Nobody

Don't you know who I think I am?

+ @lukaspope

Jack had not expected to find themselves suddenly flying, no, falling upwards. That was where they found themselves however, crashing into the ceiling with a grunt of pain and ending up in an undignified heap on the… ceiling. After a moment of contemplation on the hard surface they pushed themselves to their feet, standing upright, and upside down, on the ceiling.

They certainly weren't impressed when the looked up to see Anna with a hand over her mouth and a twinkle in her eyes. Jack scowled at the indignity, but at least their theory was developing. Types of abilities did not seem to be an issue, Anna was able to do this as well as utilise a blaster ability only a few weeks ago. It had also only taken her a few moments to start utilising the power, some additional sense that informed her on how to use her new ability? Or perhaps it was just a simple ability to visualise.

"Ow." They rubbed ruefully at their forearms, which had taken most of the impact. "Thank you for the warning. Can you tell when it's going to run out? Or do you have any idea how long it lasts?"

Nobody

Don't you know who I think I am?

+ CBE-177/"Anna"

Teaching 177 sign language had been an unusual stroke of genius for Coryelle. Jack had learnt it some years ago on a whim. They would have taught it to 177 themself, but didn't have the patience to actually do so. It was fortunate that Cory understood ASL well enough to pass it onto 177, and that 177 was a quick learner. Still, using a phone might have become very irritating very rapidly.

Jack answered as they dug through the box. "Morning. You can clean up, but there might be more cleanup required afterwards. It seems wasteful to do so twice." There were a few things in there, mostly things that they were planning on using, but also a few things that they'd packed just in case they came in useful. Jack usually packed things that might just come in useful. They frequently didn't.

They eventually found what they were looking for, their long fingers brushing, then fastening on the slick, cold plastic they were looking for. They pulled it out, several more plastic bags spilled out onto the tabletop. Each of them was cold, condensation beading on their surface, and each one was filled with blood, the dark red liquid moving thickly within the transparent bags.

"Shit."

Jack grumbled, before sorting through the different bags. They'd acquired them, somewhat questionably, from the MNRU. Each of them was from a confirmed metahuman, and Jack definitely shouldn't have it. A little creative coding had seen their delivery redirected to a PO box owned by Jack. Eventually they found a suitable one, turning to face the old Soviet super-weapon. "So, would you rather drink from a mug? Or just straight from the bag?"

Nobody

Don't you know who I think I am?

+ Isaiah Moore

+ wearing

The other metahuman was panicking, Jack could hear it in his voice. Not without reason as well, the sound of sirens was now uncomfortably close. Jack had not yet been pulled by the San Francisco police department, for which they counted themselves lucky. Or would have done had they not been too arrogant to believe in their own luck. They certainly didn't want to be picked up by them now. Getting out of that situation would be easy, but no doubt word would make it back to their father, and that would be far too much of an embarrassment to bear.

"Longer to shrink, sounds about right."

Jack sounded exasperated and impatient, which was appropriate. Now was not an ideal moment to be wasting time waiting for an animal to shrink. Not with Paladin and a dozen cops on their way to accost them. Fortunately, they should still be heading in the direction of the original commotion. Jack had been too busy holding on for dear life to pay too much attention to their surroundings, but they hadn't seen any gawping passers-by on their hair-raising journey across the rooftops. It was late, and so the streets around here were far from busy. Still, someone must have seen them, and so no doubt it was only a matter of time until the authorities were turned in their direction.

"Hmmmmm?"

They looked up from the deflating dog, some kind of exoskeleton like transformation perhaps? They had been lost in thought when Isaiah spoke, not really listening or paying attention to what was going on around them. Lights had indeed turned down to approach them and Jack pulled a face, they had thought they would have more time before the police found them. They were accompanied by a young meta and a dog that was clearly still far beyond its natural size. Talking their way out of this one would probably be a stretch.

They pulled the other device from their pocket. The one they had been keeping as a backup in the warehouse. This really was experimental, they'd never actually tested it, and they were purely relying on it working first time. Hopefully all of the theory work and calculations that had gone into creating this device would pay off.

"Play along."

Without further explanation the slender teen creamed and started running away from the young man and his pet, stumbling out into the road and right into the path of the police car. The officer behind the wheel reacted instantly, his eyes wide with surprise as he spun the wheel and slammed on the brakes. With a screech the car came to a halt, just close enough for Jack to place a hand on hood of the car and point back towards their companion.

"He's a fucking maniac."

Their voice was high, panicked, feminine. The two officers looked at each other in faint amusement and then growing concern as the spotted the mound of flesh that had been a dog. The passenger started to open his door, then the device that Jack had slapped onto the hood of the car finally turned on.

The door slammed shut with enough force that it rocked the officer back into his seat. The second one tried his door, only to find it similarly immovable. The small device Jack had placed against the hood of the car was whining, a high pitched, insistent sound, and the electromagnetic current that was now running through the car body made it impossible to open the doors or even for the men inside to aim their weapons. One of them tried, pulling the gun from its holster only to find it irresistibly attracted to the side door. A fortunate side effect of the device was that it seemed to have shut down their radio as well, as evidence when one of them bounced the small plastic device off the dashboard in frustration.

Jack smiled, waved, then backed up. Their phone would take care of the dash and body cams, so they had no qualms in being a little smug. They walked back to the older meta. "So we have about three minutes. Your dog ready yet?"

Nobody

Don't you know who I think I am?

+ Isaiah Moore

+ wearing

Jack rolled their eyes. Unfortunately it seemed that even if they were successful tonight, adding Isaiah to their collection would not provide them with any sparkling wit. You'd think out of three metahumans at least one of them would be able to hold a conversation. 177 was mute, and Coryelle had far too many insecurities. Even on a good day Jack found them boring within a few minutes. Unless Cory was working, there was at least some satisfaction in watching a tool well wielded.

"Dynamite?"

The mocking disbelief was obvious in Jack's voice. They waggled their hand in the direction of the other meta. "You see this? Still attached. If I'd used dynamite I would be dead right now. That and the amount I'd have needed to lift your pet would probably have put a hole in the wall as well. What is it? Nearly two tons?"

They walked a little closer, like the teenager they were, they walked with a perpetual slouch, hands in their pockets. They'd lost their cap in the chaos and their hair was messy and unkempt, slightly greasy from too long without a proper wash. They were pale, not quite waxy, but clearly spent far too much time in front of a computer monitor and out of the sunlight. They seemed entirely in control of the situation, still out of breath, but no longer flustered or concerned.

Jack mused over the fact that they were still out of breath, perhaps if they were going to plan more outings like this they should engage in more cardio. They'd been knocked over, not gone for a five mile run.

A faint pinging noise broke the silence, and Jack held up one finger to pause the conversation, pulling out a phone from their pocket. It had a similar appearance to the device they had used to throw the dog back across the room, half finished and still at a prototype stage, although this device was always in a constant state of flux, having improvements, upgrades or refinements applied at least weekly, if not daily. It was something of a damning inditement of Jack's generation that the phone was their longest lasting obsession.

They turned the screen so Isaiah could see the screen, and the alarm pulsing on it. "That's the cops, they'll be here relatively soon, which gives us two options. Either we continue arguing here and get arrested when they arrive, no doubt bringing a Hero or two" They checked the screen of the phone. "Yup, looks like Paladin is on her way."

They continued as though this wasn't a concern, "Or I can help you release these dogs and we can continue this conversation elsewhere. I can explain how I wasn't here for the fighting and how I was just here for you."

They shrugged, "If we're arrested I'll be out in six hours, somehow I doubt that will be the case for you. And who know what they'll do to your dog."

They glanced over at the cages still full of dogs. "So, shall we?"

Clearly the idea that Isaiah might disagree hadn't occurred to them.

Nobody

Don't you know who I think I am?

+ Isaiah Moore

Climbing on top of the kegs had been a bad idea thought Jack as they threw themselves out of the way of the lethal intentions of the enormous dog. They added nearly three feet to the height of their fall, and Jack was hardly accustomed to physical exertion at the best of times, let alone under duress.

They hit the floor hard, all of their breath flying out of them. Unfortunately, the cylinder in their hand decided now would be a good time to do the same thing, clattering away across the floor. They swore and scrabbled after it, before the dogs snout caught them a glancing blow and threw them against the wall. Before they had been gasping for air, now Jack felt like they were suffocating. It was like being caught a glancing blow by a car.

They slid down the wall, fortunately the blow had been indirect enough that it didn’t seem to have broken anything and they hadn’t lost consciousness. Or unfortunately, as the dog recovered with alarming speed and turned it’s unwelcome attention towards the slight figure propped up against the wall.

Without thinking Jack’s hand went to their pocket, pulling out the device that was supposed to be for emergencies, but then if this wasn’t an emergency then they didn’t know what was. After all, their initial plan was lying several feet away, and a rampaging dog monster was coming their way, with no mercy in those mad eyes.

There was a click, almost lost amidst the screams, groans and roars of the warehouse, then the dog, over a ton of solid muscle and bone, was flying through the air. The end of the cylinder was open now, with faint wisps of vapour escaping from it. Unfortunately the device was a one shot, Jack could see that the dog, while clearly stunned, was already clambering back to it’s feet.

It was enough time to retrieve the other device they had brought with them however, and they scrambled undignifiedly across the floor before scooping it up and holding it above their head. They called out, their voice hoarse and weak after the successive blows they had endured. "I think we should end this here don't you?"

They were speaking directly to the metahuman stood across the room.

Nobody

Don't you know who I think I am?

+ Isaiah Moore

There had been complaints, reports and rumours for some time about a metahuman that wasn't actually human. A dog that was the size of an SUV. It was preposterous of course, Jack knew better than most that animals did not develop abilities. Why that was had been unclear, but some aspect of metahuman abilities meant that they never manifested in less intelligent creatures.

No, this dog was either a shifter, or was being manipulated by someone that could affect it's size. The former was more likely. Shifters were fairly common forms of metahumans, in one way or another, but Jack had a hunch that something was different in this case. Information so far had been relatively scarce, which suggested two things. One, this person didn't really know what they were doing, they were fighting crime when they saw it, mostly without rhyme or reason. And two, there was something more complicated than a shifter involved. The police had wised up to shifters real fast, when something walks into an alleyway and a guy walks out whistling innocently, it's probably cause he just changed form in there.

Jack had been able to piece together various pieces of information however, and was fairly certain whoever it was would be here tonight.

Stepping back carefully, Jack avoided the heavy footsteps of a burly man who threw them a dirty look. It was not totally unexpected, Jack didn't exactly fit in here. They were short, skinny, and clearly much younger than the majority of the clientele of this particular establishment. Though calling it an establishment was probably a little generous. Come to think of it, calling the men here a clientele was a little generous.

The aroma of body odour, sour beer and wet dog filled the space, a large room dominated by the pit that had been constructed in the centre of the floor. Jack had been moderately surprised to discover that this business was still operating, they rarely paid much attention to anything as pedestrian as dog fighting. Even so, underground metahuman fights seemed to be the current trend, not dog fights.

They held a beer in their hand, though they hadn't drank any of it they had found a dim corner to pour out half of it on the floor to make sure they didn't attract too much unwanted attention. Finding an out of the way location Jack settled in to wait, wondering whether their prey would turn up tonight, and whether they would do so by battering down the wall, or by sneaking in as a potential contestant. They wrinkled their nose, they'd almost taken a sip of the beer.