Evil Ghost Note

Vivid Recollections Season 2: Into The False Light [COMPLETE]

Okay I will write a post moving things along today or tomorrow

Charity Beach: Paradise Gone [Semi-Sandbox/Superhuman]

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Charity Beach Festival.

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Ain't she an odd one.

Drake thought to himself as he gazed upon the... tiny girl from earlier? She said some stuff to Henry before moving on but he didn't think too much about it. It was kinda weird if he had to be completely honest, but Drake wasn't the type to let first impressions ruin what could be a beautiful relationship! Of course, the girl wasn't all that bad looking if Drake had to say so himself. A short little thing that he could tell was kind of Spanish, she looked kinda trashy but Drake was fine with that. Skinny and not all that curvy... which were also things that Drake didn't have a problem with.

What he had a problem was with her... manner of speech. "Heh, someone's tryin' a little too hard." She talked with this ridiculous, over the top, accent that those in New Orleans put on to appease the tourists. Maybe there were people out there that did talk like this, but he wasn't convinced - Drake found it cuter than anything that she was forcing this accent for him! It almost forced a chuckle out of him - but he had to look super serious.

"Yer deh friend o' dat gatah man, no?"

Though that smile faded when Drake had to answer the question with a very flat look on his face. "... He doesn't like to be called that." He just had to say, which he admits was probably not the best opener but hey; he had to pay respect where it was due. "But, yeah, you're speaking to officer Drake Blackmore, FAMA special forces first class." Drake wondered why despite all the good he did for FAMA; never moved up in the organization past officer. Those bastards!

The girl offered him a drink and Drake would have declined himself but she went ahead for him. "Yeah, no drinkin' on the job!" Drake said... half-heartedly. If it wasn't completely stupid, he would enjoy just a little sip, but with REAPER and other threats out there; he had to be on tip-top shape at all times. Because whenever they tried to start something Drake would make sure he'd be the first person there stopping them!

"You be lookin' for your friend, no?"

Cracking out into a light chuckle that he quickly dashed away as to not look like he's laughing at Bobbi, Drake crossed his arms. "Nah, I'm waiting for the old lizard," Drake answered briefly. "Trust me, someone like him would find me in no time! But, in the meantime..."

Drake smugly grinned as he said,

"... What's your name? You don't look like you're... from around here."

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Charity Beach Festival

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Gorillaz - Doncamatic

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After the interview, Kashmira was unsure of how to feel about it all, but she ultimately hoped the best. She was expecting someone more professional and less interested in riding trends but she knows that, somehow, the whole Happiness would get the exposure it needed! Either way, Kashmira finished the rest of her shift and got changed at work before she headed off to the festival. This was her first time attending it (she had to miss last year's) and she was excited! But also saddened that this would be the first type of celebration that she attended without her family - without Rashmika of all people! She attended a few American festivals but all she could do was feeling homesick. American holidays were nothing like the days she spent dancing in Gujarat, and all she could do was find solace in her fellow Indians.

The girl was sitting in a bus seat wearing grey Nike sweat shorts that had matching black Nike sneakers. She was wearing a matching grey Nike t-shirt with "JUST DO IT" and the Nike logo on it. Of course, Kashmira had her scrubs and other items in a backpack that she would keep very close to her. She, naturally, distracted herself in her phone and merely viewed her family's various social media accounts - and sometimes glanced at her coworkers and friends social media.

Though, while she was browsing she got a call on facetime.

RASHMIKA

Immediately, the girl was overjoyed that she got to see her sister's face again! It goes without saying that Kashmira hit "answer" on her phone. The first sight was her twin sister's face, which was almost an exact reflection of her own but with a few differences. Maybe her face had a slightly different shape, and her eyes weren't as big as Kashmira's but the similarity was still there.

"Hello, sister," Rashmika spoke in Gujarati, the language that the two of them found the easiest to speak in despite Kashmira's near-flawless English. "How are you? How is Florida treating you?"

"It's great, sister!" Kashmira answered. "The weather is beautiful, it's almost like it is back home..."

"Do you miss it, sister?" Rashmika answered.

"I do, I do," Kashmira answered honestly, "But, America is our new home, if grandmother made this place her home then so can we."

"I'd like to visit every once in a while," Rashmika answered.

"Grandmother said we shouldn't go back there."

"Do you really listen to her paranoid drivel?" Rashmika said, "I love our grandmother with all my heart, but we must live our lives sisters... she even has our parents believing her. The two of us could have been long married by now."

Kashmira nodded her head. Hanumanta was a very old woman, possibly senile and developing... "other" signs of age, but Kashmira still found wisdom in what she spoke. Though, she found it inconspicuous that her grandmother refuses to step foot back in India but never mentions why. She spoke of her adventures and the things she had done but never specified why she left after the death of her grandfather far before she was even born. Kashmira would press her on her secrets later on - because this was one thing that Kashmira would not let Hanumanta bring to the grave.

"If she says we shouldn't go there," Kashmira answered. "Then that's what we should do; she knows more than what we do and you know what happened..." It was something that the mere implication made Kashmira cringe and Rashmika feel guilt: the encounter with Abel. It was years ago but sometimes she still thinks about the thing and has dreams of it. Kashmira wishes she could just let it go, but...

"Very well," Rashmika said, "If that is your choice..."

The bus came to a stop and already Kashmira could see how amazing the celebration was! It was a vibrant, energetic, fair full of all sorts of people and suddenly an idea popped in that head of hers.

"Rashmika," Kashmira said in their native language, "I am attending one of their festivals... and I am feeling awfully lonely, want to keep me company, sister?" It wasn't as good as having her here in person, but she was willing to take the next best thing.

"Gladly, sister." Rashmika said as they remained on facetime.

Kashmira stepped out of the bus and she walked all the way over to the admission gates that were blocked off by the turnstile. There was a group of guards, police officers, and FAMA agents at the gates and one of which had a clipboard. When Kashmira was walking up she noticed that the guard made someone sign before sending them in where they received a note and a balloon... interesting? When it was Kashmiras turn she held the phone in hand as the guard asked,

"Name?"

"Kashmira Sarai." The girl said fast and the guard had on a look of bewilderment.

"... Mind saying that again a little slower?"

Kashmira nodded her head as she said her name again, "Kash-mir-ah, Sur-Rai." She was used to this.

"Hey, what's in the bag?" He pointed at her back bag before giving her a curious look... he silently gestured for the rest of them to come along.

"Oh?" Kashmira raised an eyebrow as she opened up the bag revealing her blue scrubs stuffed into the bag. "My work clothes, I just got done with my shift and wanted to come here and see the festival." Kashmira looked at the guard and was convinced he wasn't convinced.

"Empty the bag."

"What?"

"I said empty the bag."

Suddenly Kashmira felt a little nervous - there were at least five cops and other security all around her and she was all by herself!

"Be strong, sister," Rashmika said through facetime, and it appeared as gibberish which Kashmira felt didn't help her case that much. However, she was going to do just that.

"Could I at least get a table to set this on?" Kashmira asked.

"Empty it right here, right now. Or you're not coming in." The guard said before the young woman huffed and pulled out her scrubs after putting her phone in her pocket for a second. She draped it over her shoulder just so it wouldn't touch the floor but it became abundantly clear there wasn't anything in the bag.

"Satisfied?" She asked, trying to contain the venom against this racist bastard.

With a nod of his head, the guard nodded his head and signed her name as the girl gave him a very disgusted look as she stuffed her scrubs back in and marched past him.

The first thing that Kashmira did was pull out her phone and nearly shout, "Buckwass!", into her phone. He most likely didn't understand the comment, but Kashmira had to vent his frustration.

"Bet he would gladly let you past if you were a white woman." Rashmika laughed for a moment with her hand covering her mouth. "That's what I noticed; Americans are so scared of all the wrong people." Rashmika shrugged her shoulders.

"I just hope he'll, someday, change his ways."

"I hope so, too, sister," Rashmika answered, "But, I'd love to see this American festival." She said with a grin.

Once she got to the other side of the admission gate there was a stand with a bunch of balloons behind it and pieces of paper. They flagged her down and Kashmira walked over to them very curious with the hand in her hand.

"Hey, here's your balloon, don't lose it," The woman at the stand softly said to Kashmira, "You have to write something down on the paper, tie it to the balloon, and when the clock strikes four o'clock release it."

"Okay!" Kashmira said as she set the phone down so Rashmika wouldn't see what she wrote, before tying it to the balloon and picking up her phone and walking off with the green balloon in hand... her favorite color!

"This doesn't sound nowhere near as fun as our festivals," Rashmika asked.

"It isn't," Kashmira said, "Nothing will be as fun as playing with kites on the streets on Uttarayan!"

"So, sister," Rashmika asked, "What did you write?"

Kashmira shook her head into the phone, "Nope, not telling."

"Please?" Rashmika pleaded.

"I'll tell you when I let it loose," Kashmira answered as she walked around and saw all the stands and attractions that were just begging for her. "Besides... there is much fun to be had in the meantime."

Charity Beach: A Semi-Sandbox Superpower Romp in a Beachy Floridian City.

OOC

Vivid Recollections Season 2: Into The False Light [COMPLETE]

In as long as you are.

@Zombiedude101

I'm in balls deep.

Vivid Recollections Season 2: Into The False Light [COMPLETE]

Alright, this is a callout post; who's still in and who's out?

@MagratheanWhale@Zombiedude101@Majoras End@Eric Horst@FernStone@Atrophy@Ciaran

Charity Beach: Paradise Gone [Semi-Sandbox/Superhuman]

Also would someone make an npc sheet for a musician coming to da beach?

Charity Beach: Paradise Gone [Semi-Sandbox/Superhuman]

Place your characters somewhere so I can start some scenes and do something gay later on.

Charity Beach: Paradise Gone [Semi-Sandbox/Superhuman]

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^{Collab between @ayzrules and @Ruler Inc}
St. Mercer Hospital

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As the door swung open, Chrissy shut off her phone and turned to face the nurse who walked in, who was, quite possibly, shorter than Chrissy was.

Well, that's quite an accomplishment, Chrissy thought wryly to herself, giving the other woman a casual once-over as she smiled a greeting. Those scrubs were...not what Chrissy would have chosen to worn, to say the least. But she supposed that the nurse had no choice, given the circumstances of her occupation.

If Andrew made us show up to work in fancy suits and dresses every day, I think I'd quit, straight-up, Chrissy mused silently. Pencil skirts and tights and blouses and blazers in L.A. heat? No thank you.

The nurse smiled a greeting and introduced herself. Kashmira seemed nice enough, though her accent made her voice a bit hard to understand, at times. No hate from Chrissy, though. She was sure that if she tried to speak whatever her native language was, she'd end up sounding like the whitest piece of white bread in existence. Or the way that the 'you know I had to do it to em' guy sounded in her head. Which was, of course, unfortunate, but sometimes it just be like that.

Chrissy nodded solemnly as she spoke. When she was finished, Chrissy mulled over her words for a moment before responding.

"I'm Chrissy. It's a pleasure to meet you, Kashmira," she began. She paused, delicately. "I'm glad that they are letting me talk to you, then. Thanks for agreeing to meet me, by the way. Now. Do you know anything about Kaia Gutierrez?"

Chrissy paused again, letting her words sink in. "She's an Instamodel. Dated Cody King for like, six months last year. Checked into your hospital last week, after overdosing on Happiness. Her natural hair is dark brown, almost black. Think Shay Mitchell's 'do. Right now you can't tell, though, because she got blonde highlights. She's like, pretty young-I want to say between twenty and twenty-three-and was at a beach party when she OD'ed." Chrissy frowned, trying to think of more things about Kaia that differentiated her from basically every other Instamodel out there. "Oh! She's got hella lip fillers. LIke, even more extreme than Kylie's. Nose job, too, though I'm not sure if you'd be able to tell. So yeah. What's the deal with her right now?"

Chrissy sat back, gauging Kashmira's reaction. Was the nurse going to tell her that Kaia's current condition was "confidential"? Chrissy hoped not. She'd really wanted to be in and out with the least amount of wheedling as possible. The Sephora at the mall was calling her name.

Kashmira could only help but give the reporter a sweet smile. As she tried to hide her disappointment because, first of all, she was under the assumption that this reporter wanted to know about Happiness... not the latest gossip story. While Kashmira was inexperienced; she knew better than to disclose such information. Patient confidentiality and all, after all. She dealt with such reporters.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Kashmira made sure to slow down - people always said that she was hard to understand! But, she needed to make sure that quirk of hers didn't get in her way of saying this. "That is strictly confidential, I cannot disclose that information. Patient confidentiality is something I take seriously, very seriously - out of not because of my job, but out of respect. Please understand."

Fuck. Well, what was I expecting? Chrissy thought to herself, though her expression didn't change. It was not the first time something like this had happened to her, to say the least.

She shrugged, nonchalantly. "Alright. Are you allowed to tell me stuff about the Happiness drug in general, then?" she said, switching tactics.

"That... I would gladly," Kashmira said with a smile - for real this time - as the reporter switched topics to something that Kashmira would gladly tell her. "Long as you promise to keep ... Kaia's name out of the article." The young Indian woman wouldn't stand it if she went around taking this information out of context - especially since the purpose of this interview was to help people. That was the right thing to do, right? Take time out of your day to make sure someone else's would improve.

"Now that's out of the way, the Happiness drug... I'm not sure, honestly. It honestly popped up a few months ago when I was still a new nurse, and now it's everywhere!" The nurse put her hands up in an overdramatic display before she continued. "It's like MDMA and heroine rolled into one but far worse - far too worse - I mean, at first the effects seem nice... euphoria, reduction of pain, bodily pleasure, serenity... but when it wears off it's like their zombies!"

Kashmira said for dramatic effect, but kept her eyes focused on the Asian reporter at all times - it was almost like Kashmira was looking into her. Force of habit. "You see... the drug is very addictive, and withdrawals can be... fatal. And when it wears off the user gets very aggressive and violent - almost like a switch in their head's been turned on. It's very bad."

Chrissy listened to Kashmira's explanation, pursing her lips slightly. "Damn. That sounds unpleasant." Chrissy reached into her purse and pulled out a sparkly pink gel pen, as well as a small notebook. "Mind if I write that down?" she said, scribbling the words MDMA and heroine, euphoria/bodily pleasure/serenity --> zombies, withdrawal = aggressive and violent down. She chewed on the end of the pen, thoughtfully.

"Yes, you may." The girl politely said.

"Okay, so what happens to someone when they OD?" Chrissy asked, her pen poised above the notepad.

"Their body gets overwhelmed by the drug as too much of it is sent through the body... then things start to shut down. The heart and lungs begin to slow down and then irreparable damage to the brain occurs due to lack of oxygen and... I may be getting too scientific. But, there was another effect that people believe to be linked to Happiness...."

This was all a... rumor. So far, nothing's been confirmed and what Kashmira was saying was, far as anyone else was concerned, speculation. But in her heart, she knew it was linked.

"... Sudden and spontaneous mutations and tumorous growths," Kashmira said. "Some people have been turning into... freakish versions of their former selves by the drug. And FAMA, officially, says that it's a bad power manifestation caused by overdosing. But I know, in my heart, it's caused by the drug."

"I see," Chrissy answered, noting down irrepairable damage to the brain due to lack of oxygen and sudden mutations/tumorous growths, freakish versions of former selves, FAMA lying (???). "So how long does it take to get better from OD'ing, then? Like, assuming someone who OD'ed had all the care they needed, what's the minimum amount of time that it'll take for them to get better?"

"... You truly can't" Kashmira said, "Even if oxygen to the brain is cut for a second; the damage can not be fixed. But I guess you regain consciousness after a day or two, and after a few weeks they'll be able to head home."

Chrissy's eyebrows shot up at Kashmira's response. "Huh. That's a bummer," she replied, writing a few things down before looking back up at the nurse. "What are people like after they regain consciousness? Do they seem, I dunno, normal?"

"Well... the drug will still be in their system so they're quite... difficult to handle. We have several people that had to be physically restrained. And they'll continue to act that way through the withdrawal process... if they survive."

"So they go crazy, or something? Is that what's happening here, thanks to Happiness?"

"In a way, yes," Kashmira said, "And nobody seems to care about what's happening - they seem more interested in which popstar is coming to perform in the beach and making money than the possible collapse of the city."

Chrissy let out a derisive snort. "Yeah. It's rough." She skimmed over her notes, briefly. There was enough info here to spin a story out of Kaia, patient confidentiality or not. Still, though, Chrissy had to try one last time. "Hey, Kashmira, thanks for all of this," Chrissy said, glancing up from her notebook. "It's a huge help."

"You sure there's nothing else you can tell me about Ms. Gutierrez here? I'm not with the L.A. Times or whatever, but I probably hook your hospital up with someone from there. You know, give this problem the exposure it deserves." She shrugged. "That is, if I have a motivating factor, of course."

Okay, so that was a bit of a lie-Chrissy didn't like, know know anyone with the Times. But she knew people who knew people, so like...it was basically the same thing, right? Right.

Kashmira smiled warmly.

"... No, there is not." Kashmira said... and there was probably a reason why her grandmother said her power was just so fitting for the girl. Hanumanta said she was the most stubborn young woman she ever met... and said that wasn't a such bad thing. Especially with how people would try to manipulate her. "You best give up now because..." She made a gesture to her mouth, pinching her fingers together and dragging them from one end of her lips to the others. Sorry, but not really.

Chrissy shrugged, again. "'Kay. Well, thanks anyway," she said breezily, standing up and stretching. "I'm sure you're busy. Don't wanna hold you up any longer. Toodles." Chrissy gave Kashmira a jaunty wave, and sailed out of the room.

"Goodbye, see you soon," Kashmira said with a smile. "You know where to find me if you have more questions."

Back in the parking lot, she went over her notes again, already composing a story in her head. But first, Sephora, she thought to herself, settling into the driver's seat and pulling out of the parking lot.

---

Back at her great-aunt's apartment, Chrissy pulled up a Word document, cracked her knuckles, and began working on a story to send to her boss-

ECSTASY KNOCK-OFFS AND INSTAMODELS...OH MY

WHILE TWEEN POP SENSATION CODY KING RELEASES SINGLE AFTER SINGLE DIRECTED TO THE CROWD THAT WATCHES DISNEY CHANNEL UNIRONICALLY, ONE OF HIS EXES (HINT: HER FIRST NAME STARTS WITH A K, ENDS WITH AN 'AIA', AND IS FOUR LETTERS LONG) HAS BEEN UP TO SOMETHING SLIGHTLY MORE...ADULT-ORIENTED. SAID EX HAS OD'ED ON ONE (1) DRUG CALLED HAPPINESS, WHICH IS APPARENTLY 'LIKE MDMA AND HEROINE ROLLED INTO ONE', ACCORDING TO AN ANONYMOUS SOURCE.

EXPERTS IN THE FIELD HAVE DETERMINED THAT OD'ING CAUSES 'IRREPAIRABLE BRAIN DAMAGE' AND 'SUDDEN MUTATIONS'. YIKES, RIGHT? BUT ONE CAN ONLY WONDER WHAT EFFECT OD'ING WOULD HAVE ON SOMEONE IF THEY 1) DIDN'T HAVE A BRAIN, AND 2) HAD SO MUCH PLASTIC SURGERY THAT THEY'RE BASICALLY A MUTATED VERSION OF THEMSELVES ALREADY.

LOOK, ALRIGHT, IM NOT ACCUSING ANYONE OF MISSING A BRAIN...IT'S JUST THAT ONE QUESTIONS YOUR CEREBRAL CAPACITY WHEN ALL YOUR SELFIES ARE TAGGED #NATURAL #NOFILTER #LOVEURSELF WHEN THERE IS CLEARLY MORE PLASTIC IN YOUR BODY THAN IN A TUPPERWARE CONTAINER. BUT I DIGRESS.

IN ANY CASE, WITH HER LATEST PLASTIC SURGERY FLOP, IT'S EASY TO SEE WHY THIS EX OF CODY'S ACCIDENTALLY OD'ED. I WOULD HAVE TOO IF MY NOSE LOOKED LIKE THAT. SO ALL IM SAYING IS...SHE NEEDS TO GET A BETTER DOCTOR ASAP-PREFERABLY ONE WITH ETHICS-OR BYE-BYE VOGUE COVERS, OD'ing OR NOT.

(...THOUGH IT'S NOT LIKE SHE WAS GETTING ANY IN THE FIRST PLACE).

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For further inquiries, please contact Christina Li at 571-123-4567 or by email, [e-mail].

Chrissy read over it once, loaded it up into an email, and sent it to Andrew. There. It had been a productive day.

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J O H N D O Y L E

^{Collab between @Saint Maxx and @Ruler Inc}
The Boardwalk.

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So he had something in a box that they couldn't open - exactly what Makoto and REAPER needed! All they had to do was infiltrate the police station steal it, and they'd find a way to open it without damaging the contents and-

"How...exactly did you find me?"

And for all of Makoto's experience and ego, she overlooked one small detail that would have totally made or break her disguise. One thing that almost made her visibly flinch and thankfully she had the experience and intelligence to know such an act would basically be saying "Oh hey, I'm a liar, come shoot me!" While she got what she came for, more or less, she didn't want to blow her cover in the event that she has to deal with John again. Of course, Makoto had the perfect plan, she always did, after all. She smiled, as she said,

"Well, I am a great detective, after all," Makoto broke out into laughter as she had a hand to her mouth. "Oh, no; I was just in the area; there's a FAMA agent or two I need to talk with and I just so happened to come across you."

Perfect! Hopefully, her attempts at acting unsure of who he was at first would seal the deal.

Doyle was quick to join her in chuckling, the crow feet 'round his eyes tightening as he did. "'Course, course," he agreed with a short nod. After listening to Old Man Robbie's horrific excuse for jokes for the last ten years, John had gotten pretty good at faking a laugh. Somebody that knew him well could tell the difference, but to a stranger, it'd more than all likelihood sounds genuine enough. He shifted in his seat again, facing sideways so he could get away with looking out over the Boardwalk. Maybe he was an old, married man that didn't like making eye contact with a younger lady. Or maybe he was looking for these 'FAMA agents' that Detective Rose had supposed come by to see. It was hard to tell at a glance, and Doyle didn't give her much time before he was on the move again.

"That's actually quite the coincidence," he began, his eyes shifting back to examine hers, "I've been meanin' to get in contact with the feds about this same case. S'posed to talk to 'em at some point while I'm down here. Any chance you could introduce me? I always like to talk to the field guys when I'm tryin' to get a feel for a place. Too much bureaucratic, political crap when you're talkin' to the big dogs, y'know?" Doyle chuckled again before easing back into his seat, waiting to see how the detective would respond.

This was a tough one, Makoto had a strong feeling that John was catching onto her. He was a very smart man so that meant she had to be smarter. She had a brilliant plan cooking in her head, and she probably did the last thing John was expecting her to.

"... Of course," Makoto said with a smile. "They probably aren't here yet, though - but I'd love for all of us to be introduced to each other."

Doyle paused. He kept a slight, warm grin plastered to his face, but the gears in the back of his mind were busy turning. He could concede and return back to the hotel to shut his eyes for a little while. Alternatively, he was already thinking about sticking around for this 'festival' he'd heard about- at best he'd have company while he waited. At worst he ends up calling the bluff of some asshole cop that's been having him tailed since he left the station. It wasn't a hard decision to make, all in all.

"Sounds like a plan!" John announced, lightly slapping his palm down on the table. "I tell you what, I'm pretty hungry and I've got some extra cash to burn. Why don't I buy us lunch while we wait?" He asked, his grin growing longer as he felt himself growing closer to a victory. He might'a believed in the good Lord, but that didn't mean he believed in coincidences. And havin' some big city cop just stumble across him only an hour after that hairy conversation with Morgan was too much of a coincidence for his taste.z

Makoto just needed the bastard to turn his head for a second and she'd dive into a crowd or something. The only problem was that, again, he was a lot sharper than he looked. 'Course, she had a feeling that, while he suspected bullshit, he had no reason to believe that she was with REAPER unless there's something else the mighty Foundation Woman missed something else. Which was something she was going to take advantage of.

Lazy bastard.

Those were long terms that would be irrelevant. Makoto thought that maybe, maybe, it wouldn't be such a bad thing if he finds her out, so to speak. "Sure thing, I do not mind what we eat, long as it's good!" She smiled again. "I may have to make a phone call real quick, however."

"Sure thing." John pushed his seat out a way, making sure that eye contact only wavered every few seconds. People could feign and lie with their eyes for a while, but they were always the first sign that something was amiss. They'd be the first clue that something was wrong. "I'll go order while you do that. Anything you want in particular?"

"Could I get chicken tenders? Or a burger?" If Makoto was correct; John was anticipating her doing something, making some bold move to escape while his back was turned. The first rule to REAPER spying was subverting expectations above all else! Well, technically it was "don't get caught" but that was common sense! If John had half a brain he'd already been expecting the whole "they rescheduled" excuse, but her new plan was making him think she was bullshitting him to divert him from the truth. She pulled out her phone and typed in a few numbers before she put it up to her ear without even hitting call. Heh. She waited just a few seconds before she began speaking.

"Hello, hello, Fujiko Rose speaking," Makoto started off in her conversation... with nobody. "Can I speak with special investigator Williams?" It'd be funny if there actually was a special investigator Williams, but that was beside the point. The rest of the "conversation" was mere idle chatter before finishing it with. "Oooh, I see. Okay, it's fine with me, tell me when you want to reschedule, okay? Sure, goodbye." After Makoto "hung up" the phone, she stepped over to John and lightly tapped him on the shoulder with a smile.

"Ooooh, it seems my contact had an emergency somewhere in the city and had to cancel our meeting," Makoto started off, "If you'd like, I can give you a number to get in touch with them, but I think I'll get a move on...."

Take the bait, take the bait... Makoto had to think to herself as she tried to pull this bullshit. She was bullshitting bullshit! She should patent that shit.

He'd been dragging his feet to actually get into line, taking an extended period to 'decide what he wanted' while he eavesdropped on Rose's phone call. It picked up almost immediately, and she had a very fast-paced conversation with a 'Special Investigator Williams' that Doyle made a mental note to check up on later. Rescheduling wasn't exactly an anomaly in this line of work. Cops were constantly busy, and federal cops were somehow busier than that. However, after everything else that the detective had pulled? There was no way in hell that was genuine.

John turned around when he felt her tap him on the shoulder, his grin going so wide as to be comical in and of itself as she continued to weave her little story. "Just our luck, right?" He shrugged. It was by now that he'd dropped any pretense of pulling this woman's chain: there was a smug knowingness about him that was impossible to miss. "You really should tell your boss to send someone a little, ah, subtler next time." He chuckled again, his hands going to rest on his hips. "I might look like a dumb hick, miss, but y'know what they say about books and covers."

For a second; Makoto's heart started racing as she thought he had seen through the cover straight and knows she's a REAPER... but had to calm herself.

She needed to get information, then freak out!

"... I don't know what you're talking about," Makoto answered, feigning surprise and trying to play the part of a girl caught up in a lie. "I was just in the neighborhood, that's all. This is a... coincidence." She tried to play off her suspicions that he knew that she was a REAPER - at least until he says something.

He'd sprung the trap, and now she was floundering in it. It was always a beautiful moment to see someone try to squirm when they knew they'd been found out. The guilt on her face was as clear as day to John. He considered just sending her on her way with some choice words. Let Morgan chew her out for getting caught so easily by some dumbass small-town sheriff. But given how much time he had on his hands, and just how hard she'd tried to get away from this...What the hell.

Wasn't any harm in having some fun with it and maybe learning a thing or two.

"Why don't you take a seat?" John took a couple of steps toward the table and pulled her chair out, keeping his eyes on her as he moved. He quite intentionally kept his body between her and the exit for the time being. "Let's have a chat before this gets too outta hand. I'm sure you've got a good explanation for all'a this, Detective Rose. Right?"

"... Right," Makoto feigned shame as she was still trying to figure out if he guessed she's REAPER - well, there wasn't any reason for him to, but she had to keep the possibility up there. For now, she was Detective Rose... and she was caught for being a "shitty detective". "Fine, Mr. Hansen." She couldn't resist making the joke as she had a seat next to John.

"Fine, since I... gravely underestimated you, Sheriff Doyle," Makoto formally accepted defeat. "Let me give it to you like this; I've been ordered to follow you and ask you some questions about the case - I don't know - they don't believe you're telling the whole story." Makoto shook her head.

"Personally... I don't see you working with Warmonger, at all, but... what do they say? Orders are orders."

"It's...John. Not-" Doyle just shook his head, unsure if that was a joke that went over his head or if they'd screwed up so badly that the woman following him didn't even have the last name right. Given her performance here, though, he couldn't say it would surprise him. He deigned not to take a seat quite yet, choosing instead to lean on the table in front of her. A common tactic during interrogations. There was almost a primal instinct in humans to bend to power dynamics like this, so even inexperienced agents- like a police detective, in this instance- it'd be worth employing.

He crossed his arms over his chest, his expression darkening in nearly an instant as the seriousness of the situation took over. She'd been ordered to follow him and question him further about the case. She'd asked just about the same thing that Morgan had, so Doyle had to assume the idea was that the sheriff would spill his guts to Rose instead of Morgan because of of...what? She was pretty? He was almost insulted. "Right. Got that impression from your boss the first go around. I figured him for an asshole, though. Not a dumbass. This? This might change that." He sighed. His first real day in Charity Beach and he was already feeling the weight of the politicking and the bullshit on his shoulders. This was gonna be a long stay.

'Working with Warmonger.'

That was the phrase she used. It brought up the heat in Doyle's cheeks that flared up almost the moment he registered the sentence. Wrath wasn't the sin that John was the quickest to, but that kind of accusation made his blood boil. He unfolded his arms and slowly lowered himself closer to the detective, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Aldrich killed three of my friends. I watched him tear them limb from limb with his bare hands, right in front of me." John spoke carefully, as if on the razor's edge of bursting into a yell. He had to fight to keep himself contained at such a notion. "I don't know what about me putting a bullet through his eye makes you think I might've been working with him, but whatever it is, you're pretty God damn wrong, little lady."

Hook, line, and sinker. Not a single mention of REAPER, so Makoto was all clear; and again she had to fight the urge to sigh in relief. However, she had a part to play, and the REAPER knew her life depended on it. The sigh that escaped from her was not one of relief but of guilt and shame. "I don't think that you were working with Warmonger, it just makes no sense," Makoto started off, softly saying, "I get the feeling Morgan is hiding something, I'm not sure what, from us."

His anger fizzled out quickly. It was difficult to hold on to when the woman he was snarling at didn't have any skin in this game. Doyle brought a hand to rub up against his face as he pushed off the table so he could stand upright. "Yeah. Got that feeling myself." He admitted, letting himself drop back down into his seat. Morgan knew something about that case and its contents that John didn't, and he was more than a little invested in finding whatever it was. The only question left was what his motives were, and if Doyle could actually trust him. If he was having him followed...it didn't bode well for the detective.

"What do you n' your people know about that case?" John pivoted, hoping he could grab a little more information from her. "Certainly more'n I do."

What did she know about the case? Makoto had a few... options to play with here. But, sending Sheriff Doyle on a wild goose chase was the best option for Makoto. By the time he figures things out, "Fujiko Rose" will be in California! Ha! Makoto, though, knew she couldn't get cocky.

In her line of work; cockiness equals stupidity.

"I don't know much more than you do about the case," Makoto said, "But, I know that, during Aldrich's rampage through Charity Beach, he did a lot more than rob banks. I don't know the details because Morgan is keeping them to himself. I think it has something to do with one of the science firms in town...."

John reached into his pocket and plucked out a small notebook and a pen he carried with him everywhere. Physical notes always felt more meaningful to him than any of that digital garbage they had today. He flicked the pen open and looked up, meeting Rose's gaze once again. "You got a name for that firm?" He already had the list of banks that Warmonger had hit- everybody did, considering just how much destruction followed when Aldrich tried to rob someone. But there was never any mention of a laboratory. It could be the lead John needed to sniff out whatever it was Morgan was trying to hide.

"Creative Solutions Scientific Co." It was a random name that Makoto came up with - especially sense she knows John doesn't have a phone to look it up.

He quickly jotted down the name, adding a couple of lines of notes just underneath it. "Right. Thank ya for that." Doyle returns the notes to his pocket, satisfied with all he'd learned. Without much else to do here but continue to torture the poor woman, he decided to stand back up, offering her a hand and a triumphant grin. "It's been fun, Detective, but you've no doubt got places to be..."

"Places to be," Makoto cheerfully said. "Crimes to solve. Ha!" She made her own little corny joke before she stood straight up.

"No doubt," He chuckled. "You have yourself a blessed day, ma'am. I'll see ya around."

"You too," Makoto said as she finally walked away from Mr. John... he was a smart cookie, to say the least, but his types are still... green, none the less. He had no experience dealing with the likes of Makoto and REAPER and so that made this easier than it should have. Now all she had to do was make sure that Mr. John plays his part and stays out of REAPER's hair for the duration of her trip. Makoto pulled out her phone and hit contacts before she hit contact on her phone that said Cousin Micheal. Hitting call was easy and she placed the phone onto her ear as she waited for a response.

"Hello, Makoto," The Foundation Woman on the other end said.

"Oh, hi mom," Makoto playfully said as she walked back to the streets of Charity Beach. "I got the groceries."

After a few seconds, the Foundation Woman answered, "Excellent. Can you do a favor for me, before you go home?"

"Yeah, mom?" Makoto said.

"I'm going to text you a place in Spaniard Town I want you to go, it's time you meet your new boss."

---

---

After months of preparation, the annual event was underway. The Charity Beach Festival 2019! An event that was hosted once a year since 1998, and has been canceled only once (due to a hurricane hitting the city). It's a massive party that spans the downtown section of Charity Beach all the way to the beach, and the streets are lined with loud music and food. Above all else, on the beach itself a huge stage has been set up; where the mayor of Charity Beach has somehow, somehow, got a famous singer to come. Which has attracted people from all over the states... and gotten quite a bit of money into the city's pockets.

---

Downtown.

---

It was beautiful here!

After the whole incident with the robot and the REAPER, Drake went back to headquarters as Henry instructed and reported the whole thing. He left out the robot for its sake... but he has a feeling he should go look for the bot. He had a strong feeling that the last thing he wants is a murder bot with guns running around that can explode the head of REAPERs. What if the thing goes on a fritz and kills a bunch of people? Drake would... feel personally accountable for it because he didn't fry the bastard then and there. Ugh. If only the situation was different! Maybe another time; when he found Henry he would have a talk with the lizardman about what happened.

For now, Drake was eager to get back to work for FAMA, even though he was on "vacation" the director of this branch of FAMA asked him to keep an eye on the festival. And even though he didn't appreciate being a glorified security guard, he couldn't pass up a golden opportunity to make face in Charity Beach. Especially the since he's legendary Agent Dragon! He was wearing his typical FAMA armor that covered him from head to toe in all black as he wore gauntlets, vests, and whatnot - with lightning painted all over it. All nice and cleaned up from that fight with Abel gone wrong, and he was looking sharp.

However, the director set up two rules: no helmets, nothing bigger than a pistol. Which was dumb in a practical sense, but smart from a PR perspective. Drake merely stood by a stand as there were hundreds of people here... from everywhere really. Drake knew that a bunch of guys toting around guns in helmets would give the wrong image and push more people towards the ideology of the Savior Foundations and the "Metas are bad" rhetoric he heard so much. But, they have a much less threatening image in armor and having more subdued weapons at their disposal.

Then again, only a bunch of fools would pull anything... or REAPER. But, it didn't fit the M.O of REAPER in his opinion. Either way, it was time for Drake to go on patrol. He found himself a path where the crowds weren't so thick as he marched through it. There were all sorts of people here! Including some hot babes... Oh, yeah. He had to remember what Adam told him again. What was it? Oh yeah, as an Agent of RAVEN (or FAMA in this situation), he had a reputation or layer of professionalism he had to upkeep. Even if he didn't like it, or would rather be talking to a girl than walking around with a gun in this hot ass armor... he was, right now, the face of FAMA.

Though, he passed someone with their hands in their face as they twitched. He didn't get a good look at them - by the time he whipped around they were gone - but he had a bad feeling about them. But the crowd was so thick and mobile that he was unlikely to find them. For now... he was going to ignore that gut feeling and focus on another gut feeling of his; his stomach! Drake went to one of the hotdogs stand as he looked around at the menu.

When it was his turn he raised his finger at the hot-dog stand owner, an older man with a bushy beard and gut... almost like he's been eating a lil' too much of his own supply. Either way, Drake smiled as he said, "Hey, what can I get for you?"

"Hey, can I get an all-beef hotdog with sauerkraut?" Drake asked with a warming smile.

"For you," The man said as he reached inside to pull out a hotdog and put the various fixings on it. "It's free."

"You don't gotta," Drake said with a smile.

"No, I insist." The hot-dog dealer said with a smile.

Drake's eyes drifted towards his tip jar as he fished some money out of his pocket and put ten dollars in there. Way more than the hotdog, but Drake saw himself as the gift that kept on giving. The man looked thankful as Drake turned away and walked off, squirting ketchup on the hotdog. Taking a bite, he was instantly satisfied.

He just needed to find Henry.

---

^@Junkmail
On a highway downtown.

---

After Amanda's little breakdown, they decided that they'd take it slow. One step at a time. Amanda wanted to get to know the brand new Matt, but was he eager to learn about the new Amanda? What was more pressing was that; does he want to date the new Amanda? She wanted to date the new Matt, but at the same time, she didn't. She wasn't sure about it just yet. He suggested they go to the beach festival to go meet a friend of his; Israel he calls him? Whenever she heard his name, she couldn't help but think of that Denzel Washington movie. It sucked being a film buff sometimes! Though Amanda was excited to meet the dude, she wanted to get closer to Dexter above all else. Making up for lost time was the reason why she came here! The car ride was... regrettably, very quiet and uncomfortable; and when she was in quiet and uncomfortable situations there was one retreat for her: her phone.

The girl adjusted her hair in a playful pose as she put on a warming smile as she snapped a quick picture of herself. Instead of putting a bunch of filters on it; she placed the text CHARITY BEACH FESTIVAL #2019 and hit send. She decided to browse her Instagram briefly as she tried to distract herself from facing the truth. She scrolled down through selfies from her friends and family (When is that bastard Drake gonna post something!).

There was one picture of Charles (Or as he went by online CharliBmore), her younger brother with similarly spikey hair, wearing a white t-shirt and... jorts. Fucking jorts. She thought that she made it clear the last time jorts weren't allowed in the Blackmore family. At least, he looked kinda cute for once, doing a pose with a hand behind his head. He didn't put a caption on, lazy bastard. Well, Amanda scrolled through various selfies from her friends and family until she landed on one.

It featured her cousin, SwarmQueen_01, or Nikki. She was a cute lil' Asian thing that always dressed like a tomboy with short black hair... Amanda thought she would look so much better if she would stop cutting her hair and covering up that rack of hers. However, in this photo, she a massive wasp in her hand that looked like a tarantula wasp... and it was larger than her fist. She was holding it in her hand like it was nothing, and it had the caption: Too fat to fly :( Back to the drawing board.

Which made Amanda chuckle... Nikki was always mad sciencing stuff. However, Amanda thought it was too cool to keep to herself.. and perhaps part of her was desperate to break the silence. "Hey, Matt, remember cousin Nikki?" When the car came to a stop, Amanda put the phone over to Matthew and showed him the picture.

"Look what she cooked up in that lab of hers. Freaky, ain't it."

Charity Beach: Paradise Gone [Semi-Sandbox/Superhuman]

---

^{@Saint Maxx}
The Boardwalk.

---

To the point old man, I like it.

The thought almost immediately popped up in Makoto's head when he asked what it was all about. She had to keep that signature smile off her face as she took a seat next to him. She briefly looked around as she crossed her legs - there were hundreds of different people here on vacation here! Kids were skating past her... but the best part was that none of them were paying any attention to them. So, long as she keeps a low profile they'd go about their days as if they didn't hear anything!

"Ah, to the point, I see," Makoto - or rather her alias Fujiko - said with a warm smile. "I'll do the same; it concerns the Warmonger case..." She trailed off for a moment as she waited to see his reaction. Warmonger was a sore spot for a lot of people -, especially in this city. He had quite a silly name - like he was a comic book villain! - but because of his actions, he was quite feared regardless of it. If he didn't go down he would have been perfect for REAPER - but Abel and the Foundation woman had a change of heart given how easily he went down.

Oh well.

Makoto continued with her explanation, "We have reason to believe that Warmonger and his crew were in possession of a lot more than the money he stole from the bank... but nothing has been found yet. Did you see anything like another member of his crew or anyone suspicious in the area? Or did you see anything else... suspicious or otherwise in the motel room he was held up in?"

It was a simple set of questions... she had to play up the ignorant angle a bit more. Of course, if he was smart he would start questioning her, but nothing Makoto hasn't handled before. Worse comes to worst, she'll have to get a little... aggressive to get what she wants. Long as she gets her information "Fujiko Rose" will disappear and when he asks the CBPD they won't have a clue in their heads what he's talking about.

Nomadic Fist: Radiant Soul (A Fighting Game RPG!)

---

Zun - Airport.

---

Yoko couldn't find a Nomad that didn't look stupid or too much of an asshole to pay her any mind. Oi! This was annoying! The young Nomad wondered where the hell all those powerful, wise, Nomads that her grandfather told her about are. Because they aren't here!

Though she was paying some mind to the ki signatures in the room and when she walked by a pair of... Americans, she couldn't help but shudder when she sensed the dark in them. During training with grandfather, he had Yoko go to places with dark auras in Japan so she can get a "taste" of the dark ki. He told her it was so she could learn what evil spirits signatures looked like so she wouldn't be caught off guard or deceived. Pausing for a moment, Yoko looked at the two and realized that they looked like the weakest pair of pansies she ever laid eyes upon!

Well, if the tournament was a bust and she couldn't get any information on the sword; she might as well get an entertaining fight! After all, she was always searching for ways to improve herself and her fighting style for when the real threats come around. While they were talking, Yoko slammed her staff onto the ground loudly to catch their attention.

"A-hem!" Yoko loudly said as she put a hand to her mouth. "Hello, my name is Hatanaka Yoko! The greatest warrior in all of Japan!" She introduced herself before she continued. "Slayer of demons... which I noticed you are in possession of!"

Yoko pointed her staff at Beelzebub... drinking coffee. Truly a being of pure evil! It must be slain at once.

"I will purge you two of its vile influence!"

---

Zun - Docks.

---

"Hey! Watch where you're going you psycho!"

When Aiko heard this, she ominously stopped the motorcycle which silently shook for a few moments as Aiko had her back to the Canadian. Calvin was probably confused as to what was going on until Aiko craned her head around towards him, loudly shouting.

"... WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU JUST FUCKING SAY TO ME, MOTHERFUCKER?!"

Aiko gave Calvin a murderous glare as she waited for his response. Which she hoped involved him running away, pissing himself, or else he'll be running away pissing blood.