[color=f7941d][b]GEORGE ELLINGTON[/b][/color][hr]
George felt some responsibility for the fake out this whole night turned out to be. 

Maybe if he hadn’t been bashing Purp’s ears so hard, the ‘razzi doll wouldn’t’ve wriggled outta his mitts. The ‘beatnik’ watched in gobsmacked dismay as the other arrival, some brickhouse brunette, popped the clutch and tore ass after the photographer. Well, George might’ve been a total fat-head in a fight but if it was a chase that needed to be run, he was your guy. He’d have to go hard after this false start though. With a crouch of his long legs, he felt his power swell around him, and he took off with an explosive leap.

Speaking of ‘explosive’…

The ear-smashing bang caught the group as soon as his feet left the ground. The edge of the Hot Box dug painfully into his back. There was no time to react, no time to revert. Gravity still borderline eradicated, the kinetic force of the blast threw the boy upwards and outwards, his terrified screech thankfully masked by the noise of the explosion as he ascended past the skyline.