[COLOR=GOLDENROD][INDENT][B][SUP][SUB][H3]S T A R C I T Y, C A L I F O R N I A:[/H3][/SUB][/SUP][/B][/INDENT][hr][/COLOR][INDENT][sup][COLOR=LIGHTSLATEGRAY][B]F R I D A Y, J U L Y 1 3[SUP]T H[/SUP], 2 0 1 8 - 0 3 : 2 8 p m | O W E N S T E A D A P A R T M E N T S, T H E G L A D E S[/B][/COLOR][/sup][/INDENT] [INDENT][INDENT]The room was dimly lit. The only sources of light being the various flickering streams as the woman flicked through the various news channels from across the country. Dirty, smudged glasses sat atop a thin nose, leading up a narrow face into a pair of tired blue eyes. Her hair was a dark tousled mess, pulled lazily into a bun on the right side of her head. In front of her laid several half-eaten containers of food, all from various take-out restaurants located in her surrounding neighbourhood. A stylus in her hand, it moved quickly along the tablet in front of her as a nearby screen translated her movements, a character quickly coming to life as the young woman stared intently at the image of Superman. "Spider-Woman. Now, let me say that again, true believers. Spider-WOMAN," The sound of New York City’s J. Jonah Jameson echoed through the graphic artist’s studio apartment as she worked. "Not only do we have some freaky government experiment running around our city, but it’s also a social justice, radical feminist warrior! Now you know I don't have to tell you, INFO BUGLE, listeners what this means. These liberal warriors want to change everything about your life. And now they'll send their freaky women to make sure that happens! Jackbooted monster women to make sure you comply!" It was a recording from one of his broadcasts earlier in the month, back before Spider-Woman had made a name for herself, back before the Flash was as synonymous with Central City as the Batman was with Gotham. The world was changing and she could not be happier about. June Moon had been a fan of the strange and bizarre longer than anyone could remember. It was her love of horror and the arcane that had encouraged her to sketch the monsters from the darkest corners of her mind, setting her on the path to where she found herself now. Okay, so sleeping with the landlord to make up for late rent when her art wasn’t selling hadn’t exactly been in the plan but the East Coast native was living in California and she had been published at least once. As the cover artist of a Harlequin novel. So the path was a little hilly, June was making it work and these alleged heroes and their colourful costumes were going to help her get her big break. As the recorded broadcast ended, June noticed a clip from the sidebar of her feed as she clicked it open, her screen filling with a brilliant flash of lightning as the poor quality audio began to pour out of her speakers. "I am Thor, the Son of Odin, God of Thunder, Heir to the Throne of Asgard, Protector of the Nine Realms, Björn of the North, the Lone Rider of the Storm, Lord of Battle, the fierce spirit and to my enemies the Terrible." The grainy cell phone footage didn’t exactly show the clearest picture, it had been overly compressed as was typical of some amateur who was just lucky enough to be one the scene. “God of Thunder?” June shrugged as she muttered to herself. “Sure, why not?” She grabbed the keyboard, pausing the video to find the best frame possible before printing the image. Grabbing the warm paper out of the printer, June kicked off from the desk, rolling her chair across the room before spinning around and ejecting herself in front of a large corkboard. “Got another one for you Bob,” She said to the wall, “Hot and fresh off the press.” The wall in question was June’s own collection of clippings from across the country, and hell the world. Artist interpretations of the Batman, newspaper clippings from Gotham, blurry camera stills attempting to catch the Flash and cellphone snaps of the Spider-Woman. If a hero had made a public appearance, they made the Board of Bizarre. But it wasn’t exclusively heroes, June kept take of anything strange and frankly, bizarre that happened in the world. Suddenly the buzzer rang, disturbing June from her thoughts as she ran towards the door shouting. “I’ll have the rent tomorrow!” “Sorry,” A muffled voice yelled back from the other side of the door. “I’m just dropping off a package for a Miss Moon?” “In that case, I’ll be right there,” June replied pulling the oversized t-shirt over her ill-fitting underwear. Picking out her wedgie as she walked over to the door, June held a hand to her mouth, exhaling before shrugging as she began to unlock the numerous locks that lined the back of her door. After what felt like an hour, she finally opened the door, smiling as the delivery man extended the package and a clipboard. “If you could just go ahead and sign,” He stated as June quickly threw her signature onto the clipboard, handing it back to the man as he nodded, his eyes lingering too long as June’s legs before he decided to extend a hand. “I’m Jorge by the way,” He stated, smiling as June took the hand. “I’m not interested.” She responded before slamming the door and walking back into her apartment. The package was simply a padded envelope. Unable to locate a knife or her scissors, June bit down on the corner, giving the envelope a strong tug as it ripped open, an amulet falling out coupled with a note. Picking the amulet up, June rubbed a thumb along the aged metal, a large green stone sitting in the middle while its casing was inscribed with the finest carvings the girl had ever seen. Absently putting the necklace over her head, June allowed it to fall into place, gasping as the heavy pendant landed on her chest. Feeling around inside the envelope in case she missed something, June’s fingers found a small piece of paper as they pulled it out before unfolding it to read the contents. A single word laid scrawled across the page as June mumbled it aloud to herself. “Enchantress?” Suddenly the apartment was filled with a green flare of light. The last sound heard was June’s frightened scream.[/INDENT][/INDENT] [center][img]http://i.imgur.com/IXuUWbR.png?1[/img][/center] [COLOR=GOLDENROD][INDENT][B][SUP][SUB][H3]M A R V I L L E, O K L A H O M A:[/H3][/SUB][/SUP][/B][/INDENT][hr][/COLOR][INDENT][sup][COLOR=LIGHTSLATEGRAY][B]S A T U R D A Y, J U L Y 2 8[SUP]T H[/SUP], 2 0 1 8 - 1 0 : 0 4 a m | M C N A L L Y ‘ N S O N S F A R M[/B][/COLOR][/sup][/INDENT] [INDENT][INDENT]“You do realize I’m a small town veterinarian, not an NRC scientist?” Dr. Blake Donaldson asked, removing the large aviator style sunglasses from his face as he knelt beside a rather sizeable hole in the ground. Dirt had been strewn every which direction, the ground charred and broken, roots from distant trees forcibly exhumed from the ground. Plucking an impaled scale from one of the freshly splintered roots, Blake stood up, holding the fragmented skin in the light as he examined it. “Old Man McNally called in an attack on his livestock to the Sheriff’s Office, I figured t’were some kind of practical joke, big ol’hole and all.” The Sheriff explained. “Once I saw the teeth marks on the cattle, I didn’t know who else to call,” Lamb added as he watched Blake work. “What’s that?” He asked while taking a step closer himself to get a better look. “Animal Control.” “Beggin’ yer pardon?” “Next time,” Blake answered, “Call Animal Control.” He repeated before holding up the object in his hand. “As for this, Sheriff, it’s a scale, reptilian in nature, most similar to that of a snake’s in all but one regard, it’s about the size of a guitar pick.” “That large?” Lamb asked, spitting a wad of chewing tobacco out of the side of his mouth while Blake looked on in disbelief coupled with disgust. “You ever find a snake scale before?” Blake retorted as the Sheriff shook simply shrugged his shoulders before shaking his head reluctantly. “Exactly,” Blake responded before climbing into the hole in front of the pair. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled his cellphone, swiping the top of the screen before tapping it to illuminate his flashlight as he shone the light down the freshly dug tunnel. “Add to that, you could very nearly stand down up in here, Sheriff,” Blake shouted upwards as the Sheriff peered over the lip of the hole, looking down at the veterinarian. “Ain’t no snake that big in all of ol’Oklahoma.” Sheriff commented as Blake rolled his eyes, muttering under his breath. “Understatement of the year.” Leaning in closer to the tunnel walls, Blake could see the work of claws, touching the matted soil and dirt before yelling up, towards the Sheriff again. “There’s also no snake that I know,” Blake began while climbing out of the hole, “That can burrow like this.” He finished, dusting himself off once he managed to return to solid ground. “Show me the cattle.”[/INDENT][/INDENT]