[h2]Alessa Heather: Charity Fundraiser[/h2]
Everything seemed to happen in a few moments. Overlook, one of the heroes who had been at the warehouse raid, suddenly cried out for everyone to get away from the middle of the room; even before Alessa reacted, Lillian did, dragging her behind a stall as the floor of the conference hall seemed to explode, spraying rubble everywhere that barely avoided injuring anybody, even the fans in the room, thanks in part to Inkscape’s quick action. Even so, they were still in danger as long as they stayed in the room.

‘I’m fine, Lillian, thank you,’ Alessa confirmed with a smile, before her expression defaulted to serious. ‘If you’re alright too, then...’ There were civilians still present, after all. Alessa yelled out into the hall, hoping her voice reached everyone inside - that the noise of something rising from within the new hole didn’t drown her out even as she continued to talk - ‘Every non-combatant, please leave the hall in an orderly fashion! The area still isn’t safe, and you need to leave!’ In fairness, there was a chance that it wasn’t safe outside either, but considering that the room had just had shrapnel fired through it and a giant stone warrior crawl in, one could hardly blame her thought process.

As she yelled out to the civilians, she could overhear Lillian speaking into the comms, describing the situation - the Rockers, of course, had made themselves known in perhaps the silliest way possible, right in the middle of a crowd of heroes alongside their fans, both endangering the public [i]and[/i] making for what seemed to be a very easy capture. If it were just Ceramix, of course, things would be simpler; if Shatterpoint were here too, somewhat less so, unless somebody happened to have a can of containment foam on them.

First things first, though, there was a granite statue to take out. Even as a plan formed in Alessa’s mind, observing the area for a good position to work everything out, Lillian asked her to back her up - like they promised, of course. ‘Absolutely,’ Alessa agreed, the idea cementing itself in her mind as she began describing it: ‘If you can get big enough to charge the giant without too much injury, I should be able to melt its knee joints. Just make sure it falls ove-’

And then [i]it[/i] showed up, smashing through one of the entrances in a cacophonous symphony. Was- was that an Endbringer?! No, surely not, she- no, she recognised it, that was, gah what was his name, Beyonder? She didn’t have time to think, as regardless, it- he- was charging the rock creature with great speed.

‘Sorry, T-L, gotta act now! Duck and cover!’ she quickly explained, yanking her hand out of Lillian’s grasp and very quickly analysing her firing angle. Nobody in her firing range, nobody she might accidentally hit, especially with the Rockers on its legs seeming to fly off of their own accord - aiming one hand at each of the giant’s knees, she fired twin rays of intense heat and light at the statue, with the intent of melting the joints and fusing them together. If she’d aimed properly and put enough energy into the rays, the joints would either collapse entirely under the weight of rock above it as they melted, fuse into useless lumps that would make Beyonder’s tackle all the more effective, or at worst weaken them enough that the thing’s legs might break in half on impact. Regardless, if Alessa had her way, that statue was coming down, albeit not quite where she’d have made it fall.

[hr]
[h2]Raymond Haywood: The Cruise Room[/h2]
Raymond listened in on the discussion held in response to “the vigilante” and their fairly reasonable consideration of how easy it could be for a given villain to be kidnapped and turned to Patriarch’s control. Sabotage seemed very sure that taking down the organisation entirely would be impossible; Retcon accused her of being unwilling to lose her biggest income source; and Purge simply stated that the full force of his mafia would be put towards ending the Community. Fools that they were. Like most organisations, the head was the most important organ. If they took out Patriarch alone, his would-be children - his immediate subordinates, that is - would fall on each other like squabbling siblings. The metaphor was darkly apt.

Then a newcomer entered. Raymond was curious, but soon smiled with mirth beneath his helmet as he realised what was being pulled. Of course, the old bait-and-switch ruse - have somebody pretend to be you, only to go on as if nothing had happened if and when the decoy gets assassinated. An old classic.

Except, as Jason cited the bad feeling in his gut, Raymond in turn began to experience a squirming cognitive dissonance within him - “what if.” The Jacks knew already that the vials contained parahuman abilities within them, somehow; there had been no word about a Broker imitator before now. What if they’d been talking to a proxy all along? What if this was the real deal, with the powers in their vials? Or what if both were fakes, and the real Broker still had yet to present himself? The notion settled like a lead balloon in Raymond’s stomach, heavy yet engorged with doubt. He hated doubt. It was a natural human reaction, after all - nobody wanted to not know something.

Alas, his internal mood lightened somewhat as somebody, Whipstitch if he recalled, made a grand speech about how controlling bastards and tricksters simply couldn’t be allowed to keep living. And then sat down with obvious confusion, seemingly trying to make her power work properly. The vigilante from before- wait, weren’t they a boy just a moment ago? Either way, they went to check on the woman, shortly before somebody with a [i]lot[/i] of confidence approached this new Broker, or Broker imitator, or patsy, or whatever they represented, and practically demanded he hand over the vials in exchange for his organisation’s services. Wow. He was probably a dead man, then - if not thanks to the Broker himself, than thanks to the other villains’ outrage at his brash attempt to wile away so many unknown abilities for himself.