[Other OPEN] Capes [M] [IC]

Ice1 · Mar 1, 2017

Calvin Nanyemba A.K.A. Animator

It had to be an odd sight. It was dusk, the city lights starting to jump on, leaving Calvin, Fern and their captive Arena in the shadows between the light of the street lights. His com was buzzing with activity, as some major events were unfolding at the other side of town. An armed robbery, combined with a bombing. Hostage and Jailer had also taken their chance tonight. Enough cape activity to keep everyone busy. Luckily Calvin had been successful tonight. At least partly. Considering most encounters didn't lead to an arrest, capturing one out of three villains was quite the victory anyway.

He would have to talk to Bombshell and Seraph, though, as they managed to not only let the lamest villain duo in town escape, but also cause major environmental damage while doing so. They'd better be able to use the bombing as an excuse, otherwise he wasn't going to let them live it down.

Calvin felt a weight against his shoulder, as Squire fell asleep. The kid started to snore immediately, with a volume that could was too loud to be described as deafening. It wasn't the first time Calvin had a ward fall asleep on the way back from a patrol. It wasn't exactly common either, but sometimes the real young kids just had enough after a while. The rocking motion of the park bench they were riding was probably helping.

People stopped to stare, because who wouldn't when a walking park bench carried three known capes through the street. People were waving and laughing, and each of them received a friendly nod and a smile back.

Arena was averting his eyes, looking down at the steel balls that Calvin had formed around his hands and feet. The balls on his feet had tiny legs themselves, making it so they could stroll along with the bench.

"Not enjoying the parade much?" Calvin asked him.

"Fuck off," Arena sneered back.

"Not one for quips then? Could've been worse. I could've brought along Bombshell."

Arena met his eyes, shaking his head at the sleeping Squire.

"I sometimes wonder what's going around in that fucking head of yours, thinking you're the toughest fucks around. You know the only reason you ain't fucking dead yet is because they ain't taking this seriously, right?" Arena's voice was rough, raspy. It was the tone of someone who had been screaming all night.

"I like to think we're dealing pretty well."

The bench turned a corner.
"They don't care what the fuck you think. They're happy right now, living like kings in their nice mansions, but you realize how deep the shit you're in once that's not enough for them, right? Because this shit ain't the sturdy kind you wash away from the bottom of your shoe. This is the droopy shit you take after a night booze and indian food. And you need to swim to keep it from going into your nostr-"

"Imagery is clear, you can stop." Calvin leaned his head back, peering at the sky. Arena was shaking his head.

"You're not from here, are you? Like, you're new, right?" He asked.

"I've been here for a while."

"A while, but not a huge while. Don't think we don't keep tabs on the ugly mugs that run around here. You're too new here. I'm homegrown, you know. I know the rot that this city is built on. It's foundation, or fundation rather. You don't have no idea how quickly Fallcliff has gotten worse."

"Says the criminal. You know that a speech like this means I'll have to put you on the likely-to-escape list, right?"

Arena gave a wheezy laugh and shook his head again.

"I've conceded my freedom. I'm just going all in on avoiding the Birdcage."

"Probably a good idea," Calvin said. Arena wasn't likely to go to the Birdcage yet. This was his first arrest and he wasn't known to have any real grim blemishes on his record. He was mostly involved in robberies, the nature of his power keeping civilian casualties to an absolute minimum. No-one that wasn't involved with the PRT or a villain group had ever gotten hurt in a brawl with Arena. The Birdcage was for the real crazies and those deemed so dangerous that release wasn't an option. Epidermis, Deathcount and Reign Supreme were the kind of capes that ended up in that hell, because their abilities made them so difficult to combat.

As the bench entered the grounds of the PRT parking lot, Calvin got off, forcing Arena to follow along. The balls chaining the villain up loosened themselves and hopped away in the shape of rabbits.

With Squire on his back, the three entered the building, PRT officers greeting them. Arena was lead to a containment cell, forced to await his interrogation. A PRT officer came to pick up Squire, carrying him off to the Wards' quarters.

Calvin was met by Director Khadiji.

"Animator, I'm going to borrow you for the moment."
"Yeah, no problem," Calvin said.

In the director's office he loosened his armor. He left his mask on. Protocol. He would have loved to take it off once he was inside, but there were too many people going in and out this building that it would be too big of a risk. Most of the PRT employees weren't allowed to know the identities of the heroes. Only the director was allowed to know the identity of the Protectorate, something they didn't even have to reveal to each other.

Calvin would have been fine with a somewhat looser regulation, because he hated having his mask on. It obscured his vision and everything got this vague blue tint.

"Papillon's taking over your patrol with Reflex this week. There's a transport happening and we're taking over the Protectorate escort. It's heading for the detention centre, but it's stopping by the headquarters to get another prisoner. Two, apparently, now that Arena's been brought in."

"Yeah, okay, no problem. Which villains are we talking about?"

"Well, I've managed to include Arena in that convoy, which means I don't have to arrange his transport. Skeletal is also being included. The other two are Nuckelavee and the Smiling Man."

Skeletal was a minor Fallcliff villain that struggled to achieve much. Her powers were mainly disgusting and creepy, instead of effective. She was capable of bending herself at any point, no matter if a joint existed. When she moved her legs bent as if her bones were snapping with each and every step.

Nuckelavee was one he had never heard of. He would definitely have to check the files on them. Their name suggested they weren't American, but that's all he could say about that.

The Smiling Man was someone Calvin was more familiar with. He was still baffled by the fact that the man wasn't in the Birdcage at this point. A body count of nine people, as far as they could confirm, the madman had quite the murderous intent. He was a hivemind, capable of copying himself, surviving as long as one of his bodies survived. They had fought when Animator still lived back in Kansas. Only a week after appearing for the first time, the man had been arrested, leaving at least one body to be found every night. Calvin was photographed bringing him in but he wasn't much of an active part of the arrest. Half of his team went out every night with just the intent of catching him.

"Who else is helping?"

"I haven't been able to nail anyone down yet. If you have any suggestions, feel free to ask them. Your and Papillon's schedule were the only ones to easily change up. I'm only informing you now because I saw you coming in. The plan was to have this figured out in the morning."

"I'll hear from you in the morning then."

"Exactly." The director opened the door, signaling Calvin he had to leave. "I'm going to bid you a good day, Animator, as I attend to my other business."

Calvin nodded, moving back down the staircase. He considered for a moment to sit in on Arena's interrogation, but he decided he'd read the reports tomorrow. His time was better used finishing up his lecture on environmental combat he was teaching the Wards this week. The few hours of the day he would have left, he could hopefully spend with Nancy.

PastelPhoenix · Mar 1, 2017

Reza Shirazi || Freefall
Male // 18 // Hero

A Typical Day II

When it comes to being a cape, patrols were one of the things Freefall could honestly do with less of. Sure, reacting to emergencies was fun and all that, but most patrols were just so damn boring. To make matters worse, the constant status updates of other capes just reminded him how boring his route was. Cultural District was probably exciting for a lot of reasons, but crime rate was not one of them. Taking the brief moment of down time, he pulled out his phone to compose a quick message.

Rachel (15 minutes ago): it sux they have u workin so much. theres some sweet parties 2nite.

Me (12 minutes ago): I know T-T I need the money tho

Rachel (10 minutes ago): y cant your parents help more w/ your sis? no offense, but they seem like total dicks

Me (just now): I know, but they don't really support her. They're too used to how things were in the past and back home, and they barely tolerate how I act normally. Either way g2g, see you tomorrow.

"You know, you really shouldn't be doing that on patrol," a voice behind him said. Turning around, he saw it was just Shift, his teammate and his sidekick for the evening.

"I know," he sighed while returning his phone to it's protective pocket inside his costume, "I've gotta maintain cover stories though. Play the role of a guy with a degrading job."

"Guess that makes sense," she admitted with a small shrug, her robe carrying a little in the motion and catching a small breeze. "Not a big texter myself, so people expect me to be quiet for hours on end. Either way, we should probably get moving before anything happens."

"Please, nothing ever happens here. This is the worst patrol route for a reason."

"Sure as shit beats endless amounts of PR work though."

"Maybe to you," he said with a slight scoff, "but let's not have this argument again."

Returning from the alleyway the two ducked behind, Freefall modified his personal gravity to change directions and lower force considerably, causing him to gently rise to the roof of the nearest building. Once both his feet touched the asphalt surface, he did a quick survey of the area. Car parks, cafés, and small boutiques littered the street, with a rather large jazz club and the Museum of Fine Art right at the three way intersection.

Something about the Museum caught his eye though. The way the lights flickered inside was unnatural, plus something he swore was a person's shadow moved in the background. Remembering a flier about recent remodeling he saw on camps, he reached up to confirm with his dispatch.

"Hey," he announced into the built in microphone, "the Hendrickson's center is supposed to be having renovations, aren't they?"

"Yes," a female voice responded into his ear, "it's closed to the general public right now. Construction isn't set to begin until tomorrow, however."

Noticing the flickering light becoming gradually more intense, Reza made his decision. "Okay, I'm going in. There's something going on inside, almost like it's on fire." Closing the line, he peeked over the edge to make sure his partner got the report. After a quick nod in the affirmative, the two began to run towards the museum; Shift weaving through the walking citizens, and Freefall gliding building to building.

At the building, the two found the place still locked up tight, as if no contractors had arrived yet. Suspicious of the circumstances, Reza pointed up to the roof, signaling that he and Shift should try approaching from that angle. With a silent approval, he once again changed the gravity of him and the Ward, floating the pair to the top of the building. Seeing no obvious signs of intrusion, Reza scratched his head while Shift pointed out a large skylight.

Sneaking over, Reza noticed that a single panel was both vented, and currently unlocked. A thick layer of dust suggested it hadn't been opened in quite a while, however. A sharp tap on his shoulder got his attention, as Shift pointed out a pair of figures admiring an art piece while a small drone hovered nearby and a miniature fire burned nearby.

"Fuck, it's the Curators," Reza whispered, identifying the red suited man as Fiendfire.

"I doubt it's just those two then, unless Sketchbook gave them a drone without actually being there."

"Blink's a given, probably how they snuck in. Draw worries me though. Try and get the drop on them?"

"Sounds good," the white-clad teenager agreed, "look at you making plans!"

"Well, I am the full fledged hero here," he bragged, prying open the skylight.

"Just barely," she mocked, getting in position to drop at his command. "Just drop us silently, else this is going to go belly up fast."

Slowly counting to three, the two got into position to jump and have Freefall slow the descent. As soon as he reached two, however, the bandanna clad man turned around and went wide eyed,

"We got Capes here, from the skylight!"

"Shit," Shift shouted jumping into the hole, "DO IT!"

Slowing the fall just enough for a gentle, but not entirely silent landing, the two heroes split to opposite sides of the room and faced down the two villains. Drawdistance scanned the room, following various actions that were coming in the near future while Fiendfire combusted a small part of his body, his arm and back becoming pure fire. Remembering the drone and whatever Tinker-tech was likely stuffed inside, Reza reversed it's gravity and cranked up the magnitude. Suddenly finding its propeller no longer fighting against gravity, but assisting it, the drone flew up and smashed against the roof. Once the gravity effect faded after impact, it fell to the floor, chassis in two and camera lens shattered to pieces.

Fiendfire shot a large burst of fire from his arm in response. Reza felt the intense heat fly past his arm as he narrowly avoided getting hit. Suddenly raising his arm, he attempted to shift the gravity on the red-clad villain and throw him against the wall. Feeling himself suddenly falling, however, Fiendfire quickly shifted his entire body to flame and rushed forward a little bit, breaking the effect.

Shit, I can't turn the entire room upside down. Who knows how much this junk is worth?

A click sounded out from his right as Draw-Distance fired at Shift. No bullets left the barrel, however, as Shift apparently predicted the action. No gunpower even ignited, and if Reza had to guess, the bullet was now both wholly intact and wedged halfway inside the gun. Seizing the moment, Shift threw a rather thick vase at the bandito.

"Watch it," Freefall shouted, "that could be worth more than my house!"

"Don't worry," A woman's voice responded as a mess of colors appeared to catch the piece of pottery. And just as soon as she appeared, she was gone again. A sudden impact knocked Freefall to the ground, and various bits of shattered vase lie around him. "It's actually pretty worthless."

Reaching for his emergency alert, now that Blink has entered the battle, Reza was just about to hit the button when an explosion boomed in the distance. From the small shockwave, even from this far away, it seemed like a rather large one.

"That wasn't us," Fiendfire spat in response to a presumably dirty look from Shift. As close to a dirty look you could get in a mask. "This was supposed to be stealthy. A bomb is the opposite of that."

"He's probably right," Freefall reassured his partner. "Civilians and destruction isn't their M.O."

Suddenly realizing he was still on the ground, Reza scrambled to his feet and reassumed his fighting pose.

"I think that's enough," Fiendfire said, raising his hands up to show he meant no ill will, reforming his body again. His two gang members looked at him in what appeared to be surprise, but neither voiced a concern. "Consider this a truce. We're nowhere near cracking the security of what we actually want, and this could be an emergency."

"Awful… chivalrous of you." Shift said warily.

"Yeah, not really living up to the 'Fiend', but I guess the 'Fire' covers that," Reza added, receiving a groan from Shift.

"Now, now; We're not half bit thugs. Some of us remember the rules. Who would we be to benefit from a potential emergency? Just tell your bosses, normal channels if it is a real emergency. Now, take us home."

Several flashes of color later, the villains were gone. Giving Shift an order to put out the fire and make sure nothing was actually stolen, he opened a line with his support.

"Freefall with an update; we ran into The Curators and fought until that explosion. They got away after that, but said "normal channels" in case of an emergency, whatever that means. Nothing appears to be stolen, and the only bit of collateral damage seems to be a vase Blink didn't particularly like."

"Acknowledged, Freefall. Remain on standby for now. We'll let you know if we need you with that incident across town."

(Drakath) · Mar 2, 2017

Seraph looked back towards the bridge, now quite far away with no visible trace of the encounter from this distance. Ugh, you've gotta be kidding me. I had her! Of all the times for something like this to happen, it had to be now. Next time Jailer, consider yourself lucky. She slowed herself as she entered a cloud of smoke, now with more immediately important matters at hand. Seraph's visor lit up to help her survey better the area through the thick smoke. "My god," what happened here? The police had clearly arrived before the explosion as some of their cars were destroyed, burning and . There was little left of the building which she immediately labeled as "ground zero," due it being in immensely worse condition than the buildings surrounding it. The ground floor had collapsed into what she assumed was a basement, whilst the rest of the building as strewn about the area, leaving only parts of the walls and a good 10 percent of the actual building left standing. As for the closest surrounding structures, there were rather large holes taken out of their sides by debris. The rest were relatively fine as they had the closest buildings for cover. The street was hardly traversable with chunks of burnt concrete and flaming wood all over the place and the pavement in similar condition. The damage was less severe the further you moved away from ground zero, eventually fading away into normal condition as you exited the blast radius.

After surveying the damage, Seraph turned her attention to the people below. The citizens were mostly okay as they had likely avoided the building due to the presence of law enforcement. As for the police however, those closest were likely dead, most of the further away ones were visibly injured but nothing seemed particularly fatal. Seraph's eyes stopped as they passed over a steel golem. It took her a moment to realize that it was likely Ditto as she had recognized that particular figure from her key ring. Based off previous experience, she'd assumed the golem was incapable of communication and moved on to find a significant dent in a stone wall. The "dent" was more of a large hole with cracks spreading outward with a faint imprint in the center. The hole looked as if something pushed the wall in but couldn't make it all the through the dirt behind it, forming a strange dirt and stone mesh along the vaguely human imprint. A strange glint caught Seraph's eye. She watched what was actually a faint glow die down before realizing it wasn't a fire. Swooping down toward the object of interest, she landed and approached it, only to realize that it was no object, it was "The Speed Demon" himself Drakath, simmering with heat. Initially she wondered why he was here, followed by what had put him in this state. Why was his suit so hot? If anything it should be eternally cool due to the high speed winds. Looking back at ground zero, she assumed that the only way the metal plates could be so intensely heated is if he were there. He didn't deliver this did he? It can't be, he always seemed like an innocent child to me. Turning him over, she reeled in shock at the sight of blood dripping from behind his mask. Oh, no. After checking his pulse and breathing, Seraph picked him up and flew out of the smoke. Emergency vehicles were close by. She quickly flew to the nearest one and dropped him off before flying back to the site of the explosion to begin extracting the injured.

~~~

Sirens, engine noise, shaking, lights. Drakath came to once more because of a sting in his arm, and what started as groan became a gurgle as he briefly choked on what tasted like blood. He looked around to see two people performing various tasks, one of whom seemed to be making a frantic phone call, the other paying close attention to him while checking a monitor. He felt resistance when he tried to move his arm and looked to see an IV attached to him. Assuming he was in an ambulance of some kind, he deemed best stay put, close his probably colorblind eyes, and ignore the pain. He just let everything happen and tried to avoid thinking about his current situation, only to lose consciousness once more as an indiscernible amount of time passed.

-----

Relax, Jeanne. This could be anyone. If anything goes sour, there are cops and capes everywhere to help. the young woman thought as she drove through the streets of inner Fallcliff. There wasn't much traffic around here at this time of day, and she knew the city fairly well by now, so she could take detours to avoid it. Jeanne quickly willed herself to calm down, consciously lowering her stress level. She sighed in relief - much better. Now she could-

"Medic? Medic!" her car's radio cut off her train of thought. Jeanne frowned. She'd told Olson, the head nurse, to transfer all her calls to the rest of the team. Sighing in frustration, she pressed the button on her car.

"Medic reporting. What is it?" she asked calmly, hoping it would only be a mistake and the call could get redirected.

The radio crackled back on. "Reporting from Fallcliff east hospital ma'am, we have a parahuman patient in critical condition. We need support ASAP and you are reported as the closest-"

"Okay. I'll be there immediately." Medic interrupted, turning off the radio. She didn't need to know much else, anyway. It still unnerved her how the PRT essentially tracked all her movements and knew where she was at all times, but it was what she'd signed up for four years ago. She checked the GPS on her car - the hospital was only five minutes away. She'd still have time for her little appointment.

gimmepie · Mar 2, 2017

Hostage
AKA. Sebastian Medina

Truther Knows His Shit

Sebastian reached his and Anita's apartment building a bit later than he intended. Getting stuck in even the brief skirmish he'd had with Bombshell had cost him time and as a result had caused him to miss the bus he was supposed to catch. Another notch on the lame scale for Hostage. Sebastian was glad that the only one who'd have to know about that sad little ending to his escapade was Anita… who would undoubtedly be displeased with him.

Not only had he been the one to suggest they rob the university, but he'd neglected to tell her they were targeting a class that almost certainly contained at least PRT officers if not full-fledged Wards or Protectorate members and he'd lost his half of the loot in the fight with Bombshell. Now to top it off, he was an hour late. Him being late meant Anita would be panicking that he'd been caught or killed or something, especially after that explosion rocked the city...despite the fact he'd been nowhere near there.

"What the hell happened to you?" a voice said, jarring Sebastian from his thoughts as he entered the building's lobby. A burly man with a beer gut had just come down the last few stairs and was looking at Sebastian with suspicion and concern. This was one of the criminal duos neighbours, a kind single father who seemed determined to take Sebastian and Anita under his wing. It was a painful reminder that despite the fact Sebastian had outfitted himself in a nice pair of black jeans, a quality white shirt and a stylish black vest he still didn't look so great given that his hair was sticking up at weird angles and he was walking with a noticeable limp. In fact, he still hurt all over from the electric grenade that he been shocked by (twice).

"I got jumped by a couple of assholes with a taser. Decided to be the tough guy and fight back. I got tased and they took my empty wallet. If it makes you feel better, I'm pretty sure I gave one an embarrassing black eye." Sebastian continued to hobble forwards when his neighbours voice called out a reminder to go to the police. "Yeah, I'm going to go cancel my card now and I'll file a police report tomorrow. I don't really feel like dealing with the hassle right now."

Pleasantries dealt with, Sebastian took a deep breath and begun his arduous journey up the stairs. The apartment building was four stories tall with the home Sebastian and Anita shared being on the third floor. There was an elevator, but it was currently out of action until someone repaired something wrong with it. Sebastian couldn't help but be aware of just how much he'd have liked to have had access to it at that moment, as every step he took burned with the agonising fury of a thousand suns. He suspected that Bombshell's taser grenade probably had some tweaking to be done before it actually fit with PRT regulations for "non-lethal" weaponry.

Much later than it normally would have been, Sebastian reached his floor and made his way to his apartment. However, when he tried to open the door it was still locked. That wasn't unusual since Anita always locked the door, even when she was home. It was good to keep up the facade he supposed, but Sebastian doubted she locked the door for appearances. It amused him that a powerful cape like his friend was always so careful, despite knowing just how easily they'd busted through a much sturdier lock that same day. Sebastian dug out his key with his still shaking hand and unlocked the door. It was only when he finally stepped inside that something seemed weird. Anita still wasn't there.

They hadn't been sure who would arrive first, but it seemed doubtful that they'd both be an hour late without there being a very good reason. In Sebastian's case, that very good reason had been a grenade-toting teenager. That meant there was a fairly good chance they'd been being followed from the moment they left the college, which suggested Anita had also been forced to fight a hero cape. Sebastian staggered forward and collapsed onto their couch. He tried to convince himself that he wasn't concerned, but Anita was the one person he couldn't turn off his attachment too. He did owe her his life after all.

"Still," he yawned to himself "she's more than capable of handling herself." He hadn't realised how tired he was, but of course now that he wanted to be up and alert whilst he waited, he couldn't keep his eyes open.

Sebastian awoke with a jolt as the door shut just a bit more loudly than a person in a good mood would have done. He blinked several times as his vision adjusted, the blur clearing to reveal Anita standing over him dressed in brown cargos and a violently pink hoodie. Sebastian groaned as he sat up, his body still not fully recovered from the electric charge that had passed through it.

"You look like crap. What happened?" Anita asked, as though it wasn't obvious that she was extremely annoyed with him. Sebastian stretched, groaning again as he did so, before explaining how he'd been confronted by Bombshell within minutes of fleeing the university. He also took a degree of pride in telling Anita how he'd actually made his shitty power do something useful. "Yeah, Seraph said as much. Did I mention that I got chased by Seraph yet?" Anita said, her voice calm and casual but the pointedness of her question completely unconcealed.

"You hadn't, but I figured something important had come up to prevent you from being home on time." Sebastian said, inwardly cringing. He'd been hoping she'd just been hassled by some pimply-faced Ward or a low-levelled hero but Seraph was probably one of the most powerful capes in Fallcliff and she had a tendency to not hold back nearly as much as she could. It was a testament to Anita's prowess that she'd not only evaded capture but made it home without any visible wounds. Although, Sebastian noticed that as she walked across to the other couch her movements were stiff. He figured she'd have some nice bruises for him to poke the next day.

"I'd probably be being dragged off to prison if that building hadn't blown up." Anita said, stretching out along the length of the sofa. "Next time I tell you a job's risk isn't worth the reward we'll be getting, maybe you should listen to me. Especially if you're not even going to be able to hold onto your loot." Sebastian winced at that, he'd forgotten that he'd lost the bag during his fight. He suspected she'd probably rib him more about that later, for the moment though it seemed she had other concerns. "Speaking of exploding buildings. What happened with that?"

Sebastian took that moment to dig out his smartphone and bring up CapesOnline. The forum and attached wiki were a hub for cape geeks, perfect for finding information about potential enemies as well as for learning anything about cape-related events. He went straight to the news board for his state, and sure enough there was a buzzing thread related to the explosion.

FlightPack98 (Moderator)
About thirty minutes ago now, a building in Fallcliff where I live was ripped apart by an explosion and several surrounding buildings were damaged. No deaths recorded although according to the local news, there were several injuries. Apparently the explosion was caused by a bomb, probably not even tinker-tech but there were several capes on the scene. My heart goes out to anyone affected by the attack and to their families. I hope the culprit is apprehended soon.

Capes Confirmed on the Scene: Ditto, Blackout, Speed Demon and Seraph.

Sebastian continued scrolling through the thread, although it seemed nobody had any real information. There a little interesting speculation, nothing even remotely solid though. A rogue being at the attack was weird though. Sebastian relayed the information to Anita who just nodded at first, resting with her head against the arm of the chair and her eyes closed.

"Speed Demon's that delivery guy, right? The one who was meant to race the train." she said, continuing when Sebastian confirmed that "Poor bastard probably just delivered the package not knowing what was in it. Hopefully they don't cart him off to the birdcage or anything." Sebastian replied with a noncommittal grunt, not really caring all that much about some rogue. What he did care about though, was that he'd just seen his name in a thread title. Not his actual name, but his alias. The thread read "Hostage and Jailer More Dangerous than Originally Thought?!?!" Embedded in the first post in the thread were two clips. The first was security footage of his fight with Bombshell, already uploaded to the internet, the second was a video of Anita fighting Seraph taken badly by some person with a phone.

Truther
Two videos have just surfaced of Fallcliff villains Hostage and Jailer fighting the Protectorate/Wards. They've been kind of a laughing stock because Hostage's power is to attract projectiles (seriously that's it lol), if you look closely though they've actually got a prety high succees rate though and here they are going toe-to-toe with some pretty tough-looking heros. Could they have something to do with the bombing?

FlightPack98 (Moderator)
Hostage is and always will be a joke, but Jailer's actually pretty powerful. Surprised to see her fighting equally with Seraph and even more surprised to see her threatening civilians when by all counts she avoids casualties like the plague. Could be that they're escalating but I'd say Bombshell just got unlucky or was too cocky. I doubt they had anything to do with the bombing.

Truther
I dunno, they could have been trying to get people to think they're useless when they're actually really kickass villains. It's been done before. Hostage looked like he knew what he was doing in that video.

KoolKape3
@Truther lol r u fucking kidding me lol? everyone knows that hostage is useless. Bshell is never gonna live this one down. they'll probs fire her now haha!

Truther
@KoolKape3 Your grammar is awful. Trust me, I know my shit. Hostage and Jailer are getting up to some big shit. I bet they robbed the college to distract heroes from the bomb Speed Demon was delivering. It all makes sense when you think about it! Why else would they rob there of all places?

<HeatVision>
You know I think Truther might be on to something here
I doubt they were involved in the bombing though
Demon maybe

KoolKape3
@Truther @<HeatVision> lol fuck off. whatevs enjoy your tinfoil chat I'm out.

FlightPack98 (Moderator)
@KoolKape3 Seriously? I take a shower and I come back to you being an asshole again. We all know that Truther can be a bit of a tinfoil but you don't get to be mean over that. Last warning.

"Anita, you have got to see this. It's fucking hilarious." Sebastian found himself laughing, which hurt more than he would have liked. Not only had someone actually managed to get footage of him winning by himself, people were seriously considering if they were secretly in league with the delivery boy rogue in a bomb plot. It was truly a time to be alive. Sebastian chucked the phone across to Anita… or at least he tried to. It got about halfway there before flying back towards him and colliding with his head. "Ow… fucking power." The phone was then encased in a forcefield and very slowly moved across to Anita before the bubble around it disappeared and the phone fell into her hands. Anita took her time to read through the thread, probably going through several pages instead of the first few messages like Sebastian had.

"Wonderful." she said, her voice oozing sarcasm "I've pissed off Seraph, you embarrassed Bombshell and now a bunch of lunatics think we're a part of a terrorist plot with the train guy. What bad could possibly come of this?"

Desert Stream~ · Mar 2, 2017

It seemed like nobody could perfectly recreate the flight suit. Tinker or not, they always missed a vital part, and Lilith always crashed into something upon using it, except on her best days. Today was one of those days. She managed to fly halfway across the city before it ran out of fuel, and even then, she stuck the landing. In addition, she had found a few tinkers that were good at various things that might be useful in the future.

After she walked all the way home, she checked her email on her computer.
A few promotions for various brands, some spam mail, and some notifications. Nothing unusual, until she saw one that stood out. The email was sent by someone who was having trouble with some criminals and needed help. It seemed very unusual. Why would someone be emailing random people for help with criminals? Unless, someone knew who she actually was.

She decided to check it out. The email said to meet in a small alleyway in the innocence district.

Cactus turned her invisibility on, and waited for a few minutes. Someone eventually came.

"What did you want?" Said Cactus, still invisible.
"Show yourself." Said the man.
"Why?" Said Cactus.

The man pulled out a gun, loaded a few bullets, and started shooting the air around him, trying to find Cactus.
She however, activated the flight suit and hovered above him, before landing on him and knocking him out.

Cactus took the man's wallet, found a buisness card, and smashed the gun before returning to her house.

She had no idea who the man was, but she assumed it was someone looking to make a bit of money by capturing capes.

Foxrally · Mar 2, 2017

Status

Just doing her job

Prognosis

See list

Treatment

Blood shot, 2 weeks of rest

Jeanne Coutlas, Medic Magnifique

Suddenly, a rather rushed looking woman entered Drakath's room, making her way past the doctors with a simple flash of her badge. She was wearing an open lab coat with a dark blue dress underneath, and a badge with the letters "PRT" written on top.

"Is this him?" she asked calmly, taking off her glasses and setting them on the operating table. She took the sterile syringe bag that was put on there, next to the other surgical instruments, and carefully opened it.

"Yes ma'am." the doctor who had previously been tending to the young man lowered his mask. "Patient is a parahuman, with speed enhancement abilities, if that information's of any use."

"It isn't," Jeanne replied nonchalantly, jabbing the needle into a precise point near her wrist and slowly drawing out some blood. She felt absolutely no pain from the jab, as the nerves from the area had already been consciously numbed to the point it was as if she had pricked a dummy arm. "How long has he been like this?" she asked as she casually stabbed the needle into Drakath's neck, startling the nurse at the boy's bedside.

"Fifteen minutes since we found him." the doctor replied. "He is suffering from extreme head trauma, as well as-"

"-complete deafness in right ear, hearing loss in the left, monochrome vision, accentuated in right eye," the medic interrupted. "broken nose, cuts across back, mild carbon monoxide poisoning, common cold, second degree burns on torso and right shoulder, and…" she stopped and closed her eyes, frowning. "...one of your people wasn't wearing gloves when they touched him." She glared at the doctor, disappointed by the callous lack of standards.

"That's… a much more comprehensive analysis then we could have hoped for, thank you." the doctor quickly noted down Jeanne's analysis.

"I can fix the hearing and eyesight problems, and any other internal injuries. I can accelerate the healing of the burns and cuts, bring him some bandages. I'm taking care of the clotting and disinfecting." she ordered, sitting down next to Drakath. She looked at his face and sighed. It looked so young, - he was probably 15 or 16 - yet the young capes were always the ones who would turn out the worst of patients. All so reckless, so carefree in the use of their powers, and she couldn't bear to remember the countless times herself and her team had lost as patient to these very abilities. But again, it was her status as a parahuman that did allow her to save lives.

"Keep him put for a while, try to move him to a longer-stay room. I will try to phone the protectorate, possibly get him in with them- for his own good." Medic said, standing up. "I have an important appointment to attend to."

"Unfortunately, ma'am, we're running short on them. Large influx of patients, and not enough space to fit them all…" the doctor said.

"Dommage." Medic noted calmly, and made her way out of the room. As she exited the ER section, she noticed that one of the rooms, marked as long-term stay, was empty, with no sign of a patient. She raised an eyebrow curiously, stopping a young nurse as she walked by.

"Excuse me, but were you not meant to be out of long-stay rooms?" the medic queried.

"O-oh!" the nurse piped up as she noticed the PRT badge. "No, it's just that we've closed this room off for safety purposes. Patient's gone missing, but we can't have anyone stay in there just yet, miss."

"Mhm. Merci." Jeanne thanked her and made her way out of the building. She didn't have time to deal with mundane administration issues for now.

AlphaLuxray · Mar 3, 2017

Splinter

Splinter was all ready to go. Night had fallen, and he was about to head out. He slipped his helmet on, and was quite literally walking through the door when the police scanner he had in his room crackled to life. "All units, we have a break-in at the Museum of Fine Arts. Suspected Cape activity, Freefall and Shift are moving in. Over." Splinter's heart sank at the words. Someone had beat him to his mark. Weeks of planning, gone because some idiots thought a closed museum would be easy pickings. He angrily tore off the helmet, and sat down on his single bed, hard. Now what was he going to tell his client? 'Oh, sorry, someone else took it before I could.' He'd be looking at a bullet through the eyes if he badmouthed La Fience's higher-ups like that. Everything had been perfect tonight… He should have expected someone else to realize that too.

Not hearing anything else of import, Derek switched off the police scanner, and started removing his gear. This job was moot, a blemish on his near-perfect job record. He could expect more than one rude email in response, but he didn't hesitate to sit down at his computer and notify his client of the recent developments, and his withdrawal from the job. Hopefully he'd get another job soon. Removing the last of his gear, derek collapsed in bed, and was quickly asleep. Tomorrow was another day, and there was always jobs to be had in his line of work.

Esper · Mar 3, 2017

Ditto / Hero

- - - - - - - - -

Agnes did not remember who had giver her the jacket. It draped over her shoulders like a blanket. She wrapped the sleeves around her chest as she sat in the passenger seat of the ambulance. The jacket smelled of cologne, a man's jacket, probably. She tried to keep her breathing steady and keep her power in check. One, breath in. Two, breath out. Her suit flapped around her legs and arms with each bump and turn of the vehicle, stretched out and torn in places. There were blackened holes up and down the sleeves. The skin underneath was red, raw, and the muscles sore, but otherwise unharmed. A moment too late and she would be stretched out in the back. Or worse.

"Excuse me, you're the Ditto, right?"

Agnes turned and looked back over her shoulder. One of the EMTs in the back had opened the window to the cab.

"It's just Ditto."

"They're calling for you over the radio. They want you at the PRT headquarters ASAP."

- - - - - - - - -

"I'm hearing reports that you saw someone else at the scene of the explosion?"

"Yessir." Ditto stood stiffly. Being called into the leader's office after a major incident did not surprise her. She was a reliable cape. She followed the rules. She was a dutiful hero. The fact that she had to tell herself all this however meant she was worried nonetheless.

"This Speed Demon? He's that delivery boy, right?" Chief Khadiji closed his eyes. There were at least three empty coffee mugs sitting on his desk. "Trying to escalate to villain? He's in the ICU now. Did you see him at any point prior to the bombing?"

"No, sir, but." It was now or never. "I don't believe it was the Speed Demon I saw. I think there was someone, something else there. After the bomb went off."

Khadiji gave her a hard stare. It was amazing how he never seemed to blink when he was asking you questions.

"Agnes," the chief began. "You're claiming there was someone else at the site of the explosion, standing, unhurt. The Demon was lucky to survive. You, too, for that matter. How many others could stand next to a bomb and walk away?"

"Blackout did." She hadn't meant to say that aloud. "Sir."

"Your car took the brunt of the blast. What I'm saying is, all the capes we know of who could stand at ground zero are accounted for. I think," the chief touched the corners of his mouth as if trying to wipe away a bad taste. "You may need to talk to someone about this. Experiencing an event so similar to your trigger can be traumatic. Take the next few days off. I'll get all the full picture from Blackout and Speed Demon once they're recovered. You can stay home. I'll know if you don't. That's all."

(Drakath) · Mar 3, 2017

Damnit. They saw me. They definitely saw me. My mask wasn't on when I woke up and I bolted the moment I found it. Drakath sighed and leaned against a brick wall. Alright, how many saw me? Only a few right? Mostly doctors. One of the was probably a cape. I woke up in near perfect condition. No way any doctor did that. So who? Medic? Yeah, definitely Medic Extraordinaire. Wait, then that means... He shuddered at the idea of someone else's blood being inside of him. Even if it probably saved his life. Okay, so the medic saw me, but so did the doctors. Medic probably wouldn't but what if... Worry ran through him as he hurriedly checked his phone for any signs of use, but then dread filled him as he pulled it out. "Damnit!" Throwing the destroyed device on the ground, Drakath began to have a brief fit. "Fuck! No~ so much data..." Nearly sobbing, he walked away and headed out of the alley with a distraught sigh as he pulled his masquerade off.

Kiro walked into a net cafe wearing a somewhat long blonde wig paired with a red sports hat and sunglasses. Lower down he wore a colorful white shirt with a leather jacket thrown over it, and grey sweatpants to go with his bland shoes. This disguise was quickly thrown together with nothing really specific in mind, even if certain celebrities appeared in his thoughts as he threw it together. It pained him to have to ditch his favorite outfit, though not nearly as much as having his phone destroyed, but a few doctors had already seen him in it and he couldn't risk being recognized. Walking to an empty spot, Kiro tried to ignore how uncomfortable he felt wearing this. He powered up the computer and made seemingly random searches before began making
intended inquiries. Most surrounded the bomb and those present. His identity hadn't been leaked as far as he could tell. There were no records of "The Speed Demon" having been hospitalized. However, there we're places that confirmed his presence there, and unfortunately for him many began speculating his involvement in the situation, some even considered it as his villain reveal. Kiro sighed once more and closed his computer. He decided to mull over his public image another time and let his partner company deal with it. Leaving the cafe he tried to come to terms with the fact that he would have to "lay low," refraining from using his powers and that he would need a disposal phone for the moment. Kiro headed to Piper Street in his temporary new persona to assess the damage, reminding himself to watch the news when he got home.

Strange · Mar 6, 2017

Damian Edgeworth AKA Mephisto

Damian's fingers tapped on the corner of his desk in sync with the clock. Tick, tick tick, the day seemed to drag on forever. His Physics teacher was lost in a passionate speech about some boring law or something which left Damian's thoughts to wander. Last night he had donned his mask and slipped out of the apartment he shared with his brother. Ever since they had moved out of their now burned down house and into their apartment together his brother had become more hesitant in allowing Damian to go on his villainous adventures at night. He really saw no reason why he should be so concerned with school like his brother insisted he be, he could run an exceptional business with his powers, making deals people were unable to deceive him on was only really useful for making deals with people who would normally deceive him, and that meant illegal activities.

He hadn't really done anything too bad, mostly just overseeing deals between some people trading untraceable weapons. He got a cut of the pay as long as he made sure the deal went through without any problems, and by using his power it was literally impossible. Unless some rogue third party guy came along and screwed up the whole thing, it was pretty much guaranteed cash. Damian was pretty sure he should have gotten more than $200 but hey, he wasn't arguing with the guy who had the guns. Two hundred was plenty.

The sound of the bell ringing snapped him out of his daydream. It was finally lunch time. He scooped up his papers and shoved them into his bag, not caring that they stuck out at weird angles and bent in odd places. As he went to leave the classroom one of his "friends" or "annoying pests" as he's started calling them, in his head of course, waved to him and started to walk with him out of the classroom. "Wasn't that lecture so interesting?"

"Yeah I was so thrilled I closed my eyes so I could listen better." Damian replied sarcastically.

"Oh." the girl said, sounding disappointed, "Well, I'm sure you'll have fun in English after lunch!"

"Not likely." he replied bluntly.

"Oh, cheer up! If you actually listened for once maybe you'd enjoy it!" she said, over enthusiastically. He shrugged, trying to get her to shut up and stop following him. "Well, see you later!" she sang, smiling at him and pushing the hair out of her eyes before skipping off to lunch.

"Thank God she's gone." he said to nobody in particular.
At lunch he pulled out his brown paper bag with a cheese sandwich and an apple. He set the apple aside and inhaled his sandwich, pausing only to take a drink from the water bottle in his backpack. The faster he finished eating the faster he could leave the cafeteria, and the less chance he had of running into-
"Heyyyy! Damian! Over here!" the cheerful girl from earlier called out. He pretended not to notice her and kept eating, taking bigger bites and trying to chew faster. "Yooo hoooooo!" the girl called, now standing and waving with both hands from across the room. "Come sit with us!" she practically screamed in her sing-song voice. Everyone was staring. Damian went red in the face, looking straight down at his sandwich. He hated attention. He shoved what was left of his sandwich into the bag, picked up his apple and tossed the wadded paper bag into the trash before walking as fast as he could into the hall.
It was in the hall that he ran into someone who made his face even more red. It was Shannon, his lab partner in biology and the only person other than his brother who he didn't hate. He cracked a slight smile and waved at her awkwardly. She didn't even notice him, too busy talking to her friends. His smile faded and he marched off to the library, finishing his apple on the way.

When he got there he found an empty table, and pulled out the only thing in his backpack that wasn't a wrinkled mess, a bright green notebook with a black spine. It contained a meticulously detailed record of everything he did as "Mephisto," his secret villainous identity, which he planned to publish as his autobiography once he became as famous as other cape villains. He thumbed through the pages, skimming over past entries. The only thing that kept him sane in school was looking forward to when it ended and his life of crime and adventure began.

When the bell rang to send everyone back to class he slid the notebook carefully into his bag and slipped out into the hall. He really wasn't feeling the whole school thing today, so he shoved his way through to find a narrow and crowded hallway. He slipped out of one of the doors, unnoticed, and walked along the edge of the building before sprinting over to the worn out bus stop, sitting down on a bench behind a couple who was standing and arguing. Pulling out his notebook he waited patiently for the bus.

Later that day his brother arrived home, a pair of voices echoing through the apartment. Damian knew Edan was going to be occupied all night. Whenever he brought someone over he was oblivious to anything Damian did. As long as Damian stayed quiet long enough for Edan to get in his room he wouldn't notice him for the rest of the night. At the sound of the door to Edan's room slamming shut, Damian started planning. Tonight he was going to do something more thrilling than aiding an arms deal, it had to be something exciting, something he hadn't done before.

PastelPhoenix · Mar 7, 2017

Reza Shirazi || Freefall
Male // 18 // Hero

Smile for the Camera I

Freefall slipped inside the training room and removed his mask, letting loose a small yawn before locking the door behind him. Early morning training sessions were the worst, but it was the best time to work with Maryam outside of weekends. Speaking of which, his sister stood with her back to the door, facing down the long corridor used for target practice. It appeared that she hadn't noticed his presence yet, muttering something and firing off a grenade that went wide.

"Your aim is off," Reza said while cracking open his water bottle, flicking his finger to redirect the projectile's gravity towards the target. "You could have made that shot with your eyes closed normally, what's up?"

"You scared the shit out of me," she said after nearly jumping a foot in the air. "How the hell do you manage to sneak in like that?"

"Hey, I yawned and everything. You're just too busy in Mary-land to notice. Also, I'll say it again, what's up?"

Removing her own mask with a sigh, she tossed it to the side and took a seat, motioning to the spot next to her. Plopping down in the seat, he took a large drink of water.

"Say, do you go to the Cape forums a lot?"

Reza then realized that now was probably the worst time to drink anything, as yesterday's lunch conversation flashed back in his mind. He managed to avoid spitting the water everywhere, but had a violent coughing fit from the water sliding down the wrong pipe.

"Hey, are you okay? You still remember how to drink water, right?"

"Sorry," he managed to say between coughs, "bit of a drinking problem. Now, what do you mean?"

She rolled her eyes in response to his deflection. "You know, the video of me getting hit by my own grenade that's everywhere."

"OH! That!"

"What did you think I meant?"

"Let's not talk about that." He deflected once more, hoping his embarrassment wasn't showing on his face. "That's not too bad, y'know? There's the time I got hit by that coffee table I didn't even notice I shifted. I thought I'd never live that down, and everyone forgot about it in a week's time."

"Yeah, but this was Hostage. I don't think there's a comparable situation for how one sided this should have been."

"Tell that to the giant bruise I had on my ass."

"So that's why you couldn't sit still in that PRT history class! I thought you were just trying to keep awake."

"Anyways," he said, trying to move the conversation away from his injuries in embarrassing areas. "All you need to do now is good PR. I had a great day that looked good on cameras and owned up to the situation in that interview. The more you fight it, the worse it gets."

"I guess that makes sense," she admitted, looking down at her own feet. "You know how bad I am at those, right?"

"Not really. Apparently people find you funnier than me for some reason."

"Okay, you can't even argue against that. But I meant the interviews and stuff. In the moment is different, y'know?"

"Yeah, yeah," he said, hatching a plan in his mind. "Listen, we both have patrols later today, right?"

"Same time, different places."

"Look, I'll request an exchange, get you transferred to my patrol. After that, we'll have a kick-ass patrol that'll make both of us look good."

"Won't that just make you look good?"

"Ah-ah-ah," he said, wagging his finger and smirking, "you didn't let me finish. I have an appearance on some small late night show tonight. I can use that time to talk you up, maybe even get them to show some clips back from our time in the wards."

Everything in her head clicked together, and Bombshell's eyes lit up. "That will probably work! People really like you on air."

"See, I'm more clever than you give me credit for. Now, put that mask back on and let's get to work!"

AlphaLuxray · Mar 8, 2017

Chrono

Alex snapped awake to her blaring alarm, early as ever. A quick slap of the snooze button silenced the damn thing, for a time. She knew she had to get up for school, but that didn't mean she couldn't enjoy these last few minutes of bedrest. Rolling out of bed, Alex shoved her way into the bathroom to get ready. Honestly, why do I have to go to school when I've got freaking superpowers, she thought as she brushed her teeth, this'd all be a lot easier if I didn't have to worry about who ruled Rome 2000 years ago.

A few minutes later saw Alex all dressed and her bag packed, and she quickly scarfed down a breakfast of toast with jelly. She then headed out the door, walking the few blocks to the bus stop. The ride to school was uneventful, and the morning flashed by in a blur. Before she knew it, it was finally lunch, and Alex was at her usual spot in the cafeteria. Across from her was basically Alex's only friend, a tall blonde named Christine Avery. Where Alex was gangly and thin, Christine was supple and curvy, and it was undoubtable that she was probably the prettiest girl in the school. Not only that, but Christine was also the top of her class, and extremely smart. Alex still found it shocking that she wasn't super popular, but she was glad they were friends.

"Hey Alex, you did last night's homework for bio, right? Mind if I see it? I want to make sure I got everything right." Christine's voice was quiet and mature, even though she was a sophomore like Alex. Alex snapped out of her thoughts and nodded, pulling her bag from under the table.

"Yeah, got it right here," she replied. Alex pulled out the biology homework and passed it over before continuing, "but even I wouldn't use my homework as an answer key." To Christine, anything short of an A was torture, so she took even the pettiest assignments seriously, as though they were the sole difference between her graduating or not.

"Yeah, I know," Christine tittered, "I just have to make sure I didn't pick the answers you did and I'm sure to pass!" They both broke down laughing, but their joke was interrupted by someone yelling across the cafeteria. The target, a boy sitting by himself, was red as a beet, most of the cafeteria looking at either him or the girl calling to him. Poor kid, she thought, can't imagine how embarrassing that must be.

Yet it seemed luck was on the boy's side, as the bell rang just then. Christine handed Alex back her homework with a smile, and strolled off towards her AP lit class, while Alex took a different hall to history, her most dreaded subject. She caught that boy from the cafeteria in the corner of her eye as he slipped out one of the exits, but she didn't blame him. She'd probably have done the same thing. Coming to her history class, Alex took her seat, and waited for the late bell to ring.

The teacher was an old man, white hair and beard with glasses thicker than any pair ought to be, who had been teaching 20 years past when he should have stopped. It was no secret that Dr. Peterson hated his job, and his class basically boiled down to him either reading from his worn textbook or grading papers while the class worked on problems from the very same textbook. It was honestly one of those classes one dreads going to, and it was not uncommon for more than one person to sleep through the teacher's boring lectures.

Class couldn't be over soon enough, but once it was, Alex was finally free. She made it back home without a hitch, not surprised to find the house empty. Ever since her mother had died, her father had been pouring more and more time into his job, to the point where Alex often didn't see him for days at a time. She'd grown used to it, and besides, she had her own job to occupy her time. Quickly stuffing her suit from her backpack to another, more lightweight bag, Alex skipped off towards the nearest main road to hitch a cab. Her destination: the massive PRT headquarters, where she could actually make a difference in this city as her hero alias Chrono.

((Gonna edit in Splinter later))

moon · Mar 8, 2017

Mechanic

Over the years, Karl had assembled and fixed almost all sorts of everyday things. From broken pencils to jammed irradiators, dirty weapons to crashed vehicles. Where normal humans and capes struggled, for him was all just a matter or knowing where the parts would go, and they would go there. All with a few thoughts. But he certainly wasn't all-knowing yet. Sometimes he had to quickly learn new things. Like this tense afternoon, when he finally entered battle with the infamous Expresso.

The Mechanic eyed his enemy skeptically through the visor. The lighting was dim, but the opponent's armor glimmered in the faint lamplight. There was no hiding now.

"So we meet, at last."

The resistance merely gurgled in response. No sign of intelligence, from what Mechanic could tell.

"If you-"

"Silence! That noise might have been a warning sound. Stand back, civilian."

"I'm not a civi-"

"I am here to save you. Now, please let me do my job." No sign of intelligence from his audience either. His job wasn't an easy one, he thought. But somebody had to do it.

With the tendril of a thought, he grabbed his chosen weapon for the day and slowly lifted it up from the case on the floor. The audience gasped, as they always did at any display of his power. You'd think they'd grow bored after a few times, but he supposed it didn't exactly bother him that they hadn't.

Taking a deep breath, he stepped forward. His enemy stayed put, as expected. The Mechanic raised his weapon intimidatingly over his head.

"It is time," he said solemnly. "Prepare to be-"

"Are you still not done?"

The rest of the lamps in the ceiling flared up. The hand on the switch belonged to a PRT official whom Karl had always seen as particularly grumpy, today no less so than usual. The audience began to murmur and disperse around the break room, trying to avoid getting pierced by the dark glare from the stout african american woman. Luckily, she couldn't see Karl's eyes. Nor his grimace.

"You were supposed to be on your way back to the Protectorate an hour ago," Superintendent Malrossa grunted.

"Clearly, that didn't happen!" The Mechanic replied, accompanying it with a thumbs-up.

"We are not paying you for overtime."

"You're paying me?" he said, but instantly saw he had gone too far and held up his hands in apology. His levitating screwdriver was forgotten and dropped down onto the floor with a bang. "Hey now, relax. I've finished my tasks, I just found an extra that I don't mind fixing as well. Or maybe Mrs Superintendent doesn't quite care for coffee in the morning?"

Several worried eyes turned her way at the question, and Karl could almost see her fuming as her own eyes darted between them before they came to rest on Expresso 5000V. Possibly the most advanced automated coffee-machine in Fallcliff. Probably not, Karl thought, but the PRT men liked to think so and he wouldn't be the one to ruin their pretty picture of reality.

"Just get on with it," Malrossa said darkly, and left as quickly as she had arrived.

Not much sign of intelligence there either, Karl noted. Easily manipulated. Good. However, the afternoon was getting long. He should probably take her advice, even though he wouldn't dream of letting her know he did.

"Sorry folks, show's over," he declared. "And you..."

He reached out, focusing his gaze on the machine and sensing the parts he could see, and how they were connected.

"You may be the first coffee-maker I have had the honor of picking apart, but I will find your fault, and I will fix it. Prepare to be de-wrecked."

Somewhere behind him, a PRT officer eagerly clapped his hands, now enthralled again as the boss had gone on her merry way. Karl sighed inside the helmet and went to work, at last. Karl the repairman. Well, no. Mechanic, the repair hero. Later, he would get back to the Protectorate and hear about what the patrols and missions today had yielded for the others. Who got shot, what villains got a good beating, what hero was responsible for saving the lives of a hundred civilians etcetera.

At least he wasn't going to be responsible for giving caffeine addicted officers withdrawal symptoms in the morning.

(Drakath) · Mar 8, 2017

Unsurprisingly, Kiro wasn't able to enter Piper Street. In fact, the entire block was closed off. From what he could see from behind the roadblock, they were still in the process of cleaning up the area for the probable investigation, if there was anything left of the destroyed delivery destination worth looking into. Some time later, Kiro arrived home, clearly spent from the day's events, and turned on the the television. This was one of the very rare occasions where he actually decided to watch the local news channel. He gave it a good hour whilst he got ready for bed before giving up and deeming nothing else of particular importance, as he had already gathered most of the information that he cared about in particular at the internet cafe. Plopping onto the bed, Kiro tossed his unpleasant thoughts away and fell asleep, dreading what may come the next day.

Not even a second passed after the loud alarm clock went off before Kiro shot up and slammed his alarm shut. He sighed disapprovingly, God I hate that thing. Pausing, a smirk came to his face as he took his statement literally and questioned the point of telling God that, only to fall back into a full-faced frown as he remembered that it was a school day. Nothing ever happened at school to incite his distain however, he just hated the place, the idea, the setup, the fact that he was forced to go. He went through all of his morning tasks at a normal pace, he didn't need to use his superspeed to rush through everything. As he reached for his backpack he remembered that he hadn't done his homework. Even though he could, and always did, superspeed through it, it still annoyed him that it was homework. Why couldn't they just make it an in class assignment? You'd still be doing it and learning the material. Why did it have to intrude into his free time? Regardless of his disapproval, he finished his homework at such a speed that the pencil was literally smoking by the time he finished. Ignoring the horrible smell of burnt lead, he packed his bag and headed to school.

It was something that Kiro had gotten accustomed to after gaining his superspeed, being early or at least on time for almost everything. He walked into the empty class room and waited for class to start, watching as everyone entered. One student, Lisa Ormanni, flinched and stopped as she locked eyes with Kiro. Most would take her for a nerd were it not for her well formed body. She was Italian, fair skinned, lightly freckles, long, dark auburn hair tied into a ponytail that fit well with her soft brown eyes protected behind a pair of thin metal framed glasses. Her cute, gentle face was distorted by a shocked expression, almost as if in disbelief. As for her clothing, a grey sweater hid her blouse underneath while a pair of form fitting jeans covered her lower half. She attempted to casually approach him but failed to pull it off. She sat down next to him, in a seat some of the boys would kill to be beside. Kiro was immune to her unwanted visual charms and saw her only as a best friend, she was technically the reason his Trigger Event even took place. Wondering why she was acting so out of character, Kiro he turned to Lisa.

"Why are you so surprised to see me here?"

gimmepie · Mar 9, 2017

Jailer
AKA. Anita Blaine

The Court of Public Opinion

Anita woke up at six, like clockwork the same as every other day. She blinked the sleep out of her eyes, slowly rising up and stretching her arms above her head. She wouldn't have minded staying in the warmth of her bed for a while longer, she didn't have any pressing engagements. That wasn't going to happen though. Anita was too disciplined for that. She made a habit of always being up, washed and fed by seven, half past at the latest.

She showered, dressed and put coffee on before setting about preparing breakfast for one. Sebastian wouldn't be awake for another several hours and it was doubtful that he'd drag himself out of bed for at least another half hour or so after that anyway. Anita made a point of looking out for her friend, but she'd be damned if she'd mother him to the point of waking him up with a hot meal. If Sebastian was going to laze around, he could fend for himself when he eventually resurfaced into the outside world.

Settling down at the small dining table between their lounge area and kitchen, Anita flicked the television onto the local news and took a bite of a slice of toast. Unsurprisingly, the image of a middle-aged anchorwoman whom Anita suspected was more plastic than human flesh at that point appeared on the screen. Behind the walking advertisement for cosmetic surgery, a large image of what used to be a building was displayed. The anchorwoman concluded her brief summary of the situation before cutting to a reporter on the scene; a young and well-groomed man with slicked back hair and finger to the speaker in his ear.

The reporter spoke in an excitable tone that just didn't seem appropriate for the gravity of the situation he was in. Especially when he revealed that several people had died during the blast and then many more had been hurt or killed during the rescue efforts. The blast had reduced the building it had occured in to rubble and had rather severely damaged those in the immediate vicinity. Piper Street had been shut down whilst investigations occurred and Protectorate, Wards and police took shifts in clearing the areas the investigators were done with. The reporter cut back to the anchorwoman who very insincerely gave her condolences to those who had lost loved ones in the bombing. Then, she moved on to the next story which was, much to Anita's dismay, her and Sebastian's robbery and the subsequent fight - including the two videos that had been circulating around the internet since the previous night. The story was brief but covered their supposed escalation (on account of Anita threatening civilians), the need to better train Wards for combat (on account of Bombshell's supposed loss to Sebastian… even though he'd barely escaped and in much worse condition than the heroine had been in) and final the duo's potential link to the bombing.

"Wonderful, now the news is being run by tinfoil wearing conspiracy theorists. We're going to have to lay real low for a while until they find some actual leads." Anita said to herself as she switched off the television, enjoying the sudden blessed silence. Anita couldn't believe that in a city practically run by La Fenice and with a plenty active criminal underbelly, it was she and Sebastian of all people that the news was homing in on… well them and the poor delivery rogue. Suddenly possessed by a compulsion to see the sight of the blast herself, Anita grabbed her keys and headed out the door - being very sure to lock it.

It was about an hour later when she found herself standing among a crowd of onlookers. All around her was a throng of other people being held back by a wall of tired-looking cops. Most of them were just curious teenagers who wanted to skip class or nosy housewives, but peppered among them were the obviously pained faces of those who had yet to find out if their loved ones had been caught up in the explosion. Anita found it hard to wrap her head around the fact that several of them probably thought she was in some way responsible for the atrocity.

Anita continued watching the officials going about their business for another hour before finally peeling herself away. She wasn't completely sure what had drawn her to the site in the first place, but she suddenly regretting giving in to the impulse. She had gone from being wide awake and looking forward to a relaxing day to tired and emotionally drained in a matter of hours. It wasn't even lunchtime yet. Her stuff joints and bruises ached harder the more she thought about the terrorist attack, as if her body wanted to remind her that between he baseless suspicion now on her, the video of her fight the previous day and the fury she had probably elicited from Seraph, she was likely to be in for a rough time of things soon. Her phone buzzed, displaying a message that all but confirmed her worries.

From Sebastian (9:15am)
someone is looking for us
check capesonline

"So much for a day of relaxation and recuperation. What the hell is this about?"

Oddball_ · Mar 9, 2017

Edan Edgeworth AKA Brimstone

Tires squealing. Gunshots ringing. People screaming.

The masked figure in the clanking wooden plates slowly appeared on the edge of the cloud of thick smoke that had begun to roll in a few moments before. The volcanic landscape on the mask seemed to almost shimmer with fiery heat as the figure stepped towards the several red and black cars and vans that were parked along the road.

"Not this ese." A shaved Latino man sporting the signature tattoo of street gang known as Los Diablos. "You Brotherhood locos don't know when to quit." He continued before firing several rounds towards the smoke covered figure.

The figure that was Brimstone quickly became shrouded in the shadowy smoke mist once more as the bullets flew into the gaseous abyss. Suddenly the smog began to pulsate and swell as it slowly reached forward in tendrils of dark vapor that reached towards the gang member ahead of him.

A rumbling in the ground shook the entire street. The cars began to beep and screech as their alarms began to go off all at once. Suddenly a thick green vine erupted from the ground beneath the balding Los Diablos member, wrapping around his leg and dragging him to the ground.

Several more bullets rang out as the other members of Los Diablos began trying to fight their unseen adversaries. Screams began to ring out as tendrils of smoke began to fill the lungs of anyone who got near the growing mass of smoke, and strange plants began bursting from the ground and taking those whom weren't currently assailed down.

From the cloud of smoke, Brimstone peered around the street. There didn't appear to be any civilians, but he knew that they were all around hiding from the gang violence. ("Have to be careful. Can't let anyone see-") Brimstone began to think before a stray vine stabbed downwards through the chest of a nearby Los Diablos.

"Shit!" Brimstone hissed, his entire swirling aura dissipating as he dashed forward towards the floristry where he knew his accomplice would be hiding.

A bullet lodged itself in the wooden plate on his knee, the impact knocking him to the ground as the wooden plate split down the center and clattered to the ground. As he rolled he crashed next to another Los Diablos whom was about to have their jugular torn apart by a strange vine. Throwing his hand forward before it could pierce the man, Brimstone's fingers touched the plant and it began to quickly grow grey and dry as it began fall apart. The strange disease spread along the vine wrapping around the gang member, slowly freeing him from his temporary prison.

"Heh, you're going to regre-" The gang member began before having his lights knocked out by a stray elbow from Brimstone.

("What the hell is this idiot thinking.") Brimstone thought to himself as he started for the floristry again. ("He can't just go around killing people! No matter how much these bastards deserve it!")

Esper · Mar 9, 2017

Ditto / Hero

- - - - - - - - -

Agnes stood before an open refrigerator, its cold white light the only glow in her dim apartment. The curtains were drawn, stapled shut, letting in no outside light. Day and night had no concept within these peeling walls. She opened a takeout box of... something... from the shelf, sniffed it, recoiled, then threw it in the microwave, setting the power to high. She stood watching the timer count down, listening to the electric hum.

She had been suspended, yes. They could call it a medical leave, but she was taken off duty when she was still able to perform, to act, to fight back. Who didn't have trauma in this line of work? Those officers who had died. The people who would be at their funerals. All those somber people, the grief-stricken faces, the weeping, the grim air. Agnes did not weep, did not show her pain. Would she be expected to attend, and if so to join in their grief? She did not even remember the names of the officers who had died.

Would their friends blame her for their deaths?

The microwave beeped. Agnes opened the door and a cheese- and soap- scented steam filled the air. She grabbed for the box and jerked her hand back. She ran her hand under a stream of icy cold water from the sink, letting it soothe the burn. Maybe she was not right in the head after all.

Her phone rang. It was a song she had chosen a while ago that she thought she had liked. It wasn't anyone from the PRT, their calls had different tones, so she let the song play, trying to remember what about the sugar-sweet bubblegum she had liked until the music cut off at the line "When are you gonna...

She took the nuked leftovers to the small table by the curtained window and began to eat. It tasted like nothing and she put her fork down after a few bites. She picked up her phone from the counter. There was a message.

At first it was quiet, an inaudible murmur like water running through pipes. Then she heard the voice and made out the words.

"Baby sister. My busy... baby... sister. Do you want to know who gave that kid the bomb?"

(Drakath) · Mar 9, 2017

She hesitated before answering, "Um, I just... Didn't think you'd be here." Kiro wasn't buying her response but decided to go with it, "Why?" Lisa fidgeted and brought her voice to a whisper, "Um, weren't you injured in the explosion?" Kiro whispered in kind, "No. Why would I be?" She looked at him in confusion, "What? Wasn't there a bomb in that package." His heart nearly stopped as his eyes widened with suspicion as he nervously responded, "How do you know that?" Lisa went beet red as she looked away. She fucked up. The conversation just started and she already fucked up. Hiding her shame in silence, she waited for his response. Kiro started Shia LaBeoufing as panic set in, "You? No. It can't be you. Why? Why did you set me up? Why? Tell me god damnit!" Lisa cringed and prepared herself for the worst of reactions, "What makes you think I planted the bomb?" Anger set in as he responded, "You said that as if the blast was inescapable. I have superspeed for fuck's sake. You knew that I had to open it in order for it to explode. The news hasn't even figured out half the shit you've said. And you haven't said much. And don't say the internet either. No one knows I was harmed except for the doctors and maybe a cape. And neither party shares that information freely." Kiro had known Lisa long enough to know that her silence was all he needed to know that he was spot on. His heart sank as tears came to his eyes. "That was pathetic. You know for a cape, you're very bad at hiding things." He gathered his things and heard a "sorry" as he left the classroom, resisting the urge to punch her. As soon as he was outside he tossed his backpack into a hidey hole out of sight and donned his masquerade. He and the La Fenice needed to have a talk.

Drakath supersped through Fallcliff with vengeance on his mind. He had texted Lisa not too long ago and just now got a response which read, "You might be able to find at least one of them here. Apparently they had something to 'deal with.' Are you sure this is necessary?" Of course, I need to know why. The location she gave led him to a warehouse somewhere in the Abandoned Industries he looked through a broken window to see that it was in fact abandoned. He could see someone struggling in a chair with a tall figure standing over him. Still burning with rage, Drakath braced himself as he prepared a dramatic entrance.

Fen-Fen · Mar 11, 2017

Safiya Nejem aka Florissant

With energy in her step and a smile on her face, Safiya seemed very eager to start the day. She was meeting one of her friends for tea and breakfast. The friend was one of the first she made moving here to the United States. From Safiya's house in the Indonesian-Dutch District, she boarded the 8 bus going down Van Ness Avenue to the Cultural District. The commute was quiet and uneventful, with Safiya humming along to music streaming through her earbuds. After the short commute, she deboarded the bus and walked the short distance from the bus stop to the cafe.

She opened the door, with a little ring of a bell hanging near the door. Safiya smiled and waved at the waiter, "Hello! Table for two, please." Certainly Safiya's English has improved from both her school days in Tunisia and first coming to the US, but she still spoke with a very noticeable accent.

The waiter guided her to a table by the window and started to thumb through the menu, responding to the waiter asking for drinks with an order of jasmine tea and hot cocoa. While she was looking what she felt like eating today, her friend walked in and found Safiya. Safiya stood up and hugged her friend, exclaiming, "Hey Taylor! How are you today? Still doing good, my friend?"

Taylor returned the hug, "Yes yes, I am doing good." She laughed a little as she added, "Heh, for someone who just saw me two days ago you sure know how to hug tight."

Safiya replied, "Yes, yes, I know. Comes with me being me, yeah?" She sat down across from Taylor and sipped some of her tea. "I am very excited today."

"When aren't you?"

Safiya laughed, "Never."

Clearly not a morning person, Taylor remarked in mock exasperation, "Don't you ever get tired of using all this energy?"

"Nope! Come now, be more awake. It's already 20 minutes past seven. The sun is out, and people are busy." Safiya teased, "What's your excuse?"

Taylor replied in a deadpan tone, "I'm lazy."

Safiya shook her head in mock shame, "And this is why you should really work out with me on Thursdays. Maybe then you would not come in and complaining of waking up for your morning job."

Taylor responded, "Please, work tires me enough without adding workouts to my day."

Safiya asked, "Surely your new job isn't that bad?"

Taylor sighed, "It's not it's just...it's my damn manager. She's a real bitch. Expecting me to pull some goddamn miracle with the reward cards. Not my damn fault they suck."

Her Arab friend offered, "Well, I know how much working retail can suck. Especially at that shoe place around where I lived. Just hang in there, and I'm sure it'll work out. Maybe the manager will be fired when the numbers don't rise or something."

The waiter came back, asking what the two ladies would like to eat. Safiya replied, "Give us a few minutes." She laughed a little as the waiter tended to another customer, the excitable woman exclaimed, "Wow, I got so caught up in talking that I forgot to get what I wanted. Let's see here uh...ooh, how about the chocolate pancakes?" She let her friend pick out what she wanted and called the waiter to get their order. They continued chatting, talking more about work (Safiya of course had to fill in with all the experiences of her cover job, the owner of a tea shop in the Indonesian District) and enjoyed the breakfast.

After the pleasant interaction with Taylor, the Arab woman left the cafe and walked towards the Governmental District to the PRT offices. She walked in to clock in for duty, suited up and was met by Sergeant Davids. The sergeant greeted her, and proceeded to delineate a special provision for patrol. She was going to accompany another Wards member, an excitable newbie. Even with her own occasional zealous moments and excitement with the job, Safiya was more than glad to be a team player and help this person out. Who knows, maybe they're a fan of some good mentoring camaraderie and a zeal for chatting up a storm.

gimmepie · Mar 13, 2017

Hostage
AKA. Sebastian Medina

@Hostage Plz Reply

Sebastian was laying down on his bed, the blinds on his window shut tight to prevent the morning sun getting in. His room was in its typical state, which was to say it was filthy with his belongings strewn all over the place. His desk was particularly terrible with piles upon piles of belongings he almost never touched sitting on top of the wooden frame. On top of the piles of what Sebastian affectionately called his "crap" was an expensive laptop - which invalidated the need for a desk in the first place.

Like many did he imagined, Sebastian sighed and reached for his phone to check the time. It was a little after nine. That suggested he could probably get away with another hour of sleep before Anita physically dragged him out of his room but he doubted if he closed his eyes again it'd only be an hour before he woke up again. His body was still faintly sore from being tased by Bombshell the previous day and was feeling even stiffer than it normally would in the morning.

"Fuck it." Sebastian said to nobody in particular and forced himself to climb out of the warmth and comfort of the bed. Foregoing the effort he would put into his appearance if he was going out, Sebastian elected to remain in the old grey sweats he wore to sleep and grabbed his laptop, heading out into the open kitchen/dining/lounge that made up the majority of their appartment.

It appeared that Anita had gone out for something or other, so Sebastian also forwent any semblance of a healthy breakfast electing to instead grab a can of Red Bull from the fridge and lounge about on the sofa with his laptop, browsing CapesOnline for anything interesting. Even before he'd Triggered, Sebastian had followed the cape scene at least a little. However, after becoming a part of it himself it took on a whole new life to him and he went full cape geek. He had never understood why non-capes became obsessive over it all but when everything pertained to you in some way, how could you not become more interested?

Scrolling through the boards, Sebastian made a point of checking up on the threads about the bombing and the recent one about he and Anita. The former didn't contain anything new apart from a body count (which differed wildly depending on the source). Either way it looked like the original report of no deaths was way off. There was further speculation about the Speed Demon's involvement. The latter was a bunch of the geekiest of cape geeks arguing about he and Anita much to Sebastian's amusement. Depending on who was speaking, they were either useless or a sleeper threat that was actually involved in the bomb plot.

Sebastian decided to run a search for the alias "Hostage" to see if he was being talked about anywhere else and was surprised to find there was another thread where he'd been mentioned. Weirdly though, it was in the section where people left messages for capes. It would be stupid to openly leave a message for a known villain though. His curiosity very much piqued, he opened the thread.

SuitAndTie
H&J, looking to meet up re: FallU and related. Contact me with [email protected]
-VcmLF

Truther
This is for Hostage and Jailer. I fucking called it. @KoolKape3.

KoolKape3
not this shit again ffs. don't fuckin tag me.

Sebastian couldn't help but laugh. This Truther person might have been a lunatic conspiracy theorist, but it seemed like he was at least half right. The only interesting thing to happen at Fallcliff University recently, or likely ever, was his and Anita's raid and "H&J" seemed to indicate the message was directed at them. The fact that the ironically named TraxMail, an untraceable email client that even Monitor hadn't found a way around was being used cinched the deal that another villain was looking for them for some reason. Judging by the initials at the end of the message, Sebastian had a pretty good idea of who it was also.

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