Today was a great day!

A typical Spring morning in Lafayette City. A little chilly, but overall the weather was quite nice! The birds were chirping, the sun was shining, and several new heroes were starting their first day of work at the League of Good. The world’s premier crimefighting organization has prepared for bringing these people in; all of the standard equipment for heroes has been prepared for each new member of the organization, who are all waiting in the office lobby for whatever happens next.

And it’s a nice space too! Comfortable plush sofas, free beverages on hand and big glass picture windows give a great view of the building’s surroundings; scenic downtown Lafayette City. Curious too, because from the outside nothing can be seen through the glass at all. More curious, however, are your fellow heroes. You knew that you wouldn’t be alone on the first day - HR said as much - but the variety was perhaps more than you expected. Even at a glance, you can tell this is an extensive array of powers.

Suddenly, the receptionist ran up to you all. She apologized in advance and delivered some shocking news: some kind of beast has attacked the city, the League is shorthanded and you are all needed to fight it. Onboarding will have to wait, transportation has been arranged to the site, and you will be going there right now. And before anyone could react or even get up, what appeared to be some kind of homeless man instantly popped into the lobby, teleported everyone to a new place, and left without even saying a word.

This new environment is much less visually appealing. They were clearly in an old industrial part of town, mainly consisting of vacant lots and deteriorating buildings. More specifically, they were at the site of an old factory, recently reduced to a big pile of rubble and ashes. The source? An honest to God serpentine dragon, the size of a semi truck. Green scales, red wings, sharp white teeth and plenty of attitude. Oddly, there was a man who seemed to be recording all of this on his phone, dressed up in a black beret, with a matching pair of pants and a cloth mask covering his eyes, along with a white t-shirt.

The guy looked a bit startled when the heroes popped in. “Huh. I guess the company sent you out here? Well, that was nice of them,” he said with a smile. Still recording as he spoke, the man continued. “You’re here to fight the dragon, then?” And as if responding to the question, the mythical creature let out a mighty roar and flew straight toward the heroes!

Maybe not so great of a day after all, but at least it would be interesting!

Julian Mercer aka Spotlight, burst into the lobby with phone in hand, livestreaming for his fans. “Gooood morning Spotlighters! Guess who’s officially joining the League of Good today?” He pans the phone briefly to show the sleek, high-tech lobby with sunlight through the windows, plush couches, and League emblems on the walls. “Look at this place! It’s giving ‘government funding but make it fabulous.’”

Julian took a complimentary latte, sat on the couch, still streaming. “It’s a big day today. I haven’t met the rest of the team yet. But here’s hoping theres someone I can bond with. Even better if that someone is a hot guy, besides me of course.” He winked to the camera.

Just then, the receptionist began rushing over. Urgency written all over her face. Julian blinked. “Oh. Hold up. Either I’m in trouble, or drama is about to unfold.”

He turned the phone back to his face, lowering his sunglasses dramatically.

“Spotlighters… stay tuned. I think something’s about to happen.” Then he stopped the livestream.

Julian blinked at what the receptionist said. His latte halfway to his mouth. “I’m sorry…‘incident’? As in emergency? As in… unscheduled danger?”

Before he had time to react to anything the receptionist was saying, he was teleported away to somewhere completely different to the chic lobby he was just in.

Julian landed with a clumsy stumble. His hair ruffled in the sudden gust of heat from the dragon’s wings as it roared overhead. “Okay. So this is happening. No warm up. No safety briefing. Just…rawr?” He shrugged his shoulders.

And then there was the guy. The one with the beret. The phone. The whole indie film director look. Julian was glad this was being recorded at least.

With a flick of his wrist, a hard light shield formed in front of him. He turned to the rest of the team. “Hi! I’m Spotlight! You may recognize me from five seconds ago when I was livestreaming. Let’s not die, hm?”

He raised his hand again, and a hard light spear formed in the air. “Hey, scales-for-brains!” He called. “Wanna be internet famous? Smile for the camera!” He winked at the dragon. Then he threw.

@Zapdos

Morgan Le Fay

Maggie was seated in the lobby, nervously running her fingers over her grimoire, which was placed on her lap. The book was covered in brown leather; anyone with a keen eye would see it was not normal. She would look quite out of place in the clothes she was wearing. To everyone around her, it looked like she was cosplaying as a 19th-century widower. From behind the veil, she was watching everyone who was walking past her. Not minding the strange looks she was getting.

Her eyes scanned the lobby for the other heroes, seated or standing. The first thought was: what abilities do the other heroes have? She didn’t have any conversation with the other heroes. She preoccupied herself by tapping her thin fingers on the cover of her grimoire. Occasionally, she would look out at the skyline and feel an eerie sense that she was being watched. She didn’t know how many were watching, but she felt thousands were watching her constantly.

She almost jumped out of her seat as the receptionist spoke to them. She was even more shocked by the sudden teleportation. Maggie took in her new surroundings and was not impressed, to say the least. She had been sitting, so after they were teleported, she landed hard on the ground. Slowly, she got back onto her feet and wiped off the dirt from her dress. After doing this, she picked up her grimoire.

Her eyes looked over at the man speaking. Surprisingly, their first task was to beat a dragon. There was a moment of silence before she spoke. “Killing a dragon is a pretty tall ordah. They are ancient and powerful creatures. We would need some heavy-duty magic to kill it.” Her voice was barely a whisper, with a heavy Boston accent. She herself knew she couldn’t beat one because she was a novice magic user at best. A part of her wished her grandfather were here; he’d probably know or would help with beating a dragon.

Her attention then turned to the dragon that was coming at them. Quickly, she opened her grimoire and flipped through some pages. After a bit, she found what she was looking for and spoke the incantation. The spell was spoken in a dead language centuries old. And as she finished speaking, bricks floated into the air and formed a huge wall. Mostly to try to protect the other heroes.

Madison parked her motorbike in the League of Good office staff car park, and unhooked the tail bag from the back. She left the saddlebags where they were assuming that nobody would try to steal from the League of Good car park. The three bags contained all of her wordly possessions, and the saddlebags were just her clothes. Madison's gym and training outfits were company property and she rarely had occasion to wear civilian clothes so she owned less than three outfits. She was wearing her costume underneath baggy sweat pants and an oversized hoody. It was an old habit of hers to be ready to suit up at a moment's notice.

Madison entered the office and took a seat in the lobby. It's a lot more plush and customer-facing than her old workplace. There were other people sat waiting in the foyer. All of them were in casual clothes with the exception of one girl who looked like she was already in full costume as some kind of Victorian funeral witch. Madison nodded to the girl. It wasn't a bad idea to make sure any prep they needed to do was done now. Madison opened her tail bag which contained an emergency change of clothes, her phone, her headphones, her satchel, her domino mask, one makeup bag and a curling iron.

She had applied blush and lipstick and was halfway curling her hair when Julian Mercer, of all people, walked through the doors, loudly talking to his phone as if he was livestreaming. What was he doing here? Madison didn't feel comfortable being shown on camera when she was only half-ready so turned away until he had passed her. She quickly finished curling her hair before letting her curling iron rest and cool on the floor beside the outlet. She packed away her makeup bag and wasabout to fish out her headphones when a receptionist ran out into the center of the lobby.

Onboarding would have to wait because there was an emergency situation. Madison was not unused to situtions such as this and was calmly putting on her domino mask before the receptionist had finished speaking. Right when she was wondering which vehicle would be used to transport the team to site, a scruffy looking man entered and the next thing Madison knew, she was inside a different building. Or, what was left of a different building. There was a dragon, apparently. Julian threw a spear of light. The Victorian widow girl had created a wall for cover. Madison wordlessly and professionally kicked into gear. She took cover behind the wall and began stripping. She discarded her pants and hoodu to reveal that she had been wearing her black and silver costume underneath. She then climbed to the top of the wall.

Wireframe stood tall with a wide, slightly manic smile across her face. She raised one fist towards the dragon, aiming at one of its wings. Her other hand rested upon her wrist's propulsion device, ready to fire. She waited for it to get just a little bit closer. She seemed to feel absolutely no fear.

---

Paperwork was a task few enjoyed but her. Catherine, dressed in a casual yet professional business outfit, worked away at a computer in silence. See, while the Lafayette branch of the League Of Good functioned it had a stark lack of good office workers to handle the minutia.

One of the reasons why Catherine was chosen to attend this branch. A hero of decent power and capabilities, but more importantly someone who knows how to draft emails and use spreadsheets. A week of online work and a short day in office and Catherine had already cleared out a substantial backlog of documents and started to reorganize others.

How unfortunate that such things must be stalled for a meeting, on boarding of her and whomever else shows up as official heroes. Someone higher up wanted it to be a surprise of some kind, so she unfortunately was not able to skim their files.

Work kept her longer than she would have liked for a meeting, leading to her being late. Late enough to step though one door…and out onto an industrial district surrounded by colorful people and distant roars.

Catherine blinks once, then twice.

Why does this feel like a poorly laid out joke? A witch, a streamer and a person who is way too wired walk up to a dragon.

She takes a deep breath, taking off her glasses and exhaling fire.

Lucky for them they have one on their side as well. She steps past the wall as vambraces form, past the woman of wires as greaves melt on, and past the vibrant man as a chest piece is placed upon her breast and a guandao in her hands. A twirled is given of the weapon before it is held before her, taunting the bestial thing that towers over them all.

Alaine was early. The receptionist had her sign in then told her she could wait in the lobby, so that was what she did -- of course, she picked the farthest corner of said lobby. Back in a corner without windows, next to some kind of big, potted plant that added a touch of nature to the otherwise sleek, modern interior or the building.

Wearing a black jacket that matched the theme of her uniform, at first glance it might've looked like she was in a jacket and some kind of weirdly-patterned leggings, but a second glance would probably make it obvious she was already suited up. She wasn't sure how they were supposed to show up for this on onboarding thing, nor if they were supposed to be unmasked or not; she knew some heroes showed their faces, but she wasn't one of them. Even before John had gotten her the suit, she'd kept at least part of her face covered. Would she be expected to unmask around hee coworkers?

For a while she just watched people come and go; heroes mostly, some she'd heard of and some she hadn't... A few un-costumed employees, who she assumed were civilians who worked in the apartments that didn't need superpowers. Like records or dispatch... Though being able to work in those departments was a kind of superpower on its own, in her opinion.

Leaning back against the wall in her white and black uniform, mask already on and arms crossed, she half-wished she was going to work in one of those behind-the-scenes positions. She wasn't entirely sure she deserved to be on the frontlines, as if she was some pristine hero -- what if she messed up? She felt fairly certain her coworkers would be hardy enough not to be severely injured by her, but what about civilians? What if she went to pick someone up off a burning building and her adrenaline was too high and she wasn't focused enough and she accidentally gutted them instead?

Alaine shifted a little where she leaned back against the wall, too uncomfortable in her unfamiliar surroundings to take a seat. Instead of letting the uncertainty overwhelm her, she focused on the ever-present, study hum of cosmic energy in her body. Steady, even, otherworldly. Alaine closed her eyes briefly. Breathe in, breathe out...

The sound of someone else entering the building brought her attention back to the room and she opened her eyes again, straightening slightly and remaining leaned against the wall in the corner, hopefully not gaining much attention. An easy enough goal when the first new onboarding employee to take a seat looked like a Victorian witch. Alaine wondered if the book -- that she'd bet twenty bucks was a grimoire-type situation -- was a necessary part of the girl's ensemble.

More eventually came. Another girl, this one wearing a more normal-looking hoodie and sweatpants; she carried a few bags with her and soon began the process of applying makeup and curling her hair while they all waited. Alaine found that an odd time for it, but what did she know?

Then there was the flashy one, livestreaming with his phone. Alaine grimaced inwardly, careful to keep out of the view or at least turn her head away whenever the phone's camera threatened to catch her. He didn't plan to stream the onboarding process, did he? That couldn't be entertaining content... Though he was narrating to whoever was watching like it was.

She took another deep breath and let it out again, refocusing on that cosmic energy as heroes continued to arrive and current employees continued to come and go. She could minutely feel them all, even when she had her eyes closed. There was a little of that mysterious energy in everything, everywhere, everyone. Like cosmic dust.

Her eyes snapped open when the receptionist ran over. Before Alaine had a chance to process what was being said, there was suddenly a bedraggled-looking dude in the lobby -- and then the lobby was gone.

Her body reacted before her mind caught up with the situation so she was already hovering a few inches off the ground when she and her fellow new hires found themselves in another part of the city -- which spared her an awkward stumble like the livestreamer, or a case of disappearing-chair like the witch-girl.

The others jumped into action like professional heroes. The streamer -- she was sure she'd heard of him before, but she couldn't recall the name. Something-light. Searchlight? Sunlight? Sunlight or whoever he was made some quippy remark and suddenly had a shield and spear on hand, the latter of which he threw right at the dragon they were suddenly faced with.

That made Alaine's heart jump into her throat briefly, but she hardly had time to worry about it as the others started gearing up. The witch girl said something about a tall order -- no kidding -- then something about needing strong magic to kill the dragon.

Kill it? Why was killing the thing apparently everyone's first instinct? Clearly they were in an unoccupied, abandoned part of town. There were no civilians in immediate danger, and she could've been wrong but the dragon didn't seem like it was in a rush go eat anyone or anything since it was taking the time to demolish old factories.

Alaine hesitated as the brick wall formed, created by the Victorian girl; the one in a hoodie was ditching said hoodie and sweatpants to reveal she was also in uniform already before climbing to the top of the wall and looking... a little manic, and ready to shoot something from a contraption on her arm.

And -- wait, who the heck was that? A new woman was there, exhaling a puff of fire as she strode past then all towards the dragon, each step accompanied by the magical appearance of armor and weapons on her body.

And there was that guy over there, with the hat. Why was he there? Who was he?

Alaine inhaled sharply, a flicker of cool, starry light briefly sparkling around the white eyes of her mask. If nothing else, she could at least attempt to distract the dragon from the very random squad of heroes that had just appeared out of nowhere.

Pushing off the ground like she was jumping, Alaine failed to return to the ground and instead took off, zipping up into the air. Getting up on eye-level with the dragon, she wordlessly manifested her cosmic blades -- two small bursts of dark, crackling energy at her hands.

With a little mid-air twirl that made the flash of her blades more of a spectacle, Alaine attempted to catch the dragon's attention as she darted to the side. Hopefully, being in the same airspace as the monster would make her more of a priority to it, despite the fact people were throwing spears made of light at it.

"Hey, big guy! Over here!" She waved her arms, cutting in close and pulling away again. "What are you doing way out here? Let's leave the people alone, yeah?"

“No capes.” A tousled blonde ponytail swayed with a single firm shake of the head it adorned, a slender hand stilled it as though afraid it might betray excess emotion.

“No flashy symbol.” The voice droned evenly from the woman’s lips, static like an AI prompt being read aloud.

The tailor sighed, eyeing the tall young woman wearily, his old baggy eyes casting a quiet plea at the equally tall man behind her - who shook his bespectacled head bemused. “Sorry Art, told you she wouldn’t budge.”

The old man huffed, scraping calloused fingers along his baldening head to slick leftover white strands in a desperate attempt to remain composed. “Right, good thing I came prepared.”

He shoved the mannequin aside with more force than intended that echoed his frustration, the extravagant tightsuit adorning the plastic doll glinting in all its blue and white splendour under the brief exposure to stagelight before its wheels squeaked off into the shadowy corner. Glittery cape fluttering once apologetically.

“It’s too revealing. Ugly.” The young woman droned, brow quirked from behind square-rimmed glasses. Her body tensed and untensed as a warm hand pressed lovingly on her shoulder. The fabric bunched awkwardly, making her aware of the warmth radiating from the limb lingering there; Her father’s steady connection.

“Ann, hun, be nice. Can’t blame Art for trying.” The baritone rumbled with latent amusement. He knew his daughter was terribly specific and wouldn’t be caught wearing something akin to a stripper’s night out.

“I gave him details, padded outfit. Grey. Tinted glasses, plus two correction left, plus two point fifteen for the right. Space for holsters and backpack slightly angled ten degrees on my left shoulder.” Annika stood rigid, adjusting her glasses with pinpoint precision as her pale blue eyes glanced over Art who was dragging an outfit with the exact specifications she’d mailed to him one month ago. Her head dipped, a curt nod she allowed herself in thanks.

“This is preferred.” Her gratitude slipped out wrong, sideways as hands methodically inspected the outfit as if assessing a soldering in a motherboard. “Thank you, Art.” She stepped back, appreciative of the suit in the same way someone smiled at an unwanted Christmas gift.

Art rolled his eyes, but smiled anyway. He knew the girl for as long as he’d known her father, just never knew the correct response. “You’ll look the proper hero in this kid, took the liberty of sowing that small logo on the breast pocket. Although," He scratched his chin. “You’re the first superhero I’ve met who goes out of their way to not look conspicuous. You sure? The league thrives on public image, can’t promise people won’t recognize you.”

Annike laughed, breathily. Clipped like she caught herself early and crushed it. “I am aware, I will try to endure.” She nodded again, watching as Art prepared the suit, undressing the mannequin, folding the outfit and sliding it into an incognito bag.

Annika’s father hummed, smiling as she gave a gentle squeeze on his daughter’s shoulder as they left the underground tailor shop.

---

Annika had just finished cataloguing the seating arrangement.

Not for any social reason - simply noting sightlines, exit paths, reflective surfaces, the odd property of the glass that allowed vision in one direction only. The coffee machine hummed at an inconsistent frequency. She logged that too.

She’d dressed in her suit. Grey padded vest, equally muted slacks with pockets. Belts with holsters housing tech slung on waist and her torso. Backpack slung over her left shoulder that felt heavy with her companion drones buzzing on standby. She stood rigid in the middle of the waiting room, blue eyes - now tinted an off-green due to the tinted visor - scanned the other heroes. A flashy influencer who she never admitted to following, Spotlight. Her lips twitched in an admiring smile for half a second. She clocked the girl with the grimoire clasped to her chest. Interesting, occult magic wasn’t something you could see every day.

Then another girl who Annika connected to that brief rumble of a motorbike just outside. Not a typical biker-look, but appearances weren’t always what they seemed. Her eyes then darted to the woman slumped against the off-white wall. Already dressed in a black-and-white outfit, looking like she was about to vibrate through the building. It wasn’t overt, but subtle enough that Annika registered it. The twitch of a finger, the subtle tap of a foot.

The young woman sighed, folding hands into the open pockets she’d requested be added. Essential, a grounding gesture.

---

And then reality folded and warped…
There was no sensation of motion. No pressure change. One instant she was in a well-lit lobby with tasteful furniture, the next she was standing ankle-deep in soot and gravel, the air heavy with smoke and heat.

Annika did not stumble. She looked around instead.

Old industrial sector. Structural collapse, the rubble was still warm. Chemical residue in the air, unpleasant but non-lethal. She clocked the other heroes automatically, tagging them as assets, unknown parameters. The dragon registered last; large, airborne, serpentine, biologically implausible but very present. “Dragon,” she said aloud, more to anchor the word than to inform anyone.

Ike and Omar lifted out of her backpack on reflex, their housings unfolding as they powered up. Diagnostic lights blinked once. Green across the board. She noticed the man filming at the same time she noticed the dragon’s posture change.

“Recording civilian,” Annika said calmly, raising her voice just enough to be heard. “Recommend containment perimeter. Target is airborne, high mass, unknown breath weapon. Likely heat-based.”

The dragon roared. Annika’s shoulders tightened, not in fear, but in response to the sound pressure. She exhaled slowly and stepped half a pace back, positioning herself behind the nearest piece of intact cover without looking away from the threat. “Deploying recon,” she added, already moving.

Ike shot upward, arcing wide to gain altitude and visual coverage. Omar skimmed low over the rubble, grappling arm flexing as it latched briefly to a twisted beam and flung it aside to clear Annika’s line of sight. She didn’t look at the other heroes as she spoke again. “If you can ground it, do so. Wings appear vulnerable at the membrane. Avoid clustering.”

A beat.

“This is not an onboarding exercise,” Annika finished, tone flat. “Assume lethal force capability.”

The dragon surged forward. Annika planted her feet, tablet already in hand, eyes tracking vectors and movement patterns rather than teeth and fire.

Today had started out nice.

The man in the beret watched the scene unfolding before him with amusement. Some pretty boy named “Spotlight” - had he heard that name before? - had thought of a silly one-liner and proceeded to throw some kind of light spear at the dragon. And a girl out of the 1800s had created a wall of rubble to protect the team. Or that was his best guess. Probable, at the very least. Fighting people in costumes wasn’t the plan, but adaptability was always a strong suit. And so, with a twist of its serpentine body, the mythical creature simply contorted itself to let the blond’s attack bypass it. Now, for the blade and dragon girls who were…attemtping to taunt the beast? It seemed pointless and counterproductive, but who was he to judge? As if to reward the effort, the dragon attempted a singular sweep of its tail, attempting to swat the redhead. And for the wannabe Demon Hunter?

The dragon turned its head towards her and let loose a flamethrower.

Whether any of that hit or not, the beast was surprised to feel steel wire wrapped around a wing. From there, what the beret man guessed was some kind of acrobat would have some control over the creature’s flight. But not entirely. Now the dragon would pull itself upward, slower than usual, attempting to bring this girl up with it and more crucially, above the wall of rubble.

And when that was done, the dragon would send a huge blast of fire behind the improvised fortification, with Intel’s equipment getting a full view of it all.

Julian had congratulated himself in his head for the spear of light, and the dragon just dodged it like it was nothing. “Ok, rude!” He pouted.

His teammates started attacking the dragon… With varying degrees of success. It was obvious that teamwork was not their forte yet… The only hero in the group he recognized was Wireframe. She had been a hero while he was still a teenage celebrity being paraded around by his mother. She had latched onto the dragon, and it was trying to drag her around like a ragdoll.

“Okay, new plan,” he muttered, conjuring a dazzling orb of light in his palm. “That thing wants a show? I’ll give it something to stare at.”

He spun, flinging the orb high into the air, where it burst in a radiant flash. It would be temporarily blinding, and hard to ignore. If this worked, the dragon would have to divide its attention, and he was going to make it look at him. “Come on, big guy! You dodged the spear, but can you dodge the Spotlight?” He grinned.

@Azure Bubbles@Silver Carrot
Annika registered the actions of her fellow heroes with professional indifference; A slim hand gestured at her datapad in vague swipes and flicks to register data and the change in behaviour. The dragon was intently focused on wrangling off steel wire that had tied itself around the membrane.

“Try and maintain grip,” Annika offered the young woman, voice firmer. “Deploying assistance.” She typed a command into her datapad and watched Omar’s feed whirr to face the dragon as its laser activated in short, precise pulses. Not at the dragon itself, but across the steel wire around its wing; not enough to melt it off, but to heat it unevenly. To agitate connective tissue and constrict the dragon’s flight.

She wasn’t sure if the wire was connective, if it felt heat or pressure. “Tell me if you sense discomfort, I will stop.” The offer was mechanical, not concern. Not really.

Ike’s feed flared white as Spotlight’s orb detonated overhead, sensors auto-dimming as exposure values spiked. Annika’s fingers paused for a fraction of a second, then resumed, tagging the timestamp and cross-referencing it with the dragon’s prior tracking behavior.

“High-luminance distraction deployed,” she said calmly. “Monitoring response.”

Omar adjusted position without prompting, drifting laterally to keep the dragon’s head and wings within frame. Annika stepped two paces to her right, boots scraping against broken concrete as she re-established line of sight around the smoke.

Her gaze flicked between feeds. Annika raised her voice again, just enough to carry. “Spotlight,” she called, not looking at him. “If it turns toward you, maintain lateral movement. Do not hold position.”

She paused. “If it does not,” she added, “disengage immediately. You are not the priority target.”

Ike’s camera held steady, recording everything. Head orientation, wing alignment, tail positioning, data flowing in faster than Annika could consciously parse and still somehow stay orderly.

“This is useful,” she said, more to herself than anyone else.

“You,” Annika gestured vaguely to the wired woman, eyes still on the feed. “If it commits to the distraction, you may have a cleaner angle. Watch for tail compensation.”

She shifted her stance, angling away from the dragon’s attempt to fire over the manifested barricade. Shoulders tight but controlled, datapad anchored in both hands. “Don’t bunch up, spread your position. Divide attention.” Annika offered, reaching into a pocket and readying one of her electric trap charges; lobbing it around where the dragon could possibly perch its legs if it couldn’t maintain flight.

@Redking0380@Byte

---

Daniel opened the door to his home and walked in, immediately heading to the beaten-up couch and dropping his ass straight onto it. He slung his arm across his eyes, a long, exhausted sigh escaping his lungs. He had woken up early to do a job, and not only was he tired, he was starving. He reached over to grab a nearby cereal box and flipped it upside down, only to see a few grains and crumbs tumble onto his hand. As he set it back down, a familiar voice rang out in his mind: You have the potential for so much more, and I know you know that.

The Speed Demon, which Daniel affectionately nicknamed 'Speedy', was frustrated with Daniel's commitment with performing mundane tasks. Why do you insist on keeping up this charade of mundanity? With the abilities I gave you, this poverty-stricken household should be a thing of the past. You're running yourself ragged for next to nothing. Well, it wouldn't be fair, you know? If I do all the jobs, the others won't get any, Daniel responded in his mind. And besides, you know it will be a 'thing of the past' now. That new hero job's gonna do wonders for us. Speedy harrumphed and was going to make another rebuttal, but noticed that Daniel had fallen asleep on the couch. He would have to keep watching over Daniel, and hope the man lasts long enough for his own soul to sufficiently recuperate.

---

Daniel was awoken by a tap on the face. He blinked the blurriness out of his eyes and looked up to see his sister Sasha standing above him with a large plate full of toast and eggs. "Rise and shine, sleepyhead." Sasha said, a smirk on her face. "You're gonna be late." Daniel was puzzled at first, then realized that he was going to miss his first day at the League of Good. "Aw hell!" Daniel exclaimed, then proceeded to stuff his face with the contents of the plate. It was wiped clean in seconds, with Daniel sucking each of his fingers. "My compliments to the chef," Daniel said, patting his sister on the head. "Now, gotta run, bye!" With a blur, Daniel got his costume on in a second and was out the door, racing towards the building as fast as he could safely run.

He ran into the League of Good's lobby, yelling, "Safe!" He then looked around, only to find the place was devoid of heroes. The receptionist came over to inform Daniel that he had just missed the sudden dispatch, but there would be a chance for another soon. And true to her word, the strange homeless man had come out of nowhere and teleported him over to the location. Suddenly, Daniel found himself in chaos: a group of heroes taking on what looked like a dragon, with wings and everything. It even unleashed a flame breath, and Daniel ran behind a conveniently placed brick wall to take cover.

The others were doing what they could, but Daniel could tell that not everyone here was packing the heavy firepower needed to take down the beast. But at the very least, there were no civilians around to get hurt either. As the heroes clashed, the dragon began to make its counterattack. Daniel rushed towards Catherine, intending to carry her just out of range from the swiping tail, and would proceed to say, "Can't have you going down too soon." while flashing a smile. Then he'd zip over to Intel's hiding spot, sitting down close to her. "Hope Sunshine knows what he's doing up there," Daniel remarked. "Any other bright ideas?" Daniel asked Intel. "I'd be happy to hear 'em."

Success! Airframe watched her hand attached to Hereford wrap around one of the dragon's wings. She heard the girl beside her first mention the wing's membrane, and then began to give commands to everyone including her. This was nostalgic. Just like mission control except without the constant reminders to mind her optics. 'There's a news crew at seven o'clock. Make sure your back isn't facing them. Remember to smile'. On second thought, maybe she didn't miss that.

"Thank you," Wireframe replied with an appreciative nod, a thumbs up and a Hollywood smile. She turned her attention back to the Dragon. Intel was right. Wireframe waited for the right moment. The flying girl has its attention but she still be vulnerable if she commited now and the Dragon saw her too early.

The moment Spotlight three the orb, Wireframe knew what was about to happen. She shut her eyes, tucked her chin into her chest, and then rapidly turned the wire attached to her hand back into her arm. Now, Wireframe knew that trying to anchor the Dragon was a fool's errand. It was much much heavier than her. But she was counting on this. Before the fireball aimed at the brick wall connected, Wireframe shot into the air and zipped up straight to the Dragon's wing. When she reached it, She grabbed gold with her remaining three limbs while pulling the wrapped wire tight.

@Zapdos @Azure Bubbles @cosmiccowgirl @Byte

Morgan Le Fay

Maggie made sure her wall was sturdy enough to sustain the incoming attack of the dragon. And she knew she would need to do a bit more to help with it. Starting to throw nearby cars and broken parts of the building towards the dragon. Speaking in a guttural language, invoking the names of ancient gods. Trying to banish the dragon back to wherever it roamed. Being sure not to accidentally hit any of the other heroes with whatever she was throwing. Being impressed with the powers they brought to the table.

Although she wasn’t as impressed with the more flashy heroes like Spotlight. Glaring at him when he turned the camera around towards him. Her eyes looked with interest at Blackstar and her ability to conjure armour and weapons. She had to stop throwing things because she was afraid she was going to hit someone. Being aware that they would need to quickly organize, or they would be easily killed by the dragon. So she took Intel’s advice and tried to ground the dragon.

She floated above the brick wall and started chanting another spell. Parts of the building were floating beside her before being sent flying towards the Dragon’s wings.

Things didn't seem to be going to plan. The dragon appeared unfazed by everything, dodging attacks and letting loose a bolt of fire that Blackstar had to pull some quick aerial maneuvering to avoid. Luckily she was good at that. Still, she could feel the heat even through her thermal-regulated uniform as she darted out of the dangerzone.

Nothing seemed to distract the beast. Except that wire that had been shot at him and caught hold of his wing -- though, rather than falter and try to get away, the huge creature seemed to try and pull the holder of said wire up, over the wall the witch-girl had made. If it managed that, the wired woman would be in direct danger.

Wait, there was someone Blackstar hadn't clocked before, calling out orders in an almost monotone fashion, like she did this sort of thing ever day. The rebellious streak in her resented someone just stepping in and assuming command without discussion, but before she had much time to consider it she saw the flashy guy shoot a ball of light up into the sky.

Something told her she'd better look away before she was blinded, and she did so just in time. If she'd been looking, her retinas definitely would've been feeling that burn.

Rolling through the air and coming back up behind the dragon, she manifested the dark energy blades she'd dismissed a moment ago. All she needed was for the monster to be distracted by that light, just for a second -- there.

Blackstar dove down, cutting dangerously close to the dragon's head to score her cosmic blades along the side of its skull. It was a risky maneuver, but she was quick. She didn't know how the dark energy would respond to the scales, but she knew it wasn't a killing blow -- just something to sting and hopefully keep the monster distracted from Wireframe and everyone else on the ground.

Bright!

Very bright.

The mystery man’s thoughts on Spotlight’s newest maneuver were succinct. Plus lasers! Lasers were cool. Welding the metal to the wing was a clever touch, and one the dragon couldn’t counter given the burst of light that had briefly blinded it. The beast roared, more in irritation than in pain, but inconvenienced all the same. Also apparently some kind of speedster was part of the plan, since the guy just randomly popped in and saved the dragon girl from the tail swipe.

And the wire girl pulled the dragon closer to the ground! The flamethrower would end up going towards the rubble, not above it, and anyone behind the wall would be safe.

That wasn’t all, either! The demon hunter girl slashed the beast with her blade, inflicting damage. A few pieces of rubble were sent its way also for a smaller, yet similar effect. Maggie’s dimensional spell may have done nothing, but she was definitely contributing to the fight.

Overall? Pretty dang cool, and the man in the beret showed his appreciation with a grin. “Great job! They chose well. But you aren’t done yet!”

Suddenly, a burst of flames instantly appeared all around the dragon, hurting anyone who was nearby at that time. Those unfortunates would perhaps notice something else, if they looked closely enough; the damage didn’t make the dragon bleed. Instead, its skin looked smeared, as if drying wet paint had been touched by someone.

For a second, it almost looked like their mismatched little crew might be making some headway. Blackstar hadn't been paying too much attention to the man in the beret though she'd noted him when they first arrived; her flight path after following through with the cut to the dragon took her in a little loop around, getting herself out of the way of any potential retaliation while checking on teammates, but as she did so she noted the man was still there on the sidelines. Like it was some kind of show.

Suspicion suddenly sprung up in her mind as she came around behind the dragon again, preparing for another attack though her eyes lingered on the man with the beret. He didn't seem concerned at all. And what as that he'd just said? She didn't catch it...

Unfortunately, her distraction and proximity to the dragon proved an unfortunate turn of events. She saw the flames as they erupted but was too late to completely dodge them, still zipping out of the way as fast as possible despite her suit definitely catching fire. Gritting her teeth, Blackstar dove for the ground a ways away and purposefully let herself hit the dust, bracing for the impact and, when it came, rolling with it.

Although a bit painful it worked as intended and put out the smoldering parts of her uniform, leaving a few singed holes on her right side. Blackstar swiftly got to her feet, well aware the fight was still going on -- and now needing the share some information with the team.

Ignoring the sting in her shoulder where the fire had made the worst damage, she leaped off the ground and quickly flew back over to the others. Touching down again behind the safety of Maggie's wall, she focused her attention on the IT-looking one who'd been barking orders.

"Hey," she gasped, a little out of breath as she flagged the other woman down. "I think this dragon might not be what we think it is! When I-- ow--"

Blackstar interrupted herself briefly as she pointed back at the dragon in question, flexing her burnt shoulder as she did so but continuing quickly, "--When I was up there, the places where it's being hit are... smudged? Messed up -- not like actually hurt, but like paint's melting or something. Like the whole thing's a stunt."

She cast a suspicious glance in the direction of the beret guy at that before looking back to Intel. She'd seen the other woman's little drone things -- she assumed if anybody was getting a technical read of some kind on whatever they fighting, it'd be her.

Annika had flinched imperceptibly. Fingers tightened around the edges of her datapad, the minute clench of a jaw and flared nostril as she blinked at the feet of the person who’d appeared mere inches beside her. Not arrived, not showed up, but appeared without any noticeable displacement or friction.

“... Don’t do that.” She spoke evenly, eyes staring at the feed of her drones recording the dragon rearing more in annoyance than what seemed to be pain; though Annika couldn’t attest to knowing much about the anatomy of what was, effectively, a myth.

“That is unacceptable variance,” She paused, turning to the young man, deliberately looking past his shoulders in an odd angle. “For me.” She adjusted her visor with meticulous care, the gesture precise enough to be grounding. Her jaw unclenched by degrees.

“Announce proximity next time.” Annika said, quieter this time. “Verbally. Or audibly.”

She turned back to the feed, adjusting some variables that made Ike and Omar whirr lower to the ground; narrowly avoiding the sudden fiery cone that radiated off the dragon’s form, the feed flickering with the sudden spike in temperature before stabilising.

Annika’s gaze flicked past her screen for a moment, landing on the black-and-white woman’s shoulder first, the singed fabric, the way she held it slightly off-angle, then back to the tablet in her hands. “Repeat,” Annika said. Not curt. Focused. “Smudged how.”

Slender fingers flicked, a pinched gesture flicking outward onto Omar’s feed for digital zoom as her eyes picked up on the oddity. The damage around the creature’s neck and shoulders more like smudged paint than an expected gash or tear. “No visible vascular response,” Annika observed. “No particulate shedding. No biological fluids.”

“Possibility one,” Annika said evenly. “Synthetic construct or projection with tactile interaction.” She tapped again. “Possibility two, layered illusion over a solid core.” Another pause. Shorter this time. “Possibility three, staged engagement.”

“If you re-engage,” Annika’s voice was louder, firmer now. “avoid repeated strikes in the same area. We need variance.” Then, after a beat. “And stay clear of the flame radius. It is real.”

Her gaze landed back on the man with the beret and camera, he was smiling. She noticed and locked it.

Wrong.

“You,” She jutted her finger to the speedster, then to the new variable she had previously omitted. “Maintain support role, keep proximation to civilian.” She gestured at the strange man. “But do not approach recklessly.” Her eyes flicked back to the dragon proper now, past the feed and observing it from her own viewpoint. Ike and Omar whirred upward, one drone charging and firing its laser more precisely at varying points; testing theories, watching how the dragon responded.

She huffed, fiddling with another electric charge and sliding it to the young man beside her. “Click once to prime, twice for five point three second timer.” She blinked, turning to her feed again as she typed another command. Ike hovering closer to get a better view of the strange man. “Ike will distort with noise if necessary.” Annika’s lips twitched slightly, pride, before adding; “He’s got sixty-three audible distractions.”

---

Speed was not a thing that Catherine prided herself in, much more content to take things at her own pace instead of rushing things along to mistakes. Yet even she was ashamed at only getting two steps in before being pulled back to safety and watching the others act.

Yet, it was not all for naught. A step back allows one to gaze upon a canvas to search for things that need fixing after all. Here is no different. Catherine may not quite see the smears that the tablet woman mentions, but what she does say sparks an idea. She wants variety? Then the Iron Dragon can oblige.

It much easier to approach the massive beast now it has moved closer, a dozen steps taken in a second with momentum transferred into leap. Height and distance more then sufficient to launch her towards the goal, that being the back of the dragon.

One hand snaps out, grabbing at bits of wire that still wrap around it even if they are a bit melted, a yank showing their sturdy construction as they are able to take her strength and allow them to be used as barding. A roar being choked out as she directs its neck and head to slam down into the asphalt.

@cosmiccowgirl @Zapdos

Morgan Le Fay

Moving out of the way of the dragon’s flame by flying to the left. Her flying was not as smooth as Blackstar's, but she was able to maneuver well enough not be burned alive. Although a bit of her dress was singed by the heat. Looking over at the construction site that was nearby, and the pile of rebar that could be used. With a few spoken words, the rebar started floating above the air and was hurled towards the dragon’s heart.

Maggie’s eyes looked at the damage they were doing to the dragon. She had a look of annoyance, thinking they were not doing enough to stop it. But her expression was hidden by her veil. Wondering as well if this was some sort of illusion. She didn’t think the dragon was truly magical and could perhaps be mechanical in nature.

Her eyes landed on the man who was pointing a camera at them. Not knowing if he was a civilian or a paparazzi trying to slander them. He could hear a female voice in his head. “Please leave the premises before you get hurt.” A polite enough request. And if he didn’t move, then she would help him vacate the area.

Her attention went back to the dragon that still wasn’t out for the count. Floating above the wall. She tightened the wires that were around the dragon. Making sure it was digging into its “Flesh.”

She didn’t know much about technology, but she was sure the one named Intel could do some damage to the beast. She assumed that those drones were armed with some kind of weapon. She continued attacking the dragon by throwing large debris at it.

Wireframe was now, in a sense, riding the dragon. She hadn't come up here with some grand plan. This had been the immediate countermeasure to avoid getting pulled along. But now she was here, she could look around for some kind of weak spot, or some way to turn the tide of the fight. Before shecould make much progress in this endevour, the Dragon suddenly exploded in flame. The moment Wireframe felt the heat and her breain registered what was happening, she turned her entire body to wire.

The wire that was formely Madicon's main body uncurled and began to flutter loosely while the flamed raged, before soon subsiding. Luckily the fire wasn't hot enough or prolonged enough tosignificantly ment the steel, though some parts were...soft. Wireframe began reforming herself the moment the coadt was clear, but having unfurled from the drag, Her body parts had ended upallover the place. She began to reveart herself carefully and in order, briefly stopping to work around a kink in the wire. Each modicum of progress she made also pulled her back closer to the dragon as the amount of wire between her and the tight wrappings stillaround the Dragon's wing became shorter. She hadn't yet noted the new smudginess of the Dragon's appearence, but she did feelthat somebody out of view and on the dragon was using some of the slack wire as makeshift reins. Wireframe had mixed feelings about that.