[INDENT][COLOR=SLATEGRAY][CENTER][sup][sup][h1][center][img] https://media.architecturaldigest.com/photos/672d4a5b823a46b3d7f713e1/16:9/w_2560%2Cc_limit/GettyImages-1867432941.jpg[/img][/center][b][center][color=black] S T . D Y M P H N A ‘ S H O M E[/color] [color=lightgray]S T . D Y M P H N A ‘ S H O M E[/color][/center] [/b][/h1][/sup][/sup] [sup][sup][h1][b][center][color=black] F O R W A Y W A R D Y O U T H S[/color] [color=lightgray]F O R W A Y W A R D Y O U T H S[/color][/center] [/b][/h1][/sup][/sup] [color=silver][sup][i]Joanie[/i][/sup][/color][/CENTER][/color][/INDENT] The air still carried the cold the Icelander had left behind as Joanie sat hunched in the chair, her wrists bound, and her breath trembling as she tried to pull herself back into her own body. That experience had been so much worse than having Marth in her head. It had felt violating. She pressed her palms against her knees and focused on the feeling of her skin. Her heartbeat. The warmth of her own thoughts. Anything that was hers. Mina moved fast before her. She rifled through the desk drawers, shoving aside papers, pens, and all manner of stationary. Joanie watched her, taking in every detail she had been too dazed to notice before. The puffiness around her eyes. The dried blood smeared across her cheeks from the broken nose she had taken only hours ago. Her hair was a mess, sticking out in uneven clumps as if she had run her hands through it too many times. She looked battered and furious and scared, yet she kept moving with a stubborn focus that made Joanie’s chest tighten. Joanie couldn’t even express how happy the sight of her alive and free made her. Joanie watched the faint glow of Mina’s, her veins lit with a soft shimmer. They left a series of red lines across her hands like molten cracks. She paused when she found a pair of scissors, lifting them with a grimace. “I didn’t want to hurt you,” she explained, voice tight. “I melted through mine but didn’t want to risk your wrists.” Joanie nodded, throat thick. “[color=plum]Thank you.[/color]” Mina worked carefully, cutting her free. The plastic snapped and Joanie’s arms dropped into her lap. Relief hit her so hard she almost cried. She rubbed her wrists, grateful in a way she could not put into words. Her gaze drifted to the Icelander’s unconscious body on the floor as she moved to her feet. Her fingers curled. A part of her wanted to hit him. To make him feel even a fraction of what he had forced her to see. But she didn’t dare touch him. She couldn’t risk doing anything that might cause her to feel his mind again. She couldn’t bare to feel that cold again. Mina stepped toward the door. “We need to go.” She moved to follow her, yet stopped as she remembered something. She turned to look down at the other body on the floor “[color=plum]Wait.[/color]” She finally said, before crouching down to grab hold of his arm. “[color=plum]Help me with Caleb.[/color]” Mina turned, eyebrows raised. “What, why? That dick can get stuffed.” She was right of course. Yet Joanie couldn’t bare the thought of leaving him here. Who knows what that monster would do to him. Besides, despite everything, he was still Caleb. Her Caleb. “[color=plum]I can’t just leave him,[/color]” Joanie said. Her voice cracked. “[color=plum]Please.[/color]” Mina groaned under her breath but moved to Caleb’s other side . “Fine. But if he wakes up and starts whining, I’m dropping him.” Joanie gave her an appreciative smile, grateful for the nervous levity. Mina grabbed her hoodie from her waist and wrapped it around her hands before touching him. Together they lifted him, his weight slumping between them. His head lolled forward, breath shallow. Joanie glanced back at the desk. A phone lay near the edge. The Icelander’s. She grabbed it and shoved it into her pocket. Someone would need it. Police. Anyone. At the very least it would be an inconvenience for that asshole.. They stepped out into the corridor, moving slowly with Caleb’s weight between them. Joanie’s pulse thudded in her ears. She had no idea where they were given she had been unconscious when they were brought in. Every door looked the same and every hallway felt wrong. They decided to take a left, moving down a hallway that eventually led to a stairwell. That at least was encouraging given she knew the office had been a floor up, yet the maze before her was still daunting. Rounding the next corner, they froze. The corridor stretched ahead in a long, narrow run, its cream walls broken by a series of closed doors on either side. At the far end, the corridor bent away into another turn, though a single door stood at the end facing them. What she suspected might be their exit, was unfortunately blocked. A small group of men stood before them, leaning against the walls and chatting lazily. Their voices faltered as they noticed the three of them shuffle into view. Their expressions shifted and their bodies straightened as they stepped away from the walls and moved toward them. One frowned. “What are you doing out?” Another merely cracked his knuckles with a smirk. Joanie raised a hand, instinctively. But the moment she tried to summon her power, her knees weakened and her breath shook. She felt nothing but exhaustion. Her hand trembled in the air. The look of heartbreak on her face quickly turned to shock as the room began to darken. Glancing past them, she watched as a darkness began to spread from beneath the far door. Shadow spilled in, and as it rose it started to come from the sides. Rising higher until the far end of the corridor was barely visible. “What in the name of-” Half of the goons turned to face the new threat, half kept their attention focused on Joanie and Mina. “-What are you doing?” Clearly they thought the two girls were responsible, when from the far side of the door a muffled voice could be heard. [COLOR=SLATEGRAY]”If you wouldn't mind…”[/color] there was a crash and the door shuddered. Another and it splintered. A third and it burst open, revealing a trio. [color=green]”Oss!”[/color] The shortest vocalized, drawing back his leg. [i]Did he just kick the door in?[/i] She tried to take him in. He was in plainclothes, joined by a taller man who looked like he’d stumbled off a mystery set, and the tallest, some kind of biker? It took her a split second to realise it was the detective; Dominic Dusk. Her heart leapt. The others were both familiar. Some kind of supes she imagined. Franklin could probably have given her their full origin stories. Maybe even Trey. Either way she was grateful to see them. Even more grateful that the attention of the men had turned away from them to the newly arrived trio. The biker stepped forward with a glowing blue longsword in hand, rearing his arm back and flinging the blade at one of the men facing the door. She winced in preparation for the blood, but none came. The blade bounced off of his head and sent him stumbling to the floor. As the blade began to fall, the biker pulled his hand back and the sword flew back into his grasp. [color=cadetblue][b]”Works every time.”[/b][/color] It took her a moment to realise it was made from some kind of energy. She was right; he was a supe. [color=green]”As long as you don't miss.”[/color] The shortest kicked up a chunk of splintered door into his hand and pitched it through the air. It slammed into one of the guards heads and he hit the ground hard. The detective had lunged forward and had started to make his way towards her and Mina, ducking beneath an outstretched hand. The shadows weaved and spun around him turning him into a weird hard-to-define blob of darkness. In the middle of his turn he shouted back to the two capes. [color=slategray]“Deal with these two, I’ll get the girls.”[/color] Hope filled her at the words, only to be quickly snuffed out as one of the guards turned back towards them. He broke from the group. His boots thudded against the floor as he closed the distance, eyes fixed on Mina with a look that made Joanie’s stomach crawl. He reached out, intending to grab her shoulder and shove her aside. There was a flash of movement from her right before Joanie could even react. Mina’s hand had snapped up and met his forearm, a faint glow flowing through the lines of her hands. Heat surged through him in a violent rush as his sleeve shrivelled and clung to his arm as the fibres melted into his skin. Blisters rose in an instant, swelling and splitting as he tore himself backward with a ragged scream. He stumbled away from her, clutching the ruined limb and collapsing against the wall. He lowered his good hand to his holster and pulled out a sidearm, but before Joanie could do anything, or Mina had recovered, Dusk was there. The barrel of his own pistol pressed up against his head. [color=slategray]“You might want to go ahead and drop that.”[/color] Mina stared at her own hand, guilt rippling through her. Dusk turned his attention back to the girls, their unconscious compatriot between them. His expression softened slightly as he looked down at them. [color=slategray]”You girls okay? I’m not sure I like the vibe in this club, it might be time to go home.”[/color] Joanie saw the other two over each of Dusk’s shoulders, fighting their captors, the men that just a moment ago seemed so impossible to overcome. The sword guy rammed his weapon into a guard’s abdomen and he dropped, while the short guy was wrapped around the remaining thug like a spider, restricting his movements and choking him out. Both men quickly fell. Turning her gaze back to Dusk, all she could manage in that moment was a nod. He nodded back, raised his revolver in the air and slammed it down again till the butt of the handle collided with the man’s forehead, he fell crumpled into an undignified heap. [COLOR=SLATEGRAY]”Watch our backs!”[/color] he called over their shoulders as he holstered the gun, looking back to the girls as he walked towards a set of double doors. [COLOR=SLATEGRAY]”Just a little farther ladies, if you need help carrying your friend ask one of the boys-”[/color] Before he could finish what he wanted to say, the double doors burst open, briefly revealing the room beyond. As two armed thugs came racing through, Dusk went for his pistol, flinching with his other arm. A mass of shadow shot out from beneath his jacket, colliding with the two figures and sending them careening through the air. Dusk froze for a moment, looking down at his own hand. [COLOR=SLATEGRAY]”-Well that's new.”[/color] Joanie herself blinked in confusion. She hadn't realised the man had been gray. The group charged through the door, emerging in the main room of the club. Now that she wasn’t passing through here half-unconscious, she could get a good look at it. The coloured lights were off, leaving the place exposed and ugly. The concrete floor was scuffed and stained, and the graffiti on the walls now just looked tacky. The arena platform has been repaired, although remnants of her work were still visible. She almost felt some pride in that moment. Joanie and Mina took the rear as they staggered forward with Caleb between them. He was still barely conscious despite the commotion. His breathing was hoarse, and she swore she could hear him mumbling her name. There wasn’t time for her to worry too much about him just yet, though. They unfortunately weren’t alone in here. The bar staff, only three of them, had seemingly frozen mid-movement before quietly abandoning their posts and slipping towards the fire exit, eyes wide and clearly unwilling to be part of what came next. That merely left the three figures in the centre of the room who were making their way towards them. Cinderjack seemed to lead them, as if deciding he was now in charge after Detonator Dane’s demise. He looked like shit. His breathing was uneasy, and he had a matching black eye forming on the other side now. He looked furious. The other two, the larger man known as Mudline and the smaller woman known as Pummel, seemed similarly injured, although they didn’t share the look of fury as their leader. Instead, they looked at each other uneasily. Joanie’s protectors seemed to fan out in front of her to match them. Dominic Dusk stepped slightly ahead, revolver low at his side as his shadow seemed to flex out beneath him to match his breathing. The biker twirled his blade of energy once, whilst the short one cracked his knuckles and rolled his neck. A tense stillness settled over the room as, for a heartbeat, no one moved. Then Joanie’s gaze drifted upwards as a flicker of movement caught her attention. Her breath caught. The Icelander stood behind the glass, one hand braced on the frame, watching them all with the same cold, hollow expression she had just felt inside her skull. His glare cut through her like a knife, and her lungs tightened. Her scream tore out from her before she even realised she was making a sound and her hand thrust upwards towards him. She summoned every last drop of his energy, energy she didn’t even know she had, and willed it up towards him in a violent ripple. The glass shattered in a spray of glittering shards, shooting into the office. The Icelander jerked back from the impact. Blood streaked down his face as she moved back up into view, a shard of glass erupting from his cheek. He touched it with two fingers, wincing slightly, before bringing up his now red fingers to take a look. His voice carried down through the warehouse, cold and sharp. “I want that bitch alive. Kill the rest.” [CENTER][color=silver][sup][i]In collaboration with [@Sep], [@Captain Uni], and [@DocTachyon][/i][/sup][/color][/CENTER]