[center][img]https://media.discordapp.net/attachments/1131065754469539920/1131065995507802142/Bombshell.gif[/img][/center][hr][hr]
[color=gray][indent][indent][indent][indent][i][b][color=6A5ACD]“To our darling Noah:

Our Cherry Bomb. Our Hurricane. Our Bombshell. Our Gingersnaps. Our Wildheart. May your time inside that prison pass by quickly and without incident, so you can come back to raise hell with us as soon as possible! While thousands of miles will separate us, you know you can count on us to be waiting for you right here on the other side. We’ll do our best to make sure your parents and Salem don’t go too crazy without you, and we’ll send you lots of commissary things to make sure you're taken care of. And, of course, we’ll always keep you updated on all the tea that happens around these parts.

We fucking love you, bitch. Knock 'em dead (but not literally).

Oh, and by the way: [u]fuck Howard Sterling[/u]. He’ll get his karma, babe. We’ll make sure of that.

Cheers!”[/color][/b][/i][/indent][/indent]
As strong as she had pretended to be in front of her family and friends, there was no hiding the tears that rolled down her cheeks as the tattooed redhead watched her beloved Washington state one last time from the airplane window, flying her away from everything she had ever loved and cared about. The unfairness of the situation Noah Cypress currently found herself in had never been lost on her. When she had first discovered her powers, it hadn’t taken long for the then thirteen year-old to understand just how easily her newly found abilities could be abused, and how dangerous their effects could be if weaponized. Only her parents and her two best friends had been trusted to keep her secret, and had only used it for practical jokes here and there as long as there was a guarantee that they couldn’t be traced back to her. And yet the years she’d spent being as cautious and mindful as possible seemed to mean nothing when, in an act of indignation, humiliation and rage, she’d let her emotions get the best of her and utilized her powers for purposely causing harm.

Noah didn’t just wake up the morning of that fateful day wanting to blow up that old bastard’s car out of the blue. Nobody seemed to care that [i]she[/i] had been the real victim in this case. Most even doubted her story and the reasons behind the actions she took. All the prosecutors, witnesses and the university staff could see was a bitter, mentally unstable student that took out her frustrations of a failed class on her helpless professor-- because surely there was no chance that such an acclaimed, esteemed member of the University of Washington Tacoma could be capable of what they were accusing him of, right?

[b][i]Wrong.[/i][/b]

Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. [b][i]Wrong.[/i][/b]

They were all fucking wrong.

Deep down, Noah knew that holding onto hatred only did more damage than good-- that it would only serve to poison her soul. But there was no way that she would ever forgive that filthy, disgusting, poor excuse of a human being for what he put her through. He’d definitely be seeing her after she was done with this little program-- and that was a promise.

The short plane ride from Seattle to San Francisco had gone on smoothly, made easier by how fast the girl had fallen asleep with her tie-dye blanket, her dark shades on and her earphones blasting. As soon as they’d landed Noah made a beeline to the nearest convenience store for some headache medicine, followed by another stop at Starbucks for a venti caramel iced coffee to down the pills with. The hangover from the night before had returned with a vengeance, and the lack of sleep didn't make things any easier. 

With her liquid medicine in one hand and her vape in the other, Noah followed the instructions around the San Francisco airport, and soon found herself standing at the Ju-V program’s designated pickup bus stop. She kept her shades and earphones on all the while, alternating between sips of coffee and pulls of her vape. Eventually, a stunning woman that looked like the blonde version of Xena the warrior princess and an older man in a neatly-pressed suit joined her at the stop. The redhead gave the duo a nod of acknowledgement before turning back to mind her own business, not wanting to gawk or appear nosy. In other circumstances, the woman in the camo pants, combat boots and striped top would be the type she’d approach at a bar with the goal of spending the night together. But considering the fact that this whole “Ju-V” thing was marketed as a “rehabilitation program” for “metahumans”, there was no telling what powers or reasons for joining the rest of the people had. The last thing Noah wanted was to get on the bad side of the wrong person and end up injured or dead, so she settled for a few stolen glances out of the corner of her eyes instead.

It didn’t feel like she’d been waiting long until the bus that would take them to [s]prison[/s] the program made its arrival. Noah boarded the vehicle after the blonde goddess did, and she had barely stepped a foot on the last step before the doors closed and the bus was on its way again. Her blue-green eyes quickly scanned the bus for a place to sit, and she found the perfect spot right behind a lanky young man with the coolest hair she’d ever seen. He appeared to be the most reserved out of the current bus occupants, which perfectly suited her desperate need for peace and quiet. Wasting no additional time, Noah waltzed down the aisle and took her seat, placing her suitcase between her legs and wrapping her arms around her guitar case. She rested her head against the cool window and tried to enjoy the sights of San Francisco, using her vape as a way to wrestle with the sleepiness threatening to claim her. Barely fifteen minutes later, and the Tacoma girl was fast asleep, oblivious to the happenings of the world around her.

An Aegis agent’s not-so-gentle shake of her shoulder pulled the sleeping redhead away from DreamLand, and she made her way out of the bus with her belongings still half-asleep. The lethargy, however, was short-lived. When her eyes fell on the group of people around her, Noah realized that her plan of avoiding physical temptations might be easier said than done. The men around her were certainly handsome, but it was the women who had her wiping imaginary drools off her chin. There seemed to be a flavor for every taste: different shades of gorgeous blondes, intriguing brunettes (one with a pair of stunning wings), raven-haired balls of energy… They all piqued the redhead’s interest in different ways (some more than others), and she mentally beat herself up for not putting a little bit more effort into not looking as rough as she felt. Oh, well… So much for making a good first impression.

Her moments of vaping and discreet people-watching were interrupted by the arrival of the second ferry, which took her and the remaining others onto the island. She’d kept her head leaning against a pole in front of her and her eyes closed for the majority of the ride in an earnest attempt to combat the dizziness and nausea threatening to take over her. A late night of craft beers, weed and spicy boneless wings; and a morning of little pretzel snacks and an iced coffee were a guaranteed recipe for disaster. She had tried for the most part to remain calm, doing anything in her power to ignore the way her stomach was turning in her abdomen. Unfortunately for Noah, the war was lost, and she found herself emptying her stomach’s contents overboard halfway through the ride.

A mouthful of Listerine and three cubes of gum later, and the pale, queasy Washington girl was making her way to the investigation station. While her belongings were being examined, a guard scanned for any contraband on her person with a handheld metal detector. The device was quiet for the most part, but it made alerting noises anytime it reached her hands, her ears, and her chest. There was visible confusion on the agent’s face as he tried to think of what could be causing the detector to go off, going as far as to run the device around the area an additional few times. When it finally dawned on him what it was that the detector was probably alerting to, his face turned beet red and he quickly turned away, while Noah’s cackling laughter filled the air around them.

A brief moment of amusement before things finally went downhill.

The young woman watched in annoyance as her iPod and her guitar were taken away for ‘further investigation’-- that she had anticipated. But it was the notification that her vape would be confiscated that sent Noah over the edge.

[color=FF6347]“Hey-- HEY! What the fuck?!”[/color] the redhead cried out as a female agent reached into the pocket of her shorts to retrieve the electronic vape mod and place it inside a transparent ziplock bag. Noah had tried to fight off the woman so bluntly invading her space, but she’d been forcefully restrained by another agent before she could go further than dig her nails into her arm. [color=FF6347]“The iPod and the guitar were pushing it, but you’re taking my vape on top of that, too?! How am I supposed to keep control of my anxiety?!”[/color]

“Your vaporizer is considered contraband by our standards, Miss Cypress. We have to confiscate it.”

[color=FF6347]“[i]Contraband[/i]?”[/color] Noah scoffed, rolling her eyes and crossing her arms in front of her chest like she’d heard the most ridiculous thing ever. [color=FF6347]“It’s literally vapor that smells and tastes like bubblegum! It has less nicotine than a cigarette! How do you consider something that literally controls my anxiety as [i]‘contraband’[/i]?!”[/color] That was probably the dumbest argument she could’ve ever come up with, but nobody ever said Noah was a straight thinker when she was upset.

“We don’t make the rules, miss. We just enforce them.”

[color=FF6347]“This is fucking bullshit…”[/color] the redhead muttered under her breath, tapping an impatient foot on the ground and feeling herself getting more heated by the second. [color=FF6347]“I have rights, you know! Even federal inmates have access to cigarettes! This is literally a violation of my human rights.”[/color]

The guard rolled her eyes at the young woman’s melodramatic antics, choosing to ignore her wild protests and focus on the task at hand. By the end of the examination, the little patience Noah had been blessed with was all but used up, and she chose to take position at the side of the line furthest away from everyone as possible to try and avoid going off on someone.

The new arrivals didn’t have to wait long until a man who identified himself as the institution’s director came out to greet them with a speech. When it had reached its conclusion, the granite man made a comment that earned him the approval of some of the girls and the otter around him. Although she cracked a momentary half-smile, the Cypress girl was quick to purse her lips, conflicting feelings bubbling up inside her. The Noah from Tacoma would’ve roared with laughter at the direct defiance of authority, eager for the chance to join in and see what mischief she could get into with her peers. But the Noah currently standing in the middle of this island prison only wanted to cut her stay as short as possible with good behavior so she could return home as quickly as possible. It was like being stuck between a rock and a hard place.

With how wrapped up she was in her own head and because of her position at the other end of the line, the young woman failed to notice any conflict brewing until tasers and pepper spray were being used against them. The redhead quickly snapped back into reality, eyes scanning her surroundings for any potential threats and bracing herself to unleash her powers on anyone who dared approach her with ill intentions. Fortunately for them, Mr. Director was able to control the situation before it turned into a full-blown riot, dismissing the instigators and addressing the group once more. The longer Noah listened to him, the more incensed she became about how unfair the enforcement of these so-called “community protective” policies would be. Her hands balled up into fists at yet another injustice she'd probably have to face, and one singular, aggressive sentence repeated itself over and over inside her head like a broken record:

[indent][indent][color=FF6347][i][b]“Fuck you, Howard Sterling.”[/b][/i][/color][/indent][/indent]
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