Fallenreaper

Create-A-Hero: A Superhero RPG Season 2- New Horizons (Closed)

Stuff should either be up or worked on tomorrow. I have a few things in the pipeline

@nitemare shape

I hope they didn't get stuck.

[Teya VI, 6 ATC 4] The Solo Disaster

Aboard the Serith, en route to Korriban
Kurin Tonaal, Mahree Mis-Ede, Dashara Horizon

---

"That's better than fi-" Dash stopped in the middle of her sentence.

Her expression hardened. She had spotted a man enter the cargo bay, a familiar mask and black robes betrayed his origins. The Sith. He was carrying two trays with food causing her hunger pains to rattled once more.

Without wasting much time, she moved her legs underneath her and pushed upright. Her figure turned to face him with a defensive posture. Instinctively her hand rested near her blade, ready to draw it if needed.

When he saw her prepare to draw her weapon Kurin smiled underneath his mask. “Go ahead. Draw that blade. Attack the energy field.” he said before pausing for a second. “Or you can attack this food. One will hurt for you, the other will relieve pain.” He put down one of the trays on a crate, then passed the other through to one cell, shutting the hatch afterwards, before proceeding to take up the first tray again and send that into the other cell.

Mahree's attention turned to the entrance to the hold once Dash suddenly stopped speaking. The younger girl felt herself closing up again. Fear setting in just at the sight of the Sith. She pulled her knees back towards her chest and wrapped her arms around them, burying half of her face once more.

“Had I wished you harm then you would not have been standing where you are. In fact, I have a small challenge for you.” He pulled a crate over, then sat down on it, right before both cells. There was no need to make any threats. He was fairly certain that the cell kept the second girl’s pheromones firmly in check, should she be trying to release them. But even if that were the case, he had instructed his crew to wear breathing masks on going into the hold, just in case.

Dash kept her eyes on Kurin. She looked unfazed by his small taunt and facts, but it was easy to tell she wanted to retort. When Kurin moved from the cell and sat, her stiffness fell away. Her blade hand reached for the tray before she walked back to the uncomfortable cot.

She paused to look at Mahree causing her expression to soften into sympathy briefly.

It was pretty basic food fare. Re-hydrated rations with a single utensil and crackers, obviously prepackaged. At least the quality was better than some cases she had suffered through. Deciding not to be picky, she lowered herself onto the mattress.

Her empathy reached out to the younger girl, once more trying to calm and comfort her fear.

"Challenge, uh? And why should we rise to it?" She addressed Kurin, picking through the food and eating a bit.

“Why not? Is sitting here bemoaning your current circumstances more entertaining? There are several days left on our journey yet, and you’re not getting out of those cells until it is over.” He let them eat a little before he continued. “The challenge is simple, really. All you need to do is stack these crates.” he pointed to the haphazardly scattered crates behind him. “None of the small crates are mag-locked to the deck.”

He pointed first to Mahree, then to Dashara. “You can take the blue crates, and you can take the red ones.”

Cargo hold layout

Mahree raised her head from her knees, glancing to the fold before looking at Kurin. "And what game is this? she asked, glaring at him before glancing over at Dash, wondering what she thought of his 'challenge'.

Dash's lips pressed tighter, pausing from her second bit. She caught Mahree's look and nodded, a soft gesture to approve the question. Her stomach had already eased its pain to a more tolerable level now.

She set the tray aside for the moment, part of her meal gone. Her interest was sparked and she scrutinized Kurin before she relaxed.

"Fair enough point, but I suspect you'll be disappointed. Those crates are a bit too heavy for me."

“Not if you use the Force.” he retorted succinctly.

With a purposeful and half-hearted attempt, Dash's hand reached out toward the red crates. The top one jiggled but it never lifted far. Instead, it slid off the other crate onto the floor. Much to her disappointment, it never busted open.

"What else would I be lifting it with? You already stated we’re not getting out of these cells." Dash shoved the facts right back at him, even using the same words he did.

He watched her clearly half-hearted attempt. Even a child half her age could do better given basic knowledge of how to do it. “Do it again, only this time you don’t hold back in a paltry attempt to look weak. Such antics will no avail you at the academy.” He frowned at her attempt to be sarcastic. “I suggest thinking your words through before you make statements in the future. Especially when you know they are statements that a child can see the blatant faults in.”

Another spike of hate reared before she pushed it down.

"And you wonder why people think you're monsters," she muttered, loud enough for him to hear.

She adjusted her posture, working out the tingling sensation. Her hand brushed her long bangs away while she continued.

"I'm not really sure why you're bothering."

After a moment, she inhaled and exhaled again. She held her hand out again, but she hesitated and just dropped her arm.

"The weight hadn't changed so it's not going to change the result."

“Weight,” he told the girl “is irrelevant.” He pointed behind him, lifting the largest crate up, then dropped it sharply down to the deck from a few centimeters up. He estimated that it weighed several metric tons, so the sharp thunk as it impacted was not what anyone would call inaudible.

“If hating me pleases you, then feel free to do so. I do not mind.”

“But if you are to hate me, use your hatred. Do not let it use you. That is where the Jedi fail. They are afraid of their emotions, so they run from them, push them down, when they should be in command. Think about those who have hurt you. Truly hurt you. Imagine what you would do to them if you had them at your mercy. Channel the feelings that gives you and you will have power at your disposal. Power unlike any other.”

Dash held her hand up to stop him speaking farther, "I don't hate you, just the fact you stole my freedom. It's really hard to want to listen to a captor. Especially when it doesn't change anything."

She inhaled, "Jedi aren't weak, they are just liars. Sort of like Sith. And don't lecture me about emotions. One of the phrases grilled into my head was: You should never be ruled by your emotions."

“You claim that Sith are liars, but when have I lied to you, hmm?” He shifted a little on his crate. “Someone told you Sith lie, and condemn all of them as liars, not even having met one.” He continued, “The Jedi are afraid of us Sith. How do I know this? Time and again, they have tried to wipe us out. Last time, they almost succeeded. Yet do you hear stories about that in the republic? No.”

“As for that lesson you have been drilled with? It will serve you well in the academy. It lead you down the path to greatness.”

Dash glared at the red crate. "I don't want power, I want freedom. And say my emotions will set me free, I will counter that they haven't managed to do that here."

He looked straight at her, though the effect was somewhat limited by his mask. “I did not steal your freedom. Your greed did. I merely brought you to justice.” as he said that, he pulled out a lightsaber, one that would be very familiar to her. “I put considerable effort into this one. I could not simply leave it behind.”

"I trust her better than you, though we'll likely never cross paths again." Dash defended her friend, even if she was wrong. Her body was facing him now and slouched over, assertive in her posture. Her legs folded under her while she watched the Sith.

“The fact that this woman you speak of did not turn you over to the Jedi implies that she is no longer part of them herself. A wise choice. As for your paths never crossing again. How can you be sure? Even the Emperor cannot predict the future with utter certainty. Perhaps I will have your past looked into so that this woman can be brought into the fold if she is willing?”

“You leave her out of this,” Dash growled.

Her skin reddened slightly as she glared at him.

When she spotted the lightsaber, she cursed. Her head lowered as she spoke, realization was clear in her voice.

"I knew something was wrong with it. The hilt was Jedi, but it had a red blade. Jedi don’t use red crystals. You put out bait and I fell for it."

“To the contrary young feisty one, Jedi do use red crystals. It is rare, but it happens. Foolish of them, considering the simple fact that red crystals are innately more powerful. But then they are Jedi. Proof enough of them being foolish. We Sith do not use them due to tradition. We use them because they are more powerful. Why use anything less than the best tool for the job?”

Mahree sat in her cell silently while Dash and the Sith shot at each other, back and forth, each one trying to outweigh the other with their words and justifications. The girl’s head buried deeper into the space between her chest and her legs, eyes shut tightly as she tried to tune both of them out. She didn’t want to play their captor’s little game, but in the end, did she have a choice? Would he do anything if they both blatantly refused?

Mahree was hesitant to play along. What if she could lift the crates as well as he expected? What kind of label would that put on her?

She couldn’t help but wonder just how well she could move the crates, however. Could she use on as a weapon? If she could throw it fast enough, maybe it would strike their captor before he noticed. There would be no telling how well it would work though, until Mahree could get a feel for the crates.

One arm moved slowly as she rested that hand next to her, on the floor of the cell. She reached out then, and tried to make it as inconspicuous as possible, as she focused the Force, feeling for one of the crates at the opposite side of the room.

She was still for now, playing around with what she could feel, barely moving the crate as she tested out her abilities while the other two bickered amongst themselves.

Kurin turned to look at the other detainee. He felt her struggling attempt to use the Force. “Focus on the one who hurt you. Who killed your family. Imagine your revenge. Use that to fuel your telekinesis. It will help.” Some would no doubt imagine him lying about that, but he was completely honest. He did wonder what they would do next. Probably something foolish.

Mahree took a deep breath as she listened to Kurin’s words. It felt ironic to her. Here he was, a Sith, trying to teach her how to focus her telekinesis in order to move an object - telling her to use revenge as a source of power. When in fact it was a Sith who took her and made her a captive.

“Why do you think I would listen to anything you have to say?” Mahree began, her hands tightening as the girl stood up suddenly, keeping focus on the crate she sensed as she eyed Kurin. “It was a Sith who put me here in the first place, why would I listen to anything you have to say?!” The girl screamed, her arm swinging around hard as her telekinetic grip on the crate sent it flying towards Kurin.

“You know as well as I do that is a lie. Slavers killed your family, took you captive to sell on the hutt markets. A Sith associate of mine had unfinished business with those slavers. After they died for their sins they set the slavers’ cargo free. You, being a Force-sensitive orphan with nowhere to return to, he decided to send to me so that I could bring you to Korriban for training.” He casually caught the crate moments before impact, holding it in place while feeling her push against his strength. “Good. Use that anger.” He pushed the crate back to test her strength of will.

Dash’s head jerked at the crate’s flight. Her teeth gritted as she watched Mahree lose her temper, the meek and dispirited girl showing she had bite. The only bad thing, Dash didn’t have much time to appreciate it before a wall of hatred slammed into her emotions. Her calm shattered like glass from a thrown rock.

Every muscle in Dash’s body tensed at the alien emotions flooding her own. Her breathing increased, trying to retain some bit of control and failing quickly. In the back of her mind, she regretted forgetting to shut off her empathy.

Kurin smiled as Mahree fought back against his test of strength. It was clear that she wanted to challenge him, that she would fight back for as long as it took. While this was not the exact test he had originally intended, it was a good test nonetheless of her strength and determination. He was, in many ways, proud of her for using the anger. “Yes! Continue pushing... Draw on that strength! Feel its power!”

From the side he sensed how her anger seemed to be bleeding over into the mind of the empath. Or at least, that was the most probable source, given that he sensed sudden growing anger from her too. Turning to look at the empath, he saw how she struggled to rein herself in. Futilely.

He spoke to her specifically. “Use that anger! Don’t run from it. Do not let it go to waste! Channel it into something useful!” He thought for a fraction of a second on where she might channel it effectively. “Crush the box I am sitting on!” he said to challenge her.

Dash gritted her teeth harder before she forced herself to speak, ”You might get crushed instead…”

The moment the words slipped out, her own anger shot up another level. She needed to get this under control and fast.

Hearing the Inquisitor challenge them put Mahree further on edge. She maintained her focus on the crate that was suspended next to Kurin, pushing back as hard as she could while her anger only grew.

The sweet girl that seemed to have lost her way, ever since she had been in the hands of Sith, seemed to disappear. Instead Mahree felt everything between anger and grief, threatening to overtake her as the Sith in front of her challenged she and Dash.

The girl pushed harder on the suspended crate while her free hand reached out. She took the man's challenge and began to shatter the crate herself. Slowly it started to crack and twist under her influence. Mahree couldn't help as her anger grew. She had so many emotions built up inside and this was the first time she was able to express them.

“Mahree… calm down a bit.” Dash nearly pled, but knew her words wouldn’t reach the girl.

There was too much pain there, piled on from the sense of loss and suffering linked to dead parents. A pain she had felt herself once. She had to get rid of this anger as bottling it up would only lead to more chaos in her heart, something that never ended well.

Dash held out her hand toward the crate the Sith sat on. Her fingers curled and her mind drifted to memories she wished she didn’t have, fueling the fire already spreading through her. While she had a notion she could’ve controlled and determined what was crushed, she didn’t. For a split second, Kurin’s face wasn’t his own. In her mind, it represented far more and a man at the root of it all. A representation of her entrapment.

Pressure began to push on the crate. The outside began to crumble against the raw power surrounding it. It started with with dents and grew in strength. Truthfully, she rarely used anger in her force manipulations. Neith had warned how it would corrupt her if she did.

Dash wondered if it even mattered now. Tears of hot anger pooled at her eyes and trickled down her cheeks, but she didn’t seem to notice.

Slowly Kurin began to feel the crate vibrate as the two detainees pushed on it, trying to crush it. At first, nothing more happened, but eventually it would give in, crumble under their combined efforts. The durable design of it was designed specifically to protect anything within, so it took time. He shifted his weight back onto his legs, know that while it might be amusing to them if he fell over, it would not be be comfortable, let alone beneficial to the lesson he was teaching them.

He felt the momentary efforts from the empathy to also crush him, but while it had a certain amount of raw strength it was unrefined and imprecise due to her incomplete training. Not nearly enough to break through his defenses. It had potential, though. What sort of foolish jedi lesson had that woman she spoke of imprinted upon her?

Mahree didn’t hold back. She both heard and saw the crate starting to deform, so she kept pushing. Mahree didn’t hear Dash’s words at all. All of her rage and fury was focused on Kurin and the crate he sat upon. After a few more moments, the crate suddenly shattered. Mahree released her telekinetic influence on it and instead focused solely on the crate she was attempting to hit Kurin with.

Dash's eyes were burning through the haze of tears and bitterness, anger filled her mind. She continued to focus on the crate even after it cracked, bent and twisted through the girls' efforts. Kurin had moved by now, but she didn't care. An inanimate object was better than a living target right now.

Desperation filled her as she did the last thing she wanted: pled for it to stop.

"S-s-stop her... please."

It was a sign of weakness and she knew it. At this point she couldn't stop Mahree on her own or shut off the empathy. Every time she tied, more rage just plowed into her thoughts and distracted her. She didn't know how much more she could stand at this rate.

It was not hard at all for Kurin to see that the rage had begun to consume the non-empath. She had raw power aplenty, but she still lacked control of it. He actually had to put a bit more into holding the crate back out, though he suspect if this went on much longer, that too would crumple. The empath was equally out of control, though for other reasons. For her, the non-empath’s rage was too overwhelming. She didn’t know enough about the technique to block it all out.

They both needed training. Considerable training. All of this proved to him again that their being transported to Korriban was right. He reached out with his other hand, pushing hard on her, forcing her backwards to the energy field behind her. The cells were not configured to cause much pain currently but the shock should jolt her out of her rage. It was either that or something more harmful. Not at all a difficult choice. If necessary, he would do the same to the Empath.

Mahree, still blinded by her rage and grief, fought back against Kurin’s telekinetic push. She was forced back into the field of the cage, a sudden electric shock overtaking her body as his push momentarily held her there.

Her fury pushed on though.

The young girl pushed back against Kurin’s influence while still being shocked by the cell’s electric field. One hand held out, she pushed hard, trying with all the strength of will she could muster - trying knock Kurin down, to make him pay. Trying to achieve some sort of revenge for the grief the slavers and the Sith had caused.

It was quickly clear that the energy field did not jolt her out of her full-blown rage. “Sit down, Acolyte.” he said firmly, turning his push into full stasis. He then pulled her over and down onto the bed in a seated position. It would no doubt anger her somewhat to be controlled like that, but at this point it was necessary if he wished to avoid harming her significantly. With her body restrained like that, the force on the hovering crate broke and he let it fall down. “You have let your anger consume you. You need to rule it, not let it rule you.” His voice at this point was clearly one of authority, of command, rather than the more casual tone from earlier. Once he had her seated, he altered the stasis to allow speech.

When Mahree's rage stopped, Dash's figure drifted to the cot's side and fell off. She hit the cell's floor hard. Her arms wrapped about her head as her legs tucked in, curled up into a pitiful ball. Her lungs were breathing hard while her mind seemed locked up in its own maelstrom.

An unfortunate and familiar one.

Anger still wafted off her, but it was merely empathy flowing and no force direction at all. She couldn't tell which emotion was hers or Mah, a fact that left her struggling.

He did not have time to deal with calming down the empath at the same time. He quickly pressed a command into his wrist unit, releasing a particularly effective form of knockout gas into her cell. It would leave her with a headache when she eventually woke back up, but otherwise unharmed.

As the gas filled the cell, Dash's body felt heavy. Her muscles slacked and her eyes drooped, feeling sleep replace the confusion.

The sudden stasis caught Mahree off guard as he body was forced into a sitting position on the cot. Her influence on the Force was diminished, as was her blindness by rage and grief. Her mind quickly wound down from the enraged young girl to something more of exhaustion and confusion. Mahree took deep breaths in and out in quick succession as her thoughts became her own again.

Mahree watched silently as Dash crumpled to the ground suddenly, the girl taking note of the gas that filled the cell, though barely visible.

“You’re the cause of this,” she began, her voice wavering as Mahree addressed Kurin. “If Sith minded their own business, none of this would be happening.” She mumbled. Her focus shifted to her breathing then, listening to her lungs breathe in an in an attempt to calm her mind.

“Blame the Jedi, not the Sith.” He answered, no longer as commanding in his tone. “If they had left us Sith alone instead of fanatically hunting us, then none of this would have happened.”

He gently pulled another crate over, sitting down right outside the force cage. “Now focus. Take deep, regular breaths… in… out… in… out… A rage will always take more out of you than you expect it to. But it is nothing to be afraid of. In time, you will learn to control better than you did this first time.” He spoke softly now.

"What happened to the Sith in the past is not the fault of those in the present." Mahree retorted, head down. She was caught off guard when Kurin's voice changed - it was calm, almost soothing as he sounded like he was honestly trying to help the situation. It frustrated the girl a little, but she said nothing for the time being and reluctantly listened to his instruction.

While she slowly gained control over her breathing, he pressed a command into his wrist unit, activating the venting system on the other cell, extracting the remaining knockout gas. The prisoner within would remain unconscious for a while more. In just over half a minute the gas was gone and he sent a silent message to temporarily disable the force cage, so that he could tuck Dashara into the bed. He removed the rapier and its sheath, placing it on the floor beside her. Then he left the cell, which was remotely reactivated once he was outside its coverage. He would have to arrange some more food for her later.

Feeling the stasis had been dropped, Mahree watched as the Sith Inquisitor put Dash into the cot, tucking her in like a parent would their child. Of course the bond wasn't as close, but seeing the action still reminded Mahree of such.

In the other cell he could see that the detainee there had recovered somewhat, no longer looking quite so stressed out. “I suggest you eat something. It will help.”

The actions this Sith varied greatly from the last, which Mahree found odd and very surprising. Her first captor did not supply food for a few days, her cell had been much smaller and the treatment harsher. Yet this Sith seemed to… care?

The young girl watched Kurin closely after he suggested she eat. At first it seemed that she would refuse again, but after a few long moments of hesitation, Mahree stood slowly from the cot and took a few steps towards where the tray of food sat after the Sith had deposited it before. She did not take the whole tray with her, instead she grabbed a few different food items and returned to the cot, snacking as soon as she sat down.

He let her earlier statement go unanswered. It would do no good to start another heated discussion. Letting her eat, he sat there watching silently. “If there is anything you might want to know, don’t be afraid to ask.” he said when she was mostly done eating.

“I would appreciate in knowing the name of my gracious host.” Mahree began, eyes glancing up at Kurin for a moment before her gaze returned to the floor. She placed one final cracker in her mouth and decided she was done eating for now.

“That is something I naturally can answer. My name is Kurin Tonaal, though most simply call me Inquisitor, occasionally followed by one of my names.” He paused for a moment. “I know your first name is Mahree, but I do not know the rest of your name. Is that something you are willing to share?”

The exchanging of names was not something Mahree had foreseen while in this Kurin’s hold. She listened to his question, asking for her last name. The young girl glanced up to the other cage, watching a sleeping Dash for a moment before her gaze returned to the ground. “No, I don’t think I am willing.” she mumbled, wiping some crumbs from her face as her gaze remained down, away from Kurin.

“Very well. I will not force you to reveal it.” He was a bit disappointed, but not overly surprised. Earning their trust, if he ever did it, would take time. Had he had more than one cargo hold available he could have considered having one of them moved, but that was not an option at the present. “I will leave you alone for now, though someone will come by with more food later for you both.”

Formaroth Part 2: Throne of Lies

Moments of Broken Peace

Featuring: Kiseo
Location: Elian estate, Fishgrove - Formaroth
Time: Afternoon to Evening- Late Autumn to Early Winter (2 weeks after Dyril left)

---

Autumn changed into winter, the frost settled onto the town like a thin blanket. The sea brought in more frigid air to force patrons to collect their furred cloaks and boots. Overhead, the skies took on a grey hue to match the bleak landscape. On occasion, snow began to waft downward in small flurries.

On the Elian estate, Kiseo managed to keep authority.

She instructed the hired help to walk between each plowed row of mandrakes. Their mounds now were frozen solid, keeping their seeds snug and safe from predatory birds. Many of the wandering people now huddled underneath their handcrafted cloaks, eager to finished their shift. Their eyes sparingly looked over to the more modestly dressed Mao.

Her spotted coat stood out against the pure white and grey of the village. It gave her extra protection against the elements, supported by a thinner cloak. As usual, she wore no boots thanks to her rough footpads. Silently she glided from one row to another, ensuring no one was slacking.

As she bent down to brush away the snow, a female voice cried. Kiseo's ears flipped back and determined the source's direction.

"Kiseo, we found another!"

Alarm and determine fluttered onto the young Mao's expression as she rose upright. Her feet bounded across the rows to the waving woman. Already several others who had finished their rows gathered. Men with shoves and a child with a small pot, filled with warm and loose dirt.

There had been more early sprouts than Kiseo had ever seen back in the Beilokias . Back then, it took months for any of them to show. Here, in Fishgrove, it took only two weeks.

Kiseo suspected it was Fishgrove's soil. It might've held more beneficial nutrients for mandrakes than Dyril theorized. It was a positive and negative thing for those who took care of them. They developed far earlier than she expected them to and each one required a judgment call. She hoped to please her mistress with her dedication.

Her heart pounded in fear as she drew closer. As instructed since the first found sprout, their eyes turned to her for guidance. She hunched down to inspect the cleared ground. Her hands cradled the small green leaf, yellowed a bit from frostbite, to warm it.

"Gerey, can you insert your spade here?" She tapped about three inches from the side.

"Do it nice and slow to test if the soil is frozen. If it is, we need a pickax instead."

Her eyes spotted the young girl, All, struggle with the pot far too big for her.

"Someone help Alil with the pot and bring a torch to hold underneath, ensuring it stays warm."

They all moved with purpose as they worked together to loosen the frozen mandrake. After a long hour, they managed to replant it into the pot. Alil and another adult took it inside where it would sit with the others.

Gerey frowned, sweaty and covered in frost, as he turned to Kiseo.

"That's what, the fourth one this week?"

Kiseo rose back to her feet and nodded, "Yes. It's odd, they don't usually sprout until about three months."

"We planted these damn things two weeks ago. Is this normal?"

"Not all. I'm not sure what's happening, but it is both bad and good."

"What makes you think that? I don't see anything good about digging these things out of the ground when it's frozen."

They finished up their work, finding no other early sprouting mandrake. Much to everyone's relief. Kiseo paid them their weekly wages and bide them farewell until the next morning.

After she finished watering the potted mandrakes, Kiseo turned to the fire. She bent at the waist and snatched a dried log. The fire dimmed when she tossed it in, then rushed up to devour it. It did well to illuminate the small hut-like house.

It was nothing luxurious like the rooms in the Little Cottage Inn at Nyhem, but it held its own rustic charm.

The whole place was a single room. Smooth stone created the base while thatch and wood created a triangle style roof. There was a small square opening high above the fire pit. A few smaller rocks sat in the still-hot ashes, turned over to warm the other side.

Kiseo walked back to the far end. Several pots of plants were being kept hot by many rocks positioned nearby. It appeared to do the trick to keep the rain, wind, and cold outside. Without any debris on the stone floor, the possibility of them catching fire was slim.

After she replaced the colder ones, she drifted back to her chair beside the fire. She enjoyed the cracking sounds it created. It provided some comfort in her isolation as she watched it closely.

Memories were her entertainment while she began to patch her clothing. An image of her mother, in a rocking chair, caused her to smile. She would sew Dyril's dresses while she moved back and forth, enjoying their play.

Kiseo's heart hurt for a moment when recalled the older Mao's death. The violence left a bitter taste in her soul. Between the depressing thoughts and the fire's warmth, she had begun to fall asleep.

CRASH!

A rock flew through one of the front windows into a wall that served to be the pantry. Abruptly the Mao jumped up and rushed to the door. She jerked it open and stared into the darkness. Her night vision spotted some movements of children or adults fleeing into the woods.

Several moments passed and adrenaline died down in her head. She closed the door with a soft thud. In and out, Kiseo breathed to regain her calm once more.

Still shaken, she moved to the pantry. A rock had shattered one of the clay pots housing the salt causing her to frown. It appeared there was still some prejudice even in the now peaceful Fishgrove.

[Approved] Dashara Horizon, Unaligned Force User

Now... I think I'm done with it.

[Approved] Dashara Horizon, Unaligned Force User

One: Still working on it, revision lost motivation but it's coming back.
Two: Was waiting for feedback over what we're doing ICly so I can determine anything else I need to add to it.
Three: Didn't get an answer to two in the chat. :P

Create-A-Hero: A Superhero RPG Season 2- New Horizons (Closed)

Hide and Seek: Part 2

Location: Benjamin’s home, NYC
Time: Afternoon, month after the Wolf Hunt.

---

Benjamin's arms burned as he pushed up then lowered back down. Each time, he repeated the movement in sets. After several hours, he gave one final pushed and hooked the bar on the stand. In a well-practiced motion, his figure slid out from underneath it. Sweat beaded across his surface making him feel grimy from the extreme work out.

An arm snatched up a nearby placed towel and began to wipe around his eyes. His wave hair flipped around, some times slipped into his eyes and made them sting. Finishing up, he rose upright. He discarded the towel while he walked toward the door.

When his fingers touched the handle, a loud rapping caught his attention. His head whipped about to the source: his bedroom window. Benjamin frowned before he began to investigate.

On the still, a blue-black crow stood outside. The beady eyes narrowed onto him and became motionless. Almost like it was studying him. In a sudden burst of energy, the crow's wings jerked out and feet kicked off its perch. It swooped wide once before it vanished into the distance.

Benjamin remained at his room's entrance, confused by the sight. It held some familiarity, but weirdness too. He shrugged it off as he turned around to exit his personal space.

He managed to catch the clock on his way out. The digital numbers flashed 12:00 PM.

'Explains the hunger pains,' Benjamin mused.

He soundlessly made his way down the stairs into the hallway outside the kitchen. The sounds of the door unlocking and swinging open caused him to pause. It had to be Emma, she was the only one to have keys to the house.

As he entered the kitchen, he realized her shift started earlier than this. The oddness strict him, but he didn't linger on it. It didn't matter to him now.

He noted she had two large, paper bags in each arm. She struggled to loosen the keys while she juggled them. Despite Lorrie's continual complaints, Benjamin moved closer and reached to help her.

"I got them," he began to take them from her.

When Emma came to face him, they fell from her grip. In her shock, she uttered a phrase Benjamin couldn't understand.

"¡Oh dios mío, Benjamin! ¿Que está haciendo aquí usted?"

In the nick of time, Benjamin had managed to slip his arms underneath to catch the bags. He doubted that Lorrie would've forgiven the waste. He placed them on the counter and turned back to Emma. She appeared to be staring at a ghost. The image of her hands pressed against her mouth and pallor skin created some discomfort in him.

He finally broke the silence.

"Emma, you know I don't understand Spanish. What's the matter?"

His words seemed to recover what sanity she still held. Recovering from her shock, she lowered her hands and spoke. Her eyes still looked him up then down. She seemed to expect him to evaporate at any moment.

"Ms. Hart called and said you weren't coming back home until the day after tomorrow. I had to shop and ensure we had food for when you got back. Was there a change in plan?"

Emma's voice caused a small headache to bud in his head. Images of a man surface into his mind's eye. A worn, green cap flattened black hair streaked with grey against the auburn skin. Grey eyes stared at him and gave off an aura of familiarity. The image faded shortly after leaving him with a throbbing pain in his head.

Emma's hand rested on his shoulder and her eyes filled with concern. Her voice became steady.

"Are you all right Benjamin?"

All he could do was a nod and deflect her worry with a simple word. "Yeah."

She became hesitate to accept this forcing him to farther comfort her.

"Yes, I am. I just got a headache. I must've strained something during the workout, it will pass."

He could sense the reservation in Emma when she pulled her hand back and turned to the groceries. She began to pull out various food from fresh cod to kosher salt, setting them down into a neat line.

"I'll make you some fish tacos. Or would you prefer Philly cheese steak wraps?"

Benjamin finally pushed his pain to the side to answer her.

"Fish tacos sound delicious. Would be faster than the wraps too."

Emma gave a small smile then shooed him out of the kitchen.

"I'll start it. Can you see if Mr. Reeves and Ms. Hart want something else?"

He shrugged then sulked out. He wandered around the house for a good hour, calling for Daniel and Lorrie. Neither answered him. He began to suspect they weren't home when he returned to the kitchen. By now, the aromas of baked cod filled the air. Cilantro, lime, and other seasonings heightened the already savory scents.

"I can't find them. I guess they left for something."

Emma didn't comment on it. Instead, she passed him a plate with four tacos prepared and sided by lime wedges, sided by a strange salad. He glanced at it then back to her. Seeing that he expected an answer to her creation, Emma let her smile widen and answered.

"It's a Mexican Cesar salad. I found it on the net and it's supposed to be rather healthy."

Benjamin nodded and began to head upstairs, his escape paused by Emma's voice.

"With Mr. Reeves and Ms. Hart out of the house, you know you don't have to retreat upstairs. I don't mind company while I dine in the kitchen."

Emma's offer sounded tempted as he pulled away from the stairs. He sat his plate on the counter and negotiated a bit.

"All right. I'll stay down here on one condition. The first signs of the dragon lady, you distract her and I'll make my get away upstairs. Deal?"

"Deal."

Create-A-Hero: A Superhero RPG Season 2- New Horizons (Closed)

<Snipped quote by Fallenreaper>

No,not the plague.

Just fleas.

@nitemare shape

Don't make me have Ben chase Lyger up a tree. He's not a pussy cat at least.

Create-A-Hero: A Superhero RPG Season 2- New Horizons (Closed)

<Snipped quote by officaz>

There are a few vampires, Dracula is also around. And there are a ton of breeds out there too. Vampires are also gifted in magic and could probably even be metahumans if they were turned after the fact. I'm not sure how they would react to becoming Meta powered after becoming Vampires but that also could be a possibility. Anyways there's tons of ways to make Vampires and the kind of characters they could be. So we're always open and accepting as long as basic rules are followed.

No god modding, no reality warping powers, no player mind control. And of course basic Guild rules too. Just write up a sheet post it in OOC and once accepted post into the Character tab.

@VATROU

Pretty much that. I also know there are a few players who dub in the supernatural and other genres which allow your character to cross paths with them whenever you want. I know I have a werewolf that's involved in that stuff, and I'm slowly trying to back on his feet again. Had an extreme case of motivation block since most of the players he was attached to ended up becoming overwhelmed with real-life or dropped the rp suddenly. I swear, if I didn't know better I think Ben had the plague or something.

Create-A-Hero: A Superhero RPG Season 2- New Horizons (Closed)

Dark Summonings: Part 1

Location: Unknown
Time: Unknown

---

A crow shot off into the air. The sense of magic disappearing in her wake, leaving a sense of absence and lure in her wake. Its feathers rustled with dust as it rushed higher. Gradually it drifted even before it rested alight upon a twisted branch overhead. Its strong claws gripped the gnarled texture easily while it flipped about. A feathered head twisted right then left, observing the creature below.

The glossy black eyes seemed to study intently for several moments then emitted a harsh caw.

Around the figures were a small forest of trees. Their bark appeared to bleed magic creating a thickness in the air, adding to the atmosphere. Gnarled branches twisted into menacing shapes to leer at trespassers. Their surfaces appeared to be burnt, but no true fire had ever touched them. Unseen eyes stalked them from secret hiding places while the mist closed in. Again, another harsh caw cried for the vampire to follow before the bird took off flying.

“Ngh…” Katarina grumbled and muttered profanities in German to herself as she roused her form painfully from the ground, and took a look at her surroundings. And they were some surroundings alright. This was no Nevada any longer, that was for sure - or if it was, then it was a long way away from where she and Ben had been- wait. Katarina glanced about, concerned and confused. Where did he go? Where was she?

“Benjamin?!”

Her voice echoed into the forests, into the inky mists that swirled and broiled about her... There was no response, except for the cawing of a crow... Katarina scowled at the bird, which appeared to wish for her to follow. Kat, for her part, now very irritated and unhappy at whatever bullshit she’d been dropped into this time, unsheathed her rapier in response, and looked about for any other path. “Hm. Natürlich, there’s only one way, and it’s the way of that damn bird-”

It cawed again.

“Shut up!”

Katarina also unslung her assault rifle from her shoulder… she didn’t think it’d be too useful in this land of magical mystical misty forests, but it couldn’t hurt, right? Scowling once again at the bird, she slowly followed it down the path, looking about for any sign of… whatever was in this forest. Internally, the desire to become the Gheist in the face of this danger began to claw at her thoughts, but she was able to suppress it… for now.

The bird fluttered off the branch. Its wings caught the air and drifted into the sky, the dark shape glided along the warm draft it caught. It seemed unfazed by Kat’s shout as it lead the way through the burnt forest. Its shape wove through the branches, mindful never to brush the tips.

After about an hour, a large set of stairs came into view. The arches that covered the pathway appeared made from thick, black thorns. Each one entangled each other at the very top. They shortly melted away to greenery the farther back it went to the front of a large, stone wall. It gave off an ancient and dangerous aura to anyone that passed by.
Smoothly the crow swept below the arches on its path toward the door. When it finally reached its destination, it tilted its body. It landed on the empty lantern hook outside. The head jerked to the door, an obvious indicator she should knock or open it.

Its wood came from an apple tree. A black iron knocker at the center, celtic sigils encircled it. Each of the grooves filled with vines and grew from within. The knocker took the shape of a crow’s head grasping a ring in its beak. Its eyes glinted with unnatural life, while it dared her to knock.

“You want me to knock on the door? Well… here goes nothing.” Katarina took a deep breath to steady herself, ready to spring into action at the first sign of hostility… and rapped on the door, three… slow… steady… raps. “Gott only knows what’s on the other side of this door…” Katarina slung her assault rifle back over her shoulder, but her rapier remained bared and ready to strike, whilst her left hand fingered her crucifix…

She waited with bated breath.

The door creaked then shuddered. Slowly it pulled open to reveal flickering candle light torches. Their light chased the darkness down a long tunnel. Promptly the crow cawed its warning before it darted from its perch. It flew past Kat, gliding toward the roof where it vanished from sight. Feathers were left in its wake like a small trail on the stone floor.

As Katarina entered, the sensation of being watched would creep along her spine. White orbs intently watched her from a distance. Their owners shifted in the darkness and gave no clues to their true size or shape,. They continued to disappear and reappear in various areas, never very far from her.

An elderly woman stood at the end of the hall. She fell short to Katarina’s height by nine inches, but seemed indifferent to it. Along her willowy form she wore a forest green gown without sleeves and an open front. She wore a white shirt underneath to provide modesty. In the front it was tied up in a corset design to hold the fabric to her hourglass figure. Embroidery covered the pleated skirt's bottom and revealed the white underskirt peeking out.

The light danced along her swirling tattoo near her right eye. Their light illuminated the design etched across the cheek and the whole right side. Her irises were milky white but she still studied the vampire approaching her. She seemed hold an air of displeasure in her face. Grey and black curls spill over her shoulders where they hung off the curves of her wrinkled face.

“It took you longer to arrive than I expected it would,” she finally spoke.

Katarina cocked her head to one side, her hand now on her hip. So, this was the denizen of the land in which she found herself - perhaps the creator of this demi-plane. This creature- no, woman, radiated, pulsed with power just standing there, regarding Katarina with a curious, displeased eye. Inwardly, Katarina seethed - how dare this old woman regard her, the Red Countess, who put the fear of God into her foes, as merely more than an annoyance? Who did she think she was?

Evidently someone who either was strong enough to match her - few lived to this woman’s age with such reckless bravado as Katarina would expect from one who would fall to her. Or perhaps this was what the woman wanted Katarina to think- Stop it. This was one of the fey’s tricks, to bind oneself in skeins of misleading trains of thought, confusing one so much that you barely knew what you were saying, let alone what you were agreeing to. Enough of such thinking. The Gheist’s presence once more made itself known, straining at its proverbial leash, demanding to burst through Katarina’s flesh and strike down the crone that stood before her. Katarina, once again, forcibly suppressed it with a slight grimace.

“I apologise for the brief delay, I had some... urgent matters... to attend to. You know, figuring out where in the hell I am, why that bird was making such a ruckus all the time...”

“Why would you want to focus on such trivial matters like that?” Morrigan asked, genuine confusion seeped into her voice.

She promptly turned to the right and opened a door, her figure stepped into a gothic drawing room. Her feet slipped onto the carpet while she quickly lite a candle stick for additional light. She gestured to the nearby chair for her guest to get situated.

“The bird is actually Ambrose, I sent him to retrieve and ensure the Fae Wilds didn’t eat you. It’s a nuisance when it does,” Her tone held a hint of amusement at the thought.

“Eat me? I wouldn’t advise it do that. Necrotic flesh tend to add a bit of a sour taste to the meal… not to mention what it would have done to the magicks surrounding us.” Katarina sheathed her rapier as she sat down - the chair was a welcome relief after the trudging through the ‘Fae Wilds’ that she’d done to get here. “Excuse the mud. So… doubtless you know who I am, so you have me at a disadvantage.”

“You would be surprised at what types of creatures it has devoured over the centuries. Undead to even fae, there’s little off limits to its wild magic." Morrigan pointed out as she wrapped up her task, her visage turned to face Katarina.

She raised her hand then guided her own chair toward her. Casually she lowered her rear onto the cushion and placed her right leg onto her left, comfortable at last.

“You can call me Morrigan,” she let the word soak in before dropping a bomb next.

“How is my great-grandson, Benjamin?” She asked, her serious tone melted into a far more pleasant one.

Aaaah… Scheisse. Play it cool, Katarina. “Well, if you’re so concerned about his welfare, perhaps you could summon him here yourself? As you did to me?” Kat gave a rueful half-smile. This was a surprise, to be sure, but perhaps not a wholly unwelcome one. After all, perhaps she could use this to not just find out more about him, but perhaps she could assist this ‘Morrigan’ in protecting him?

“Well, suffice to say, he is still finding his feet. More than once have I had to, ah, what’s that charming phrase... pull his boots from out of the fire? But still, to be expected for someone his age and inexperience.” Katarina leaned back in the chair, hoping that Morrigan would at least be placated with the answer. She had to tread very carefully… in some respects, she did not see Morrigan, but rather the old, corpulent Pomeranian Duke Boguslaw Gryf. It was 1585, and the two of them were discussing the future of Thorn… and Katarina, just as now, had to walk a fine line between strength and conciliation.

Morrigan looked at Katarina a moment. The words sank in then she suddenly broke out into laughter, her arms wrapped about her middle. After a few long moments, she wiped her tears from her eyes over the ‘joke’.

“My dear Red Countess, isn’t it obvious? I would’ve,if I could. Sadly his mother and I came to an arrangement. I can’t get into contact with him until he seeks me out first,” Morrigan yawned as if the memory of the deal itself bored her.

She leaned into her seat, her legs provided a lopsided stand for her elbows. Her fingers twined together then she rested her chin onto them. Her Cheshire smirk broke through her wrinkles as she then straightened up in her chair.

A brief frown broke her antics when Katarina mentioned Benjamins’ difficulty. She nodded, and again her demeanor altered back. She sighed before she replied.

“It’s a pity preventing it would’ve ruined things. Werewolves tend to more pests than anything.” She made little effort to hide the disgust and disappoint.

Another thoughtful moment and Morrigan snapped her aged fingers. It sounded like a dried twig breaking. A soft glow abruptly appeared as it floated over to her. She smiled at it while she put forth an order.

“Could you bring us some mead and Cornish pasties.”

The little light bowed and zipped off into the hall.

“You must be hungry after the trip at least,” Morrigan’s tone indicated she wasn’t going to take no for answer.

Kat snickered in reply. “I will politely decline, my tastes are… more discerning.” She looked about at the room - it was almost as though she’d been taken back in time, to a time without all of the glass and steel constructions of the modern day - it was more familiar to her, in a way. Stonework walls, open fires, dim lighting… candles. Perhaps it was calculated by Morrigan to put Katarina in a position of familiarity? She didn’t know, but she wasn’t going to mention otherwise.

“I think, if I may, add my own outlook on werewolves? Untamed, they are little more than animals, more of a nuisance than outright useful. However, were he to be able to harness his power, and utilize it fully, he would be a potent force.”

A small, fleeting twitch lurked near Morrigan’s mouth. She looked ready to object when her attention was stolen and her head jerked to the side. Another individual appeared in the room.

The man walked without a sound, his hand placed firmly on a cane and his gait fell into a casual one. He stopped beside Morrigan’s seated figure. At first glance, he appeared to be a man in his early twenties. His worn hazel eyes drifted into Kat’s direction as he shifted his wavy, blonde hair from his vision. Through he looked older, his features still held strict connections to the boy he used to be.

“She’s not going to poison you, Kat. It wouldn’t be in her best interest.” A maturity and experience laced Benjamin's chosen words.

“You know, I had hoped you wouldn’t reveal yourself this soon,” Morrigan said with a pout.

“Hrm… Well, things just got a lot more interesting. You must be a Ben from the future… yes, I recognise him in you. So then, the point of this meeting has been laid open - perhaps sooner rather than later is more beneficial to you and this world of yours, actually. I’d hate to see what happens if you leave an agent of undeath in the world of the fey for too long.” Katarina sat back in the chair, a pensive air about her as she considered her next course of action, and line of questioning. So Morrigan had brought her here to discuss something about Ben - aye, perhaps his future? Maybe something was endangering the future? Katarina had little time for the games and riddles of the fey when it came to Benjamin… she decided that a direct approach would yield the greatest answer in the shortest timespan.

“So, then, fey… what is it you want from me?”

“It’s a little more complicated than that.” Benjamin pointed out. He then looked to Morrigan who lightly at the name fey given.

“She’s not familiar with your past, grandmother. Not yet." He rested his free hand on her shoulder in a kind gesture, but it seemed to hover above it. In fact, on closer inspection it appeared like he wasn’t solid at all to the surroundings.

His words seemed to have done the trick as the woman abruptly relaxed then continued.

“Yes, ahem. As you aren’t aware, you’re the only one that can see him besides myself and anyone who’s died before. Mentioning this to my grandson could very well alter his future for the worst. Maybe even wipe him out of existence." Morrigan stated, her tone hinted with annoyance the fact. Like someone who talked about a minor issue at the supermarket.

“Eventually I’ll be meeting with him to get him back on the right track of things. I rather you pretend and lie that you don’t see him lingering behind me. Due to my history, I’m very close with Death himself.”

“Hm. Death has a personification now? Well, I suppose that’s the least surprising thing I’ve heard since my awakening. And yes, naturally, explaining what may happen in the future has an unhealthy way of devastating the paths of the present, leading down an entirely different path which may, as you say… lead to unfortunate consequences. But you say that only people who have died may see him- oh. Of course. I suppose I have a tendency to forget about that time in particular…” Katarina shuddered involuntarily at the memory of the leer of the filth Lithuanian pagan that her parents forced on her as a ‘mentor’. He was at fault for everything that happened… Perhaps a sword through the back was too quick a punishment for him.

“So why bring me here? What is it that you expect me to do?”

“I thought it was obvious?” Morrigan’s eyes widened in surprise.

“Can you imagine me having this conversation where prying ears or eyes could witness it? What better place to reveal a secret than in the Fey wild?”

“No, that’s not what I’m…” Kat sighed in exasperation and leaned forward, her head in her hands. “Yes. I know why you’ve brought me to this location, it’s so you can tell me what it is that you want me to do in secrecy so nobody like the fucking Hounds or whichever anti-magical hit squad the mortals have cobbled together this time can hear us, but you seem to be missing the question I’m actually asking.”

Kat looked up at Morrigan directly, meeting the fey’s eyes with her own. “What do you want me to do?” And then a thought crossed her mind. “Or is this just a conversation, a… head’s up, as Ben would say, and I’ve been completely oblivious this whole time?”

Morrigan looked at Ben.

“Yes, it is. You’re usually around me. If I knew you could see something behind my grandmother, I would want to know and that could very well affect what I do. She is asking you to let whatever happens, happen. And never reveal that I exist.”

Benjamin sighed, “She’s not going to tell you anything other than what you need to know. When the time comes, she’ll reveal more when it’s important and influences my future.”

“Like I said, I thought it was obvious. I did ask you to lie and pretend you don’t see him.”

“A-ah. R-right… Yes, of course...” If blushing with embarrassment was possible for a vampire, Kat would have turned beet red. “My, uh… my apologies…”

Ben chuckled and nodded, “It’s alright Kat. Sometimes it’s better to be absolute in an answer when dealing with those of magic. It’s a lesson we will all learn eventually.”

He jumped when Morrigan clapped, her lips curled into a wide and pleased smile.

“Now, with that out of the way… shall I show you to your quarters? I expect you to be staying with us for a little bit and know your way around the castle.”

Kat snapped back to Morrigan’s attention at the sound of the clap, and then hurled into a state of even greater confusion as she heard the words ‘staying with us for a little bit’. Oh. Oh dear, that was not in her plans.

“You mean.. You… you want me, an agent of undeath, anathema to your very existence and the existence of the world around you at this present time which currently probably most definitely is not happy at my presence… to stay here.” Kat blinked. Vampires never blink.

“Ach. Scheiße.”

“She’s… eccentric,” Ben stated as he watched his grandmother jump up onto her feet.

“My dear, I’m not actually a fey. Besides, you are my guest and my followers will respect that or suffer my wrath,” she explained.

“Besides, you’ll need to help my grandson when he arrives. Currently I am waiting for my messenger to return with news and you will want to hear it. Now, no more delaying.”

Benjamin shook his head then gestured for Katarine to go before him. He kept his body subtle and postured in a gentleman fashion.

“After you.”

Create-A-Hero: A Superhero RPG Season 2- New Horizons (Closed)

AND

RACHELI

Time: Afternoon
Location: Lost Haven, Sherman Square

A few minutes after storming out of the garage, Kayla had come to a stop. All that thought of trying to act strong around people like Jai and Racheli and in the end, she felt weaker than she had ever been. Hiding in an alleyway, away from the eyes of the public, she allowed herself to breakdown and cry. Hiding behind the dumpster from the alleyway entrance, the archer had curled herself up into a ball against the wall and dumpster. Her face was buried into her knees as her wails were muffled.

I can’t deal with this, she thought, thinking back to Jai and Leila that she left behind. Out of everything he had done, why did old man Taylor give Jai the job to work alongside her? He knew her the best and knew what would happen if she broke down. So why? All the flashbacks of her getting shot were blurred between Jason and Jai, which was getting harder for her to turn herself around. Slowly, the medications she took in the garage were kicking in. Her shaking shoulder eased off as she calmed herself. The flashbacks were fading away too as her mind focused on her shot cycle. After a few moments, Kayla looked up to see if anyone was watching her.

” I can always rely on archery to get me back,” she muttered quietly, slowly getting up from the ground. She dusted off the back of her work trousers from the dust from the alleyway floor. Wiping away the rest of the tears from her reddened face, she picked up the arrow tube. Slowly, she began walking away from her hiding place towards home. ”I think some ice cream is in order,” she concluded to herself. That and binge-watching any shitty tv show that was on tonight.

A loud scraping sound echoed in the alleyway. A nearby sewer lid pushed up and slid to the side, followed by cursing mumbles under someone’s breath. In a few moments, a woman with short, brown hair revealed herself. Racheli finished pushing the lid aside before she climbed out, twisting her figure to sit on the edge. She took a moment to catch her breath.

Casually her eyes shifted alongside the alley’s interior until they rested on Kayla.

“What are you doing here?” Her voice flooded into an annoyed, unconcerned tone.

As she listened for an answer to her question, her figure was already pushing onto her feet.

Kayla had heard the scraping sounds as she walked away. Slowing down, she looked around to discern if it was the sound coming from the alley or from somewhere in the city. By this point, the unusual things in the city were frequent enough for her to know that everything is a possibility.

She only snapped into attention when a familiar voice came from behind her. Spinning around, the archer saw her friend sitting on the lip of the opening to the sewer. That explains the sound, she concluded. But even so, her emerging from the sewers was unusual. And the tone in her voice… that was something that made Kayla nervous. Despite not showing it, the earlier interaction that happened in the garage was still weighing heavily on her mind.

”Oh hey Rach,” Kayla responded in a contrasting warm tone. ”I was just making my way home from the garage. Will need some time off my feet after everything.” There was a slight pause, causing the faint smile that she had to disappear into concern. ”Rach… Is everything alright? You disappeared in a rush after the nanites healed my injuries. And why were you in the sewers?”

Racheli eyed her up then down a moment. A suspicion crossed her face at Kayla’s approach while she seemed to debate something in her head, finally relaxing some. Her right hand pulled up to the back of her neck and scratched it softly a few times.

“I needed to be alone. Sewers seemed like the best place because there was no one around to pry into my business. As for my disappearance, I need to clear my head. That’s it,” Racheli was careful to keep her replies vague as she walked over to the sewer lid and began to slide it over.

It moved easily and slipped into the hole, the grooves kept it in place. As she finished up, her attention turned back to Kayla. The eyes seemed void of any sense of recognition but it didn’t linger long. Her head tilted away and stared at the wall, her voice continued to talk.

“I hit my head on the way down so my memory is a little hazy.”

Kayla’s body remained in a neutral, non-responsive position. The pause from Racheli as she was eyeing the archer up seemed off. While the woman standing in front of her looked like Racheli, the archer’s gut feeling was hinting that this was someone else entirely. She dismissed the thought completely as she was tired and wanted to go home and rest. But the thought will remain in the back of her mind for her to process later.

The archer nodded at what Rach was saying. It did make sense that she needed the privacy as Midas could still be keeping an eye on her and anyone she’s in contact with. It also helped that Rach was also a wanted person for things that had happened in the past, though what they were was out of Kayla’s reach at the moment. As for ‘clearing her head’ after what happened in the garage, that part made a lot of sense. She didn’t take the metahuman for the sort to try and clear her head, but it might have been one of those occasions.

However, despite the responses given to her, the thought that the person in front of her wasn’t Racheli crept back into Kayla’s mind. And two things stood out to her from that. The first things: Racheli is having difficulty recalling memories after falling into the sewer, yet still have her memories when riddled with bullets? That made no sense to her at all. And the second thing? Where’s the usual tagalong that came with her with these conversations? He always had some snarky quip to fire off at key moments in the conversation.

Kayla had to test something in that case, just to make sure. ”You seem to get yourself into a right state, huh Rach? Hopefully, you still remember my name after the fall, right?” While she was tired and the suspicions were still in mind, the archer put on a show to give Racheli a cheeky grin.

Racheli swayed her head to the side a bit, her lips pinched together. She narrowed her eyes at Kayla before she answered, her tone indifferent to the question.

“Didn’t you state you needed to get off your feet? If you’re that tired, I doubt you could even recall your own name.”

With that, she flipped her hood over her head and began to walk around Kayla. She gestured for the woman to follow her as she answered back.

“The answer is Kayla.”

Kayla was a bit puzzled that her wording of ‘getting off her feet’ was misconstrued to being too tired for anything, even recalling her name. Her eyes followed Racheli as she walked around the archer. So far, nothing seemed threatening about her. When her name was actually said, she relaxed. Guess I’m just getting worked up over nothing, she thought. Perhaps their ‘friend’ just didn’t want to speak to her for the rest of the day.

The archer turned on her heels and began following Racheli out of the alleyway. ”Just had to check. Head injuries can be serious, after all.” She shifted the tube she was carrying up onto her shoulder as it began to slip down during the conversation. ”So, any plans for the rest of the day? No news from Midas?”

“Yeah, of course, you were,” Racheli wasn’t convinced.

When she reached past her friend, her head looked over her shoulder. A suspicious look enveloped her expression but quickly faded into indifference and calm. It was obvious she didn’t believe Kayla’s excuse for the question. The moment the topic changed, Racheli latched onto it.

She bit her lip in thought before she answered. Each of her weaving and twisting movements ensured she didn’t touch anyone in the increasing crowds while she walked, not appearing to be fond of brushing against anyone.

“First off, I’m heading to the apartment to get cleaned up. I’m pretty sure the cops could smell me a mile away because of the stench. After that… no idea, her nose wrinkled at the statement as she waved off the smell with her right hand.

“No one, not even Midas, has called me today. So I have no idea what’s going on with him.”

Kayla noticed the suspicious look. With everything that happened at that moment, she wasn’t sure of what to make of it. But with Rach giving her name, she just let it go as something that her fatigued state might be making.

Shaking head to delay fatigue, Kayla followed Racheli through the crowds. With her head swimming from the crash in energy, she barely noticed that her friend was weaving through the crowd to avoid touching them. ”Yeah, that makes sense,” she replied, still hiding the recoil from the stench. ”I guess we both can relax for the rest of the day.” Finishing her sentence, she yawned, covering her mouth with her left hand. ”This is despite the fact that I’m still wary of Midas not having done anything since The Hounds attacked.”

"He'll do something, but no point in worrying about it. It adds more stress than we need," she continued through the crowd.

They reached the edge, the densest part behind them, causing Rach to glance over at Kayla. She bit her lip and sighed, seeming to hide her irritation.

"So, where am I dropping you off at? There's no way in hell I'm going to let you wander off while you look like that. If you could see yourself, even you would wonder how you're still standing."

By this time, her figure had pulled to the opposite side of the street and walked in pace with Kayla. Her hands had buried themselves into her pockets. The chains swayed with each step and clanked against her clothes. She ensured to keep her hood down while she avoided making her face visible to anyone, even her friend.

Kayla simply nodded in agreement with the statement. Though she still remembers the drones that attacked Chinatown that almost got her caught up in the blast, there hasn’t really been anything from him. While the quiet is rather troublesome, worrying about it now isn’t going to help in any way. Like the saying goes, she thought. No news is good news.

Clamping her eyes shut momentarily to eke out a bit more energy to stay awake, Kayla didn’t notice the irritated look Rach gave her. She then looked at her friend, a little bit surprised with what was said. ”Though that might be harsh, you’re probably right,” the archer replied, feeling another yawn coming on. ”It’s why I’m heading home via bus than riding my bike home. Don’t want to injure myself again.” Kayla noticed that Rach had been avoiding being facially recognized to anyone, but she dismissed it due to the notion of not being seen and recognized. That’ll make things difficult for both Rach and her if people started picking up on that. ”The bus stop I need isn’t too far ahead. It’s just around a few corners.”

Rach scoffed then added, "Better blunt than a liar." Kayla chuckled in agreement.

Her words fell silent while she continued to walk alongside Kayla. The crowd dissipated leaving them alone once more. To distract herself, Rach eyes turned to the street. The traffic moved and people began to rush back to their jobs causing her to chuckle. It died down when they finally arrived at the bus stop.

"I'll leave you here and see you tomorrow. Where do you want to meet up?" Rach asked with a cool tone, her feet stopped a few feet short of the bench.

The bus, as if on cue, arrives as they reached the bus stop. Kayla looks at Rach, ”Well, with us having a day off tomorrow due to the garage being closed, I suppose we could do something in the French Quarter. Sound good?” With an agreement on what to do, the archer hops onto the bus and sits down. As it slowly makes its route, a thought crossed her mind. I guess I can invite Jai along too, seeing that he has the day off too.