[center][u][b]4:22 PM, March 25th The Wedge, Hub City[/b][/u] "I think you're overreacting, Samantha. I haven't [i]told[/i] anyone, and I'm not going to," Clarissa reassured the black Bombay cat sitting at the foot of the couch in front of them. Samantha gave the best impression of an eye roll that a cat possibly could, "Don't you understand how much [i]danger[/i] this places you in? Anyone that becomes a part of Lady Arcana's world also becomes a target for whatever enemies she may one day have." "But Clarissa is my best friend, and besides, there's something [i]weird[/i] going on with her now," Karen pointed out. "Tell her, Clare." Clarissa reached up to needle her temple, as if she was in pain. "It started a couple of weeks ago. I had, well, [i]a dream[/i]. It uh...well, let's just say that at least [i]part[/i] of it was true." "What?" Sam blinked in surprise. "You had a vision?" Clare nodded in response. "I saw Karen, err, Lady Arcana with the Question and someone I didn't know in a house. They were investigating the murder of the commissioner, and then--" "It [i]stopped[/i] being accurate," Karen cut her off with a cough. "But even so, it was just the [i]first[/i] one." "Right," Clare sighed. "I've been seeing [i]other[/i] things since then. It's different when I'm awake than when I sleep. When I'm sleeping, my...uh...[i]desires[/i] get in the way, usually. But I saw something earlier today, at school." Sam cocked her head to the side at this, "And that was?" "...Violence," Clare whispered. "L-like nothing I had ever seen before. So many people, clawing at each other like wild animals. It was spilling out into the streets...there were [i]so many[/i] being hurt, I--" Seeing that her friend was clearly becoming distressed with the recollection, Karen reached out and rubbed her back. "It's okay, Clare. You don't have to give us all the details." Samantha was silent for a moment, glancing at the floor. "And...these other visions came true?" "The ones I had when I was awake, yeah," she confirmed. "It's always the [i]not-fun[/i] ones that are real." Karen folded her arms, her eyes closing in thought. "She's told me about some of her other 'visions', but this one...I really [i]hope[/i] it's wrong." --- [b]March 25th, 5:22 P.M. Marcy Projects, NY[/b] He spent several months gathering what information he could on the three-pronged head that became of New York's underworld: Triads, Yakuza, and Italians alike. There was word on the horizon the Colombians and Russians were soon to carve their own blood soaked path through New York's hallowed streets fairly soon as well. Of all the epidemics caused on the eastern seaboard--cocaine, heroin, methamphetamine, the proprietor of this outbreak was a monster all its own: Elysium. It was so new it didn't even have a colloquialism among its users; with a potency double that of heroin and a high long as meth, it had become the new drug of choice for dealers and addicts alike. Its outbreak was ten times the speed of any epidemic the country had ever seen. This was due in part to the quality-cost ratio; drugs mirrored capitalism exactly in this sense; the customer will always buy the better product if it is cheaper. And Marvin was doing his best to track Elysium's progress as it ravaged impoverished neighborhoods one by one. Still, his work had not amounted to much, and he was nowhere near close to discovering its effects on those who fell under its allure. From what he could tell, the drug had what may be summed up as 'otherworldly' effects on the minds of its users. Those who partook--from what Marvin could tell from several personal observations and a handful of chemistry books-- were not zombies per se, but whatever changes the drug induced to the brain's chemicals appeared to be more like a hard re-wiring of the brain's structure than simple dopamine release. The only way he would know for sure is if he could obtain a sample. As the sun began to set, Marvin geared up: black bulletproof vest, black army fatigues, brown army boots, padded gloves, and his new cloth cut out mask with smaller yellow threads covering the eyes. He used the brand new fireman pole he installed to climb up to the roof where he had made his own secret door for entering/exiting the premises should he ever find himself in dire straits. Once on the roof, he gleaned his sight on the bustling bodies below. The alleyways were probably his best bet--or the fast food establishment's bathroom situated across the street. "Collateral damage or property damage? Same thing? Same thing." The sun was still too high for him to operate safely, and he had lived in these projects (and a many other projects) to know that most fiends sate their hunger when night falls; it was going to be a long night. --- [b]March 25th, 8:00 AM Wilderness outside Hope Springs, West Virginia.[/b] Harris blew out his lips near-silently. He had seated himself deep in the forest, hoping to avoid any chance of human contact while he figured this out. He had to focus, meditate, if he ever wanted the chance to speak to the Green without them taking over his body. He'd done it once before, but it hadn't lasted long. He flexed his hands as he did, desperately trying to avoid any thoughts and just focus on his breaths. [i]Murderers all of them Animals The Red Humanity[/i] Okay, that sounded promising. "Er, hello?" [b][i]LEAVE THIS PLACE AVATAR[/i][/b] That was less promising. Harris gritted his teeth as the connection fell away from him, the tired numbness that he always got before he lost control of his body, he was chasing that feeling, that ever more important connection to the primal force which he understood little. He furrowed his brow and again dove into his own mind, he wasn't going to be deterred. "Not until you speak to me, I'm done with you ordering me around without explaining anything, I may be your avatar, but I am also a person and this may not be the best line of logic..." [i][b]LEAVE US YOU ARE NOT WELCOME OUR MIND IS OUR OWN[/b][/i] And just like that, Harris felt the connection fade. He cursed himself and pounded the ground with his fist. He was so close to finally being able to speak to the thing, but he'd screwed it up. He stood and growled, closing his fist and gritting what could be roughly seen as teeth. A tree sprouted from the ground in front of him, only to be smashed to pieces as Harris angrily punched it. [i]Stop harming us-[/i] "Oh fuck off!" Harris felt slightly strange as he realized just how bitter he sounded. He'd never been one to get angry like this before. It was the stress, he knew, what had happened up in Hub City and the fact that he still had yet to reveal himself confidently. Those fucking drugs, what they'd done to Shawn was a disgusting thing, not that Shawn himself wasn't disgusting to begin with, but whatever, blame the drugs avoid the hard moral questions. He needed a distraction, he realized, he'd been alone with his mind for too long, something to take his mind off of... his mind. The phone! The one he'd taken from the poacher! He still had that didn't he? Somewhere in the tree. He pulled it up and yanked it open, ignoring the surge of wooden parts and dust that the crack brought, and began sifting through what garbage he'd collected in his time spent in the forests. He found a needle or two, a pill, and even a leaf of dubious sorts, all stuff he'd done for Shawn. He was disgusted with himself now. He tossed that garbage away and continued sifting until he found the phone. Still sitting at ninety percent battery, nice. He turned it on and was pleased to see that it still had data on it. He went online and began reading news and stuff, trying to get back into the swing of the world after being isolated for a long time. Of course, he found an article about a drug... wave? Outbreak? Whatever, in New York City. He felt his body grow taut as his mind began to run ever faster. It was a mess, the world was a mess, how could they still be making stuff like that? He growled, staring off into space, when he looked back down into his hand, he saw that he had managed to smash the phone, almost completely. He'd heard New York was nice this time of year, perhaps seeing how bad this drug... thing, was would take his mind off of his own issues. Yeah, that sounded good. Harris grew wings and took off not a second later, only realizing the gravity of what he had just done hours later. --- [b][u]2:57 PM, March 25th Kasimir Castle, Gotham City[/u][/b] Buried deep beneath the sprawling lawns and rising walls that made up one of Gotham City’s most lavish properties a cavern lit up with blue light, a vibrating [i]zzzt[/i] echoing off the walls. The room itself was rather large, chiselled out of the very earth in a rough half sphere, and absolutely freezing. As the light died down Zoey blew a lock of red hair out of her face, the strand having come loose from the ponytail she had messily put up while working on the device in front of her. Honestly, the surface in front of her was mostly a mess of wire, miscellaneous parts, tools, and of course the standing that was holding up her current project – a long line of black metal joints vaguely in the shape of a human spine, with some rather wicked looking needles near the top section. Along the wall behind it was more racking spaces holding various other objects in different states of completion, a copy of Grim's mask pulled off it to the side of the spine-like device. A small flickering of blue lit up once more as Zoey hummed thoughtfully, fingers twitching against the delicately small welding tool held in her hands. Finally she reached out to tap the screen of her phone with a gloved finger, set almost precariously at the edge of the work table, to take note of the time. David should be off school soon. Zoey's steel-blue gaze returned to the work table, contemplating if she could get anymore done, before a sigh escaped her lips. She set down the tools into their proper place - no need to burn [i]more[/i] of her things - and pulled off the work goggles over her eyes. Rather low-tech compared to most of her things honestly, it only had a zoom function for her work, but it did the job needed. Tossing the gloves to the side as well the billionaire picked up her phone, thumb unlocking it as her other hand reached out to grab the most important item of her arsenal, set beside her - a bottle of wine she had pulled from the cellar along the way in here. "[i]Would you like me to send the car to pick you up?[/i]" Zoey's thumb quickly typed out the text and sent it off before she stood, kicking the stool back underneath the work table. The redhead took a rather deep drink of the bottle before turning to leave, only to pause as her eyes caught sight of another one of the various machines located down in the 'Grim Cave'. While her little workshop was a decent size, and the computer set up even bigger than that if you included the servers, almost half the room was dominated by the labs. Medical equipment, both for practical use after nights stalking the streets of Gotham, a database of DNA forcibly taken and processed, and of course the latest piece of equipment added. Currently, the box that Lady Arcana had retrieved from the Electrocutioner for her rested on this last piece - contained in a field of subtly glowing white behind glass panels on a platform the size of a small car. Unbidden, Zoey couldn't help it when her feet took her toward it. The redhead let out a long suffering sigh examining the object, and took another drink. This... [i]thing[/i] was frustrating to no end. It wasn't even the cost of the piece of equipment currently housing it, or how difficult it was to get, but rather the readings it was showing. Of course, she was expecting it after the fight with the Electrocutioner, but it being confirmed that the seemingly plain box was touched with something [i]mystical[/i] was still a source of frustration. Honestly, what was she supposed to do? Call up her local fortune teller for a palm reading on a metal box? Even if that worked the fact it was crossed with some sort of tech would probably mess up the readings. Life had been complicated since all this magic started crawling out of the wood works, that was for sure. Some good came out of it, like those who donned masks like the Impossibles from years before to help, but with it also came the crime spike. Imagine if someone like Lady Arcana decided she wanted to commit a crime, what were ordinary officers supposed to do? Of course, that led to the new files currently populating her computer servers based on these people, but that was neither here nor there. She'd need a break on identifying and possibly harnessing the magic touching these objects, and sooner the better. Maybe getting more samples would help. Or just getting blackout drunk and forgetting the whole thing. A slight chuckle escaped Zoey's lips before she shook her head and once more went to leave. That's probably what her servants thought she was doing anyway, considering how often she escaped down to the wine cellar. Hopefully they at least didn't think David was following after [i]those[/i] particular footsteps. --- [b]March 25th, 5:39 P.M. Marcy Projects, NY[/b] Jermaine Lewis had had it rough this past year. Things had never been easy, mind you, but it’d been worse since he failed to pay his tuition for graduate school. S’not like he hadn’t [i]tried[/i]. He’d gotten the best job he could…but working [i]fast food[/i] wasn’t gonna pay for even the cheapest community college. He was on his own now. Cancer had claimed his mother even before that, and his father was who knows where – hopefully rotting in hell. Now he was even failing to pay the rent in his rathole apartment...but for whatever reason, he just didn’t seem to care about [i]any[/i] of that now. For whatever reason, Jermaine couldn’t stop smiling. Yeah, things were gonna be alright. No matter what happened, everything would work out… ‘Cause he was in Elysium. He had been for months now, his mind relieved of the burdens that once weighed it down so terribly. Here, he could lay back in the endless fields and feel the gentle breeze against his face as he watched the children of the Gods frolic. Those who had never been here believed that it was merely a drug. That “Elysium” was just a euphemism for the high it gave you…but no. This was [i]more[/i] than a drug. He had tried heroin. He’d tried meth, even. They were [i]nothing[/i] like this…it wasn’t simply a matter of intensity, it was an entirely different experience altogether. When you did Elysium, you went to [i]another place[/i]. True, his body may still be back in his apartment…but his mind had [i]ascended[/i] to a much better place, and more than anything, he just wished it could last [i]forever.[/i] He could tell the [i]others[/i] like him felt the same way. That was the most amazing thing about Elysium. You were [i]never[/i] alone. Some he recognized from the Marcy Projects, others he didn’t…but they were real. It wasn’t an [i]illusion[/i]. He’d spoken to them outside of Elysium, and knew it wasn’t just a drug-induced fantasy. Pretty soon, [i]all[/i] of the inner city would be here with them. “Ah, my children,” a soft yet commanding voice lifted Jermaine from his thoughts, causing him to sit up and set his eyes upon the source: A towering man in very…[i]strange[/i] looking armor. “It warms my heart to see [i]so many[/i] of you here at my side.” Truth was that Jermaine had seen this guy before. He’d talked to them before, and was always cool. Something felt a little [i]off[/i] right now, though. Like there was a tingling in the back of his head. “You’ve reaped the bounties of Elysium for many a week now with little personal cost…but now, I must ask you to render a [i]service[/i] unto me,” the man smiled. Jermaine reached up to clutch his head, a low grunt rumbling from his throat as he clenched his teeth. Pain. He felt pain, despite being here. Despite being in Elysium. That wasn’t how it was supposed to be. “It is time for you to begin sewing the seeds for [i]my return[/i].” ~ “LEWIS! GET YOUR MOTHERFUCKIN’ ASS UP!” Jermaine’s eyes shot open to the sound of his an all too familiar voice. His landlord, Mr. Kevius Willock was pounding on his door, a sound that had never failed to make his heart sink into his stomach. Before now, that is. Now, Jermaine could only think of one thing. Moving over to his couch, he took a crowbar in his hand. Turning to the door, he calmly opened it to see the diminutive old man. “Boy, you got my re-AUGH!” Fast. Without hesitation, before his old bones could even react. That was the speed with which Jermaine brought the crowbar down upon the old man’s head. Again, and again, until the cracks turned into sickening squelches. There were more here. More who hadn’t tasted Elysium. He needed to find them...[i]all[/i] of them. [/center]