[hr][center][url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8GW6sLrK40k]CURRENT DATE -- 24/05/2047, ~12 AM[/url][/center][hr] Right, he was Arbiter, not ET the alcoholic cop. “I’ve only ever worked private security, really. I’m just a guy in a supersuit, so I get a paycheck and shoot people as needed. Probably would have better served as riot control in Denver, y’know?” -- [color=lightblue]”I’ve never been to Denver. Was busy across the pond, back home. I heard about it though, was on the news for weeks back when it happened.”[/color] Alex stared out the window of Arbiter's super car, seated comfortably (thankfully the car's front passenger seat was just big enough for him) as they went on the five hour drive to Denver, Colorado. The last few hours had been a blur; the team had separated at Albuquerque, his sister had gone back to their hotel to return to Cedar Fort while he had followed Arbiter directly from New Mexico. He still smelled faintly of burnt fabric and gunpowder, but he was otherwise okay. -- “The media does love covering a supervillain,” said Maysah, and then muttered, “except for when it’s one of their advertisers.” She flicked her eyes back to Arbiter. The world was lousy with guys in supersuits who shot people for money. They usually deserved to have a bullet put in them more than the person they were hired to pacify. “So if you’re so small-time Arbiter then how did someone like you ever catch Hex’s attention?” -- “Hex was pretty flexible about who merited his attention,” Arbiter said. That had been in the file. “And not just anyone can pilot Gabbie. You need peak physical and mental condition, and a general instinct that a lot of folk just don’t have.” He stifled a laugh: him, peak condition? Riotous. “We worked together, one time: told me to keep in touch.” “What about y’all?” He asked, not-so-subtly redirecting. “How did you know him?” -- [color=lightblue]”We met him at some superhero school graduation thing. April Springs, Utah. 2035. Academy of Virtue.”[/color] Touchy subject. Alex rubbed the side of his face and sighed, his memories going back to that fateful day several years ago. When his parents died defending the young superheroes there. [color=lightblue]”He uh...helped save a bunch of new capes at that Academy, when extremists attacked the school.”[/color] -- Oops. ET had known that, but Arbiter hadn’t: the file on the Tower had mentioned a past catastrophe. “Sorry to hear that, man.” He sent Dave a mental signal, and the seat he was in spun around to face the other two in the car. “He was one of the good ones.” -- “He was a drug addict and a busybody who created nearly as many problems as he fixed,” said Maysah, glaring Arbiter down. “He stopped me from doing something stupid. Sometimes I wonder if it was really the right thing, but I knew he did it with the right intentions.” “I guess what I’m trying to say is he did more good than harm. Makes him better than most, doesn’t it?” she continued, turning to Alex. Her face tightened. Hex had invited her to April Springs, which she denied going—too commercial for her tastes. She could’ve helped him stop it sooner. She felt like apologizing to Alex, but for what? The past couldn’t be changed. It’d just be empty words. “When did you work together, exactly?” asked Maysah, giving Arbiter a raised eyebrow. -- Arbiter narrowed his eyes ever-so-slightly. So many questions. This was dangerous territory: she knew the dead hero a hell of a lot better than ET did. He’d have to be evasive, yet truthful. Within the last twelve years, nobody had worked with Hex: the last decade, after all, had been one of superhero corporatization and nationalization. Small-group acts like Hex, Stardust, the Tower and his sister? Less than popular. “Man,” Arbiter put a hand to his face, more to hide any potential tells than out of a need. “That must have been….what, fourteen years ago? Maybe more?” Total lie. He’d only had his powers for eight years. “I was just starting out as an operator, but the corp was having a hell of a time with some small-town gangsters in one of the city blocks. Small-town gangsters led by one mean motherfucker of a super. Hex was tracking them too, and saved me from walking right into a trap they’d set.” When had he gotten so good at making up total bullshit? Arbiter let the hand drop from his face, comfortable now. “He let me take most of the credit for the bust: it really kickstarted my career. Honestly, I’m not sure it was ever officially recorded as him being there.” Okay, that was enough of that. “Any more prying questions about my relationship to a dead man who saved my life?” He snorted in real irritation, and continued quickly: “Look, I get that you don’t trust me or my motives. It sucks, ‘cause we really, really don’t have the time to argue about it right now. We’re going to get to Denver in a little while, and we’ll have to be awake to do some groundwork. I’m going to sleep for a little while now, and I suggest you do the same. If, [i]if[/i] we live through the next week, then we can talk about this shit, okay?” He turned in his seat and closed his eyes, resolving himself to silence for the rest of the trip.