Specter
"Okay. I'll go with you. It's gonna take me some time to get there though; I can't fly. And I won't make you show yourself to Sofia if you don't want to. Does she know you're the Specter? I haven't told anyone so..."
"She knows," the Specter confirmed. "She saw me enter Frederick's... my... body. But she said she suspected it, with the disappearances, and with this new, suspicious ghost hero being sarcastic in public and wearing theatre masks. I suppose she just knew me too well. Him... the person I used to be. As for getting there, I'll follow you, don't worry. Hurry, though."
With that, he seemingly disappeared, though the Specter stayed, paying little attention to what Theodore was doing apart from if he was moving into another room or outside. Whenever that happened, he followed, never straying too far from the other.
I don't want to wait.
This was... worrying him to say the least. What if Theodore was lying? What if he wasn't? Why would his body still be alive? Or... or perhaps he hadn't been lost for as long as he thought. Had he lost as much of himself as he had, for nothing? Like a fool, given up on Frederick because... no, his body was still a flesh puppet, even if it did somehow survive. Every now and then, an item would shake as the Specter got close to it, resonating with his troubled mind, and allerting Theodore of his presence. Finally, they got to the hospital, and entered the room.
"Here goes nothing," he said, speaking in merely a whisper, though Theodore could hear it. It was an uneasy Specter that floated into the hospital room, noticing Sofia sleeping on the bed. His bed. Where Frederick lay, weak, pale, small. He had always been rather small and pale, dark brown contrasting with the skin to make him seem more so, but this was different. It reminded him of the coma, and it was upsetting, very much so. "My heart stopped," he said, suddenly, and appeared, masks both at the back of his head this time. He was above his body, looking down.
"But it's beating. There's... something inside my body. A fragment of a soul, perhaps that's why it's still alive. For now. It's still a flesh puppet for me to wear, Theodore. It's Frederick, but... it's not right, not natural. I'm not right, I think my soul is fragmented, and something's... changed. Everything in the past seems so distant." His voice sounded accepting of that fact, though pierced with despair. Then his mind went back to Gabriel, blaming him, and the anger surfaced, though only in his words.
"If I enter the puppet, if I apologize, will you still tell me where Gabriel Oakfield is? I need to kill him, because he's the one who put me in this state. It's the only way to make things right. I don't think I'll ever really be Frederick, or a judge, nor really Sofia's brother again, but I'll try, if you let me finish it."
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Tim Merridy
"Home? Like back with your parents?"
"No, the very okay-but-not-quite-good dreamworks movie with the same name," Tim replied, sarcastically, as he eyed Tom. "Of course home to my parents. Or rather, to my dorm room, the college people are probably wondering why I left. No roommate, though, I paid to make sure of that," he continued, a bit sourly over that his request to be taken outside had gone unheeded.
"Er ahem, where would that be anyways?"
"Out of town," he replied. "Smaller place, near the state-border to the south, one of those; "not so important, yet for some reason we have a college" places, you know the kind," he replied, lazily, and got up. "Now, seriously, I'm dying in here, let's do something," he whined, and started putting on his shoes and jacket.
"Seriously Tom, I'm going insane, if you don't take me outside I'll go real evil and stab you in your sleep or something. You know, typical movie style, slasher, I'll chase you down the hallways with a knife and everything, it'll be great," he grinned, though he wasn't actually going that insane. That would require one of those torture scenes, one with a tv and with enough of the bad Adam Sandler movies to scratch your eyes out.
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Sirius Hamilton
Unlike many of the heroes, Sirius saw little backlash after the incident with the explosion. This was partly because he wasn't really a hero, and partly because he hadn't been around for long, but most of all because pretty much no one knew who he was. And even those who did know him, knew him as the guy who had healed some people. However, this didn't mean there wasn't anything on his mind, the conversation during the dinner with Daniel Luxe, for instance. And the fact that super-powered individuals would be likely to be regarded with suspicion and as a danger. Which, again, meant that Sirius couldn't use most of his powers without expecting people to get frightened.
That's no good, if they're afraid, how can I help them?
Of course, he was dragged out of his thoughts as he noticed someone on a motorbike driving far too quickly, and then crashing into a van. Or was it a truck? It all went a little too quickly for him to see, and then it was completely slow. For a couple of moments, he thought it might have been an accident, but then he noticed that the man on the bike was seemingly fine, and started rummaging through the truck.
A criminal, then?
Sirius wondered if he should act, perhaps the biker was just trying to help the other driver... though it was entirely the wrong part of the truck to be that. Finally, he shook his head.
No, this is a robbery.
From the corner of his eye, he noticed that someone else was standing there. He thought he had noticed someone following, was that her? Or had they simply been going the same way. There was something about her -the way she stood, her body- that was familiar, though he couldn't quite recall until he got closer. Then, he noticed it, the facial shape and eyes were the same, he was sure of it. The hero from earlier, Coil he thought it might be.
Oh, that's convenient.
Although, she was out of her costume. Looking at her, making sure it was her, Sirius then spoke.
"Oh, it's you. From earlier. Hi again, by the way," he continued, being polite was important even in a situation like this. He would have smiled, but it wasn't really the right time. There was a casual tone to what he said that made he perfectly clear that he didn't seem to care much about her secret identity either. He pointed towards the truck and the guy trying to rob it.
"Are you off your shift, or do you want to deal with that? I would help, but my only current power is useless." The only source of emotions he currently had was the ghost's, and, while he had curiously peaked in to see if something was going on, once, he had been so unsettled by the emotions experienced that he had shut the connection, and had no intention of opening it back up unless there was an absolute emergency.