[@BunniesOfDoom]

[color=f26522][b][h2][center] Abigail “Abby” Blavatsky [/center] [/h2][/b][/color]

A blonde-haired woman opened her eyes, feeling a strong sense of anxiety fill every part of her body.  The dream she had was quite terrifying. In her dream, she was back at the lab being strapped to a table. The doctors hovering above her, but they didn’t look human. Most of them had large bulging eyes with a foul smell. And that damn cat was there watching them experiment on Abby. But there was a flash of light, and a woman wearing a white robe came over her. Or so she thought was a woman, judging by her voice. She said something that seemed to calm her down. However, she couldn’t see the woman’s face since she wore a mask. Then she woke up from her dream. 

Slowly stumbling out of bed and to the bathroom. Looking through her medicine cabinet for her anxiety pills. She took two pills and swallowed them with some water. Feeling some relief, but decided she’d take the pill bottle in case the anxiety came back.  Getting dressed while listening to the news. It was something mindless to listen to while she got ready. But there was a piece of news that caught her attention. A few days ago, a scientist named Walter Heisenberg died.  The cause of death was ruled as a suicide. Hearing this made Abby smile cheek to cheek. 

Finishing getting ready, she was almost out the door before forgetting something. Quickly rushing to her bedroom drawer to grab a pill box. Locking her apartment and heading to the parking lot. It took about forty or so minutes to get to her workplace. And during that time, she listened to music to help calm herself down.  She parked her car and entered the building via the elevators. She had been a journalist for The Daily Trumpet for a couple of months. It was good because she could help expose her suffering and used this position to right other wrongs. 

As the elevators opened, she was so deep in thought that she didn’t notice someone was talking to her.  “Ah, good morning, Erika.” The voice belonged to Timmy O’Connor, a photographer, and her partner. And she almost forgot that she was using a fake name. 

[color=f26522]“Good morning Tim.”[/color] She said, walking out of the elevator and heading to her desk. Tim was following her like a lost puppy. It was a little annoying, but sometimes it could be adorable. 

“Before I forget, P.J. wants to talk to you about something he wants you to cover.” Tim was standing by Abby’s desk while she was sitting down. He was referring to their boss, Perry John Jameson. But most people just called him P.J.

[color=f26522]“Thanks, Tim, I’ll go to his office after I respond to some emails.”[/color] Abby said, starting up her computer. But looking from her left, she could still see Timmy standing by her desk. [color=f26522]“Do you need anything else Tim?”[/color] Saying this made Tim start looking quite nervous. 

“Yeah, I was actually wondering if you’d like to get a couple of drinks with me.” Tim said after what seemed like a long, drawn out silence. 


[color=f26522]“Mmm, no sorry.”[/color] She said, blunting before returning to her computer. She knew Tim had a crush on her, but she didn’t reciprocate his feelings. Tim shambled back to his desk feeling dejected.  A few hours later, she was inside P.J.’s office listening to him talk. Something that irritated Abby greatly. 

“[b]Abby, I've got something I want you to cover. There’s some commotion at a local concert, and I want you to cover it.[/b]” P.J. told Abby some details of what he had heard and where the concert was located. 

[color=f26522]“Alright, I’ll go over there and cover as much of the story as possible.”[/color] She thought this incident at the concert was because the artist was causing a ruckus. So it wouldn’t be anything too important.

She grabbed her camera and notepad before leaving the building for the parking lot, avoiding Tim as she passed by his desk.  She got into her car and drove to the location. From the parking lot, she noticed the ensuing chaos. This was not going to be an easy assignment.  Quickly, she exited her car and started moving towards the deformed wall. Climbing over, so she was at the mouth of the wall. She pointed her camera and began taking pictures of the crowd and the lone person standing on the stage. 

But she was having trouble getting a good shot because of the intense emotions in the crowd.  Their violent thoughts were making it hard for her to concentrate. [color=f26522]“Darn it…” [/color] Abby could tell this was the work of a superhuman. She was afraid to get closer because of both the fighting and being overwhelmed by the crowd’s emotions.