[center][b]Pheonix[/b][/center]

A miniature star surged between the hands of a meditating Pheonix as he sat in his old friend's backyard. It was a pretty trashy yard, but to him, it had been much of his childhood. The entire neighborhood had been his childhood. It was one Finn had never really wanted to be a part of. Mikey winced a bit at the thought, his composure shaken slightly. The star grew slightly out of control for a moment before shrinking back to its original size, once more contained.

Michael Regel, much as the star he had conjured into being, was a swirling tempest of emotion. He didn't know what path his life was about to take, even less than he had when he first came home from prison. Within that sphere of emotion was even a twinge of fear. The police would soon know he, Michael Regel, was clearly Pheonix, or they would be pretty damn certain. Everyone he knew would be interrogated, most would offer up nothing of use, but then his brother would be put even more at risk. If Mikey continued operating with Finn, the police would probably draw conclusions from the duo's actions, such as their varying heights, and connect the dots.

Michael Regel wished things could be different. He couldn't continue to work with Finn and put his brother's connections unnecessarily at risk, especially considering the Architect would want to hunt them down if Mikey didn't turn the flash drive in. Of course, he planned to bring the drive to the Architect tonight, on the hunch that they'd probably be at the carnival. Whether or not this action would cause the Architect to try to kill him for being late, he didn't know. It didn't matter.

Michael Regel's normal life would forever be that of a fugitive, wanted for numerous murders. He could never relax his guard again. He would always be seen as a psychopathic murderer. Wisp very likely thought exactly that of him. Mikey sighed deeply, the star growing between his hands, only it didn't shrink this time. The man still had not made up his mind about this superpowered woman who apparently had balls of steel. His dreams had been full of fire, water, blood, and emeralds. Part of him felt incredible, nearly uncontrollable anger towards her for beating him, and the other part still wanted to strip her mask off and kiss her. Finally, the flames of the star melded with Pheonix's body as he stood and thought, [i]I can't let that happen again. She can't get under my skin like that again.[/i] Though the thought counted, Mikey doubted how well it would hold up if tested.

Nonetheless, he made a trip to Walmart, purchased a replacement costume just like his old one, and returned to his friend's home. Pheonix placed the borrowed clothes on Johnny's clothing, and looked at himself in the bathroom mirror once more as he slung his katana over his shoulder. He couldn't allow Johnny to be involved in any of this either. He'd already done enough as the man poked his head through the bathroom, "Still The Pheonix, eh? Your brother's tattoo really does symbolize you."

"I suppose so," mutter Mikey as he pulled his mask up and stared at his blue-eyed, pale stretch of skin between the black bandana and hoodie over his head and the mask. "I'm serious, man. No matter what happens to you, you always rise from the ashes. You beat everything that comes at you. Kick some ass," with that, Johnny returned to his livingroom.

Pheonix said little to his friend or his friend's sister as he left their home, hoping to never have to return again. The farther away his family and friends were, the safer they'd be. He tossed the hard drive in a dumpster, keeping both flash drives on him. One would be given to the Architect at the carnival, once he found them.

Hours later, he appeared in the crowds surrounding the masquerade ball. Considering it was essentially a costume party, he assumed it wouldn't be any trouble staying inside. The problem was getting inside. Mikey flowed through the crowd like water, knowing full well he could steal and pickpocket countless jewels from the gowns of these women, but he held back. Instead, he simply pointed at the long drapes adorning a high-class woman walking along the carpet to the entrance. The ends lit up with flames, causing a small panic to ensue and distracting the guards. Plenty to slip right in.

Pheonix continued melting through the crowds, brazenly displaying his secret identity under the "cover" of it just being a costume. In some ways, it [i]was[/i] just a costume. In any case, he had an Architect to find...

[center][b]Officer Collins[/b][/center]

"The fucking address was a dud!" yelled Elizabeth at no one in particular as she fumed in her office. A SWAT team had hit the house and found it completely empty, abandoned for years in the ghetto. The Executioner was a crafty son of a bitch, a rat that was incredibly hard to catch. The information from the repair shop had yielded little more than a series of times and information about a masquerade ball. The ball was one of Collins' few leads, but it apparently wasn't enough to warrant any attention from the police, especially considering her screw-up with the address. SWAT wasn't cheap.

Elizabeth grumbled as she got into her cruiser and drove down to the ball, planning to investigate it herself and watch for anyone who might strike at the rich and famous there. The last thing she needed was a hostage situation to add to her growing list of worries. She parked far away and simply walked in her police uniform, assuming it was enough of a costume to pass, especially considering she was [i]Officer Collins[/i]. Her name was supposed to, or should, mean something to the people she protected.

She arrived in the middle of a commotion, apparently over a burning dress. Asking a few people what happened, it had apparently spontaneously combusted... And she didn't believe in spontaneous combustion unless... Pheonix was involved. The officer presented her credentials and entered the ball, keen on finding at least one of the bastards she was hunting.

[center][b]The Executioner[/b][/center]

Malcolm donned his armor, checking his loadout three times. An assault rifle, shotgun, multiple frag grenades, flash bangs, C4, dozens of magazines and tons of ammunition for the rifle and shotgun. That was his standard loadout. Tonight, he added a SAW with multiple boxes of ammo, as well as attaching an underslung grenade launcher to his rifle. He climbed down into the sewers and disappeared, planning on some major fireworks tonight...