Fletcher woke with a jolt sweat dripping down his forehead, sitting up he rubbed his forehead looking at his damp hands another nightmare. He had been plagued by these nightmares. He could never remember what they were about, he just knew that every night he dreaded closing eyes and going to sleep. Whatever these nightmares were about they sure as hell scared him. Jumping out of bed he rubbed his mustache as he looked at himself in the full length mirror that made up the doors to his walk-in wardrobe. These nightmares were troubling but he had other things on his mind. Leaving the room he made himself breakfast and teleported to the local store to buy a newspaper. Teleporting back just as his toast popped out of the toaster he started spreading butter as he read the paper. The main story was about a terrorist attack on LA Center for non-metas. Fletcher dropped the toast, he had to report this!

Teleporting into his room he threw open his wardrobe and got dressed as fast as he could. Grabbing his jacket and reporting things he teleported to LA into an alleyway. Smiling he tapped his head, he had forgotten his hat. Teleporting back to his home in Washington he grabbed his hat of his coat rack and then returned to LA. "Much better" He said to himself. Stepping out of the alleyway he began to do his thing, gathering information from the locals he began snooping around the scene and more importantly the police. The "Terrorists" were part of the group called the Underground movement. He had heard that name before, but only as a rumor. From what he had gathered they were a group of meta's who had no problems using violence to get their point across. The thought made his blood boil, he was a meta and to have this group essentially representing him and painting all meta's in such a bad light was infuriating. 

Looking at the sky he saw it was getting dark, snapping his notebook shut he would write up the story later. He wanted to look one more time around the city. However it didn't take long for LA's night to start with a bang. He heard the scream of a woman coming from the right of him, teleporting back to Washington he telported into his costume and telported straight back to LA around the area of the scream. He found the source quickly blood bodies and a man splattered in blood emerging from the building. "Jesus Christ!" Fletcher had seen his fair share of blood and bodies in England but this was ridiculous. Then the fighting began a Meta wearing armour and some other reformist leader appeared. Both attacking the other people who followed the trench coat man out of the building. 

"what are you doing don't you realize that you're just painting us Meta's in a bad light. Are you just stupid?! How does that." He pointed at the open doors. "Prove anything except that none of us are capable of reasonable thinking?!"

He saw the reformist offer the man in armour a box. He accepted the box of sweets and nodded. "I will get the civilian to safety, then return to cover you. Should you have any need of direct assistance, do call for me, and I will come as quickly as I am able."

Holding the box under his arm and probably crushing most of the goodies within, the Paladin took off running towards the woman - more of a girl, really, getting closer to her. "Apologies, my lady, but the hour is much too desperate for chivalry!" he shouted out as he grabbed at her and kept running, already forming a thick bubble of hard light to protect his passenger from harm.

"Hey Holy Knight? I'm a Teleporter need a hand getting these people out of harms way? Or you Reformist man? You need a hand either or should I consider you an enemy?!" Fletcher may be a hero but he wasn't going to make a move until they said something. This reformist fella could hurt someone if he wasn't careful then he would be an enemy. A simple 20'000 foot drop would finish him. This Paladin guy though he defiantly seemed a good guy.

[@TheWizardLizard]
[@Raijinslayer]