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Hidden 5 yrs ago 5 yrs ago Post by Fallenreaper
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Fallenreaper ღ~Lil' Emotional Cocktail~ღ

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Hide and Seek: Part 2



Location: Benjamin’s home, NYC
Time: Afternoon, month after the Wolf Hunt.



Benjamin's arms burned as he pushed up then lowered back down. Each time, he repeated the movement in sets. After several hours, he gave one final pushed and hooked the bar on the stand. In a well-practiced motion, his figure slid out from underneath it. Sweat beaded across his surface making him feel grimy from the extreme work out.

An arm snatched up a nearby placed towel and began to wipe around his eyes. His wave hair flipped around, some times slipped into his eyes and made them sting. Finishing up, he rose upright. He discarded the towel while he walked toward the door.

When his fingers touched the handle, a loud rapping caught his attention. His head whipped about to the source: his bedroom window. Benjamin frowned before he began to investigate.

On the still, a blue-black crow stood outside. The beady eyes narrowed onto him and became motionless. Almost like it was studying him. In a sudden burst of energy, the crow's wings jerked out and feet kicked off its perch. It swooped wide once before it vanished into the distance.

Benjamin remained at his room's entrance, confused by the sight. It held some familiarity, but weirdness too. He shrugged it off as he turned around to exit his personal space.

He managed to catch the clock on his way out. The digital numbers flashed 12:00 PM.

'Explains the hunger pains,' Benjamin mused.

He soundlessly made his way down the stairs into the hallway outside the kitchen. The sounds of the door unlocking and swinging open caused him to pause. It had to be Emma, she was the only one to have keys to the house.

As he entered the kitchen, he realized her shift started earlier than this. The oddness strict him, but he didn't linger on it. It didn't matter to him now.

He noted she had two large, paper bags in each arm. She struggled to loosen the keys while she juggled them. Despite Lorrie's continual complaints, Benjamin moved closer and reached to help her.

"I got them," he began to take them from her.

When Emma came to face him, they fell from her grip. In her shock, she uttered a phrase Benjamin couldn't understand.

"¡Oh dios mío, Benjamin! ¿Que está haciendo aquí usted?"

In the nick of time, Benjamin had managed to slip his arms underneath to catch the bags. He doubted that Lorrie would've forgiven the waste. He placed them on the counter and turned back to Emma. She appeared to be staring at a ghost. The image of her hands pressed against her mouth and pallor skin created some discomfort in him.

He finally broke the silence.

"Emma, you know I don't understand Spanish. What's the matter?"

His words seemed to recover what sanity she still held. Recovering from her shock, she lowered her hands and spoke. Her eyes still looked him up then down. She seemed to expect him to evaporate at any moment.

"Ms. Hart called and said you weren't coming back home until the day after tomorrow. I had to shop and ensure we had food for when you got back. Was there a change in plan?"

Emma's voice caused a small headache to bud in his head. Images of a man surface into his mind's eye. A worn, green cap flattened black hair streaked with grey against the auburn skin. Grey eyes stared at him and gave off an aura of familiarity. The image faded shortly after leaving him with a throbbing pain in his head.

Emma's hand rested on his shoulder and her eyes filled with concern. Her voice became steady.

"Are you all right Benjamin?"

All he could do was a nod and deflect her worry with a simple word. "Yeah."

She became hesitate to accept this forcing him to farther comfort her.

"Yes, I am. I just got a headache. I must've strained something during the workout, it will pass."

He could sense the reservation in Emma when she pulled her hand back and turned to the groceries. She began to pull out various food from fresh cod to kosher salt, setting them down into a neat line.

"I'll make you some fish tacos. Or would you prefer Philly cheese steak wraps?"

Benjamin finally pushed his pain to the side to answer her.

"Fish tacos sound delicious. Would be faster than the wraps too."

Emma gave a small smile then shooed him out of the kitchen.

"I'll start it. Can you see if Mr. Reeves and Ms. Hart want something else?"

He shrugged then sulked out. He wandered around the house for a good hour, calling for Daniel and Lorrie. Neither answered him. He began to suspect they weren't home when he returned to the kitchen. By now, the aromas of baked cod filled the air. Cilantro, lime, and other seasonings heightened the already savory scents.

"I can't find them. I guess they left for something."

Emma didn't comment on it. Instead, she passed him a plate with four tacos prepared and sided by lime wedges, sided by a strange salad. He glanced at it then back to her. Seeing that he expected an answer to her creation, Emma let her smile widen and answered.

"It's a Mexican Cesar salad. I found it on the net and it's supposed to be rather healthy."

Benjamin nodded and began to head upstairs, his escape paused by Emma's voice.

"With Mr. Reeves and Ms. Hart out of the house, you know you don't have to retreat upstairs. I don't mind company while I dine in the kitchen."

Emma's offer sounded tempted as he pulled away from the stairs. He sat his plate on the counter and negotiated a bit.

"All right. I'll stay down here on one condition. The first signs of the dragon lady, you distract her and I'll make my get away upstairs. Deal?"

"Deal."
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Hidden 5 yrs ago Post by nitemare shape
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nitemare shape GM of Create A Hero and Star Wars: Legacies

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Even from his perch above the crime scene, the smoke that billowed from the remains of the 16th Precinct burned Lyger's lungs, and the smell of burning rubble and melting tar stung his nostrils. He watched from afar as rescue workers combed the scene, pulling body after body from the rubble. He watched as stunned paramedics loaded black bag after black bag into the backs of ambulances, which then drove off, carrying the remains of someone who would never make it home.

It was a familiar scene, one that he had seen repeated here again for the sixth time this night. At each site, a school bus loaded with explosives had driven into a building, causing a massive explosion that leveled the target building. The first location that had been struck was the city's central fire station, then the local state police barracks, followed by a Sheriff's Department sub station, an apartment building, City Hall, and now this, the 16th Precinct of the Crown Ridge Police Department. To Lyger, the simultaneous attacks had two purposes. The attacks on law enforcement, city government, and the fire department were meant to destabilize the city and slow down any response by those departments. The attack on the apartment building was meant to incite fear in the population.

It worked.

The tension in the air was palpable. In the wake of the attacks, the city was on edge, and Lyger knew that all it would need to descend into chaos was the just the slightest push. He alsoAs he knew that he had to act fast to keep it from coming to that. Having seen enough from his perch on the rooftop overlooking the scene of the crime, he surveyed the scene one last time before he activated the com link in his mask.

“Whisper, tell me you've got something.” He said, unable to mask the anger in his voice.

“Nothing yet boss.” Came her reply. “The only thing we know is that the buses seem to have left from the same location, east of the attacks.” She finished after a momentary pause.

“Well, that's something. I'll look into it. See if you can narrow down the location of the launch point, and I'll see what I can find.” He told her as he made his way across the rooftop.

“I'm on it.” Whisper said as the communication was cut.

From there, Lyger made his way to the corner of the rooftop, just above the alley where he had hidden his motorcycle. He took a deep breath and dove off the roof of the three story building, completely a forward flip and landing in a crouching position, thankful for the upgrades to the impact dampeners that Harry had installed in his boots before he retired. He then climbed on the bike, and started it up before riding off into the city, hoping to find any clues as to the identity of the person, or persons responsible for these attacks.

***


Meanwhile

Emma Jones sat behind the news desk waiting for the countdown until they resumed their live coverage of the attacks in Crown Ridge. As a seasoned news anchor for WCR News Center 5, Emma had reported on her fair share of horrifying and tragic stories. However, something about these most recent attacks was different. It almost felt as if this were just the beginning of some nightmare, if this was only the opening volley in a war that would tax the very souls of the people of Crown Ridge, and beyond.

“Chuck, how are we doing on that refill?” she asked, lifting her empty coffee mug toward the producer. “If we're going to keep going like this, I need my fix.”
“Joey, would you please get Emma her fucking coffee?” Chuck responded. “We're going live again in one minute.”

As the crew rushed around making last second preparations for the broadcast to resume, the studio door opened and a figure slipped onto the sound stage. The slender man was wearing a long black overcoat and a Crown Ridge Reapers cap, and did what he could to stay out of the way.
“Okay people, 10 seconds.” Chuck announced. Then, after several seconds began the countdown to going live. “And 5..4..3..2..” then he pointed to Emma, indicating that they were live.

“Welcome back to WCR News Center 5, I'm Emma Jones and we're continuing the coverage of the multiple bombings that rocked Crown Ridge earlier this evening. If you're just joining us, six locations throughout the city were bombed earlier tonight in what authorities are calling a brazen act of terror. We're told that Jose Gutierrez has more information from the Crown Ridge Police Department's 16th Precinct, which of course was one of the locations hit in this attack.”

“Terror? Oh, you don't know the first thing about terror.” The slender man in the ball cap said loudly from the corner of the studio where he had been biding his time. He stepped forward removing his cap, and for the first time those in the studio saw his jaundiced yellow skin and his sunken black eyes. “But, if you bare with me, you will.”

One of the stage hands rushed toward Insomnia, however, before he could grab the madman, Insomnia reached into his overcoat and produced a buck knife. Before the stage hand could react, the blade pierced the side of his neck, and with one quick motion, the intruder pulled the knife from the front of his throat, nearly decapitating the man where he stood. He stood over the man's body for a moment, a sinister sneer etched on his face as the rest of the studio stood in stunned silence. Then, he looked up from his handiwork and began slowly striding toward the news desk.

“You see, some people might say that I'm insane. But...I...I assure you that I am not.” He spoke as he moved toward the news desk. “The truth is, things have never been more clear to me. This world is diseased. Violence, corruption, government overreach, they are all simply symptoms of a greater truth.” He said as he reached the desk. Emma Jones looked up at him, choking on fear as he began to gently stoke her long blonde hair. Then, he began to run the dull side of the blade down her cheek.

“The truth is, the world is a nightmare. And I'm here to...” He paused. “Wake. You. Up.”

“Who...who are you?” Emma, finally channeling some of her years of investigative reporting asked.

“Oh...didn't you know?” He asked feigning hurt. “I am.....

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Hidden 5 yrs ago Post by Megsychan
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Megsychan Lucina aficionado

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Outside of Araceli's Apartment
Pacific Point, California, USA


Next time I'm getting this delivered

With a flat, square box wedged in beneath her arms, Araceli anxiously kept trying to jab a small key into the door handle in front of her. The intoxicating bouquet of freshly baked pizza wafted into her nostrils, and the blue haired woman could feel her mouth begging to drool. Saving a few bucks to get this as a carryout seemed like a good idea at the time, until she had to realize that she had to walk the whole way back, its aroma taunting her the entire time.

After struggling for a few seconds, the key finally clicked, and Araceli twisted it sideways. After pushing her wrist forward, she barged her shoulder forward to completely open the door, barreling into her own apartment. Rushing inside, the blue haired woman's eyes darted around the not-quite familiar sight of her home. The sun was starting to set, but there was plenty of natural light that she didn't feel it was necessary to turn the lights on. Instead, she aimed her sights directly to her couch, her mouth salivating with desire.

Araceli plopped the box she was holding onto a small wooden table in front of her, nearly ready to tear the thing open. Googling food joints near her apartment recommended this small, somewhat out of the way pizza place known as the Luigi Brothers; it had nearly perfect, raving reviews of it being the best pizza you can get in the entire West Coast. Some people refused to buy there, though. Not because of the quality, for the most part, but for a strange conspiracy theory Araceli couldn't understand. Apparently, Luigi Brothers only opened shortly after the Game Genie incident in Pacific Point, and that the "Luigi" that ran it was one of the escaped video game characters. Some even posit the entire staff is made up of these rogue game characters, attempting to integrate themselves in human society. It apparently attracted the attention of the Hounds of Humanity back in their heyday, but nothing could be definitely proven.

The rocker darkly chuckled as her mind jumped towards the Hounds. She was always kind of used to getting some trolls on her music uploads about her ancestry, but the amount of harassment she got for simply being powered has dramatically upticked in the past few months. Many of these commenters would identify as, or at least praise, the Hounds, and would taunt that they would get her head on a spike one day. She never took them seriously; everyone puffs up smoke on the internet to look tough, and Araceli could tell when the idiots were just trying to scare her. After all, it's not like she was no stranger to legitimate threats-

Araceli immediately opened the box, to distract herself from having to remember that day. Thankfully, the rush of aromas did the trick, and all her mind could process was the pizza in front of her. Araceli got a vegetarian pizza, loaded with peppers, onions, olives, and, from what nearly everyone raved about online, the mushrooms. No one knew for certain where they sourced the mushrooms for, but they were allegedly out of this world. Perhaps even literally so, according to some of the rumors. But, Araceli couldn't care by this point, all she could focus on was just finally taking a bite of this pie.

Araceli's eyes bulged in excitement as she finally took her first bite. The sensation in her mouth, she could only describe as being a flavor explosion. The mushrooms, the mushrooms in particular, it was just.... incomprehensibly good. By far, this was the best food she ever had north of the Rio Grande, and even then it would be a hard comparison to some of the restaurants of her childhood in Monterrey. Araceli knew her plans to save part of the pizza for tomorrow was suddenly in doubt, as finished up the first slice.

Before she devoured the rest of the pizza, however, Araceli grabbed her phone to check the time. It was a little after six, which was plenty of enough time to enjoy a few more slices, but she needed to focus on the evening. The other day, Araceli was able to score her first gig in Pacific Point, and tonight was the night she was due to make her Californian debut! It was down in some seedy nightclub down near the pier, Logan's, if she remembered the name correctly. It was a nightclub that specialized in superhero clientele, and the idea of having live entertainment from a superpowered musician appealed the owners greatly. Not exactly the most prestigious debut, but everyone has to start small. Plus, its money that wasn't from her parents, and god knows she didn't really want to touch the blood money involved in that arrangement if she didn't have to.




Logan's
Pacific Point, California, USA


Impressing superheroes was a lot of work. When you have people who can already fly, shoot laser beams out of their eyes, and run faster than the sound barrier, just throwing out random jolts of electricity from your fingertips and teleporting around bare wire isn't as impressive in comparison. The coordination to casually use her powers while not missing a beat in her songs could be described as a superpower in itself, and Araceli hoped that if nothing else, the other capes in the nightclub could at least appreciate the skill behind attempting these stunts, if nothing else.

Thankfully, Araceli has always prided herself as a musician first, and a showwoman second. The blue haired woman poured her heart out in rocking out on the guitar, allowing the instrument to do most of the emotional speaking for her. The influences of alt-metal and punk were quite evident in her composition. She was loud, aggressive, and unapologetic with her riffs, creating an abundance of energy that kept the whole of Logan's grooving. Araceli especially gave it her all in the solos, which she had plenty of fun testing the absolute limits of her set-up, trying to dazzle the clientele with fast, technical playing. It was, admittingly, weird to be playing with recordings of a bass and drumline, rather than having her friends be providing the backup instrumentation, but, finding a bunch of other stand ins just for one gig in a nightclub on this short of a notice was too much of a tall order. Better to just use recordings and play along with it.

Ever since going solo, Araceli knew she had to start singing herself: instrumentals in contemporary music were the rare exception. She was the one who would write the lyrics in the first place, back with her band in Mexico, so it wasn't like she didn't know the material, or had a basic competency to it. However, she definitely did not feel as comfortable with it as she did with her guitar playing, but she tried as hard as possible to make sure that was not communicated throughout the concert. The fact that she was largely singing in Spanish, as she was far more comfortable in her native tongue, most likely helped Araceli mask her singing in an aura of mystery to the mostly English-speaking nightclub.

That being said, Araceli was overall extremely happy with herself. The crowd was undeniably energetic, matching the electrical abilities of the rocker. There was little doubt in her mind that she'll be invited to play back another time, if other bars and nightclubs don't try to poach her first. If things went as smoothly as this, she'll be getting her studio album soon enough. Just had to stick it out long enough to get there.

When her set finished, last call had already came and went. It was past midnight, and most of the patrons were already flowing out of Logan's. Some to go home, but perhaps more to go engage in superhero-or-villainy, hyped by the soundtrack Araceli gave them. At only 18, Araceli was legally too young to even be engaging in such drinking up north, but the bartender just winked at her as she approached the bar, and slid her a shot of rum, for the road. He claimed she deserved something for the show she put on.

Quickly downing the shot, Araceli slowly started to walk out, equipment in hand. One of the last patrons in the bar, a woman in a winged blue mask, patted Araceli on the back as she left, and offered to help her carry any of it home with her. Araceli politely declined, but stopped to chat with her for a few minutes. Reisen was her name, and Araceli could tell she was absolutely enthralled with her performance.

"Check out my Soundcloud," Araceli winked, as she finally walked out of the door.

The walk back to her apartment was uneventful. Although there were still cars driving around, and Araceli was by no means the only pedestrian walking about, Pacific Point was definitely much quieter now than it was when Araceli was walking to Logan's. The slob she was, Areceli only managed to leave one slice of that pizza in the fridge before heading out, and she knew she wanted it as soon as she got home. It was the only thing that was on her mind as she was strolling through the shoreline.

That is, until, she noticed a knife pointed at her neck.
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Hidden 5 yrs ago Post by DearTrickster
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DearTrickster

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Location: Croll Corner - Lost Haven
Time: 1 Month Ago


Parting ways with Maddie and Marie once they had returned safely to The Shadow of the Moon, one parting glance at the Wyrd Trio surrounding Maddie. In her back pocket was the weighty alchemical key, there was a certain amount of pride knowing she solved such a massive puzzle. Charlie took a long way home, careful to watch her back for anyone trying to follow her. Exercising some caution.

Tracking along the side of Croll Corner she rounded the other side, passing by the garden using her key to unlock the door. Lights were on and she knew someone would be up right now, she hoped she’d catch her gramps before he shuffled off to bed.

I’m home!” She called out and shuffled out of her shoes, tapping her staff against the floor to hear a resounding tap from down in the basement against the floor. Cracking a smile she stepped down into the basement to see Nathanial smiling at her from his desk, a small bowl of cactus half done in front of him.

Taking out the alchemical key from her pocket she proudly showed him how it perfectly balanced on the tip of her finger, “I figured it out.

“Congratulations, Charlie. I knew you could puzzle it out.” Nathaniel said with a clap of his hands, crows feet crinkling, smiling brightly - always pleased for her success.

Dragging over a stool to sit by Nathaniel she put the key aside and began to gush, “Water! Immersed in water it reacted completely different than being tested with other liquid state elements. Nitrogen, mercury - none of it was doing anything! It was almost as hard to reset it back to its original state to restart the experiments with new angles. This was beyond tricky.

Nathaniel nodded, “As it was meant to be. It was designed to frustrate anyone for a long time but you did well to figure it out in a handful of days. Truly, Charlie, well done. Exactly what I would expect of my grandchildren.” Gently squeezing her hand, there was no mistaking the pride that shone in his eyes.

She grinned sheepishly, embarrassed he was laying it on so thick but it was exactly what she wanted to hear.

“We were worried, Charlie. That. . . You wouldn’t find something to focus on, we worried you’d spend the summer uninspired and restless trying to find your own path.” Nathaniel began Charlie listened, leaning forward, “We certainly do not approve of you picking fights with a witch-hunting group, helping Madalena and that - necromantic creature-”

Her name is Berry, Gramps.

“Of course, of course, sorry Char.” He shook his head, then nodded, “Berry, helping Berry find a safe place. You like helping people.”

“I don’t go outta my way, Gramps. They just kinda. . . Pop up and need help.” Charlie said with a shrug.

“You do help, kiddo. I’m proud of you, that’s all we can really hope for out of you kids - we can rest easy knowing you’ll do the right thing no matter what.” He said with a firm squeeze and pat across her knuckles, “Alchemy, family, the tradition it’s all apart of it - carving your name into the world, our name.”

She nodded seriously, it was important to her - living up to her name and making something out of herself. She felt a bubbling sense of pressure form in her gut, she didn’t shy away from it, she wanted to embrace it.

Yeah Gramps, I know. Won’t let you down.” The thought of her gut turned her back to what she wanted to talk to him all day about, “Hey Gramps, I’ve been feeling pretty weird lately.

“Have you been taking your daily vitamins and sleeping enough-”

Charlie shook her head, “No no, I’m not sick just I’ve been getting weird feelings every time some spooky shit happens.” She began, Nathaniel nodded along listening as he did, he began tinkering away at the bowl, “It’s like all my instincts are freaking out whenever something witchy or spirity happens around me. I get goosebumps, the works.

Squeezing her knuckles to pop, Charlie’s expression pulled into a frown, “I know as alchemists we’re connected to a variety of things but I’ve never felt this weird feeling so strongly before.

Nathaniel nodded along, bobbing his grey-haired head, “Have you seen anything?”

Just the odd spirit, I don’t really see it until it shows itself - but. . .I know it’s there.” She said hunching over the work table, “Do you see stuff, Gramps?

He frowned shaking his head, “I have a connection with my garden but spirits elude me.”

What about mom?

He shook his head, “She’s never mentioned seeing spirits.”

Scratching at some of the grain, “Is it just because of all the witchy stuff or do you think Puck did something?

“We are sensitive to a lot of different types of magic, Char. Generations of mixing with other practitioners from witches, diviners, mediums, clairvoyants, enchanters. . .” He said looking to her, referring to her Dad, “As time goes on our family remains strongly capable alchemists but as we find the world is malleable, so are we.” He reached across the desk to pick a little decorative piece to add at the base of the succulent.

Yeah and?

So,” He said patiently, “Consider it like we’re O type blood.”

Oh, cool. Makes sense I guess,” She replied thinking about her dad, feeling a little bit of sadness wash up. Wondering if either she or Harry would have picked up how to enchant the way he did. As much as an art as it was a science, it wasn’t often but when she missed him - she missed him.

Nathaniel placed the little shell along the succulent glancing over to Charlie, noticing her drop in mood, “You’ll have to ring up one of your aunts or uncles. I know your cousin, Kate is trying to study occult with a focus on souls. She might help you out in understanding whatever you’re feeling.”

Krazy Kate.” Charlie resounded that earned her a glare from Nathaniel, “What? It’s true.

“Name-calling is really ironic coming from our resident Trash Can Croll,” Nathaniel said, Charlie grumbled at that, he continued, “Every generation has one with their noses in the books and they end up making amazing breakthroughs. Be nice.

She never joins the spars, Gramps. Just shys away.” Charlie complained, “But whatever, I’ll see if I can talk to her.

“Just because you and Charles buttheads doesn’t mean others want to get in between that,” Nathaniel said pointing a finger at her.

Sighing dramatically she stood up, kissing Nathaniel on the top of his head, “Thanks for the talk, Gramps.

“Goodnight, kiddo.”

Charlie stepped quickly up the stairs to the first floor, making a stop in the kitchen to grab something quick to eat, heading all the way up to the third-floor balcony to get some fresh air. Hang out with the planters, a hand in some homemade trail mix.

Shoving a mouthful of trail mix into her mouth, she leaned across the bannister scrolling through her phone - the screen cracked in a dozen places. Above her, on the roof, an increasingly familiar figure sat casually by the antenna, where he had been waiting for the Croll household to settle in for the night.

He watched on his kin, the culmination of so many generations - young, capable and infuriatingly ignorant. He moved quietly to the edge of the roof, not making a sound. He sat on his haunches, elbows resting on his knees, willing her to notice him.

Charlie stopped halfway into another handful of trail mix, feeling a distinct tingle at the back of her neck. Pausing to swallow, she wondered how quickly she could be to drop the food and grab her staff. Something wasn’t right.

“Go on. Grab your staff.” Oswald said, monotoned - distinctly germanic to Charlie’s ears, “You’ll feel safer, I’m sure.”

She took a breath turning her head to look over her shoulder.
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Hidden 5 yrs ago 5 yrs ago Post by Torack
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Torack The Golden Apple

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Portland, Maine

Damian walked out into his living room dressed to go out: a simple grey tee and a pair of denims; his wife, Jessica lounging on their beige sofa, her laptop in front of her on the coffee table and a pair of headphones over her head, engrossed in whatever show she was streaming.

Sitting down on a nearby chair to put on his shoes, Damian wondered if he should interrupt his wife and convince her to follow him. She’d been saying for a while that she wanted to be more of a part in his new life. Ever since his powers came, he’d been careful not to divulge anything too insane to Jessica, but she insisted that she could handle whatever he could throw at her.

Leaning over, he tapped her ankle. She turned to him, half removing the headphones.

“Heading out?” She asked.

“I’m going to a nearby library I just found nearby,” he said as he started doing the laces on his shoes. “Wanna come along?”

“To a library?”

“Well, more of an occult library.”

Jessica sat up, an eyebrow raised. “Really? I thought you wanted to keep that sorta thing to yourself."

“I did, but this could be like a date. A really dark sorta date.”

“How romantic,” she said dryly, but stood up anyway. “Give me a few minutes to get ready.”

He nodded and watched her walk off. A few moments later he heard the shower turn on and he pulled out his phone, idly going through his social media feed, his mind however was drifting away as it usually did. He’d been deliberating whether or not he should take her for a while, trying to figure out the pros and cons of involving her more into his life and whether that would endanger her. But had ultimately decided that who he now was had done enough to endanger all of his loved ones’ lives and he could at least help in regards to teaching her a few protection spells.

If she wanted to learn of course. Damian leaned back on the chair and crossed his legs letting out a sigh. It had been several months since he got his magical powers and life was… the same. He’d expected his life to change drastically, for the hero life to come knocking on his door and send him off into whatever adventure there was. Instead, he continued living his mundane, everyday life as if nothing had happened. As if he wasn’t an extremely powerful sorcerer.

It had certainly made life far more convenient. He didn’t need to stand up anymore to get the remote, he didn’t even need to touch the damn thing. He didn’t need to commute to work — although he still did in order to keep potential eyes off of him, save for when traffic was exceptionally bad. Practical jokes, whenever he was up for doing them, was something of a fun past-time. A bit immature, true, but the reactions of bewilderment from a randomly moving broom in the middle of a ward or papers suddenly disappearing were hilarious. For a while anyway.

At least the practical jokes on his wife were an endless source of amusement. Who knew resigned annoyance could be more hilarious than absolute confusion.

A few minutes later Jessica walked back into the living room dressed in casual clothes. Pocketing his phone, Damian stood up and made his way over to the car with her and once inside, pulled out of the driveway.
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Hidden 5 yrs ago Post by Mercinus3
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Mercinus3

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In
 
A Man Out of Time #8: Breaking the Silence

Location: Pacific Point, California

 
It had been days since The Wanderer’s introduction to the fantastic building that is the library. So much knowledge within the walls that few people surprisingly didn’t use often enough. The mutant poured over the history of the world and everything he could during the time he hadn’t been searching for the cause of the Esper family death. While the information about the world before him was fascinating, it was frustrating that he could not find anything relating to it. Not in the archive of newspapers, not in the local gossip, not even from words of the other patrons of the library. His frustrations boiled over a few times with loud moans but were quickly silenced with various hushes.
 
The Wanderer had made a little corner for himself towards the back of the library. The chief librarian had agreed that with him not having a home to go to that he would make himself comfortable near the breakroom. Despite many protestations from the mutant and the thought the moans would get the better of them, the librarian insisted that he stay there. “After all, he did save us from those monsters,” was the typical retort to his arguments. In the end, he gave up and just resided there. Another even managed to lend him a gym membership to access the shower facilities. With a steady place to stay and cleaner than he has ever been, The Wanderer carried on with his research.
 
After several hours of researching, another moan escaped his lips. ” It can’t be this hard to find at least a clue to a possible suspect,” he said, muffled by the shushes from the other patrons. Realizing that this wasn’t getting him anywhere again, he walks towards the breakroom and enters it. With his trademark coat still by his place, his frame was nothing but the slightly rusted armour covering his body and the revolver that hung on his hip. ” If there’s one thing I’m glad that I’ve come to this timeline for, it’s for this… ‘coffee’…” He grabs one of the mugs near the sink and pours yet another cup of the black liquid. Coffee hadn’t been around in the future, and if there were, it was nothing but a mouldy powder that was undrinkable. The caffeine that registered in his head and the bitter taste took to him like a fish to water. Taking a sip, he looked at the empty pot. While he had contemplated walking back to where he was staying, he decided to make another brew. At least that would be courteous to the librarians, he thought as he set the machine up for the umpteenth time. I really should pay them back for this genero…
 
Once the machine was set, a loud bang was heard from the other side of the door. Sounding like gunfire, The Wanderer walked out of the breakroom to investigate, coffee in hand. It didn’t take him long before he found the source of the shot, keeping out of sight behind a few bookshelves. “Come on, old man… We know you’ve been hiding a few superpowered heroes in this fine establishment of yours. Just give them up, and no one else would be harmed.” The mutant looked at the scene as one of the men held the receptionist at gunpoint. Several other men had spread themselves out throughout the library, keeping all the patrons hostage. Between one of the stairs to the upper levels and the desk was a body, limp in position as the carpet was slowly being stained with blood.
 
“This is a public library… We wouldn’t have any…” the librarian muttered, her voice scared from the shock.
 
The masked man frowned, his eyes showing some annoyance. “I will give you to the count of 5 before I put a maggot hole in that thick skull of yours, bitch. One…” The man cocked his pistol and fired another shot into the ceiling. “Two!” He holsters his pistol as he storms up to one of his compatriots. “Three!” Reaching his companion, he was given a spare rifle. Cocking the gun, the man storms back to the desk. “Four!” Reaching the counter, he raises the gun towards the receptionist.
 
Before he could pull the trigger, a loud sipping noise was head in the immediate area. The men that heard it raised their guns towards its source, including the man that was about to shoot the receptionist. The Wanderer had seen enough and decided to deal with the problem. With coffee in hand, he lowered the mug from his lips and sighed with delight as the liquid went down smoothly. ” Nothing quite beats a cup of coffee on this beautiful day,” he announced, looking at the mug. He had been bored from the entire affair of research, so he was going to have some fun. ” It would be a shame if I had to spill some of it due to a couple of assholes…”
 
“Who the fuck do you think you are?!” The man with the rifle shouted.
 
” To most of these people, just an annoyance that moans too much. To you guys, I guess you could say I’m one of those… ‘heroes’ you are looking out for.”
 
The man with the rifle couldn’t believe his luck. “Alright, boys! Looks like we’re getting paid! If you would like to come with us, no one else would be harmed.”
 
” And who said I would be going?” The Wanderer, still not giving them their full attention, raised the mug to his lips for another sip.
 
Bang!
 
The mug shattered under the impact of the bullet, splashing coffee everywhere. “We make the demands here, asshole! You’re coming with us!” Looking at nothing but the handle and drenched in the coffee he was drinking, the mutant turned his head towards the supposed ring leader. Fury was now in his eyes, an ebb of purple flames emanating from them.
 
”Big mistake, jerkoff.”
 
Raising his hand, The Wanderer blasted the ringleader square in the chest. With the surprise attack, the man was sent flying into the wall near the entrance. Instantly unconscious, he crumpled into a heap. After a few moments to take in the surprise of their boss being taken down, the rest of them trained their guns at him, aiming to kill. The mutant then walked into view of everyone. With a smirk on his face, put his hands together and cracked his knuckles. ”Well… let’s get this over with, shall we?”
--------
A few moments later, with nothing but gunfire sounding out from the library and the sirens of the police, the lead officer grabbed the megaphone. “Remember men, we save the hostages first and arrest the captors,” the bald man said. Finally ready, he pulled the device to his lips. “We have you surr…”
 
Before he could finish, one man came crashing through the glass door, falling into an unconscious heap. With all police officers raising their weapons in readiness, more of the gunmen were thrown out of the building. After the 10th man was thrown out, The Wanderer emerged. With now the police aiming their guns at the coffee-soaked mutant, he sighs. ”Relax… These are the men you are after…”
 
Hours went by as the gunmen were rounded up, statements were given, and the injured man was taken to the hospital, The Wanderer walked up to the officer in charge. ” I take it you were as surprised as I was when these gunmen attacked a library in broad daylight?” he inquired.
 
“Surprised doesn’t quite cover it,” the bald man responded, eyes looking at the hero. “However, with a lot of criminals going after superpowered heroes in the past couple of days it’s, it’s only going to get worse.”
 
The news of criminals attacking heroes being a surprise, The Wanderer took a more serious tone. ” What do you mean ‘criminals going after superpowered heroes’?”
 
“Well… talking to a few of the ones we arrested and were cooperating, there seems to be a $500k bounty placed on heroes winding up dead. We have no idea where this came about, but a few of the small-time heroes were already killed in the process.”
 
”I see… Well, I guess I have to help find out where this bounty is coming from. Thanks for the information.” The Wanderer turned and began walking towards the broken library entrance.
 
“And Wanderer… Be safe…” The mutant raised his hand in acknowledgement as he entered the library.
 
Once inside, the mutant immediately walked to the place where his stuff was. Donning on the coat, he turned to walk back out of the building to begin his exit. He paused for a moment to think about something. After a brief moment, he turned again and walked towards the breakroom. When he entered, he said hi to the shaken librarians and reached the coffee pot. Grabbing another mug, he poured himself another cup. As he turned to leave, he caught a glimpse of the broken door. ” When I get back, I’ll make sure I get anything damaged replaced,” he said, feeling guilty for the damage he had done throwing the men about.
 
“I think after being taken hostage and you saving us, you don’t have to worry,” the receptionist replied, appreciation apparent in her tone. “But make sure you get back safe an unharmed, ok?”
 
Smiling as he walked out, he called back to them. ” I intend to. But I’m still replacing damaged items.” Walking out of the building, The Wanderer looked to the city. ”Now then… where to begin…” he said as he took a sip of his coffee.
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Hidden 5 yrs ago 5 yrs ago Post by nitemare shape
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nitemare shape GM of Create A Hero and Star Wars: Legacies

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“You've got to be fucking kidding me.” Alison Sparks said to herself as she processed the information staring back at her from her computer screen. When she had agreed to help Racheli look into her father's death, she figured that it would be an open and shut case. Michael Garth was dead an buried, simple as that. And to most people who might be looking, it would appear that this was the case. However, when one has the resources that being Richard Midas' right hand affords you, the ability to look a bit deeper can be quite illuminating. According to the records, Michael Garth was pronounced dead by a local medical examiner named James MacGrath shortly after being executed on Death Row. MacGrath also conducted the autopsy and then shipped the body to the Parker Funeral Home in Hood River Oregon, where Michael's body was cremated.

There was only one problem with the official record of events. Neither a medical examiner named James MacGrath or a Parker Funeral Home exist, or existed in the entire state of Oregon. Then, there was the fact that someone who looked exactly like him was caught on a security camera in a Price Chopper in Saint Johnsbury, Vermont shortly before the Hounds of Humanity attacks as well as the fact that Racheli had received a birthday card from someone claiming to be her father, and the fact that the writing on the card was a perfect match for Michael Garth. When adding up all the evidence Alison came to one conclusion:

Either Racheli's father was alive, or someone was doing their damnedest to make it look like he was.

Ms Sparks inserted a USB drive into the computer and began copying the files on Racheli's father onto it. As the data was being copied to the drive, Alison felt a sudden pang of sympathy for the woman. Someone was playing fast and loose with Racheli's life, and Sparks knew first hand how agonizing that could be.

“Oh Rach, I'm so sorry.” Sparks said aloud as the data was being copied to the drive. However, she didn't have time to dwell on her thoughts, as her phone began to ring just as the data finished copying.
Sparks looked at the phone and saw that the call was coming from a familiar number.

“Hey Boss, what's up?” Sparks said as she answered the phone.

“Good evening Ms Sparks, I have something for you.” Richard Midas' voice said from the other end of the line. “I need you to go into Crown Ridge tonight to meet our friend at his base of operations. We have much to discuss, and I want my best person on it.”

“I understand.” Sparks said coolly. “What time?”

“8 o'clock. Don't be late.” Midas warned her.

“I'll be there.” Sparks said, her praying that her voice didn't give any hint of the trepidation she was feeling. “I just have one stop to make, then I'll head right over.”

“Good, Midas said. Again, this is a sensitive meeting, don't do anything to embarrass me.” Midas said, his voice even, but a none so subtle reminder that he hasn't forgiven her for allowing Racheli to join up with the heroes during the battle of Sherman Square. “I'll be keeping an 'Eye' on you.”
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Hidden 5 yrs ago Post by eravicis
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eravicis resident healer

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L O C A T I O N: Somewhere in Hollywood, California
T I M E: Present Day ( July ) — a little past midnight

*italics denotes dialogue spoken in either Chinese or Korean

The weather was shining, overwhelmingly hot, and without signs of relief in the middle of July. With the cars blaring their horns as if they had a right to go first, traffic was incessant and nothing would stop them from rushing to their next location. All in all, it was a busy day, like any other typical day.

The news was displaying news coverage was talking about the recent events that happened in a city called Lost Haven. A young woman lifted her head from looking down at her phone, her face mask and sun hat covering her features from being recognized while she wore an inconspicuous outfit. It was a plain loosely knitted cream colored sweater that revealed her shoulder with a white cami underneath and washed out light blue jeans and white sneakers. There was a small black bag slung over her shoulder as she sat waiting for her flight, blinking at the news.

"I hope that's not—"

Footsteps approached her and her bodyguard shook his head as he sat down beside her. "Looks like Mei's plan to travel to Lost Haven backfired," he said in Korean.

Her eyes turn to him. "Why? Where are we going now?"

"We're going to New York for a while—said it's safer there. Plus, the news media will think you've gone to Lost Haven so they won't know to follow you to New York."

The woman turned her attention back to the phone. Well, that shouldn't be so bad then. If she remembered correctly, a few of her friends should be there. But then, she wondered if they remembered her.

Nodding her head at the bodyguard, she waited for them to be called into the plane.

— x —

L O C A T I O N: Somewhere from the Kennedy Airport to an apartment in NYC
T I M E: Present Day ( July ) — about 6 - 7 AM

When her plane landed and she was walking through the tunnel that attached itself to the plain, she peeked out of the small windows to spot a black crow sitting on one of the workers' golf carts. With another blink, it flew off and see quickly turned her head to follow after her bodyguard.

The lights and the traffic didn't feel any different than how it was in Hollywood, the car horns blaring and the lights flickering with advertisements and the news. By the time she arrived at the apartment that her manager, Mei, bad leased for her under her brother's name, Athena was finally able to take off her face mask and hat.

Looking around, it was furnished with a contemporary style of a modern aesthetic. Hm, looks like her brother had a hand in decorating. But, looking around one of the few personal items that littered the apartment was in her room: a small picture frame no larger than the size of her hand and an envelope with her name on it. When she picked up the envelope, she heard Jayden tell her to get some rest and that he'll be back with some breakfast after he had made sure to check out the rest of the apartment. When the sound of the door closed, and it's lock echoing throughout the apartment, she set down the envelope and went into the kitchen.

She pulled out a ceramic bowl, big enough to see her reflection and set it down in her room's sitting table. She went looking for the small bag of supplies she requested of her brother to provide and found it in her bathroom under the sink. Once she perused the contents, she left to head back. It was only after she drew the curtains, she pulled out some Raven feathers, a braided Celtic knot of mugwort, yew, and Willow, and arranged three small scented candles around the bowl in places of what would be north, west, and east. After placing the Raven feathers inside the bowl, she gathered the knot in hand and began to focus. Normally, she'd decorate with some Jasmines and some other things but with this not being her home, she wanted to gather everything else over time.

"It's time for some fun and games; after all, what's life without a little bit of chaos?" she called out.

The water began to swirl and soon, it wasn't her reflection anymore, but another—an elderly woman that bore red eyes and a tattoo by her eye. Unassuming and perhaps even plain, there was nothing about her that spoke of something… extraordinary.

"Hello, Morrigan, Athena here, reporting and checking in," she greeted with a smile. Tapping the bowl, she checked to see if the connection went through. "I hope the connection is coming in clear?"

The elderly woman flinched at the tapping. Her red eyes took on a scolding expression as she frowned.

"Please dear, don't tap on the bowl. I like my hearing undamaged..." The Morrigan's voice spoke in a reprimanding tone.

"Oh, sorry."

The voice wavered with the ripples of the water causing a small distortion. When they settled, the older woman continued.

"My sources told me you're in New York City instead of Lost Haven. A little change in travel plans?" Amusement crept into her words for a moment, then vanished when she moved on.

And the only thing Athena could do was helplessly shrug.

"Since you're in that area, I do have a task for you. I hope you can clear your schedule for it."

Tilting her head and tapping a finger to her chin in thought, Athena hummed and nodded. "I'm supposed to be here to get some R&R so my schedule is pretty open, for now." It's been a while since Morrigan had given her a task. "What can I do for you?"

"Do you recall Benjamin Reeves?" Morrigan asked.

There's the recognition that flashed through her eyes, it's movement flickering around the bowl as she looked for the familiar figure. "What about Ben? Why? Did something happen to him?" Concern colored her tone.

"Deary, pay attention to me. It's not that Ben. It's the other one."

Athena sighed a breath of relief, briefly but the frown remained.

Her hand rose and a blackbird fluttered onto it. Morrigan lowered it to her lap where she began to pet it, its feathers wafted off dark magic with each touch. She continued the conversation in a calm voice.

“Well, there’s been a few complications. My little friend," she paused to show the creature, then lowered her hand again, "Has found him in New York City. How he got from Las Vegas to New York is a mystery, but I'm hoping you can figure it out. You will keep close to him and keep him safe."

The idol hummed thoughtfully, wondering if there was another power at hand. If Morrigan didn't know…

What caught her attention, however, was the fact that Ben was in the same city. Her best friend, Ben. A rare occurrence, certainly, but not unwelcome. That simply meant it was time for her to catch up.

"I can do that, yes," Athena started slowly. And then she shifted in her seat, tapping a finger to the table. "Is that all you'll have me do? Is there anything else I should know before I go into all of this?"

"Yes, and check-in with me over his progress. Remember he can't know anything about his future. As for where he lives, I don't believe he's moved. So he should be easy to find." Morrigan took a tanker and took a long draft.

Athena slowly nodded, conflict flashing behind dark eyes.

Morrigan inhaled after the drink then raised her hands.

"Now, get to work. If I think of anything else, I’ll send a crow."

And then the conflict was gone as if she remembered something. "Will do. Until next time then, Morrigan." And she made a genuine smile and a little wave.

Morrigan shook her head. Her image faded, becoming more shadow until it completely vanished.

With Morrigan gone, Athena leaned back in her seat and stretched. She glanced back at the clock and with a hum, noted it's a little after 7 AM. Cleaning up the ingredients and focus, she set them aside and returned them to their appropriate places with naught a trace. With a yawn, feeling the jet lag and exhaustion from her lack of sleep on the plane, she began to prepare for bed. As she did so, she pulled out her cellphone and skimmed through her recent contacts to find Benjamin's. Ah, the recent scandal had left their recent messages back a little over three weeks ago. Even without Morrigan's instructions, she would've gone to see Ben anyway. But now, it had a purpose and she had to stop beating herself up for the decision.

[sms; 7:39 AM] to: Best Boy, Ben
Hey, Benjamin! Guess where I am?
[sms; 7:39 AM] to: Best Boy, Ben
[attached file]

She grinned, satisfied with her message, and proceeded to head to bed.
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Hidden 5 yrs ago Post by Mercinus3
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Mercinus3

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RACHELI


and



and



It was a brand new day and people were busy as always in the French Quarter of Lost Haven. People were making their way through the bustling streets, walking past the various cafes, pastry shops, and restaurants. For a normal weekend day, people who were off work spent time with friends and family with day trips to the museums and art galleries. With the summer going into full swing, various ice cream places and water fountains were open for people to enjoy the cold delights that are sorely needed under the sun. With the sun beyond the peak of noon, the intense heat was easing off with the cool breeze.

Near one of the cafes, Kayla stood by. As it was a day for her to spend time with Racheli and Jai, she decided to take the time and make herself more presentable than the usual overalls they have seen her wear. Despite the uneasiness in showing off the scarring on her left shoulder, she opted for a palm-print cami, a pair of blue jeans and floral-patterned Vans. A thin chain hung from her neck that something hid in the cover of her top. Behind her daytime shooting glasses, her eyes scanned the crowds to look out for the people she is intending to meet.

Tonight was the perfect night to go hunting, but there was one issue: Kayla. 'Racheli' reflected on the woman's reaction to her behaviour and disliked it. The woman would become an issue later. The thought drew a sigh from Racheli's lips as she picked out her outfit for the day.

After some searching, she settled on high waist military cargo pants and a black halter top. She tapped the boots to ensure they were snug before she exited the apartment.

The hot weather was suffocating to walk through. The air seemed to hand off her like a clinging child and worsen with each movement. After a bit of searching, she finally spotted Kayla.

Part of her toyed with the thought of vanishing back into the crowd and stalking this woman. She dismissed and stepped forward, breaking from the mass. Her right raised up for Kayla to spot.

It was nice that Kayla and Racheli invited Jai to join them on their day out. Though, he felt that it was unnecessary to invite him to what he could only assume was originally a girls' day out, it would no longer feel like a girl's day out if he joined. Still, Kayla insisted. (Something about him being too much of a recluse since he's moved here.)

Opting for a white linen shirt with a portion of its sleeves rolled up to his elbows and some washed-out blue jeans, Jai forwent the boots he typically wore for some non-slip Old Skool Vans in its typical black pattern. Accessorizing himself with a leather bracelet that Leila had been kind enough to give him and a leather necklace with a shark tooth as a pendant, the soldier mused the overall look. Unused to civilian life, but he found that his ordinary sense of style was fitting enough for summer. Picking up his wallet, cell phone, and his keys, he was set.

Donning a pair of Ray-Bans, Jai swam through the crowd of people, using his height to his advantage to find the meeting place that Kayla set for them. He's several yards behind a familiar silhouette, watching her wave to catch Kayla's attention.

Kayla sighed as the time ticked on. She considered going to the nearest gelateria and grabbing a scoop to have while she waited. However, a raised hand in the crowd was caught in the corner of her eye and the familiar face of Racheli was enough to smile and stand up from the wall. She began walking towards her friend, keeping a calm pace as she meandered through the crowd. A moment later, she finally reached Rach.

”I hope you didn’t have trouble finding this place,” she commented, her eyes warm in their greeting.

“I’m still new to Haven, but I managed to find it. It’s better than most places I’ve been in,” Rach pointed out, her attitude attempted to be positive.

As soon as the greeting was made, it didn’t take long for the archer to notice the hulking frame of Jai. She had thought about the last time they spoke, but with him being here it seemed that he dismissed it as another emotional episode. Her eyes changed shape to a mischievous one as she watched him approach.

”I guess we can manage to get you out of where you were hiding?" she shouted out cheekily, a smirk following her teasing taunt.

Jai glanced around their surroundings, precautionary—habit—before he settled his gaze on the two women who’s now spotted him. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary and he made his way over. It was only upon his approach did she speak loud enough for him to hear and he raised a brow in response, hidden vaguely by his bangs, noting that it's her way of teasing him back.

Rach’s attention turned to Jai’s figure when Kayla noted him. Unlike Kayla, he didn’t seem to notice anything off or give her reason to believe he suspected anything. She noted that might change as the day wore on.

“I assume you didn’t call us here for a casual visit, did you?” Rach asked, getting down to the point now that they were all here.

He heard Rach's words as he came up behind her. "Greetings," he nodded in acknowledgement. "While leisurely escapades are what I imagine the pair of you often do, but I am curious as to your plans—my own plans notwithstanding." Another jab at his rather reclusive life. What he did in his own time when he was no longer in the garage will perhaps be remained to be seen.

Idly, he took note of each of their outfits and their current behavior while shifting to keep an eye out to their surroundings.

Kayla chuckled in response. ”I definitely know that feeling. Was the same for me four years ago. You’ll get used to the city in due time.” That was certainly true. While the past few months had been crazy with a lot of the major events such as D-Day and Pax Metahumana, the city had adapted and survived.

Just as Jai arrived to the little trio, both he and Racheli asked her the same question. She smiled, closing her eyes to make a faux-cutesy expression. ”Nope, just to see if we could get Jai out of his cave and enjoy some clothes shopping,” she replied to both of them, her upbeat tone hinting sarcasm in it. She chuckled, her eyes hidden underneath her eyelashes to scan for any eavesdroppers.

“I figure setting it on fire might do that trick,” Rach seemed to tease.

The soldier was impassive, tilting his head in question toward Kayla. "Your sarcasm is duly noted," Jai remarked. If they honestly thought they were going to drag him for some clothes shopping, they had another thing coming. His eyes flit to Rach, brow lifting at the seemingly harmless tease. Did Rach ever make any teasing comments like that before?

Once Kayla was certain there was no one around, her face quickly dissolved away from the happy expression she had. In its place, the cold, calculated expression she often had when the cowl was on.

”But in all seriousness, you guys are right,” she spoke, an icy tone apparent with the seriousness of the topic. ”I think I finally caught wind of those murders we have been tracking for the past month. If I am right, we need to be out in the streets tonight to stop this serial killer.”

Racheli didn’t react for a moment. She shook her head, disbelief in her movements as she spoke.

“The guy is too clever to be caught. How do you figure this new trail of information is worth following?”

Jai crossed his arms across his chest, a hand lifted to hold his chin in thought. He heard about the murders from Leila, but she was under the assumption that it had nothing to do with their current mission of finding out the string of anomalies that frequently caused supernatural disasters in Lost Haven. But, if two friends asked him to investigate it, then he would.

Unfortunately, having been pulled into such an investigation without any information left him with only the ability to observe and listen for what information they currently had. He took further notes on both Kayla and Rach for the duration of the conversation, monitoring for any changes.

"Is this really the place to be talking about this?" he asked. He made a mental note to ask Leila to use her abilities and natural talent for finding information after this meeting about these murders.

Kayla paused for a moment, causing her to think carefully about the information she was about to give. While her initial look made it seem that no one is watching them, hearing them out in the open was another matter and someone could catch wind of the conversation.

”I think the tiredness of everything that happened yesterday played with the cases in mind and something clicked,” she replied, her right hand raised towards her chin in a fist. When Jai spoke up about this being the place to talk about it, the archer nodded. ”I figured as much. Just figured we meet and raise that point before we go into details. There’s a quiet bookstore that has a cafe inside. I’ll take you to it.” Using the balled right hand to produce a wave, unclenching it to motion them to follow her, she began walking.

-----------

The bookstore was located around the corner from where they met. Stuck between two busy restaurants, it was often overlooked by most of the crowd. The weathered bookshelves were crammed with some of the latest bestsellers and favourites of years gone by, the old wooden floorboards matching the bookshelves. With chandeliers hanging above and a fireplace in the middle of the ground floor, the floor gave off a pleasant atmosphere. Further towards the back of the store, past the first set of staircases to another floor of books, a dinky cafe resided. With the coffeemaker lining against the back wall and a case of homemade cakes and treats next to the counter, there were plenty of places for people to sit between the two floors.

Kayla quickly ordered a green tea from the lady behind the counter. While she waited for the others to get whatever they wanted, she found a table in the corner of the room that was far away from prying eyes and ears. Sitting down, she poured the sachet of honey that came with the tea and stirred it around, making sure the golden liquid dissolved thoroughly. Taking another sip, she waited for her friends to sit down before she told them the information.

Racheli sighed then followed Kayla. Her eyes shifted from side to side across the interior when she entered the small dingy cafe. Casually she placed her hands in her pockets. She paid for a small, black coffee. Unbothered by the heat, she walked back to the table where everyone was going to meet.

As she reached her seat, Rach slouched down into it. She tapped her fingers on the table while she crossed her leg underneath. Obviously, she was waiting for Kayla to continue.

After Jai's initial perusal of their surroundings upon their arrival, he opted for an espresso, the dainty cup waiting to drained of its contents on the table Kayla selected for this meeting. Once he sat down, like Rach, he waited with a questionable lift of his brow.

From the moment she saw Racheli grabbing the coffee, Kayla knew something was up. From the moment both women had been in the Hound’s base to now, she has known her friend to avoid hot drinks. Not unless the apparition that came with Rach made its irritable moan. And the moment between getting the coffee and sitting down to listen to what she has to say would have been the perfect opportunity for it to show up. It was that moment that all the pieces came together. Gotcha, you motherfucker, she thought triumphantly, keeping her stone-faced façade up to hide that fact.

As soon as Jai sat down, Kayla was ready to give her information, ”At first, the murders of the women didn’t seem to connect in any way at all. The different backgrounds of the women made it difficult for the police to figure out. Just the dark brown hair, blue eyes and slim build and that it was the husband that did it.” The archer paused to take a sip of her green tea. ”However, with everything that happened yesterday, I just looked at the wall with the information and I noticed one thing in common with all of them outside of the description. It was not the women, but the family composition. They always had the parents and a child between eight and ten. The man has black hair, grey eyes and is taller. In this killer’s mind, a family's make up is important to them.

“But that isn’t everything,”
she added, pausing to take another sip of her green tea. ”I have noticed a pattern in the killings too. It was always night time and it happens on a biweekly occurrence. Outside of an extended gap that occurred about a month ago, it always was two weeks. Guess when was the last murder?"

Racheli remained silent. She knew exactly when the last murder was, but saying it would’ve given her away. Her eyes glanced over to Jai, expecting him to answer the question instead.

Jai furrowed his brow in thought, a hand on his chin. What they don't see is the method in which he was cycling through the last several months of information he had already seen on the news and other police reports on top of the ones Leila provided for him. After a moment longer, he finally responded, "A few weeks ago, at best, according to your victim profile."

”That’s right,” she replied. Kayla looked at both Jai and Racheli to wait for her response. While not making it obvious about her knowing that her female friend isn’t who she was, the archer made a mental note about the lack of response. I guess you’re trying not to reveal that you aren’t who you are, she thought, imitating the idea of saying those words to ‘Rach’. Instead, she turned her head towards Jai as he answered the question.

His gaze flicked briefly in Rach's direction before returning to Kayla. "Am I correct in assuming that you think he will be presently striking at any given time? Perhaps, even tonight?"

”Your assumptions are correct, though I’m not 100% sure if the killer is a guy,” she answered. Her hands wrapped around the cup that held the rest of her green tea to keep them warm. ”However, judging from the other murders, I would assume it would be at night. It would fit in with the MO of the killer, especially if the husband was out at work during the time. And tonight would be a good time to be out there and put a stop to this. While I am still not fully recovered from everything that happened yesterday, I’m good enough to nail this guy.”

With his hand still holding his chin in thought, he appeared to be looking at the table, only his thoughts were elsewhere altogether. "Apologies—I didn't mean to sound presumptuous. But, yes, I agree that tonight is as good as any to go after them." Jai shook his head.

"If all else, you'll have me to assist you."

She picks up her mug as she drank half of the tea that was inside. Now comes the difficult part. She knew that she had to get the message to Jai about a possible identity of the killer, but make it subtle enough that the killer missed it.

”The only thing that didn’t seem right with all of this is the child seeing the father murdering the mother. If the killer had killed the mother in that instance, then why was the father seen?” The archer’s eyes turned to Racheli. ”Then a thought came to me: remember the ‘werewolf’ we came across at the Hounds’ base?” She paused for a moment, her eyes expressing unease as she remembered fighting it. She shook her head slightly as she closed her eyes to wipe away the images. Then, once they were gone, she focused on the pair of them again.

”Well, if there was something like that existing—and us living in a world where superpowers exist—a thought and a question came into my mind. What if our killer was capable of shapeshifting into someone or something else entirely?”

Rach was silent for a few moments, then she spoke. Her words borderline on laughing as she took another second to regain control.

"If I didn't know better, I would've thought you were crazy. It sounds crazy though. Way crazier than accepting a few people snapped from stress." The words sounded forced as she leaned back farther into her chair.

Jai let the words sink in, his gaze remaining on Rach.

"So... what's the plan then?" She asked, eager to listen into the woman's idea of how to catch this killer.

Then he looked away, regarding Kayla with the subtle lift of his brow. Ah, so my hunch was correct, Jai thought.

"It certainly sounds as though you're prepared if you've found and concluded as much," the soldier said with the crossing of his arms. "Is there anything you need of me? I trust you to let me handle the dirty work if push came to shove, given your condition."

He hoped she got the hint, much as how she did the same for him.

Fortunately for Jai, Kayla had been observant enough to notice the slight shift in his brow. At least I can talk to him after all this, she thought. This was through ‘Rach’s exasperated comments about the idea. However, the archer remained silent through them, barring one comment. ”Believe me, if we weren’t in a world of metahumans, I would have thought that it was crazy too.”

Racheli missed the exchange, but the tension had become obvious. She could taste it and she suspected both individuals were stepping on glass around her. Instead of making a scene, she merely pretended to notice nothing.

Draining the rest of her tea, Kayla got straight back to the point. ”I think the plan is simple enough. We meet at the garage and fan out to find the guy, whether it is by following women that are similar in appearance or listening to the disturbances in the area. I say we meet at the garage at 8:30 pm. Sound good?”

“Do you have a list of suspected victims? It’s sort of pointless if we don’t know who is going to be a possible target in the area and I doubt we all could do the detective work in a short time.” Rach pointed out.

Kayla’s eyes turned to ‘Rach’. ”Fortunately, I have found a few people to start from. That list I will bring with me tonight and we choose a few people from the list and we’ll go from there.”

Following suit, Jai drained the sub-par espresso and nodded. "I guess we'll further discuss this tonight." After setting the small cup back down on the little saucer, he lifted his brow again in a mild frown. "Is that all or were you serious in trying to drag me for a shopping trip?"

“You wouldn’t survive one. Nor would I.” Rach replied with sarcasm.

"That makes it sound like Kayla's shopping excursions are something else," Jai said. He waited a moment, watching Kayla.

Kayla looked at Jai, a smirk forming on her lips. ”I think there’s no way I’m letting you off the hook of a shopping trip.” While her mischievous expression was saying one thing, her eyes were subtly hinting that she needed to talk to him. And if he put two and two together, he would have an idea on what the topic is.

Oh, he did. He was dramatizing a point to a person who wasn't Rach to think otherwise.

Racheli took a sip of the coffee as she stood up, “I don’t see anything else we need to do. I might be late as I got something to do before this. So just leave me a copy and I’ll catch up with you guys when I can. Is that all right?”

Rach didn’t appear to be asking permission as much as stating a fact.

Kayla turned to look at ‘Rach’. ”I don’t see any problem with that. I guess we’ll see each other tonight.” She got up from her chair as she gets ready to leave.

Glancing between both "Rach" and Kayla, he sighed, seemingly displeased with the plans that Kayla had made for them. "Yes, Rach is leaving me so I can suffer shopping alone," Jai said as he rose to standing. "Excuse me for a moment and see you tonight then." He turned to each person respectively before he moved off to hand off the little espresso cup back to the barista.

“Stop being a baby. Big tip: just smile and nod while you hold the bags. It makes things easier,” Rach smiled in a cheeky fashion, tossing the coffee away on her way out. She didn’t seem to want to waste more time here than was needed. It was hard to tell if it was because she feared that Kayla might drag her into the shopping trip or she had something more pressing to deal with.

Kayla saw the opportunity to talk as soon as ‘Rach’ left the cafe. Following Jai’s suit, she brought her empty cup to the barista and thanked him for the service. She led the soldier away from the cafe in the direction of the shops. Might as well make the shopping trip believable, she thought. She didn’t know if their mutual ‘friend’ was following them in case something else was on the cards. Once she was sure that they weren’t followed and were out of earshot of any dark place, the archer turned to Jai.

”Ok, this is the real plan…”
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&



Location:An unknown building, somewhere in Crown Ridge, Maine
Time: 8:05pm

A day after the call was made to ‘get his shit together’ from Dullahan, Anhur had returned to the place of operations in Crown Ridge. Fortunately for him, Dullahan, Sobek and Montu had left the area for some dealings elsewhere in the New England area. From what he heard, they went to check on some of the operations occurring in Boston. Besides Sekhmet, who was ordered to help him to find Kayla, the skull-faced man was in charge of what was happening in Lost Haven and Crown Ridge. Bringing Dirk and a few of the Penose with him, he sat in the office that his boss normally resided and worked on his operations.

“Have the shipments of our anti-hero upgrades been delivered to all warehouses in Lost Haven and Crown Ridge,” he asked, concentrating on the conversation that was to some quartermaster in the main dockland warehouse their shipments were coming in. His face contorted into a frown as the man on the other end of the line spoke. “And why haven’t all the deliveries been sent out?” More voices on the end of the line. “I don’t care what delays and damages had occurred during shipment, the techs at each facility know the ins and outs of them. They should be the ones to deal with the damages. Now if those shipments don’t get delivered by tomorrow evening, I will personally be in your grill. And you will not like the end result.”

Hanging up immediately after sending his message, the Dutchman Dirk walked into the office. Anhur looked at him, his expression giving a clear ‘and what do you want?’ message to him.

“Goedenavond, meneer. Someone has arrived at our facilities about 15 minutes ago. They say they are here for a scheduled meeting at 8pm.”

A sigh escaped the skull-faced man’s lips. Yet another thing that Dullahan has arranged that I didn’t know about, he thought. He reached over to a bottle of tequila that he brought with him and poured it into a tumbler. Once done, he takes a sip of it. His golden eyes look at the Dutchman.

“Alright… Send them in…” he responded, motioning with the hand holding the tumbler to the door to let in the person for the meeting.

Alison Sparks had followed the GPS coordinates that Midas had sent to her phone, which brought her to a nondescript building in an area of Crown Ridge which she would rather not visit. Though, to be fair, she hated spending any time in Lost Haven’s “Ugly Little Sister,” as some had been known to call the troubled city. This particular section of Crown Ridge was renowned for its troubled history with street violence. So much so that the vastly inept and corrupt Crown Ridge police force had mostly given up on trying to reign it in.

Upon pulling up to the building where this meeting should take place, she was immediately met by two men who were both clearly armed. One of the men, who she had met once before during a similar meet up which MIdas had set up, greeted her with a smile. Though she didn’t know his name, she remembered him simply as “The Dutchman.”

“Ah! Hallo Mevrouw.” He said as he leaned in her window. “Uh, hoe kan ik u helpen?” He asked. “How can I help you?” He repeated in English, almost as if it just dawned on him that he was in Crown Ridge, and most people weren’t familiar with his native tongue.

“Ik heb een vergadering 8 urr met Dullahan.” She explained that she had an 8:00 o’clock meeting with his boss. She saw his eyes flash with delight as she spoke to him in Dutch.

“I spent a couple of summers in The Netherlands.” She said with a smirk while stepping out of the car.

“Ah...Deze kant op.” He said, motioning for her to follow him inside.

The Dutchman led her through the dark hallways of the building until they came to a doorway which looked to lead into an office of some sort. He put his hands up, indicating that she should there while he went in to announce her arrival. Moments later, The Dutchman returned and beckoned her to enter the office.

Moments before his guest entered the office for the meeting, Anhur’s phone buzzed. With nothing else to do moments before his guest entered, the skull-faced man flicked the phone open to see what was causing it. A message from Sobek? he thought, seeing a familiar name on the flip phone. Opening the message, there were only 6 words in the text:

Expect a man at the meeting.

Almost immediately upon entering, Ms Sparks felt strange. It was as if her knees were slightly weak, and she had the urge to sit down. However, the feeling was a passing one, and as she approached the man in the chair, she felt like herself. When she saw the skull-faced man before her, a slight frown crossed her face.

“You’re not Dullahan.” She said as she regarded the man.

Looking up from the phone, the skull-faced man looked at the woman who entered the room.
With the unnatural timing of the text message, he can safely assume that the person who was to be at the meeting ended up sending one of his lackeys. And Anhur had to admit, a fucking hot one too. His eyes were fixed on the woman as she expressed her disappointment that Dullahan was not there. In his mind, he was recalling a few bits of information about a woman such as herself travelling Lost Haven to do various businesses. It didn’t take him long to realize who he was supposed to meet and who he was meeting right now.

“How very observant of you,” Anhur started, stretching his arms out in a ‘Christ the Redeemer’ pose in the chair. His tumbler of tequila remained in his left hand as he welcomed his quest.

“Yes, our mutual friend, my boss, has surprisingly gone off on an urgent matter to another state. However,” he paused, lowering his arms as he leaned towards the desk. “He has told me to hold the fort here while he was on those matters. I am the one in charge of the dealings that happen in Lost Haven and Crown Ridge, but you may call me Anhur.”

“But more to the point, seems that we are being representatives to our bosses. Myself with Dullahan not being in the state…” He pauses as he smirked, taking a sip of tequila as his menacing golden eyes bore into the woman. “... And you being the dog of Richard Midas.”

“But first… to business. Take a seat and let’s talk about what you came here for…” The skull-faced man offers with his free hand a chair as he leaned back and rested both of his feet onto the right corner of the desk closest to him.

“Right.” Ms Sparks said as she took a seat across from this skull faced man. “I wasn’t aware that I wouldn’t be talking to the man himself.” She looked down at the desk between herself and the crime boss’ lieutenant, before looking up at the man with a slight smirk etched on her face.

“Which means that we can speak a bit more freely.” She said as she reached for her bag which sat at her feet. She placed it on the desk and produced a manilla folder and placed it on the desk, before returning the bag to its place.

Anhur watched with predatory eyes at the woman, who he figured as Ms Allison Sparks, as she took a seat. He was giving clear indications that he was looking over her as she moved and sat down in the chair on the other side of the desk. His golden eyes flickered towards hers as she spoke. He smiles as she suggests being able to speak more freely between the pair of them.

“That is something we can both agree on,” he replied, watching as she reached into her bag. Likewise, he reached into the desk and pulled out another tumbler. “I sure hope you enjoy tequila, Ms Sparks.” He grabbed the unlabelled bottle of tequila and poured it out into the new tumbler. Once finished, the skull-faced man recapped the bottle and slid the tumbler towards her. “This particular batch came all the way from my native Mexico.”

“I think your boss will find that satisfactory, but by all means, look it over to make sure that we aren’t forgetting anything.”

Anhur’s eyes moved slowly from Ms Spark’s to the manila folder, gathering another glimpse of her frame before returning to business. He takes a sip of his tequila before reaching for the folder. Setting his tumbler down, he opens the folder and begins reading the contents. As he reads, one could swear that when looking at his eyes that the gold in his eyes began to swirl in opposite directions to each other at different speeds. An illusion? It was something that only he and the higher up members of The Eye knew. In one section of the folder, he pauses as if he was rereading a section. A scowl of annoyance formed on his face as he takes his eyes off of the report and looked back at her. A nearby Dirk visibly shuffles with unease to the point of him leaving the room, closing the door silently.

“From what I understand from this,” Anhur started, his tone eerily calm as he spoke. “One of the special items that were to be transferred to us is to be delayed after an attack on the truck?”

“Unfortunately, that is correct.” Ms Sparks said as she took the tumbler of tequila and sucked down the contents in a single gulp. “There was an attack on the transport, which ‘fortunately’ was thwarted by the flying boy scout. But rest assured, there is a Daybreak prototype earmarked for delivery once the heat has passed. Dullahan can expect delivery, as promised, by the end of the week.”

“I see…”

Anhur removes his feet from the top of the desk as he gets up from the chair. He slowly begins to walk around the desk, picking up the bottle of tequila as he walks. While he had his tumbler in his hand, he downs the rest of his tequila in a similar fashion to Ms Sparks. If there’s one thing that gets to him, it was a woman who knows how to handle her drink. He comes to a stop seemingly close to the woman, beginning to lean onto the desk with his hip. His eyes focused on her as he poured himself another glass.

“I suppose that the next time a delivery is made,” He started, finishing pouring his glass. With his eyes unmoved from her, he begins pouring more tequila into her tumbler. “I could lend a few of our… personal defences to help guard the truck from any unexpected guests. Does that sound like a nice exchange?”

Ms Sparks took the newly refilled tumbler and drank the contents again in a single shot, then placed the empty tumbler back down on the table beside Anhur.

“I suppose that would be agreeable. Though, perhaps unnecessary. I assure you that Midas International’s security forces are more than capable of fending off any attacks. The only thing that that big blue pain in the ass did was keep us from killing the idiots who tried to steal Daybreak. But I’m sure your men would be more than a welcome addition for the next transport.” She finished as she looked from the skull-faced man to the bottle that he still clutched in his hand.

“That too is understandable. Just thought about keeping the security tight for Daybreak, especially as it would be a tragedy if something were to happen to it.”

As he looked to possibly pour himself yet another thing of tequila into his tumbler, the skull-faced man noticed her gaze turned from his to the bottle of tequila. Then, a thought came to his mind. As if anticipating what she was about to ask, he slowly moved the hand with the bottle closer to her.

“You see… That is what I like in a woman,” Anhur said, chuckling as he stopped his hand. “I will admit that any woman that can hold her drink is someone worth paying attention to.” Then, an idea came to his mind. “How about this…”

Getting back up from the chair, he walked back to the right side of the desk and opened the cabinet that was underneath. Reaching with one hand, he grabs another two bottles of the unmarked tequila and sets it down on the desktop.

“I have a funny feeling that with the deal that our two organizations are making, I think there are some certain things that Dullahan wants to speak to Midas about in regards to our goals. And as this meeting has no particular end time that I am aware of, I say we share a couple bottles of tequila and talk further business. Who knows, maybe we could have a little fun. Like you said, I’m sure we can speak more freely with our bosses not being around.”

Ms Sparks sat back in her chair, then looked down at the floor as a smirk crossed her face as she looked back up to the skull faced man.

Predictable. Sparks thought to herself as she locked onto his golden eyes.She was used to men assuming that she was an easy mark simply because she was easy on the eyes. However, she also learned a long time ago how to use those assumptions to her advantage.

“I think…” She started, “I think that sounds like a fantastic idea.” She said with a smile as she indicated for him to pour her another drink.
Hidden 5 yrs ago 5 yrs ago Post by Torack
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Torack The Golden Apple

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Portland, Maine

While on the road, he came to a stoplight and leaned back on his chair, his fingers drumming on the steering wheel, idly looking at the cars ahead of him and the various shops on either side of the road when he felt his wife’s gaze on him.

“Why the sudden need to go to the bookshop?” She asked.

“I need to put more protection spells around the house,” he responded just as the traffic lights turned green.

“I thought you already put protection spells around the house.”

“I did. Just not the right kind, you know.” What he wasn’t telling her was that the spells he needed had to be strong; ritualistic type of spells that could not only negate a few powerful spells, but alert him if someone he didn’t want waltzed into his home. And for a spell like that, he needed several grimoires of protection spells so he could weave the rituals together, make his own unique blend to alert him wherever he was.

“And I’m guessing you don’t know the right kind, eh?”

“The blessings of books,” he said wryly as they pulled into the parking lot of the small store. It was between a small business donut shop and a dollar store; the sign above the door in a strange, overly dramatic gothic font.

Taking the keys out of the ignition, they both walked into the store with a bell chiming above them. The interior was dimly lit with rows of bookshelves lining the centre isle. Behind the front desk Damian saw a young woman lazily reading a book, barely even registering they were in there.

Sharing a look with his wife, Damian and Jessica walked forward between the shelves and began browsing. He showed her a card from his pocket, “look for something with this symbol or that word on the spine,” he said and watched her walk off to another isle to search as he began his own. Several long minutes passed as he went from isle to isle, pulling out various grimoires and spell books and thumbing through them.

Most of what he’d found were basic protection spells, or personal charms one would use to protect themselves or an item. And although the books were basic, as this wasn’t any sort of place to find hardcore rituals, some gems were present, which was why he’d went there. Deceptively powerful and simple spells with unique ways of doing their rituals which he could pull from to make his own.

“I’ve found something,” his wife called out several minutes later.

Putting back the book he was holding, he walked over to the isle she was in and took the book she was holding out for him and began skimming the pages. There were various powerful spells in this book, but none that he needed currently; but more interestingly were the various artifacts listed in there as well. Some from ancient Egypt and some that were alien altogether.

Intrigued by the book, he kept turning the pages, quickly skimming through the number of artifacts until he came upon a page depicting the Scythe of Athocreta, a large scythe with a black blade lined and trimmed in gold. He began reading through its description when his vision suddenly started to blur and shift.

He was no longer in the library. From the strangely coloured sky and the design of the city around him, he doubted he was even on Earth anymore. Looking around, Damian saw a figure in black and red robes some distance away with gray skin streaked in red using the scythe’s power to kill hundreds of individuals at once, the power of their souls being drawn into the scythe as though it were sucking them in. Screams rose around him, and moments later they vanished, cut off. He watched the figure fly up and Damian followed him, watching as he went through various alien cities, more screams rising into the air as hundreds vanished at a time.

As suddenly as he was pulled into the vision he was out, back in the bookshop, a deep chill going through his body as his face paled.

“Woah, honey, you okay?” He heard his wife’s voice ask, as though it were behind a glass.

He felt the the power of either the scythe or the figure he’d seen in his vision, a distant pulsating force getting stronger with each passing moment. The magical energy it was giving off blasting into his head, threatening to crack his skull, driving him to his knee.

Then the pressure eased, not disappearing completely, but remaining as a distant thrum. His hearing came back in full and he looked up at his wife, using one of the shelves to help him stand. “I need to go,” he said.
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Previously on CAH: roleplayerguild.com/posts/4866049 and roleplayerguild.com/posts/4915084

Dennis scooped up the unconscious Quote King with a construct and passed him off to a police van down the street. He turned to the blue and silver clad hero before the pair looked down the street at Meme-or. It once again shifted forms, anger and energy palpable with no verbal way of expressing it. The yellow animated cardigan changed colour by shades into a baggy green t-shirt. It's final form shimmering, glowing with power.



As the Aquilifer turned over one of the assailants to the custody of a waiting police van, he noticed that the other strange villain had again changed forms. No longer was he the giant mouse, he was something far more insidious...

The strange being had somehow transformed into the much beloved figure of Shaggy, the dim witted and ever famished hippy famous for his role as the sidekick to Scooby Doo. Yet, there was something off about him. He seemed confident, almost to the point of being cocky, and he was engulfed by a blue flame.

At a loss for words, Icon returned his gaze to the Aquilifer.

"Friend of yours?" He asked, still trying to process the sheer absurdity of what he saw before him.

"No. This is new. But he's not exactly unfamiliar. I think we should tread pretty carefully." The newest Aquilifer said, clearly unsure of himself and this latest threat. He began circling around the animated figure, choosing to flank him with the powerhouse superhero rather than attempt a front on assault.

"Right." Icon said as he moved in on the supercharged stoner. "I've got to admit, this is strange, even for Lost Haven." Without another word, Icon lifted several feet off the ground and flew toward the animated foe. He circled around Shaggy, looking for something that would tell him anything about the enemy he was up against.

Icon knew that this guy needed to be stopped, however, he didn't know how much force to apply in this case. If he underestimated this character based solely on his ridiculous appearance, he could be taken off guard and beaten. However, if he went at him too hard, he'd be likely to kill him. He decided that an indirect attack might be the best way to end this quickly without hurting anyone too badly. So Icon ascended skyward, then quickly changed direction and rushed downward toward his enemy. He would slam his fist into the ground in front of his foe and buckle the street before him, hopefully taking "Shaggy" out in the process.

However, as Icon braced for impact with the ground, the walking cartoon swatted him away with a backhanded slap. The impact drove Icon skyward, where he careened through the 33rd Floor and then upwards and out of the 36th floor of the Chambers Building several blocks away. Had he not regained control, his momentum would have carried him several more blocks before he would have crash landed somewhere in the city. Instead, he hovered over the city looking back toward the area where he and the new Aquilifer had engaged the deranged cartoon character.

"I just got bitch slapped by Shaggy." Icon said to himself, shocked by the raw power of his opponent. "I might not have to hold back after all." Icon hovered there for another moment before a slight smirk crossed his face, and then he rocketed back into the fray.

The Aquilifer turned and watched Icon sail away, crashing through the top of the city's landmark skyscraper and out of sight, before looking back at his foe.

"Like, he made me use 12% of my power, man." The animated figure uttered, glaring at the Golden Rod wielding hero.

"Zoinks..." Dennis uttered, backing up.

"You know, that's like, my line, man." Shaggy powered up and punched the concrete, which sent rippling bitumen tearing through towards the Aquilifer.

"I should've gone with 'Jinkies'..." He said, taking to the sky out of self-preservation. "I don't suppose there's any buying you off with a Scooby Snack..?"

Shaggy pulled a broken chunk of cement from the ground and hurled it at the hovering hero.

"Yeah... didn't think so." He replied, ducking away.

"Gramps, I think we have a problem here." He fired a few blasts from the Golden Rod whilst talking into his radio comm-link.

"What's the situation, over?" The old man's voice replied.

"Did you ever see that old cartoon, Scooby Doo? Err-- Over?" A fire hydrant soared over his shoulder, as he managed to just slip out of the way.

"Yes, what's the issue? Over."

"Well, I seem to be fighting a guy who's taken on that meme form of the character Shaggy..." I light pole swung past his head, which he barely ducked in time.

"Shaggy? His scared, scrawny beatnik friend? How's he causing you any problems? Over."

"Yeah, I don't think you get the idea of what a meme is... Also, he just smacked Icon over the horizon, so... Maybe he's sick of old men calling him a scared, scrawny beatnik? Anyway, I'm asking for a reason... umm over." More chunks of cement whistled past, as he quickly brought up a shield construct to deflect most of the chunks, many of which embedded themselves so deeply in his construct they came to a stop inches short of his face.

"Roger. Go ahead. Over."

"Well, you've fought a lot of people over the last... I dunno... Eighty years..." Dennis was starting to get short of breath.

"Ninety. But go on. Over."

"Fair enough. Ninety years. In that time... you've probably fought a fair share who considerably overpowered you. So I guess my question is this... Have you got any specific tips for 'Not dying'. Because, I've got to be honest. I'd really rather not have... 'bitch-slapped by Scooby Doo's hungry friend' on my headstone." He was driven back against a building by a thrown car, which pushed the Aquilifer and his construct shield right against the wall.

"You're supposed to say, 'Over'."

Dennis looked up at the figure who glowered and glowed over him with power.

"Yeah... I don't think I'm going to get to be the one who says this is over... As Shaggy wound up with a radiating fist.

As Icon raced back toward the animated figure who had previously knocked him halfway across the city, he saw that this "Shaggy" was now looming over The Aquilifer with a fist cocked and ready to unload on the new hero. However, before the strange attacker could land his blow, Icon put himself between the cartoon villain and the other hero. Icon found himself in a rare position. For most of his life, Icon had to hold back. No matter what he was doing, who he was fighting, if he allowed himself to cut loose, someone would be killed. It was something that weighed heavily on his mind every time that he engaged a threat.

However, this "being" was unimaginably powerful, and as hard as it was for him to believe, Icon knew that against this enemy, he didn't have to hold back.

So he unleashed on the animated figure, hitting him with a volley of earth shattering punches, each of which seemed as if it could have caved in a mountainside. However, much to Icon's surprise, the attack failed to put the figure down. As he landed each punch, "Shaggy" seemed mostly unaffected, at most the volley knocked him back a step or two. Undeterred by Icon's assault, "Shaggy" swung wildly with a roundhouse right, however, Icon ducked and the punch sailed harmlessly over his head as he followed up with an uppercut that finally knocked the cartoon hippy off of his feet.

Dennis followed Icon’s lead and pushed the advantage keeping the animated figure off his feet by flinging him higher into the air with the Golden Rod. The pair gave pursuit, with Icon throwing heavy combinations designed to knock him higher and higher, and the Aquilifer pushing him onward with the occasional blast whenever a brief window of opportunity presented itself.

With the Aquilifer on his tail, Icon forced the animated hippy higher and higher into the air, hammering the powerful figure with blow after blow, knocking higher with each successive impact. Finally, having enough, Icon grabbed the figure around the waist and accelerated upward with "Shaggy" locked in his grip. The strange being struggled to free himself, however, the higher they went, the weaker the figure seemed to grow. Realizing that this was no time to let up, Icon pushed harder, accelerating the ascent towards the upper reaches of the atmosphere.

Soon, the animated foe stopped struggling altogether, and just lay there, slumped against Icon's shoulder. When Icon looked to his foe, he saw that the motionless being no longer resembled the beloved, mystery solving stoner, but instead looked to be a creature made entirely of television static. The strange being had no face, nor discernible features to speak of. It was truly bizarre, and one of the strangest things that the hero had ever seen. Once he was sure that the strange being was no longer a threat, Icon began the long descent back down to the earth.

As he approached the ground with the incapacitated foe, Icon saw the Aquilifer, as well as a number of black armored vehicles arriving on the scene. It was a vaguely familiar sight, but one that he hadn't seen since before the Hounds of Humanity had taken out the head of S.T.R.I.K.E. Could it be possible that the shadowy government agency had been reorganized and is now again operating?

Despite his uncertainty about what was unfolding below him, Icon continued on the downward trek, touching down next to the Aquilifer. The pair stood together as they were surrounded by the black SUV's. Icon looked to the Aquilifer questioningly, and saw that the other hero knew about as much about the new arrivals as Icon did. However, before Icon said a word, there was movement from the car closest to them as the passenger door opened and someone stepped out. The man who had emerged from the vehicle stood about six feet tall with graying hair and a clearly fake mustache, and he projected an air of as he strode toward the pair of heroes.

"Icon." He said, nodding as he approached them. "The new Aquilifer, I presume." He continued as he looked straight past them and at the prone body of the unconscious trouble maker. "Good work gentlemen, but we'll take it from here."

The Aquilifer couldn’t help but stare at the man’s fake mustache. He squinted. It was so clearly fake, he almost couldn’t believe that it was a fake at all. What could possibly be the purpose of such a transparent disguise. The man just returned eye contact and smiled back. He took another step closer and turned his head slightly, still staring at the hairy lip. The man responded by tilting his head in the same fashion. Icon broke up the awkward silence.

"I wasn't aware that S.T.R.I.K.E. was up and running again. Welcome back." Icon said.

"Oh, we're not S.T.R.I.K.E. son. They died with Anderson." The man said, never taking his eyes off of the strange being made of static.

"Then who...who are you?" Icon said, unable to mask his confusion, which prompted a smile from the man before him.

"Oh, don't go worrying about that. But if you really want to know, let's just say that we're from the Department of Fish and Game." The man said, seemingly taking a bit of amusement at the heroes' confusion. "Alright boys, bag and tag him, we've got places to be." He called out to the other agents who had descended on the scene as he walked back to his vehicle with a certain bounce to his step.

“No part of today has made any sense at all. So I guess why should this be any different?” The Aquilifer said to Icon.

"You're not kidding." Icon said as he watched the man who seemed to be in charge of "Fish and Game" return to his vehicle as his men rounded up the strange being who had, just moments ago taken the form of Shaggy from the Scooby-Doo cartoons. "Just another day in Lost Haven." He remarked. Icon then lifted off of the ground. Before taking off toward the skies, he stopped, and turned to regard the other hero.

"You handled yourself well today." Icon told him. "Listen, we're putting something together. A team. We could use someone like you, if you're interested."

“Take it!” Dennis heard in his ear, he could hear a clatter in the background through his earpiece, as if his grandfather had got up too fast and knocked things over in the process. “You’ll need help going forward. Support which I might not stay in good enough shape to provide! Take him up on his offer!” The old man came through, excitedly.

“You didn’t say ‘Over.'" Dennis lightly teased, trying to whisper to his grandfather, but he could tell from the change in Icon’s expression that he’d overheard him. No surprise, he could hear a single voice calling for help across the state. Hell, maybe across several states.

“Quit screwing around!”

“Sorry, I meant to say ‘That sounds great.’” The newest Aquilifer said.

“The way things have been going lately, getting organized makes perfect sense to me. All for one and one for all and all of that.”

He held out his hand and Icon took it. With his other hand held aloft and a slight amount of focus, Dennis made the Golden Rod glow as if to accentuate the momentous agreement.

He smiled. “Sorry. I’m showing off. Stayed up three nights trying to learn how to make the thing glow like that… Seemed like the moment called for some panache.”

"Right." Icon said as he looked at the glowing rod. "Welcome to the team. We'll be in touch." Icon said before rocketing away into the sky, and out of view.
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Hidden 5 yrs ago Post by Fallenreaper
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Fallenreaper ღ~Lil' Emotional Cocktail~ღ

Member Seen 7 hrs ago

Hide and Seek: Part 3


&

L O C A T I O N: Somewhere in New York City
T I M E: Present Day ( July ) Sometime around 3 PM


*italics denotes dialogue spoken in either Chinese or Korean


Lunch finished up rather quickly as Benjamin set his plate into the sink. It made a soft clink while his hand reached into his pocket for his phone. He opened it with a simple flick of his thumb and scrolled through the various messages on it. His lips curled into a frown when he spotted numbers he didn't recognize.

Ji-Yeong. Duff. His mind tried to place the names, each held a familiar ring to it. Images flashed through his mind causing his head to hurt again.

Benjamin placed down his phone for a moment. His hands moved to his face and he gently rubbed it, trying to overcome the pain.

Emma bit her lip as she stared at him. When she finished placing the clean dishes into the rack, she turned to Benjamin.

"Is something wrong?"

"No. It's some eye strain. Give me a few moments and I'll have it cleared up."

He rubbed his eyes a bit more until the pain faded. Once more, Benjamin grabbed his phone and looked at his unread messages. His lips curled into a smile when he spotted Athena's name light up. A single red dot to indicate a recent, unread message.

His thumb pressed it and began to read it.

[sms; 7:39 AM] to: Best Boy, Ben
Hey, Benjamin! Guess where I am?
[sms; 7:39 AM] to: Best Boy, Ben
[attached file]


Benjamin's eyebrow raised as he clicked the attached file. A picture of a well-known place in NYC immediately popped up. His smirk widened as he replied, eager to meet up again.

[sms; 1:30 PM] to: Cheeky Popstar, Lyra
Just opened msg, when r u coming over? Won't take no 4 an answer.


By the time the knock on her bedroom door comes around just shy of one in the afternoon, Athena was already brushing her teeth. After washing her face and doing the rest of her rigorous skincare routine, she was all prepped and ready to go. Eating a light lunch, something to last her through the day, was when her phone vibrated.

Picking up her phone while she sipped on her water, she typed back her response.

[sms; 1:39 PM] to: Best Boy, Ben
I can start heading over now! (: I'll take the subway but
I'll be awhile. Want me to grab anything for you?
[sms; 1:39 PM] to: Best Boy, Ben
Other than your souvenirs, of course! \(^o^)/


A bag slung over her shoulder, she looked fashionable with the same pair of jeans, a cami with a sheer pastel pink blouse, and matching pink chucks.

Pressing enter, the message was sent and her bodyguard gave her a cursory glance and nodded, following with her out as they left the apartment. He'd stay with her until she was in a safe enough area where he wouldn't need to worry about the public. To other people, they'd just seem like family going out for an outing.

He handed her an apartment key and gave her instructions should they separate. Athena nodded, gripping her phone as they pressed the button for the elevator to come to their floor.

Ben thought a moment. He texted back quickly with one of his favorite things, something they might both enjoy.

[sms; 1:39 PM] to: Cheeky Popstar, Lyra
Depends on where ur stopping at. Still like cc? Emma can whip some up before u arrive.

[sms; 1:40 PM] to: Best Boy, Ben
I was thinking some pastries, you know,
the fluffy kind from that one bakery down the way?
[sms; 1:40 PM] to: Best Boy, Ben
Actually, is it still there? )':
[sms; 1:40 PM] to: Best Boy, Ben
I do… but… ;;;; Okay, I could go for some. <3

[sms; 1:41 PM] to: Cheeky Popstar, Lyra
It’s closed. Levain Bakery has some similar baked goods & donates the rest 2 charity.

[sms; 1:42 PM] to: Best Boy, Ben
Oh! That sounds good! o((*^▽^*))o I'll go there!
[sms; 1:42 PM] to: Best Boy, Ben
Any special requests?

[sms; 1:43 PM] to: Cheeky Popstar, Lyra
A box of dark choco choco chips. They are really rich in favor. Also, rustic fruit tart.

[sms; 1:45 PM] to: Best Boy, Ben
Okay! ( •̀ᄇ• ́)ﻭ✧ I got it!

[sms; 2:28 PM] to: Best Boy, Ben
I have purchased the goods! I'm omw!

[sms; 2:29 PM] to: Cheeky Popstar, Lyra
Good, try not to eat the cookies. It's
hard to resist, I know. Let me know when
you're here, I'll be sure to be waiting
outside.


Athena pouted at the text as she began to walk to his house. Even after all these years, she hadn't forgotten the way down the winding roads that led to his neighborhood. She could do with the exercise.

[sms; 2:34 PM] to: Best Boy, Ben
Excuse you! (⁎˃ᆺ˂) I won't!
[sms; 2:34 PM] to: Cheeky Popstar, Lyra
Sure. ;)
[sms; 2:34 PM] to: Best Boy, Ben
(¬_¬)
[sms; 2:35 PM] to: Best Boy, Ben
I resent that. Not like you haven't stolen a bite or two yourself. |:
[sms; 2:35 PM] to: Cheeky Popstar, Lyra
I know, that’s why I mentioned it lol. They are hard to resist.

She didn't have the heart to respond, mockingly offended that he'd ever accused her of such an atrocity. What was more, he confessed to stealing bites. Idly, she recollected memories of a different time as she headed down the streets.

It took her another ten minutes after being dropped off to finally make it to the gate. With Ben as her phone company, she made it in what was quicker time. She peered around and through the gate. The scenery definitely hadn't changed much, but the gate module itself looked new.

Pulling out her phone again, she typed her arrival.

[sms; 2:34 PM] to: Best Boy, Ben
I'm here at the gate! It's not the same gate code, is it?


And waited.

[sms; 2:35 PM] to: Cheeky Popstar, Lyra
No, sorry. Daniel’s girlfriend got paranoid and had it changed a few times. I’m coming down.


Ben hung up his phone and shut off his TV, tossed away the game controller. He had been playing it while he waited for Athena. He made his way down the stairs now changed into a grey-tee shirt and torn jeans. The whole outfit showed off his fit shape as he walked past the study toward the grand entrance.

He popped open the door and stepped down into the steps leading to the pavement. The day was hotter than he expected as he shrugged off the heat. There was much shade between the gate and the door, making him glad he wouldn't burn from it. His hand reached out then pressed the number combination for the gate causing it to creak open.

"What's up? Let's get inside before the chocolate melts." Ben stated, his lips curled into a boyish smile. He gestured for her to follow him inside.

Her little baseball cap covered her face from the majority of the sun, a black face mask that covered her mouth and nose, leaving only her eyes to be seen. A large light blue and baggy shirt covered her arms, protecting what other skin she may have had from the scorching sun. She's still squinting around to look around the yard before footsteps made their approach.

She turned to face him and her eyes curved into the shape of half-moons. "Of course, let's go!" Athena pulled off the face mask, tucking it under her chin, and followed him beyond the gate. Closing the gate behind her, she walked beside him until they made their way inside.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you definitely got taller." Athena bumped her elbow against his arm with a giggle and a grin.

"Well, it happens. Can't stay shorter than you forever. " Ben teased back as he let her elbow him.

"Our housekeeper asked if you were staying for dinner by the way. I hope so. She's aiming on making something simple if Daniel and his dragon lady isn't back soon."

Tapping a finger to her chin in thought, she nodded. "That'd be lovely if you don't mind having me—it would give us plenty of time to catch up." Though, at the word dragon lady, she hid her laugh behind her hand.

When they reached the door, his hand reached out and opened it. His head jerked for Athena to head inside first. Some things never changed as he got older. Especially when it came to what his mother had taught him.

"Ladies first."

Athena giggled and walked inside, letting her eyes adjust from the brilliant and bright outside to the darker interior of the large home. It was cool, as though she was walking through a castle, and she remembered a smaller version of herself coming in here for the first time with a starlit gaze at how castle-like the house was and how she wished she could stay here for longer.

The smells were different, not something she remembered, however, and Athena wrinkled her nose. It hadn't changed very much, the "dragon lady's" presence ever present when Athena knew better. "I see she hasn't changed much in her taste of style," she remarked dryly, glancing over the decor as they walked along the familiar path to the kitchen for some napkins and drinks to go with their baked goods. ( And to say hello to Emma, of course. )

" Yeah, she's gotten worse. Took over the whole house, but I managed to save some of mom's things." Benjamin answered with a sour tone, following her.

Again, Athena resisted the urge to make a face.

"Hola, you two," Emma said as she pulled from the fridge, and smiled at Athena.

"You've gotten so big... Come here and let me see you! It's been so long." Her accent was heavy and thick, but her English was understandable and clear.

Athena lit up upon seeing the familiar housekeeper. Setting down the bag of treats and her messenger bag, she moved closer to Emma. Pulling off her baseball cap and the face mask, she leaned in to hug the housekeeper with a force reminiscent of her childhood when she tried to squeeze the nice lady. This time, it was out of genuine delight of seeing someone so familiar.

"Oh, it's so nice to see you, ajumma!" Athena murmured, squeezing her in a hug. She pulled away to show how much she's grown and was now much taller than the housekeeper. Slender, though difficult to tell through the baggy clothes that hid her frame, it was obvious in her strength.

"Your hugs haven't lost their warmth or strength, I see." Emma chuckled as she returned the same affection in her own hug.

"It's nice to see a familiar face after what... two years?"

Benjamin coughed, interrupting the reunion.

"She's staying for dinner."

Emma's eyes lit up causing her to glance back to Athena, happy to see Benjamin having a friend over.

"Any special requests?"

"I'm good for anything—wait, actually, may I have burgers?" The very idea had Athena sparkling in anticipation. She hadn't anything Americanized in awhile due to eating a much healthier lifestyle. Today was one of those "cheat" days.

She turned to Benjamin, almost wanting to share her enthusiasm. "Is that okay?"

Benjamin shrugged, though his smile still hadn't dropped. It was a subtle hint of approval as he spoke.

"We haven't had any burgers for a while, so sure. Could we have some of your spicy nacho cheese fries too, Emma?"

"Yes, I can arrange that." Emma replied.

"Awesome. Hey, Athena, let's leave Emma to work. If the dragon lady and Daniel shows up, give me a heads up. We’ll be in the game room."

Athena wondered if the family situation had gotten worse.

"Of course," Emma stated, though her expression hid her concern. She let her smile return and shooed them off from her kitchen.

The idol glanced between the two.

"Now you two go have fun. I'll take care of the treats and dinner."
Hidden 5 yrs ago Post by eravicis
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eravicis resident healer

Member Seen 4 yrs ago

Hide and Seek: Part 4


&

L O C A T I O N: Somewhere in New York City
T I M E: Present Day ( July ) Sometime around 4 PM

*italics in dialogue means it's spoken in either Chinese or Korean

Athena flashed a smile. "Of course! Thanks, ajumma." She leaned forward to press a kiss to the woman's cheek before grabbing her bag and following after Benjamin. As they left the kitchen and made their way through the mansion, Athena's smile waned when she noticed the decorations had drastically changed since she was last here.

"I hope she didn't touch your room," she mumbled. Athena puffed her cheek as she tried to ignore the childish protest in the lack of Ben's mom's things and was heartbroken when they passed the living room to find the grand piano gone.

Her hands gripped her bag tightly, trying to fight the grief and the lack of respect for her things no longer being where they used to sit. It's only been a few years since she was here, but for it to change so much.

"I can see why you call her 'dragon lady,'" Athena said after a moment, just before they headed in the direction of Benjamin's room.

"She tried to, but I crushed her attempt. I don't think Daniel wanted us to spill blood on the carpet." Benjamin growled at the thought as he led the way.

"I feel like a snake would be a better fit for her," Athena remarked, "just because a dragon seems too cool for her."

They walked through the foyer again then to the study and finally up the stairs. Benjamin walked into the middle of the loft before he turned his head over his shoulder.

"I've changed a few things since you last visited. Including adding a gym area. The storage is to the right if you want to put your bag in there for now."

He pointed at the set of doors across the room from the stairs.

Athena nodded and glanced in the pointed direction. She made to move to set her bag down; instead, she just held onto it until they decided where to settle down. Looking around, she opted to walk to the game room where she could see the large television and various gaming consoles set up beneath it.

"So, you want to play some games while we wait for Emma to bring the snacks up? The other option is telling me what you've been up. The last visit was about two years ago."

Tapping her chin in thought, she hummed. "Let's catch-up over foosball. Every time you or I score a point, we can ask each other a question."

Benjamin waved his hand for her to follow him past the storage closet and into the hallway. They passed two rooms before entering the game room. Benjamin slipped off his shoes then tossed them against the nearby wall. He moved past the couch and began to check the condition of the table, ensuring it worked adequately.

She set down her bag on the couch that faced the television. Following Benjamin, she removed her shoes and set them beside the sofa. And then, Athena headed over to the table while she loosened her shoulders. She grinned. "Prepared to get your butt whooped, Benjamin?"

"That's big talk for Ms. Shorty. I'm surprised you haven't tripped over those heels on the way up." Benjamin snickered.

She crossed her arms as she made her way over to the foosball table. "Aigoo, we're almost the same height!" Athena puffed out her cheek in a mock pout, her long black hair swaying behind her. "And besides, I bet your balance is terrible if you tried wearing them."

"Thankfully, guys don't need to wear heels to be tall. And I'm pretty sure I would break them rather than run in them. The brand you're wearing isn't known for being durable."

Athena shrugged. Leave it to Ben to know the brand and its known durability. "Then I'll walk barefoot if I have to. Or you know, break the heel off and use it as a lethal weapon." She couldn't help laughing.

Benjamin pulled a coin from a nearby coffee table.

“No one can say you’re not feisty at least. Flip for who goes first. Heads or tails?"

Eyeing him, she hummed again. "Heads."

Benjamin adjusted the coin then flipped it high in the air. The silver glistened as it twirled and came back to his hand, his palm out to catch it. He slapped it down on the back of his hand.

Heads.

"You're first." He tossed the coin to the side as he hunched over his side of the table.

Rolling up the sleeves of her shirt, she punted the ball into the center and kicked it close to Ben's side. After a few bounces back and forth, twirling of handles and the like, Ben still scored the first point.

Athena made a noise that was a mix of a groan and a squeak.

"You scored first… what's your first question?" she asked with a sigh as she moved to retrieve the ping pong ball.

"Don't feel bad, I've had plenty of time to practice," Benjamin said in a soft voice.

Even with his reassurance, Athena pouted. That just meant he was going to score a lot of points off of her. And that meant a lot of questions.

His face turned serious as he spoke again.

"So... Why now did you decide to visit? You can't tell me you haven't come this way a few times before. I mean, you're pretty popular after all."

"I was originally headed for Lost Haven," Athena replied, holding the ball in hand as she stood. "My manager said it was a better idea not to go somewhere that was already hot with the press and put me somewhere I could blend in with the crowd." She shrugged in resignation with a shake of her head. "Hiding in plain sight, so to speak."

Setting the ball in the center, she flashed a smile. "I think my manager remembered I grew up here, at one point, and wanted me to come back to relax. So, a perfect time for me to see you. And besides, didn't you miss me?"

"I did. I wish you had more free time. It's a good thing you didn't go to Lost Haven. It's..." Benjamin paused for a moment.

His lips curled into a frown as he seemed to have lost his train of thought. It took a few seconds, but he recovered and cast away the strange feeling.

"I can't recall, but it's not a good place. It seems to be a hot spot of some sort."

Athena tilted her head, puzzled. He seemed to have recovered, but, Something seemed missing, and his answer felt like he knew what he wanted to say before whatever thought he had disappeared. How strange. No wonder Morrigan sent her. Something settled uncomfortably in the pit of her stomach, but she clung to the conversation she had, once upon a time.

He pointed to the table. "Want to continue?"

She nodded and set the ball in the center. After a huge back and forth, Athena lost again by a close battle between the two to her far left. With a groan, she held her head with a sigh. "I should've picked Mario Kart. I forget how good you are at this."

Ben laughed when she mentioned she should've picked Mario Kart.

"I did warn you I've been practicing. So, what're your least favorite parts about being a popstar? I know you got some aside from the paparazzi."

Athena frowned. "Probably how intrusive they can get about my personal life, especially since I started on this movie." She sighed. "I wasn't known for any other roles before this movie, so everyone wants to know who I am and where I've come from. But, it's not like I've hidden the truth too much on those."

They know a myriad of random facts about her. It was peculiar to see a magazine with a profile of her inside it. And it was bewildering.

She picked up the ball again and posed as if she was about to drop the ball again. "And here, in the States, in Hollywood, they get… aggressive." She winced as if remembering something she didn't like. "Anyway, ready for the next round?"

"Everyone wants to know what it's like to be wealthy or famous. Few people realize what we give up because of it. Privacy. It's a sad truth of life." Benjamin resisted the urge to lament about the loss of such a precious thing.

Lifting her gaze to her friend, she nodded, remembering how little they were exposed to paparazzi differently than how she was exposed to it now.

He smirked, trying to change the topic to something more cheerful, "Though I admit, I'm lucky to know you as I do."

Athena couldn't help the curling of her lips, grateful for both his friendship and sincerity.

His attention turned back to her as he readied himself for another round. "Oh hell yeah. I'm ready to kick your butt again."

And then immediately pouted. "Aigoo! You're not going to win all the time! I'll score points, you watch!" She stomped her foot in frustration. Her eyes flashed; briefly, a luminescent blue-green just from the inner edges of her pupils twinkled.

And a shadow passed over Ben's head.

Ben's eyes jerked up just when he was about to defend his goal. For a moment, something sweet and spicy hit his nose. It twitched before his attention drifted back to Athena. For a moment, the confusion increased as he tried to understand what happened.

Distracted, she took the opportunity to swoop in and kicked the ball into his goal, scoring a point for herself. She made an incomprehensible noise of jubilation.

"Did you see that?"

"See what?" she asked, blinking up at him. "Did you see something?"

Benjamin frowned and thought about it. He bit his lip then shrugged it off.

"I thought I saw a shadow. Maybe I've been working out too hard."

Athena blinked at him as if she had no idea what he was talking about.

His eyes looked down and noticed the pong ball vanished. He clicked his tongue on his teeth, accepting his defeat.

"I guess you won, so ask your question."

And then she grinned. "I sure did!" Tapping a finger to her chin in thought, she hummed. Well, she wanted to find out what he was doing recently. Perhaps she ought to find out what he's been up to since they last talked.

"What were you doing for the last two-ish weeks since we talked? You and I both got so busy, we hardly called or sent texts that I got worried. You doing okay?" Her voice softened in that way that showed her concern.

Athena didn't want to believe he holed himself up here the whole time. But, with what Morrigan told her, he was in Las Vegas and unfortunately, that's not information he told her himself. Instead, her genuine concern that he had to face the snake woman by himself for three weeks of summer vacation seemed highly unlikely, but still possible.

Benjamin had leaned over and began to collect the ball when he paused again. His mind tried to think to yesterday, but nothing surfaced in his recollection — not even the boring stuff.

His figure stood upright as he pushed against the table's edge, trying to recall details. He crossed his arms while the throbbing increased.

"I-I..."

"Ben?" Athena called out softly, frowning.

The blood rushed to Benjamin's head, the thumping drowned out his hearing. His mind ignored the pain in its search for answers. Images of a wolf biting him flashed through his mind, a woman in a coffin, and followed by numerous other unfamiliar faces.

His eyes began to yellow before the sounds of bones cracking filled the room.

The change in his eyes didn't stop Athena from squeaking in surprise at how she provoked his change.

Footsteps were coming up the steps, Emma's familiar humming echoing up the halls. The sounds didn't sound right together—his bones cracking as fast as she could move to slam the door shut, Emma's humming, and her feet padding on the hardwood floor. She skidded, slipped with practiced ease to kick the door shut, and muting the sound so Emma wouldn't hear it slam closed. It was as though she choreographed it and pressed her feet against it in time to stop Emma from seeing the transformation.

"Oh, Ben…" she breathed as she looked upside down toward him.

There were sounds from the other side of the door amid the cracking of bones and then the knock. If Athena weren't so close to the door, she would've missed the knocking. The knock came louder.

Athena made her voice sound like she was yelling from the couch, "One second! Just leave it by the door!"

On the other side of the door, Emma frowned. Her hands were holding the tray filled with the various treats, including the rustic tart and numerous cookies. And of course, macarons.

“Are you sure? Are you two all right? What’s that cracking sound?”

"Yeah! We're—" Athena didn't like lying on a bad day, and even on a good day, she still didn't like lying. But lying in this case… well… She winced, swallowing her moral compass for Ben as she continued, "—we're watching a movie! So everything's dark! Give us a sec!" She tried to make sounds that sounded as though they were moving around in the dark, looking for the remote amid the cracking bones.

Ben's heart kept pounding and rushing blood through his veins. His figure fell onto the floor. Small shreds of skin began to peel from his muscle where blonde fur began to show. His height increased as his back legs distorted into something more wolfish in nature. A long snout extended from his skull, his nostrils caught the blanket of scents.

As the transformation drew to an end, Benjamin lifted upright. His gaze fixed on Athena as his black lip curled back and a warning snarl escaped through his teeth.

The cracking of bones finally stopped that she lifted her chin up to look at him upside down again. Well, the sound of a body falling to the ground hadn't been something she liked hearing ( or at all, for that matter, when she could feel it through the floor ), but he was breathing.

Listening through the door, she heard Emma shuffle, as though she was hesitant, and then the familiar sound of a tray was set down on the ground and heard her departing.

Her dark eyes connected with his, and she shifted slowly to sit up, hands on the floor and twisting, so her legs still faced the door as she watched him from where she sat. Her heartbeat rapidly against her chest from the rush and her eyes wide with breathless surprise.

"Ben?" Her voice was soft, concern evident on her features, but filled with wondrous curiosity to his changes. It's the first time she had seen him transform, and there weren't words to describe it. ( Other than startling cause that scared the daylights out of her. )

Benjamin growled deeper. His tail confidently held as he lowered his front half, dropping to all fours. He moved cautiously around the foosball table toward the door. The whites of his teeth flickered through his lips on display to her. His muscles rippled under the spiked blonde fur while he drew closer and closer to Athena. Tension laced his frame, but it didn't hinder his movements.

She couldn't breathe. Or at least, felt like she couldn't when she watched Ben approach her. She was wary, but this was Ben, right? Athena didn't move, but her body twitched with the urge to do just that.

"Ben—?" She tentatively tried again.

For several seconds, the werewolf stood just inches from Athena's face. The air seemed to be thick with irritation and aggression. Without much warning, his jaw opened.

A long purplish tongue slipped out then began to lick Athena's face.

And she blinked in surprise, squeaking her surprise when his tongue licked her.

His tail thumped back and forth as he whimpered in happiness. The wolf's head pressed up against her cheek, and his front lowered before it bounced back up. It was obvious he was happy to see her.

With his head pressed against her cheek, she giggled, wrapping her arms around his snout as she reached for behind his ears, scratching. "Oh, that's a good boy," she cooed. She moved to stand so that she was more at his height, though, even with him dropped on all fours, and he was massive.

"And you're beautiful," she murmured, rubbing and running her fingers through his fur. "And soft! Hehe!"

Benjamin just took affection. Absorbed it like a sponge as he panted, his tail still whipping back and forth. It smacked the foosball table, but Ben didn't seem to notice. As Athena's fingers brushed through his soft fur, he flopped over to his side and stretched out. He appeared to be complete bliss.

After several long and drawn out minutes ( make that about fifteen minutes of her simply loving on him, actually… ) of Athena essentially giving wolf Benjamin a rub and a brush through with her fingers, the idol rested her chin on him and looked over at him, recognizing the look of intelligence behind those eyes.

"A werewolf, hm? I wonder how long you've been hiding this from me—I'm hurt," she said, scratching behind his ears. Her voice softened. "Dàn wǒ xīwàng nǐ néng gàosù wǒ..." Shaking her head, she sighed.

"Okay, wǒ de qīn'ài de péngyǒu, time for you to change back because I don't think I can hide you while you're like this and Emma is gonna be coming back up again soon for supper. And I got nothing that can hide you like this." Athena helplessly shrugged, moving to rub his head now.

Benjamin tilted his head, showing confusion, appearing lost at her word. His eyes closed while he enjoyed the rubbings on his head before he began to shift upright. He inhaled then exhaled, his body completely still.

Once more, bones cracked and fur fell off. Ben's transformation reversed until a naked Benjamin stood on all fours before her.

Athena tried her best not to scream. The moment her hands and arms were on the skin instead of fur, she knew. Swearing in all the languages she knew, wishing he had warned her before he straight up just changed back while she was on top of him.

His eyes opened but didn't look her way.

Instead, she squeaked, jumping off of him when he stopped.

"Ummm... Athena, can you look away and get me the blanket off the couch? Please..."

She tried to fight the blush from coming to her cheeks, but it came anyway. "S-Sure!" Athena squeaked. She shuffled away to the couch, pulled off the blanket, and kept her gaze locked to the floor when she made her way over to hand it off to him. It's when he's appropriately covered himself that she lifted her gaze.

Okay, that's going to take some getting used to, she thought.

"You're cuter as a werewolf, you know," she said with a raised brow. It's her attempt at trying to diffuse the awkwardness of Benjamin being naked only moments ago. But, her blushing cheeks were fading as she tried to focus on anything else.

Benjamin chuckled. "Yeah... Someone else thought so too."

His humor died off at the end, despite his attempt to hide it.

Let her dig a hole and stay there. Or the ground swallowing her whole would be okay, too. Something was off, and she just stepped into it.

He coughed and decided to move on. His hands secured the blanket to his hips, moving it slightly where he could grip the fold. It wasn't the best coverage, but he didn't want to walk around naked in front of his best friend. Especially a female one.

"Anyways. Hi... I'm still hazy on the details, but I'm sorry about this. If you could let me dressed properly?"

He didn't wait for her reply as he slipped past, beelining for the door.

Athena didn't watch him leave, instead, decided to take a deep breath, blowing some of her hair out of her face and sighed. Moving to the door, she opened it and picked up the tray of goodies left by Emma and then closed the door behind her. She set the tray down on the coffee table in front of the couch, picked up a macaron, and plopped down on the couch.
Hidden 5 yrs ago Post by KaiserElectric
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KaiserElectric Spaghetti Enthusiast

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Maddy's collar itched like crazy. Considering she designed it specifically so it would not itch, it had to be the nerves getting to her again. Why did it only take fifteen minutes into the first day to feel like something was dreadfully wrong?

Standing off to the side by herself, the lobby of the SPARK center was otherwise packed, flooded with at least a couple dozen young heroes in flashy new costumes milling about and showing off their superpowers. Gouts of flame and bursts of energy went off like firecrackers at random intervals, and quite a few heads bobbed up and down as their owners demonstrated flight powers. Maddy winced as a loud thud echoed across the area and someone dressed like a ninja pirate slammed into a far wall.

"Hey, calm the fuck down!" came a sharp Irish-inflected voice from the front area. "We need Team Leaders up front, A Group!"

That was her, Maddy thought. Pushing up through the crowd, she came to the front desk, where a handful of security guards in brand new outfits flanked a frazzled looking redhead violently sorting through some files.

"Wait a moment," Maddy said, feeling around in her pockets. "I have my-"

"I know it's you Caliber, you're local," the redheaded guard said. "Head on back, first door on the right past the entrance."

"Th-thanks..."

Maddy quietly made her way towards the door in question, glad that no one seemed to have noticed her just yet. Shouldering open the double doors separating the tumultuous lobby from the main halls, she found that the door in question she was due for was already open.

"Well well, if it isn't Caliber."

Maddy flinched as something large dropped from the ceiling right in front of her, with a barely visible outline. It reminded her briefly of the Predator before a pair of yellow slit eyes suddenly appeared in front of her.

"Eep!"

"Oh...did I scare you?" The intruder's voice was harsh and rough, but distinctly feminine all the same, and as she came into view and Maddy got a good look at her, it was a suitable fit. What was a mysterious cloaked figure turned out to be a large, reptilian girl, with pale green skin and a punk hairdo. Her heavy tale swished back and forth as the lizard girl approached, standing a few inches taller and flashing her sharp, glistening white fangs.

"You just...surprised me," Maddy defended herself, trying to take a step back. The lizard girl made a harsh sound that might have been a chuckle on a second listen.

"Gotta stay on your toes if you're gonna order people into a scuffle," the lizard girl retorted sharply. "Fame can't get you everywhere."

"What are you talking about?"

"I mean..." the lizard girl continued, coming threateningly close to her. "If you keep coasting on your brand, people are gonna get hurt."

"What brand? What on-" Maddy gasped as the lizard girl clamped a hand around her wrist, her talons coming close to scratching open her skin.

"I'll go as slowly as possible," the lizard girl leaned in within inches of Maddy's ear, animosity practically radiating off of every threatening, drawn-out word. "You're not posing for pictures and getting autographs like the squid bitch, princess. So you'd better straighten up, before someone else straightens you out."

"G-get off of-!"

"Hey, wh-what's going on here?"

The lizard girl hissed and immediately backed off. Before Maddy could react, the threatening reptile had vanished and stalked away, leaving her more then a little unnerved. Was it a test, some weird measurement of how she handled being under pressure? If it was, she REALLY didn't want to know her grade there. Good thing there was someone else to scare her off.

"Miss, are you okay? You, uh, look kinda scared..."

"N-no, I'm fine," Maddy said dismissively, fighting to regain her composure as she turned to face her savior. "Just dealing with a crazy rep-"

Maddy caught herself as she found herself thanking a rather familiar face; another reptile lady, only this one was short and stocky, dressed in a lab coat and round glasses, a clipboard clenched in her claws.

"A crazy what?" Dr. Alphys asked nervously. "Is there something loose from the labs again?"

"No, nothing like that!" Maddy waved her hands defensively. "I didn't mean to scare you Alphys!"

"How did you...oh, right. From the game!" Dr. Alphys tilted her head slightly. "Still getting used to a lot of strangers knowing who I am. Weird."

"I have the same problem, allegedly." Maddy thought back to the comments the meaner lizard said to her. "I take it you showed up with the Game Genie."

"Oh yes, I've been laying low since that whole thing blew over, just...searching for a few people, doing some odd jobs," Alphys recounted, a hint of sadness in her tone. "Then SPARK contacted me and asked if me and some of the other characters with science backgrounds could come and help out, and so far it's been pretty good! The food's better, lots of nice people, and it's so easy to find good anime!"

"I'm surprised no one else is hiring the video game characters," Maddy mused out loud.

"Well it's not perfect, some of us are having trouble adjusting to a new set of physics and universal rules and all that," Alphys recounted. "Like, there's an alien singing show tunes who's having trouble because he keeps forgetting this world doesn't have a zero element, or something."

"Gilbert and Sullivan, right?"

Alphys' eyes widened in surprise. "How did you know?"

"Had a hunch," Maddy shrugged.

The two nerdy girls flinched as something exploded, blowing the door that Maddy was supposed to enter open.

"Well, uh, good luck with that," Alphys waved as she backed away. "I'll be around if you need me for anything!"

What I need right now, Maddy said to herself as smoke poured from the room...is an adult.
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Hidden 5 yrs ago Post by VATROU
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VATROU The Barron

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New York a thriving metropolis of lights and dreams, the home of many immigrants and Mob families. And now after two decades of silence the mob is back, the look of button men walking the streets and greeting their neighbors is gonna be a real treat for the local neighborhood watch. Still there was quite the Shroud presence and Southie was carving a small corner for himself. Having Mayor Sampson in bed with his enemy complicated matters and careful planning along with a secure supply line would be crucial.

-- Meanwhile in Vegas --


Barron sat in his robe legs shaking in place as he tracked down Ben, Duff had no leads and it was getting tense. Ben needed to be found for both their sakes and Carol came in with a grin on her face.

”You got good news I can see it.”

“Call Duff we found Ben. Or his phone.” Carol sat next to Barron setting her behind on the arm of the chair. “Paid off an employee at Ben’s cellular network texts between his phone and a number under Reid Industries?”

Intrigued Barron paused as his finger stop just over Duff’s contact. ”This Reid Industries you think they were involved with this?”

Carol unsure herself let out a sigh. “Nothing has been dug up on them yet but the exchange seems to be between teenagers, friends possibly. Multiple texts of varying length.”

A slight ringing could be heard as Barron gave thought to the idea. ”If he’s texting we’ll ask him ourselves then.” With an angry and irritated tone Duff almost demanded for any information Barron had to which he happily obliged knowing all too well how dogs act when cornered. Soon Ben would need to answer a few questions about his whereabouts until then Barron hoped he would enjoy his freedom.
Hidden 5 yrs ago Post by Eddie Brock
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Eddie Brock

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Century City, California



April had never been a morning person.

As her alarm blared to alert her that 7 AM had arrived, she groaned and rolled over in her bed. Fumbling with the phone on her nightstand, she eventually found the snooze. With a heavy sigh, she blew the strands of golden blonde hair off her face and somehow summoned the strength to get out of bed. Nearly tripping over furniture on her way to the bathroom, she muttered a curse and silently swore to find a bigger apartment. On an assistant's salary, April? she chided herself. Not likely. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she shuffled forward until her bare feet touched laminate flooring.

Twenty minutes later, she emerged, freshly showered and feeling a touch more human. She tiptoed across the apartment to her closet and picked out her outfit: a coral-colored blouse with a white pencil skirt. Once her hair was mostly dry, she gathered it into a bun and stuck it with a hairstick for a style which could pass for passable. Retrieving her phone and glasses from the nightstand, she slipped into a pair of black heels and marched out the door, leaving herself more than enough time to make a stop at the coffee shop on the corner for a fresh cup and a danish.

April could've ridden the bus to work, but she actually enjoyed the walk. She had grown up in Edwards Point, a small coastal town up north where everybody knew everybody. By contrast, Century City was this incredible, living tapestry of people! It amazed her that she could walk the same way to work every morning and see new faces each time. And no matter how long she lived in the city, she didn't think she'd ever get over her amazement with the architecture; all these buildings, old and new, each with their own unique flavor, towered over her and gave the impression that the city stretched to the horizon. She longed to explore it all someday.

Eventually, the blocky Century City Chronicle headquarters rose up to meet her. April strode into the marble-covered lobby and past the front desk. "Morning, Stu!" April said cheerfully towards the building's portly, mustachioed security guard. She continued on to the elevator, pressing the button marked '15.' As the elevator hummed its way to her destination, April began to think that maybe this morning wouldn't turn out so bad. Maybe tomorrow, she'd wake up before her alarm and face the day with a smile! Maybe--

"You're late."

Mickey Holtz, chief editor and April's boss, said with a glance towards the elevator as the doors opened. His unexpected presence startled April, and she struggled to stammer a response. As usual, Mickey didn't wait around to hear it; he handed an article back to the layout editor with whom he had been speaking and began marching in the direction of his office. April quickened her pace until she fell into his wake. Finding her voice, she protested, "I am not--"

His back still turned, Mickey pointed at the clock mounted on a pillar in the center of the Chronicle bullpen. It read three minutes past 8.

April's mouth closed, and she adjusted the glasses on her nose. Clearing her throat, she adopted a deferential tone and said, "Well, I left your schedule on your desk before leaving last night. You have a content meeting at 9, there's that interview for the sports editor position at 11:30, and your mother called. Twice."

"Did you take a message?" Mickey asked.

"Yes--"

"Good. Now, tear it up," he interjected. By then, they had arrived at his office. For the office of an executive, it was exceptionally cluttered. Mickey was not a well-organized man on his best day, and he had a habit of collecting "mementos" -- which usually meant useless junk for which he held some strange emotional connection. April had, on multiple occasions, offered to tidy up and been threatened on pain of termination not to do so. It looked disorganized to the untrained eye, but Mickey knew exactly where everything was. "Before I forget, tell Oberlin I want him covering the Zenith thing tomorrow," Mickey added as he crossed the threshold.

April's ears perked up at that. Straightening, she replied, "Actually, I wanted to talk to you about that." Gingerly, she followed Mickey into his office. Biting her lip, she continued, "I was thinking that maybe... I could go instead? I mean, we did talk about how I wanted to get into writing eventually, and this seems like a pretty low-stakes opportunity to try it..."

The "Zenith thing" in question was a demonstration being held at Zenith Dynamics. They were meant to be showing off some kind of experimental generator, and a limited number of press invites had been sent out. The Chronicle, by virtue of their significance and reputation, had been among the invited. Whenever Zenith did anything, it was news. They were the cutting-edge, and their advancements in science and technology had been one of the driving factors in Century City's rise over the last ten to fifteen years.

Of course, April had an ulterior motive for wanting to attend the demonstration. When she was young, her father was an experimental physicist. Zenith approached him one day and offered him a job working on some hush-hush project of theirs. Within the year, Dr. Henry Newton was dead, the victim of a mysterious "accident" for which details were scarce. April knew that Zenith was covering something up regarding her father's death; she simply never had the opportunity to figure out what. Well, getting to attend this press event might just give her the start she needed.

Unfortunately, Mickey's response was an unceremonious, "No." That was usually enough to stifle any further discussion, but April was too emotionally invested to give up that easy.

"Well, what if I just accompanied Oberlin?" she offered. It would be much harder to slip away and get some answers with a reporter in tow, but April was confident she could figure something out.

Mickey looked up from his desk, exasperated. "Is there an echo or something in here? I said no," he concluded with dramatic finality. Shuffling some papers around on his desk, he neither noticed nor cared for April's frustrated expression. Sensing her continued presence, however, he added, "If that will be all, I do have a paper to run." He glanced at her only briefly, though his look conveyed everything which needed to be said about the dismissal.

Pouting, April wandered back out into the bullpen. No sooner had she gotten to her desk outside Mickey's office when she felt someone approach. She turned to see Ronald Oberlin, the reporter in question appointed to handle the Zenith story. Oberlin gave her a polite smile and said, "Mickey mentioned that he wanted to see me about something?"

-----


"I am so going to be fired," April groaned before sinking until her forehead touched the table's wooden surface.

Across the booth from her, Daisy laughed. They sat together at McCaffrey's, their watering hole of choice. Daisy's father and April's father had been business partners, an inseparable scientific tag-team duo. Consequently, Daisy was the closest thing April had to a sister. Like Henry, Dr. Miller had also perished in the Zenith accident, so April knew that Daisy of all people would understand why she had lied to Oberlin, why she had told him that she was taking lead on the Zenith demonstration tomorrow. Daisy raised her glass, gulping down the rest of her beer. "Well, if you end up on the street, you've always got a place with me," she offered.

That did little to ease April's guilty conscience. "Let me buy the next round while I'm still gainfully employed," she groaned. Slumping out of the booth, she grabbed the two empty glasses on the table and shuffled over to the bar. McCaffrey's was sparsely populated -- one of its best selling points -- and so April saddled up to a barstool while she waited on the bartender. She buried her head in her arms and tried to make sense of her temporary insanity.

"I recognize that look," came a familiar voice. April looked up to see the bartender, Luke, approaching. She quickly brushed the hair from her face to look like less of a hot mess. Luke took the empty glasses from in front of her and walked over to the tap. As he started their refills, he cocked his head in April's direction and said, "What's weighing you down?"

"Oh, you know," she began, "Just going to get fired tomorrow. No biggie."

Luke smirked. "If it helps, I could put in a good word for you here, maybe get you a job wiping down tables," he joked. That got a laugh out of her.

"Tempting," she bandied back. By then, he had returned with fresh beers. April accepted them with a smile, though she didn't get up to go back to her booth right away. "Well, it's a safe bet you'll be seeing me tomorrow either way," she mused.

"Looking forward to it," he answered in a tone which brought a flush to her cheeks. Before she would allow him to see her reddening face, April scooped up the beers and waddled back over to the booth. Daisy, meanwhile, wore an expression not unlike the cat who caught the canary.

"Are you ever going to ask that boy out?" she challenged April.

Making a face, April tried to laugh off the suggestion. "What, Luke? No, no... he wouldn't be interested in... I mean, he's just being nice to a regular customer, that's all." Despite her attempt to sound casual, the fluttering in her chest told a different story. "Besides, all bartenders flirt. He doesn't mean anything by it."

"Honey, there's flirting, and there's flirting," Daisy insisted. She took a sip of her beer, then wiped the foam from her lip with the back of her hand. Stealing a glance in the direction of the bar, she smirked and said, "See, he's looking over here right now."

April snapped around so fast that she nearly knocked over her glass. However, Luke was neither looking at them nor even facing in their general direction.

"Gotcha."

April's face turned bright red, and she sank down low enough to hide behind the booth. "I hate you," she muttered.
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Hidden 5 yrs ago Post by DearTrickster
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DearTrickster

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Time: The Next Day
Location: The Seine, Paris


David smiled to himself as he pocketed his wallet, his arrangement with the staff in charge finalized and walked back outside.

He had arrived somewhat earlier than was warranted, if only to ensure that everything would turn out perfectly. At first, he’d just intended to mess around a little with the Ambassador. Play a little game, maybe even steal something of hers as a memento, and have a good laugh all around. There was no real motive beyond the fact that he could, and of course, if he found something beyond her civilian identity to use against her down the line, well… all the better.

After the previous night, however… messing with her simply wasn’t enough. He couldn’t quite place his finger on what it was about her that made him feel so compelled to attempt to seduce her. Perhaps it was beating her at her own clever little game, allowing her to think herself victorious to make his own triumph that much sweeter. Perhaps he was charmed by her little façade, and was truly curious to take a peek behind the curtain once she thought the dance was over, so to speak. In truth, there were many ifs, buts and maybes surrounding this little venture of his, but one thing was certain: it was going to be a lot of fun to see it through.

‘Le Calife’* was a gorgeous thing: built in 1939, it had originally served as a cargo carrying barge in Belgium. Its current owner, however, had reconverted it into a moving restaurant that carried people in a magical dining experience across the Seine, passing through a multitude of Paris’ most emblematic locations.

Besides offering a unique perspective of the ‘City of Lights’ (the irony of which was not lost on the Avatar of Darkness), the boat itself was a thing of marvel. From the 300 year old Buddha that served as its nautical figurehead, to the 1800s stained glass that gave way to the city from the inside of its panoramic dining room, to the copper bar, the exquisite woodwork, the myriad of little details that had been put into it… it was practically a love letter to devotion itself; a walk through the past as they looked into the present and beyond. Indeed, the thief could hardly imagine a more romantic setting for their first date.

Most of the night’s guests had already boarded, the anticipation almost palpable in the air. David, however, waited patiently upon the docks, even as the time to set off drew ever closer. He wore a custom fitting, three piece suit of the darkest grey, coupled with a pair of emblematic black oxfords. An impeccable white shirt and a perfectly straight handkerchief to match combined with the colours nicely, and completing the ensemble was a fine tie of the same colour as his suit, with a pleasant, grainy texture, and a couple of exquisite cufflinks, where a number of small, rare black diamonds had been encrusted into an obsidian frame, describing together a complex yet uniform pattern: discreet yet extremely eye-catching once noticed.

David looked down at his silver watch. Just about as fancy and minimalistic as everything he was wearing, its black dial and strap complementing the outfit perfectly. Not as pleasing, however, was the time on display. Where the hell was she?

"Monsieur? I’m afraid we must be leaving soon. The Captain does not abide waiting for anyone,” one of the staff members called out, in hopes of getting him inside.

There are still five minutes left before departure,” he rebutted, “And frankly, whilst I appreciate this city’s commitment to punctuality, the next time someone charges me a fortune and then lectures me about my own, they are going to find one of my very English oxfords up their very french butts. Understood?”

The man swallowed as David set his pale, blue eyes upon him, suddenly feeling very uncomfortable: his anxiety not dissimilar to when he found himself alone in a pitch-black room. He nodded, and proceeded to mind his own business, nervously checking the time.

Purposefully, letting the clock run to the last minute, a slick polished town car pulled up close along the docks. The suited driver jumped out of his seat to open the door for his passenger. A shiny enamel black pump stepped out of the vehicle first, while the driver offered his hand to help her stand out of the car. Taking it out of formality, Odette’s bob of blue hair appeared over the door stepping carefully around. Shoulders straight, a smile poised - as if the time really didn’t matter. Red, classic red lips, sharp black eyeliner with a touch of light-catching champagne eyeshadow on her eyelids. Her little black dress another classic choice, the dress was backless - the shoulders were connected with a little bowtied material tied just below the back of her neck, it’s short shoulder sleeves cut close with high neck and high waist. Her back tattoo was on full display, skin without a single scar. A pair of solid gold ball studs were in her ears, a small pearlescent gold necklace hung around her clavicle.

In her hand was a small black leather Prada clutch, enchanted with space to store a few emergency supplies. Not one to go anywhere without some backup, thanking her driver - she sauntered over to the docks seeing David Blackwood waiting for her. The first date she had been on in quite some time, with a night of a little preparation, she was on the playing field. There was frustratingly no information on David anywhere to be found, scouring through her friend groups - and social circles. Asking other dancers, critics, even reporters if they had seen or heard of him before. Nobody, except the few patrons who had been around him the night they met.

One thing was very clear after meeting David, he had orchestrated it. They were similar in that way, Odette remembered the nights she cased out potential partners by their social media profiles, dating histories and word of mouth. It was all fantastic practice becoming exactly what they wanted. It was theatre, emotional manipulation, and how far she could go before her unwitting lover realized they were apart of a game.

And yet, amidst everything she had to focus on - smuggling for the Syndicate, negotiating and treating the faerie in Paris, daily hours put into ballet. . . There was no distraction quite like a gentleman, especially when he insisted on treating her to a boat ride down the Seine. The barge itself was the picture of what tourists dreamed of when they thought of Paris. Beautiful, old, and romantic. It was a fantastic illusion.

As for illusions, she resolved to pick at the threads to unravel David Blackwood’s handsome and charming visage. Getting under someone’s skin, especially someone like David required a few tricks.

The heels gave her an extra few centimeters where she was now eye level in height with David, equal ground. Offering her hand for him to take she greeted him with a tender cadence, “Bonsoir, Monsieur Blackwood. Thank you for inviting me to dinner tonight, I’m sure this will be a treat for even a local such as myself.

She gestured to the barge, “Shall we?

David took her hand in his own, once again raising it to his lips, the irritation in his features gone, his glaucous blue eyes smiling at her as he did so. “The pleasure is all mine, Mademoiselle Favre,” he greeted her, stepping aside and raising a hand in the boat’s direction, “Please, after you.

A staff member greeted them as they entered, showing them into the panoramic dining area known as ‘the Winter Garden.’ Their table rested right in the middle of the dining room, next to one of the stained glasses. It was just starting to get dark outside, and a set of four, medium-sized inverted dome lamps lit up, their stained-glass covers depicting colourful flowers separated by a metal rim.

Once seated, David donned an easy-going smile, a mysterious quality to it as he regarded her. The waiter produced a long, tube-nosed lighter, attempting to light the candle that stood dead center between them.

The thief allowed this to go on for several moments, an amused look as he rested his chin on his fist, the man’s frustration growing with each attempt as the light simply went out every time.

“My apologies, this is most strange. We always use fresh lighters at the beginning of every evening… If you’ll just give me a moment…”

It is no bother, mon ami, David replied in his perfect French, producing a small, platinum-plated lighter which produced a small filament of deep purple plasma as he lit it up, it’s look and sound not unlike a taser. He’d quickly found bunsen and plasma lighters were about the only thing that allowed him to keep up his smoking habit.

The waiter raised a brow, nodding in compliance as he gave them a pair of open menus. Before he left, David raised a hand, We’ll have a bottle of your best pinot noir wine, si vous plait. If you have something from the Coast of Nights villages, that would be excellent.

The man nodded knowingly, “I know just the one.”

David nodded, pleased, then went back to regarding his date, unabashedly admiring the figure the black dress cut on her, his gaze slowly moving upwards -lingering a second or two on the crimson of her lips- before finally settling on the black ice blue of her eyes, piercing into him.

For a moment there, I wondered if you’d show up,” he confessed calmly, his smile widening ever so slightly, “Only for a moment.

She crossed her leg over her knee, watching as the waiter failed to light the candle thinking of how to respond to him, he left to retrieve their drinks her gaze drifted back to David, “I live to keep people on their toes, I am quite curious about you Monsieur Blackwood. I wanted to commend you in person for your research.” She tucked a few strands of hair behind her ear, “Your ‘guess’ on my preferred drink momentarily impressed me.

With one hand she fluttered at him, “Truthfully,” she lied, “That little fact alone would irritate most but it has resulted in dinner and an opportunity.

The lie being it didn’t irritate her.

Glancing over the menu, her foot gently swaying back and forth in thought. As all the guests were properly seated, the barge pulled away from the docks gently beginning its journey down the Seine. The soft light of twilight cast a romantic glow around them. In this light, anyone could truly be anything.

David’s right brow raised simultaneously with the left corner of his lips. “Mademoiselle, please. The implication is hurtful,” he feigned offense whilst clearly remaining amused, the fingertips on his right hand coming to rest mockingly above his heart. Ah, merci, he winked at the waiter as he returned with a rare (and very expensive) bottle of red, presenting it to them.

And what kind of opportunity do you suppose presents itself?” he asked as the man opened the bottle, proceeding to quickly open it and serve a small amount on David’s cup. He took it, swirled it for a moment as he smelled it, then drew a small sip, allowing it to linger in his tongue before swallowing, Excellent, thank you.

The waiter proceeded to fill their cups, leaving the bottle as he decided to return later for their orders.

Cradling the wine glass in the palm of her hand, she leaned into the back of her chair, again choosing to wait before drinking.

She replied simply, “To play.

You know what I like to drink, can’t let you go exposing all of my secrets.” She joked, taking a sip of the wine and having to stop herself from immediately making a noise of approval. It was good, another glance at the menu she saw duck, salmon, and steak. “Not without learning some of your own of course, what does a man who flashes money like it is his identification card do for work?

David smiled to himself, looking down at the menu: the question was not entirely unexpected.

Oh, you know, a bit of this, a bit of that. Whatever suits my fancy, really,” he shrugged slightly, deciding the steak was to his liking, “I started off as a consultant, mostly in legal and management fields. Eventually, I grew bored and started flipping real estate. Lots of passive income to be had. I also started a couple of companies of my own, which I sold off for a nice profit when the getting was good... What else... Venture capital, private equity, a healthy amount of stock market investment. Oh, yes, and I’ve been quite into art dealing lately. Although I would say it’s more of a hobby than an actual profession at this point.

Her eyes narrowed briefly, no specifics, no names, vague. She replied, “How interesting,” She kept her gaze on him, “I have dabbled in real estate, I own the building I live in. I started with nothing, now I have everything I could want.

What is that you want, Monsieur Blackwood if your work and hobbies do not sustain your attention for long? Frankly, I would be restless if I were in your position.” Settling her chin into her palm, casually prying as she did, “I always have something set in my sights to achieve.

That would possibly be the truest statement she’d express that evening, her ambition never let her rest. There was always someone else to win, a deal to broker, or another heart to break. He had money to throw around but surely he was throwing it at something in particular.

He smiled faintly, the pale of his eyes clashing against the intensity of her own as he broke his perfect posture, leaning forward slightly. “Oh, believe me, Mademoiselle Favre. There is always something that I want. My hunger knows no bounds.

The candle began flickering nervously, casting strange shadows over his handsome features, until the man finally leaned back.

Speaking of which, right now I want some steak. Have you decided yet?” he casually asked, closing the menu.

Her smile disappeared briefly in the flicker of the light, in another heartbeat it was back she blinked as she closed the menu, quietly she noted, “The guinea fowl, please.” Sipping again on her wine as she looked out the window to the view, seeing something in the shallows of the darkening water of the river.

I am famished. I had a few auditions earlier today,” She said absentmindedly while focusing on the water. Something was swimming alongside the barge. “Manon, the demi-soloist I am covering for is still too sick to perform for Midsummer.

Whatever it was, it wasn’t coming up for air - not yet.

And they’re still considering her, after your performance?” he raised a brow at this, his eyes trailing hers. He, for once, saw nothing out of the ordinary, “Your director’s an idiot. Regardless, I trust they went well,” he noted. It was not a wishful statement: simply a fact, as the man signaled their waiter that they were ready to ask, getting their orders out of the way swiftly.

The barge began passing at a convergence point: on one side, the ‘Palais de Challiot’s’ grandeur greeted them, whilst on the other side the magnificence of the famous Eiffel tower shined down upon them: literally, as it had grown dark and the structure had been lit up.

The ambiance in the room had grown more intimate as the sun had settled, a dark atmosphere that suited the thief just fine. “Your city’s beauty never ceases to astound me,” he commented as he took a small sip of his wine. However, despite the splendor around them, his eyes remained firmly fixed upon her.

Putting her glass down she laughed at his comment about the director, hiding it behind a hand. His heavy gaze would surely have set others squirming in their seats, but she found herself liking it. One thing was sure her date seemed genuinely pleased, more than pleased with her performance. Her ego inflated at that, looking up to the Eiffel Tower trying to see it as he must have, her city’s center where all roads met, “I have a memory from every point on the river, could tell you more than a tour guide has rehearsed. A real Parisian’s Paris is much different than what you can pay to see.

She pointed to the tower, “Parties, school trips, midnight trouble painting the town red, dates much like this one. Dares to climb to the top of the spire without being caught by security,” She sighed, unable to control the admiration - the bubbling nostalgia. “It’s beauty never wears away, even when she has many faces.

Wondering briefly if David would ever be prepared to see beyond what she would present. There was no way of telling, at least for now.

David actually chuckled at this. “I’m almost jealous. Sounds like you’ve had quite the exciting life here. Who knows, perhaps you and I can scale the tower some time, mhm?” he asked. Despite his general state of slight amusement, the man didn’t seem to be joking: if anything, he seemed a bit too eager, his imagination having flared. “Just… don’t tell my insurance company. My worth would plummet,” he winked at her.

I would, however, wait to make any assumptions regarding this date until it’s over,” he leaned back slightly on the comfortable chair, “If by the end of the night you still feel like you’ve been on dates ‘much like this one,’” he echoed, “I will conclude that I am not worthy of pursuing you further, and shan’t bother you anew.

How amicable of you.

She scrunched her nose as she smiled, teasing him, “Having only met you I already find it hard to believe you’d think yourself unworthy of anything.

Odette saw the waiters begin carrying silver platters with entrees and appetizers, she had failed to notice any significant amount of time that had passed since they placed their orders. It clearly had as the Eiffel Tower was long left in the background now. Time had slipped by her. The servers both placed their steaming entrees before them, offering freshly ground pepper - efficiently filling their glasses with water as quickly as they had come they bowed their heads and quietly said their bon appetit. Before her was a plate that could have easily been pulled from magazine pages, the smell alone made her stomach rumble.

She almost wished she was at home to eat this.

Pleasantly she smiled raising her glass of wine to David, “Bon appétit, David.

Bon appétit,” he echoed, the sound of glass hitting against glass filling the air.

Dinner was... well, wonderful, much to his chagrin. Unlike Odette, David had no qualms devouring his steak (with impeccable manners, naturally). However, most of the course they spent talking and enjoying each other’s company. David could not count the number of women he’d dated, from veritable bimbos to artists of renown and neuroscientists... but in the brief time he’d known her, none seemed quite as exciting as her. Perhaps it was the fact that she led a double life, just like him or the fact that he knew just how dangerous she was... but whatever it was, a part of his brain had to constantly remind him that he was playing a game here: every time she did that little thing with her nose and smiled, or took him somewhere else with an anecdote, or looked at him like she could chew him up and spit him out. Even when they engaged in a battle of wits -which was more often than not,- subtly quipping and counter-wisecracking, even when he cheated, she still managed to make him drop his guard ever so slightly. Something easily corrected, of course, but which should not have happened to begin with.

By the time their courses were retired, they had gone through most of the bottle of wine, and had made their first pass across the Invalides, the Grand Palais, the Assemblee Nationale and the Musée d’Orsay, and where slowly creeping up to the Louvre: a place he knew intimately. Despite all this, his notice of them was passing at best.

Failing to stifle another giggle behind her hand, she said, “If there comes a time when-” Eyes glided up to look out the windows but not before catching another set of eyes staring at them from across the dining area, she continued to look away up to the scenery pretending she hadn’t noticed them, changing what she was about to say, “. . .When someone knows that staring across the room is incredibly rude.” She chewed at the inside of her cheek.

She looked back to David, “Behind you there is a pair of strangers staring us down, I do not recognize them. I do not normally get accosted in public for ballet.

It is because I usually can cast a spell on them to ignore me., she thought, drumming her nails against the table.

David frowned slightly at this, looking back over to them. A dawning suspicion grew on him, the man shooting them an irritated look.

Well,” he turned back to look at her, his features softening into a pleasant smile, “This is kind of a high-end restaurant. Not the craziest place to find some of your fans. Don’t worry, though, I know just how to deal with them.

With that, he turned around again and flipped them off. This earned him a couple of wide eyes from a guest or two that caught the gesture, but the thief did not seem to mind terribly, as the quartet became rather flustered at all the attention they were suddenly receiving, looking away and muttering amongst themselves.

David smiled at her, although something in the back of his mind told him this wasn’t quite over. “See? Sometimes being the rudest person in the room is the best way to deal with undesirables,” he noted, taking a small sip from his glass. “Not that I’d want you to cultivate such a dreadful image of me,” he added, though there was a hint of playfulness in his eyes.

David,” She admonished without any heat, her frown melting away into a small laugh, “It seemed to work, this time.

Squinting at their backs before returning to David, “More wine?

Please,” he smiled, mildly happy he hadn’t completely blown it, “In fact, if you’ll excuse me, I’m afraid I must use the service. Why don’t you get us another bottle in the meantime? We still have another couple of hours before the cruise is over,” he asked as he stood up, neatly placing his napkin on the table.

As he passed her by, his hand idly caught a stray strand of blue hair, neatly tucking it behind her ear without actually ever touching her: mostly sleight of hand, coupled with a small measure of his power, almost imperceptible tendrils of darkness finishing the job for him. He smiled to himself: he was getting better.

And if his suspicions were right, some unfortunate folks were about to learn just how much.

She sat still as he nearly touched her, a hand curling around the hem of her dress. As he passed she turned in her seat to watch his back disappear, noticing a pair from the table that stared at them had gotten up to leave shortly after David had.

He never did quite make it to the bathroom, sneaking instead to the outside terraces. He was careful to make sure Odette did not see, but obvious enough that the nosy table would.

As expected, eventually two of the four ‘rude guests’ made it to the deck, which was fortunately vacated. The couple, a man and a woman, looked around for David, but he was nowhere to be seen.

“Where the hell did he...”

The woman was never able to finish her phrase as a pair of shadowy tentacles seemed to appear out of nowhere, covering both their mouths and effectively muffling all sound. Another four tendrils wrapped around their wrists, preventing them from moving their arms freely.

I am assuming since one of the ladies is hereafter I showed you the bird, you’re not just here to kick my ass for being a tad too cheeky,” David appeared behind them: his shadowplate might make him stealthier, but he did not need it for a good old disappearing act. The shadows twisted them around, forcing the pair to face him. “You’re Obscurati, are you not?

Both of them shot venom at him with their eyes. David sighed, and not being one to hurt a defenseless lady, he gave the man a low left hook, right in the kidney. His eyes widened, his knees buckled, but David’s shadowmancy wouldn’t let him fall to the ground.

You people have tested my patience far enough. Listen to me, and listen to me closely: I don’t have the Heart of Erebus anymore. It’s disappeared. Gone when it gave me these powers. And I am certainly not interested in making any deals with you lunatics,” he sighed, “At first I figured I would just vanish, make you give up. But I’m starting to see that is no longer an option. I don’t know how you’re tracking me, and frankly, whilst our little game of cat and mouse was amusing at first… now you’ve decided to meddle in my private life. That was a colossal mistake.

He began adjusting his suit. “Here’s what’s going to happen: I’m going to go back to enjoying my lovely date, and you two are going to enjoy a lovely swim in the Seine. Once you get out, you’re going to call your bosses and tell them to start running scared: Noir is bringing the war to them.

Their screams were never heard as the shadows flung them over the boat and dragged them inside the water. David waited for a few moments, keeping his concentration before finally releasing them. And with that, he went back inside: he’d figure out how to deal with the other two goons as he went. After all, the mark of a great thief was knowing how to improvise when things didn’t go according to plan.

I’m sorry I kept you waiting,” the man apologized as he returned to his seat, a small smile on his face, “I promise not to make a habit of it.

While David had been quite busy Odette received a few visitors of her own. She maintained a strained smile, a new bottle of wine sat on their table and her foot anxiously bounced under the table. To her left, noses pressed up against the windows spotty faces of three happy Selkies smiling toothily at their Ambassador. Waving and calling out to her in common fey for her ears and her ears only. With no way to tell them to go away, they carried on, oblivious to her apparent attempts to ignore them.

More selkies joined the other side, not before getting distracted by something in the water - pushing away from the windows to investigate.

The wine in the bottle sloshed as their presence moved the water to them and made waves splash against the barge. Forcing the captain to adjust course.

Welcome back.” she said, forcing her foot to settle on the ground, “I hope everything is alright?

Trying to focus on him instead of the Selkies.

Why wouldn’t I be? As far as I’m concerned, I am currently one of the luckiest men on earth,” he deflected, donning his best smile as he served her some more wine, trying not to look back at the other two. For all their crazy cultist talk, the Obscurati had so far been discreet in public. He’d just have to trust there hadn’t been a change in policy. Subtly, he attempted to change the subject, “I have to say, that’s quite the tattoo you have on your back. A yew tree?” he prodded.

Odette nodded, “Oui, you have a good eye. It is a yew tree. I have a special. . .” She searched for the right word in English, pursing her lips as she did, “L’attirance, a connection to the symbol of the Yew. I promised myself to only get one tattoo in my life, the hair,” She chuckled, “Is already pushing it for ballet while tattoos are frowned upon for dancers.

Glancing down at the table, away from the Selkies, “Deciding on a large, tasteful, depiction of a tree on my back was my way around the rules.

There are always loopholes,” she noted quietly, mostly to herself. Glancing back to the right, expecting to see the Selkies return - the window was vacant, she turned to the left and saw they were gone as well, something got their attention. Confusion writ on her expression.

Deep below the waters, the selkies were drawn by the thrashing of bodies trying to swim against the current with no real luck. They surrounded the man and woman, invisible to them especially in the darkened waters of the Seine. Rubbery hands gripped their legs tugging them underwater, wherein the darkness the faerie revealed themselves to the cultists. Their mouths opened, gaping happily at the cultists - greeting them with their teeth, touching their faces as they dragged them lower to the bottom of the river. Bubbles at the surface where the cultists disappeared, rapidly skimmed then slowly faded. Unseen, impossible to tell with no natural light, were blots of blood rising to the surface as the bubbles once had.

Descending from the shadows of the Louvre came the shrouded figure, witnessing the deaths in the only way she knew how to: by screeching into the night. Her wail ripped across the Seine, her pale face in agony as she sailed over the spot where the cultists were seen last. Her wailing persisting for a few minutes, piercing ears, chilling bones, signaling the sometimes abrupt end mortals face.

All the patrons aboard Le Calife carried on while Odette waited for the Banshee to complete her cry. Schooling her expression, however, what surprised her was David’s reaction.

He had been listening to her intently, trying (and failing) to remember any kind of symbolism that was particularly connected to the yew tree. He opened his mouth, about to spew a clever remark, as always.

Well, I think...” he paused, however, a frown drawing on his expression, nose burrowing, almost as if he’d caught wind of a bad smell.

His eyes suddenly widened, pain visible in his contorting features as he brought both hands up to his ears.

CHRIIIIIIIIST! What in the Devil’s name is that?!” he cried.

The dome lights began to violently flicker, and the candlelight between them went out entirely. A few patrons looked at him with concern, others at the lights above them. Odette’s expression clued him in: he had to be the only one who could hear it. He looked around, noticing no one else seemed to be affected. He even suspected some kind of sonic attack, but the two remaining Obscurati seemed as confused as everyone else.

Desperate, the man breathed in quickly through his nose. It was hard to concentrate, but fortunately, he’d always fared well under pressure: with a magnanimous effort, he created two small earplugs, pure darkness clogging them.

It took him a moment to compose himself: for the first time in a long time, he found himself at a loss for words, the room’s lights returning to normal.

I... I’m sorry,” he told her, although he could not hear himself speaking, a hint of a blush in his cheeks, “I truly don’t know what just came over me.

Staring at him, Odette only broke her eyes away to look at the lights then the candle. Her brow furrowed as the wailing began to fade, the barge continued to sail away from the deaths and banshee, she hadn’t known a banshee to effect the lights with her wail before. . .perhaps she had known the people that died and that was why it was different? David… he without a doubt heard her wail, but he hadn’t seen the selkies. Was he transitioning to see and hear them? The selkies were right in the window. . .She was confused, he had no idea what he just heard that much was clear by his reaction.

Monsieur Blackwood,” She began her tone shifting, the first question to naturally ask, “What exactly did you hear?

David could not hear a word she was saying, but fortunately, Swiss and the Quiet Man had taught him the art of reading lips during the early stages of his ‘career'.

I… I’m sure it was nothing,” he stuttered unconvincingly, “Perhaps I have a mild ear infection?

Now, that was perhaps the crappiest excuse he’d ever given, but all things considered, he was fresh out of ideas, having no actual idea of what had just transpired.

Odette stared for a moment longer then relaxed, would it be worth pursuing at risk of sounding paranoid or crazy herself? How could she explain hearing a banshee or describing what he may have heard as anything else beyond a strange occurrence. The occult was a sure way to ruin dinner, as were faerie in general. Her thumb drummed on the stem of the wine glass, the longer she thought the awkward air of silence grew between them. They needed a distraction. She’d have to let it go, for now.

Perhaps we can go for a walk?” Odette suggested, “Get some air?

She seemed to read his mind, and his smile was almost grateful as he stood from his seat. He doubted for a moment, steeling himself as he removed the shadow-plugs. His smile widened, relieved, upon seeing the horrific, excruciating cry had disappeared. His composure seemed to return to him as he straightened up, his smile growing enigmatic.

Actually, I think I have a better idea. Come with me, I have a little surprise for you,” he invited her, motioning towards their waiter and signalling towards the bottle and glasses, the man nodding in some sort of silent agreement between the two.

Another staff member pulled aside a red velvet cord from one of its black and brass posts, allowing them passage down a set of stairs, leading them down to a door. David opened it halfway, signaling with a hand for her to enter.

After you, Mademoiselle.

As soon as she would enter, she would be greeted by a beautiful, bending stairway, its golden railings leading down to an oval room. As they began to descend, the room slowly illuminated, spotlights shining down one by one on the cleared area to present an improvised ballroom. In the back sat a beautiful, 1879 Steinway piano, a lady in an elegant dress behind it, a small, string band sitting nearby. However, they remained mostly shrouded in darkness, as if to create the illusion that they were not entirely there.

Their first step on the dancefloor served as the cue for the band, which began to play a beautiful, slow waltz. David extended a hand to her.

Would you do me the honour?

The sight of the dancefloor warmed Odette to the core, the hesitation she had following him across the threshold down the stairs evaporated, the music brought a certain light to her eyes. When her eyes settled on David, inviting her to dance with him. She found herself having no doubt in his sincerity, placing her hand in his.

Oui, Monsieur.” She said softly.

As his hand closed around hers lifting it up while his other hand rested on her waist, easily the closest they had been all evening. Her free hand rested, informally, against his shoulder between their arms, Odette followed his lead, her gaze not leaving his own. The small bit of tension that had been present all evening began to bubble anew between them, as they stepped in time to the waltz, moving as one.

You know how to dance.” She stated, matter-of-factly.

David chuckled as they glided across the dancefloor. “That is high praise coming from you, Mademoiselle,” he seemed to thank her, “My family was rather keen on me being able to… adapt to any kind of social situation.

Why the hell was he talking about his family right now? And what perfume was that?

I did my best to show my discontent with it all, but I always secretly loved to dance,” he noted as he lifted his arm, his posture perfect as she gracefully twirled around beneath it, finally catching her as their bodies knelt in unison, “I even caught on to a few tricks of my own.

Pressed against his torso as they knelt she held her breath involuntarily, smoothly being brought back up to standing stepping in a circle together all in time to the music, responding as they danced, “Your secret love of dance is safe with me,” she said, stretching out their arms they stepped in unison once more in a circle holding each other’s hand, “Dancing for me is freedom.

With a slight tug Odette spun back into his arms once more, “Free to choose, free to express. . .” She leaned over his shoulder to whisper, “Freedom to simply be.

Is that what you want?” he whispered back, the volume of his voice matching her own.

Odette tilted her head, waiting for him to continue.

He held her close, eyes gazing deep into her own as he began leading into a particularly complicated set of steps for a waltz. Unsurprisingly, she had no trouble following him as they hovered above the wooden boards, their dance becoming almost something out of fantasy.

I believe you believe it is. Truly,” his words were soft, for her ears only, “And perhaps it is, in some small measure. But please, let’s be candid for a moment here... You want to choose? To express? You couldn’t care less what the world thinks about you. You just want them to think you do. And I know you want more than to simply be.

He raised his hand again, her dress floating as she began elegantly twirling around him, speaking in pace with her turns. “You want to know the unknowable. To control the uncontrollable. To triumph against the unbeatable. But it’s never enough, is it?” he asked as he caught her, “It’s never enough to truly feel.

For a moment, it was hard to discern whether he was talking about her, or himself. The music slowed down, and they took a step apart to perform a courtsey, signalling the end of the dance. He held onto her hand a second longer than was warranted, before bowing to her.

The music came to a stop, leaving a charged silence between the two. David proceeded to calmly remove his cufflinks, then his jacket, walking away to leave it aside, neatly folded. As he returned, he rolled up his sleeves, before looking towards the band and producing two, circular motion with his index finger pointing towards the ceiling. Understanding, they began playing a fiery bachata song.

He came close, but did not embrace her even as his hands got into position, waiting, almost challenging her to join him.

Knowing what pace he was about to set, Odette straightened her hair and stepped up. As if she’d shy away from something even if it was outside her normal wheelhouse.

She was the professional, afterall.

Placing her hands in his, she smiled then followed him once more into the steps. Knowingly he wrapped his arm around her torso, no space between them now. It felt as though they were hitting a carnal chorus line. Odette knew as he found his way beneath her skin, she had the same effect on him.

As they danced it became increasingly clear, there would be only one outcome for the evening.

The bachata called for loose hips, depending on David to balance her weight against himself, quick and decisively fluid steps. It was surely a complex movement but they made it look easy.

They no longer found themselves talking, yet their conversation carried on.

As the music picked up, their movements became more frenzied, yet at the same time, more intimate. An intuitive choreography where, no matter how much they twisted and turned, knelt and rebound, their bodies always found each other. He could barely think as her entirety arched in teasing motions; as he pressed his hands upon her belly, her shape moving in unison with his; as she threw her arms around his neck, her breath warm and inviting, red, truly red lips mere barely an inch away from his own.

The music died down and they stood like so for… well, he wasn’t quite sure. Sweat ran down their foreheads, their chests heaving together, their noses brushing against each other.

It took him all the willpower he had to take a step back, never really letting go of her. “Perhaps... perhaps we should get some air,” he suggested, a smile on his face as he tried, for once, not to make eye contact.

Gripping his shirt in a fist she held, finding her thoughts back on track counting her breaths as her heart had drummed on. Nodding against his forehead, pushing off from him slipping out of his hands, placing a hand over her chest. For a moment her thoughts weren’t with her, their dance was just a blur of movement. The pianist stood handing them cloth napkins, Odette dabbed carefully wary of her makeup. They climbed the stairs back up to the upper decks, where they could step outside. Walking at a leisurely pace, letting her hips sway.

Past the patrons, up the stairs to the viewing deck Odette and David arrived to the railings, looking out with a slight evening breeze greeting them. Odette fanned her face, taking a deep breath in through her nose. Letting the moment comfortably rest, as Paris slowly passed them by.

That was. . . exhilarating, Monsieur.” She began after some time, a certain glow warming her cheeks, turning to face him, “I-

Scrunching her nose with another smile, it was to her surprise - genuine, “I enjoy dancing with you. As we dance around with our words, secrets, and bodies. . .” Reaching up to caress his cheek, “You are right, I want more. I am never simply satisfied, but-

Grinning as her hand fell to his collar, she gripped the material - fire burning in her eyes, “I think you could for the night.

For a second, he was hers. The world, the beautiful city, everything seemed to dissipate around him as her nose scrunched, as her hand gently ran down his face, as she brought him closer... then he smiled.

The spell was broken, and she was right where he wanted her.


“Do not turn around. I have eyes on the target. They appear to be heading to the upper deck.”

Agent Wedge, or more accurately, Shadow Agent Wedge, nodded in understanding, taking a bite out of his flan. “I do not like this,” he idly commented, his voice low, “We still have no word from our ‘friends.’ Do you think he...?”

Agent Biggs shook her head. “It does not suit his profile. He’s quite happy to hurt, but he does not kill. Did quite a number on some of our boys last night, but no casualties,” she noted, taking a bite of her own brownie, “Amateurs.”

Wedge grimaced, “That is a bit of an understatement. Have you seen what he did to Commander Sven? Punched his jaw clean off.”

“He had literally just received his powers,” she countered, “And the way I hear it, the Commander did very little to fall in his good graces.”

“I still think we should just have the bastard shot from afar,” Wedge countered, frustrated, “Give me his location and a rifle and I...”

She shook her head again, clearly the superior officer. “It’s not that easy. The Heart of Erebus now resides within him. We need to extract the body or we could lose it again. Alive, preferably, so use the non-lethal rounds. Now finish your flan, he’s distracted, and won’t see the both of us coming if we flank him. It’s unlikely we’ll get a better chance.”

“What about the girl?” Wedge asked.

“What about her?” she shrugged, licking the last chocolate goodness of her spoon, “Seine’s as good a place as any to dump a body.”


Bollocks, he thought. Another of those Obscurati wankers, and at the most inconvenient time of all.

He brought Odette closer to him, his hand on the small of the back as he leaned in to whisper in her ear. His eyes, however, were on the man behind Odette, producing a gun.

My dear Odette,” he said, his concentration focused on producing inky tentacles out of the surrounding darkness, “One should be careful what they wish for... It’s like I said,” he continued, slowly, trying not to lose his concentration as a dark mass assaulted the man, twisting around his mouth and his gun hand. One of the dark tentacles began sharply snapping back, making the man smack himself with his own gun, once, twice, then a third strike that sent him careening over the railing, “One can never have too much of a good thing.

Hearing him speak her name, she tightened her hand over his arm. Over his shoulder, Odette saw the other darkly clad Obscurati, unbeknownst to her what she actually wanted, to Odette all she knew was that they had interrupted their dining experience. In French, she comfortably switched as if it was a matter of being able to express herself more accurately, but really it was to work in a few Words of Power to dispose of the woman.

Draping her arms over David’s shoulders, making eye contact with Agent Biggs Odette’s hands glowed light blue she spoke to David, “There is no denying the pull, pooling tension.

It was a water-based spell she had picked up from the fey, specifically Princess Lassantra. Mystic blue mist fell over Agent Biggs’ head, the colour drained from the woman’s face as the blood throughout her body was pulled into her chest. She clutched at her shirt stumbling, gripping the railing, gaping as she stared at Odette - horror etched into her expression. While the sorceress only smiled, tucking her chin against David’s shoulder. Releasing the spell closing her hand into a fist, the Selkies had returned, Odette gave a slight nod of approval. Happily, they pulled their final victim for the night into the river.

She leaned back, a hand at the nape of his neck, cold little blue wisps of light disappearing as her hand relaxed.

He furrowed his brows slightly at her choice of words. Perhaps he was a bit rustier than he thought? No, that was ridiculous. It was clearly some kind of local idiom he was unfamiliar with.

Besides, what did it matter? She wanted him… and she was far more than he had expected. Than he could’ve hoped for. She was maliciously smart, twistedly funny and painfully beautiful. He could almost feel the tension between them, energy crackling in their proximity. All the Gods in the Olympus be damned, he wanted her.

I will steal your heart,’ he thought to himself.

He then smiled at her, the back of his fingers caressing her cheek before cupping it, slowly sliding to the base of her neck.

Don’t say I never warned you,” he whispered, then leaned in as the hand on the small of her back brought her close against his body.

His kiss was soft yet deep, a conundrum in and of itself. The thief flavoured it, yet showed restraint, controlling his eagerness.

Passion, mystery, death, drama, and romance. Things Odette once believed impossible to achieve in a single night. As his lips found hers, she wanted to know more, pull back the layers and find the strange shrouded heart. Keep it for herself and herself alone, this fine, new - delicate thing she held in her arms.

Surely she was strong enough to prevent the past from repeating itself, surely her equal was out there man or woman. The only way to find them was to look, not only look but to see. She felt his restraint, the invitation. Breathing in deep from her nose, they naturally parted after a few moments held in suspended time.

Don’t hold back.” She breathed.

Heh,” he laughed under his breath, “If you only knew, my dear. If you only knew.


*This is a real place, yo. If you’re ever in Paris, treat yourself.
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Hidden 5 yrs ago Post by fdeviant
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fdeviant Witch o' the Wood

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Witch Hunt

Baleful Breath


Location: Hexentanzplatz, Harz Mountains – Germany
Time: Mid-Morning, Two Weeks Ago




Night’s black agent, wretched hag,
careful, crooked, cunning witch.
Away, anon! On air she rides,
on demon steed and broom astride.
From here to there, whence and thence;
around and about, along and throughout.


”I go, I go; Look how I go,
Swifter than arrow from the Tartar’s bow.”


Marie sang the familiar verse with elven grace, lifted by those enchanted words in transvection to the place she desired. Such travel had become commonplace; in the past few months, without the aid of Puck’s door, Marie was forced - though she was largely unbothered - to use those other methods of travel known to her kind: the flying ointments and oils, the fetch-beast, and most recently, the witches saddle gifted to her by the coven in El Paso. She had even relied upon The Ambassador’s own network of portals, more instantaneous than physical or spectral flight, but far less freeing.

Perched on the very tip of her birch steed, like the figurehead at the helm of a ship, was Holt, enrobed in corvid shape, stoic and unyielding.

By comparison, Marie was jovial, maddened even. Her hair was a mess of windblown streamers, a tattered flag waving proudly atop its spire, falling haphazardly over her tired eyes whenever the fancy struck. She wore a gossamer gown, little more than a slip of black fabric, fastened to her body by thin strings that fell over her shoulders and a length of white cordage around her waist.

Below, the roar of morning began to overtake the calm of flight. Church bells echoed over ancient Saxon buildings, shops and storefronts greeted early guests, it was all so routine, normal, peaceful.

Marie hovered for a time, observing, obscured to the people below by a phantom cloud conjured by Holt’s cunning arts. She searched a small leather bag, fastened around the broom’s handle and filled with only the essentials, for her lifeline to Odette, leaving her a message.

”Hope I caught you at a good time. I’ve made it to Germany following a lead to The Wild Hunt. I’m headed to a mountain range called “The Witches Dance Floor.” I have it on good authority that one of Puck’s brothers frequents the ruins atop the mountain. I’ll contact you with anything I find.”

”The witches baleful breath holds aloft the path to each brother, where two paths meet.” Holt repeated the Weird Trio’s prophecy, ”You believe Master Leonard is the key to unlocking the path to The Hunter?”

Marie nodded, looking up at the mountain range, shielding her eyes from the slowly rising sun. ”And this ‘baleful breath’ is almost certainly the book from my vision. It bore a certain invocation, a song calling upon the power of Azazel.”

”Then it is no small coincidence,” Holt replied, silently marvelling at the interwoven story of Gwyneth and Mab’s children. There were other forces at play, he could sense. But how they might be affecting this journey, and to what end, remained a mystery.

The two continued in silence, flying higher into the mountains, passing the suspended lift that carried curious tourists up to the ruins at the top, a place once belonging to the Saxons, a place of worship, or according to local lore, a meeting place for witches and their Sabbats.

They landed atop the crumbled walls on the outlook of the mountain, spying an abnormal creature rooting around in the underbrush. Some manner of imp, Marie guessed, with a body like that of a rodent or dog, but bipedal, with hands and feet covered in fur, sporting long talons and a pig nosed face with long ears and two stubby horns. It let out an unsettling shriek when it spied the two of them, climbing up an adjacent wall with haste to confront the intruders.

“Hold fast, hag!” the beast called to Marie, “you are unwelcome!”

Petulant creature, Holt whispered to Marie’s mind, let us be rid of this foul thing.

Marie nodded, moving to banish the imp with profane words, but was stopped by an invisible force.

“Wait,” it commanded in a jesterly tone. A shadow crept up the walls and sat next to the beast. “Let us be more civil, yes? Is that any way to treat our guests, my pet?”

The creature lowered its head. “Forgive me, master. I meant no disrespect.”

“Pah,” the shadow scoffed, annoyedly adding, “return to your station at the foothills, filthy mutt. And do not open that hideous mouth of yours again, your voice sends me into a rage. Off with you!”

The impish creature hurried off, turning into a swarm of rats to more easily survey the surrounding areas.

“Forgive the impudence of my servant,” the shadow stood up, bowing to Marie and Holt, “to what do I owe this pleasure?”

”I am Gwyneth Owens,” Marie offered confidently, ”Master Leonard, I presume?”

The shadow laughed, “How quickly you offer your name! Is it brave or foolish? But you are correct, that is the name I most often employ. I have others, of course.”

”Azazel,” Holt replied.

“Yes, the old Scapegoat himself.”

The shadows departed, revealing a tall, smartly dressed man in a tidy red suit, whose collar and cuffs were reminiscent of medieval equivalents. His hands were more human than Puck’s, fingers instead of talons, but each digit still sprouted discolored claws. His face was much like Puck’s, handsome angular features, though he wore a full beard. His eyes were yellow like those of a cat or a serpent, and the whites of his eyes were red. Atop his head sat a pair of impressive curved horns, with a third protruding from his forehead.

“But please,” he continued, “Master Leonard will suffice.”

Marie marvelled at the sight of him. She’d only ever seen the woodcut images of Leonard, or the few depictions in excerpts of larger manuels of demonology. It never occurred to her that he would have taken so handsome a form, but then, so had Puck.

”Master Leonard,” she repeated with reverence, ”I am, or was, a witch under the employ of Robin Goodfellow, and have followed the light betwixt the horns of The Man in Black.”

“So this makes us familiars?” Leonard scoffed, “I care not for the wayward followers of my brothers. What business brings you here?”

Leonard’s mood was quick to change, Marie noticed, choosing her words carefully so as not to upset him further.

”I’m looking for a means to contact Herne the Hunter, or more specifically, The Wild Hunt. I know it passes through Germany, among other places.”

The demon let out a hearty laugh. “Am I my brother’s keeper?” he sarcastically remarked, still chuckling at the thought. “And what can The Hunter offer you that my other brothers couldn’t? What powers does he command that so interest you? You certainly don’t look the part of trapper or hunter.”

”I need access to Tir na nOg.” Marie curtly replied, ”The Wild Hunt passes over the blessed isles. I need Herne’s help to reach the island and locate Queen Mab.”

Holt nudged Marie, Caution, Marie. We know not how Master Leonard feels towards his mother, nor how he will ultimately use this information against you.

That piqued his interest.

Former Queen Mab,” Leonard corrected her, seating himself on the wall, leaning his back against a raised section of rubble. “She was rightfully dethroned, in one demon’s opinion. But our grievances aside, it seems I have the answers you seek. I have in my possession a certain horn used to call the trooping faeries, the ghostly processions, The Wild Hunt. But one question remains, why should I help you? Robin never gives something for nothing, nor do I. What can you offer that is worth my time?”

The catch. Marie knew she’d need to give something in return, she wasn’t a novice. But in all her planning, she failed to consider what might be of use to Master Leonard. His sphere of influence was not dissimilar to the Bucca and Puck. Each dealt in infernal compacts, the initiating of witches, the flight to the Sabbat, the issuing of familiars and gifts, but each was unique in their approach. Puck, forever scheming, granted such powers with the expectation that the outcome would either bring him wealth, fame (or infamy), and above all, entertainment. The Bucca was more enigmatic, but as the guardian of the threshold, the Witch-Father, Marie assumed it was a compulsion, a need to fan the flame, part avarice, part obligation. Leonard’s motives, however, were a mystery. Based only on obscure passages regarding his powers, and the earlier interaction with one of his servants, Marie guessed he was fond of dominating his subjects, lording over them, perhaps reveling in their suffering or trials.

With that revelation, Marie hatched a plan, albeit half formed.

”We are familiars, you and I,” she responded confidently, gauging his reactions as best she could. ”not because I have followed your brothers, but because we share blood. Former Queen Mab is your mother, a fact few know, but she is also my grandmother. We are kindred spirits, Master Leonard, and I suspect this connection can be of use to you.”

Leonard stood silent, left hand rubbing his bearded chin, contemplating. How was he to feel, Marie wondered, gifted with the knowledge that his estranged mother had cursed the world, by whatever means, with yet another bastard child.

Finally, Leonard spoke, his jovial demeanor fading, giving way to wickedness. “I see. So mother dearest has been up to her old tricks, scheming even now.” He jumped the gap between them, landing gracefully next to Marie, placing a hand on her shoulder, towering over her just as Puck and the Bucca had done several times before.

“We are familiars afterall, kindred spirits, flesh and blood . . . well, more so in your case, but relatives the same. You my niece, I your uncle, and Mab the same conniving bitch who lords over us all. Whatever will she do with you, I wonder? Or you with her as the case may be. Why seek Mab, darling niece, when all the bliss of her ancient court can be found among your brothers and sisters?”

Marie felt uneasy, Leonard’s touch colder than she might have expected, likely by design.

Master Leonard, sensing her disease, gripped tighter, motioning with his free hand to the center of the worn overlook where a toppled pillar once stood, faint markings decorating the sides, alchemical and astrological symbols, demonic sigils, signs of goety. All were set aflame at his command, conjuring wisps of another world, the blurred motion of a distant past.

Holt stood closer to Marie, feeling the air around her for signs of compulsion. He could sense something pulling at her mind, unable to identify it.

Marie watched as the figures danced around the central pillar, the past overlayed onto the present. The pillar was once a statue of Leonard, or perhaps it was his perch, transforming himself into stone that he might be adored. Around his effigy danced those in his service. They looked wild, happy, free, but Marie noticed a certain glaze over their eyes separate to the usual daze of ritual. What had they given in return?

“I haven’t the foresight of my dearest brother, Robin, but I know the minds of you witches, your doubts and fears, your deepest regrets.”

Leonard snapped and the images changed, molding into a scene she had nearly forgotten. She saw the demon, Broker, and all his infernal machinations deep beneath New York, the old rites she performed on his behalf, the moment her spirit awakened to the knowledge of itself.

“It seems we both have two names,” he whispered, cupping Marie’s head, facing it forward, ensuring she never looked away.

She didn’t fight him.

“I see why mother dearest has an interest in you. You are a strange creature indeed, Gwyneth Owens . . . or is it Marie?” he laughed, pulling her name from a memory to use against her. It was a novel tactic, one not employed by the Fair Folk, but Leonard had forgone any association with them centuries ago.

“Do you even know your own name, dear niece?”

”I . . . I-I am,” Marie struggled to speak, watching as the pieces of herself slowly came together, tearing away the life she’d built in ignorance. Was it blissful ignorance? To forget a life of hardship and betrayal, to build anew in a changing world, was her life as Marie so bad?

”I am Gwyneth Owens,” she replied confidently, ”but I am also Marie Heartford. I have led two lives, but I will see myself made whole.”

Leonard laughed, “Stubborn, I see. But we agree that you are broken, yes? And what has this crusade for restoration wrought? How many yet suffer while you march forward?”

The central images changed once more, presenting Benjamin, the wolves, the ones she left behind. She saw the destruction caused in the wake of Broker’s rites, the ruin she inflicted on some poor souls in El Paso, a poisoned Benjamin in Vegas.

“How they must haunt you, your most selfish acts, lies that to your ears sound as justification. Is this truly the legacy of the White Witch?”

Marie shook herself free of Leonard’s compulsion, swatting his hands away, taking a step back, careful not to step too far and fall from the crumbling wall.

”I am as much a white witch as you are an angel,” her words dripped with venom, ”I can live with my actions, they’ve all served a greater purpose.”

“You mean they have all served you, your purpose. I doubt any of the offended parties would agree that your presence helped them in any way.”

”But it helped me!” Marie shouted, surprising herself. ”It was all to help me, to regain my memories, to make me whole. Selfish? Absolutely! But that is the hallmark of us witches, right? Selfish and self serving, the lot. It is a game of self preservation and the rest of this world would agree.”

Marie could tell that Leonard was becoming frustrated, not because of her words, but because his influence was fading. This tactic of guilt tripping her with illusory images had failed once before. She had the Silver Sorceress to thank for that. But Leonard held power where the sorceress didn’t, cunning far beyond hers. He could taste the emotions coating Marie’s speech. It was enough to make a final attempt.

“So much pain,” he whispered, moving forward with his head down as if grieving. “I see it now. Not your actions nor those grievously wounded by them, but all you have lost on this foolish quest. So many years of torment, turned away by most trusted allies, left to wander, suffer; it has hardened your heart. You long only to avenge that which has been perpetually stifled by the mortal world and its agents of hate: a sense of belonging, completeness, safety.”

Marie was silent, motionless. She tried to combat him with anger or wit, but a familiar sensation took hold of her limbs. Master Leonard pulled from that place between this life and her last, the slivers of memory she’d labored to find. In it, spinning around the broken monolith, she saw the dwelling of her mentor, Nanny Owens, burnt, dishevelled, erased; the remnants of her agrarian dormitory turned to ash; the noble home of her London cohorts, destroyed; and slipping through the cracks of her mind, licking at her exposed skin, she saw - felt - the flames of her accusers, her final moments, dragged away from her cottage in Wales.

“There is so much fight in you, dear niece,” he took hold of her shoulder, bending his knees until they were eye level. “So much fire, but you needn’t possess my brother’s sight to know how this journey ends.”

Marie remained silent.

“Allow me, then, to ease the burden of this knowledge, to relieve you of this guilt, wounds from the past. Let me give you my mark, that you may be free of the toils of this life. Give up this charade, Marie. Leave Gwyneth behind, leave everything behind.”

Marie, Holt tried to breach her mind, but found himself shut out.

Marie looked pale, pitiful, drowned in sorrow. Leonard’s power took hold, inflicting her with a sickness, a manifestation of her troubled thoughts. Her only choices were to give in, or go mad.

Or so Leonard thought.

For in all her anguish, that vital spark he had so desperately tried to control, or else extinguish, yet remained, burning defiantly.

”It would be so easy to say yes,” Marie’s voice was hoarse, soft, and unsettled, but with each word came confidence, assuredness. The cadence of her speech changed, allowing hints of an accent to peek through. ”but I am not so easily won. There is no peace in your offer, only obedience and willful ignorance.”

“Insolent creature!” Leonard roared, holding tighter, claws threatening to break skin. “You . . .”
He stopped, sensing something he hadn’t before, a force he recognized.

He laughed, unhanding Marie and banishing his phantasms. In his hand appeared a horn, a rather simple looking instrument, inscribed with symbols and characters reminiscent of old Faerie dialects.

“Here,” his jesterly toned returned as he presented to the horn to Marie. “This will turn The Wild Hunt’s gaze to whomever sounds the call.”

Marie breathed deeply, taking a moment to recover from her ordeal. She reached out, accepting the horn. ”And you would just give this to me?”

“You bested me,” he shrugged, “passed my test, refused to give in. Thoroughly amusing. The horn is my payment to you, Gwyneth Owens. Go with my blessing, find mother dearest, and if you would, remind her how much we all loathe her. Bis bald.” He waved, body evaporating into shadows, creeping along the walls until it passed out of sight.

”No,” Marie whispered, running a hand over the horn, holding it some distance from her body to study the unfamiliar markings, ”this felt too easy. Why would he just hand this over?”

”It is as he said,” Holt took back his post atop Marie’s shoulder, exchanging looks between the faery horn and Marie, ”Master Leonard invaded your mind in an attempt to sway you to his side. You resisted, likely one of the few to do so. He was honor bound to provide a fitting reward, but you gave away more than you know.”

Marie shrugged, ”He can do what he wants with the information, I suspect it will make little difference soon enough.” She finally put the horn inside her bag, adjusting its contents to ensure nothing was too loose. Afterwards, she looked around, remembering the other item they’d been sent to procure.

”My Breath,” she sighed, ”I never asked him about the book from my vision. Leonard was the only clue, it must still be here.”

Holt dropped from her shoulder, shifting effortlessly into a wraith-like form. He moved where Marie could not, scanning the places between, looking for any trace of Gwyneth. Around the central monolith where Master Leonard’s phantasms havocked Marie’s thoughts, Holt felt something, a fragment of her essence left wandering in the places between. Propped just beneath the pillar, atop a stone altar unseen by mortal eyes, sat the book from Marie’s visions.
He made for the tome, attempting to snatch it up and return it to his mistress, but something held him at bay. Again he tried, and again, but each advance seemed to draw greater distance between he and his prize.

”I see it, just there,” Holt returned to Marie, pointing an ethereal claw toward the location of the book, ”but it is beyond my reach. Your magic must bind the book to this place. I suspect the touch of your magic will free it.”

Marie carefully dropped down from the wall, walking forward to the place Holt had described. She too could feel the pull of her spirit, but Leonard’s phantasms must have hidden the truth, or the book had disguised itself in defense. Either way, Marie held out both hands, calling to the memory in which the book appeared, breathing deeply, humming the tune she’d heard in her vision.

CRACK

A sound like thunder and sundered glass fell over the mountainside. The enchantment fell away.

Marie reached out to touch the book, bound in white, with gold and silver patterns snaking around the cover, encompassing the familiar dragon motif at the center. As her skin brushed cover, a warmth radiated from the artifact, collecting in her hands, traveling up her arms, pooling in her forehead. There came a jolt, a revelation, the clearest vision to date. She saw not a memory, but a distant image.

”Holt, come now. I think I know where the next piece is hidden.”

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Hidden 5 yrs ago Post by nitemare shape
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nitemare shape GM of Create A Hero and Star Wars: Legacies

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Despite the recent destruction caused by the Hounds, the people of Lost Haven were eager to move on, and what better way than to lose themselves to festivities. Summer was still going on strong, and at the Lost Haven mall they had several summer specials going on, perfect for a new swimsuit or anything summer related. With the Jones family eagerly taking advantage of the time and season. But that didn’t exactly fill David with excitement.

His daughter Maddison, along with his wife Cecily, had found another department store, and eagerly dived in looking at anything that caught their eye; while David himself sat just outside on one of the conveniently placed sofas, and keeping him company were several other ‘family’ men.

“I’m happy they’re happy, ya’know? Especially after all that meta stuff. But we all know they’re not gonna wear even half that!” Another man walked up to the circular formation and fell onto a chair, with his bags falling onto him or the floor in a ruffled mess.

“Tell me about it, ‘bought the kiddo a nice summer dress with her mom a while ago, and I’ve never seen her put it on again!” David yelled out too, feeling relieved.

“But we’re going to Hawaii after today, so maybe some of this will get some use soon.” He gestured to the bags resting in between his feet.

“Ohh, that’s nice, I heard they’ve got this new beach show that’s gonna-” One of the other men started but was interrupted by several screams and shouts coming from the Marcy’s just next to them.

“Uh oh.” David muttered, with the other’s saying something similar. It took only a moment for the rest of them to start running inside, bored sons and father’s quickly sprinted into the store, while David started moving away.

“I’ll call the cops!” He shouted to nobody in particular.

Scott and Alexa sat in the food court of the new Lost Haven Mall. They found themselves on the far end of the food court, next to the large windows which overlooked waterfront. The new mall was nice, and it was a good way for Scott and Alexa to spend some quality time together, since between her time as the head of the East Coast division of Winstone Industries, and his time split between helping to run the Hub, as well as his “extracurricular” activities as Icon didn’t leave them with much time together as of late.

“You know, I never figured that Shaggy would be the badass of the Scooby Gang.” Alexa teased as she slurped down her Thai noodles.

“You and me both.” Scott said with a chuckle.

“You know, when I was a kid I kind of had a crush on Shaggy. Though, naturally my dad would have preferred that I liked Fred.” She joked.

“Naturally.” Scott said. Truth be told, he didn’t care much for Alexa’s father, though, to be fair, Jonathan Winstone had made it perfectly clear that he did not approve of Scott’s relationship with Alexa, in fact, he hadn’t spoken to her since they had gotten engaged. However, Scott was determined not to let that ruin their day.

“So…” Scott began, before stopping mid word, as if something had caught his attention.

“What is it?” Alexa asked, suddenly concerned.

“I’m not sure, but there’s a commotion on the other end of the mall. I better go check it out.” Scott told her.

“I’ll come along.” Alexa said.

“I don’t think it’s necessary. I’ll go check it out and I’ll come right back.” Scott told her. “Enjoy your lunch, I’ll be right back, and if I do need your help, all call you.” Scott said as he got up from his seat and began to make his way down to the other end of the mall.

The store was big, but in between shouting and running, it wasn’t hard to find the source of the problem. It didn’t really seem like this called for his kind of muscle, so David leaned behind a clothes rack and watched. A pudgy man holding several purses and random products had already been surrounded by a group of angry men and women.

One of them moved to grab the thief’s arm, only for his hand to swipe right through, and an arm fell onto the ground. This was met by screams from everyone, including David, as the thief deftly caught the tossed merchandise with his other arm and quickly barreled through the crowd.

With both arms?

‘Now, this is a job, for me. Probably’ David thought as he walked out from behind the rack, and stopped the man with his palm stretched out.

“This isn’t your day, just give up the merch and-” David stuttered for a moment as he recognized one of the purses, and in his hesitation the blew right past him.

“Wait a minute you!” David shouted as he threw both his arms, in a half-baked attempt to get around what he saw earlier, only to be just as shocked. The man had tossed the stolen items into the air, and swallowed them. Leaving behind another pair of arms on the floor.

As Scott approached the source of the commotion, several people ran past him coming from the opposite direction. He picked up his pace as the panicked shrieks grew louder. He was about to press the nano activation button on his bracelet to change into his superhero identity, however, being in the mall presented a certain problem: security cameras. The mall had dozens of cameras all over the place, and changing into his uniform here could potentially compromise his identity. However, as he moved closer to the disturbance, a solution presented itself. Just up ahead, there was an archway which served as sort of an overpass. Not only did it not have any cameras of its own, but it served as a natural blind spot for the other cameras in the area. So, as Scott reached the archway, he pressed the activation switch on his bracelet and almost instantly, the nanites in the bracelet covered his body in the instantly recognizable uniform of the masked hero, Icon. After making his way out of the archway, Icon lifted several feet off the ground and flew toward the center of the disturbance.

When he arrived at the Marcy’s Department Store, he saw a number of shoppers trying to take down what he could only assume was a shoplifter, trying to make his way out of the store with a large quantity of merchandise. However, to his surprise, the strange bandit was tossing the goods into the air and swallowing it. If it hadn’t been for a certain overpowered animated stoner that he had thrown down with just a day prior, this would have been the most bizzare thing that he’d ever seen. Icon hovered over to the entrance of the store and touched down on the ground.

“That’s enough.” Icon said to the strange thief. “You’re done, come quietly before you get yourself into any more trouble.”

With the sudden appearance of two heroes, both of which he seemed to recognize, as a new panicked expression coated his face. The man tucked both of his freshly grown arms tightly on his chest, along with his legs, and dropped onto the floor. Bouncing forward towards Icon, then back into Terra Firma’s faceplate, and through the overhanging sign at the front of the store, making his escape outside.

David, having barely recovered from seeing the man’s arms fall off, had been caught by surprise and was given a good toss back into a rotating clothes rack; breaking it, along with sending an avalanche of clothes falling down onto him.

‘Damn, he got me, and in front of Icon too.’’ David shamefully thought to himself as he quickly tried to brush himself off.

Icon watched as the thief sent Terra Firma crashing into a clothes rack, sending the merchandise cascading over him. Icon moved in to grab the still bouncing thief, however, much to his surprise, there was something different about the man. He felt strange, almost gelatinous to the touch. The man’s strange texture took Icon by surprise, which caused him to let go of the man, if only for an instant. However, that one instant was all the crook needed, as his body began to twist and change. The strange man suddenly hunched over, and an arm seemed to force its way out of the man’s back. However, it was more than just yet another arm. A second man, identical to the first, emerged from the crook.

“Well, that’s disgusting.” Icon said to himself as even more copies formed from the original thief.

David had only just removed a clingy sweater when the second man had appeared.

”Two of them? Now this is getting out of hand.” David said as he sprinted after them. In just a few strides he had chased them to the front exit, only to stop right in his tracks. The people in the mall were all over the place, running and overall just trying to avoid the men. The men, that were all exact duplicates of each other, and all of the clones were running out of different stores; some were even pushing carts along.

“Icon, you ever see anything like this? There’s way too many of them to catch like this.”

“No, not quite like this. But sadly, this isn’t even the weirdest thing I’ve seen this week.” Icon told Terra Firma as he watched half a dozen identical men scatter from the store. “We need to try and coralle them. We can’t let them get out of the mall.”

“Right.” He muttered.

“But where?” As David searched his thoughts he remembered that they were closer to the west and south exits, and that he had parked the SUV on the west side.

“South exit, let’s see if we can group them up there, less people. Then I can trap them in one place.”

“That sounds like a plan.” Icon said as he darted off in the direction of the fleeing clones.

As he reached the first of the clones, Icon reached out and grabbed him by the scruff of the neck, and hurled him toward the south exit before the clone could react. He then went after the other clones nearby, grabbing them two at a time and bringing them back to the southern exit. Then, without missing a beat, he bound the clones together with the velvet rope of the nearby crowd control barriers, leaving this batch of clones contained, he then raced off to assist Terra Firma with the remaining clones.

David for his part moved towards the other end of the mall to catch the men who were trying to avoid Icon. He tried to grab one by the back of their jacket but missed when he suddenly dipped and rolled into two more.

Deciding he was done with this game of keep away David flung his arm towards them, zapping one of them in the rear with a small jolt of lightning, drawing a quick yelp from the other man, and helped to hasten their pace. David did this several more times, sometimes at the ground with a stronger bolt, and herded them towards the southern exit. It struck David as odd, though, that they never tried to converse with each other, or otherwise plan for this.

Moments after Icon had left the clones bound at the southern exit, he came across several more of the clones as they were passing through a crowd of bystanders who were running in a panic, doing whatever they could in order to get out of the fray. Icon flew just above the crowd, plucking the clones out one by one and depositing them in a heap back near the south exit with the others.

The southern exit led out into a parking lot, that may or may not have been as empty as David had implied; with several cars still parked around, along with their owners dodging David fearfully, or rushing towards their cars.

“Everyone, get out of the lot!” He called out to the civilians as knelt onto the ground and tried to shake up the areas where the thieves were before finishing them off, trying to bid some time for the people to clear out. Some of them fell, even toppling over one another sometimes, but suddenly they all looked at him.

“That’s it, I’m at my limit!” The men shouted at him. One of the nearest doubles moved to punch him, and David tried to counter by grabbing his arm firmly. Except when he tried to grab them the arm curved around his hand, and clocked him in the jaw. A surprised David reflexively tried to jab the man in the chest, only to find his fist going right through. This put a pause on his brain, taking advantage of this, the man shifted his left arm into a giant mallet and slammed it into David’s side, throwing him into a Toyota Camry.

With the numerous clones now accounted for and detained, Icon turned his attention to who he assumed was the original thief who had surprised Terra Firma with a bit of a shape shifting, and had taken the hero off of his feet.

With Icon’s attention turned elsewhere, the restrained clones began struggling to free themselves from their bindings. They tried contorting their bodies, they stretched and pulled, working in concert in order to get loose. However, nothing they did loosened the rope that bound them. After several moments, almost as if resigned to their fate, the clones stopped struggling. Then, something began to happen.

The clones began to lose their consistency. It was almost as if they were melting away where they sat. They no longer struggled, they simply began to dissolve, reverting to a pinkish gelatinous sludge. It wasn’t just the clones that were bound by the velvet security rope, but the other clones that Icon had deposited nearby, who lay unconscious on the floor. Another moment passed, and the individual “puddles” of pink goo seemingly came to life, moving toward one another and combining their mass until there were no more individual puddles, but one single mass of jiggling ooze, which then began to move toward the exit, toward the original thief.

Panicked mall goers shrieked as the slithering ooze made its way out the door and into the parking lot. The sudden commotion got Icon’s attention, causing him to look in the direction of screams.

“Well, that’s disgusting.” Icon said as he saw the slimy pinkish mass moving slowly away from the mall.

As the mass of slime got closer to the shape shifting thief, it began to accelerate toward him, not stopping until it had reached the man, where at first it seemed that it would cover him. However, rather than coating the man in the pinkish goo, it merged with him, causing him to grow rapidly in both height and girth. Now standing at over seven and a half feet tall, the grotesque being turned to regard Icon, seemingly with a newfound confidence.

With the newly formed monster focused on Icon, Terra Firma had gotten back to his feet and was determined to put it down before anyone was hurt. He advanced on the figure, striking at it with a punch that would put down most foes, however, he failed to make contact. Just as the punch was about to land, the creature’s body separated, causing Terra Firma’s fist to pass harmlessly through it, and then reformed once the attack was no longer a threat. Terra Firma threw several more punches, however, each attack met the same results.

”H-he’s fast.” David stammered out as he struggled to land even a single punch.

Icon heard Terra Firma’s words and nodded in acknowledgement. Then, he took a step toward the creature that stood before them, lifting himself several feet off of the ground, and flew toward it. However, instead of attempting to make an impact with the creature, he began flying in circles around the monster. He peppered the creature with punches as he flew around it in a clockwise rotation, and then, he quickly shifted and reversed his track, moving counterclockwise while still punching the creature just hard enough to stun it. Several moments later, with the creature staggering, barely able to stand, Icon touched down on the ground as he and Terra Firma prepared to end the assault for good.

David nodded as he stepped forward to the misshapen monster, then took a quick accounting of his powers, and a thought occurred to him. He could put out heat, why not the reverse? Looking up and down the villain, David quickly jabbed his hand in, with some visible disgust as the ‘goop’ stretched and contracted from the energy of Icon’s blows. He channeled heat only for a moment like exhaling, then ‘inhaled’, sharply drawing in nearby heat.

The villain recovered from its stunned state just long enough to realize its lower body had been dried over and frozen almost instantaneously, it tried to stretch the rest of its body away, but as it stretched out it reduced its mass and temperature allowing David’s heat reversal to travel faster, and finally ending this; leaving a giant icicle in one end of the parking lot, that thinly stretched towards the street.

David waited a moment to observe his handiwork, and to make sure the deed was done, before popping his hand out with a soft snap. Small shards of ice followed his arm out, but the villain managed to stay in mostly one piece.

”Well. I suppose that’s our, uh, Goopman on ice.”

“Oddly enough, not the strangest thing I’ve seen this week.” Icon told Terra Firma as he shifted his eyes from the frozen “Goopman” to the other hero. “You did good work here today.” Icon said casually.

“Listen, I’m actually glad I ran into you. You were a big help with the whole Hounds fiasco, and again here today. I’m sure you noticed that things are getting worse out there, and we need to be better prepared for the next Hounds of Humanity. Which is why we’ve decided to put together a team. We could definitely use someone with your skill set, if you’re interested.” Icon said to Terra Firma as a crowd of people began to approach the scene now that the threat had been neutralized.

”And here I thought it was just me. It really does seem like the world is getting busier, and in all the wrong ways. Sure thing, it’ll be good to have an organized effort the next time we have an Hounds attack. Hopefully, there won’t be another one.”

Icon nodded in agreement, then his face became slightly sullen.

“If I’ve learned anything, it’s that there is always another one. If it’s not the Hounds of Humanity, it’ll be someone...or something else. But next time, we’ll be prepared.”

”Then that something will have to deal with the likes of Terra Firma and Icon. They don’t stand a chance.” David said as he extended his hand.

Icon took Terra Firma’s outstretched and gave him an earnest handshake. After releasing the other hero’s hand, he pressed a button on his belt, and the chevron shaped buckle opened. Icon took a small device from the hidden compartment and handed it to Terra Firma.

“This is a communication device that Iron Knight cooked up. If we need to reach you, or vice versa, this thing can reach us anywhere on Earth, or in the outer orbit...so far.” Icon told him. “Welcome to The Guardians.” Icon said before the both of them took off, disappearing into the skies.
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