FourtyTwo

Dispatch: Welcome to SDN!

Team Talk

Lightning Girl

Lightning Girl was not exactly the most impressed, hearing and then seeing Myla, sipping away at a cappuccino that was no doubt, a poor excuse for anything she would drink coffee wise. Even being British, and dealing with instant herself, American stuff did something else to her. That and Mexican food. Nothing could prepare her for that. But still, Sophie had adapted to America, the British demeanour of being cynical faded when she had this much voltage running in her skin. She might have still been putting on that idyllic image, but Sophie behind it knew that mask kept up what people wanted. Well, until it hadn't lately.

Where was she? Ah yeah, about to try and actually force blood from the stone of the casually dressed younger woman that felt like she was starting to make her dizzy. And non verbal a moment ago.

”K.”

"Talkative today are we? I get it, you're literally repulsed to me. Magnetism is a tricky one with electricity......but I'll try not to be too positive. I get too chatty when I've been zapped." Lightning Girl must have assumed this is who James meant about the thief who was a massive magnet. Trying to spin it positively (she excused herself her internal physics pun).

She could feel her powers interfering with Payback's presence already, almost as if it was trying to push her *away*. Lightning Girl's electrical powers weren't in of themselves, an AC, alternating current style where they just created a magnetic field around her power- they were more direct, less generation, more transmission. Spitting electrons, not brewing.

It was strange that the feeling of polarity was literal, as the other Phoenix Programme hero introduced themselves, actually coming out with more than a few syllables, in his dark corner, the pale white of Lightning Girl's suit almost casing light into the corner and making her want to keep her distance. The armour was dulled, as if itself didn't want to catch any Californian rays.

"Eclipse. Ex-'cook' if you will." He snorts. "Your wish is my command."

Eh, they could probably guess his power. All black, standing off in the darkest corner he could reasonably find. He scratches the back of his neck, another craving. He was starting to miss that drug. Kept him strong. Stronger than now, at least.

She looked him up and down, the dark corner of the office even darker than the boardroom without lights that James had ended up working in this morning.

"Suppose you're a shadowy kinda crack lord." Lightning Girl chirpily observed, watching him. "Straight up vampire, or just umbrakinesis though?" She enquired, genuine, drawing her zip from her hip pack, peeling her gloves out, the black rubber gloves going over her usual fingerless set, as if she was set to "safety". Trying not to electrocute another pair of heroes. It was dawning on her that she was probably unsafe to have around other heroes, so instead, they'd thrown this motley crew around her. It gutted her, but then again, she couldn't work alone. Not when supers had access to endless amounts of weaponry, and these days, augments that made some average villain into a fucking monster.

Then again, putting Tsunami and then Meta-Man out of action was not exactly top of her list. James had already spoken to her too many times before today.

Sophie was absolutely putting on a confident act, trying to play hero, not some part of doubt that was below her skin, the kind that Sophie when the mask was gone would need to worry about. All of her hopes, unravelling. These poor fuckers were here to redeem themselves. And they might just succeed. She couldn't go the other way in exchange. Tsunami could have sued, and that would be the end of her.....but Meta-Man, man, he was from the ends, poverty, and Sophie felt a hell of a lot worse given how unfortunate that was. But Lightning Girl couldn't let it out. Show no cracks beyond her Lichtenberg scars.

"You alright?" She asked, an open question to ask someone in withdrawal from doing drugs, but with a genuine bit of care. She understood it from the ends she'd grown up in, knowing the answer would never be "I'm fucked", not with how Americans were endlessly optimistic. Maybe it would. He wasn't entirely American, she could spot that beyond his armour.

Dispatch: Welcome to SDN!

7:19am in 91711

James Speight

The alarm clock hit. Another grotty morning. Covers thrown, slippers on.

Toothbrush, spit, shaver, stubble wicking off. Wash face. Revealing a pale, brown-red haired Mancunian who was on the wrong side of 30 last time he checked. Off-grey shirt and grey trousers on, vaguely outdoorsy looking black trainers, designer prescription glasses, smartwatch, and already, James could feel the braincells vaguely come back after a late last night of prep work for this morning.

Sophie had already left, opting to get moving this morning early. He could tell from the suit that was taken from the wall in the corridor.

And the burn marks she left by the bare cables she'd made by ripping out a 110V plug to get her morning dose for the commute in. Like a Tesla, Sophie needed power to fly, and saw a simple solution to electrocuting herself, barely made safe now by a couple of rubber prongs.

She still used that setup, James remarked. That was classic her. Landlord would throw a fit if he found out though.

Despite trying not to get electrocuted this morning, James had to say that he appreciated crashing at hers in her little 2-bed house in a quiet bit of suburbia, this little slice of Devore Heights on the very edge of LA doing its job for now. While he looked around for places to lease, the spare bedroom would do. He barely stopped for breakfast, sipping down a bottle of strawberry Kefir from the fridge, taking it with him to the car. He didn't stop for a coffee, or anything else. He was in his routine.

He'd caffeinate with some tea when he got in so he could be alive then, as he turned on the radio, the Civic turning over easily into life on the drive, the automatic making it pretty much a continued bleh to drive into work as he put it into drive. And like that, his playlist began.

Soundtrack: The Stone Roses - I Wanna Be Adored

The traffic choked the streets almost immediately on the Interstate. Sitting inside the grey Honda Civic he'd barely bought last week and discovered the air con didn't work in, the lack of warmth in the morning at least didn't add to his woes of being sunburnt all the time. He'd already gotten a nasty amount of trucker tan on his arms, as he sighed, sitting in traffic on I-15.

James had to admit, he didn't remember much of his commute in. Nobody ever did. But there was always something new, a consultant never stayed still, there was always some project he had to deal with, some bullshit that went badly wrong, some hero that needed a 1-2-1 and James knew how to deal with them. Even if he didn't have powers, envying forever any hero that could fly, like the green-caped fellow he saw in his mirror that was headed deeper into town on his morning commute. Did he have to worry about traffic? No. Course that fucker didn't. James was glad he didn't have to deal with the bullshit that came with having powers. But sometimes, he wondered how much easier it must have been for Sophie to just throw electricity at most of her problems. She'd carried him into work a few times, back when he was new and waiting to sort the car- but now, he didn't want to be dependent on her, certainly not when she decided to get up even earlier than he did.

James put it back in drive, as the traffic finally got moving again, and he indicated to get off on the freeway ramp. LA was incredibly boring, so much for DTLA, this was the reality of it. Not even Compton or Long Beach, the gangster rap was so far it was barely audible in this mild, boring bit of suburbia that he wasn't quite sure how Sophie had landed on. Desperation? Or just an offer gone wrong? He hadn't actually figured that out. A massive yawn closing out his commute followed, as he put the turn signal on.

Driving up to the gate and swiping his card at the sensor, he found a spot in the parking underneath the building, at last, getting a spot that would be in the shade later. He was early, really early. SDN Claremont. A small, provincial branch in a massive network, Superhero Dispatch Network, to be precise.

And once again, James was putting his "Visitor" parking pass in his window. He wasn't an SDN employee. He was "Other", and strangely, despite knowing more about the company than some who worked there, he wondered how five years had gone by this fast contracting. But in week two of working in sunny Claremont, he could see what Sophie meant. Sunny California. No sea breeze, but from the San Bernadino Mountains, from the outside in, he could just about get it. This was the high life. Real heroes. Even for this early, a few other heroes were in, going to the gym like Sophie had, or just getting set up in their usual routine as he walked through the glass-fronted doors into reception, seeing the lifts come to the bottom.

Running inside, he waved to reception and signed in (something the others didn't have to do) and therefore he missed the elevator. It made him divert to a different stint of the lift with a group of other employees, the small talk absolutely dead. He leaned against the side, waiting for the two-pronged ding to indicate the floor, and stepped on out onto carpet and wood, his lanyard still on around his neck with his name, face and title.

James Speight, Hero Development Consultant, Speight Hero Consulting.

He had work to do. Kat was too busy to see, but he had his own affairs. He basically worked almost without a boss, at least, he seemed to be thrown around like a ragdoll between SDN's HR, Training, Marketing and Dispatch centres on a daily basis. Never a part of any office really, just there to fill in the gaps nobody could actually figure out how to hire for.

The work kept him busy, as he finished his bottle of Kefir, crushing the plastic bottle and hurling it across the room, bouncing it off the rim of the bin. Joining two others that the cleaner hadn't gotten to removing this week.

Morning Brew

Earpods in, James kept through the morning grind, having worked before Riley had come in, and a little through Riley's meeting with Kat.

Soundtrack: Maribou State- Kingdom

It was a frantic early morning. Mostly answering calls, updating his spreadsheet and sitting in the boardroom, as he didn't have a desk at this time, the spot next to Riley occupied for now. Some shit had gone down in Torrance, but he was taken off that job really fast. Burbank had recently done some redundancies, but, for the most part he just had a few heroes to call into, check in with and see that they were put under new dispatchers and "happy" with their careers. And Denver had some work left over (given they were on MST, rather than PST), where a couple of heroes and their dispatcher were at odds. So, he made some reassignments and wrote a small memo to recommend why he was changing them, within the first 30 minutes. It felt strange getting on Zoom and asking how people felt, when nobody really bothered James at all and asked him how he was.

Dead inside.

So, tea time it was, much earlier than he could continue to deal with this bullshit, Riley likely having to meet the team for the morning anytime soon. So he got up to his usual ritual. Keep the Chief Dispatcher happy, you could do anything, James reasoned. He might have a thermos, but more coffee wouldn't hurt a man who loved his nanites, probably.

Peeling the teabag out, James took a sip and drank the thing black, a tasting sip, the kind to check it was about right, even though it scathed his tongue. Again. He took the other mug that had a tiny amount of milk and sugar in it, as Lightning Girl ran in, mask and cape on, yoinking her cup in gloved hand, already dressed for work and having been at the gym in the office this morning, to just make sure she was still up to it. She'd drained a bit of herself already doing it, but then again, you did not keep up her figure without a bit of pre-morning crunch.

"Thank you!" Lightning Girl called out. Nobody had actually put two and two together that they were brother and sister, at least, not obviously. They were two Brits in the same office. Perhaps it was like a shittier version of Lunara and Solaris, in a more crap, sort of disappointing way. He poured out the black coffee from the press, taking it in his now spare hand, looking back to her, as she sipped it down, already soothed with the warm taste of Earl Grey.

"You're welcome. You know, you should really be getting a disciplinary for...." James began, as they walked and talked, Sophie rolling her eyes as she looked over her shoulder.

"I know, water and metal don't mix with high voltage. I already wrote up my apology. And Kat said it was fine. It was an unfortunate collateral, you know I totally didn't mean it!" Sophie replied, as James sighed, realising Sophie had left a bit out.

"I think those weren't her all of her words. Careful, yeah? This isn't...you know." James replied, a bit of older brother still coming out, despite the fact Sophie was absolutely more experienced, and knowledgeable here, in perhaps more control, standing tall over him.

"Yeah, yeah. Rumour has it we have some Phoenix Programme on my team. Do you know them? I didn't fuck up that bad, did I?" Lightning Girl asked, walking alongside James as they walked out of the cafeteria, James not really able to answer all of her energy this morning.

"Not really, but hey, give them a chance? One's a thief that really likes magnets. The other used to make meth for supers, I think. Then Solaris and Lunara, they're....uhhh, I don't even get them. Solaris is like what you looked like before you lost all your hair pigment."

"Yes, and went fucking nearly grey. Great. HR is testing me. Half the team decide to get in the way of a perfectly good save, and suddenly, I'm in with crooks." Lightning Girl uttered, as if she carried a slight air of grudge, despite having nothing to do with the Phoenix Programme herself, wondering what on earth she had done so bad to end up here. That would emerge, James would no doubt feel.

"They aren't. Just don't do anything silly, and I'm sure it'll be fine. Have a good shift, yeah?" James added, Sophie shrugging, before heading out to the smoking area, with her having nothing to really add, nodding back to him.

"Yeah sure. Catch up later." Sophie seemed to peer through Lightning Girl's voice, parting away, heading outside to go sort herself out for the start of her shift.

James breathed a deep sigh, as he carried his remaining mug, spotting that the desk on the other side of the cubicle divider to him, and moving quick, putting a coffee in front of Riley, down on his placemat.

"Morning, Riley. We still on for the meeting? Gonna say, your new team are a right bunch of misfits. And you paired them with Lightning Girl. I didn't think she would take it well....but she takes time with these sorts of things." James greeted him, dropping a lot of info on him, as no doubt, he was about to have his morning filled with the new team. He took a seat at the now vacant quadrant, and quickly jogged to grab his laptop, power cable, bag, mouse and other peripherals in a well practiced snatch and grab to put down by the Lenhart machine, setting himself up whilst Riley replied.

---

Shock Therapy

Lightning Girl

"Morning, Alpha Team. This is your Dispatcher Riley Rider checking in. Since losing Tsunami and Meta-Man last week, we've got new team members joining us. Feel free to say hello and make them feel 'welcome'".

The response from Lightning Girl was a bit delayed to Riley's question, the white-haired British heroine a bit....occupied.

"Yeah, yeah, you.....hang on!"

And like that, Lightning Girl hung onto the transformer again, yelling out, not realising she had left comms open. It was a yell of pleasure, probably not far off her hitting orgasm, but getting hit by that much energy just switched on every neuron inside her, a yelp of joy. It was genuinely a bit unnerving, because the electricity picked her up off the ground and held her in a cloud of static after she contacted it, as she proactively *giggled*. She could feel herself going from a bit plugged in from the morning tea and waffle she'd had coupled with five minutes on charge to the wall, to straight up feeling like she could start absolutely fucking blasting. Which she did as she peeled her hands away from the coil, pinging a nearby Lightning rod with her pointed fingers, blowing smoke from the end of her hand like she had a gun.

Not the best move, considering she was still back at the office. On the neighbouring roof. Probably causing the main office to have a slight oscillation in power as the lights flickered inside from her juicing off a distribution cable.

"Shit, sorry that was a bit loud! Left my comms open! Okay, now I'm good....all juiced up, and ready to go kick some arse! Good morning to you too, Riley!" Lightning Girl postured into her earpiece in her transtantic, British hinged accent, standing on the roof, her cape billowing in the wind, standing on the roof of SDN Claremont, looking out. Classic superhero move, but then again, if you felt good, you were doing good. Taking in the city, as if to reinforce her own confidence. Tell herself, you can do this.

Lightning Girl was absolutely not in the morning mood James was. She was willing to go out and do some harm to those who would wish to do that upon people, and her feeling was good. Her white hair blew in the breeze, her cape billowing a little too, the suit squeaking from the time she'd had it resown after a particularly nasty hit. Her Factor 50 was on, her feeling was positively like she was full of lots of amps, and ready to get moving, black carbon mask covering her forehead and eyes, white hair kept loose to her shoulders, leather boots creaking a little, and her teeny little yellow hip-pack sitting on the small of her back where her medical kit, rubber gloves and first responder gear were when she was working with EMTs.

Now she was in a position to reply, adjusting her headset, the adapted device able to survive her running live with current and currently smelling a little of ozone.

"Hi team, I'm Lightning Girl! I'm an electricity based kind of person.....Riley, please send my apologies to Tsunami and Meta-Man if you don't mind. They uhhh.....I mean, I did tell them I could handle it. I look forward to working with you all, just please don't run in front of me if I'm throwing bolts at baddies! I'm just by the smoking area, good to go when you lot are!" She exclaimed, rather excited at first, before turning to the elephant in the room, realising she should probably do something else than stand *magnificently* on the roof, her focus back to her as she dropped down into the smoker's balcony with a practiced ease, looking around for the others, who would no doubt find it impossible to miss her.

Tactical Breach Wizards: Fireteam Hex (Military, Modern, Fantasy, Action-Thriller)

Day 2: 00:45:10
Outside of Koley Railyard, Koley,
Libor Province,
Republic of Polavia

The fight was going nicely. About as good as it could considering they were not meant to be in full blown warfare with a forest behind them gently catching alight, but armed recon in stealth. Silas and Rowan on the flank were dragging bullets their way, the poison gas and Rowan's magic were making them think differently, while Borys was moving up on Felix. The Libolian wasn't quite sure what was going on, but Borys decided to take matters into his own hands.

Well, fingers, as Felix was about to kick the shit out of him as Borys pulled his finger out, the gag interrupting Felix's words....

"Borys, the fuck are you...."

BLRUGH.

Felix immediately chundered out a mass of...what can only be not described, and immediately cleaned up his mouth, so close to just putting a bullet into the pisshead, him thinking this was a game. Silas and Rowan were laying down fire effectively, 12.7mm rounds slamming into trees, as Felix put two and two together. And realised what Borys was trying to do. A bit of sick had landed on Borys, mind.

Suddenly feeling rough yet pumped with adrenaline, Felix decided to take a little imitative, breaching fibreoptic in hand, feeling the mana burn a little inside of him, the reserve tanks on for energy inside to get him through this fight. As any good operative would need to do. He hoped the team had his back, looking at Borys square.

"Stop fucking drinking and start shooting." Felix tapped Borys on the shoulder, and the lion that Felix switched to nearly barged him over.

Clearing the ground through the grass, what looked like Felix was just running out into the open, the MG switching to blast fire onto Felix, the illusion falling apart, and the lion, what the PSA militia thought was actually the illusion, kept going.

Diving into the back of the UAZ, the distraction was grateful, as Oksana took the opportunity of the gunner and the remaining fireteam pulled in too many different directions to act, into actually getting a bead on the gunner. And that she did. The bullet felt divined, in how it covered about 150m of ground and splattered into the gunner's head, before Felix casually took a chunk out of one of the guys taking cover behind it, a filet steak sized portion of shoulder and neck that crunched in his teeth like butter.

The others cleaned up nicely, Oksana pipping two more in the rocks in the clearing, easily putting them out with surgically placed bullets.

Felix showed in that moment, why perhaps maybe his ability was a little bit broken.

The last man standing, the former driver screamed as he tried to run, but Felix was so much faster. He didn't play with his food. He just went for the neck and thorax, jaw peeling him apart like a tangerine, spitting out the bits of lung he'd caught that he really wasn't a fan of. His digestive system, and his lion's were a little different. And now all of Babushka's food being empty in his human form had meant that as a lion, he had a gap to fill.

The lion turned back around, playfully running along as Oksana ran down the hill, all enemies clear, their team leader unable to communicate but from his enhanced hearing and sight, not seeing much. A graceful ginger-haired lion covered in blood in the middle of a chilly Polavian forest felt a little contradictory, but hey, he didn't choose this life.

"You diabolical fuck!" Oksana called out almost in shock, as Felix gave a playful roar, a grin if possible on the lion's face that they were out of the woods. He made a move to the UAZ, shifting back, looking around as he broke into a jog, taking in his handiwork. A little almost embarrassed, but, impressed at the same time by Borys unleashing him.

"I'll give Borys credit where due. Consider a career as a beastmaster if this shit doesn't work out because....nobody's made me be sick for that. Please don't be sick yourselves. I'm uhh....cannot help it. I'm a pescatarian!" Felix added, awkward, as the Polavian sniper jogged down, Oksana looking at the state of the body by the UAZ, accustomed to the images on the internal emails that emerged when he was at work.

"I'd have been sick by now if I wasn't. Ammo is getting low my end. We got a plan apart from getting shot by another patrol and you feasting on medium rare Polavian at Mach Fuck?" The Polavian dryly retorted, flicking a new magazine in, direct in thoughts.

The sound of tracks rustling in the distance and a train horn made echoed made a plan for the unofficial team leader quickly.

"Idea. Rowan, jump up on the DShK. I'll drive.....we have a train to catch, if it's cargo, we can sneak aboard. You're right that the resistance is too heavy, we're going to get squished if we head to the trainyard with this lot on us. Just means we need to burn any tail first." Felix asked, as Oksana looked around.

"Easier said than done. Polavian trains do not slow down for anyone. Big efficiency drive. Mostly because the train drivers get to finish once they complete their shift. Our window is small." Oksana retorted, realising that Felix was proposing jumping onto the train. A poor idea in a field of potato-powered bullshit and very rare human meat.

"Well, that sounds like an even bigger win to me. They in the pocket of the Albani?"

The team clambered in, as Oksana replied to Felix's question, loosely sitting in the back of the open-topped communist jeep, loading a new mag into her Vityaz, counting her remainders out.

"Mostly not. Don't need to pay them when the containers are." She replied, as the UAZ chugged, Felix turning the key inside of it.

"Come on!" Felix yelled, as he slapped the dash, and with almost a comical timing, the engine belched out black diesel smoke, the former Captain awkwardly shoving it into gear, with more abuse than a Kalan prison getting put into the gear shift into second given he realised the UAZ was a machine built on BDSM like demand. It understood no other language than mechanical violence, in exchange for questionable quantities of oil.

"And you still look think you're in control?" Oksana asked, the question open, knowing Rowan was thinking it, and increasingly, so was she. This was a complete fucking mess.

"Trying. Not got much choice but to play the cards we're dealt, aren't we?" Felix replied, as driving down, more PSA tracer fire darted above, as Felix kept it as steady as he could over the rough and tumble of the forest tracks, another patrol in the forest firing on them and the team firing back. Spotlights were out, as mud and dirt sprayed everywhere, the ride about as bumpy as a trampoline made of bare concrete.

"Contacts!" Felix called out, as another UAZ emerged, more swearing and shouting audible, and bullets flew from the team. Oksana sprayed her PP-19, taking out a couple of the. There was something to be said about it all, as Felix turned left, a massive hit to the vehicle as it bumped and rattled alongside the train track, where the train was still at running speed. The UAZ behind tried the same move, and two of the PSA militants were actually thrown out by the size of the bump, skidding to a halt to pick up the two that had been flung out.

"Hah! Okay! Here!" Felix yelled, keeping the UAZ alongside, gunfire dying down, peeling alongside the train, the box cars a mixture of ISO containers and traditional cattle wagons, old units put into service that were also being used to store loose goods. Felix kept the revs high, next to one such container, as Oksana unbolted the latch and drew it open, making a bigger opening than the gap between the carriages, which would be insane.

As Felix kept throttle pinned, Oksana helped Borys in, given his shitfaced nature, it was best he went and caused as little hassle here. Then next up, she offered a hand up to Silas, the bumps difficult but her holding the frame to give him a chance to leap up, before she would follow.

But something hit her mind and immediately set her off. The visions halted.

"Wait, not yet!"

"Oksana, fucking go!" Felix yelled back, as Oksana did as she was told, despite the burning feeling in her. It was impossible, like a hunch backed by so much more. Because the moment she made the jump, following after Borys, throwing herself into the carriage, the car had to dodge a gap in the road, that then suddenly was filled by the emergence of another UAZ smacking into the side of it.

---

The crash was a hard hit, with Felix and Rowan scattered, thrown from the UAZ, the jeep in bits and them lucky to be breathing.

The other UAZ that had smacked into it was a write-off too, but the militia inside had fared better.

Felix groaned, as the PSA team from the crashed UAZ flooded the area, at least a fireteam's worth, four or so in his vision.

"Shit. You're not friendly are you." A hit to the face and a hard kick was that reply, Felix was aware that any switch or escalation now would be a risky move. One of them was carrying a big iron looking staff, and it was throwing him completely for everything. No craft available to him with a ward like that. Probably why Oksana was not able to see that coming. That was a smarter move, Felix realised, as before Rowan could move, she got kicked in the side and thrown to the floor.

And next to him, Olygarkov, emerging from a polished looking Range Rover, cigarette in hand, breathing it out. Ushanka and leather coat on, he didn't half look like the evil spawn of a police state.

He walked along the crunched glass of the UAZ's windscreen, cackling almost, looking around at the two he'd managed to get in his hands.

"Rowan Morgana! I cannot believe this, you have made my day....and fallen right into our palm. With another caster causing us..... inconvenience." Olygarkov announced as if he was some minor noble, almost rather pleased with what felt like a lot of other works, not his own.

And leaning in, as the other militant held her up, Olygarkov's smile became like that of a Cheshire cat.

"What is it they say? Two for one? Capitalist scum come in capitalist numbers! You, and the fucking lion.....for free!" Olygarkov was now monologuing. Like any two-bit wannabe bureaucratic, secret policeman.

"And you followed him after it all? After what he did? He does not know what to do. No.......he got you in front of us though." Olygarkov yanked her by her plate carrier, dragging her away from the mess, leaning her against the car, bloody and hurt, away from where Felix was now getting attention.

"But now we have you, nobody else has to die. The rest of your team need not worry." Olygarkov added, his voice trailing from the Libolian's view, as rifle was still pointed at him. The next words were likely going to be to shoot said lion, he thought to himself. People full of themselves did that.

Felix looked up, sighing, coughing up, the hurt deep inside him, watching Rowan get dragged away. He didn't make too much noise, staying compliant, not wanting to rile his captor while the boss talked. He might have been full of bad decisions, but this was a moment where even without vision, he could make a good one.

"Two for one is a bad deal." Felix lept up and yanked the AK-103's barrel from the hands of the man in front and kicked at the same time, taking a couple of rounds from the ward-carrying militant before turning the rifle he'd stolen onto the man who held him, before putting a round through the head of the ward-carrying soldier next to him. It wasn't much to crawl and hurl it as far as he could across the tracks, as Olygarkov and his other soldier reacted. But he was bleeding. Badly. Felix barely was up before stumbling forward and about to look like he was going to drop dead, a bullet through his side and top of his throat, making him fumble, and fall to the floor.

As Olygarkov turned and pointed his Makarov at him, trigger pulled to finish the job, the special forces operator vanished.....and the lion appeared.

And that lion tore off his arm as Felix darted forwards and up, the AK dropped, as he snarled, before then leaping onto him and ripping out his stomach, another soldier leaping on top of Felix with a knife.

Brave trying to fight a lion, but Felix felt the cut into his side of the big knife, but rolled across and drove forward, making a really brutal, horrid scene of it, basically just putting his jaw to the militant's head and taking a bite.

From behind, it was a bloody scene, probably worse than anyone had seen Felix do from earlier.

By the time Felix was done, he was licking bits out of his teeth, panting hard, bleeding. He couldn't change back, not until he saw a medic in his human form. He'd been hurt badly there, the cut bad now, but managable. He sauntered across to Rowan and put one of his sharp paws into her arms as carefully as he could pulling her and the ziptie down, but peeling through it, looking on at the train that was now getting further away, with their medic aboard. He brushed his mane and paw against Rowan's broom and her headset, and stood rampant with his....arms, legs, front legs? Whatever they were, looked her in the eyes and made a bark that sounded like the low frequency rumble of a V8, giving a nod (as best as a lion could), and turned his head to the train, making a pained noise. With that, he proceeded to bolt, running towards the train, leaving her there and then. Hoping she would understand what to do next, where to go, the Range Rover still running, but another option available to her. He wasn't getting on her broom to get where they were going.

The lion strained, Felix hurt, full, and most of all, feeling like he would crash out. He had to get to that train. He'd make it. He just hoped Rowan would because they'd do so much worse to her if she didn't.

It must have been a strange response, irrespective of how Rowan treated that situation, but he was chasing the train, and she had alternative means. It had happened so fast, Rowan must have been confused, but in a strange way, perhaps he hoped in that moment that she'd get herself to safety.

---

Meanwhile inside the train, Oksana exhaled, watching on as the car was hit, and smacked into a rock, barely as she clambered up, looking back and realising that Rowan and Felix hadn't joined them.

"Rowan? Felix? Come in! I fucking told him....fuck's sake. No chance we get him back. Every time I throw myself out of this thing to save his stupid ass, I break myself. Rowan though....fuck. I hope she can make a run for it." Oksana blurted, exhaling, realising jumping from the train at this speed now would be broken legs territory. She didn't want to rely on luck, so trusted they'd get themselves out. Or at least, worst case scenario, the lion that had caused all the shit they were in was left behind.

Peering out of the train as it hit a right hand curve, the sound of distant roaring could be heard, a lot of screaming, and it seemed to continue, more than the gunfire had.

"Felix, Rowan, status? You both alive?" Oksana asked, her foresight unclear, the sound of clinking making her stop.

They hadn't actually checked what was in the modified train car, as Oksana looked to Silas and Borys. The wooden floor and feeling of it felt like it was from 100 years ago, not a modern train system.....yet Polavia felt like it sometimes didn't always roll with the times.

"Oh god. You're not going to believe this." Oksana tittled, gently pulling the fabric cover off the container behind her, revealing dozens and dozens of crates of vodka bottles.

There was more Medlandia than Borys had likely ever seen in his entire life, but the awe must have been completely broken when Oksana tapped her fist against the side of a crate, it making a loud clink, rather thank the deeper.

"Empties." She added, drawing one from the near hundred crates in this carriage alone, and rolling it backwards across the floor, looking to Borys and Silas, a realisation she was with two of the team who could hold their own in drinking.

"We are definitely going to Novy Jork......"

DELTΔ HYPER (Anti-Gravity Racing, Cyberpunk/Solarpunk RP)

Friday 29th September, 2094
Autodromo de Buenos Aires, Argentina
1900 ART

The Shop Window

Cassie Neves

Cassie's phone rang as she left Zygon hospitality post-practice, the voice of Joao Vitor, her agent, deciding to make a phone call that connected as she was headed to her personal trailer. Click to receive, Cassie put hand to ear, the Zygon-branded merch jacket clashing against her pilots inner-suit that she kept on for the time being.

"Joao?"

"We have an update. Carrera."

"You want to talk about it, while I'm in the middle of all of this?"

"Well, get yourself clear." Cassie heard, as she walked across to a quieter part of the cloudy, now-springtime paddock, finding a quiet spot behind another trailer, checking for drones and making sure her implants weren't listening in. If Zygon decided they were, well, they weren't total monsters to their star pilots. At least, she hoped.

"Team is going well. What if Carrera piss up next year's ship?"

"That's up to you."

"Well, things are getting better here."

"Contract is sizable. I would think about it. Zygon's got positive trajectory, but the optics, culture, fit at Carrera are perfect, and they are gonna need it. Match made in heaven."

"I'm guessing by that you mean I'd replace Ava, not Bea. How she hasn't been tapped up is beyond me....so yeah. I get it. The Iberian link." Cassie replied, as the agent chuckled.

"Well, she almost was, and yes, that was what they liked. Point is, their management has started making some big moves, and they made enquires through an intermediary. But they need you to meet. Zygon will keep you as their star if you want them to. You're outscoring Han, so Carrera will pay a pretty penny to get you out of that contract. And given Valkyrie sowed up shop with Max, options for the rest of the grid don't exist. So it's your choice. Terms are similar, and they'll even buyout Zygon's share. The flexibility is greater. I'll send you it on the encrypted box what they're proposing. We haven't got long to decide." Joao added, as Cassie sighed, looking to the overcast heaven, the Scot currently dying her hair with a weird blue-red to match the team's livery this weekend, brushing a strand of it from her face.

"I need an inside view. Big decision." Cassie almost spat back, to the point, the decision beginning to click.

"Would you like me to talk to someone?"

"No, the person I'm thinking of nearly smacked into me a few weeks ago. Then apologised rather politely. Funny how it works." Cassie's lips turned to smile, shaking her head.

"Call you back." Cassie muttered, hanging up the phone.

Back in Zygon world, she checked back in with the team, as always, pretending nothing happened.

---

Friday 29th September, 2094
Autodromo de Buenos Aires, Argentina
2000 ART

Extrapolations

Harrison Makara

Sitting there and looking out at the practice results, Harrison and Nora sat looking at the display, inside the pit box, Owen wanting to talk through it with both of them, together. Being held back after hours felt difficult, but their practice results were without a lack of a word, horrendous.

"We're not doing what we should be. I get it, the track's difficult. But we need to kill the bleeding. Stay on the attack. Get after Amy. We don't do that by sitting back. Or deciding we're not sharing data." Owen simply retorted, looking at them both, simply done with their bullshit.

Looking to Nora, the yellow and silver polymer armed and legged pilot looking back with a grimace, Harrison sighed. Hoping it wouldn't come to this. It looked like Bea and Ava weren't the only ones who'd argued.
"All due respect." He commented, the look of animosity coming out from strain in the season.

"Well, since you two won't have that respect, we've already made that call. Your engineers will talk and share your setups, we're one garage, not two units fighting. For the sake of the team. So don't be nearly pilots. Be the ones that take this intuitive. We've got a chance here to keep that top spot as ours. Let's not fuck this up." Owen added, looking to the delta in the map, a reminder to them both, looking back.

"Any chance we get to stop Amy, is a chance one of you two will get to take top spot. But that gap is growing, and if you don't work together, you can forget about any chance we have of holding a candle to them this season. Lowry is hunting us in the Constructors. And remember what happens to us if we lose that top spot. Are we understood?"

Both pilots nodded, as with it, the team boss, Owen Keating, suddenly was in the sofa, with the background behind him.

"Was it hard having that talk with them both?"

"Yeah, well, it isn't exactly a fun choice. It isn't what I'd prefer to do. But, you have to set it out."

"Would you say that's a nice problem to have?"

"Well, have you ever had two people who want the same thing, fight it out? It's understandable from their point of view. But from mine, I see two pilots willing to give it their all for the Whanau and so many Polynesians that would love to be in those ships. Best we deliver without arguments."

---

Saturday 30th September, 2094
Autodromo de Buenos Aires, Argentina
1000 ART

Fame

Hamid Atlassi

The Moroccan's white-bleached hair stuck out as he signed away at fans that had come to Al-Saqr's fanzone, the growing fanbase all shifting from Layla to him. He was a hell of a lot more outgoing, and for the Arabic Union based Al-Saqr, suddenly a growing star. Kais Zenix may have had his marketing, his ventures and his own way of doing things, but Hamid had grown in popularity once he hit the points. So signing autographs on posters, tablets, arms, and all sorts of places, as well as being at the fore.....made him an obvious target in the interview room for Aurora's questioning.

A kid ran over, with a hand drawn picture of the Al-Saqr ship, and Hamid gleefully signed it away, a pentagonal star at the end of his name that always came with heritage of where he came from.

Things were going on in the background. Things he didn't want to dwell on. Or wasn't exposed to.

"You and Kais seem very different when it comes to marketing. Why is that?" Aurora asked in the cabin, Hamid sitting there with his legs crossed, white and green faux-leather jacket on, sunglasses in hand from whenever this element had been filmed.

"Habibi, I'm open! I remember being a kid and being excited. So I put myself in the right place. Kais focuses on the race. I'm extraverted. People person. I feed off that."

"Would you collaborate with another team's initiative, if asked?"

"Well, officially....I can't answer that! But, I think we have to share the love. We forget so easy. It's so hard to become a pilot. So difficult to do. So I pay back my child, my young self by giving others the same hope. #FansFirst is a great initiative. I would love to do something like it." Hamid smiled, beaming at footage.

That cut easily into a 6-year old Hamid on what was old home-video like footage, with a composite framed cart, framed on an old F1 design, smiling and standing by it with a bicycle helmet, absolutely glowing with pride with the thing he absolutely loved.

---

Saturday 30th September, 2094
Autodromo de Buenos Aires, Argentina
1000 ART

Infamy

Ava Villarosa

The fans at the Carrera Condor fanzone were also out in droves, crowding the place. This was a flagship event, absolutely as big as it could be. And while Bea had her adoring fans, almost in the hundreds, like having an entire Silverstone crowd to herself in the same way the Europeans loved Paul came to see the Chilean. She was not Argentine, that was 100% different to having Bea's predecessor in, but, she was Latina, she was of the area, and given Chilean and Argentine relations had cooled, despite history, she was still seen as the region's best racer in a generation. Ava towered over most, even on her prosthetics, her posture and pre-amputation height maintained by this in particular.

Ava enjoyed this. She was getting over the pain of the split with Bea by at least reaching out to people, replacing the hole in her heart from thinking she actually had a friend, to swallowing the adoration of her fans and the distraction it gave. Something about not being liked, but being loved. It tugged at her, but Rey encouraged her to keep her mind off it and engage with fans.

Signing away, Ava kept close to the forefront, before one fan decided to pipe up. Probably not Argentine, given the English accent bringing him here to the relatively cheap tickets and epic views at the packed out Autodromo.

Which was brave. In Argentina, English was not maybe the best voice to have.

"You're full of shit! You're holding back Bea!" The voice called, clearly at the wrong fan meet. Very clearly, in negative IQ, but passion was one thing. Response was immediate.

"Puta, you won't support our own, English bastard!" Another yelled back in Argentine-tinted Spanish, and Ava backed away, realising quite what was about to happen.

And suddenly, shit absolutely hit the fan. One man punched another, and Ava was quickly extracted away, as security immediately lept in and contained someone else throwing a flare.

It felt like even in trying to hold back, the flames stoked, but the feeling of violence never too far. Ava had never seen obsession like this. Some fans had gotten angry in spite of Carrera's rise, not at management, but at the divide that had leaked, and then been encouraged by Leon in the press.

"Was it hard dealing with the fallout between you and Bea? The rumours, I mean..."

"I would rather not talk about it. Next question." Ava cut Aurora off, there and then, arms folded, looking dead to camera.

"And the rivalry between the team in Argentina and Britain?"

"Next." Ava burnt a hole in the viewer.

---

Saturday 30th September, 2094
Autodromo de Buenos Aires, Argentina
1020 ART

Relations

Ben Hale

The phone rang inside his trailer, as Ben finished up with the VIP meet and mingle session, NOVA making its most of the morning and letting local celebrities in where they couldn't into the now packed out Carrera Condor sector. Orchard Capital, in particular had brought some hot shots in, so Ben was wheeled out to chat all things racing, while Florence did the last minute work in the sim, wanting to extract a bit more from the ship. In his black and green-lined undersuit, the barely 19 year old pilot was readied to go, leaning against the wall with phone in hand, with Amber's face on it.

A pinch of finger, and Amber's voice animated.

"Hey."

"Hey." Ben tried to play it cool, the Swiss on the other end of the phone almost certainly calling about something Ben had wanted to get back to her on. More than the fast message last night.

"Sorry I couldn't make the date. Look, you know how it is." Ben spluttered, feeling the silence needed filling.

"Okay, okay. I get it. Big shot AG pilot now. You don't mingle with us juniors." It was becoming a little clearer who this was. Amber Beck, Nordic Call, JAGF pilot. Two young lovers, for sure, and even in spite of being in two different teams, had barely been reported on in the field of Ben's youth and his high performance in the Junior AG league.

It was some melodramatic bullshit to pick, but, from the moment Ben met Amber in the lower leagues, they'd chatted, their families in similar circles, and well, one thing led to another. Dating another racer was silly, beyond stupid, even management told him that. But 18 year olds made decisions that weren't always fuelled by the right thing.

"No, it's....well, okay, it was a really serious dinner. Florence introduced me to....well, I can't say."

"You, and your ego are just blowing up like a balloon. Can't say? Look at you now."

"Well, you just weren't as fast as me. You'd be here too."

"Cheeky." Amber replied, as they both laughed, Ben looking out of the window, seeing the crowds thin, as the VIPs left and were headed for their next engagement. Meaning he'd be joining Florence in the sim for more work soon.

"I'll make it up to you. Nova Cadiz Asado. Tonight. After your race. I'll watch it once I'm done in the sim." Ben replied, Amber leaving a silence, with a contemplation.

"I will just have to clear my heaving schedule. So much to think about, so many events to reschedule..."

"Oh, funny...."

"Yeah, yeah. This is why pilots don't date." Ben added, cutting it off hearing the sound of footsteps up the stairs to his trailer. "Really sorry, but I need to run. Love you lots."

"You too. Good luck." Ben put down the phone, seeing one of the engineers come past the window and knock, and with that, phone was thrown back, and pilot Ben was back in the building.

---

Round 14 of Formula AG
Saturday 30th September, 2094
Qualifying
Autodromo de Buenos Aires, Argentina
Argentine AGP
1300 ART

Magnetised

Jen Lowry

Soundtrack: KOAN Sound- Spirals Unfold

"Clear, Jen. Let's get after it." The voice from Cal put her in her mind back in the zone.

The track itself may have started and ended at the old Oscar y Juan Gálvez Circuit start-straight, but it quickly ended up being nothing like it- from tarmac onto complete MAG tracking, that made grip basically vice-like through most corners, making ships go from slip to stick. The camber was basically 70 degrees on the hardest of hairpins, making them come across as much shallower turns than they were given how hard the ships were planted into the corner through the seat- but thanks to their positioning, making it safe for spectators to actually watch ships go toe to toe through them, watching them as if they were seeing them come in top-down given perspective. Most of the MAG tracking was built on a specialist glass or seethrough surface, making it possible to see at Turns 3 and 12/13 the ships literally fly towards each other yet opposite to each other, on different panels of glass.

The feeling of modernity bled through the stands, with the spectators right against the track, with enormous field generators allowing for ships to come incredibly close to watching spectators- while offering them an outlet if they collided or crashed. It blended safety with spectator views, in a way few circuits really did- while it may not have been to a traditionalists liking that the original circuit was butchered, it created a spectacle and good racing, rarely two things that blended.

Curva 1 leading to a massive ramp that led into a massive banked turn that had a view onto the rest of the circuit and the towers of Buenos Aires, before coming down at Turns 3 and 4, before slamming out at 6 into a hard, long bank. A long straight allowed for a lovely burst of speed, allowing for a massive burst of speed into 7, at 8 using a similar banking to keep speeds high, and make up for the original circuit's deficit of breaking up flow- with MAG tracking, the circuit felt a lot faster than its layout appeared to give, MAG tracking in corners also making it easier to pick lines for overtakes and dump ELS. Here, it felt like every overtake really relied on ELS, and just making brave, hard moves through the corners at any given moment. At Turn 12, the circuit went underneath its own banking, literally going upside down onto the other part of the circuit before coming back down into where Turn 13 and 14 at the Senna S restored itself back to the only part of the circuit maintained- a tarmac section that led to the Turn 16 transparent-glass bank (in front of lots of roaring fans), and the chicane at 17/18 that used a fun inverted camber to force ships to slow down, ratchet hard right and left, before slamming on the gas without hitting the wall. The lap was short, barely over a minute, but it had this "one more time" feeling to it. Unlike other circuits earlier in the season which were lengthy, long affairs of super fast, long corners, this felt like a challenge to

A thrilling lap, given most of it was taken near full throttle, and the pilot inside.

"Jen, that is P1! P1 Jen, stellar lap, where did you get that from! Your Q3 looked absolutely dialled in, that's close to a lap record!"

"Woo! That's what I'm talking about!" Jen chirped back, backing up Cal's confidence from earlier, and proving that in spite of spotty performance, she still had what it took. The ship was of course, still a cut of the field, but today, she put the time in. It seemed strange. Jamie had completely missed the mark, lost his way despite a promising season, but Jen, she seemed to have something else up her sleeve.

Like Amy? Or was it the ship finally being tamed and set to her feeling? The speculation was uncertain, but Silver Apex seemed to be back, and to take back 1st in the constructors was a worthy gambit.

Qualifying Results for Italy:

docs.google.com/spreadsheets/d/1qF6cn…

The others experienced varying laps. Paul had clearly gotten an optimal ELS tune, finding a ship that absolutely sang thanks to a rested, focussed team, able to make the most out of each corner and in theory, on a circuit that demanded an incredibly potent ELS system given the amount of MAG tracking, had just lost out to Jen being on one. While Beatrix had done well, it was almost out of stubbornness- the team wanted to do well at their home race, and despite Ava being away, it was a home race for Carrera. She wasn't letting the fans down, and almost as if fuelled by a want to prove Bea wrong, was holding pace.

As if a fuck you, look at me now.

It was a statement to get ahead of Amy, who was struggling, but showing promise on certain sectors, never a threat to rule out. Hamid had absolutely gotten his ship places it shouldn't have, and the sparks of promise were beginning to show. Even if Florence Mason had fried her power unit in Sector 3, and caused a red flag right at the start of the season, poor luck dampening an initially promising start for NOVA.

---

Saturday 30th September, 2094
Autodromo de Buenos Aires, Argentina
1745 ART

Post Qualifying Interview- Argentina

Post qualifying, the sunset came in on the elevated MAG track, and at the main office building, almost marble-white and surrounded by greenery was a rooftop where Aurora had a chance to catch up with each of the pilots.

"Bea, third place in Argentina, and it puts you next to Paul Mulder. Tell us, how are you looking forward to battling with him again, after your previous fight in Singapore, and who could forget your massive duel in Belgium!"

And inversely....

"Paul, second on the grid, showing that whatever it seems to be that you're doing! How are you feeling about fighting with Beatrix tomorrow, and making the best of your grid position, and what looks like a breakthrough ELS system?"

On the other hand....

"Kais, not the best performance from you, but it looks like your ship seems to still be breaking all the records at the speedtraps. Tell us more about Al-Saqr's speed focussed strategy, and how you're getting on with taming it?"

Dispatch: Welcome to SDN!

Soundtrack: Night Tapes - Drifting

James Speight.docx

Civilian

James Alan Speight

"Christ, how the fuck are we meant to keep with the KPI of "don't break the infrastructure" when you're constantly giving it a go?"

Age: 33

Appearance:

Pale-skinned and lightly ginger, James is lanky in a way that suggests equal parts sleepless nights and too much time hunched over spreadsheets. He burns far too easy in the Californian sun.

He dresses like every tech-adjacent consultant, with rolled-up sleeves, slim-fit shirts, different colours of chinos while wearing a pair of square, designer glasses. 6"0 tall and with a face that has caught and broken hearts, James gives off the vibe of someone who makes it look effortless, a certain charm on him at all times with a comeback for anyone and anything, even if he's weathered and a transplant to a new continent.

He looks a little dead inside, even in the sunshine of LA- even if he seems to be an outgoing guy, his face displays someone who is through with American optimism and just deals in results, something that will excite you or piss you off. A classic consultant.

If SDN and the world of Dispatch is the US adaption of The Office, then James is definitely coming from the UK version of The Office, and he absolutely is through with the optimism and excitement of everyone, in favour of just wanting to get shit done. He might be beginning to crack, but what you're seeing is someone who chose business practical, and results over formality.

There’s always a tablet under his arm or a headset around his neck. He moves quickly, talks quickly, and thinks even faster, and by American standards, he's got a lot of colloquialism he hasn't shaken, in spite of consulting in the US for a while.

Face Claim / Voice Actor: Eddie Redmayne

Role at SDN:

Hero Development Consultant.

James is a freelance consultant, but at this point, he's basically a part of the SDN team full time, as there aren't exactly any other networks he could work with, not beyond some weird little startups. With experience of SDN's network on the East Coast and experience from the UK's equivalent branches, James is the critical link between the R&D teams, heroes, dispatchers and management. He crunches numbers, and more often than not, is advising the Branch Management of how to "improve synergy" or "deliver key stakeholder KPIs".

Does this sound like some bullshit? It is!

Day to day, James's job is much more simple. James is the person who if he isn't sitting at the dispatch monitor himself (if short-staffed), is likely the point of contact for the team's professional development, training, and mentoring- and works with not just the Claremont office, but across the LA region, taking his experience of looking after Sophie to basically help heroes where their dispatchers can't. That includes the Phoenix Programme, who he has been particularly involved in- and sees as his ticket in getting closer within SDN, because he's often the one working any angle the branch need to get the former villains involved.

James's job is to make sure the teams operate at their best, even if he isn't really contributing much more than others in actual work- mostly being a glorified middle man that just finds ways to link one member of the team to another. If the Branch Manager and Dispatchers might be the ones calling the shots on heroes, James is in the background, making sure they've got what they need to do their jobs, or at least, able to find someone who can. Given that SDN hasn't found anyone who can do that long term, James is their man until they find a hire for the role, that strangely enough, nobody has been hired for yet. Paying a fat cheque for this service does seem a bit stupid, but James is involved in redundancy, efficiency and other decisions across the network, and so far, he seems to be doing a good job of it. A good consultant never makes himself redundant, after all....

If you bribe him with good tea and a solid pack of biscuits, he will get you what you need by pulling on some levers, but he's fundamentally an outsider- so his view on SDN isn't of company loyalty, but deliverables, results and getting everything running as it should.

Being in Claremont means his role conveniently works out nicely given it gives him the ability to work with his sister- who he's also been a bit of an agent for before, and now gives him an excuse to be somewhere he might not normally be. Being based in LA also gives him a chance towards a permanent role within SDN as a permanent Director within the firm- arguing for his indispensable nature. His long term goal is to climb the management of SDN, rather than dealing in the day-to-day, but time will tell if that ruthless progression is going to change him, or he'll need to adapt to go where he needs to.

Problem is, it's really hard to do that when you have a 9th century, Vinland-originating shieldmaiden and some guy who can spit acid in the way who are also chasing more senior positions.

Background:

Born and raised in Manchester, UK, James was always the analytical one of the two siblings. James was the stereotypical eldest child: clever, wired, academically terrifying, the "responsible one" even when nobody asked him to be. He was always more analyst than athlete- always cleverer, like he had himself directed at something greater. When Sophie manifested her powers and nearly died, James immediately pivoted his ambitions; he wasn’t going to be a hero, but he’d damn well make sure she survived being one. Coming from Moss Side, James spent his youth misspent, and he wouldn't say he was a "hero" from the get go. He wanted nothing more than to just bugger off to uni and find a different life, yet from the moment his sister got powers, he was immediately went from the older sibling always bickering, to wanting immediately wanting to protect her and make sure she did the right thing.

It was like in that moment he had a responsibility to protect her from her own self, knowing the stories of other supes and how easy it would be to slip. A world it turned out, he could actually monetise.

He earned an undergraduate degree in Business Management from the University of Manchester before being recruited by the UK's Superhuman Response Unit- working a side gig as Lightning Girl's fixer, agent and minder. It wasn't always smooth sailing, but between his ability to wrangle problems and her ability to fill them full of voltage, they made a good team- even when they were apart due to work commitments. After five years of optimizing response times and resource allocation and working in SDN's UK branches, he was headhunted by SDN (America) and sponsored on a work visa.

Why move to the US? Well, his sister was on the payroll there, and he was brought in as a reliable hand, knowing how heroes operate and what they need to succeed. And he had the ability to work remotely, so, that was what he did.

James was sponsored on a work visa by SDN, who continued to employ him for projects in Baltimore, Boston, Denver, and now, in Los Angeles, specifically, the smaller branch at Claremont that despite being less of a dumpster fire than the operation in Burbank and the often chaotic Torrance Branch. Sophie's want to live in LA, always a dream of hers was one that James has finally decided to join in with- Sophie being the local and James being lost, it just made sense that SDN needed help and so, he came in and based himself at the office there.

While a specialist for SDN network-wide, James's main activities are turning out to be the Claremont office- and he works with a wide roster of the team, usually coming into contact with everyone.

Powers:

None. While James is relatively fit, versus most heroes he hasn't got anything "super" about him. Unless you count an exceptionally good talent for Excel. Or being incredibly dry sometimes. This is a running gag.

Likes:

-Brew Co Earl Grey tea (proper stuff, not that American hot water with a bag)
-Data visualization tools (and how much he hates how outdated SDN's systems are)
-Rainy days (reminds him of home)
-Classic British sitcoms
-Classic Rock Music, Britpop, 80s Music
-Keeping Sophie alive (and being a supportive big brother)
-Books on Business Management

Dislikes:
-Corporate jargon (despite using it himself)
-Heroes who ignore protocol
-American coffee
-When his sister shows off unnecessarily
-Budget cuts
-Paperwork that serves no purpose
-Being called a "parasite" (whatever that is)

Quirks:

-Speaks with a slight Mancunian accent that gets more pronounced when he's stressed

-Has memorized every single expense and cost centre code for SDN.

-Stress-eats Fisherman's Friends. Sophie brings him boxes of the stuff from the UK on her weekends off, and if you try one, you'll be disgusted.

-Has memorised all of the training modules that he has to teach you and is bored of this

-Comes across as more cynical, and used to the way of work in America- but still relishes in it and the processes of SDN. He's moved a lot, and is clearly fatigued, but sees LA for a traffic clogged, difficult city but doesn't hide behind the good the work does, and the worth he brings to it.

Theme Song: The Stone Roses - She Bangs The Drums

---

Sophie Speight.docx / Lightning Girl.docx

Civilian

Sophie Elise Speight

(FC, with changes in appearance listed)

"Let's go cross some wires!"

Age: 29

Appearance:

White-haired, Sophie is truly a diva of her own making- she never was like this (having more red-hair like James, and being quieter), but electricity has turned her a little different paired to her now grey eyes. It's a manner that she manages to pull off even out of her costume, looking a bit more gaudy than some with that white hair. She sometimes bleaches her hair with blue tips, if she's feeling the mood to show off a bit. On off days, she's even returned back to her original red-chestnut hair, but once the mask is on, she's all white.

At around 6"2, Sophie is quite the opposite of James. The powers giving her a little bit of height and muscle density, Sophie comes across as an old-school hero, with a silhouette that occupies any doorway or skyline, even if she didn't have electricity in her, being enough for her to mess you up pretty badly. An athlete's physique, a moderate amount of chest, and plenty of shoulders and legs that have come from benching weights James would even gawk at. Sure, she's a stereotype, but then again, with that much electricity in her fingers? She's practically occupied in that. There's a certain kind of beauty to her, with a heart-shaped face and a poise that is contrasted by the strong smell of ozone and burnt toast you almost get when she seemed to be "live".

It would work great, if she didn't sunburn really badly. Powers do not stop that, so she's constantly on Factor 50, and that absolutely takes away that "girl next door" vibe that Sophie seems to give off. Being British in LA is like being Prince Harry in....actually, that is not going anywhere as a reference, so we'll leave it there! Herr British voice becoming more of a "transatlantic" tone, like she's an American from the 1920s.

Her civilian fashion tends toward practical but fancy clothing, from premium t-shirts, leather jackets, gym gear and whatever she feels makes her look good, out of the line of work come on.

Faceclaim: Alice Levine
Voice Claim: Hayley Atwell

Role at SDN:

Hero for Dispatch.

Sophie was headhunted and with a move to LA, put in was impossible to say no to. She loved the idea of moving there given her obsession over Hollywood and the lights, and while not in the DTLA dream team, she is knocking on that door, as a figurehead that is no rookie to this line of work, but absolutely to the US and the dreamy vision of superheroes that sometimes ends up a bit more complicated.

Background:

Growing up as James's younger sister, Sophie was quiet, reserved, and while sporty, growing up as the younger sibling to a brother that seemed clever and all wired up. Instead of his nerdy behaviour, she was always into activities like running, football, being outdoorsy, and also liking all girly things that all teenage girls liked. Bit of crochet from her mum too. She still does love it. She was a wallflower, unsure of what she wanted, but well, she'd work it out, but otherwise, a rather normal teen. Brought up with a dad who worked all the time, and a mum who made every end meet in their relatively less-affluent upbringing in Moss Side.

That was, until Sophie was struck by a lightning bolt that sparked out of a fragment of a comet, which just so happened to smack into the park where her and her friends were playing football, aged 15.

(It's a stereotype, but, being the unlucky victim of a celestial body's is one hell of a way to get powers. Especially when it's totally not a rip off from Misfits right?)

Getting a power that way is quite interesting- because instead of dying, she shut off the power an entire hospital down when she came to, being on life support that needed her a lot less than any doctors realised. She healed quickly, but was found that electricity would just shoot out of her.

Often uncontrollably at first, but she was addicted to leeching, then transmitting power. And realising she could fly. And take significantly less amounts of damage than most. It was as if the electricity healed her, fuelled her, and made her more potent than she could ever believe. Sophie had a hunger to go to substations and just sit there and keep sucking up power until she felt like she'd drunk five Red Bulls. And sometimes, blow the power out for thousands.

An electricity based hero then. Sophie discovered that having millions of kilowatts running through her made her a bona-fide powerhouse, and she was fitter, faster, flightier, a blur of ozone-like electricity-crackling. She went to the gym more, and found gains went from little to lots, because her metabolism was frankly broken. She stopped playing football when she realised she basically deflected tackles (and people) and was shocking everyone with static all of the time. Heroes like her were a bit unsporting, so she turned her hobbies to crochet.....and fighting crime, and, making a living out of it. The comet's effects weren't totally understood- but a personality shift felt like it came along with the power too, maybe as it crept to her head and made her want to project a version of control, order, and putting things right, her way.

Her red hair seemed to turn pale white, her bone density and musculature grew as she suddenly went from quiet athletic girl to superpowered woman (mostly through metabolic diversion and those relentless amount of Rocky-grade training montages in the gym), and in time, she found herself trying to navigate putting her powers to good and bad. A few run ins made her realise villainy was not worth the effort- and doing good felt good and came suddenly with attention that she was growing to absolutely adore. It was easy to steal, take what she'd like but realistically, her powers meant she was rewarded for what she did by those she helped. Small at first, but suddenly, being a hero for hire added up.

And the attention she hadn't had as a younger sister, she now absolutely got in spades when she was Lightning Girl, in a costume designed by her brother and designer friend, and able to project all her confidence through it. She could be someone she wasn't, out of the shadow of her brother, the strong, capable, saviour of Moss Side.

And with James's guidance, the two made sure Sophie was in the right place, right time, solving crimes with James running behind the scenes (and the mountains of paperwork it caused the Greater Manchester Police), and Sophie non-lethally shocking the crap out of anyone, recovering stolen property and finding missing people among many things- to really become the hero she wanted to be with all eyes on her now. She had a gift- best use it, she said to herself, and get something from it. Manchester needed a hero, and Sophie was that, among a field of supers with augments, she still stood out as the one that dominated the city. Even while he was at university, Sophie always relied on him, and she then spent time in London working with a local start-up called "PowerServe", rather than SDN that dealt with emerging talents like her. A certain security for response, and Sophie made quite the mark, even if she wasn't the most experienced, or best of heroes in London, she got into the right circles and became a standout.

SDN came calling, and Sophie's skills were what brought her over to the United States, chasing sunshine versus the bleak grey of London. The money was significantly more, and well, the promise of a high level role came calling when it was in LA- the sort of place that really put a hero on the map, and someone like Lightning Girl? Well, she was born to run. Though.....that role turned out not to be DTLA, Claremont called instead due to....reasons that are still unknown to her. Still, better than rainy England (especially for her powers) and she saw it as a stepping stone to something bigger, and despite the eye-watering numbers for an apartment, she's made herself at home as a well-established member of the team.

Being deployed in Claremont was maybe not Sophie's idea of making it "big in LA", with her eyes still turned to the DTLA team and joining in the big leagues, seeing some of the local stuff as below her (and perhaps one of her flaws, that despite being a hero, she's really a bit too progress minded from James's mentoring. Lightning Girl certainly has her eyes upwards- though not being a local is something she'd adapting to, given perhaps she's more "hero for hire" than she grounded. It turns out Lightning Girl can run on 110V just as well as 240V so her powers, thankfully, are unaffected. She still loves what she does and with James just joining her, is looking to move onto the next step and go save the day even more, and maybe, just maybe, even get her dream house in the Hollywood Hills. She's always liked the idea of making it big, and the quiet girl from Manchester becoming a superhero superstar in Los Angeles? Well, so far she's found few things to stop her....

Yet behind the scenes, Sophie still struggles with that image. She's more personally confident, sure, but she's still looking for something and feels like chasing the image, status, becoming the best version of herself, still lacks something. Moving halfway across the world has left her without friends, and the wallflower still wants to be loved, if not found for who she is becoming, as well as the hero she outwardly projects.

Hero Persona

Lightning Girl

Appearance:

As Lightning Girl, Sophie wears a skintight white and grey coloured spandex and ballistic cordura costume from neck to ankles (arms/legs in grey, torso in off white), with the grey creating a silvery Lichtenberg scar-like effect across where it contrasts with the off-white, with a pearlescent-like silver cape (not always worn). A bit of yellow stitching across all the seams, and what appears to be a Honey Bee (a symbol of Manchester) is sown into her collar. It's the look of efficiency when paired to a classic carbon-fibre black mask that covers eyes, forehead and nose, with platinum/white hair. It's safe to say that Sophie has relished in her image as this, and has gone from quiet and reserved to maximalist, larger than life and able to light up any environment she walks into.

Literally.

Paired to a pair of grey leather boots that complete the ensemble, a pair of white fingerless gloves that go up to her elbows (and black arm-long rubber gloves she carries with her in a convenient hip-pack to make sure she doesn't shock anyone she carries), Sophie is a beaming, classic hero that absolutely has been honed in on by James and then SDN's marketing team. A little bit of Blonde Blazer, perhaps, but if you're gonna have a classic hero, sometimes simple is best!

Powers:

Able to cast electricity, Sophie is your classic electrokinesis styled hero, flinging bolts of electricity out of her fingers / hands, but equally versatile in being able to use her fists like a tazer, and be significantly more resilient than a normal human being, considerate of the fact she's more or less got electricity supercharging her metabolism constantly. She's effectively an incredibly dense battery (Batgirl was taken, so she worked with the obvious alternative)- that can charge as high as far as she's reasonably able to. Capable of static-based flight- of which she can fly at nearly the speed of sound (when juiced up to roughly an energy from waste's plant entire hourly power output). However, that means being carried / moved by her like being exposed to a static shock from a door (hence why she always carries rubber gloves). All of this means Sophie is relatively powerful for a superhero and is a versatile tool in any Dispatcher's arsenal. A Swiss Army Knife if you will, that turns on the charm, and even if she hasn't got the intellect, she has the talk as an exotic, export of a hero that naturally can do good, and make any chance to make her look good while doing it. She isn't tanky, super fast, super capable, or the cleverest in the room- but she absolutely will give every one of those categories a good go, and probably get hurt trying.

TLDR:
Electrokinesis: Launches bolts, arcs, and fields of electricity
Static Flight: Propels herself with directed bursts; not effortless, but fast
Superhuman Physique: Enhanced strength, reflexes, and durability due to electric overcharge
Shock Strikes: Punches like a living taser
EMP Bursts: Can short out tech (though James hates when she does this)

Likes:
-The warm buzz of getting zapped by a transformer of high voltage electricity (we really, really do not want to talk about the fact she seems almost a bit *too* eager to get zapped)
-Earl Grey Tea (like James, but more obsessed in that she'll physically fly back home to get it, even if the commute is at least several hours)
-Indie / Electronica / Synthwave
-The smell of ozone
-Thunderstorms (see above)
-Sitting on the Hollywood Sign
-Social interaction (as Lightning Girl)
-Crochet (she has made endless amounts of stuff in the office while sitting waiting to be deployed)

Dislikes:
-Rubber Matting (it feels very uncomfortable to walk on)
-Water and Fire Foam/Powder (really messes around with her ability to fling bolts)
-American Coffee
-Her brother telling her to calm down
-Swimming (skin reacts all funny to it)
-Social interaction (as Sophie)

Quirks:

-Sophie's powers rely heavily on keeping electrical charge- and while having a base level of "bioelectricity" in her body, that means she'll always have power from eating and drinking, she'll need to crank herself up. Whilst not a "villainous" trait, Sophie will hang off power lines, transformers and such to keep her powers topped up, and she has to be careful not to accidentally destroy infrastructure that's hooked up to it, because she is basically a data centre's worth of energy. She'll physically be exhausted if she hasn't gotten power from one in a while and a bit low. Thankfully, a plug socket is usually not far away, and if not that, she'll usually be able to "make do". If it makes current, or could make a current, she'll use it. Nobody quite knows what the limit of what she can take is, and everyone agrees- it's probably best not to find out...

-She's a walking powerbank. An ability that was once poorly used, she's learned how to set her mind to exactly the right frequency to charge phones, laptops and other devices. This is a fun trick at bars because she can literally point her finger at phones and charge them.

-Sophie glows white when using her powers, particularly when she's on "charge". Her eyes turn a pale white.

-Sophie rain with a passion- it affects her skin (shorting her out), but also reduces her potency (not entirely given the costume, but it still pisses her off). Lightning storms though, do absolutely flip that notion and massively outweigh the negatives of rain.

-Lightning Girl has a fairly popular series of social media accounts- she's pretty enough to be into modelling work on the side, but also doesn't like the idea of going all the way down that rabbit hole as her alter ego. Her personal, non hero self is a bit more shy.

-Speaking of which- her personality is a rather mixed bag. Similar to James, Sophie is sometimes dry, but finds that like her split personality as a hero, she's reserved when in a more personal setting. There's this feeling of insecurity, uncertainty almost- she's moved halfway across the world, but she still misses home, and somehow, despite smiling for camera, has a lot to get used to in the sunny coastal state, even though she still wants to be in DTLA, and seems a little too focussed on that right now- forcing herself to be in that position and believe in the dream anyone of her capability might have. She's an outsider- and has still got to make friends, still got to learn how America works, and find out who Sophie is a bit more, not just the persona she's hiding behind.

Theme Song: Wolf Alice- Delicious Things

Dispatch: Welcome to SDN!

@RisingRobin

The mention of Mr Mephisto is a deep cut of lore, but we're here for it :)

How long until the RP gets underway? Very keen to get started, seems like we have a good crew to kick things off :)

@Thayr

Yep Myla definitely seems like the dark to Sophie's light! I think they'll be a really fun dynamic, there's so much they have in opposite, but also a lot of overlap.

Dispatch: Welcome to SDN!

@Sadu

Loving this char's vibe!

Classic "rainbow" versus "goth" energy.

DELTΔ HYPER (Anti-Gravity Racing, Cyberpunk/Solarpunk RP)

Outro to Singapore

The commentary crew had little more to say, as Aurora wrapped things up, on the now deserted track, walking down the start-finish straight in her signature look, smell-o-vision (if it even existed) probably that of ozone and ethanol, looking to camera.

"Well, what a result for Paul Mulder, but there's still a long fight to go for the drivers and constructors championship in the next rounds. Join us in Argentina as we take a short few weeks away from racing but head towards a double header, where the championship battle will no doubt get more intense. Goodbye from us at Delta Hyper, and we'll see you very soon!" Aurora beamed, as the outro played.

Like that, the camera turning to the glistening lights of Singapore, the fighting amongst the ships, the blur of Paul on the podium top step, and the hit between Amy and Nora, started to play out what felt like a season that couldn't quite make its mind up on where the next twist in the round would come.

---

COMPOSITE /// CORDILLERA /// FLARE

Soundtrack: Floating Points- Falaise

The laying down of track, bit by bit. Metal being bonded by drones.

The sound of optimism. People moving about, engineers with machines, androids doing about 98% of the work, but a handful watching over them.

This is the construction of a racetrack.

The crackle-pop of rally cars in El Condor. The sound of a 5 cylinder Audi Quattro, morphing into Helena Starcross's violent, screaming 5-pot F1 car in Argentina, many, many decades back.

Dust, soil being pushed up. Setting up a new embankment, with repulsons being mounted in by a bunch of UAVs. And more sparks.

The roar of 90s F1 cars. Appearing in the sparks, in the metal, in the reflection back, visible.

And then, the screaming whine of an AG ship. The scream of the crowd. The sparks pitching into an Argentinian fan's face, painted white and blue, blue, red and white, yellow, red, and gently turning into a blur almost rainbow like, into the hull of the Carrera Condor ship. And the sound of chanting.

Almost animalistic.

The tattoo of a ship on a Chilean's chest, the shirts sold by Bea Ward, Carrera merch aplenty, drowning out the Silver Apex, and then other Southern Cross merch memorabilia that followed in popularity behind it.

Flares. Pyro. Chanting. Yelling. Crowds.

The slow-mo shot of an entire company's worth it felt like, of fans refusing to shut up.

And the scream of speed coming back, as the weld finished, revealing Buenos Aires Autodromo, made anew for AG.

---

Sitting there in the sofa, background behind, Peter Thatcher had many things to think about to Aurora's question.

"Did it go the way I thought it would? I mean, you tell me. A late swing at things." Peter replied, hearing that direct question.

"Pressure is still on. Nora responded far better than anyone we thought could. And well, we're still in the constructors lead." Owen felt like he had little to add from his last time, but the point felt valid.

"We're still waiting to see how our improvements put us back. Signs are promising. We just have to keep up the pace." Jinwoo coldly stated, quite the opposite to that of Sally Morrigan of NOVA, who was no doubt, feeling that pressure to deliver after the old Fitzroy resurgence that had begun a few races back.

"No miracles. But things don't happen fast, well, relatively in AG, not when everyone's going 600kph and what seems quick to us, it slow to you. It's all about putting something in place. Then unwinding when we can." The smile from the green and yellow-liveried team boss was a candid one, contrasted by that of Ricky Millar, of MMR fame.

"It's bit a sh*tshow." And he laughed, shaking his head, knowing all swirling rumours continued in how his star pilot would be replaced next year.

---

DELTΔ HYPER

Episode Fourteen: The Tango Swing

---

Round 14 of Formula AG
Friday 29th September, 2094
Practice Day
Autodromo Buenos Aires, Argentina
Argentine AGP
1100 UTC-3

Wrong Way Up

Once again, the format had been changed a little bit.

The sofa sat on the circuit, it seemed at a completely normal angle. You know, the horizon seemed level, the track behind it in metal, the highly advanced skyline of Buenos Aires in the background.

And then, as if to piss people off, the camera suddenly tilted. Revealing the skyscrapers were the wrong way up.

The entire thing was upside down, on one of the more weird points. With MAG tracking, ships were the thing that would have to cling to this, but with the right footwear, you could walk upside down.

Now, having blood pumping into your head was not ideal, so a pilot suit would do to keep the blood from falling into a pilot's brain like a bottle of upturned Coke.

And a hologram of Aurora beamed out, as each of the pilots from Delta Hyper took a seat, confusingly, upside down, a seatbelt handy. Without an augmented body, this wasn't really possible, so this mindfuck of a stunt for an interview wouldn't last long at all.

"Bea, we're at the home of Carrera Condor! What a turnaround it has been for your team, and from your comments, it sounds like you're taking things stuff upside down. How have you engaged with the fans locally, given we've seen so much of your #FansFirst intiative? Anything to say to the fans, in Espanol?"

Paul was next up.

"Paul, welcome to the southern hemisphere, so to return, we put the sofa the way you might see it from Belgium! With the Junior FIAR grid not often going to circuits with the extreme amounts of inversion and MAG tracking as the cutting edge Buenos Aires circuit, what do you think you can do with a ship that so far this year, seems to be a cut above in handling?"

And lastly, Kais.

"Kais, welcome to the upside down sofa! We're back in the southern hemisphere, how would you say you're helping Hamid get used to the pressures of the seat?

---

La París de Sudamérica

The teams had probably had to be careful. Buenos Aires, and Sao Paolo in particular, were not the other parts of the grid that the teams maybe were used to. Even Cape Town, once one of the most dangerous cities on the planet, had been tamed, but in South America, the passion seemed unfazed. It felt like it was just insanely built up in the city centre into blocks and towers, densely populated with those who hadn't worked in the mines, staying in they grey, underground economy. From augments to other less-legal aspects, Buenos Aires felt actually cool, it didn't feel like the "man" in Singapore with perfection, nor even a vision of equitable utopia in New Hilo.

The nickname of "Paris of South America" was true, given the gloriously extravagant Colonial-era buildings, but skyscrapers, blocks and dense complexes overruled what once a sprawling metropolis into tens of millions of people living however best they could.

It just felt punkish, rogue, more cyber than solar. Dirtier, with higher highs, and much lower lows. Poverty might have been eliminated, but it still felt like someone hadn't checked on the divide here. And fans of any sport, football, pelota, padel, rugby, yet especially now, Formula AG, were wild for it.

Wild was an understatement. Religious, maybe.

Argentina, the mocking joke of economics was still not exactly the wealthiest place on earth, but rare earths, minerals companies and new models of doing business that weren't Peronism or insane shock capitalism had actually managed to turn the script about. As climate change ravaged the equatorial regions, Argentina took on refugees, and they brought stories, ideas and another layer to what was already the rich tapestry of Argentine history. Buenos Aires, as such, didn't feel safe, but in it, felt like you could find every single microcosm of South America in a tapestry that no pilot would probably dare venture into. Too much of a security risk after all, unless someone was unhinged enough to go beyond the security perimeter and into a city fanzone, rather than the circuit's massive one.

So back at the circuit, they were all getting ready, and practice would be on the cards soon. Final checks, tweaks, and a feel for thing.

In the Valkyrie pit, Dorian had started tweaking away, the MAG-tracking making most ELS deployment areas absolutely wild. A physically taxing race, he checked through his vitals and circulation data, before nodding, helmet on, and getting ready to clamber in and run a lap. The feeling was one of tension, because Dorian knew while this was his final year, there was still something to deliver. Get over the line, and find a result, right in the heart of Carrera's homeland.

And in the Carrera pit, Ava grit her teeth when she looked across at Bea chatting with Alistair, before returning to her own setup with Rey. They weren't talking. But they had to put on a brave face. Leon hadn't denied the two were getting more and more racy, and her loving fans were absolutely lapping it up. So she had to make a point. Prove why she was in that second seat. And wipe that smile from that Spanish fuck's face and remind him, and anyone else on the grid why she was where she was.

Dispatch: Welcome to SDN!

@RisingRobin

I think that was the impression I got! The feeling is of a modern-day equivalent world, but weirdly, SDN use 1980s era gear, but also, tablets. Sort of a weird retrofuturism going on but I like it, gives the world a feeling that it's 10 years in the future yet 40 years back :D generally it feels open ended, so I didn't want to give my two char too much in what they were up to on their end in the UK.

Tactical Breach Wizards: Fireteam Hex (Military, Modern, Fantasy, Action-Thriller)

Day 2: 00:31:21
Grestin Monastery,
Somewhere overlooking the the village of Pristupin,
Libor Province,
Republic of Polavia

Oksana scowled when Borys covered the muzzle, all circumstances that she blew his hand off vanishing with the thought that she should be more responsible. His sick stank a little, but, could be worse. Realising the mindfuck was likely new to him, so probably going easy on it was best. He was drunk, but he wasn't entirely a moron.

But on Prigo, he was right. The man deserved to die falling through a rural toilet into a cesspit, she thought to herself.

Lovely.

The situation had changed, as Oksana, the team, and the tension built.

Then Borys stood up and drunkenly started slurring and running.
"Nice one." Oksana saw clearly when he couldn't, the chaos of Borys blending perfectly with the precision of being able to see exactly where to put her bullets, and on that note, execute.

Meanwhile, Felix glanced to Silas, hearing his mumble, addressing it anyway.
"Eh. I've been chewed out worse." He crackled the smallest of jokes that fit inbetween the chaos that was about to erupt, looking to Rowan, and proceeded to watch Rowan go absolutely fucking mad.

The PSA militants yelled out, trying to turn on her but already, Roxie had sniped the one that was left of the group she hadn't straight up merked, Felix clattering the group further down the hill, deciding against the 870 for now. Rowan was going wild, understandably so, like weeks of rage were just pouring out.
"Silas, keep her covered, I'll pin their side! No fucking chance I'm eating them alive after Babushka's food!" Felix called out, moving along the wall, bullets lashing out as an LMG erupted, the RPK staring to pick apart their position.

Felix moved fast, slotting two men with clean headshots as Roxie clapped two from her end, his rifle spitting out big caliber rounds into skull after skull. The bullets rang out as Felix kept in cover, bullets sending bricks and masonry dust everywhere.

"Right, I've got one last trick up my sleeve. Don't follow my Copy Cat!" Felix called out in comms, looking to the other group, Roxie wondering what exactly that meant.

With it, it looked like Felix seemed to leap the wall, and run straight towards enemy fire, past Rowan, the illusion shattering as bullets flew, Felix using the muzzle flash in the dark to clatter one of the men, Okasna picking up the others.

The gunfire died down a bit, as one more hostile was clattered by the last round in Roxie's mag, a smooth effort that blew his brains across a tree.

"Everyone breathing?" Felix asked, looking around as he dumped the mag into his vest and slid a new one in, patting himself down, looking to Borys, stumbling.

"Silas, you might want to hit Borys. He's resistant to bullets, but not to...." Felix began, as Oksana called out another fireteam of reinforcements coming through and bullets forced them to scatter.

"More on the other side of the rocks!" Gunfire rang out as Felix dragged Rowan by her vest into cover behind a particularly large tree, Oksana switching to her Vityaz as one of the men actually stood on her, the round going through his groin and out of his head as she lept up and shoved him away, the moss-like bush trying to avoid getting crossfired upon. Felix took out one of the men at Oksana's flank, covering Borys who would have been very exposed. And now in need of more impact from Silas. He was taking bullets, plenty more accurate than he would have expected.

The effort to repel the fireteam was good, but it wasn't enough to stop one of the SA soldiers taking a flare gun, and pointing it at the sky, after a radio callout. In a pain that felt hopeless to stop, Oksana just couldn't have got their in time to shoot it out of his hand. The flare got launched, but instead of going into the sky and illuminating the dark forest like a Christmas decoration.....it got caught in the branches of a relatively tall pine tree, and immediately, caught light.

Polavian flares really did burn well, huh.

And now it wasn't so much an alert, but a forest fire.

Oksana had already seen it happen, the angle, the point of it was never going to clear, but in the gunfire, namely, the last round she sent through the skull of one of the militant who fired the flare from her 9mm SMG, this was not exactly it. The flaming treetop did enough to bring a hurl of gunfire in from the village, the flare and the radio call out enough to identify Rowan as there, and not in the village itself.

And within a short period of time, they had gone from a firefight, to a.....fire-fight?

"Bastard! Okay, we definitely can't hang around. Rowan, you probably saved that entire village, but fuck me, we really need to talk when we're done with this! We need to head north east, head for the rail line, and fucking hope we can get some distance in! Everyone, move, move, move!" Felix exasperated, new magazine in, Borys smacked into a mixture of sobriety and health (and maybe another bottle), and Oksana having reloaded all her kit, picking up pace past the defilade and on the other side of what was now a rapidly growing fire in the pines, and gunfire flying towards them.

The team were breaking into a run- because fighting back seemed like a shitty idea with just how much attention they were getting. The DSR team had broken off given the gunfire noise seemed to stop sounding like DSR-grade rounds. More gunfire slapped into the trees, as it turns out, that flare that set one tree on fire had decided to now set multiple. It was interference. A nice ability to put trees and fire between them, but also, light that cast onto them.

"More of them coming in from our three o'clock!" Oksana called out, seeing a pair of mercs forming up, moving on a ridgeline, the two that moved in getting clattered by Felix, as he knelt and put rounds into them, before breaking back into a combat run.

"Clear! Keep fucking moving!" Felix barked back, as the sound of a heavy machine gun could be heard clattering into trees. They were idiots, but putting on fear. The team were now running and gunning. Through the moss that had previously given them shelter, between the large pine trees that now decided to burn behind them, slow but inconvenient in every way.

"Can't you lion out and get fed?" Oksana barbed, the sound of vehicles and lights breaking in the sides, giving them a tunnel to break through.

"Your babushka fed us full, no chance! I can barely run as is!" Felix called, clambering up and over a ditch, trying to think that move but nothing happening. He wasn't going lion now, but his hearing was at least astute enough, as he passed a hand to Rowan, who stayed with him, pulling her through, Oksana leaping across before looking back to Rowan and offering a hand, then seeing Borys, of whom had taken shorter steps. Realising she probably shouldn't have gone this far ahead without checking on him.

"Ah." Oksana realised, as more bullets flew, and Felix ran back, stopping him from running and using his height to clear it easily back again. And like nothing, simply throwing him across the waterlogged ditch, like the dwarf that he was, into Oksana.

It was clumsy, but they all picked up the gauntlet and ran.

The team were in varying states of sprint, the cracks of gunfire making the wood feel like a version of hell, rather than a safe retreat. SA were not giving up. They were going to burn this place, and them to the ground if they got even a body of Rowan to revive.

More gunfire was pouring in as they started to approach the far end of the wood, towards a small clearing before the woods continued again down to the trainyard lit up in the distance.
"Hostiles front, boss, we can't go around!" Oksana called into comms, as the squad ahead called it in, the 12.7mm rounds blasting from their DShK armed UAZ into the trees all over, and Felix inclined to agree that indeed, they were pinned. They had to confront a squad at least, and an idea formed in his mind.

"Borys, Keodis, put down some suppressing fire, Silas, Rowan, get on the flank, see if you can. We might want to scavenge that vehicle if we're getting a train!"

"Fuck me, my vision is all spent! You need to stop the big gun shooting, it's like a fucking rave!" Oksana was honest, her voice in full pant.

"Alright, we'll drag his attention, get ready!" And with it, the team had some objectives, the slight slope down towards the rail-line in the distance. Oksana cursed, moving from tree to tree before diving down, exhaling hard, her accuracy all over the place from sprinting, calming herself down.

You can do this, she told herself.

Felix didn't have the same thoughts, taking direct fire in the rocks he was pinned behind, spraying bullets blind over, down to much fewer mags than he would like. He leaned out from the side, aiming down the holographic, the lion inside still not wanting to come out of its hide. So 7.62mm it was for now, as he picked off one of the squad, with a scatter of rounds to the torso, before clambering back in cover, the .50 aimed at him for now, giving Borys a chance to spray out any of the other hostiles around the UAZ and catch their attention, while Silas and Rowan could get in closer, and use their shotguns to make a royal mess. Oksana would cap off the move, and once she had her breath, and her sense of seering back, she could wipe the gunner out. The ratios were still poor, but one way or another, they'd make this work.