The Super Hero RP Deluxe! (Closed, Started)

[IFS]

Tom

"Sorry, bro, it's just not in the script."

Tom shook his head "Then your script needs an editor," he said, turning and leaving the room.

It seemed there was no talking with Tim, or no persuading him at least, which made Tom quite sad. I need to eat something, watch a good movie. That'll make me feel better. Whatever Tim said he knew that his brother couldn't be all bad, he just needed to figure out why he was so opposed to using his abilities for good. I suppose the way things are going I'll at least get a few chances to beat some sense into him...

Sighing he made his way to the kitchen and began scrounging about for something to eat, or something to make then eat. Preferably something unhealthy.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Tess

"Well, there are a lot of things I can tell you. Keep your suit clean, at least bring a second pair of underwear, never eat spicy curry before going on patrol...but the only thing I can tell you that matters is remember: You live for the people. Not for the fame or reward...it's nice when it happens, but don't expect it. And remember, criminals are people. Villains are people. Heck even Psyclone is a person...just a person with mistakes I bet. Try to go easy on them if you can...but sadly, they might not go easy on you."

So like a hero, she thought, though she made the act of hanging on his every word nodding in agreement with his statements.

"I'm assembling a group. Give me a call sometime."

"This is..." she said, something Mina will want to hear about, "an honor."

She took the communicator, examining it briefly before pocketing it. A hero team, as a member I could disgrace the whole group following Mina's plan. This is excellent. She didn't have to hide her delighted expression, merely work to keep the maliciousness out of her smile and eyes.

"I'll be sure to give you a call," she said, "I'd love to be part of a team. Right now though it looks like things are well in hand, so I think I'll be off, work never stops eh?"

With that she turned and started to walk away, turning over the comm in her mind. Need to be sure I call from a safe place. My apartment probably. Can't have anyone here overhear me reporting.

Spoiler: OOC

Hiei let me know if you want to do a collab for the call to Mina, otherwise I'll have Tess call in in my next post.

 

[IFS]

Tess carefully searched her apartment, making certain things were in order before she made the call. She didn't like to be paranoid but something like this had her both on edge and a little excited.

"Mina, I've got a report," she said as soon as the phone was picked up.

Mina was reading a report on her recent acquisitions when her "personal" phone began to ring. Looking at the number, she knew it was Tess.

"Tess-" she said as she answered. She heard Tess say she had a report. "On the events at the festival I assume?" she asked, mostly as a courtesy. She doubted it would be anything but.

"Yes, there's been an interesting development," she said "Crick has offered me the chance to join him, he's forming a team."

Mina raised an eyebrow at that. They were forming a team? Already? She hadn't even begun to subtlety push for the creation of a team yet. the heroes were putting her plan into place by their own power; it was perfect.

"That is interesting." she said, her excitement audible. "I trust you've taken them up on the offer?"

"Of course, it's easy to see the potential," she said with a smirk.

"Good... this is excellent news. Once I've got the rest of my plan in place, I'll let you know when to start Phase 2." she said, staying on target. "It looks like you're going to be paid a lot earlier than expected. Excellent work."

"Glad to hear it, any further instructions?" she asked "if you can get me a bug I could have you listen in on the 'team communicators'."

"hm..." she said, thinking about it. "I'll arrange for you to get a bug, but I want you to hold off from using it. I don't want to leave any evidence that there might be a traitor among them. For now, just use your eyes, ears, and good sense. Otherwise, use the bug at your discretion and let me know when you use it."

"Of course," she said "I'll keep you updated."

Spoiler: OOC

Mina's dialogue is in red, Tess' is plain.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The Next Day

Tess

Tess groaned as she rolled out of bed, something about the deal with Mina worried her. Maybe it was how casually she had offed that guard, always the worry that when she says 'get paid' she means 'get killed' that's an unavoidable danger I suppose. She wasn't about to let herself feel sorry for Crick and whoever else was on his team though, they should be more careful about recruiting, I bet that unicorn lady is going to be there, and that blobby idiot.

That thought put a bit of a smirk back on her face though and she set about making herself something to eat. What time is it anyways? Hope I didn't sleep in too much, who knows what nonsense is going to happen today.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Tom

Tom was out the door pretty quickly, he didn't particularly want to stay around the apartment right now, too much to think about in there. Besides he was certain there was a lot of work to be done reporting on the disaster at the festival, his college paper would certainly appreciate a firsthand account, maybe he could write it up during his spare time at work.

Man hope I'm not too busy today, things should calm down after that villain went away but even so... Gah just need to focus on work.

______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

George

George found himself pacing in the hall outside of Tom's room, Tom was probably already gone to work or something but maybe he wasn't. He just needed to knock on the door, he knew that Tom had been at the festival, he had to ask if he had seen him there. The gap in his memory was really starting to bother him, especially given what he'd heard had happened there after the fact.

Did I get hit on the head? Just come down with something? Man I don't want to think about this, maybe I should just go see a doctor. It's not the first time something like this has happened so maybe I should just stop worrying... Yeah yeah, I can forget about this, but I should still see if he saw me there first.

This thought in mind he turned and knocked on the door, waiting nervously for a response.

 

[DarkRawen]

Frederick Rolls

Frederick had somehow managed to avoid being yelled at by Sofia this time. As a matter of fact, she didn't seem to be aware of what had happened with the anti-hero. Then again, she did seem to have quite the ability to ignore everything around her. Figuring that Theodore probably had to recover quite a bit from his injuries, he sent him a message in the morning rather than the same evening.

"Hey, are you fine? It certainly got close yesterday. Next time, you might want to just keep the interview to over phone, there's a lot less chance of getting stabbed that way. Hope you make a speedy recovery, you fool, and let me know if you're up for some drinks in a couple of days.

-Frederick"

He figured that the other would get the sarcasm, it wasn't as if Frederick hid that side of his any more than he hid his fondness for bow-ties. Speaking of which, since the festival had been cancelled, he had to be in court today, in a case he had no idea what was.

As long as it's not the arraignment for that Psyclone... No, that should be fine.

He knew that it would happen quite quickly, they couldn't let Psyclone out, after all, and there was a limit to how long you could hold someone before formally informing them of what they had been accused off, but likely they would wait until they knew of a way to do that without risking the lives of everyone in the courtroom. Besides, with the inability that the police seemed to have when it came to keeping slightly super-powered people locked up, how long would it be before someone like Psyclone escaped?

That's why I prefer to go for the not powered crime. Bring sufficient proof, and they are locked up.

In theory, anyways. The police sometimes let some of those escape too.

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Tim Merridy

Tom had acted awfully distant ever since they had gotten back to the apartment. He supposed it wasn't exactly a surprise, but it was annoying, he had been forced to make something for himself in the evening when he realized that Tom wasn't going to, and since it was hard to move, that had kind of not been possible. Having uncovered a bag of chips, however, he had at least not starved.

This morning, however, it was harder to deal with his hunger. He supposed he could go outside and try to find a nearby fast-food restaurant open in the morning, but walking around was painful enough. Tom was elsewhere too, and, to be honest, Tim doubted the other would even answer if he sent a message asking for food. Still, he did so, if not for breakfast, then for dinner, and was waiting for a reply when there was knocking on the door.

That's not Tom, is it?

No, Tim hadn't heard the other lock the door, and even if he had, it couldn't possibly be that inconvenient. Holding his breath as he stood up, Tim moved over to the door, slowly, then opened it. Only after he had, he realized that if this was some sort of burglar, he would be completely unable to act against them. Then again, he was fairly sure a burglar wouldn't knock. Seeing that it was Tom's friend from a week ago, something like George, if he remembered correctly, he grinned.

"If you're a burglar you're a horrible one," he joked. "Seriously though, this is the second time you've just missed Tom, and met me instead, it must be destiny," another joke, spoken as Tim wondered if begging would make the other go get him a meal.

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Sirius Hamilton

Sirius was rather worried about what had happened to Ash. Well, worried was an odd term for him to use, not exactly something he could experience, but it bothered him a little. Enough to cause him to knock on her door, only to get no reaction whatsoever. He knocked again, but it seemed she was not there, nor had she been for a while.

What happened?

He thought to himself, before going back to his apartment to prepare himself for the day. It wasn't a particularly important day, not any more than any other, but he had a mind to go check out what the university was like. Well, that could wait for a bit, first of all he had something he wanted to sketch out, one of the buildings he had spotted from walking home from the ruined festival, a rather expensive hotel that seemed to have been built out of pure gold and everything that was bright and shiny. He knew it wasn't gold, but still, rather interesting to draw.

Putting a soft brown sweater on, Sirius examined the bandaged wound in the mirror. Upon having recognized him, one of the health personnel had taped a piece of band-aid over it, before covering the whole thing with a bandage, telling him not to take it off in a week or so. Confused as to how he would shower, Sirius had just nodded, he wasn't sure if she was speaking to him like one would a child or not, but it wasn't exactly new to him either way.

With the new art supplies -the bag had stayed hidden behind the speakers, so they were still usable- he went to this hotel, before sketching it. One of the guards there raised an eyebrow, but left him be, probably because he wasn't making a mess or racket.

 

[TheNaut131]

Terry

Terry finished wiring the last of the power cables together and pulled himself out from under the subway car. Everything was in check. Security cameras and alarms connected, sapping power from the third rail, back up generators were place, the subway cars were rather comfortable command stations and lounges. He still had to clean out an organize a few of the old maintenance rooms, but so far he'd worked out the placing of a dojo, and a few other rooms. One being a storage room, for his personal "project".

"Well, it's not a watchtower or a hall of justice, but it'll have to do for now."

The Crick hopped out of the old abandoned subway line, checking his communicator. Loveless had sent him the message after the Psyclone-festival-incident. The Crick needed to speak with him too, work out the whole communicator situation. Loveless could only send out messages, not receive them. Luckily, he thought he'd found a solution to that. He was on his way to meet Loveless and hear what was up.

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Gerald

Psyclone sat in the sell, staring at his gas mask across from him on the table. He looked down at his handcuffed hands before turning his head slowly over at the mirror across the wall. He knew there cops and detectives behind the window, watching and talk. Probably wondering what unlucky lawyer would take up his case. Gerald grinned at the window.

He'd figured out a few things while he sat there. He was of the payroll and his former employers weren't coming for him. Fair enough, he wasn't getting bailed. Given yesterdays disaster, he probably hadn't killed anyone. No one really knew any of his former crimes, or at least anyone willing to come forward. His life was seemingly gone, his neighborhood renovated and no missing child report ever filled out. Psyclone was villain, but Gerald was a ghost.

Of course, his earlier damage with the tornado and the city might be enough to put him behind bars but he was dissapointed. He was wishing he could've gone out with a bigger bang. They wouldn't be able to hold him, not for long, but so far he'd agreed to play fair. Prison was something new. Something to look forward to.

He stared at a screw on brace keeping him handcuffed to the table.

 

[Tortilla the Hun]

[HEADING=3]Dr. Schwertner[/HEADING]

After the events at the fairgrounds, Vinzenz found himself in a bit of a predicament. He had a generator that had no power and no way to transfer the energy back from the super magnet efficiently. He stared thoughtfully at the device sitting on the workbench, wondering how he could put it to use. At the very least, he had a less strenuous means of moving parts and machinery. As for the matter of finding a new supply of power, surely there was some means of securing a power line nearby. He stepped out onto the wharf and looked over the abandoned freight machinery. They loaders and lifts evidently hadn't been used in years, and while it was unlikely they'd still be operational having been idle for so long, the doctor doubted that section of the harbor had been stripped of its electrical systems. Restoring power would simply be a matter of finding the source and flipping a switch.

"Vell...zis should be an interesting project," he thought aloud. He hurriedly strode towards one of the power boxes of the wharf to look for any indicators as to where its source of power may be. Sure enough, there was a marker painted below the breakers' housing. He figured there would be more markers just like it, all of them leading to some point of access. After some snooping, he came across a manhole cover a couple warehouses over. He looked around for any prying eyes, and though it was in broad daylight he was in an abandoned wharf. His eyes hesitantly returned to the manhole and he sighed with no small amount of reluctance. "I suppose 'interesting' does not mean it vill not be accompanied by awful smells."

 

[Lunar Templar]

Karen

this post brought to you as a colab by TheNaut131 and myself

He'd seen her on the television, new reporters beginning to connect the dots to who she was while Terry's description of her fighting style as well as the limited video of her fighting confirmed it. It was definitely Leviathan alright. A part of him always felt like she was alive, despite the guilt him and his wife felt over choosing to help Mighty Guy against his own foes vs whatever horrible eldritch evil Leviathan had gone off to fight. Or was it something demonic? He couldn't remember. Mockingjay never could get a hold of what was what, and always felt uncomfortable when dealing with "magic" or anything arcane in origin.

But she was one of those things, Mockingjay supposed, and she was one of his closest allies. He was glad she was alright after all these years. Mockingjay descended onto the rooftop, a gentle, yet low and heavy whompwhompwhompwhomp moving through the air as Mockingjay lowered himself with soundwaves.

He grinned at Leviathan, shifting slightly in the purple overcoat, adjusting his white tie, his fedora, and his mask covering the upper half of his face. His costume was old school, older than the era they'd actually been fighting in. Detective X gave him the idea. Detective X...he was gonna have to bring him up to Karen as well.

He walked over to Leviathan and did the simplest thing he could, he held his hand out to Levithan to shake hers."Long time no see, Leviathan. Hope you've been well."

Karen had spent the rest of the day relaxing after the indecent at the festival, for the most part, she did go out on patrol that night but it was shorter then usual and just packed it in early.

The next morning was quiet as well, usually was after a big fight like that, so she enjoyed the down time for the short time she knew it'd last. early afternoon however brought a surprise.

As she was taking the trash out she'd heard a 'whomping' sound. she ignored it at first. She was hardly the only winged one in town after all, then it got closer and she started looking for the source, finding it in time to see it landing on the roof of the house. naturally Karen was up and after the figure, who seemed to be waiting for her.

He looked like he'd stepped off some film noir movie set, and approached her hand out stretched for a shake.

"Long time no see, Leviathan. Hope you've been well." Karen was naturally, surprised to hear that name again, more so the voice. Karen, didn't shake his hand, instead she just grabbed him and hugged him "Hey MJ" she said before letting go of him "Yeah, It has, sorry about not coming by to visit. Been meaning to." Karen said, happy to see one of the 'old gang' again.

Mockingjay was slightly surprised by the sudden hug, but embraced her back. He could hear heartbeat speed up slightly, excited.

"Hey MJ" she said before letting go of him "Yeah, It has, sorry about not coming by to visit. Been meaning to." "It's alright," he said, remembering her voice. He'd missed it, the texture, the way certain things rolled off her tongue. He heard the world differently, and Leviathan had always been a good "different."

"My sons lost their minds when they realized we were superheroes, if they new most of their uncles, aunties, and friends of the family were also supers? They'd lose it!" He chuckled slightly, shaking his head.

"Then again...you've already met one of them." Giving Leviathan a sly look. "Mind if I come in?"

Karen chuckled "Wish I could a been there for that" she said as she opened the door for him and let him in. "Tony and Annabelle are at the doctors right now, so we got the place to our selves for now." she said as she lead him to the living room. "So which of your boys took over the 'family business' as it where?" Karen then had a look cross her face like she remembered something "And how is Sandra? You guys still together?" Karen asked, curious to know how they'd been doing since she 'left'.

"Are we still together? Levi, I'm rather hurt," He said jokingly. "Though I do remember there being some sort of bet on how long we'd last together when we started dating..." He took a seat on the couch.

"Anyway, my oldest son, turns 26 this year. Hes currently on some college internship around the world. He's into photography. Kids powerful, got his mom's strength and my sound manipulation but didn't really take to fighting crime. Yet funny enough, wherever he goes with his camera, a figure doing amazing feats tends to follow. Either stopping arms dealers, saving sinking ships, ecetera. He swears it isn't him." Mockingjay slapped his knee and laughed.

"On the other hand, our youngest took to being a hero quick. Not gonna lie, I was worried about him, but he's come a long way these last few years. You know him as, "The Crick."

He reached into his pocket and handed her a communicator. "And he's making an interesting offer. He wants to start his own team, and I trust in his judgement, but I'd feel a lot safer if you hopped on board."

Karen smiled when she heard the two of them where still together, it was tough for people like them to find such stability and happiness, so she was glad that they did.

Karen listened as Jason talked about his sons, and laughed a long with him at the antics of his oldest. "Oh? Crick is your son?" She said with a tone of 'shoulda known' as she took the communicator. "A team huh." one the one hand she wasn't sure she really wanted to be on a 'team' just yet, but then, she felt the same way when she joined up with Tony and then the first time, Karen smirked "I'll give him a call when Tony and Annabelle get back." Karen said as she put the device in her pocket. "Assuming that is, he'll have me on his team."

"I'm sure he will..." Mockingjay frowne slightly."But that's sorta what I'm afraid of," he said, leaning in slightly.

"Remember Detective X? Oliver Bass...guy was paranoid, a conspiracy nut, but the man was essentially a genius and overall a pretty good guy. Yet he did something, that uh, scared us-well, before we understood why he'd done it."
"So, back in the early, days, when we were all starting out, I made a bet. A rather dangerous bet. I-I bet he couldn't figure out my secret identity in week. I knew that given enough time he probably could, but a month? No way in hell."

Jason took a deep sigh, feeling his age as he leaned back and rubbed his eyes. "He...he figured out not just my identity, but ALL of our secret identities in a matter of hours. Not just that, our weakness, aliases, social security number you name it. He even had some things on you, things I still don't really understand..."

"Detective X, Oliver, was our friend. He thought differently from the rest of us and I could never read him..., but that day, he scared me. Was he being friendly, joking around in the only way he knew how. Or did he genuinely believe someone had to have dirt on us superhumans, someone to keep us in line? I don't really like thinking about it...all I know is that he saved my life more times than I care to admit."

Mockingjay walked over and put his hand on Leviathan's shoulder. "But what if someone like Detective X joins their team and...and they aren't as good as Oliver was? If they have their own intentions, their own agenda...my son wouldn't see it, or maybe he wouldn't want to, I don't know...all I know is I want you to keep protecting this city, keep an eye on this team. And keep an eye on my son...please."

Karen frowned a little when Jason mentioned Oliver. He was a decent enough guy around her but she always found him kinda creepy in a way. Hearing he'd snooped around her back ground, made kinda wanna punch him now. Still, Jason had a point, if some one like Oliver, only with more harmful intent dug up that kinda dirt on this new generation of hero, it could be a disaster. "Of course I will. You'd hardly need to ask me that. Not because just because he's your son, but." Karen paused a moment, at this point, she knew she wouldn't be able to keep her 'not dead secret any longer anyway. "Because its time I started to do for this new generation, what you, and Tony did for me when I first transferred over from fighting monsters and evil spirits to people." she said, referring to the mentor-ship she'd gotten from them.

"Eh, don't mention it. You fought things my nightmares couldn't dream up, teaching you to fight guys in ski masks and not kill them wasn't too hard."

Mockingjay pulled her in for a quick hug. "Sandra would've loved to see you again. I'll send her your regards."

Karen smiled and hugged him back. "I'll be sure to swing by later, and maybe bring Tony if he's up for it." She said as the hug broke "we can sit around, tell story's about the old days, and I'm sure you and Sandra will wanna know why I'm not dead." Karen said.

 

[hiei82]

Dr. Loveless​

Theodore was a little surprised when he saw Fredrick's text. Not because he didn't think Fredrick wouldn't text him or that he wouldn't be concerned when a friend was in the hospital, but because he'd assumed the man would be buried in work after the events of the festival. He knew how everyone even tangentially related to the the legal system tended to find themselves in a tsunami of paperwork - from warrants to legal proceedings, to processing minor crimes more quickly - whenever a super-villain was captured in the hopes of getting the individual moved to a the "Super" super-max before the inevitable jailbreaks started. Regardless, Theodore sent back a text in reply.

"And miss out on getting the closeup? You really don't know me at all! (jk). I look forward to some delicious - and real - coffee.

-T. Loveless"

After that, Loveless took a nap for the first time in years. The doctors would approve.

*several hours later*


Loveless awoke to The Crick's arrival. There was something about an electromechanical suit with that much tech in it that just shocked his powers awake. It was like they wanted to talk or something. "Glad to see you're still up and running there Tinman." Loveless said, a wiry smile on his face.

Spoiler: OOC

@Naut: Want to do a collab post for the conversation or just do it in the thread?

 

[IFS]

Tess

It wasn't long before Tess felt settled in for the day, there wasn't a whole lot to accomplish after all so she found herself on patrol again. The most boring part of heroing, though I suppose I only do this because I'm being paid to be a hero. For now at least. Maybe I should give the Crick a call already, find out more about that team...

Looking around to make sure she was properly secluded in the alleyway she pulled out the communicator and began the call. I don't see anyone around, and honestly I've already leaked the info to the most dangerous person who could have it, so what's the harm?

"Hey Crick," she said, speaking in a hushed, conspiratorial voice "I said I'd call about the team and so I am, what do you need me to do?"

Lets just hope he doesn't want to put me through any sort of test to prove my loyalty, that would be annoying. Also sounds more like something that Psycho would attempt if he made a villain team.
_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

George

"Seriously though, this is the second time you've just missed Tom, and met me instead, it must be destiny,"

"Ha, I guess so," George said nervously "Uh, by chance were you at the festival yesterday?"

If Tom was maybe he brought Tim with too, he looks injured so maybe he got hurt in all the chaos... That would be kinda awful, hope I'm not reminding him of what happened or anything.

"I'm asking cuz, I think I was there," he said "but uh, I don't remember anything so I was wondering if you could fill me in. I've seen the news reports but I'm kinda hoping someone I know might have seen me there or something..."

This is a stupid idea, what are the chances of him having actually seen me?

 

[TheNaut131]

Terry

"Hey Crick," Coil said, speaking in a hushed, conspiratorial voice "I said I'd call about the team and so I am, what do you need me to do?"

The Crick picked up the message from Coil, seemingly always eager to do what she could. He appreciated it, but didn't really have the time given that Loveless was waiting.

"Right now, just keep doing what you're doing. I need to temporarily shut the communicators down anyway. Get back to you in a bit." He said, hopping down to Loveless.

"Glad to see you're still up and running there Tinman." Loveless said as The Crick landed in front of him and walked over.

"Nice to see you too, Radiohead." The Crick said, grinning behind his mask. "You handled yourself well against Psyclone; I guess you're more of a 'hero' than you think."

The Crick couldn't help but wonder what would happen if Loveless fully utilized his powers and took to the street. What would he even call himself? Sentry? Relay? Then again, Loveless isn't much of a trained fighter and Terry had no way of knowing the full extent of Loveless's powers. Besides, Loveless seemed to be using his powers rather well, especially in terms of what The Crick had planned. He reached into a compartment on his suit and grabbed a small black pager-like device with a series of lights on it.

"So I think I figured out our little relay problem and being unable to receive messages. This device is essentially linked to all the communicators, acting as a simple receiver. The blue light just means the receiver is active, but the rest of lights mean you're receiving input from a communicator. Yellow means something's going down and they want back up. Too many suspects, super human with a nasty power, something they want someone to look at you name it. Audio can be sent through the communicator, but the receiver can't play that sound. You on the other hand can take those signals, and relay the sound to the rest of our communicators, and I'm assuming you can loop it if necessary for a short period of time. The rest of the colors are simpler; green means all clear and that something's been dealt with, while red means a communicator has been damaged or tampered which. In that case, you send a message straight to me. It's not a perfect system but it'll have to do for now."

The Crick held out the device.

"So to sum it all up you of course can transmit to any communicator independently thanks to your power, but for you to receive any our signals, someone with a communicator simply needs to use it. The buttons are labeled essentially the same way on the communicators, so the heroes using them should understand their functions rather easily...well hopefully. Oh and the receiver and communicators only connect when in use, so we shouldn't have to worry about anyone being able to trace them...unless they get their hands on a communicator but something tells me that'd be a challenge given the owners. Plus, thanks to the warnings I have in place, we'll know."

The Crick finally took a breath, a bit too indulged in explaining the newest gadget he'd managed to cook up. It had taken him longer than he'd liked to admit to come up with a solution, but here it was.

"Right now, everything's in standby mode. Originally they were just walky talkies essentially but that way too traceable. So with that out of the way, Loveless, what was it you wanted to talk about it."

 

[DarkRawen]

Frederick Rolls


"And miss out on getting the closeup? You really don't know me at all! (jk). I look forward to some delicious - and real - coffee.

-T. Loveless"

Frederick had to chuckle when he saw the reply. It came when he was in the middle of working through the statements of the people who had lost money with the festival, stands had been broken and tools had been destroyed, and him and the other people there had to help bring together the case. Well, that wasn't entirely true, it wasn't part of his job, but if he didn't help out, it would take longer than if he did. Besides, someone had to control the chaos.

Not to mention, with this I'm no longer a viable option for the trial.

Helping the prosecution building the case was, after all, getting involved with one of the sides. Still, he took a break when he read Theodore's message, arranging the last of the statements and handing them off to one of the prosecutors. They were in an office at the police-station, it was easier to work with the evidence that way. Typing the message, he started walking towards the closest coffee-machine.

"It's cute that you think that'll happen. Either of those. I'll see you then."

-Frederick"

Getting a cup of coffee, he greeted the cops and lawyers there, who were apparently discussing something.

"Oh, Judge Rolls," one of them said. It was a young defence lawyer, Clarkson or something, employed by the state. "Don't you agree that the police should be the ones to interact with the directly with the client when the client is dangerous like this?" Frederick raised an eyebrow.

"Is this about Psyclone?" he asked, though he already felt like he knew the reply. "What's the issue?" One of the cops, whom he hadn't seen before, spoke up.

"The defence team is too cowardly to appoint a lawyer to the guy, and refuses to send someone in to mention that there will be delays while they sort it out." Frederick shrugged.

"And why don't the police do it?"

"It's not our responsibility, we're already risking interacting with the suspect when we're interrogating him." Frederick sighed.

More like you're afraid he'll get upset when you tell him that no one wants to defend him in court even though they're required to by law.

"Give me the folder," Frederick then said. "I'll deal with it. I can't take his case, but at least I'll let him know about the delays." Bringing with him the folder, he quickly read through the main parts, he already knew very well what had happened, after all. After that, he informed the policeman in charge of keeping an eye on the door about what was going on, and while hesitantly so, he was let in. With a somewhat honest smile and a confident attitude, Frederick stepped inside.

"Hello, my name is Frederick Rolls," he started, walking over to the chair, but not sitting down yet. "I'm here to let you know that there's a delay in the process and that a defence lawyer has not been appointed by the state yet. I'm also here to answer any questions you might have relating to the process." With that, he took a seat, not afraid due to his own powers.

"Also, you don't need to worry about anyone listening in. While this isn't an official meeting with your lawyer, you're still entitled to discuss these matters without the detectives writing everything down. There is someone keeping an eye on the room for safety purposes, so I wouldn't recommend trying to harm me, but anything you say while I'm here is between the two of us." With that, he put the folder down. He had gotten rid of the coffee, something told him that going inside a room with someone who could create wind with a cup of hot beverage might not be the best idea.

"Anyways, enough about that. What do you prefer to be called? All we have so far is Psyclone, and I assume that's not your actual name." After getting a reply, Frederick continued.

"So, do you have any question to start off with? Or would you just like me to explain the procedure?"

He hoped he wasn't being too official, it was quite a long time since he'd had a conversation with anyone like this, especially since he never had been a defence lawyer.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tim Merridy

"Ha, I guess so. Uh, by chance were you at the festival yesterday?"

Tim nodded. "Yeah, I was. Well, I was for a while, I got there sort of late, and then..." he lifted hurt arm as high up as he could, cheerfully. "I got sort of hurt. Tom thinks I deserve it, though, he's kinda upset with me because I got involved in it. Speaking of which..." he trailed off, not sure if he did want to ask about the food or not. As he did, George continued, explaining the reason why he was asking.

"I'm asking cuz, I think I was there. But uh, I don't remember anything so I was wondering if you could fill me in. I've seen the news reports but I'm kinda hoping someone I know might have seen me there or something..."

"You don't remember being there?" Tim asked, surprised. He couldn't help but feel sort of... worried, actually, he might not know George all that well, but anyone saying that they didn't remember being somewhere like that couldn't be well. Perhaps the other had gotten hurt when people were fighting?

I don't think I saw him there, though, so I don't think I had anything to do with it.

However, Tom's statement from the day before came back to him, the one about whether he knew what happened to his victims. Frowning, he looked at George, before smiling again, as if trying to make the other feel better.

"You think you might have hit your head, then?" he asked, then gestured towards Tom's couch. "I don't remember seeing you there in particular, but I can tell you what I know. I'd need to be sitting, though, it's getting sort of tiring standing up and I haven't been able to get any breakfast yet, I can't really move or cook with all of these bandages and casts on. But seriously, come in,"

he pretty much ushered the other inside, not giving up until he could at least close the door behind the guy. He himself sat down in the couch, pushing away the sheets he'd been sleeping in and all that, making room for George to sit down.

"What do you remember?" Tim asked, curiously. "So that I know where to start, I mean."

 

[TheNaut131]

Gerald

"So, do you have any question to start off with? Or would you just like me to explain the procedure?"

Psyclone stared at the man for a second before giving him a slight grin. The suit, the way he walked, this guy was personified definition of "chill." Maybe a bit too chill, he thought, noting the way the man moved in his skin. He moved like any other man but something seemed...off, yet strangely familiar.

"Fuck it, I'm good, I think I've seen enough episodes of Law and Order at this point. Besides, it's out of my hands." He raised his hands, a slight gust rising over them, gently moving the dust in the room towards the ceiling slightly. He watched for the man's reaction.

"Don't worry, I won't hurt you...well today, at least. I've got a bit on my mind right now. So I'm wonderin' you have any questions for me Mr.Rolls...hehe rolls...'heads will roll' I quite like that. Personally, I guess you can call me-" He stopped for moment. in thought.

"Mr.Rolls, have you had somethin' taken from you?"

 

[DarkRawen]

Frederick Rolls

"Fuck it, I'm good, I think I've seen enough episodes of Law and Order at this point. Besides, it's out of my hands."

"I don't really think Law and Order would be enough," Frederick replied. He noted the dust, though he didn't have much of a reaction, if the other was trying to startle him, he was not succeeding. "Besides," he grinned. "If watching crime shows was enough to become a lawyer, my law career would have started when I was a child."

"Don't worry, I won't hurt you...well today, at least. I've got a bit on my mind right now. So I'm wonderin' you have any questions for me Mr.Rolls...hehe rolls...'heads will roll' I quite like that."

Well, that's a new one.

He'd been called "Sweet Rolls" before due to his passion for making -and eating- pastry, but never put like that. Then again, he supposed you had to be at least slightly deranged to be a villain.

"Personally, I guess you can call me-"

The other trailed off, though Frederick wasn't sure if. The again, it would've been too easy if Psyclone was willing to give up a name without hesitation.

"Mr.Rolls, have you had somethin' taken from you?"

Frederick hadn't expected that question. A bit of a bitter tone surfaced when he replied.

"Yes."

My life.

"Though I think I got it back. It's... difficult to be sure."

While he was a bit opposed to letting the other know anything about him, it might get Psyclone talking. While he couldn't do anything with the information received, it was commonly assumed -and in his experience, it seemed to be at least partially correct- that one you got someone talking, they were more eager to speak. Then again, Psyclone hadn't exactly been quiet out there.

"Why?" Frederick then asked, expression growing slightly amused. "Is this when you explain why you're here? Confess something heartfelt?" He bit his tongue, he hadn't been able to keep himself from being sarcastic.

"If so, feel free, but my time here is limited, and I assure you, you'd want to know more about how this works. You're... not exactly in the best position, seeing as many people would like people with powers locked up because of what they can do."

 

[TheNaut131]

Gerald

Psyclone grinned at Roll's reaction. Unphased, unimpressed, all were expected, but the test had given him something to work with. It wasn't much to go off of, but it was something to contemplate. Aside from all that, the guy had a sense of humor. He liked that. But his big question veiled something interesting.

"Yes." Frederick replied.

Psyclone could hear the spite in his voice. Struck the slightest of nerves. What was it?

"Though I think I got it back. It's... difficult to be sure."

Interesting...

"Why?" Frederick then asked, expression growing slightly amused. "Is this when you explain why you're here? Confess something heartfelt? If so, feel free, but my time here is limited, and I assure you, you'd want to know more about how this works. You're... not exactly in the best position, seeing as many people would like people with powers locked up because of what they can do."

"Alright, alright Freddie I was just thinking...why should it matter what you call? My real name or the name I've made for myself? My birth name means nothin', I've been erased...my family, my life, gone. Fuck me man, I couldn't even find my neighbors! I keep worrying about that life, the other guy's life, and yet it means nothin'. Absolute shit! So why do I keep bringing it up? That's part of why I lost yesterday, I was too worried about his life...maybe it would be easier if I just accept that it's gone, taken, unattainable. Accept that there's only one thing now."

He stared at the mask facing him and spun it so it was facing Frederick.

"Psyclone."

He leaned back.

"So explain away. Probably the last day I'll listen...who the fuck am I kidding, I never listen!"

 

[Tortilla the Hun]

[HEADING=3]Daniel Luxe[/HEADING]

The sharp dressed demon left the Winnfield Tower's café with a smile on his face from reading the crime stories in the morning paper and full of crêpes. And while his breakfast satisfied his sweet tooth, the reports of armed muggings and an attempted murder that could have had a deliciously gruesome outcome kept him happy. There was a front page section on the recent festival and a super powered party-crasher which certainly was an interesting read, but it hadn't concerned him too much. He was here on business after all. However, that didn't mean he couldn't have a little fun while he was here. As he exited the lobby's grand foyer, a figure a ways beyond the front door stood out to him. "Hmm." was all Daniel said. Tacky sweater, bandaged head, and the creative type. Either he's an asylum escapee or someone that probably should be.

Casually, Daniel walked around his field of view, crossed the street, and with his usual quiet and soft footsteps, he approached the artist. Looking over a sweatered shoulder, he could see that the guy had talent. While Daniel's view of the man's face wasn't clear, he could see no emotion on display. Perhaps it was merely concentration, or perhaps the man really was crazy, likely a psychopath. Maybe even a sociopath, which would certainly be interesting. Crazies were always fun the deal with, and typically when it came to turning their souls sour, half the work was already done. "Beautiful building, isn't it?" Daniel asked, standing beside the grey-eyed sketcher. "You should see the inside. It really is impressive."

[HEADING=3]Dr. Schwertner[/HEADING]

"Scheisse!!" Vinzenz exclaimed in fright as a rat the size of his head brushed past his leg and off into one of the darker corridors. He stood frozen for a moment before erupting into a dramatic fit of shivers, disgusted to have been in contact with such a filthy creature. It took a moment for the doctor to gather himself, but once he had regained composure, he pressed on. Along the wall there were conduits and piping, all of which led to a more centralized power transformer. From there, he would have to devise a means to get it operational and supply power for his laboratory. Or at the very least, give him a larger supply of energy with which to start up a much more efficient generator than the decommissioned husk in the warehouse. He couldn't stop himself with wondering, with all his intelligence, he hadn't considered to bring a flashlight. It most assuredly wasn't the first time his ambition made him careless, and it wasn't likely to be the last, but he made do with the low lighting the overhead grates provided. He just hoped he would reach the power transformer soon.

Take your time, Doctor. You have all the time in the world, a voice called from the recesses of his conscious. Comforting, but cold. He had a slight chill as there was a feeling of something, not really physical, caressing the back of his mind. Again, he shook off the discomfort and kept moving, switching his train of thought to how he would get a power line to the warehouse. With his brain occupied with thought, Vinzenz paid no attention to the dark voice that added, smilingly, As do we...

 

[Lunar Templar]

Karen

After MockingJay left Karen was left to her thoughts till Tony and Annabelle returned.

"You missed Jason" Karen said as the pair came in. "Oh? Been awhile since he and Sandra swung by." Tony said as he made his way over to the couch "Sandra wasn't here, it was more a business visit" "Business? He's not seriously thinking about trying to get back the 'band back together' is he?" "Thankfully, no. he came about putting a new one together, with his son at the helm." Karen said as she pulled out the communicator she was given. "So he wants you to help Terry" Tony thought aloud. "Not a bad idea really, from what I hear, the kids gotta good head on his shoulders." "Jason is more worried about some one like a less morally guided Detective X getting in and exploiting his inexperience.

"Good call on Jason's part, I assume by the fancy walky talky you got there, you agreed?" "Yeah, I was just waiting for you guys to get back before I called in. But since your back I'm gonna go make that call now" Tony nodded as Karen picked up the communicator and hit the 'talk' button as Annabelle and Tony sat quietly. "Crick, this is 'Unicorn', or as you might have heard from your old man, Leviathan. You gotta minute to talk about this team your putting together?"

 

[IFS]

Tess

"Right now, just keep doing what you're doing. I need to temporarily shut the communicators down anyway. Get back to you in a bit."

He hung up on me, jerk. She sighed, what a waste of time, she hoped the team got more organized once it was formed otherwise it would likely be a pain to keep up with. Great so that just leaves me with the task of continuing my patrol, screw that I think I've earned a break, just need to find a place to change and I'll go get something to eat. Or hmm, I wonder if anyplace offers discounts on meals for heroes...

With that thought in mind she set off to find out, after all 'heroes' needed to eat too.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

George

"So that I know where to start, I mean."

George entered and sat down next to Tim, thinking hard for a moment about where to begin. I remember I was on my way to the festival, and then I think there were sirens maybe? I'm not sure... Was I at a crime scene?! No no, I couldn't have been. Unless you count the whole festival as one, it did sorta get attacked...

"Uh, I remember I was heading to the festival and then I think I heard sirens, maybe an ambulance or something?" he shrugged "I don't know, but after that I don't remember anything until I was walking away, with the place looking wrecked."

He tried to remember but nothing was coming, he hadn't just passed out on the sidewalk he knew that much, so what had happened? It felt like there was a block or something, keeping him from remembering. Maybe I did hit my head... Or maybe I'm just going crazy.

"Everything in between is just a blank space," he continued "I only know what happened at the festival because I checked the news afterwards."

 

[DarkRawen]

Frederick Rolls

"Alright, alright Freddie I was just thinking...why should it matter what you call? My real name or the name I've made for myself? My birth name means nothin', I've been erased...my family, my life, gone. Fuck me man, I couldn't even find my neighbors! I keep worrying about that life, the other guy's life, and yet it means nothin'. Absolute shit! So why do I keep bringing it up? That's part of why I lost yesterday, I was too worried about his life...maybe it would be easier if I just accept that it's gone, taken, unattainable. Accept that there's only one thing now."

So did the police say as well, no trace of whoever this man is beyond the Psyclone alias.

They had nothing on who he actually was, even if the man was in custody there was no trace of anything in the databases. Not a name, not his fingerprints, or origins, or anything. At least, if the main prosecutor in the case -funny how eager they were to take the case in contrast to the defence attorney that would eventually get chosen- had everything in order. Frederick would hardly blame the other

"Psyclone."

"Hello then, Psyclone. I would prefer if you called me Mr Rolls or Judge Rolls, but I suppose that's up to you," he said, smirking, before letting the other continue. He had no comment to give on the whole "turning the mask" thing, it was likely for some sort of effect, but, like the dust, it was lost on him.

"So explain away. Probably the last day I'll listen...who the fuck am I kidding, I never listen!"

"Well, it's simple," Frederick started, then he continued with a brief explanation of the system. From the first appearance, the initial arraignment, where the bail would also be set, then the second arraignment, then the preliminary hearing, where the prosecution would have to prove that there was probable cause for the crimes Psyclone were suspected of committed. Psyclone would be allowed a lawyer during most of this, and that was where the process had been halted, but he would be unlikely to get bailed out, due to the price it surely would be. Anything to keep a dangerous super-powered individual from the streets, after all.

"As for what follows, I suppose you'll find out, unless you plead guilty. The prosecution is unlikely to accept any deals, however, since the case against you is not only rather solid, but also involves an attack on a beloved public figure."

It wasn't necessary to mention that this public figure was also a friend of Frederick. While he certainly doubted his ability to keep himself neutral during a possible trial because of that, he knew he wouldn't be officially involved in the process. Frederick had considered giving the other bad advice, but that too was unwarranted for, he wasn't going to corrupt himself in order to take revenge on Theodore's behalf. The prosecution, and very possibly, the defence, would already handle that. As he spoke, he picked the mask up, studying it.

"This might be a stupid question," he started. "And it's certainly none of my business. But, for the sake of curiosity... why a gas-mask?"

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tim Merridy

"Uh, I remember I was heading to the festival and then I think I heard sirens, maybe an ambulance or something? I don't know, but after that I don't remember anything until I was walking away, with the place looking wrecked."

Tim let George try to remember, instead trying to figure it out himself. Heading for the festival, then sirens, Tim had watched most of it on TV, only caught the latter parts, but he knew that no one had been in danger before after the hostage situation had gone on for a while happened. Well, apart from the hostages, of course.

Hitting his head seems unlikely then. I mean, unless he just slipped and like, hit his head, of course, but that'd be awfully clumsy. I wonder if it has happened before?

Surely, George would mention it then. Then again, he hardly knew Tim, George probably wanted to keep something like that secret if it had happened. As he waited for George to continue, he studied the other closely, trying to see if he had any bruises or if his eyes seemed off in some way.

"Everything in between is just a blank space. I only know what happened at the festival because I checked the news afterwards."

"Oh, well, I don't remember seeing you either... but Loveless, the famous powered journalist guy got held hostage, and some fights broke out. Before that... well, I got there a bit late, Tom was there from very early, though, so if you were there, he'd know." He smiled, then sighed a bit, feeling somewhat dejected. He couldn't help at all, it seemed.

"So, you probably didn't slip and hit your head, and I assume you weren't drunk. Do you have a history of not remembering things? Or would you rather not talk about that kind of thing?" he asked. "Because if so, you could just wait for Tom to get back and ask him... though, I was thinking about getting some breakfast, so if you know any places that delivers food this early, that'd be great."

Tim had decided not to ask the other to make him breakfast, because, honestly, George probably wasn't feeling too well.

Besides, perhaps being nice would make Tom rethink the whole letting me stay here thing.


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sirius Hamilton

Sirius had been sketching for a while when he heard a voice next to him. He hadn't noticed getting approached, and it was a bit surprising, though he reacted in the same dull manner as he usually did.

"Beautiful building, isn't it? You should see the inside. It really is impressive."

"Yeah," Sirius replied, monotone voice and eyes at the other, fancier dressed man. "I probably should. But I don't think I'm allowed inside." With a few more lines on the sketch, he then stopped, a bit unsure of why the other hadn't left yet. Then again, he had noticed that people tended to get curious when they saw him, though Sirius could not understand what someone like him could do to make people interested. Draw, perhaps, people liked watching the pencil go back and forth.

I should probably say something more, just staying quiet would be rude.

Or so he reasoned, anyways.

"I assume you've seen the inside?" he decided to ask. If nothing else, he might get some description of the place. "What does it look like? As fancy as the outside? Is it beautiful?" He tilted his head, questioning, though there was nothing in his face or tone to portray that.

 

[TheNaut131]

Psyclone

Psyclone nodded slightly, unsurprised. After what he did to the city? The structural damages alone exceeded the average bail for fucking a serial killing banker rapists. But he wasn't too concerned or bothered, he was looking forward to messing around in court.

"As for what follows, I suppose you'll find out, unless you plead guilty. The prosecution is unlikely to accept any deals, however, since the case against you is not only rather solid, but also involves an attack on a beloved public figure."

"Ah, good ole Doctor Loveless..." Psyclone said with a grin and a very noticeable bitter growl as he said the name. He was gonna have to get back at Loveless when he got out, no playing around. Dangle the doctor above a building for at least 20 seconds and drop him-no no, juggle him for another 30 and THEN drop him.

That would be fun.

Psyclone was pulled out of his fantasy as Rolls reached for his mask.

This might be a stupid question," he started. "And it's certainly none of my business. But, for the sake of curiosity... why a gas-mask?"

"Haha, now that's a funny fucking story! Playing dice with some guys during the winter in these old abandoned apartments. I win of course, guys get's pissed, comes at me with a bottle, I spin the dirty torn-up carpet under our feet and he goes flying into the bonfire these bums have put together. The rest of the bums try to bum rush me-HA-I do the same thing AND knock their drinks into the fire! Wasn't even thinking about it, it just sorta happened. Funny how that works. Anyway, carpet burst into flames, the wooden banisters catch, and the fire spreads to apartments people are actually livin' in...well people with money, all the homeless and druggies were still in the other floors. I yelled at them to leave my bachelor pad but eh, what are you gonna do! Eventually fire fighters show up and I'm just sorta spinnin' the smoke around me, drunk off my ass in my own little air pocket since I decided to down a few spare bottles of vodka."

Psyclone was pretty much laughing his ass off, reminiscing on his drunken tail of debauchery. It was nice to remember the havoc and carelessness of his life. But he suddenly stopped, remembering that the fun always has to end.

"All the other fire fighters were trying to work around me or just wait for the cops, but this one asshole had to be a fuckin' hero, had to try some shit! He comes at me out of the smoke, with his gasmask one, and pushes me in. The asshole is holding me down, trying to asphyxiate me. I lose focus, vortex collapses, I'm being chocked out. Can't focus on anything to spin, can't make him spin since he's fully clothed. So I'm coughin' up a storm, my eyes burn, and the guy is sitting on top of me, laughing as I start to pass out. And as I'm passing out I hear him say...'sweet dreams, kid.'When I woke up their was a colossal vortex of fire and smoke surrounding what was left of the demolished apartments. I look down and see the guy staring at me from behind his gas-mask, absolutely terrified, half his body under debris and building supports. I reach out...and take his mask off."

Psyclone stared down at the mask for a short time after telling the story behind it. He remembered the look on the man's face as he toar it off and started walking away, the vortex beginning to collapse around them. He heard the yelling, then the screaming, then the coughing, and then...silence.

"See, that guy made two mistakes that day. One, he used the same words this one 'teacher' at 'the school' would use before knocking me out when I got to rowdy during testing and examinations. And two, he made the same mistakes people make about people like me, telepaths, psychokinetics, you name. He thought that he putting me out of my misery would stop me, that stopping my conscious would make a guy with powers like mine weak and ineffective. No no no, my conscious mind is what makes me weak. But unconscious? Pure raw instinct, survival, and whatever fucked up mental layers are in play? Well, that's another thing entirely."

 

[DarkRawen]

Frederick Rolls

"Ah, good ole Doctor Loveless..."

Frederick didn't like the tone Psyclone was using when talking about Theodore. Likely, the other wanted revenge for what the journalist had done to him, and that wasn't good at all. However, he chose not to respond to it, Psyclone seemed like the kind of guy to respond the wrong way to someone telling him not to stick a fork in the electric socket, and reacting to this kind of thing meant risking that it would make the other even more eager.

No need giving him more of a reason to try to go after Theodore, should Psyclone ever get out. However, if he does escape, then I would at least know who to protect.

Unless the other decided to go for pure mayhem, of course, the wind-powers the other had seemed to be extremely devastating when it came to destruction. Regardless, Frederick just kept quiet, now listening to the tale of the mask, certainly not an uplifting one. Frederick hadn't expected anything too sensible, but the story he was delivered, and the manner it was delivered in, made him feel disgusted on several levels. He frowned, unsure of what to say, because he had so many things he could comment on, and very few that he should.

The lawful side of him made him want to, ironically enough, break the law and let the police know about this, break his vow of confidentiality and ensure that Psyclone got locked up. Then again, it couldn't be difficult for the police to find that information on their own. Of course, if what Psyclone had been saying was entirely true, there would be a rather large part of that story missing.

It was likely covered up, after all.

Regardless, he didn't ask anything about that. The investigative side of him that often drove him to look into things, especially as the Specter, noted the way Psyclone said some things, school, teacher, and the way he described these. It was beginnning to piece something together, something from this and from the fact that his past seemed to have been erased. He'd heard something akin to this before, when listening in on the conversations of... no, it wasn't important. He wouldn't think anymore about it. Or rather, he wouldn't do it for Psyclone, the other power-user was at best mischievous, and likely far more malevolent.

Of course, what had sprung to Frederick's mind initially was quite similar to that as well, he supposed, as he'd considered, if only for a brief moment, to put the gas-mask on and say the things the fireman had said, "sweet dreams kid" or whatever, just to gauge the reaction. In his mind, it would just be a bit of harmless fun, though he figured it wouldn't be quite that fun when he had to escape through the wall because Psyclone got angry or over-eager, one or the other.

What he finally decided to address was the very brief thing mentioned towards the end, about telepaths and psychokinetics and such. He wasn't exactly sure where his abilities when it came to moving objects around would fit in -he'd always considered them to be "poltergeisting" or something akin to that- but the very least somewhere inside the broad range that was considered psychokinesis. For what it was worth, Psyclone seemed sure about what he was saying. It wasn't the thought of gaining more power that caused Frederick to get an interest in it, but what sounded to be a dangerous side-effect, one that he might already have seen something of the former week.

"You sound very sure about that," he said, not letting his worries become apparent in his face. "About people mistakes when it came to people like you, I mean. How do you know that's not just how your abilities work? You almost sound like you're an expert on the matter, and I kind of doubt you've been conducting research about it. So how would you even know? Surely, you're not just mistaking everyone else for yourself and deciding that you're by default the rule, right?" Frederick muttered, a bit mockingly, an attempt to keep himself from giving away anything he shouldn't.

"So, what do you know about it? Only because I'm curious, of course."

 

[TheNaut131]

Psyclone

"So, what do you know about it? Only because I'm curious, of course."

Psyclone sighed, shaking his head with a slight chuckle. This was gonna be fun.

"What don't I know, shit man. Shit I got a few files back at the last place I was holed up. Just uncuff and I promise I
ll be right back."

He put on the largest shit-eating grin he possibly could. Psyclone was coming to realize certain people weren't so easily rattled. They weren't too fun. Pretty much anyone with a set of powers or anyone who'd been around the block a couple of times could take whatever he dished out. He was learning to stop playing along and just put them in the ground as soon as he could. But Rolls was asking some interesting questions, so Psyclone give him mostly honest answers.

"Well, you see, I've seen 'it' first hand. I hung out with 'it', had lunch with 'it', tested with 'it'. Psychokinetics were always fun to hang around, but the teachers were always keepin' a close eye on them. You know, since they could pretty much make fire whenever, and there was no way to really keep a hold on them-well aside from the constant threat of sucking all the oxygen out of a room but I digress. See, that whole sucking-the-air-out-of-a-room thing wasn't just for putting out fires, it was for knockin' the kid out too. But this one kid, really big and fuckin' mean, he wasn't having it, even as he went under. We could hear screaming, but not his, fuck no, it was the teachers. The more air they sucked out of the room, the hotter and brighter he burned."

Psyclone sat back in his chair. Reggie, the kids name was Reggie.

"His max range when I had last seen him that day was about 6 feet, 5 inches His max temperature was 200 hundred degrees. During this shit, the kid not only burned the entire testing room, the observation room in front of it, and every subsequent room in that wing of the school, so...about 32 room. I heard a teacher yell that he was burning at about 30,000 degree Kelvin and risin fast. He was burning at over half the temperature of the fuckin' Sun's surface and RISING. And he was essentially unconscious. An 'administrator' showed up and ended him. Ended the fucking kid hard. Nothing left but ash."

The fucking administrators. Those fucking assholes! Psyclone could see the imagine in his head, him, Cry, and over a dozen other kids fighting their way through them as they took down the school. The administrators had always made it clear to the kids that they were "just like you...only better." They said that the students should look up to them, that if they survived education, they'd have everything they ever wanted. What a load of shit. Many of the kids identified felt like they sorta recognized them as villains, others said a few were heroes.

"Administrators. Fuckin' bastards. This shit always ended the same. Girl who could control people. Living things. She gets a bit upset, they want her to get a group of rats to kill each other. A group of regular teacher's walk in with some...uh...fuck it, we just called em guards, to take the girl back to her room. The girl turns too fast, guard puts a round in her chest, she goes into shock, next thing you know the guards and teachers are tearing each others throats out. Administrator makes all the remaining guards turn their guns on her. Repeat. Illusionist boy, has a drug induced nightmare, traps teachers in mental loop, administrator puts him a coma, dies. Repeat. Photokinesis girl, put her in a room that absorbs light, she has a panick attack, gives teachers epilepsy, pretty sure the administrator pulls her fuckin' eyes out, dies, repeat, repeat, repeat."

Psyclone looks straight at Rolls.

"The human brain wants you to live. A brain like mine, like everyone like me, wants to fuckin' survive. And their definition of survival is fuckin' scary if you're on the wrong end of it. But the scariest were always the astral projectors. Because they had no real fight and flight mechanism really. The could float around and watch as things went wrong, or as they slipped away, but that was it. See, there was no screaming, no blood, no horror, just...death. Maybe the teachers put them under for two long, or the kid had something like an asthma attack in their sleep, they tripped, etc. It was always just a regular ole accident, or just the usual 'love and care' from the school. After that, two things would happen. You'd see them everywhere, in the halls, bathroom, testing rooms, the corner of your bed, watching silently. Or screaming. Screamers were the worst. And then...they'd find their way back to their bodies."