The Create-A-Hero RPG Season III IC Thread!

[NiteMare Shape]

Heads will roll!

"Ok, I've got to give it to you Alex, now I'm even more lost. And it's not easy to get one by me."

"I really don't care what you think might be going on. But it's not. And because it's not, you're going to stop keeping tabs on my people."

Anderson doesn't even attempt to stifle his laughter.

"And who's going to make me stop D, you?"

 

[wiegeabo]

Anderson doesn't even attempt to stifle his laughter.

"And who's going to make me stop D, you?"

The Director's smile drops instantly.

"Tough talk, Alex. Perhaps you forgot about Venezuela?"

 

[NiteMare Shape]

The Director's smile drops instantly.

"Tough talk, Alex. Perhaps you forgot about Venezuela?"

"I've never forgotten Venezuela, D. In fact, I remember it almost as well as I remember Cambodia."

Anderson's tone takes a more menacing note.

"The fact of the matter D, is that things have gotten out of hand. You don't even realize how far in over your head you are. The freaks have been coming out of the woodwork causing more problems than anyone could have ever imagined. And it's only just the beginning."

He pauses.

"The invasion was a horrible thing, but it did serve a purpose...it proved to some very important people that these so called metahumans can't be allowed to run around freely...and because of that realization, I've been given certain...liberties to do what needs to be done."

He waits until he is certain that D grasped what it is that he's saying.

"Now I'm perfectly happy to allow you to keep doing whatever it is that you're doing down there in your little "Agency," but do be on your best behavior...I'd hate to be forced to have your assets liquidated."

 

[wiegeabo]

"I've never forgotten Venezuela, D. In fact, I remember it almost as well as I remember Cambodia."

Anderson's tone takes a more menacing note.

"The fact of the matter D, is that things have gotten out of hand. You don't even realize how far in over your head you are. The freaks have been coming out of the woodwork causing more problems than anyone could have ever imagined. And it's only just the beginning."

He pauses.

"The invasion was a horrible thing, but it did serve a purpose...it proved to some very important people that these so called metahumans can't be allowed to run around freely...and because of that realization, I've been given certain...liberties to do what needs to be done."

He waits until he is certain that D grasped what it is that he's saying.

"Now I'm perfectly happy to allow you to keep doing whatever it is that you're doing down there in your little "Agency," but watch do be on your best behavior...I'd hate to be forced to have your assets liquidated."

The Director leans forward, speaking slowly into the phone.

"If you know anything about me, Alex, it's that I don't respond well to threats. Vague, overt, nonsensical, or otherwise. I tend to get angry. You wouldn't like me when I'm angry."

He leans back in his chair, his voice softening a bit.

"You've got a burr up your ass about metahumans, I get that. But I think that burr might have migrated to your brain. I don't know what you think is going on here, but my personnel, my whole department, is metahuman free and off limits. If you keep spying on my men...well, you're not the only one with certain elected officials on his speed-dial. And if anything happens to any of my men, liquidation will be the least of your worries. I trust we understand each other?"

 

[NiteMare Shape]

The Director leans forward, speaking slowly into the phone.

"If you know anything about me, Alex, it's that I don't respond well to threats. Vague, overt, nonsensical, or otherwise. I tend to get angry. You wouldn't like me when I'm angry."

He leans back in his chair, his voice softening a bit.

"You've got a burr up your ass about metahumans, I get that. But I think that burr might have migrated to your brain. I don't know what you think is going on here, but my personnel, my whole department, is metahuman free and off limits. If you keep spying on my men...well, you're not the only one with certain elected officials on his speed-dial. And if anything happens to any of my men, liquidation will be the least of your worries. I trust we understand each other?"

Anderson just leans back in his chair, a smug grin forming on his lip.

"Really D, don't you think that our time could be better spent than making threats over the phone? Especially when we both know that only one of us is capable of making good on them? If you have a problem with the way that I do things, take it up with your 'elected officials.' But we both know that I don't answer to any of them."

He pauses for a moment.

"Let me make one thing perfectly clear, D. Senators come and go. Congressmen come and go. Hell, presidents come and go...but the one thing that is always constant is me."

He waits to be sure that his words have their intended effect before continuing.

"Can you say the same?"

 

[wiegeabo]

Anderson just leans back in his chair, a smug grin forming on his lip.

"Really D, don't you think that our time could be better spent than making threats over the phone? Especially when we both know that only one of us is capable of making good on them? If you have a problem with the way that I do things, take it up with your 'elected officials.' But we both know that I don't answer to any of them."

He pauses for a moment.

"Let me make one thing perfectly clear, D. Senators come and go. Congressmen come and go. Hell, presidents come and go...but the one thing that is always constant is me."

He waits to be sure that his words have their intended effect before continuing.

"Can you say the same?"

"I'm still here, Alex. And the way you step over jurisdictions, I don't know if you'll be able to say the same for long."

"But you are right. I've got much better things to do than waste any more time on you. Stay out of my people's way, and we won't have any more problems."

The Director slams down the phone. He stews for about a second.

"ALBERTS!!!"

Alberts pokes his head in the door. "Sir?"

"I want you to pull all the personnel files."

"A-All of them, sir?"

"Did I speak a foreign language?"

"No, sir."

"And get Cole and Hawkes in here."

"Um, I believe Cole is checking in with The Doctor at the moment, sir."

"Well, as soon as he's through."

"Yes, sir."

"...NOW, Alberts!"

"Oh, yes sir!"

Alberts closes quickly slams the door and The Director rolls his eyes, wondering why he hasn't retired yet.

 

[Hound55]

Guardians Headquarters

Isaac roamed the halls of Guardians Headquarters, he’d been there a lot more in the past few days mainly waiting for the transfer of the police report, complete with coroner’s findings for a specific homicide case he’d been keeping a close eye on but this was not the only reason. The GHQ had been a lot quieter recently with a member who split time between his own apartment and the GHQ having left the group. He felt the need to breathe fresh life into the place and have an actual team member in the building a bit more. Sure, there were employees in the building, but they didn’t have the same presence.

Isaac made a right turn and cut into the Armoury, a place he’d visited a few times of late, and greeted the familiar man at the counter.

[BLACKOUT]“Hey Gunny, what’s new?”[/BLACKOUT]

“Not much, kid.”

Colonel Lewis “Gunny” Bracken was an ex-Marine in his mid-fifties, he’d been in the Corps for more of his life than he hadn’t but had come up against a wall there. Men as blunt as “Gunny” was do not climb above that rank, and normally they don’t even reach Colonel, but had a service record that could not be ignored by the powers that be he climbed to such a prestigious rank. In each other they recognised the kindred spirit of “the warrior” and had hit it off quite well. Gunny didn’t seem like the other military officers who would ghost in and out of the monitors telling the Guardians what to do and what would be. Something told Isaac that this man was another breed entirely.

[BLACKOUT]“Acquisition sheet, Gunny. I’ve had a bit of an epiphany.”[/BLACKOUT]

“Yeah? So you’re finally going to carry a piece.”

[BLACKOUT]“Heh. Nah, that’s not I was thinking. Nightsticks. Police issue. You reckon you could scrounge me up a pair?”[/BLACKOUT]

“Nightsticks?”

[BLACKOUT]“Yeah. I’m still making do with the Jimmies, and I had a think about it and pretty much anything I could do with the Jimmies I could do with a nightstick, and then some. They’re more versatile.”[/BLACKOUT]

Gunny raised a knowing eyebrow.

[BLACKOUT]“OK. I broke my arm several places a week back and started thinking about upgrading to a weapon with defensive capabilities as well…”[/BLACKOUT]

“Ha Ha. And you’re keeping that from ME? Son, if I were going out there doing what you’re doing I’d be packing more firepower than the S.W.A.T. guys do. Ain’t no reason to be worried about me saying you’ve lost your balls. To be honest with ya, I think y’ve got more balls than sense.”

“Give us a look at that pop-gun you’re carrying there as well, while you’re here…”

Isaac looked down at his grapple-gun, pulled it out, turned it and gave it to Gunny handle first.

Gunny held it and brought it up to head level with an eye looking over the barrel, then rested the barrel on his wrist and again looked down the sight.

“Hmm… Int'restin' piece. You know it’s off balance though, right?”

[BLACKOUT]“Well yeah… I made it myself. It’s gotta be a bit dodgy or it wouldn’t be a handmade gun.”[/BLACKOUT] Isaac chuckled.

“Maybe you should stop by and get a look at some of the ones I’ve made…” Gunny responded with the cheeky grin of a man who loves his work.

[BLACKOUT]“Invited of course, Gunny… I get enough holes in me through the daily grind in this business…”[/BLACKOUT]

“Ha ha ha. You know me too well. I pity the man who tries to break into Casa D’ Bracken…”

“You know, I could shift the weight on this piece a li'l, make it a fire a tad more true. Easier to operate.”

[BLACKOUT]“Gunny, unless you can put an infra-red scope on that thing you couldn’t get me to fire true…”[/BLACKOUT]

“Nah, no point puttin' a scope on it. You fire, what, a 1.5 lb hook from this thing, plus cable..? Gravity would mean the scope wouldn’ be accurate pas' 10 ft… mebbe 15 tops.”

[BLACKOUT]“Gunny, I was making a joke.”[/BLACKOUT]

“I never joke when it comes to business, kid.”

[BLACKOUT]“So weight’s the issue there… what about the bolts, just out of interest? You mean I could put a scope on it to help me peel off those ¼ oz bolts?”[/BLACKOUT]

“Well, that depends… Gimme a look at what you’re firing there.”

Isaac dug into his pockets and pulled out 6 bolts, three concussion and three “shredders”.

“Hmm… I was gonna ask if you wanted to peel off a few rounds of the Desert Eagle I brought in here, but you’re still not going to carry a piece no matter how hard I sell it will you..?”

Isaac smiled and shook his head.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought. I’ve got a big ol’ cube of ballistics gel all cued up for you to fire off a couple rounds, but since that’s a no-go we may as well test out your pop-gun here. You cool with that?”

[BLACKOUT]“Sure, would have loved to check it out myself…”[/BLACKOUT]

“OK, come 'round the stall and we’ll check this thing out.”

Isaac went around the counter and the pair went through a door behind the counter to the gallery.

“Now let’s try one of these little button ones you’ve got here first.”

Gunny dropped a bolt into the gun and lined up the gel down the end of the firing range.

Pfft! Poc!

The concussion bolt pinged off of the gel and rolled around on the floor somewhere.

[BLACKOUT]“Where the hell did that go?”[/BLACKOUT]

“It pinged off the gel and rolled off on the floor somewhere… You really shoot these dern things?”

[BLACKOUT]“Well yeah… You just used a concussion bolt. Non-lethal force.”[/BLACKOUT]

“And what pray-tell do you propose to do with your little B.B. pellets when faced with some pissed off crook who doesn’t particularly like being shot in the ass by the Haven’s version of a potato gun. It’s not paintball out there, boy.”

[BLACKOUT]“I’m well aware of what it’s like out there… I’m out there. Close quarters this thing takes ‘em down nice enough, without crippling them too.”[/BLACKOUT]

“Alright, alright… Let me get a look at one of these other little screw-ey ones you’ve got here then…”

Gunny drops a “Shredder” into the gun and lines it up a second time.

Pfft! Fthk!

The shredder made a nasty squelching sound as it pierced the gel.

The older Gunny jumped the stall and approached the gel. He pulled a tape measure from his pocket and lined it up with the gel by sight.

“Huh… that ain’t too bad. It’s no Desert Eagle, but that ain’t too bad. Not considering what it is. You say you made this thing y’self?”

“Yeah, I’ve made a couple variants of it too over the years, trying to get it right.”

“Oh… looking at this thing I thought it was a rough draft y’had here.”

“I’ll tell you what, I’ll see if I can mod you a scope or sight for that thing. Anything I try to pick up through the usual channels is just going to mess with the weight and make it even more of a pain in the ass than it already is.”

[BLACKOUT]“Yeah? Thanks Gunny.”[/BLACKOUT]

[BLACKOUT]“Oh… and could you do me a favour..?”[/BLACKOUT]

“Sure kid, whaddaya want?”

[BLACKOUT]“When you pick up those nightsticks I was asking about before… Could you actually go out and pick ‘em up yourself, rather than through the usual Acq channels…”[/BLACKOUT]

“Yeah kid, I guess I could do that. Why do you want me to go that route?”

[BLACKOUT]“Ehh… I have my reasons. You should still be able to claim and all of that afterwards, right? It won’t be out of your pocket?”[/BLACKOUT]

“Nah, I’ll hang on to the receipt, should be enough for the 'worms runnin' the numbers.”

[BLACKOUT]“Thanks man, anyway, I’ve got some other stuff around the traps I’ve got to check up on. See you ‘round Gunny.”[/BLACKOUT]

And with that Isaac bolted out of the room and down a corridor.

“Yeah, see ya kid!” Gunny yelled out to the departing black figure.

“…Whatever you’re up to… good luck kid…”

 

[Hound55]

Guardians Headquarters

Isaac walked down a hall of Guardians HQ deep in thought with his nose in the manila folder the police delivered “c/o The Vigilante”. It was still a new experience to him; having the police just send him the data he was looking for, rather than having to take the information he needed through stealth.

He found a loose leaf sheet sitting in there which had been added purely for his benefit.

“Nothing much new to you in here. Looks like you know your stuff. If you find anything else that stands out to you, let us know. Hammond.”

“He’s referring to the coroner’s report.” Thought Isaac. “But there’s more in this than just the coroner’s report…”

He flicked through the pages quickly, most of which was Investigation diary info; the case being transferred from being the patrol’s responsibility to the other local area, then to homicide, then to a different homicide officer, then a note that they would be liaising with a Guardians representative… Just standard paperwork, nothing particularly interesting or relevant for him. Flicking through the dispatch messages keeping a running commentary on proceedings. He finally got to the only paperwork he was really interested in… something he could sink his teeth into; the victim records.

“Hmm…”

Apparently the victim was a Thomas Lawton, a middle aged man with no criminal convictions, some minor traffic history but nothing that was out of the normal. There were some run-of-the-mill supplementary reports for some disturbances but nothing over the top. Other than that the traffic offences and the supp reports there was a victim incident where he’d reported his car stolen in the last month. Probably nothing, but Isaac still couldn’t ignore it as a potential lead. Particularly with little else of note in the man’s file. Some Supps from neighbours complaints and a few DUIs were nothing out of the ordinary.

Isaac cringed as he realised how little he had to go on. You can’t form a pattern and spot trends from ONE instance, but he hated the thought that he’d likely have to wait until this man struck again.

Isaac put the paperwork back in the folder and walked to the garage with it under his arm. Making a note on his mental “To Do” list, to look further into the auto theft.

But for now he had other plans…

 

[Mr. Majestic]

Once in Washington I break out of super speed only to be surrounded by tragedy. There are barley builds standing, it’s so bad I don’t even think it can me classified as building. The ground is completely covered in debris and dead bodies. Looking at all this I can’t keep but to think about back then. That time when the world was being attacked. That time when I lost my mother. With all this misfortune that has taken place here I can’t help but to think about that terrible time. I made a promise to mother and myself that I would never let anything like this happen again.

At that moment many different emotions begin to run through me, sadness, failure, anger, and most importantly revenge.

By the looks of things it doesn’t seem to be any survivors but I shouldn’t jump to conclusions just yet.

I then press a button on the watch that is strapped to my left wrist. I press the button a high frequency sound comes from the watch. Now the sound is so high that only those with great hearing will be able to take notice of the reverberation. With the sound bouncing off the nearby area I widen the range as I have yet to find anybody alive. As the field is widening I have yet to see or hear anyone. Even though I don’t want to think the worse I believe I may have to.

With the watches sound range about to reach its capacity I think it may be safe to say that there are no survivor.

“Did you get it.”

It was a voice, its low but it’s a voice, with means that there is someone out there. I got to focus to hear it.

I then turn watch off and concentrate on using my super hearing.

“Just like you said everyone left town, the city is ours.” Another voice spoke.

Whoever it is they may be reasonable for what happened or at least know who is. I can’t waste anymore time.

I got to there location within a flash. Who ever they are, for the time being they seem to be hanging about in an old warehouse. Normally when I don’t know what or who I’m going against I’d take caution but today is not a normal day. I grab the door and rip it off with little to no effort and toss it a couple of feet behind me. After doing so I seem to grab the attention of the three men inside at the opposite end.

“We are thinking of remodeling anyways.” One of the guys say to me as I begin to approach them.

“I’m not in a mood for games.”

Normally in a situation after tearing off a door and someone makes a smirk comment I would make a joking one in return but after seeing what happened I just don’t feel like being funny.

“I’m only going to ask this one time and I want a straight answer. Are you the ones responsible for what happened?”

Out of the three the one who was in the middle stood up from his seat and walks a couple of steps toward me.

“What if we are? What are you going to do BOY!”

He put a great deal of emphasis on the word Boy. Safe to say he may knows who I am, most call me the Kid or he probably just looking down on me. Doesn't matter thought he wants to play games.

Within a blink of an eye I appear in front of the gentleman in the middle with my hand around his throat.

“Maybe I didn’t make myself clear.”

Just with a little jolt I throw him through the other end of the warehouse. Under ordinary circumstances I wouldn’t be so rash because I wouldn’t want anyone to get seriously injured. But for some reason my rage seems to be overwhelming me and I don’t want it to stop. If they did this they will pay, with their lives.

“Now maybe I didn’t make my self clear. When I said I wanted a straight answer that means yes or no.”

I turn my attention to the guy to the right waiting for a reply. He looks me in the eyes and then for a moment he places his gaze pass me. Instantly I feel the temperature in the room increasing. Even though I couldn’t see what the guy to my left was doing I felt as if I could feel him. Out of no where I raise my right hand up and as I do a blast of fire stops in the palm of my hand. I close my hand and render his sneak attack useless.

“Did you think it was going to be that easy?” I ask as my interest is now brought to the one who tried to attack me when I wasn’t looking.

My eye’s then began to glow blue as I start to power up a great amount of electrical energy.

“What a lot of people don’t know is one of my powers is electric manipulation. I never used it on a meta or any person for that reason. I could never find that certain level of control.”

While taking small steps of panic backward the pyrokinesis metahuman then reply by saying. “Why are you about to use them now?”

“It’s simple, I just don’t care.” I tell him as I release most of the electrical energy aiming for his head. Thanks to my amount of control I just miss the meta by a hair.

“You should be thankful but sad to say next time I won’t miss.”

Before he could do anything I grab him and lift him in the air with one hand and begin to charge for another attack.

“Let’s see how I do at close range.”

I can tell he is scared and he should be.

As I get ready to shot another his partner then decides to come to his friends aid.

“Look man it wasn’t us okay it was something else. Once the thing was done we just came to the other parts of the cities that wasn’t touched and took money from the banks and stuff like that. I told you what you wanted to know so your going to let us go right?”

He can’t be serious, I’m having to much fun.

“So you and your friends just stood by and did nothing while these people were getting killed and you think I’m going to let you go?” I toss his fire friend to the side, hard.

“Give me a moment.”

Moment taken.

“There were over a thousand of bodies within all that debris. And since you didn’t help them I’m going to make sure you are going to feel their pain.”

As he begin to walk back he trips and falls down but he waste no motion as he begin to crawl backward

“What are you going to do to me?”

“Just killing you would be to easy, I have something else in mind. I’ve learned some things about myself over the recent mouths. One of the things are my control of my strength. I know how to control the pounds of pressure I can infect on a person. I’m going to start at one and make my way to the total of dead bodies that now lay lifeless because you and your friends did NOTHING! I’m going to make you wish that you did try something and died in the process.”

 

[Hound55]

Isaac drove a generic looking blue Nissan, cutting a path through mild traffic to the shopping district of downtown New Haven. He’d made the changeover from the black ‘Vette to this dumpy little box in a parking garage where he had a permanent car park paid for under a pseudonym. He’d been putting a lot of thought into this issue on the sly recently and he’d come to the conclusion that he’d done the best he could with the information at his disposal.

He needed to find out more about this S.T.R.I.K.E and he couldn’t afford the suspicion that came with being the Vigilante while he tried to find it.

He’d have to go shopping.

Isaac swept through his store of choice, made his purchase swiftly with cash and left with a small bag which was frankly, unnecessary.

He carried his package away to a darkened alley where he finally removed his new iPhone, which was oddly enough the old iPhone, from the packaging with a pair of his latex gloves.

Phase 1 complete.

The well dressed young Fontaine took the escalator to the food court which was packed as planned. This was going to put a lot of people out, but damn it, he couldn’t think of a safer way. Isaac took the most crowded route possible, navigating with a “’scuse me” through the tables, keeping his eye out for the popular brand. With furtive sleight of hand he swapped phones almost a dozen times before coming out of the other end of the food court with a completely different iPhone, saying a silent prayer for Steve Jobbs and the global hype phenomenon that saw so many people want the exact same device. Trying to keep the smile from his face he left the shopping centre and proceeded to do the same thing again.

After the third shop’s food court he felt comfortable enough with the amount of changeovers that anyone attempting to pin his actions on someone, couldn’t possibly justify detaining between 30 and 40 randomly selected people for one man’s actions… they want to chase him, fine. But they won’t be catching him this time.

Phase 2 complete.

Isaac found a quiet dark spot in the parking garage, opened up the web browser and began running searches on some of the terms he’d considered earlier. He paused momentarily, tilting his head as if he just remembered something, and hit buttons on his watch before going back to digging for data on S.T.R.I.K.E.

“SIR! We’ve got a miner! Clumsy one too! He’s just pulled 7 of our tripwires… 8! He’s rampaging all over the net for S.T.R.I.K.E…” exclaimed a security monitor in S.T.R.I.K.E headquarters.

“What?! Alright. You know the drill, pull the ISP.” the man's boss, Michaels, barked.

“We’re trying, sir… There. He’s just on a… a phone… Downtown Lost Haven”

“He’s on a phone? No tech to disrupt us? Cocky bastard… And he’s in the Haven as well? Well he picked the wrong damn city to trifle with us in. Drop the hammer on this one. Triangulate the signal. I want two tactical units to take this guy down. I want it done clean. You! Inform Anderson. He’ll want to see how we deal with this kind of thing.”

Michaels was a driven man, he wanted to rise fast within S.T.R.I.K.E and it was rare that anyone had as good an opportunity to impress Director Anderson, and he planned to make the most of it. Two units may be seen almost as overkill to some, but above all else Michaels couldn’t afford to fail him and he hoped the swift tactical strike of force might make an impact on him.

Back in the shadows Fontaine’s eyes scanned the iPhone’s small glowing screen as he made mental notes of as many points of interest as he could, pausing only while the iPhone would load a new screen to check his wrist.

“Enough.” Isaac thought.

He turned and hurled the iPhone off of the parking garage into the wall of a nearby building, where the device shattered and fell before being caught in the guttering of a lower building.

Isaac kept to the shadows away from the cameras in the garage, slipped out the stairwell exit and went two levels down and got in the lift to the ground floor. He went back to the street level, where he entered a shop overlooking the destroyed remnants of the iPhone, pretending to peruse through the merchandise whilst really keeping an eye on the street. Almost immediately he saw what he was waiting for, he tapped his wrist as the men in flak jackets moved in. Isaac saw enough and after a quick purchase, left the store. Time to cover tracks, this time he would need the help of his black garbed pseudonym. After a brief stop to get changed a black figure appeared in the security section of one of the local malls.

[BLACKOUT]“I’m going to need to requisition your CCTV tapes. I’m tracking a dangerous defence threat, he attempted to breach Guardians security.”[/BLACKOUT]

The mall cop, a portly man, hadn’t seen this kind of excitement in some time and fumbled quickly for the recorders.

“Any particular camera?”

[BLACKOUT]“I’m going to need all of the footage of the cameras covering the food court.”[/BLACKOUT]

“OK... Just give me one second. It runs on a cycle, there’s 12 cameras and they switch automatically between shots every 8 seconds unless the guy on monitor duty wants to keep a closer eye on something, so it’s all on the one tape.” As the eager-to-please mall cop pawed repeatedly at the eject button on a recorder.

“You know you can view them here, right?”

[BLACKOUT]“This is National security, sir. I’m not going to be searching sensitive information on your own monitors. You do understand, right?”[/BLACKOUT]

“Oh. Absolutely. Perfectly understandable.” Trying to hide his disappointment in not getting to see the Guardian operate.

[BLACKOUT]“We should have this back fairly soon though, we’ve video equipment en scene.”[/BLACKOUT]

“Take as long as you need!” The mall cop yelled as Isaac swept out the door.

Two stops later he had all documented evidence connecting himself to the scene and he returned to the scene of the first security room.

[BLACKOUT]“You! The tape was blank! He got to here first! I want answers and I want them now!”[/BLACKOUT]

“But… but that’s impossible…”

[BLACKOUT]“Apparently it’s not impossible because it’s f***ing happened!”[/BLACKOUT] Isaac berated the poor mall cop.

[BLACKOUT]“I want the name of everyone who’s come through here today in the last 5 hours!”[/BLACKOUT]

“But it’s just been us in here…” gesturing to his co-workers.

[BLACKOUT]“Everyone. I don’t care if it’s someone you see every damn day. Hell, PARTICULARLY someone you see every damn day. This could be a shifter, a ghost any damn thing…”[/BLACKOUT]

“A shifter..?”

Isaac pulled up and gave an expression like he just realised he said something he shouldn’t have.

[BLACKOUT]“We’ve got a person looking into secret Government activities, we can’t rule out the possibility that he may be able to take on other forms… whether by disguise or… special genetic talent…”[/BLACKOUT]

Isaac fought to keep from breaking into a smile as he fed disinformation to the go-between who would undoubtedly be one of the earliest avenues anyone chasing his trail would go to. The mall cop looked frazzled, not comprehending what was happening and overwhelmed by the prospect of such people existing.

The Vigilante left soon after with a piece of paper with a list of scrawled names, smudged noticeably by the sweat of the flustered mall cop. Swapping the useless list for one of the three blank tapes he’d bought earlier.

Two performances later and the job was done. The blue Nissan was once again on the road, its driver in heavy contemplation trying to process what he’d learned from the iPhone. He checked his wrist once more, with the response time still displayed on his watch’s “stopwatch” feature.

[BLACKOUT]
“Fast, organised, tight… And all too interested in us. This is not good.”
[/BLACKOUT]

 

[wiegeabo]

Then

"So, why am I here again?"

The Fatman leans back in his chair. "As long as you have that gland in your head, you're going to be working for me, Mr. Cole."

"Is that right. Who are you? I've been wondering that from the start? CIA?"

The Director smiles. "No, not exactly."

"NSA?"

He points up to the seal on the wall behind him.

"Department of..." I roll my eyes, not believing what I'm seeing. "Department of Fish & Game?!"

"The Department of Fish & Game is a very important branch of the government tasked with preserving our natural resources."

"Fish & Game paid for the gland in my head."

"No, they're just our landlords. CIA had a deficit last year. Fish & Game had a surplus. We go where the money is."

"Unbelievable." I lean back in my own chair and cross my legs nonchalantly. "So, if I decide not to work for...Fish & Game...what's to stop me from, oh, I don't know, going invisible, running off, and finding a doctor to take the damn thing out?"

"The fact that, if the gland is removed, you'll die."

I lean forward. "Say that again."

"We...don't know how to safely remove the gland."

"...say that again."

"Cole-"

"No! You say that again. Because there's no way my brother would have put this thing in my head if he couldn't get it out again."

"He did."

I blow air out between my lips. "Whew. Ok. So...you just haven't figured out his notes yet, or something? Maybe I can help...?"

"He had notes, but they were destroyed in the attack. You're brother made sure that whoever was trying to steal the Project wouldn't get the data."

"What about backups?"

"To risky. This was a beyond top secret project, after all."

"So what does that mean?"

"The only one who knew how to remove the gland was your brother."

"And he's dead."

"Exactly."

I nod as my eyes drift off. Then I pick up the chair and fling it through the air, smashing it against the wall.

"GODDAMN IT!!!"

"Calm down, Darren."

"SCREW YOU!"

The Director stands up and slams his hands on his desk. "Calm down RIGHT NOW!!!"

We glare at each other until my rage finally passes. The Director sits down and starts glancing over paper work as if nothing happened.

"That chair will come out of your paycheck."

Cheap bastard. "Whatever."

"Go see the Doctor. She wants to give you a checkup. Then come back to see me. I'm going to introduce you to your new partner."

"Fantastic." I stomp out the door and slam it behind me. First chance I get, I'm getting out of here.

***

Now

I really need to get out of here.

"This is so boring." I put down the binoculars and rub my eyes in frustration.

"No one said that government work was supposed to be exciting, buddy boy."

"What about all the movies that say exactly that."

"Just movies, my friend. Hollywood has no idea what makes a good agent, or what intelligence is really like."

"Boring?"

"Hard work. That's what this country was built on. A lot of dedicated, patriotic people doing a lot of hard work. Just like me."

"...Forget to take your lithium today."

"No, why?"

I shake my head. "No reason. Maybe they need to up your dose, is all..."

"What was that?"

"Hmm, what?"

"What?"

"What?"

"...What?"

I shake my head again and look through the binoculars at the building. But a second later, I toss them on the dashboard and rub my eyes.

"Hey, careful with those. They're expensive. Took three months to requisition these from the Fat Man."

"Yeah, sorry. My head's just killing me."

"Headache's are getting worse."

"Yeah."

"Maybe it's a tumor."

"It's not a-! Funny thing to say to a guy with an extra gland in his head."

Hobbes reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out a bottle of aspirin. He tosses it to me, and I grab it gratefully. I toss back a few dry, giving them a quick chew so they'll work faster.

"First mission and you're already falling apart."

"Ha ha. I thought this guy was supposed to be gone by now."

"That's his routine. Leaves his apartment and goes out to eat at 5:15 every night."

"It's five after six."

"Exactly."

I look at him confused. "Exactly what? What does that mean?"

"Means something has changed his routine. Means something is going down."

I suddenly sit up and look out the van's window. "You mean...you mean he's going to meet his buyer now?"

"Sure feels that way. Speak of the devil." The man we're looking for finally walks out of the hotel. As always, he's dressed sharply, wearing sunglasses even though it's getting dark.

"He doesn't look like a terrorist."

"What's a terrorist supposed to look like?"

"I don't know, I've never done business with one."

"Well, they look just like that. Just like everybody else."

"And we're sure this guy is who we want?"

"Oh yeah. We're going to use him to get the big dog. Catch us a high profile terrorist weapons supplier, and put The Agency on the map."

"The secret agency we don't want anyone to know about."

"That's the one."

I laugh, wondering how the hell I got stuck with these people. Oh yeah, a life sentence. Nietzsche said what doesn't kill you makes you stronger. Maybe I should run for governor of California.

"Ok, Cole. Time to do your thing."

"My thing."

"Go see-through, get in his place, and find us the evidence we need."

"No problem." I get out of the car.

"Cole!"

"Yeah?"

"Ten minutes. Then I come up to get you."

"Ten minutes. What could go wrong?"

 

[Blacklight]

Chapter 3...
​

Flying through the skies, frantically scouring this land that could only be described as a desert shrouded in an eternal evening, with random pillars of light shooting into the stars off in the distances, Jon and his team of Blacklights' search for the Great Prism was proving fruitless.

"Maybe we should split up?" Orangelight suggested when he caught on to Blacklight's frustration.

"Oh yeah that's real smart... Split us up so that the bad guys pick us all off one by one." Redlight remarked.

"No one is splitting up. We're going to stick together. I have a feeling we're going to need to if we're going to win..." Blacklight said, trailing off.

"Oh really? Just how do you know this?"

"I don't know... I just... do."

In truth, he really didn't know why, but the Mistress of Light chose him for a reason. She said he would know what to do, and he just felt it deep down that they were going to all have to work together to see this through.

Just then, he felt something. He could sense it. The Prism. It's energies were calling out to him.

"C'mon. It's this way..." Jon called out as he banked left, his alternate selves following suit.

 

[NiteMare Shape]

As Icon makes his way into the small town of Shakerville Washington, he is stunned by the utter destruction stretching out in all directions before him.

The thick smoke and ash that permeates the air stings his eyes, however he continues to look in horror at the wholesale destruction of this town. He begins to focus, using his radar sense in an effort to locate any survivors...

But there are none.

The sight before him is earily similar to the Nautican Island Massacre that Blackwind's deciples perpetrated acouple of years before. The image of all the dead strewn all across what he can only describe as a warzone fills him with a renewed resolve.

He will take down whoever did this, of it's the last thing he does.

Through the dust and debris in the atmosphere, Icon sees something below in the remains of what had once been the small city of Shakerville, something that he is surprised see...flashing police lights.

Finally, through all the destruction Icon sees some signs of life. He immediately makes his way toward the flashing blue lights. As he approaches, he sees a lone police officer standing beside his patrol car.

Icon lands behind the young officer, and for the first time notices that the young woman is leaning heavily on the side of her car, her knees are shaking, hardly able to keep herself from collapsing.

"What happened here?" Icon asks, not entirely sure that she will be able to answer.

"Who did this?"

The young officer turned and looked him right in the eyes.

"He came out of nowhere, it was almost like he fell from the sky. The next thing I know my partner is dead...along with everyone else."

Icon stops dead in his tracks. "He?" He thinks to himself, unable to fathom that one man caused all this destruction.

"He just completely laid waste to the city, killed everything in sight." She continued, almost as if reading his mind. "I don't know how I survived...I tried fighting him with the rest of the force, but when nothing we did even slowed him down...I ran."

For the first time, Icon sees that it not just shock or grief that troubles the young officer, but guilt as well.

"You did the right thing. You wouldn't be doing anybody any good if you died too." Icon puts a hand on her shoulder, trying to reassure her.

"Don't worry, I'll get him. He will pay for what he's done. Do you know which way he went?" He asked, to which the young officer just shooker her head.

He concentrates, allowing his enhanced hearing go to work for him...hoping to find anything that might lead him to the monster who did this. After a few seconds, he does hear something, though not what he is looking for. He hears a disturbance not all too far away.

As I get ready to shot another his partner then decides to come to his friends aid.

“Look man it wasn’t us okay it was something else. Once the thing was done we just came to the other parts of the cities that wasn’t touched and took money from the banks and stuff like that. I told you what you wanted to know so your going to let us go right?”

He can’t be serious, I’m having to much fun.

“So you and your friends just stood by and did nothing while these people were getting killed and you think I’m going to let you go?” I toss his fire friend to the side, hard.

“Give me a moment.”

Moment taken.

“There were over a thousand of bodies within all that debris. And since you didn’t help them I’m going to make sure you are going to feel their pain.”

As he begin to walk back he trips and falls down but he waste no motion as he begin to crawl backward

“What are you going to do to me?”

“Just killing you would be too easy, I have something else in mind. I’ve learned some things about myself over the recent months. One of the things are my control of my strength. I know how to control the pounds of pressure I can infect on a person. I’m going to start at one and make my way to the total of dead bodies that now lay lifeless because you and your friends did NOTHING! I’m going to make you wish that you did try something and died in the process.”

He looks to the young officer, and his heart breaks for her. He imagines that up until this day she had been an optimistic young woman who joined the force for many of the same reasons that he has for doing what he does. Up until today, she had her whole life ahead of her...and in a flash everything is gone. As he looks at her and her patrol car, he almost finds the irony suffocating. The only thing left standing in this small city is a lone police officer and her cruiser...with nothing left to patrol.

Icon leaves the ground, but for an instant he just hovers there several feet above what was once a busy street.

"I have to go. But don't worry, I will get him."

With that, he takes to the skies, leaving the officer standing alone in the wasteland that was once her home.

 

[NiteMare Shape]

Kevin and Erica dine in the cozy dining room of Rizelli's Ristorante, dining on fine Italian cuisine. It is the first time in weeks that they have had the chance to spend a night out on the town together. Kevin has spent most of his nights patrolling the city as Shadow Walker, trying to track down leads that will link Midas to the criminal organization known only as The Cartel, and thus, to his father's murder.

However, his close call with the reptile beast in the city sewers put things in a certain perspective for him. While he was fighting the beast, almost certain that he was going to die alone in the dank sewers, one thought kept running through his mind...that he'd failed.

Not that he'd failed in his mission, that he'd failed to bring The Cartel down and its leader to justice...

But that he'd failed Erica.

He knows that what he does terrifies her. That each night that he dons his Shadow Walker garb, she sits at home fearful that he'll never return. And it was that encounter with the beast that forced the realization that he can't do this forever.

So here they sit, eating a fine meal, discussing what their lives will be like once the mission is complete. What they will do when they return home to Slater City and begin their lives together.

They sit there in Rizelli's, as if they are the only two people in all the world, completely unaware of the man sitting in the far corner of the dining hall, closely watching their every move as he slowly eats his baked ziti.

 

[NiteMare Shape]

Marcus Ryder, the man who other members of STRIKE have taken to calling "Anderson's Heel" due to his tendancy of stepping down upon the enemies of the Director; both Meta and human...and grinding them to dust, reviews the dossier file which contains the briefing for tonight's mission.

Stephen Stone, a small time hood with no real direction in his life. He doesn't pose much of a threat to society as a whole. However his sole ambition in life seems to be to be a nuisance to society, using his telepathic abilities to con people out of their possessions. Nothing as cruel as swindling people out of their life savings, but small sums of money and prized possessions are all fair game.

Stone is not the type of criminal that would normally even register as a blip on STRIKE's radar, however times have changed. Director Anderson has taken a hardline approach to metas, and any meta doing things outside of the law, no matter how minor, now draws their attention.

If Ryder had it his way, he would take Stone out in the alley and put a bullet in his head. However, Stone possesses certain talents that might be usefull to STRIKE.

So a simple snatch and dash.

The black Escalade pulls up to the corner near Stone's apartment building; and ryder gets out along with two other agents, Santana and Taylor, and the three of them head to the front entrance of Stone's building.

The three agents take the back stairwell up five flights of stairs, hoping to avoid having too many people see them as they approach their target. Finally, they reach the fith floor and walk down the corridor to Stone's apartment, number 508. When they arrive in front of their target's door, Ryder bangs on the door, in much the same manner that a police officer would while engaging in a bust.

It takes a few moments, but finally the door opens. Standing in front of the three agents is not your stereotypical menace to society. Instead appearing from behind the door is a rather unassuming young man, several pounds underweight with shaggy brown hair and a five o'clock shadow.

"Yeah? Whattayawant?"

"Stephen Stone?"

"Yeah?" The young man says, suddenly nervous.

Ryder doesn't give him the chance to run. Instead he produces a small syringe and plunges it into Stone's jugular. Stone immediately collapses to the ground, and the three agents quickly step inside the apartment closing the door behind them, to prevent any passers by from seeing what is happening.

Once inside the apartment, Ryder gets on his secure cell phone and dials the direct number to Anderson's office phone.

"Alex, we have the package. Delivery in 25."

 

[Mr. Majestic]

“What are you going to do to me?”

“Just killing you would be to easy, I have something else in mind. I’ve learned some things about myself over the recent mouths. One of the things are my control of my strength. I know how to control the pounds of pressure I can infect on a person. I’m going to start at one and make my way to the total of dead bodies that now lay lifeless because you and your friends did NOTHING! I’m going to make you wish that you did try something and died in the process.”

I look down on this worthless metahuman as he spits up blood profusely. My right fist covered in his blood. It almost feel…feels… waits what’s happening to me.

I stumble back a couple of steps and grab my head. It feels almost as if it is on fire from the inside and I don’t know how to stop it. Something has to be wrong with me I’m not acting like…

“AAAAAHHHHHHHHH!”


I take a moment to get my self back together. The burning sensation in my head is gone. Nothing is wrong with me, for a brief second I had a moment of weakness but I’m back.

“I’m sorry about that I had to collect myself. I seem to be going through something at the moment. But enough about me lets continue on you shall we?” I then begin to make my way back to the helpless metahuman.

As I begin to approach him I can see the fear in his eyes and this feeling makes me feel good inside.

“Ple..ase I’m c….ca…can’t take anymore. I’m so…so..rry just let me…”

I’ve put him through so much he can barely speak. Doesn’t seem like he is going to last to much longer, what a shame.

“Don’t worry, you don’t have to go through anymore I’ll stop.”

By his facial expression I can tell that he is relieved but I don’t know why he should have let me finish.

“Once I give you one more final blow that will end you miserable existence.”

I then stand over top of him and ball my right fist staring into his eyes as he looks back at mine. With the look on his face you would think he was looking at death himself, well in a way I guess he is.

One powerful blow to his heart will end him.

 

[NiteMare Shape]

It only takes Icon several seconds to reach the source of the disturbance, and he is shocked at what he finds...one of his own allies, the teen hero known as The Youngster brandishing his own kind of justice one someone who had nothing to do with the attack on Shakerville at all.

"No...Sam." He thinks to himself as he approaches the scene.

I look down on this worthless metahuman as he spits up blood profusely. My right fist covered in his blood. It almost feel…feels… waits what’s happening to me.

I stumble back a couple of steps and grab my head. It feels almost as if it is on fire from the inside and I don’t know how to stop it. Something has to be wrong with me I’m not acting like…

“AAAAAHHHHHHHHH!”


I take a moment to get my self back together. The burning sensation in my head is gone. Nothing is wrong with me, for a brief second I had a moment of weakness but I’m back.

“I’m sorry about that I had to collect myself. I seem to be going through something at the moment. But enough about me lets continue on you shall we?” I then begin to make my way back to the helpless metahuman.

As I begin to approach him I can see the fear in his eyes and this feeling makes me feel good inside.

“Ple..ase I’m c….ca…can’t take anymore. I’m so…so..rry just let me…”

I’ve put him through so much he can barely speak. Doesn’t seem like he is going to last to much longer, what a shame.

“Don’t worry, you don’t have to go through anymore I’ll stop.”

By his facial expression I can tell that he is relieved but I don’t know why he should have let me finish.

“Once I give you one more final blow that will end you miserable existence.”

I then stand over top of him and ball my right fist staring into his eyes as he looks back at mine. With the look on his face you would think he was looking at death himself, well in a way I guess he is.

One powerful blow to his heart will end him.

Icon lands behind Youngster as he is preparing to make a monumental mistake, one that the young hero will regret for the rest of his life.

"Stop Sam. He's had more than enough."

 

[Mr. Majestic]

It only takes Icon several seconds to reach the source of the disturbance, and he is shocked at what he finds...one of his own allies, the teen hero known as The Youngster brandishing his own kind of justice one someone who had nothing to do with the attack on Shakerville at all.

"No...Sam." He thinks to himself as he approaches the scene.




Icon lands behind Youngster as he is preparing to make a monumental mistake, one that the young hero will regret for the rest of his life.

"Stop Sam. He's had more than enough."

I hear a familiar voice from behind me but it can’t be who I think it is. He has been back for some time and didn’t even let me but he can show up when I’m trying to show this thing the importance of helping people in need.

I turn my head and it is who I knew it to be, Icon.

“I don’t need for you to tell me what to do, those days are over. I’m in control of this situation besides I wasn’t going to kill him. At the last second I was going to hit the ground beside his face.”

Maybe the impact of the blow striking the ground was going to kill him but not my fist.

 

[NiteMare Shape]

I hear a familiar voice from behind me but it can’t be who I think it is. He has been back for some time and didn’t even let me but he can show up when I’m trying to show this thing the importance of helping people in need.

I turn my head and it is who I knew it to be, Icon.

“I don’t need for you to tell me what to do, those days are over. I’m in control of this situation besides I wasn’t going to kill him. At the last second I was going to hit the ground beside his face.”

Maybe the impact of the blow striking the ground was going to kill him but not my fist.

"It doesn't matter what you were going to do. He had nothing to do with what happened here. You claim that you want to help people, that you want to be a hero. It's time that you started acting like one. Because this..." He pauses, clearly disturbed by what he's found.

"This is about as far from being a hero as you can get."

 

[Mr. Majestic]

"It doesn't matter what you were going to do. He had nothing to do with what happened here. You claim that you want to help people, that you want to be a hero. It's time that you started acting like one. Because this..." He pauses, clearly disturbed by what he's found.

"This is about as far from being a hero as you can get."

“Acting like a hero? Did you really just say that to me?”

He couldn’t begin to fathom what I been through.

“I do call myself a hero because I have the right to but you on the other hand don’t. You left remember and I kept on fighting. Do you know how much pressure it is for a teenage to have the weight of the world on his shoulders? It’s a lot. I gave up on what I had left of a life to continue where you left off. But you know what gets me the most? While you were sitting back relaxing, I was out there protecting and fighting. No matter what I did they kept on telling me I would never be you. That I was never going to live up to you. At first it did hurt but then I realize, I don’t want to be you. Why would I won’t to be someone who runs out of his friends and the people who needs him the most? And you tell me I’m not acting like a hero? No Icon you’re the one who stop being a hero.”

 

[NiteMare Shape]

“Acting like a hero? Did you really just say that to me?”

He couldn’t begin to fathom what I been through.

“I do call myself a hero because I have the right to but you on the other hand don’t. You left remember and I kept on fighting. Do you know how much pressure it is for a teenage to have the weight of the world on his shoulders? It’s a lot. I gave up on what I had left of a life to continue where you left off. But you know what gets me the most? While you were sitting back relaxing, I was out there protecting and fighting. No matter what I did they kept on telling me I would never be you. That I was never going to live up to you. At first it did hurt but then I realize, I don’t want to be you. Why would I won’t to be someone who runs out of his friends and the people who needs him the most? And you tell me I’m not acting like a hero? No Icon you’re the one who stop being a hero.”

"You're right. I did...and that's why I left. But now is not the time to talk about this. In case you haven't noticed, someone flattened Shakerville, and they're on the move. I don't know about you, but I'm going to stop them. So you can either stand here and have your own little pitty party, or you can help me stop this guy."

Icon stops for a split second then continues.

"Once we've done that, then we can continue this conversation."

 

[Mr. Majestic]

"You're right. I did...and that's why I left. But now is not the time to talk about this. In case you haven't noticed, someone flattened Shakerville, and they're on the move. I don't know about you, but I'm going to stop them. So you can either stand here and have your own little pitty party, or you can help me stop this guy."

Icon stops for a split second then continues.

"Once we've done that, then we can continue this conversation."

“I know what’s important here I don’t need for you to remind me. If teaming up with you will help me find whatever did this so I can stop it then by all means lets get started.”

For now I’ll work with him but I hope he knows that this conversation is far from over.

 

[NiteMare Shape]

“I know what’s important here I don’t need for you to remind me. If teaming up with you will help me find whatever did this so I can stop it then by all means lets get started.”

For now I’ll work with him but I hope he knows that this conversation is far from over.

Icon nods to Youngster, then takes to the skies, heading East, hoping to find whoever destroyed Shakerville before he leaves another city in ruins.

 

[NiteMare Shape]

Kevin and Erica dine in the cozy dining room of Rizelli's Ristorante, dining on fine Italian cuisine. It is the first time in weeks that they have had the chance to spend a night out on the town together. Kevin has spent most of his nights patrolling the city as Shadow Walker, trying to track down leads that will link Midas to the criminal organization known only as The Cartel, and thus, to his father's murder.

However, his close call with the reptile beast in the city sewers put things in a certain perspective for him. While he was fighting the beast, almost certain that he was going to die alone in the dank sewers, one thought kept running through his mind...that he'd failed.

Not that he'd failed in his mission, that he'd failed to bring The Cartel down and its leader to justice...

But that he'd failed Erica.

He knows that what he does terrifies her. That each night that he dons his Shadow Walker garb, she sits at home fearful that he'll never return. And it was that encounter with the beast that forced the realization that he can't do this forever.

So here they sit, eating a fine meal, discussing what their lives will be like once the mission is complete. What they will do when they return home to Slater City and begin their lives together.

They sit there in Rizelli's, as if they are the only two people in all the world, completely unaware of the man sitting in the far corner of the dining hall, closely watching their every move as he slowly eats his baked ziti.

After leaving Rizelli's, Kevin and Erica spent the evening walking through historic Lost Haven. Since they arrived in Lost Haven, they haven't spent much time out in the city seeing the sights...or the sights that still remained after the alien invasion. However, the historic section of Lost Haven still stands pretty much intact, with very few signs of the war with the invaders.

But tonight is for them. A much needed night out where they don't have to worry about anything other than enjoying one another's company. While normally that would be enough for either of them, they had been pursuaded to partake in a walking ghost tour, where they could see the locations of some of Lost Haven's supposedly most haunted locations. While neither of them particularly believe in ghosts or things of that nature, both love a good ghost story.

They listen to the tour guide, who is dressed as an 18th century highwayman as he spins tales of murder, mayhem and ghostly apparations.

"And as Captain Allen slept quiety in his bed, John Corwin silently made his way down the hall....."

From the rooftops, He watches his prey who are still unaware of his presence. He has been following Kevin Pierce for 3 days, learning everythjing he needs to know about his opponent. And soon...it will be time to strike.

 

[Hound55]

A tense figure drives a black corvette, in a black tracksuit and an even darker demeanour. He’d just done his first reconnaissance sweep on the organization known as S.T.R.I.K.E and little of the news was what he’d call “good”. He’d jumped back on the grid and changed back to the ‘Vette which he was becoming more and more acclimatised to. Isaac felt a vibration run through his hip, lifting his top to check the Guardians pager he was given a brief message not urgent enough to be sent with a priority code.​

“V, cop Hammond trying 2 reach U. Told 2 try your freq.”

Isaac pulled his top back down and changed the frequency from emergency to his own on the car’s radio, then turned it up so he could hear better.​

[BLACKOUT]“Golf-Victor-One, heard you’ve been trying to reach me. Sitrep.”[/BLACKOUT]​

“This is Hammond, you’re really going to keep the formality over your own frequency? Ok. Another body turned up, looks like it could be the same M.O. either same perp or a copycat. Awaiting your presence at the corner of Seventeenth and Carver. Over”​

[BLACKOUT]“Golf-Victor-One, don’t tell me Seventeenth and Carver is still your beat as well? Over”[/BLACKOUT]​

“Ha ha ha. Negative. Let’s just say I’ve been given the prestigious position of unofficial liaison. Over.”​

Isaac couldn’t keep it in as a brief chuckle escaped the darkness of the balaklava.​

[BLACKOUT]“Golf-Victor-One, does this mean that the LHPD are now supporting Vigilante activity..? Over.”[/BLACKOUT]​

No response came over the air, and more laughter filled the Corvette, concealing the morbid reason for its travel.​

Inside the Police Cordon​

A small congregation of law enforcers are gathered around the cadaver when the black ‘Vette arrived on the scene.​

[BLACKOUT]“What are they all doing here contaminating the crime scene? Get back!”[/BLACKOUT] came the synthetic sounding voice from the gruff Guardian.​

“They’re detectives… to be honest, most were more interested in seeing you than the case itself.” As the voice of Sgt Hammond stepped from amongst the group.​

[BLACKOUT]“So who’s working the case..? …You and you? Alright, you four, piss off. Hammond, you can stay since you’re apparently my LHPD designated minder… although it bears the question of who the hell is watching these 4…”[/BLACKOUT]​

Isaac flicked the air filter on his voice modulator on and stepped past the 4 officers he’d just shooed away.​

[BLACKOUT]“And there better not be any damn vomit on my crime scene…”[/BLACKOUT]​

“Ah hell…” Isaac thought to himself realising what the strong odour meant.​

[BLACKOUT]“Well, for starters it looks like I was mistaken last time…”[/BLACKOUT]​

“Yeah..?”​

[BLACKOUT]“Partly…”[/BLACKOUT] Isaac quickly chimed in, cutting off any sarcastic response the Sergeant may have been planning.​

[BLACKOUT]“Looks like… well rather, SMELLS like the perpetrator intended to pierce both the liver with the kidneys last time. Means the mistake he made last time when he grazed it by not skewering it completely, as he has here, rather than it being an accident that he hit the liver at all.”[/BLACKOUT]​

“So what does that mean?”​

[BLACKOUT]“Well it means we have one more reason to want to stop this guy before this happens again… two if you count each nostril… No, I know what you meant. Could be he wants us to find the bodies? Spilling bile is about the fastest way to have corpses found that I could think of… Could be something else... I’d say too early to tell definitively.”[/BLACKOUT]​

Isaac removed the leather exterior gloves and started taking his own notes again.​

“Are we ever going to get these notes that you’re writing yourself? Or is this whole information exchange thing going to be a one way street?”​

Isaac looked up from the small notepad into Hammond’s eyes and beyond, wearily he left a brief pause before saying,​

[BLACKOUT]“Yeah, when I get back to HQ I’ll type ‘em up and shoot them off to you electronically. There’s nothing really in here that I’m not saying out loud though anyway…”[/BLACKOUT]​

The Vigilante finished scrawling what was on his mind and pocketed it, a sigh was heard as an unintelligible sound from the voice modulator, which made him cringe himself, as he started to survey the victim more closely.​

[BLACKOUT]“Alright, let’s see what we’ve got here… Kidney pierced… Other kidney pierced and as we’ve already established the liver too… Neck… untouched. Well that would support my theory last time. That he panicked and did it on instinct… Now he’s getting better…”[/BLACKOUT]​

Fontaine rose back to his feet from his hunched over position to best inspect the neck and his attention returned to what was most immediately obvious.​

[BLACKOUT]“Back's got minor lacerations again… Some deeper though. Hmm…”[/BLACKOUT]​

Isaac’s eyes were fixed on the small of the dead man’s back.​

[BLACKOUT]“That seems to have too much significance to just be a coincidental pattern… What do you see there?”[/BLACKOUT]​

Hammond stepped over and looked at what the Guardian’s representative was referring to:

“It… It looks kind of like a snake. Pretty crude though…”​

[BLACKOUT]“Well yeah, it’s going to be crude, he’s using a shiv or something and he’s not exactly going to think we’re going to cut the skin off this guy’s back, stretch it out like a canvas and exhibit it at MoMA…”[/BLACKOUT]​

“You sure..? Somma these whack jobs…”​

[BLACKOUT]“Hammond, give these people some credit ‘til they prove themselves unworthy of it… That’s my advice.”[/BLACKOUT]​

“Kid, I’ve been doing this job for 15-some years… If anyone’s going to be giving lectures on human nature here, it’s going to be me.”​

[BLACKOUT]“Sergeant, it wasn’t advice for your personal life… I don’t give a damn how you think that way; I don’t know you and I don’t care to know you. It’s professional advice… If you can’t empathise, get a clear view of the rationale behind the subject, how can you hope to predict his movements? If you’re trying to test me you can go join the other 4. You want to call me “kid” you can chase your dumbarse rookie partner around the office and go back to trying to teach him the ins-and-outs of how to use police tape and which end of the radio to talk into…”[/BLACKOUT]​

[BLACKOUT]“You don’t want advice on how crime scene operates, fine. You want to be a traffic cop the rest of your life chasing more dumbarse rookies as the senior officer in traffic, great. But you expect me to put up with your attitude, we’re gonna have a problem. I’m not one of your rookie cops… I have my methods, they’re established. I can work with you or around you, if you’re somehow under the illusion that I NEED you… then you’re misinformed.”[/BLACKOUT]​

The two men once again traded cold glares. The other two detectives who were working the case looked on uncomfortably.​

“Are you done?” asked the Sergeant, breaking the silence.​

[BLACKOUT]“Hopefully…”[/BLACKOUT] as Isaac went back to the crime scene.​

The pair continued in an uneasy dialogue for the duration of Isaac’s inspection, no longer exchanging unnecessary pleasantries throughout, Isaac made it clear what data he would be wanting from the C.S.I. to go with the victim's data and left. The two detectives were noticeably quiet the entire time.​

The dark figure slumped in the corvette’s car seat and let his frustration wash over him. He bit back again… Isaac didn’t have that many friends in the first place and could ill afford to lose the people who could tolerate him. Not so much from a professional point of view, but definitely for his own sanity. He cursed himself out under his breath and declared that it must be his need for rest. Isaac changed the car over under cover as he had so many times before.​

Hours later Isaac could be found passed out in one of his privately set up hideouts, the TV on the news and his chair surrounded by empty beer bottles.​