[Dominic Weaver]

Surge The best part of “believe” is the “lie”. + Alice Morrow + Mason Warner + Will Chase + Persephone Dean + Claire Elliot

Instinct had taken over, which in this case may well have been fortunate. The man carrying a gun had rounded the corner first and Surge had acted without thinking. It might not have been the best move, a bolt like that was a good portion of his juice, but it had at least taken one firearm out of the equation. Not that it made the situation that much better. There was still a large group of thugs crowding into both ends of the alley. There was a crack of splintering wood and he glanced over, seeing Paladin disappearing through a doorway. It was a good idea, if they were trapped in here things would go bad for them, super powers or not. At least if they could lose the group in the warehouse they might have a hope of making it out in one piece. Fortunately his earlier display seemed to have made most of the group wary, with only one brave enough to charge past him and through the door. The explosion of a gunshot inside the building gave them further pause, and Surge seized the opportunity, barrelling back towards the end of the alley Ink was parked at. He laughed with maniacal glee and held out his hands behind him, sparks falling from his palms as he ran. It had exactly the effect he hoped for and they tried to back desperately out of his way, colliding with one another in their panic. He jabbed one lightly as he passed, causing the man to twitch and collapse as a result. A tire iron swung for his head and he swayed to the side, though not quite fast enough. The rough metal implement caught his forehead and he stumbled, grunting in pain as the skin split. Blood fell from it almost instantly, and that sight of mortality rejuvenated the thug's courage. Three of them started after him as he ran down the street, doing his best to lead them away from the chaos of the alleyway. He saw Ink in the front seat of her car, staring wide eyed in his direction. She'd been against this from the start, and right now he was beginning to see her point of view. He banked to the left, hoping the guys following him would continue to do so, leaving Ink safe. He spoke into his cheap Bluetooth earpiece as he ran, "Now would be a great time to get out of here" He could only hope that Claire would do so and wouldn't entertain ideas of taking these guys on.

© seadra of gs

[Persephone Dean]

Crashing the Masquerade

Sprinting for your life was apparently useless when there was an equally unfriendly-looking group of men trapping you in at the other end, and Persephone skidded to a halt beside her teammates. There wasn’t time to come up with a strategy, only react as best they could, and Persephone’s instinct was to crouch down low and wait for the assailants to dare to draw closer. She did her best to forget that she was Persephone Dean. She was Duchess now.

Surge struck the man with the hand-gun with all his usual flair, the alley flashing blue for an instant as the bolt connected. There was only the barest of pauses in which their enemies realised what they were up against before the action really kicked in, and Duchess found herself actually moving towards the danger in order to dispel it.

She could hear grunts of pain from the group at the other end – clearly whoever had chosen to take that flank was also having some impact. Paladin had blasted a door off its hinges and was rushing through, Overwatch close behind her, and Duchess took the opportunity to grant them a few moments to breathe.

Delicate glass vial still in her hand, Duchess threw it with a surprising amount of force and accuracy at the men directly before her, immediately leaping into a back handspring to move away from the effects of its contents. She was rather pleased that she could still pull off that move with only a little corrective step.

A cloud of dust burst violently in front of one man’s face, the two either side of him also catching a good amount of it in their eyes. The powder had been an effort to produce but Duchess was more than satisfied with its results – and particularly grateful that she’d produced several vials of it. It halted the three in their tracks, clawing at their eyes and choking at the sudden inhalation (a side effect she hadn’t considered, but a useful one).

There were others coming from the side that Spectre had presumably been dealing with – their number slightly thinned, but not enough to keep them back – and Duchess bolted from them, aiming to follow the path that Surge had taken and maybe re-join him in combat. Entering the warehouse was not really an option with all the thugs trying to follow Paladin and Overwatch.

She could hear shots again. Inside. No way to tell from which side, although the sudden halt of guys in the doorway was a pretty good indicator. She could only hope that they wouldn’t give up on entering the warehouse and follow her instead.

Duchess came out the end of the alleyway and kept running, spotting a group of men being led down the street by Surge. She could have sworn that she’d spotted a flash of crimson on his forehead when he looked back for a moment. She’d need to get some of her salve to him when she had the chance.

For now, she pulled out another vial of blinding powder and shouted as loud as she could to draw the guys’ attention. “Hey, go long!”

A couple of them turned, confused, and the other looked back. Duchess propelled herself forward with another energetic handspring and threw the vial as hard as she could at their feet, hoping the powder would spread enough to have at least some effect.

They were lined up in the street before Ink’s car, almost perfectly… like bowling pins…

Claire Elliot | Alice Morrow | Mason Warner | Dominic Weaver | Will Chase

583 words

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[Deleted]

WORDS: 554

TAGS: The whole gang.

The entirety of the time that the others spent running or defending themselves, Claire was still curled forward in the front seat of the car covering the back of her head with her hands as best she could. She could still hear gunshots - which made her twitch down further every time - and the zapping of what she could only guess was Dominic's electricity. Or, rather, "Surge" as he preferred to be known by behind the mask. Ink had no mask. The name was an endearing term at first, finally one that stuck, and evolved to be included into the aliases the others had chosen for themselves.

Upon hearing Dominic through the speakers, she shouted back over the commotion. "Where! Which way!" Claire dared to finally lift her head up a few inches to peek between the hollow area at the top of the steering wheel through the windshield. A few men stumbled quite a few yards ahead down by Persephone (who's costume was unmistakable even at night). One clawed furiously at his eyes, the other sort of just bumbled around, and the third coughed most of whatever powder was in the air away while batting it with his hands. They were all in a line. Standing there towards the best exit. Right next to Persephone. Soon, at least the two would recover...

Time was running out.

With the realization, Claire slowly sat up with a hopeless expression and a small whine. "No, no! Come on," she shook her head to herself. It wasn't a question of the best decision... it was whether or not she could actually make herself do it. "Watch out!" she tried to shout towards the young woman, anxious hands hovering over the steering wheel. Then, the one began to reach downwards towards the street and Claire's eyes followed. The gun along the pavement caught a small twinkle of light and her chest tightened.

The ignition fired on and the engine revved, jetting the car forward and catching the attention to all of them. Her knuckles on the steering wheel were white and her hands already ached from how hard they held onto the wheel. The pedal was pressed to the floor and the last thing she saw was the man raise his arm her way with a shocked face. Claire shrieked, let go of the steering wheel, and put her arms in front of her face as best she could. The gun fired, one man dove out of the way, the other was knocked into the wall of the alley, and the gunman rolled over the hood and roof before the whole front end of the sedan crunched in with the sound of loud, crashing metal against a heavy dumpster.

The engine made a few knocks until it finally ceased, a small amount of smoke coming from one side of the hood to eventually peter out. The airbag that had caught her deflated and revealed a visibly dazed Claire. No cuts or scratches were along any of her shown skin, only her clothing, but a quarter-sized hole was missing from her leather jacket at the front of her shoulder. After a few heavy breaths she just leaned her head back against the headrest and shut her eyes; exhausted.

NOTES: Glad the car was insured.
WEARING: Here.

＃ENY ADOXOGRAPHY

[Alice Morrow]

Paladin Am I more than you bargained for yet? + Mason Warner + Claire Elliot + Persephone Dean + Will Chase + Dominic Weaver + wearing

The roar of an engine outside suggested that Ink was making her escape, and it only added to Paladin's panic. It was followed by a screech and the awful crunch of metal colliding with metal. She stuck her head out of the window, the faint breeze tussling her blue hair as she gazed down on the worrying scene. Ink's car was resting against a dumpster, the entire front of the car crumpled and steam rising from beneath the bent and misshapen hood. It had to be a write-off, there was no way it was going to be able to drive off after that. She looked closer, seeing that Ink was still in the driver's seat. Her head was back, and she didn't seem to be moving. Her eyes widened as she realised that whoever these guys were, they were very serious. As if the earlier gunshots hadn't been enough of a clue. Who could they possibly be? Something to do with the dealer they had taken down? It had been a big drug bust, she'd seen it on the news, but there hadn't been any mention of Paladin or the rest of the group. It had been stupid to think that there would be no retaliation. It wasn't as if they'd made themselves particularly hard to find, they were all in costume after all. She paused, realising that this was exactly what they had been asking for. Maybe it wasn't what she had intended, but it was what she had got. She turned back to the stairwell as Overwatch emerged, brushing urgently past him to meet the bravest of the thugs chasing them. He swung a baseball bat towards her head. Paladin fought the urge to flinch or dodge to weapon, instead throwing up a hand to catch the bat. The man's eyes widened as his weapon stopped dead in mid-air. Paladin ignored his shock and pushed him in the chest, returning the energy he'd given her. The man clearly wasn't expecting the blow that the slip of a girl delivered. He tumbled backwards down the stairs, hitting the wall bodily. What air remained in his lungs after the blow was forced from his body as he hit the wall, and he lay groaning on the concrete. She almost breathed a sigh of relief, for a moment she had worried that he might have been more badly injured. He might be trying to kill her, but she still didn't want his death on her conscience. Despite her name, Paladin was not a stone cold killer. Paladin went back into the stair well and continued up, not realising that in doing so she was cutting herself off from Overwatch and the others as two more men followed her up the stairs, one of them clutching a handgun. The two behind them split off onto the floor Overwatch was now on. Completely by accident, Paladin had succeeded in splitting them up.

© seadra of gs

[Mason Warner]

Crashing the Masquerade

Climbing the fire escape had been a good plan in terms of both surveillance and self-preservation. Nobody seemed to have even thought to go up the ladder – which probably said more about the ladder’s unstable appearance than it did Mason’s ingenuity – and he had an excellent vantage point here from which to catch his breath and assess the situation. It felt very superhero, looking down upon the alleyway.

There goes the amazing Surge. POW! WHAM!

He winced as he watched the tire iron connect with Surge, glancing off his forehead, but was jubilant to see that Surge kept going – barely affected by the wound.

BANG! Overwatch with the firearms back-up!

The sound of bullets being fired rang out from inside the warehouse, Mason- Spectre feeling very grateful for the brick wall separating him from the gunshots. Shouts of surprise and anger rang out as Overwatch and Paladin tried to keep the thugs back.

Look at Duchess go! Flying through the air, WOW! That’ll teach ‘em!

She had mentioned her acrobatic skills, even demonstrated upon request, but it was still a little amazing to see Duchess in action. Her plant products seemed to have the desired effect as well, allowing her to link up with Surge in the street.

NYOOOM!

Oh, Ink, what are you-?

SMMASSSHHH!

Spectre watched in horror as she drove into the trio of men that Surge and Duchess had lined up before crashing into the alleyway – the front of her car bending around a dumpster. It seemed like she’d incapacitated two of the three, with the third recovering on the floor from having leapt out of her way, but he was more concerned about the fact that Ink remained in the car, eyes shut. At least she was breathing… but she looked hurt. Duchess needed to get to her.

He needed to clear the path for Duchess, there were still a couple of men out in the alleyway, eyeing up Ink’s car. Spectre hauled himself up the final few rungs of the ladder and rolled out onto the roof, grabbing the nearest makeshift ammo he could find.

He heaved the over-sized plank of wood over to the edge and tipped it over, watching as it spun gracefully through the air before catching them completely off-guard. They hit the deck.

KA-BLAM! He shoots, he scores!

Will Chase | Dominic Weaver | Persephone Dean | Claire Elliot | Alice Morrow

387 words

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[Will Chase]

Alice sent the man immediately behind Will crashing back down the staircase in a flurry of limbs almost as soon as he reached the top, but while Will immediately opened the door to the side and stepped into the second floor he heard Alice instead start up the stairs to the third floor, separating them. He would've gone up after her, or at least called out to warn her that she was just trapping herself, but he could hear their pursuers coming up the stairs behind them and hesitated. It was only for a second, but that second was enough to leave him cut off from his friend by what felt like at least six men, all of whom were more than willing to cause serious harm, judging by the guns some of the attackers had been carrying. Will slammed the door shut as loudly as he could, before sprinting over to the side of the open space that made up the vast majority of the second floor. He smashed a window, again making sure to create as much noise as possible, before sprinting back to the door to the staircase just as it opened and a man with knife stepped into the room. Will had not thought his actions through as much as he would later claim. They had been a likely misguided reaction to his fear for Alice's safety, and his anger at himself that he had been so foolish as to let the group go out and try to fight crime. Had he taken the time to think, he would've realised that Alice's ability protected her against most forms of attack these men would have access to, possibly even against bullets, while he himself was still just as vulnerable as he had been before the accident. Even then, however, he likely would've still done the exact same thing. Will was a man who would always choose to risk himself over risking other people. It was just who he was. That was why when he realised that he and Alice had been separated, he chose to draw as much of the attention of their pursuers away from her and onto himself. After all, he was the elder, he was the one with training, and he was the one who should've known better. Alice was younger than Ashley and, unfortunately for Will, just similar enough to her to hammer on his protective instincts. Will tore his arms out of his coat as he ran and threw the heavy thing on the first assailant even as the man was getting his bearings, blinding him just long enough for Will to rip the knife out of his hand, throw it as far away as he could and kick the man into the wall. Then the next man was through the doorway and swinging a baseball bat, smashing it into Will's raised left forearm in a blow that almost broke the bone in an instant. Had the thug had more room to build up his swing Will would've been left with a shattered forearm, but even with the bone still intact the agony left the arm virtually unusable. Will backed away as two more men pushed into the room, leaving him alone with four attackers, a busted arm, and no way out. Sometimes, being a nice guy just wasn't worth it Jump into an open grave? What kind of idiot are you? I might as well put on a red shirt and volunteer for the away team. Will Chase 559 Words

♛

[Dominic Weaver]

Surge The best part of “believe” is the “lie”. + Alice Morrow + Mason Warner + Will Chase + Persephone Dean + Claire Elliot

Surge turned at the roar of the engine and the scream of crumpling metal. The scene that greeted him was surprising. It looked like Ink had used her car as an impromptu battering ram, driving it headfirst into the alleyway. Two men lay on the ground, one with his arm twisted into a decidedly unnatural position. The third was slowly picking himself up. Surge couldn't see the front of the car from where he stood, but it didn't appear that Ink was moving, and the man climbing to his feet besides the vehicle didn't look particularly entertained. He was scrabbling about, and Surge realised that the black object on the ground near him was a gun. He swore and started to run. The man finally got his hands on the gun, then started fiddling with the slide. Perhaps the fall had damaged it, Surge didn't know much about guns, but he was just grateful that there was a problem with this one. Then there was an explosion. The man had gotten the firearm working, and a bullet seared past Surge. He flinched, stumbling in shock from how close the shot had been, but he kept running. The man fired again, missing once more. He obviously wasn't a good shot, and Surge was grateful for the poor quality of criminals today. Sparking, his fist collided with the man's chin. He probably didn't need to hit him so hard, as the residual charge sent the man sprawling on the concrete. He twitched a moment, and then stopped moving. Surge's eyes widened for a moment behind his mask, and then he let out a sigh of relief as the man's chest moved. He was unconscious, not dead. He rubbed his knuckles ruefully, they had split where he'd hit the hard bone of the thug's chin, and he could feel the faint heat of blood within his gloves. It was better than a bullet wound. Realising that things were still happening, he moved to the side of the car. Ink was sat still in the seat, but closer examination showed that she was in fact still conscious, obviously just shaken by what she'd just done. He opened the door, reaching out to shake her shoulder, "You OK?" He stepped back to give her space to climb out of the car, if she wanted, and looked at the building, before dragging his eyes all the way to the top. There was a shock of blue hair at the edge of the roof. "Shit."

© seadra of gs

[Persephone Dean]

Crashing the Masquerade

It seemed that Ink had also made the tenpin connection, her car lurching forwards with a sudden urgency that surprised Duchess. A pleasant surprise, but a surprise nonetheless. Ink didn’t seem to be quite sure of her own course of action but there was no backing down now as she tore through the men. The sedan roared hungrily, a beast of its own volition, while its user screamed and covered her face. Duchess was mesmerised in that moment.

There was an ugly noise as the car collided with a dumpster – the airbags deploying with a sudden bang – and Duchess followed Surge’s charge. He dealt swiftly with the one remaining opponent, leaving Duchess clear to make her way to the car and begin going through the contents of the pouches at her waist.

Surge was the one to deal with Ink first – every inch the reassuring leader that Duchess had first witnessed all those weeks ago. He asked her if she was okay before giving her some space, and Duchess was just about to ask him if he needed any healing of his own when his gaze was torn away.

“What?” she demanded, casting her eyes away from Ink for a moment to look up at whatever Surge had spotted. She frowned. There was definite action taking place on the roof, and it looked like Alice was alone up there.

“I don’t think this will do much good if she falls,” Persephone commented in a low voice as she pulled out her salve. She turned to Ink. “Is there any… oh shit.”

Duchess pressed her fingers gently against the hole on Ink’s jacket, watching the girl’s expression. “I can put some salve on but it’s not going to extract anything that might be buried there,” she said, frowning. “We’ll have to get you to a hospital. Or… I don’t know.”

Her role as medic began and ended at plant-based healing products. Surgical powers were not, unfortunately, one of the doctor’s many gifts to the survivors. Duchess turned to Surge, looking back between him and Ink for any advice from either of them. She wasn’t a leader, she needed something, anything that could inform her next move.

Maybe if Ink hadn’t been in such a blind state of panic they wouldn’t even be in this mess. She was obviously the least inclined towards joining their work and this night demonstrated that as well as any other. So careless.

Claire Elliot | Alice Morrow | Mason Warner | Dominic Weaver | Will Chase

406 words

ψ

[Deleted]

WORDS: 554

TAGS: The whole gang.

The knocking sounds of the grumbling, dying engine were in perfect synchronization with the thumps inside her skull. The wave came and went, both aching and disorienting. One side of her forehead was a little red instead of pale white – the area that had managed to hit the steering wheel first just a split second before the airbag deployed – but it didn’t appear too bad. Definitely would leave a bruise later on. The real damage was the pressure it had caused behind it, head throbbing and brain swelling like a balloon.

She woke to a jostle and the smell of fresh electrical smoke tingling her sinuses. “I’m up,” she felt the need to answer first before the question even came out of his mouth – conveying to whomever was nearby but mainly for self-assessment. “I’m up,” she repeated tiredly, head rolling on the chair’s rest behind her. Claire lifted a hand instinctively and put the pads of her fingers briefly on the small read area on her head before looking displeased and discovering it wasn’t fun to touch.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay,” she answered the familiar voice of their natural leader, turning slowly in the driver’s side as he opened the creaking door and set her feet down on the pavement while remaining seated. Her words were slowly spoken like she’d just woken up from a long night’s sleep and she kept her head dipped down and away from any sources of light from the street lamps around; a small wince permanent for the time being on her face.

She felt other hands examining her and sat up as best she could with eyes squeezed shut while not being able to focus on anything else other than how oddly in time the throbbing in her head constantly was. When Dominic and Persephone both took their attention away from her and quickly onto something else, she opened an eye upwards to what they were staring at. The figure was foggy and the lights were too sensitive in her vision but she could tell.

Her mouth opened to say something in worry but the dull pain in her shoulder from Persephone’s little prodding had her hissing instead. Claire’s face scrunched and she looked down at the hole in her jacket. She’d be thankful for the bump on her head later… because instead of panicking or going into nervous-‘nope’-Claire-mode all she could do was frown in utter, exhausted disappointment and express a solemn, “I love this jacket…” Hospital? Again? A groan followed her lowering head in defeat at the thought of it.

“The roof,” she mentioned, scooting closer to the edge of the seat by a few inches as a sign she was about to stand. Or try to. Sure enough, she pushed up against the ground and balanced as much of her weight as she could before needing to hang somewhat on the open door. Claire shook her head to try and get rid of the lethargic, drowsy feeling blanketing her and forced her squinting eye upwards again towards Alice. She needed to help but-… there was no way to.

NOTES: A little dopey.
WEARING: Here.

＃ENY ADOXOGRAPHY

[Alice Morrow]

Paladin Am I more than you bargained for yet? + Mason Warner + Will Chase + Dominic Weaver + Persephone Dean + Claire Elliot + wearing

Paladin stumbled out of the door into the fresh air. It was a shock, during her short time in the warehouse she had become used to the musty stale air. She felt her lungs expand as the cold San Francisco night air rushed in. She turned, eyes wide, hearing pursuit up the stairs. A man swore, and it wasn't Overwatch's voice. She slammed the door and spotted a 2 by 4 near by. Grabbing it, she wedged the plank against the door. Looking around, she moved quickly over to the air conditioner squatting like some enormous spider on the corner of the roof. The door rattled behind it as a boot crashed into it. No sooner had she pressed her back against the metal of the decrepit unit than she heard the crack of splitting wood, and the voices of two men as they came out onto the roof. Plucking up her courage, and balling her fist in the way Overwatch had taught her, she spun around the air conditioner. She met a man coming the other way, much closer than she had expected. Instinctively she stepped backwards and felt her heel catch on something. When her next step met nothing but air she realised that what her heel had caught on was the raised lip at the edge of the roof. Paladin dropped off the roof. There was no gravity defying cartoonish moment, time didn't seem to move in slow motion. One moment she was standing on solid ground, the next the wind was rushing past her. She saw two heads appear over the edge of the roof, the men who had been chasing her. She closed her eyes… Everything stopped. The wind rushing in her ears, the feeling of her stomach dropping into an endless well, it was all over. It was as if time had simply decided to take the day off. Still with her eyes closed, Paladin wondered if this was what it was like to be dead. She had been expecting to feel the impact like she had in the accident. There had been nothing, no impact, no pain, just a sudden rush of energy… A sudden rush of energy. Paladin opened her eyes and sat up. The power she'd been holding before was nothing compared to this. Falling down stairs, a few careful blows, even the wild swing of a baseball bat, none of them had come close to this heady rush of power. She stood, carefully, afraid she might simply explode. It took a moment, but the rush began to ebb, the energy settling into its place. It was still there, but the sudden flow of power that had surged through her was calmed now, waiting to be used once more. She looked around, seeing Surge and Duchess staring at her in shock. She looked down, failing to see her own body at her feet, definitely not dead then. Looking up, she saw the two faces disappear from the edge of the roof, then her eyes widened. Overwatch was still in there. "Shit! Overwatch!" She turned to run to the door, then paused. She'd last seen him on the second floor. She was holding onto a lot of energy right now, previously she had only used it to hit things, but could she do more? It was the energy of movement right? She turned back to the building, facing one of the wide, glassless windows. She focused on it, determined to make it just high enough to enter through the opening. Crouching, she placed her hands on the floor as if preparing for a runners start, then straightened suddenly, jumping and pushing the energy out through her feet at the same time. She tried to hold onto a trickle of the energy, and felt a small pool remain, even as the rest surged through her like a river. She left the ground as if she were simply jumping in place, but then instead of falling back instantly she kept going. She just made it to the window, nearly falling flat on her face as her toe caught the outside of the window ledge, but catching herself before she did anything so undignified. She stood in the window, the dim street light silhouetting her. "Hey fuckers!"

© seadra of gs

[Mason Warner]

Crashing the Masquerade

Satisfied with the way he had dealt with the last remaining guys out in the alley, Spectre watched protectively for a moment as Surge and Duchess arrived on the scene. He waited just long enough to see that Ink was responding before spinning to get back into the action. There was still the sound of fighting down below and Mason wasn’t going to be much use up here on the roof anymore.

He tried the first door he could find but, as a fire escape, he couldn’t find a way to wrench it open from the outside. He kicked it once, a futile attempt, before turning away to sprint the short distance across the roof to try the other fire escape. This one, miraculously, was propped open with a small, rusted metal bar. Maybe there had been squatters here once. It would certainly explain the multitude of discarded cigarette butts.

Taking the bar with him as a makeshift weapon, Spectre slipped through the door and began to head down the stairs, feet sliding against the grime that covered a few of the steps. Nice…

The amazing Spectre descends into the darkness, ready to face the peril that surely awaits behind this door…!

Ah, not that one, there was no one in this little corridor. Maybe behind the next?

Spectre burst into the room to be greeted by no less than three assailants circled around Overwatch, a fourth hanging back; obviously recovering from a recent blow. Paladin was nowhere to be seen, which was concerning, but definitely not the immediate problem at hand.

All four turned as the door swung open, their faces twisted in confusion when the open doorway revealed absolutely nobody at its threshold. Spectre took the opportunity to slip into the room and around the edge of the group. It was a big and open enough space that he didn’t even need to get close. Then, trying to steady his nerves without taking a loud, deep breath, he moved in to defend his friend.

The biggest threat was definitely the bulky guy with the baseball bat, whose look of confusion had faded into a hissed expletive. Spectre recognised him as one of the men who’d witnessed his earlier invisible attacks and watched – amusement barely breaking through the thick layer of adrenaline coursing through Spectre – as the man started towards where he assumed the culprit to the sudden open door was standing.

By extending his leg (a little further than his natural flexibility, or lack thereof, would have liked) Spectre was able to catch the guy mid-step and watched him fall to the ground with an alarmingly heavy thud, chin-first. There was a splattering of blood and Spectre recoiled for a moment before remembering the task at hand. Defend Overwatch.

He moved round to Overwatch’s side and, metal bar in hand, attempted to keep the two more active combatants at bay. It was an easier task than it should have been, considering Spectre’s inexperience, but he was still only barely managing it. Once they’d figured out that it wasn’t an invisible, intangible force hitting them but something that could indeed cry out in pain at an unexpected kick in the knee, they fought with a rejuvenated spirit.

A well-timed swing caught one of them in the side of the neck, allowing for the tiniest of pauses to catch his breath, but the fight was far from over and they were still comfortably outnumbered…

Suddenly a shadow was cast across the room, and everyone’s attention was torn away once more. A bold figure stood in the window, blue hair strangely luminescent thanks to the glow of a street light.

“Paladin!” he exclaimed, too excited to recognise the amazing feat Paladin must have achieved in reaching the window. This was something he would process much later, a sudden gasp of realisation interrupting his attempts to fall asleep.

Will Chase | Dominic Weaver | Persephone Dean | Claire Elliot | Alice Morrow

646 words

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[Will Chase]

Four on one was not a winning scenario for Will, particularly since three of them were armed and he was not. A baseball bat, a crowbar and a length of pipe; a good enough blow from any of them would put him out for the count, quite possibly for good. Will didn't think the doctor would resurrect him again. There's a difference between learning how to fight, and learning how to intimidate, and that difference was the only thing that allowed Will to do as well as he did. Three of his four opponents were armed, and even had they not been the number advantage left the fight firmly in their favour, but none of them knew how to use the weapons they carried properly; they came in with wild swings, blows so obvious that, had he only fought them one at a time, Will probably could've taken them on blindfolded and still avoided most of their attacks. Even the smallest of the four, the one Will had disarmed earlier, was swinging wild haymakers that, even if they hit like battering rams, were so easy to see coming that they might as well have been spitballs. One on one against any of the four, Will would've won handily. But it wasn't one on one, it was four on one, and Will was reminded of that unfortunate fact when he swayed aside to avoid a swing of the crowbar and nearly took a blow from the pipe in the face. The reminder was all the more insistent when he ducked a punch, replying with a quick jab to the man's solar plexus, and the baseball bat caught him in the thigh. The bone didn't break, thankfully, but it did send Will staggering away from the four. He had been right, he had no hope in hell of winning this on his own. Then, suddenly, he wasn't on his own anymore as the door burst open and... nothing happened. Will sagged slightly, if there was going to be a moment for an inspiring arrival by a group of reinforcements, it had just occurred and there was no help to be seen. Then, a glimmer of hope. There was, after all, one absolutely amazing young man that Will had recently become acquainted with, a man with a real talent for avoiding attention. Then baseball bat tripped over nothing, and Will felt that glimmer of hope explode into a burst of new confidence and he advanced on the three standing men. Four on one had been a losing scenario, but now it was four on two, with one of the four winded and the other face down on the floor with, at the very least, a broken nose. Mason's presence was a godsend, for while he was no tougher than any other man the thugs couldn't see him to hit him, so he was able to harass them and keep them from focusing all their attention on Will, who was finally able to leverage his greater experience and training to start turning the course of the fight. Even with Mason's help however, the fight was still close. In that regard, Paladin's arrival was probably the best thing that could've happened, short of the entire SFPD smashing down the front door. In another regard, it was the worst thing that could've happened - while Will, Mason, and three of the thugs were staring at the girl in the wall, the fourth thug swung his crowbar in a devastating blow that smashed into Will's elbow. There was a moment where he didn't quite realise what had happened, then the pain hit. He will win who knows when to fight and when not to fight. Will Chase 605 Words

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[Dominic Weaver]

Surge The best part of “believe” is the “lie”. + Alice Morrow + Mason Warner + Will Chase + Persephone Dean + Claire Elliot

Surge cried out as Alice fell from the roof, starting forward to the point she would hit as if there was anything he could do. He stared in horrified fascination as she fell, unable to tear his eyes away. She looked remarkably peaceful once she hit. There was no horrible noise, her body didn't seem to change. Alice was simply lying on the ground. Then she sat up. He stopped, trying to process what he was seeing. Surely from a fall like that she should at the very least be in tremendous pain. She looked… fine, as if she'd simply fallen onto her bed, not off the side of a building. He backed up as she stood, amazed to find that not only was she alive, but she appeared to be totally unharmed from the fall. He watched in awe as she turned back to the building and suddenly leapt into the air, going far higher than any human should be capable of. She disappeared in through a window higher up on the warehouse. He turned back to Duchess and Ink, he couldn't leave her and Overwatch to fight alone. He reached down beside Ink to pop the hood of her car, then with a heave he managed to wrench the damaged piece of metal away from the engine. He found the battery and placed his fingers over the connections. There was a subtle fizzing noise, then a spark. A moment later he stepped back, electricity running through him. He turned to Duchess. "Can you look after her? I've got to see if I can get in to help the others." Without waiting for an answer Surge turned to go back into the alleyway. He paused at the entrance, seeing a handful of men still there, then he stepped further in, out of sight of the street. There was a hiss then air split with a thunderous crack. Blue light flared out of the alleyway, followed by a series of thumps. Surge glanced at his hands, then back at the three collapsed men. Perhaps he had put a little too much juice into that one, but they were all still breathing, even if one of them was smoking a little. He jogged to the door into the building, looking around to make sure the area was clear before ducking inside to help.

© seadra of gs

[Persephone Dean]

Crashing the Masquerade

Slow to follow Ink’s gaze up to the roof, feeling rather more preoccupied with ensuring that the girl didn’t suddenly collapse, Duchess barely caught Paladin’s fall. It was over in the blink of an eye, Duchess not even having time to add her own voice to Surge’s cry of concern before the young hero hit the ground. A heartbeat later, and the figure was sitting bolt upright.

She’d survived. Unharmed.

If Duchess had been impressed by Paladin’s ability to resist damage before, that was nothing compared to the quiet awe she felt now. What a power! Surely this meant that she was truly indestructible – or close to it. From the look on Paladin’s face as she slowly got to her feet, she was pretty awestruck herself. Clearly she had tumbled rather than leapt from the building.

Duchess was still staring when Paladin cursed suddenly and sprang into action, starting towards the door before freezing, turning to face the side of the building once more, and then pushing herself up from the ground. Impossibly high, floating in a quick, eerie fashion, Paladin soared through an open window on the second floor and addressed whoever was inside. Overwatch, perhaps. Maybe even Spectre – it was hard to know where he was without following the sound of terrible jokes.

Surge made his preparations, extracting power from Ink’s ruined car, before officially dumping the responsibility of looking after her on Duchess’s shoulders and disappearing towards the building with a tell-tale flash of blue light.

At this point, Duchess was very much of the belief that they were going to survive this encounter. She hadn’t fancied their chances when they were first ambushed – both outnumbered and cornered simultaneously – but their powers had worked wonders in the face of traditional weaponry. Surely this would capture the attention of somebody in the know. Someone who could really make use of their abilities, perhaps.

Anyway, Ink was still looking wobbly, the night wasn’t over just yet. Duchess turned to appraise the young woman once more, putting her best sympathetic nurse’s mask on.

“You don’t look too steady,” she said quickly, offering an arm for support. “Here, take the jacket off. You should sit down again before you fall,” she added, really not wanting to have to deal with Ink suddenly collapsing on her. “It looks like you’ve hit your head, I don’t know how much external salve will help that but… I guess it could soothe things. And… huh…!”

With the jacket off and pulling fabric away, Duchess was now able to see the damage, or lack thereof, that the bullet had done to Ink’s shoulder. There was a solidly painful looking welt forming around the area that the bullet should have penetrated the skin but, miraculously, the bullet didn’t seem to have burst through.

This excursion was turning out to be quite the test for the team’s two more durable members. It was quite fortunate, really, Duchess thought to herself. Better them than her – her power wasn’t particularly advantageous when it came to speeding bullets and plummets from rooftops.

“This has maybe dug in a little, but I can definitely heal this,” Duchess said quickly, unscrewing the lid to a bottle of healing salve. Then, without warning, she plucked the bullet from Ink’s shoulder and instantly applied a palmful of salve to the area. She kept her hand pressed there, willing her concoction to work.

Duchess watched Ink for a reaction, partially in order to make sure she was still conscious. “How does it feel?” she asked, intrigued rather than concerned. Then she pulled her hand away, hopeful, and studied her handiwork.

Claire Elliot | Alice Morrow | Mason Warner | Dominic Weaver | Will Chase

604 words

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[Deleted]

WORDS: 652

TAGS: The whole gang.

She joined Dominic in calling out to Alice when she fell from the roof's trim, albeit a bit slower in reaction than him, and took jogged forward a wobbly step as if it'd do anything for her to get just that foot or so closer. It took a moment to catch her balance as her weight shifted from one side to the other - arms prepping at her sides for any tip - and the next she saw when she was able to look confidently back up Alice was standing where she'd just fallen. Like she'd stuck some insane, world record setting gymnastics release.

Claire had no idea how long she'd been standing and staring as her brain tried to catch up with what on earth might've just happened to make that possible, the words behind her from Dominic just a low mumble in her head. The crunching sound of metal was what made her turn around again to see him prying away a piece of her hood to set his hands along the battery. "Hey, careful," she warned tiredly, a frown on her face. She wanted to be worried and step after him to get him to think more cautiously just out of initial protective reaction but the two words were really all she could come up with. Just as well, really, since someone that could absorb energy didn't exactly need to tiptoe around a car battery.

Her eyes tried to keep up with him but moved with lethargy as he ran past them and towards the building. She wanted to help, wanted to chase after and make sure Alice wasn't hurt and just putting on a tough face. But the thought went away in a second with the inability to firmly hang onto it when Persephone spoke to her. "You don’t look too steady," "Yeah," she looked down at her own feet like she'd somehow see them tipping and turning as a reason to why she felt a lack of balance. Nope... just plain ol' regular boots.

Looking up from her shoes to the arm extended to her, Claire offered a thankful expression. It certainly helped to have something grounded to use as a minor railing while finding the flat piece of the hood Dominic had bent. It wasn't exactly effortless to sit up without anything supporting her from the sides or back, but she figured it was a safer bet than trying to sit lower in the driver's seat again with the risk of just toppling in. With a scrunched face at the ache in her shoulder, she slid the jacket off along with Persephone's help. "Steering wheel I think..." she nodded, desperately wanting to keep her head down rather than lift it back up. Everything just felt so heavy. Not that it particularly hurt, just like she'd been up for days and was finally crashing. "Hm?..." the other girl's surprise hit Claire late and she looked down to the bullet that had caught her attention. Dug in, bruised with one hell of a color pallet, but not through her. "Oh." Great reaction.

The shock and surprise would come later, but for now it was all she could do to sit up and wait. "We should probably call the police-...Ah!" she hissed at the feeling of the object release from her and looked back to the empty area of only slightly-bleeding skin in a thin ring at the center of the welt. The image barely lasted a split second before the medicine was pressed into the wound of her bony shoulder, making her discomforted face remain until, slowly but surely, it began to tingle with a numbing and cooling sensation. "Better. Wow... Yeah, better..." she exhaled a large sigh of relief and let her head hang to shut her eyes. For just a moment. "Thanks."

NOTES: Minor battle scar. Relieved and sleepy.
WEARING: Here.

＃ENY ADOXOGRAPHY