The Goldmar Incident: A Superhero Role-Play { Accepting Applicants via PM }

[NeoAC]

Sticking together? I don't really want to remember this happening and everyone wants form a club around it? Why? That's like Red March survivors reuniting to reminice. But when more people, including the girl she was banking on a ride from started to join in and offer their phones for contact info, it appeared that Kayla was going to have to go with the flow.

"All right, here's my phone," Kayla said, adding her device to the rotation. "Do your best to break it, I could use a new one."

As they passed around the phones and she started entering info in each one, Kayla tried to think of the place Lisette mentioned. Festival...OK, the little coffee place with the nice seating by the bay window, that's right. Good reading light, able to block the sun while working on the comp, and then all those lights at night. Huh, that means this girl quite possibly could have served me coffee at some point. And now we're linked by more than a tall green tea frappe. This world works in weird ways sometimes.

Talk seemed to be turning to plans. "I won't be doing much. Just more reading I suppose. All I seem to do." Though this does mean I could try a couple of the more complex recipes I got. That coconut shrimp looked pretty good...

 

[Pm0n3y]

"Hm." It seemed some had responded to the idea a bit more positively than Dominic was expecting. He was expecting at least one of the students to decline the offer, or tell him off. Instead, Noel approached the three and suggested they exchange numbers. "I-I mean, all of us should exchange contact info!" Flustered, she corrected her herself, and looked away from Dominic. He didn't fully realize the implications of her suggestion until he saw the tint of red that grew in her face. He smirked some before reaching for his phone. "Yeah, i'm down for that."

Before he could comment further, others in the area began to gather, and exchange pleasantries, including the more quieter ones. Chris introduced herself, as well as Adam. "Here, you can put your numbers in here if you want." She offered her phone. Taking incentive, Dominic accepted it, fiddling with the device some as he went through the menus needed to add his info to the phone's address book.

"Chris, right? I'm Dominic." He looked up from her phone in that second, offering to shake her hand. "I've been meaning to talk to you...about how you're feeling. I remember you sitting next to me that day." He hesitantly followed up. "Are those even the right words to say? Am I doing this right? Paz said I should be more comforting, but I don't want to come off as insensitive in the process." He thought in an unsure, somewhat scolding tone.

After putting his number in, he called it using her phone. Expectantly, his vibrated in his pocket, signalling that he had her number as well. "...Uhh...Okay, that's my number. I'm (most likely) gonna be working on my graduation project for most of this week (if class'll be out), so if you call, i'll answer." He told her with the slightest of smiles as he handed her the phone. A wince on pain interrupted the motion, and put a hand to the gauze and wrappings on his head. "Welp, that expected headache's startin' up." He thought, moving to add his info to Noel's phone next.

 

[elementsoul]

Marcus signed the release papers and received his personal effects from the officer. Everything appeared in to be order, but the fact that his phone battery had been removed annoyed Marcus. The back plate battery door was held in place by two screws, and Marcus lacked such a screw driver on his person. Instead he put the battery in and slid the back plate into place, before pocketing the bag with the two screws he?d have to reinstall later.

Quickly he restarted his phone and once booted the battery bar showed a quarter life span; plenty of time before he?d get home. Quickly he checked to see if the video was still there, and to his surprise it was. Maybe they copied it, maybe they didn?t know it was there, but Marcus only knew that it was still there.

Marcus began to pull up his previous conversation with his brother and text him to comeback, but the group of people from the hall talking about exchanging phone numbers and passing their phones around. Quickly he reverted back to the main screen and opened up his address book and joined into the circle.

?I might as well get your numbers as well. You never know if something comes up that everyone needs to know about. My program is done for the summer, so I should be available at almost any time,? Marcus said as he passed around his phone while entering his number into others. In truth he was worried about side effects from the gas, not the stupid wing bullshit that someone said earlier, but actual problems like tumors or lung conditions arising.

 

[Baldrek]

After having finally calmed down, and getting visited by a understandably relieved roommate, the time came for Amanda to leave the hospital together with a group of other Goldmar students. Not before having a short talk with the police though, but that had been graciously brief. Not that Amanda had anything against the police, but she was still feeling a little bit shaken from the incident, and while the prospect of recounting events in full at a later date didn't exactly appeal to her it was something that she agreed was necessary. The officer had been rather nice though, arranging for her to get a phone call back home to let her parents know that she was doing well, much to their relief.

Once she had left the hospital and the other survivors in her group had gone off on their own, she and Maria, her roommate, had started walking towards the police station where her belongings were being held. Amanda had initially wished to just take the bus to the station and get back home quickly, but Maria had convinced her that she needed to just take things easy and calm down properly. Something Amanda felt she could hardly argue with considering the initial state she had been in when her friend had come to visit.

Taking it easy the two friends eventually got the Stonefalcon's 3rd Precinct, thanks to the map on Maria's phone, but their leisurely walk seemed to have put Amanda at the very back of the line when it came to reclaiming her belongings. Walking into the station it seemed that every one of the people that had been released at the same time as her was already here, either waiting for their things or having just finished waiting for them to be returned.

Walking up to the counter, Amanda briefly looked around at the assembled students and people she gathered were either friends of them or relatives as she noted the way some of them were talking. Seemed that some tensions were still running high after the incident, but it wasn't surprising, she could hardly say that she'd gotten over it herself. Still, with quite a lot of them standing near the entryway and chatting they seemed a lot more... Well, cheerful than she had first thought would be the case.

"Hello, can I help you?" The officer on duty asked her after a loud cough, drawing her attention back towards the desk in front of her and the officer sitting there.

"Ah, yes. I would like to retrieve my possessions... From Goldmar University." She answered with a little pause, Goldmar University was still liked heavily to the immense feeling of despair she had felt in the lecture hall, something that she was sure wasn't going to change in the near future. Not after she had heard about how many of her fellow students had lost their lives there. "Uhm... Name's Amanda Zegers."

What followed could be described as the usual back and forth of bureaucracy, with the officer asking her to describe her items, which she did, and him asking her to sit down and wait for them to find the correct items.

Thanking the police officer, Amanda and Maria found a vacant spot on one of the benches near the other students and sat down to wait for her belongings to be returned.

 

[Lambi]

Chris took the offer and shook Dominic's hand back, then blushed a little at how he seemed to have been concerned for her. They barely knew each other and he cared about how she'd been feeling after this? Once he was finished talking, she responded to it. "W-well, I'm feeling about as well as someone would after what happened to us. I'm glad to see that you're doing better, considering the head wound you received back then."

When she mentioned that, she remembered that she did have a question of her own for him. "Do you know what happened to the sweater I used to put pressure on your wound? I didn't have it with me at the hospital, so I assumed you might have it." Maybe he didn't even know about the sweater, but she had to ask. It wasn't a big loss for her if it wasn't with him, but it would still have been annoying to lose a perfectly good sweater. Her phone was still going amongst everyone else, so she wasn't thinking too much about that at the moment.

 

[Pm0n3y]

"Sweater?" It was clear Dominic didn't know about the sweater. But by the way Chris described things, such an simple article of clothing might've played a bigger role than he could've expected. "It was that bad, huh?" He smiled earnestly through the steadily throbbing headache. "Now i'm really glad you were there. I probably would've bled out otherwise." As he talked, he brought his rucksack to his front, blindly rummaging through it to see if they left the sweater in his possession. Sure enough, after digging through the first layers of things that inhabited the bag, Dominic brushed his hand against something soft.

He pulled for it, the item squeezing past all the other things that had been placed atop it. What surfaced was a pristine white sweater (one of which Dom half-expected to be covered in blood, yet wasn't, he assumed they must've washed it before giving it back). "Was she wearing this when I first met her?" He couldn't remember. "It's a nice sweater either way." He folded it some before handing it to her. "So, I guess this means I owe you, right? What, with you basically saving my life n' all." Dominic queried with a playful smirk as he placed his bag back to its original position on his back.

 

[Lambi]

Chris just smiled a bit when Dominic asked whether it had been that bad. "Well, I just did what I could do before the gas hit me and knocked me out. I'm just glad that you're alright and didn't bleed out." She gladly took the sweater back, took her handbag off her shoulder and put her sweater back on before placing her handbag back on.

She giggled awkwardly and rubbed the back of her head when Dom then said he owed her. "It was nothing, really. I couldn't just leave you there to bleed out when I noticed your head wound. You don't have to owe me any more than you feel you should." She didn't want him to feel like he owed her too much. It had been the least she could do for him, and it was enough for her to know that he was alright after all that happened.

 

[socialtangent]

Brent slouched out of his old bed. After being released from the hospital, his parents insisted he stay with them for at least a little while. Given that his father was a doctor, that was probably the best idea. Despite the comfortable and familiar surroundings, he was hard-pressed to find some rest. The trauma of the attack was still fresh in his mind, and he felt somewhat feverish. His attempt at a nap was mostly tossing and turning. After a while, Brent gave up and read the clock.

2:32 PM

His cell phone was still in the possession of Silverhollow P.D. so he had no alarm to wake him up. Not that he minded very much. But in any case, Brent still needed his phone back. It was being held at the police department, along with everyone else's stuff. He changed out of his sweaty clothes, showered, and got dressed. He threw on a black t-shirt and jeans; he wasn't in the mood to dress up. His parents gave him a ride over to the station and waited in the car as he went inside.

Brent recognized a few of the faces in the police station as he approached the front desk. The man behind the counter looked up from his keyboard.

"I'm Brent Foster...I was at Goldmar," Brent said quietly. "My cell phone's here, I need it back."

"Sure thing. First, I'm gonna need an ID," was the clerk's reply.

Brent produced his state-issued ID from his wallet and handed it over. The clerk examined it for a second and handed it back, satisfied.

"Can you describe the item in question?"

"An iPhone 4. Black case with a black-on-white plaid design on the back."

The clerk nodded. "It'll be a few minutes, Mr. Foster."

"No problem," Brent replied. He stepped away from the counter and leaned against a nearby wall. Some of the others were engaged in conversation. He didn't feel much like intruding, so he kept quiet.

 

[Dogmatic99]

"well it was... nice meeting you all." Adam said, going through the motions of social interaction.

He was still totally stumped with what to actually say to them after all that had happened so he stuck with the comfort of the familiar. When in doubt stic with the cliches, it was the family way! He took his phone back as it made its way around the circle and back to him. He shoved it in his pocket and shouldered his bag. Time to get going before things got awkward... again.

"Guess I'll head out. Um, see you guys around I guess." He moved through the door. "Bye." He waved, half turning back to them.

He thought he'd head to The Festival before going home. He still dreaded spending any long period of time with his parents more than the time he spent in the hospital somehow. I need a drink. Screw it if it's only early afternoon, I've been through a trauma! Yeah! That was enough to justify it to himself.

he walked on in silence, humming to himself. Adam had never like the quiet, he didn't know why, it just made him feel restless. Eventually he found his way to The Festival and managed to bag one of his regular spots in the corner, greedily hogging a group booth. Been through trauma! He told himself as a passing group glared at him and his self satisfied bag.

MAybe he should have invited the others?

 

[CounterAttack]

The last of the numbers were soon exchanged, with Adam leaving soon after. "I guess we should go as well... see you around," Lisette noted, gesturing to Kayla that they should leave together. Her parents were a little surprised by the request for a lift, but agreed without any issues.

[hr]

Nefarious' Journals:

Project Transcendence Log Update: Operatives within Elixir Hospital report no major activity for at least eighteen hours. That is to be expected. Passive subjects often cultivate the best results. Experiments 14 through 34 have shown that conscious minds do not cope as well with the transcendence procedure. Their bodies try to reject the serum. They feared the unknown: they should have embraced it. The same could be said of the Goldmar subjects...

Some survivors are apparently socialising with one another. They are not yet aware of the first signs. The changes will show themselves, soon enough.

Personal Entry: The incineration cannon schematics need some fine-tuning. Got to make it lighter: I want this thing to be man-portable. Two people in a team lugging the thing around would be a waste of manpower... Could it be fixed to a trooper's back and shoulder? Possible, possible. Would have to replace the SRT unit though. Strength over mobility in that case.

New plan. Fit the main part of the casing on the suit's back, build half a dozen prototypes and pick a handful for testing them.

[hr]

Over the course of the next few days, the students were subjected to more than just the police knocking on their doors for witness statements. Groups from the press and news networks quickly took to setting up outside their homes or places of work, hoping for snippets of information, interviews or the opportunity to build on the developing story that was the Goldmar incident. Soon the President himself had visited Silverhollow personally to address the media and converse with a few of the survivors.

[hr]

It was six days since the attack now, and Lisette was thoroughly sick of people knocking on her apartment door. She'd taken to both locking it and keeping the chain in place to deter people from badgering her with questions. If they had the look and mannerisms of a reporter - of any kind - she slammed the door on them after the third day. Always the same questions, poking at the details of the attack... she'd taken to slipping out the back of her building and taking a bus to The Festival. There had been some staring, but at least no-one was whispering behind their hands or anything.

Then the day after the Presidential visit - Lisette had stayed home to avoid getting caught up in it - federal agents had shown up at her door. A pair from the FBI. That had been a drastic change from the usual.

- - -​

"You understand, Miss Gray, we have to look into every possibility. This might seem outrageous, but we need to know if you have anything at all to do with the attack."

"What?! No! I wasn't... involved with it, if that's what you mean. I got an email inviting me to a one-time lecture," she explained, surprised they even considered the idea that she had contributed to the attack. "The guy claimed to be a geneticist... at least, in the message I got. Some of the others said he had other professions."

"Alright... We asked because as far as we know, only a small portion of those who were caught in the attack were killed by the... 'genobomb', it was called. Let's move on. We have some video footage taken at the scene. Do you recognise this man?" One of the agents held out a slightly blurry still shot. Camera footage, slightly shaky, enlarged from the original size. But the face was clear enough. Lisette nodded. "Yeah, that's... that's the guy. Nefarious, he called himself." Her answer was rather quiet.

- - -​

That had been yesterday, now. She was tired of sitting around at home during the day to avoid the press, and sneaking out to get to work. She'd been told by her boss, a slightly rotund man by the name of Mitchell Johnstone, that she was to take some time off to recuperate from the events. He'd pulled some strings and gotten others to fill in for her absence. However, the day after that, she'd refused to take 'don't come in' for an answer. She needed to get back to work; she didn't want to sit around like an invalid when she could be working.

It was around 4:30 in the afternoon: Lisette wasn't due in for an hour or so yet, but she didn't really care. She wanted life to just return to normal, even though she knew it wouldn't for a long time. The Goldmar attack would be on the news for weeks, months even. All the same, she was trying to live as normally as possible. So she made her way through her apartment building, paying no heed to any of the handful of members of the press that were sitting around except to shield her eyes from their cameras.

The trip to The Festival was much easier by car than by bus. Once parked in the staff lot, Lisette breathed a sigh of relief. Here she could get away from the rest of the world. The Festival was a flashy enough bar, but it kept its ostentation down a bit compared to some of the others in Silverhollow. Where you could normally hear loud music coming from other bars or clubs, this one kept rather quiet. Just some music at the bar and the TV, more noise if a game was on. It was quieter than other bars, a little less frivolous.

Lisette liked it that way. She hurried inside, changing into appropriate clothing and affixing a name-tag to her top. Mitchell was manning the kitchen with a couple of others. "Lisette! You're early. What's up?"

"Nothing serious, boss-man, just needed a change of pace," she explained. "Need a hand anywhere in particular?"

"Haven't seen Monty yet... could you get behind the counter for a while with Roxy and serve drinks?" Mitchell asked.

"Sure thing," was Lisette's response as she slipped back out to the front of the bar. One other bartender was already present, a curvy brunette girl doing tricks with a cocktail shaker while a few guys sat at the counter and watched her work. "Hey, Lisette. How's things? People still knockin' on your door?" Roxy queried as she poured her shaker's contents into a glass, produced a garnish by sleight of hand, and slid the drink over to one of the waiting men with a wink and a smile.

"Yeah... it's not fun," Lisette noted quietly. "Couple of guys from the FBI, this time. That was... bleah." She took up an empty shaker, occasionally spinning it with a flick of her hand. "It's one thing to read about the whole Goldmar thing in the paper or watch the news... but another to be involved in it." Her expression turned sombre as she remembered the panic in the lecture hall. The screaming, the gunshot, the bomb... the past did not paint a pretty picture.

Roxy stopped and hugged Lisette, who returned the gesture. "Aww, I'm sorry. Let's get off that topic, eh? 'Sides, we got people watching. Sorry, gents," she added, turning back to the guys sitting at the bar. Most of them shrugged, save for one who raised an empty glass and a newcomer taking a seat, oblivious to the lull in activity. Roxy took the refill order, leaving Lisette to deal with the new guy. "Hey, what can I getcha?"

"Just a Bacardi and Coke, thanks," the guy answered, sliding the cash over with a generous tip. Lisette promptly got to work: she took up a glass, found the appropriate bottle from the bar's ranks of alcohol and poured a decent measure. There were no fancy tricks involved in this particular drink, at least none that she knew of. After filling the rest of the glass from a soda gun, she slid it over to the customer.

Both of them failed to notice the frosted handprint she'd left on the glass. It was soon obscured by condensation.

 

[Dogmatic99]

When people go through a near death experience they tend to talk about how lucky they feel, how every day is a gift. Some of them find god and go on and on about how MUCH they love EVERYTHING AND EVERYONE and from that day forth sunshine and rainbows stream out of their ass and isn't that just the best-DAMN-thing-ever.

At least that's what the T.V. shows Adam had seen and the people he'd met at church had always said. For his part Adam spent most of his time watching stuff on the internet. He couldn't say why but one evening shortly after getting home he was in his room, staring at the ceiling, flashing back to that moment in the lecture hall for maybe the tenth time that day when... well it just stopped. And all that was left was a single thought. His friend, Jake, had told him about this show called "The Mentalist". Jake loved it, the show had been out forever but Adam had never seen it.

Between all those thoughts of eath and horror, remembering the smell of burningflesh and the sounds of people crying out for their loved ones and choking on their own lungs as a mad man laughed all the while all Adam could think was... "I should really get around to watching The Mentalist."

He couldn't remember what he did between watching episodes, eat, sleep, drink (and maybe go for a walk occasionally) mostly. But the next thing he knew three seasons had gone by and Adam had a new favourite show and a big 'ol crush on Simon Baker.

Behind every cloud.

Then one day the president came to town and Adam's parents shook him from his stuper. His dad even dragged him down to the local barbers and the two of them got haircuts together. Sometimes Adam's mind boggled at things like this. Were they glimpses into what his dad wanted him to be? It was cringe worthy. The whole thing between the two of them felt so outdated. Screw that. He stopped that line of thought dead. He had enough crap to deal with without worrying about the usual.

The days went by and his dad and his younger brother coaxed him into helping out around the farm while his mum kept him busy with house work. He did eventually catch onto what they were up to, trying to keep him busy and stop him dwelling on what happened... he appreciated it. For a while it almost felt like old times, like he was little and in school again. But it couldn't last, eventually the background tension built up again, Adam got more distant, snappish and just had to get out of there.

He had only been home for about a week but it didn't matter, he backed his bags, said his goodbyes and went back to his dorm at Goldmar wih his tail between his legs. Coward.

___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Everything was prety much how he'd left it. Adam unpacked the little he'd brought from home and generally just went about settling in again. He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror that made him do a double take.

Ugh, look at you. He thought, pawing at his skin. He hadn't spent that long shut up in his room had he? His usual sunkissed complexion was gone, now he just looked sickly pale. Practically gray. He hopped in the shower, trying to wash the misery off himself. That's it! I need to start getting out again.

With that Adam geared up in his usual jogging gear, set his ipod to shuffle and hit his usual route. MAking sure to wear something with a hood. Hiding out in rural Lake Alabaster hadn't saved him from the vultures in the media. His face and those of the other survivors had been plastered up everywhere over the past few days, almost as much as the people who'd died. Just one of the reasons he hadn't wanted to go to the stupid presidential visit. Although it was pretty cool getting a photo with him, maybe he could put it on his resume?

He carried on at a pretty regular pace, speeding up when his ipod shuffled onto a heavy rock song. He had to weave through the more corwded streets, edging past a few business folk out for lunch. A few of them shot him this look, like they recognized him, or thought they did. Adam had to push down the urge to turn round and start up at them.

They weren't thinking it. It's all in your head.

Adam picked up speed, trying to tire himself out, just push all thoughts out in a haze of ragged breath and sweat. He came across a set of traffic lights and started jogging on the spot, a thing he hated. The lights were taking their sweet time changing, he pushed the button a few times. "Come on." he panted. "Come on." He started tapping the button like crazy. "Come oooon!" He slammed his thumb down, pushing the button as far as it would go... and the lights went out. Adam stopped jogging and looked at the little WAIT sign he'd been harassing. It had gone out too.

"Stupid thing." It must have been on the fritz.

Adam managed to work his way across the busy road in the confusion as a bunch of rage filled drivers vied for place among the confused traffic. He decided to call it quits. The Festival was just a block away, why the hell not get something cold? He wandered in and slumped himself at the bar, looking much less cool than the other guys there with his sweaty hoody tied around his waist.

"Hey!" He waved over at Lisette, suprised to see her behind the bar. "Um... can I just get a coke thank? Plenty of ice please."

 

[Pm0n3y]

All the publicity, the paparazzi, the news stories, the unwanted attention...it was all anticipated. Dominic couldn't help but see all the commotion coming. And yet, he couldn't prepare for it. It was pure coincidence, but deciding to stay at his mother's house in Stonefalcon (rather than going immediately back to the campus) saved him a day or two of bombardment. But, eventually they found him, and neither he nor his mother could take two steps out her house without some sort of paparazzi harassment.

"I need to get out of here, she doesn't need to be mixed in all of this." He thought of his mother, knowing that it'll all eventually begin to take a toll on her. "But...i'm sure the event itself shook her pretty hard. I know she's not gonna want me to be out of her arms reach for a while..." The contrarian thoughts of actions constantly plagued him, but he knew he had to stay close as he constantly saw her concerned frowns whenever he left the house.

He thinks back to the day after leaving the police station. Maria called him into the living room, her tone high on urgency. The Channel 2 news was on. Reports on the incident were still coming in rapidly, though none really had any real leads. Though, one reporter managed to get a recording of the event, most likely taken from a student's phone. "The images you are about to see...are very disturbing." She hesitantly told to the camera before the video started. From the angle and perspective of the video, the student was somewhere in the the back of the hall, and could see just about everything.

The video started near the end of Nefarious' spiel, right after the one student was shot. In the lower left corner of the flick, he could catch a tiny glimpse of himself, falling to the ground after the soldier struck him down. "This, my students, is the key to your transcendence. It is a genobomb, a biological tool devised by yours truly for one specific, non-lethal purpose." He spoke, his smug, lofty appearance causing Dominic to clench his fists. He remembered hearing these same words, but the appearance of them coming out of the terrorist's mouth put him on edge.

As he left, the screams started, or rather, resumed. The hall broke out into a frenzy, students trampling over one another to get out of the aisles, curling up and crying, panicked yells calling out for parents. The screams strenghened as the gas released from the device, and what students that were at the doors, doubled their efforts to break out. Just off-camera, kids started calling loved ones, policemen, firemen, anyone. Some trying to explain the situation, some just saying their goodbyes. Maria took on a look of shock as she moved closer to her son. Dominic, on the other hand, displayed an expression of clear aggravation. "I should've done more...I should've..." It angered him that he was subdued so fast.

Eventually the screaming began to quiet as kids started fainting, and the video ended soon after the cameraman suffered the safe fate. Once the broadcasting flashed back to the news anchor, Dom left in a huff. "I'm going out." He said in a exasperated mumble, almost slamming the door behind him. As he expected, a gaggle of cameras and microphones approached him, all wanting him to comment on the event in some sort of way. He had to stop himself from planting a fist into a journalist's face as he shoved his way through the crowd.

[hr]

Despite this, he's been keeping up with Christine over the week, and she with him (the latter taking Dominic by surprise). One's usually pretty willing to talk to the other, and they even started hanging out on some occasion, usually to get their minds off of the event. It was unexpected at first, but Dom began to appreciate it as they grew into friendship.

At breakfast today, Maria approached her son in something more casual than usual. "Aren't you going to school today?" He asked her. "Not entirely~! Today a few of the classes (mine included) are going on a field trip to the Silverhollow Museum of Natural History! And you're gonna be my chaperone!" Dom raised an eyebrow as he took his attention from the newspaper he was reading. "I...I am?"

"Yup! So get dressed! It'll be great Domo. A nice, calm day with my kids, and my son. And besides, you need to start getting out of the house more!" She concluded before bouncing away. "But I do get out of the house..." He sighed. Dominic knew how his mother worked, she wasn't going to take no for an answer. Learning this at a young age, Dom decided he'd rather fall in line, than to try to talk his way out of it. But as he rose from the dining table, an idea sparked into his brain. With his phone nearby, he quick-dialed Christine's number. As she answered, he began to present an offer.

"Hey Chris, up for a field trip?" He began, beginning towards his room. "My mom's taking her class to the museum, and I gotta chaperone. Wanna tag along?" He proposed, closing his room's door behind him as he began searching for something to wear.

 

[Lambi]

There were paparazzi hounding at Chris' door, much like for pretty much everyone else, wanting to get an interview from her. But she didn't want to talk about it. She wanted to forget it. She wanted those people to go home and stop pestering her about the event. Her family had to regularly drive them away from their door to get some peace and quiet. "The media never learns." Tyler said as they had driven the media away for a fifth time now in just two days. "They don't leave us alone because they want to cover the story, I get that. But we just want to be left alone." He wasn't really talking to anyone specific, but Susan nodded in agreement and followed her husband as they went to the living room to relax and watch some TV.

Chris spent most of her time at home in her bedroom, trying to draw something to distract her mind with, but coming up with nothing but the events at Goldmar University and the annoying paparazzi that wouldn't let them be. Her family checked up on her now and then to make sure she was alright, which she convinced them she was, even though she really wasn't. This whole mess had affected her artistic skills and she was unsure when she'd get an inspiration from something else. She sometimes threw her pencil away in frustration and just lay in her bed while staring out the window, and at other times she picked up her phone and called Dominic to see if he wanted to do something.

She and him had been talking over the phone for a bit before they started to actually hang out together, doing various things together or just walking and talking, which was what she needed, and he probably needed as well. He was a fun guy to hang out with, and it was pretty nice to have a friend like him.

One day the president came for a visit, wanting a word with Chris and her family. Chris reluctantly went downstairs to listen to what he had to say, though she didn't let herself appear like she wasn't interested or wasn't listening to what he had to say. She was still relieved when he left since the whole time he was there it all seemed too formal for her.
[hr]
This particular morning felt same-y. Get up, brush teeth, take a shower, put some clothes on, then find something to do. Chris went to her room and picked up her pencil and sketchbook and tried to think of something to draw yet again. She looked out the window to find inspiration, but nothing felt really worth drawing. She'd already found inspiration from things from her room, and from most of the inside of the house. She'd even drawn her whole family, both separately and together. Well, aside from herself. She didn't like doing self portraits, they never came out right for her.

This time wasn't any different from any other time she'd tried to draw these past six days. She just put her pencil and sketchbook down and lay down in her bed. She didn't get to be like that for long, though, as her phone rang and she had to answer it. It was Dominic. "Hey Chris, up for a field trip? My mom's taking her class to the museum, and I gotta chaperone. Wanna tag along?"

It's not like she was going to be doing anything important today, so why not? "Yeah, I'd like to come with you. It'll make it less boring for both of us. I'll be over there in a bit~" she said with a smile. "Great! See you then!" Dominic said back before they both hung up and Chris got up. She grabbed her white, light jacket and headed out. Right now, there weren't any paparazzi visible, so it was relatively safe to go outside her front door. Dom's place was a fair distance away, but she could walk it.

As she walked, an unusual amount of dust gathered around her as she walked. It parted each time she took a step, but attempted to regather around her right afterwards. She hadn't noticed it herself, but it was making her sandals and feet a little dirtier than they would have otherwise gotten. She arrived at Dominic's house after a while of walking, and knocked on his door.

 

[NeoAC]

Kayla barely enjoyed the car ride home more than the bus but was still grateful for the lift. She endured the usual sort of questions. What are your basic stats? What degree are you taking? Where are you from? At least they didn't add a REALLY in there. That earned some brownie points. It was a shorter ride than Kayla expected, but she was glad to be home after that whole ordeal. It was time to relax, do some reading and put the whole ordeal behind her.

[hr]

Except it would never be that easy. The day after, they started showing up. Reporters, the scum of the earth. They started bugging her right as she got out the door to pick up groceries. She told them she wasn't talking but they weren't taking "Go away" for an answer. They pestered her all the way to the store and all the way back. It was tough to focus on getting quality ingredients knowing they would be crushed on the way back. She didn't attempt to leave after that.

The next day, her parents called. Apparently it took them two days to realize that 'Hey, our daughter DOES go to that university that is in the news. Maybe we should check on her.' If it was Harvard attacked, they would have gone in person to make sure their precious Cameron was fine. Of course her grades were the first question, but when the topic came to the terrorist attack, she lied. She said she was in the library and heard about it when they evacuated the campus. After that, it was just the usual 'keep studying' rigmarole and a curt goodbye. As expected.

[hr]

The attention lessened for a couple days, but when El Presidente himself showed up, it came back with twice the force. He brought with him new packs of roving writers, and the situation in Silver Hollow was being blown up to New York proportions. Kayla didn't even attempt to leave her place, even though she was told the President wanted to meet with her and the other survivors. She didn't want any attention. After four years of being relatively isolated, to have all this interest thrust upon her this fast, it was starting to take a toll. Reading was impossible with perpetual calls for interviews, quotes, and rumor confirm/denies involving Nicholas Hoult, and she couldn't even leave even if she wanted to. All she could do was cook, and that did offer some solace. It was also a convenient excuse to get off the phone. Still, all the stress was starting to build up, and there wasn't much room to begin with, what with the need to do better in school than other family members, and now she was running low on ingredients.

This was confirmed when a quick search of her kitchen revealed only condiments and scraps of pasta. Damn it, now what? I'm not ordering from any of those atrocious places nearby. They probably store their veggies in some slimy trough. Do I really want to risk going outside though? A rumble from her stomach didn't give her many options. All right, I'll just try and get out there to pick up some stuff and get back. Maybe I'll get lucky and they'll have moved on.

Picking up a few things to help try and camouflage herself from the vultures outside, slipping on a pair of sunglasses over her regular ones, yet unable to find a hat to throw atop her head. A couple of cloth bags with her satchel and she was ready enough to try to make this covert run. Leaving her apartment was a good start, but she could already see the cameras and notepads circling around the end of the driveway. OK, just have to get by them without anything happening...

"Hey, there's one of the survivors! Ms. Lin? Ms. Lin!"

"Ms. Lin!"

Well that worked... The journalists moved over to Kayla's position and tried to encircle her while firing questions.

"Ms. Lin, are you exhaling green gas?" "No..."

"Is it true Spielberg has signed on to direct the movie version of the Goldmar Incident?" "What? I don't know!"

"ARE YOU WORKING FOR THE NORTH KOREANS?!?" "I'm not Korean, you racist!"

"Ms. Lin!" "Lin!" "Ms. Lin!"

This was too much. The swarm was building and it was too much for Kayla to cope with all at once. She turned around and took off in a dead sprint, hoping to just outrun the problem but she could still hear the prying voices from behind. She had the advantage of not having to worry about expensive photographic equipment or notepads flying as she ran, and eventually it caught up to the out of shape journalists. She couldn't tell how far she ran, she was only running for about 10 minutes, but it was enough to ditch the gaggle of soundbiters. She stopped in an alley outside of The Festival to catch her breath. She wasn't built for long-distance running and it showed. Damn it this sucks. I wish I'd never gone to that stupid seminar. Why'd I have to go that extra mile? I was doing fine. Why'd I let this happen? As she looked up at the building, the dark inside looked rather inviting. I could use a beverage after all that running.

Kayla entered what she thought was the cafe, but was now shifting into bar mode, with people already moving to tables with their drinks as music played. Shoot. I guess this means no tea. Well, as long as it's wet it'll be fine, I suppose. She approached the counter, one open space visible amongst the drinkers already perched there. It was littered with straws, napkins and stray coins, presumably cheap tips for the waitstaff. The girl who had given her a lift the other day, Lisette, that's her name, she was working the bar. It appeared she was busy with customers down at the other end at the moment. Another girl slid into her view.

"What can I getcha?"

Kayla didn't really have anything in particular in mind and hadn't thought to pick a menu up. "Oh, um, a drink."

"Gonna need to be a little more specific than that."

"At the moment as long as it's cold and wet, I'll take it."

"Right then, I'll get ya one of the specials. Cost ya $3.75"

Kayla set her purse up, trying to avoid a slight spill caused by another patron. Digging in, she found a $5 bill and tossed it towards the bartender. She took it and rushed off to fetch a drink. Kayla looked at the place, it was certainly different than in the lunchtime hour, with the neon lights starting to come on and the tables adorned not with computers and books, but colorful drinks and little lanterns. She glanced at her usual corner, there appeared to be a couple of older gentleman hoisting beers over there, but near them was an unoccupied spot she could possibly take. If I can get my drink quick enough, I should be-

"Here ya go, champ." The barlady placed the drink and the change next to it.

Ugh, the dollars on top of the coin though. Why do they do that? And that hardly looks to be worth that much money. I'm not tipping her for that. That's for sure. "Thank you," Kayla replied softly as she went to grab her purchase. The special was apparently ginger ale, a rather small glass for $3.75 though. Kayla grabbed it and the money and went to claim her spot.

Sitting down, she went to put the remains of her bill in her purse. Wait, didn't she say $3.75? She gave me back a few too many coins...oh well. Good for me. Error in my favor. Kayla tossed the straw out of the drink and to the side. I doubt I'll need it for such a small drink. When she took a larger than necessary first sip, she soon realized her mistake. Agh, there's booze in here! Kayla had one or two prior experiences with alcohol, while attending a couple of beach parties in high school that one of the girls was able to sneak some Baccardi Breezers too. There was no room for partaking of it in university, not if she wanted to keep up with Cameron. But this tasted nothing like the Island Pineapple drinks she had sips of before. Not bad though. The ginger saves whatever else is in it. She took another smaller sip and set the drink down. Well if I'm here, I might as well see what they have for food at this time. Hopefully similar to the soups and such. Spotting a menu on a nearby table, Kayla snagged it and started looking through to try and find something to chow down on.

 

[CounterAttack]

"Hey! Um... can I just get a Coke, thanks? Plenty of ice please."

"Oh, hey, Adam. Yeesh, look at you. You look like you've got a dozen colds at once," Lisette joked upon catching sight of the apparently tired student. "One second..." She promptly tossed a scoop of ice cubes into a glass, filled it and slid it over to him, taking the offered pair of dollar bills in exchange. As she did so, she caught sight of a guy at one of the tables, waving at her. She hurried over to investigate.

"Ah, 'scuse me, miss? I didn't ask for ice in this..."

"Sorry, sir, I'll make you a new one," Lisette automatically answered, taking the glass and returning it to the bar. Odd... I didn't put ice in that. Haven't had any requests for ice tonight, except Adam's drink. She set it aside and made a fresh drink for the complainer, making sure to double-check her process for doing so. No ice. Good. Giving Kayla a wave of hello on her way past, she returned to the customer's table with the fresh drink. "Here you go. Sorry about that. Next one's on the house," she offered.

"Cheers," was all she got in response before the man resumed conversation with his friend at the table. Lisette returned to the bar to examine the drink with ice in it. There hadn't been ice in the glass when she was mixing... and there weren't even cubes in it. Just a chunk, uneven and irregular. It definitely wouldn't have come from the freezer.

"This isn't right..." she mused, eyebrows furrowed. A small part of her mind was paying a bit of attention to Kayla, who had just opened a menu as well as tending to her drink.

Lisette fished the chunk of ice out of the glass with a spare spoon and examined it a bit closer. It had the same greenish-yellow colouring as the cocktail she'd shaken up. Bizarre. How did that happen? It clearly wasn't an ice cube. Experimentally, she sniffed it. It smelled the same as the drink, though that was to be expected since it had just come out of the glass. The obvious solution was to turf it into the sink where it would melt, but Lisette wanted to get to the bottom of this.

She poked it with a finger, and the chunk's colour changed. Instead of being the same shade as the drink, it became the clear colour of frozen water. The entwined scents of alcohol and juice were gone. What the hell was going on? Lisette closed her eyes, shook her head, and reopened them. She wanted this weird phenomenon to make some sort of sense, something she recognised.

The chunk of ice changed form before her eyes. The irregular shape morphed, ripples crossing its surface, and the ice reshaped itself into a perfect sphere two inches in diameter - still with its semi-clear colouration - rocking back and forth in its spoon.

Lisette sat down.

 

[Pm0n3y]

Knock knock! A noticeable rapping came from the house's entrance. Loud enough for Dominic to hear from his bathroom in his room. "Dang, here already?" In the middle of a thorough teeth brushing, he got a good look at himself in the mirror, and realized that he still hadn't had anything on. He had to agree with himself, the hardest parts of his mornings were usually finding something to wear. Barefoot and bare chested, Dom donned the nearest robe before advancing towards the front of the house. The door swung open, and with shifty eyes and a frantic free hand, Dominic quickly gestured for Chris to enter, poking his head out after her. "No cameras..." He thought in relief before quickly closing the door.

"Ah, was I too quick to come over? Guess I was walking quicker than I thought." Chris said, nervously giggling as she scratched the back of her head. "I can find something to do while you get fully dressed." "You were fine, actually, it was just...you know how paparazzi are. Open the door with just a robe on, and the tabloids blow up with fanfiction-shipping escapades." He replied, leading her further into the house, tussling his still damp hair. "WHO WAS AT THE DOOR??" Maria called out from her bedroom. "It was Chris, ma-" Before Dom could answer, the two bumped into the mother in the living room.

"Heeyyy Chriiiis~! Are you going with us to the museum-Dom! Why aren't you dressed?! We're leaving in five minutes!" Her voice transited from bubbly to urgent as she looked between the two teens. She began pushing him back towards his room, glancing back towards the budding, bewildered artist. "Make yourself comfortable in the the living room, we'll be all set to go in a few minutes~!" She reverted to her upbeat, excited tone just for the girl.

Chris couldn't help but giggle at the change in Maria's voice when she looked between the two of them. She was sometimes strict towards Dominic from what Chris had seen, but she knew it was never in a negative way. "Okay. I'll wait patiently while you do that~" Having spent time with Dom these past days had helped Chris with getting her musing voice back quicker than it probably would have otherwise been.

[hr]

The ride to O'Malley Memorial Elementary School was about as brief as the bus ride that followed right after. As Maria's gaggle of children (including Christine and Dominic) piled out of the bus, they were greeted by one of the museum's curators. She began leading the group into the expanse establishment, starting with an introduction on the museum's beginnings. Maria gestured for the two to stay at the back of the crowd, to make sure none of the youngsters decided to roam. The group entered one of the first exhibits, one of your usual pieces on dinosaurs and prehistoric times.

As the guide droned on about Stegosauruses, Dom leaned in a bit towards his fellow chaperone. "I meant to ask you earlier if you had your doodle pad on you. There's a whole bunch of stuff in here that you could probably draaaaw inspiration from, heh." He asked lightly, catching himself on his own spontaneous pun. Chris giggled lightly at Dom's hastily placed play on words. "That was a terrible pun." she said back to him, leaning towards him as well. Then she realized she hadn't brought her sketchbook and pencil with her. "Oh, darn it. I didn't bring it with me. Ugh, oh well. I'll just have to remember to try and draw if I get inspiration while we're here." Chris had her arm wrapped around Dom's, mostly just to stay close to him.

He chuckled at little harder at the girl's reply, sighing in comfort as her arms entwined with his. As the group moved on to another exhibit, he made notice at how relatively calm everything was, the outing definitely serving as a calming nerve relaxer. "Y'know, i'm glad I decided to go along with this. With all the stress inducing that've been going down this week, it's cool that we can get to do something a little unwinding." He said to the girl. "I really hope the school put some sort of postponement on our grad projects though, i've done absolutely no work on it prior to the accident."

 

[Fappy]

It's not everyday that you get to meet the President.

Noel assumed that had been the prevailing thought shared by the victims of the "genobomb", but to her it was a "good to see you again."

Her father had been more than a handful about the whole thing and wanted to make sure they presented themselves as best they could. The President was technically his boss after all. It was an honor to have the President go out of his way to ensure your continued existence, but if she was to be honest with herself--and she'd been doing that a lot lately--she couldn't be bothered with it.

Between the journalists, the friends from school and now, the President of all people... Noel would normally be perfectly content in such a hectic environment. But the boy. The boy's face kept her awake at night. She couldn't even talk to her sister about him...

At least her father kept the FBI at bay.

*****************************************************************************************************************************************************

Noel had been in bed for the better part of the day. Tossing and turning throughout the night, she only got up to eat lunch before returning to her bedroom. She had been staying at her family's home since the attack as her father wanted her close by. It didn't really matter where she was however, she would shut herself in regardless.

It was very unlike her. Against her very nature, in fact. That idea bothered her and perpetuated a viscous cycle of personal disappointment and grief. It was 5:00 pm now and she hadn't done a single thing all day. Frustrated with herself, she got to her feet, put on a light jacket and flip flops and walked out the door only half-presentable.

There was nothing a few shots couldn't fix.

****************************************************************************************************************************************************

The Festival wasn't likely very busy at this hour, which is why it was the ideal location for her to sink into the shadows and forget her problems. As she approached the front door her phone went off.

It's probably just spam...

Against her better judgement she went ahead and pulled her phone out of her purse anyway. Just as she swiped her thumb to unlock her phone it began to spark violently, forcing her to drop it to the ground. After shaking off her momentary shock she noticed the phone sitting on the pavement... in flames, "What the fu---"

In her other hand, her purse had also been set alight, "HOLY SHIT!" She screamed as she beat her purse against the ground in an attempt to quell the flames. Unfortunately it seemed her efforts had only made the fire more potent. She felt the heat intensifying around her hands and dropped the purse instinctively. Standing there helplessly, she watched her possessions burn.

And that's when she felt it. An intense heat coursing through her entire body. She looked down upon her hands to see a flame dancing in her conjoined palms.

Noel hit the ground hard. Whether it was from the shock of seeing what she had seen or from mental fatigue, her legs grew weak and her head light. She had fainted, falling backwards through the front door of The Festival.

She hadn't even had her first shot yet.

 

[Lambi]

Christine nodded in agreement. "Yeah, this is pretty nice. I haven't been able to draw at all while I'm at home. Keep thinking back to the incident and I don't want to draw about that." She looked a bit down as they were walking because of course when she mentioned the incident, she started to think about it. But she shook her head a little to throw those thoughts away. Once she did and her head was a bit clearer, she noticed that her feet were a bit dirty. "Really? And I took shower this morning and everything. It's not like I walked over particularly dusty areas on the way to your house." she said to Dominic after she looked back up from her feet. As she noticed this, the class had slowed down in another exhibit, this one being a large room showcasing the warriors and wars that spanned through time and countries.

"That's definitely weird..." Dom quaintly replied as the curator announced that the exhibit was fairly hands-on and announced some free roam time. "Seems a little morbid for five year olds, but whatever." As the youngsters began to disperse, Dom and Chris did a little meandering of their own, checking out the uniforms and such on display. However, they began to slow down a bit, as a headache began coursing through Dominic's cranium. "Another one of these..." As he thought of it, the pain doubled in intensity, showing clearly on Dom's face. "Gggugh..." He groaned as his gait halted, clutching at his bandage brandished forehead.

"Are you alright? What's wrong?" Chris asked Dom when she saw the look on his face. It had something to do with his head, it seemed, as she saw him reach for his head. "It might be good for you to sit down." Chris attempted to take Dom towards some nearby seats. "N-no, i'm good...I'm-nnggh-" The searing migraine intensified, hitting him with a blinding blast of disorientation. His eyes began to water and tear as he fought to keep them open. The world around him spun uncontrollably as he struggled to stand. He stumbled to his knees, almost bringing Christine with him. "Aagh..." His mouth hung agape as he quietly groaned, managing to put both hands to his head. "It's never been this bad before! What's going on?!"

But, just like that, the headache ended. The loud, blaring sensation that rung through his ears and head dissipated. The last of his tears rolled down his face as his eyes blinked open. "Huh..? Wha...I..." Chris wasn't sure what else she could do, so she held her arms around Dom's head to at least try and help lessen the pain. Whether it worked or not, she wasn't sure, but after a little bit, he seemed to be feeling better. She let go of his head with her arms and rubbed it a little with her hand. "Do you feel better now? What was that, anyway?"

"Headache. I've been having them on and off since the concussion..." He answered, taking hold of a info plaque as he used it to hoist himself to his feet (with Chris' assistance, of course). His voice drifted as his gaze found itself locked on the glass display the plaque was representing. Ahead of him, was a mannequin dressed in the armor of a Japanese samurai. He looked down, and saw a couple of sheathed swords at the mannequin's feet, sorted by ascending size on some sort of stand. "The Japanese swords, katana...and wakizashi..." He read the words off of the plaque. Or, at least he thought he did.

 

[NeoAC]

The drink disappeared quickly. Kayla didn't even realize it until it was only the watery remains of the ice cubes hitting her mouth. Wow. That was good, but it was gone way too fast. Guess that's how they make their money. Kayla picked up her glass and headed back to the bar, intent on getting another one as well as a bit of food.

As other patrons stood before her, she grabbed a nearby menu and perused it looking for something that wouldn't reek of grease and forced social interactions. Ugh, this stuff doesn't even look appetizing. Is there any place that can serve something decent? ... At least the spinach dip looks somewhat palatable. I guess I can try that.

"Refill?"

Kayla didn't expect the attention on her so quickly. "Um, yes. I'd also like an order of spinach dip, please."

"Sure thing," the woman took her glass and went to refill her beverage. Kayla went into the purse to dig out some money. Going to have to unload some of this change. As she waited, she spotted Lisette in the corner of the bar doing...something with a spoon. That girl is weird...

"Here you go, hun. Going to be $12.75 with the food."

"Of course." Kayla reached in and fished out the required bills and coins. "Here you go, thank you." She grabbed her drink and went to return to her table.

"Hold on there, short stuff," the bartender called out, requesting Kayla come back to the bar. "You're still a few quarters off here."

"What? No, you must be wrong. It's with the bills."

"No they aren't. Come on, I know you aren't going to tip me but at least give me the right amount."

Kayla sighed and put her drink back down on the bar. "Look, I-" She cut herself off once she saw her hand. The quarters were still there, attached to her hand, almost as if they were glued there. Eww, what the...Ugh, some drink must have gotten on them. She plucked the coins off of her palm and tried to put them on the bar, but they weren't coming off, now clinging to her fingertips. "What the hell? What is on these coins?"

The bartender took them off her hand. "Smartass, there's nothing on here."

"I'm sorry, here," Kayla took another couple of dollar bills out of her purse and handed them to the bartender. "I don't know what happened."

"Eh, got the right amount. That's the main thing. I'll be over with your dip when it's ready."

Kayla picked up her drink and slowly retreated to her table. What was that? Why couldn't I give her the money? I'm not becoming my dad am I? No I don't think even he's that cheap. But why were they sticking to me and not to her? She sat down and was still somewhat lost in thought when a loud noise burst through the mood music. Ugh, frat boys. As she assumed there would be some drunk faux-Greeks in momentarily, she went back to her main problem, on the deal with those quarters.

 

[CounterAttack]

The unconscious Noel crashing through the door to The Festival caused a few heads to turn. "What the? You alright there, miss?"

"She get punched out or something? The fuck happened?"

"Oh, shit, there's a fire!" One guy sitting at a table, presumably the sober driver in his group of friends, hurried out and emptied his glass of water onto the burning purse and phone. It killed the flames, though there was still some damage to everything that had been set on fire. Her phone was in need of a complete replacement. The guy immediately turned his attention to the unconscious girl in the doorway. A small crowd had started to form, some of them murmuring to themselves. "The hell? That's some hard head she's got..."

"No way. You can't put a dent that big in the floor just by falling on it. Can you?" Sure enough, there was a rather large indentation in the floor where Noel's head had landed.

"Hang on a minute. I know that girl, saw her on TV a while back with the President and that senator dude." Phones began to appear in hands, presumably for the taking of photos.

"Guys! Put the phones away. There's no need for that. Go back to your drinks." Roxy was on the scene quickly, a first-aid kit in one hand. "Here, let's get her outside. Less people staring." Each of them took one of Noel's arms, placing them around their respective shoulders, and lifted her out of the doorway and a short distance away from the entrance to the bar. Soon Roxy poked her head back into The Festival. "Lizzy!" she called over to the bar.

Lisette, however, had completely missed what was going on. She'd just been sitting there, staring at the ice sphere in her hands. It didn't feel cold to the touch, and it wasn't melting at all. It could almost be made of glass. How... how did... I don't understand. This can't have come from the ice bin. And why isn't it cold? Ice should be cold. Her back began to itch for some reason. There was an odd sensation around her shoulder blades -

"LISETTE!" The shout was loud enough to jar the blonde girl out of her reverie. She looked over, slightly spooked. Roxy was looking at her as if Lisette had been in some far-off place. She probably had. "Large glass of water. This chick is gonna need it."

"Right. Sorry. Will do." Lisette quickly did as she was told, bringing the tall glass over. She caught sight of the girl propped up in a sitting position. Her hair, slightly curled at the tips, was familiar... "Noel?"

"You know her?"

"Yeah, we met... a while ago." Lisette wasn't sure if she should have said, 'after the Goldmar attack.' That would have raised eyebrows on everyone who heard it.

"Alright. You take over here, I'll get back inside." Roxy pressed the first-aid kit into Lisette's free hand and dashed back into the bar. Lisette knew a little bit of first aid thanks to some on-the-job training, but had almost no idea of what to do here. For now, though, she simply knelt beside Noel and the guy who had helped her out, setting the glass down before she opened the first-aid kit in case there was something inside that could help. An ice-pack, maybe.