sure those that were still alive would be safe. He calmed them down, one of the civilians pointed towards the stairs up towards the roof.

"T-They were heading up there..." Was all the panicked young man could tell Thomas, whom nodded. "Thanks." He said, flashing a smile. "Make sure to get out of there, take care of others. Please." Thomas asked the young man, whom nodded. Thomas dashed up the stairs. Hearing the smashing against the door. Thomas arrived to see two darkly clad thugs with guns rush through the broken down door. Thomas quickly sprinted up the stairs, getting behind the closest thug, he quickly swept his leg, and grabbed him by the neck on his way down, smashing his face against the floor of the roof, knocking him out. The second thug was turning around, but alas too late as Thomas grabbed him by the hand, flipped him so Thomas was facing his back, and jammed his arms under the thug's arms, locking him completely.

"How about you tell me who sent you.." The vigilante asked, the thug responded, albeit his voice strained from the pain of Thomas's grip. "Fuck you, puta." The thug said as Thomas pressed down on his arms, dislocating both of his shoulders, the sickening sound was muffled by the supersonic sound of the bullet wizzling past, hitting the male candidate in the chest. Thomas looked towards where the bullet came from, thanks to his enhanced vision he was able to see the outline of a figure, tall enough and with a build like a man, holding a rifle. He would have a clearer image, but the heavy rain prevented Thomas from seeing clearly. Thomas couldn't challenge that, not from here, anyway.

He turned to the candidate and realized there was another masked man there, Thomas expected a fight, but first of all, he had to get the candidate off of the rooftop. "SNIPER, GET DOWN!" Thomas shouted as he dashed towards Blake.

 

[Lord Wraith]

B

lake let out a startled scream before true terror set in as she watched Armand's body crumple from the impact of the shot to his chest. The body plummeted from the roof only to impact with the cold wet pavement below ending whatever life was still within Armand. Cheers turned to screams as panic filled the crowd and they immediately began to depart every which way. The momentary order erupting into unbridled chaos. Dropping to the roof as instructed by the new voice, Blake wasn't about to allow herself to be shot. Rolling onto her back she rubbed her ring as the clouds above parted as an unnaturally blue lightning bolt struck the antique weathervane atop the city hall. A thick fog spread over the area hiding the rooftop from the watching public below. The bolt of lightning released a powerful shockwave knocking all on the rooftop to the tiles. Managing to stand against the shockwave, Blake began to mutter beneath her breathe as her eyes emitted a violet luminescent glow in the darkness. Extending a hand forward, she could see the path the bullet had taken as a sheet of chain lightning exploded along it racing towards the gunman. The lightning struck the weapon, exploding it apart before hitting the shooter squarely in the chest. Vengeance for the unjust death of a good man. Hoping her 'rescuers' hadn't seen what just happened, Blake called out towards him.

"Don't let me die up here!" She cried feigning helplessness as she fought through the fog towards where the voice which had called out for her to get down had come from. Vigilantes were apparently becoming a norm during this storm and Blake would be sure to keep their help in mind come her next public speech. No doubt Simmons and the rest of his lot would be less than pleased by her rescue.

---

Releasing his hands from around the throat of the odd looking Hyperhuman, Tony turned to the sound of the new voice. Eying the slender man, Tony grinned wickedly, despite Sarks having a rather impressive height by human standards, Tony still towered above him, his much wider frame dwarfing Sarks' more slender frame.

"You best be findin' yer manners boy." Tony roared turning his full attention on Sarks. "You're in the Kings' court now. As for who da fuck is in charge, that'd be me the King of Kings." Tony growled as he took a step forward, using his size in an attempt to intimidate the smaller man. Years of experience had taught Tony that his size and strength weren't everything and for all he knew, the smaller man could be a Hype himself. While Tony may be bullet proof, he wasn't impervious to energy blows, mental attacks or his personal gravity being altered.

"I hope for your sake you're a Hype boy, otherwise I'm going to leave one half of you here and fling that ugly head of yours all the way to poor as dirt Kilbride. No one talks to the King that way." Tony growled as he charged Sarks, while it might have seemed to be a brash move, Tony had learned that people scarcely take time to react when an eight foot man is about to crush them. He anticipated that the man before him now would simply freeze and be crushed like many before him had.

 

[Stein]

"Good thing I'm a God among men," Sarks said as he took a running charge forward. The giant of a man propelled himself forward with fervor and force, seeming more like a rhino than a man. As he neared, he produced a Flash Block in the palm of his hand, darting to the side and shooting it for the other male's face. It collided, a sharp flash of light radiating out of it for a lingering instant, blinding the man and giving Sarks the opportunity to spin to his opponents side. He punched a two hit combo of Combustion Blocks in to the man's arm and ducked down, only to come up with another Combustion Block aimed for the stomach area.

He darted from the man quickly as the other reeled from the flash bang. Sarks knew he wouldn't be able to box him regularly from the size of him. And he saw he was right as he attacked. That skin was dense. The man recovered quickly and let out a roar of frustration, and chucked a garbage can at him. Sarks batted it to the side with a Base Block to find Tony upon him, left hook coming for him. Sarks had just enough time to plant his feet and produce a small shield of dense Base Blocks. He was still thrown from his feet and sailed in to a fence.

Sarks shook off the pain as he got ready for round 2. He was rusty from years of no boxing or real fights as he'd been streamlining his artifact hunting.

"Fine then," Sarks said, before running and jumping on a Base Block that was appearing. At the same time, the familiar yellow of two EMP Blocks greeted Sarks' eyes as launched both of them at Tony. He threw floating piece of debris to intercept the first but the second caught him on the shin, locking his joint for a moment. Sarks took the window to produce yet another EMP Block and widened it, pouring more Nox in to it. He jumped down, running forward and shot it at Tony. The block hit full on. The wet body became a conduit for the electric nature of the EMP Block and locked his body. Sarks wound up to deliver a finishing blow, but barely saw the incoming swiping fist. Tony was still moving! He ducked down, avoiding it and lobbing a Combustion Block at him. Tony shielded himself with one arm and punched out with the other. Sarks narrowly spun to the side, missing the hit and jumping back. He made some distance between himself and the behemoth.

"Now, this has been fun," Sarks smirked.

 

[Shroud]

Although he had only been in the sky for less than five minutes since leaving the site of the extinguished fire, Jackson was physically exhausted. The strain of containing the blaze all by himself, as well as the bone-chilling wind, unrelenting rain, and the newly begun pelting of hail was seriously affecting his well being. There was only so much the protective bubble of air he had formed around him could do against the constant, powerful pelting of the rain and hail, especially at the high-speed with which he was traveling. So he was happy when he finally saw the familiar site of his childhood home; 118 Gardner Street in New Lillith.

He had taken note of the general shape of the neighborhood he had grown up in while flying overhead, and was glad to have seen that the roads weren't completely flooded, and the homes themselves didn't appear to be vandalized. It seemed that, for now at least, Gardner Street had managed to avoid the damage from the storm, and any looting. Jackson touched down lightly a dozen feet in front of the house he had been raised in, taking a moment to give it a once over. It had been years since he had returned, not having set sight on the place since before his father's funeral. He was surprised to note that the yard remained trimmed, and the hedges surrounding the front stoop weren't overgrown.

Aunt Feona must have been keeping things in order around here, he thought to himself. Wouldn't be surprised if she's kept the inside clean, too.

He stepped up to the doorway, slid the key into the hole, and grasped hold of the knob. Jackson hesitated slightly before pushing it open. He reflexively flicked out his left hand to flip up the light switches and was greeted by a flood of memories as the entry and hallway were illuminated. Everything was as it had been; the antique coat rack still by the door, and the framed photos lining the wall. He lifted one away from it's spot on the wall, and brushed the fine layer of dust covering it away. Clearly his aunt had been preoccupied the past month and was unable to find the free time to stop by and tidy up. Understandable given the state of the city.

Jackson smiled at the face of his father grinning up at him. He remembered clearly the day it had been taken, his father, having just celebrated his first novel's publication, had decided to take Jackson out to the local amusement park and the two had taken many photos during their little adventure; Jackson's matching picture had a place adjacent to it on the wall. He fought back tears as he held the photo, emotions he had been burying inside of himself for the past few years bubbling up inside. He was conflicted, both regretting returning, and happy to finally be back home.

When Scott Noble had passed, he had left most of his wealth and belongings, including the house, to his son, but Jackson had never been able to bring himself to come back to Crescent City, let alone to his former home where there were so many reminders of his father. He hadn't exactly suppressed his emotions and the sense of loss natural after the death of a loved one, but neither had he been open to discussing them. Now that he was back, surrounded by all the memories of his father and they life they had had, he was finding he had little choice but to face those old emotions once more.

A sudden sneeze interrupted his reverie, and Jackson was reminded of the fact that he was still drenched from the rain; freezing, and exhausted. He hung the photo back on the wall and walked off towards the bathroom. A quick, hot shower to warm him and then a good night of solid rest would do him well in recuperating. Then, tomorrow, he could figure out a plan for how he would aid his city, and pay a visit to his aunt, Feona, who would surely want to know he was back in town. His right hand drifted to the chain around his neck and the object attached. Feona wouldn't be the only one he would need to talk to, and his heart beat faster in anticipation of the other.

One step at a time, Jackson. He told himself, stripping off his wet clothing and adjusting the knobs of the shower. First, let's make sure I don't die of hypothermia, then I can think about how to handle the situation with her.

 

[Olissa]

As the guy with the young boy answered her question, she noticed the little fellow give a slight wave. Smiling, Emma gave a short wave back before looking back at the man, presumably the boy's father or uncle or something along those lines.
Though the offer of some dry clothes was nice, and a legit option she would have accepted otherwise, she had her power, and a 'fake' bag. So no need there.
Unless the guy, Ewan, was making an attempt to flirt and invite her over to his office for other reasons than spare clothes. That would be an interesting theory. She had no intentions of taking up an offer like that, if that was what he implied, but the thought was none the less interesting, if not amusing.

"Hi there, Zebulun, you have quite an awesome name, you know that?" She told the boy, before answering to Ewan's suggestion. "Thanks, but I think I'll be fine. Plastic lining." She lied with a smile. Though he did bring her attention to the fact that her bag would be so soaked that the clothing would have to be wet too. Even with the plastic lining. She had been down that road before. "Then again, there could be a puddle in here right now for all I know." Emma laughed.

She waited till Ewan and Zebulun had walked off to pass around soup. She kind of had a feeling that there was something familiar about the guy, but she couldn't quite place her finger on it. Probably saw his face on one of the photos in one of the many files that she had to wade through for her 'mission'. Didn't matter. Getting changed was more important.

Finding the bathrooms down the hall she was directed at, Emma checked the stalls to make sure no one else was inside. With no one around she locked the door behind her. She dumped her bag on the ground, and her jacket beside it. Her clothing was completely soaked, save for maybe one or two dry spots. Instantly she sent her clothes back to her closet, leaving her in her vigilante outfit. It was going to be a pain in the neck to peel this off of herself.

It took a while, and Emma nearly fell over twice, but she finally stood in her underwear. Even though it would be very easy to just summon a new outfit, splash a little bit of water on it to make it look like the bag wasn't completely water proof, and that's it, the offer of Ewan still played in her mind. Not for any unsavory reasons, but simply to have an easy way in to strike up a conversation with someone. Maybe she could even figure out if there were any known hypes around. But that might be pushing her luck a bit too much.

The only real problem, how in the world was she going to be able to reach the guy, now that she was nearly nude. Her vigilante outfit was a bad idea, and putting on wet clothes was horrible. She still had her jacket, and if she summoned a skirt and got it slightly wet, she could just say her shirt was drenched.
Nodding Emma decided that was the best course of action. A wet jacket, and a damp skirt.

With her vigilante outfit stuffed into the bag, and dressed in her temporary outfit, Emma went out of the bathroom. It took her a little while, but she finally spotted Ewan amongst the people.
"Hi again," Emma said when she was near him, "My shirt ended up completely soaked, so..." She trailed off and bit her lower lip. "Does that offer still stand?"

 

[Goldmarble]

The form of Wade, released from the strangling grip, collapsed into the water with a heavy, limp finality. His knees buckling and letting him sway forward, sending out a wave of cold water as he slipped beneath the surface. Hitting the filth covered street below, Wade's body started reacting, as the vise like clamp that had closed his esophagus was released. The torpor-like state his body had shut down into began to wear off, the vascular muscle network began releasing, letting blood flow to his limbs once more. His brain began waking up, from a state that used far less oxygen than what was normal for a human, a state with extremely limited processing ability and nearly no awareness. Instinct caused his arms to flex out, to push him back to the surface of the water as his larynx began to pull itself open again, the crushed tissue starting to regenerate from the damage done, while all of the cartilage started multiplying, and growing denser, stronger.

As Wade broke the surface of the water, the humans of the gang stared in disbelief for a moment; nothing rose from having it's throat crushed like that. They had seen Tony do that same thing to several others, hell, they had done it themselves by stepping on and crushing the larynx. People needed surgery to recover from it, if they ever did. You just don't get up from that shit! Monty snarled, "Well. Looks like I get to pay this freak back myself anyways." He turned to Vinnie, "Gimme the fuckin' sword dammit, lets see if that is the real thing, or just a cheap piece of shit!" as he snatched the medieval weapon from his friend's hand. Unsheathing the blade, the cold steel glimmered slightly in the darkness, reflecting dim gleams of light. It didn't rattle when he shook it, so he took it as a good sign, and strode towards the hunched Hype, the others following him, waiting to see this test.

Before them, Wade crouched, his form heaving air deep into its lungs, and expelling it cycling stale air out. Blinking, he felt weak, his body slowly rekindling with the uncomfortable feeling of something worse than pins and needles racking across his body as trillions of cells screamed for oxygen. His mind was clouded, a dense fog of nothing was slowly giving way back to awareness. He hated this feeling. It was uncomfortable, and made him feel excessively vulnerable, an emotion he wasn't exactly used to. Something prodded his face to look up. He hadn't even realized there was someone, or something there. His eyes struggled to focus on the shapeless black lump that was before him. Shadows, shadows and rain. The figure moved, raising something up...wait. He knew that action...up meant down...He swung up with his right arm, rolling to his left slightly for balance, and felt a terrible impact on his right forearm, a sharp impact, the pain began drilling through vestiges of the torpor, bringing him back to his senses as he realized what was happening. He looked at Monty's face, an expression of disbelief run with wet rain, "T-t-the fuck?!" The blade had dug into the solid plate of enamel coated chitin, and stopped. The other men behind Monty were backing off slightly as they raised the rifles.

A snarling rasp of air ripped from Wade as he jerked his arm away from the stunned man, the blade still lodged in his arm. "Thanks. I will be needing this." Grabbing the edge with his left hand, he pried the metal from his forearm, before he surged. The powerful muscles of his legs helped him lunge forward, driving his right shoulder into Monty's chest, and up, carrying the stunned figure with him as the fire from the rifles exploded in the darkness, blinding their users as Wade bowled into them, his eyes rapidly recovering from the blinding flashes, he dropped Monty to the ground, leaving a splashing, sputtering man gasping for breath from his nearly crushed solar plexus. Swiftly, he began ripping the rifles from the grip of their owners, grabbing the barrels and apply brute strength to kick or shove the men in the opposite direction, he her screams of pain, and small, muted cracks that probably were the result of fractured fingers, or dislocated joints. Each rifle was then simply thrown over the shadowing hulk of a building, far from where any of the men who may have been left able bodied could easily access them.

Then, gasping, Wade collapsed to his left knee, his larynx still flared like a fire burning in his throat, his muscles still feeling the effects of hypoxia. He looked up, and glared in the direction of Tony, and the person who had sort of saved his ass. "Hey. Meathead." Wade called, his voice hoarse and strained, "Not the dumbest asshole, but you sure as hell ain't the smartest. If you're going to kill someone, make sure you do the job right. The first time." As his strength returned again, the air flowing into his lungs and the oxygen reaching his muscles, he stood. "I got a second lesson for you. Come here and I'll teach you." He swung the straight-bladed, knightly weapon to his shoulder casually, as he started simply walking towards the figure. Sure, he had no skill with a sword, never used one in his life before, but it didn't take an expert to know how to shove a pointy stick into a flesh target. Which was all he really needed at this moment. A tool to give him equal reach as the gang leader, and a way past his tough skin.

 

[Hillan]

Thomas Campbell – Angel

Roof of City Hall, The Spires, New Lilith.

Thomas held the mayoral candidate down onto the floor of the roof, covering her from the view of the sniper with his back, as Thomas knew that he himself would at least have a chance of surviving getting shot. He did not feel, or hear a second bullet come, much to his surprise. He turned his head back towards where the sniper had been, just as the sky erupted into a blinding bolt of lightning that traveled right for the assassin. Hitting the barrel of the gun and traveling through it, hitting the man.

"Divine Intervention.. This would be the time to start getting lucky.." Thomas said, with a slight scoff. He wasn't naive, he simply figured that he wasn't the only one who was a guardian angel to Blake. He looked up to the other Vigilante. "You looking for a fight? Because there's a room down there with thugs who know it's not worth to mess with me." Thomas grunted, as he climbed to his feet, helping Blake up.

As the other Vigilante didn't seem hostile, Thomas nodded in appreciation.
"You were here first. Make sure she gets to safety. I'll see if there's something left of the shooter." He turned his heels and dashed off, sprinting across the rooftop, jumping to the next roof behind them, towards where the bullets had come from before. He made the five meter leap with no problem, rolling on the rooftop before climbing back up onto his feet and continuing running. He had to take it somewhat careful as the roofs were very slippery from the rain. It took him a few minutes to run the two blocks over the rooftops thanks to his speed.

As Thomas arrived on the rooftop, he found it empty. Cursing under his breath as the shooter had gotten away. However, it wasn't all in vain as he had left the rifle that had been all but destroyed from the lightning. Looking around, Thomas also found the case in which the shooter transported the rifle. Maybe the police would be able to find out who it was, or other clues. Though Thomas doubted it. He picked up the burner cell from his pocket and called the cops, telling them the details where they could find clues about the shooting at City Hall.

Thomas looked out from the rooftop, down on the street, and towards City Hall. The Rioters had all spread out, and the cops and paramedics would be able to get to the wounded and clean the streets up. There was nothing more he could do tonight. Instead, he was gonna head home.. His personal phone buzzed in his pocket. A text message form Tiffany. "I got done studying earlier than I expected. Can I see you?" It read. Thomas smiled as he replied with "Sure! Be there in 25."

Guess he wouldn't be heading home, then. First he had to get back to the garage and change his clothes as well as get his car before he would head to Tiffany.



***

The Next Morning.

Tiffany's Apartment – East City – New Lilith.


Thomas woke up at seven minutes past eight o'clock, laying in Tiffany's queen sized bed. He felt hungry, not uncommon after a night of moonlighting. He turned around and kissed Tiffany, whom was still sleeping, on the back of the neck. He would get up from the bed, and get dressed. Putting on his jeans and the T-shirt he wore when he came over last night. He would look around in the room, noticing how messy Tiff's bedroom was, clothes, make up and books laying all around. He picked up her book, it was about the LSATS and what it includes being a lawyer and working with the law. Thomas skimmed a few pages before putting it down. His father had taught him what it meant to be a cop, the instincts and the kind of judgment one would need to enforce the law. But he never had really gotten into the behind the scenes of the law.

He made his way to the bathroom to wash his face and shave. He smiled when he saw himself in the mirror, his hair being very messy from the rain last night. Once he got done in the bathroom he headed to the kitchen and made himself a bowl of cereal, while watching the news on the ipad Tiffany kept there. They were talking about the riots yesterday and how one of the candidates had been assassinated and the attempt on Blake's life. He would finish his cereal and turn off the device. Put the bowl in the dishwasher and then head back into the bedroom to grab another couple hours of sleep next to Tiffany. Thomas laid down on his back and as he did Tiffany turned around and laid down on him as he would soon fall asleep again.

 

[PlayingMonster]

Abby rolled her eyes. "Morgan, I'm not letting you go anywhere by yourself. Sorry, I better go." She said apologetically. It was always nice to meet people who didn't freak out about hypes. One of the janitors in the lab loved to go on rants about how they were "ruining the city and basically the cause of all the crime" while everyone else was trying to work in peace. He'd been forcefully asked to leave on more than one occasion.

"Right, so Morgan, where are we headed?" She asked, running a hand over her damp hair. By the time she got home, she'd need a hot shower and hot chocolate to warm her back up. Couldn't risk her body temperature too low and screwing up her body. Being practically in the fire had dried her off a little, but depending on how far away Morgan lived, she could get soaked between here, there and back again.

"God, I wish this bloody rain would just stop." She muttered, looking up at the sky. If there was one thing she hated, it was constant rain. At least she didn't have flooding to worry about. Because if her third floor apartment flooded, they all had bigger problems to worry about. Once the lab didn't flood. So much hard work would literally go down the drain. Which reminded her, she really needed to backup her hard drive.

 

[Lord Wraith]

LOS PARAÍSO, CRESCENT CITY: CLUB NEVERMIND

[DROP]L[/DROP]ooking up as he heard yet another man trying to get Bryce to serve him a drink, Ewan could only shake his head in disbelief at the patron's seemingly insensitive comments about the weather. Yet another alcoholic pleading for the drink, he would have been better off joining his fold over in the Lonely Hearts' Club or venturing into the Pub Crawl over in New Lilith. Giving Bryce a thumbs up when the man left, Ewan turned back to the job in front of him with a slight chuckle at Bryce exaggerated exasperated sigh.

Standing behind one of the tables set up for serving, Ewan couldn't help but notice by the longer line that the rain outside must have picked up as the steady patter against Nevermind's roof increased in both volume and speed. He noted several familiar faces through the crowd from previous nights but numerous new ones also littered the throng in front of him. Quite a few were sporting injuries, some of which looked like they had been shot or beaten. The gangs were no doubt taking advantage of the evacuation zones and after they had bled those dry moved on to the surrounding houses who were barely able to put up a fight. Ewan clenched a fist as his anger towards the injustice rose, the loud murmur of the crowd becoming an easy sound for him to manipulate as the soup in front of him began to ripple from the vibrations escaping his hand.

"Hi again,"

The sound of the feminine voice snapped Ewan out of his thoughts as he relaxed his hand, the bowl in front of him ceased to move as he looked up to recognize the blonde woman from earlier.

"My shirt ended up completely soaked, so..." Her voice trailed off as she bit her lower lip. "Does that offer still stand?" Ewan could help but smile at the woman, nor could he notice the way she bit her lower lip. Drew had always done that when asking for something as well, it had also been one of her tells whenever she was feeling flirty or mischievous. It wouldn't be uncommon for a girl to come into the club to meet Ewan or any other member of Extinguish/Ignite, but this girl didn't have the look of recognition when she met Ewan. She wasn't star struck like the usual crowd that tried to get him alone. That all said, her clothes were truly soaked and Ewan had made a genuine offer.

"Yes of course." Ewan replied with a smile as he quickly wiped his hands on his apron before folding it neatly and disposing of it in the kitchen before re-emerging. Pausing, he knelt down to speak to Zebulun quickly.

"Daddy's just going to run up to his office, did you want to come with me or hang out with Uncle Bryce?"

"I'll hang out with Uncle Bryce. We keep the root beer safe for you, Daddy." Zeb said with an assured smile as Ewan picked him up.

"I know you will Buddy." Ewan said with a smile as he turned to the blonde woman. "If you just follow me this way, the clothes are in my office on the third floor." Stopping to place Zeb down on a bar stool beside Bryce. Ewan quickly told him where he was headed. Taking a look at the blonde, Bryce shook his head while Ewan and Emma began to head up stairs. Letting out a low whistle, Bryce looked down at Zebulun with a smirk.

"Zeb, your Daddy is one lucky man." Bryce said with a chuckle.

"Why's that Uncle Bryce?" Zeb asked, his tone slightly confused.

"Uh." Bryce faltered as he realized he couldn't exactly express to Zeb that his father had a beautiful woman in private that wasn't the boy's mother, even if she had passed away. "Uh, because everyone wants to be friends with him Zeb." Bryce said in an attempt to save himself.

"Oh that makes sense." The child nodded solemnly.

---

The doors to the third floor had been locked while Nevermind was acting as a relief center. Pulling out his keys, Ewan unlocked the door as he held it open for the woman and locked it behind them in case any of the refugees decided to wander up here while it was open. Proceeding up the final flight of stairs, the pair passed a couple of the club's private rooms, each equipped with their own bar and isolated sound system. The hallway was lined with framed records for Extinguish/Ignite's various signals and albums. At the end of the hallway was the door to Ewan's office while just before it was it a window which allowed for a viewing into a small recording room. Unlocking his office, Ewan once again held the door for the blonde woman before following her inside.

"Just over here." He said motioning inside. The office had a distinct theme, dark wood and Victorian styling was a heavy influence in the large desk and various chairs. A couch was set against one wall and a large recliner nearby. Various screens were around with the room with a TV set up on a wall opposite a large bookshelf, and several monitors on the desk. Numerous instruments were placed around the room. Opening another door, Ewan showed the woman a walk through closet which led to a small bedroom.

"My late fiancé liked to have clothes for just about any situation. Hopefully there's something here that suits your style." Ewan said gesturing to the left wall. "There's also some other articles on the other side, I didn't need as much space." He said with a chuckle, before pausing. "But you might want to avoid the far end, the clothes there are of a more specific situation." Ewan added as he rubbed the back of his head sheepishly remembering the collection of various 'outfits' that Drew had kept for the 'late' nights.

 

[Mook-LandStrider]

Morgan looked at the girl and smirked "Alright... Well... Uhm... I live like twenty minutes away on foot. I sprinted here when I saw the fire first start.... So... I hope you don't mind walking in the rain!" She said. She turned and began to slowly walk with her. "Awh.. I don't mind the rain at all... Sure it may mess with things that... I well... Uh yeah. Things electronic in nature get hampered by water... Unless they are grounded." she rambled on while listening to her. She turned her head to look at her "Also, dont worry about being special. I understand that feeling to be honest with you. Back in Pennsylvania I was nearly outcast because I did something that no one saw be-"

It was then she realized she gave it away like he father told her not to. "Well, Damn.." She mumbled "I went and gave it away now didn't I?" She continued off the last little bit. She rubbed the back on her head as they walked "I didn't know there were many others that was special. Now that I pretty much gave it away... I have something unique about me as well." She said expecting a different response than what she would probably get. "People kinda exiled me... except for a few people... Everything thinks that when you have a mind you are dangerous. Well, just because I am pretty and have a mind doesn't mean I am weird." She grumbled as she just spoke her mind.

She then looked over "Am I bother you at all? I mean I just speak my mind whenever something bothers me without much thinking about how it bothers the other person. I hope it doesn't make you feel weird. I wouldn't want that...." She trailed off before just going quiet. It was then that she saw a nice car go down the street and her eyes locked onto it like a homing missile does a target. "Oooh... I want that... maybe later Ill..." She realized she almost did it again. "Why cant I just stop talking.." She continued while shaking her head.

 

[cider]

Roof of the Clearstate Building, The Spires, New Lillith

Josh Bishop may have had quick reactions, but he was taken completely by surprise as Emily Blake - the fucking politician - did something extraordinarily. If Josh didn't know any better, he could've sworn he was suddenly part of a damn comic book. However, through his scope he clearly saw Blake hitting the ground before getting back up, stretching out a hand in his direction, before an actual lightning bolt in the blink of an eye appeared and disappeared. Not before landing in his chest, however. For a few seconds, all he saw was stars. Then, slowly, he felt the rain pelting his face. As he became conscious once again, he drew a quick, deep breath. Had it not been for the excruciating pain suddenly radiating throughout his body, he might've thought he had been imagining what just happened. The rifle had exploded in pieces on impact, and Josh felt as if he had done the same. He had been sent flying a couple of yards backwards, and now slowly began crawling towards where he had been before, trying to reach the phone from which he heard his brother shout. He got a hand of it, and picked it up.
"That fucking bitch! That fu-"
"What the hell is going on, Josh?" Thomas shouted.
"She's a hyper! Blake is a hyper and she almost fucking killed me!" he shouted back. "I've gotta get out of here." He heard that Thomas was saying something, but didn't listen. Instead, he ended the call and managed to get up in a crouching position. That's when he for the second time in a matter of minutes saw something he could hardly believe. A figure was crossing the rooftops towards him at a speed that shouldn't be possible. Madness. He felt the adrenaline surging through his body again, and dragged himself up on his feet, before making his way down the many stairs, falling half a dozen times on the way as his battered body seemingly had no interest in doing what he wanted.

A cellar, Little Italy, New Lillith

Thomas stared at his phone. He felt his heart racing. He tried to redial his brother, but got no answer. With slow movements, he put down the phone on the table in front of him and leaned against it. Took a couple of deep breaths. What the hell had just happened? Dragging his hand across his face, he tried to think. Were the candidates still alive? And Blake, a hyper? What kind? He had to contact H.E.L.P. If Blake was a hyper, he needed to know, and the organization should damn well have made him aware. He snatched his phone and hurriedly made his way up the stairs, towards the street. First things first. He had to find Josh and make sure was okay. And that no one else found him first. Accordingly, he called Matthew Krause, the assistant director of security at Bishop & Wilkinson. Matt was a former FBI analyst, and typically responsible of practically organizing whatever directive Josh had been given. In truth, Josh was more of a glorified bodyguard, with Matt doing what Josh's job title actually entailed.
"Sir?"
"I need you to track Josh's phone. When you find him, have security pick him up. He should be somewhere around City Hall, and he might need medical attention. If so, bring him to Wilkinson Medical. I do not want this to leak, Matt, okay? I need this to stay quiet."
"Understood, sir."
"Call me when you've got him." Thomas ended the call.

He was now out on the street. Raising his umbrella, he began walking. Time for the next call. Using his other, disposable, phone he called a number. Three signals went out before it was picked up.
"Yeah?"
"It's me. Are they alive or dead?"
"The male is. Blake still lives. When the crew got up to the roof, she was already gone. Given that de la Cruz' body was still there, I ordered the crew to get out of there."
"So you killed de la Cruz?" Thomas answered.
"Didn't I just say so? He's dead."
"Good work." Criminal scum. Thomas wouldn't have expected them to be honest about it, but it still annoyed him. "Well, the work you actually completed, anyway. I want a sit down with De Vitis." Thomas looked at his watch. It would be dawn soon. "Tonight."
"I don't think that's possible, mi-"
"It damn well better be, considering our circumstances and what I'm offering. Contact me when you have the details." Before the crook had time to answer, Thomas hung up. There wasn't much more he could do currently. He had to wait for Josh to show up, then find out what had happened. If Blake indeed was a hyper... Things might change.

While hailing down a lonesome cab passing by, Thomas decided to call his wife. She answered immediately.
"God damn it Tom, were are you?"
"Love you too."
"I'm serious. Our beach house is flooded, a fire almost destroyed our home and I haven't been able to reach you for hours!"
"I know. I'm sorry. I've been trying to help the mayor out." Thomas got in the cab.
"Just come home, Tom. I'm heading back there now."
"I'll be there within the hour." he answered, telling the cab driver the address of the mansion in North City.
"How is he, by the way?"
"Who? The mayor? Like you'd expect, I guess. Shaken up." Thomas waited for an answer, but Ellen was quiet. "Ellen?"
"Tom, they're saying on the news that Armand de la Cruz was killed during the riots."
"What? How?"
"I don't know, they're running the story right now." Thomas had to stop himself from chuckling. She was watching TV in the car. While talking to him. You're clearly very concerned about me, he thought.
"Have you talked to Jennifer?" he asked.
"Yeah, she's fine."
"Listen, I gotta go. We'll talk later, hon'."
After hanging up, Thomas leaned backwards. He needed to sleep badly. Unfortunately, no matter what his body told him, it was more important to find Josh and hear him out. Then, he could sleep.