Earth

Most people when they wanted to get away, had some sort of treehouse or hang out to go to. But Dylan wasn't most people, Dylan Hunt was Dylan Hunt. And on that fact, he wasn't normal. No, he was psychic.

Which is why he was hanging off the side of a cliff, rappelling down one of the largest mountains in the world, covered head to toe in snow gear. There was one hundred feet between him and solid ground, and he liked it that way. That is when he heard a familiar voice. "You really think it was that difficult to find you?"

All of a sudden, the side of the mountain he was rappelling down became the ground, and he fell face first into the rock. When he got up, Dylan saw John standing in front of him. "You realize how dangerous this is, right?"

"John! Just let me finish, okay? I have one hundred more feet. And I needed a break, away from everything and everyone".

"And what about your brother and father?"

"I had a way back".

"Well, we need to go now" John told him, grabbing his hand and phasing them both back to the New York branch for the Psychic Order. Dylan quickly took off his snow gear.

"What could be so important you couldn't wait two minutes?"

They were in a large, underground room. The psychic headquarters for the New York State. It was made of stone, metal, wires, and psi energy. There was an above ground portion as well. It was disguised as a psychiatric building. Below ground was housing, the armory, the weapon smith, rec rooms, ops room, war room, training rooms, vehicle depot, and other assortment of rooms. Not every psychic lived down there, but Next Gens from out of state would take rooms there and those in state were encouraged to as well. Orphaned psychics also often took rooms there.

The facility was even built with its own underground apple orchard and farms. It had a singular shower room, and two private showers. Bathrooms were located upstairs. And each bed room had two beds. Dylan shared his room with his brother. The base could have been built a bit better. Maybe offer a bit more privacy, but this concept was foreign to many psychics. Due to their psychic powers, especially those with telepathy and empathy, they felt connected, shared. Most objects in the building were shared and borrowed by all the psychics. Not all psychics have this feeling, but most do. Empaths especially, as they feel what others feel around them. Though, at least this meant psychics never had trouble sharing toys when they are younger.

Dylan followed John into an Ops room. "Three breakouts on the same day. We have three potential ghosts. All three in our area. We have to get them before they go into hiding. And you are just going to love where..."

John brought up three locations. "A subway station in New York City. An Elementary school field trip went down there, next thing we know, five minutes later, there are people hanging from the ceiling by the electrical wiring. Unknown number of casualties. This has a top priority though, because one of the kids, Karen Blair, is one of us. A psychic. The teacher we can't telepathically reach, she was Karen's mom, but Karen is scared and panicked. And she is next gen".

Dylan was focused now. Dylan partially hated John, thought he was a dictator, but he cared about all psychics. Just another example of the connection. "What powers?"

"Karen has Vortex, Mass Healing, and regular telekinesis". Dylan had a clear expression of worry. Psychics who lost emotional control with Vortex could be devastating. Almost as much as his weather control. We need you to go in with another two psychics, and handle the situation. Nala Clark and Danielle Leiber. You and Nala will hunt the ghost, but we need someone to calm the girl down, and Dani is an empath. She can handle herself just fine in combat as well, but her empathy will allow her to help the girl, as well as any other victim".

"The other two?"

"At least one ghost is terrorizing a Lawfirm in Albany. Surprised we don't get more of those. Their boss defended someone accused of raping a girl, and the girl committed suicide because she lost. The other one is rumors of teens disappearing inside an old house. Probably a false alarm or a prank, but this house has had a history and we have yet to have a confirmed cleansing".

"Fine, I will get ready to go then. If you need me, you know how to find me" he said, heading to the armory.

(Posting May begin! Tagged everyone who currently has a character to signal this! :D)

It was quiet in the armory, something Nala had always taken peace in. The housing area always seemed loud and crowded, but she almost never left her room anymore. She slowly moved throughout the room as if in a dream, her hand grazing across certain objects. She picked up her rifle, testing the weight and gingerly touching the sight before placing it on the bench in front of her. She took a deep breath and began to gather her protective gear. She found a soundproof headset that fit comfortably and kept it around her neck then grabbed a pair of safety glasses and pushed them up above her hairline.

She picked up a belt and suddenly felt sick to her stomach. She tried to ignore it, putting the belt on and attaching a small knife in its sheath. The feeling kept nagging at her, though, and she had to shake her head to try and refocus herself. She moved to pick out an ammo vest and the sickening feeling finally overtook her. She ran to the trashcan and dry heaved a few times before shakily pulling back. She hadn't eaten dinner last night or breakfast this morning; she hadn't felt like it and now she was glad she hadn't. She slowly and shakily walked back to the ammo vest she'd chosen and pulled it on, fingering the fabric gently and swallowing hard as she began to fill it with the correct ammunition.

Why had she even allowed herself to be pulled into this mission...?

Walking across the dimly light street of New York, the abandoned buildings lining its sides, Tony looked side from side. Something was feeling wrong, but he couldn't place it. He had been squatting in a nearby building for a week now, and was getting ready to leave tomorrow when a feeling of evil hit him like a baseball. Now he was trying to find its source.

Then he could feel it like a perfect prick. Tony was not empathetic, but he could feel the evil of ghosts, almost as if he had some kind of organ for it, but just like an organ, it was not perfectly precise. He could get a pretty good general area, and the house stunk of what he could sense.

The house was the oldest on the block, often the spot for 'ghost hunters' and brave teenagers trying to prove themselves. It could not have been just one, no. It had to be more. Tony spotted a small opening in the fence that must have been used by the teenagers.

Going through the opening, Tony put a hand on his blade's handle. It was under his cloak, which made people nervous enough without the sword. He slowly approached the back door, constantly watching his sides and back. Drawing his sword, he smashed the rusty old lock, then slowly opening the door with a loud creek. Sword in hand, fire in the other, Tony slowly strode into the house.

From the corner of his eye, the form of a crying teenage girl shot up. It came at him, fingers being wielded like claws, the smell of evil radiating from its form. Tony stepped off to the side, bringing his sword up so that the ghost's momentum loped off its own head. That could not have been it. The ghost was far too recent to have been the source.

Alex was fighting a headache, sitting in his room while he paged through his PDA, files dancing before his eyes. Granted, this didn't help with his headache much at all, but he had no plans to let that stop him from doing what he wanted. There wasn't even anything specific he was looking for at the moment, he was just passing time until his headache faded and he could stand going out of his room and grabbing some gear before moving out. It was all part of his normal routine, or as normal as he could manage to establish on a daily basis in his life these days. Granted, this did make things less stressful which did help on his mental capacity and avoidance of the migraines and such that plagued him, usually. Not today, it seemed, as he kept ignoring the headache toth e level best of his ability. He hadn't had the sheer illness a lot of other people seemed to get hit with frequently for almost a week, just fluctuating headaches and a few migraines, coupled with the odd outbreak of bleeding, but otherwise it wasn't too bad. He was probably overdue, but he took it for what it was right now.

The immediate headache had faded to where he felt confident enough to go out and about the compound without descending immediately into a borderline debilitating migraine, so he closed the browsing session he had been going through, dumping it into one of his coat pockets as he stood up slowly, stretching and pulling his coat tight around him before leaving his room, locking it behind him as he left. No need to openly invite people to sift through his already meager belongings, no need to have them disappear on him. Walking the open throughways, he ignored the chatting psychics and other foot traffic between him and the armory. He didn't even really have any idea what the mission involved, only that he had to grab his gear and get ready for trouble, to use quaint terms. Walking into the armory, it was blessedly quiet, the only other person of note was a female that was already geared up. He couldn't place a name to a face, but that rarely meant much. He was terrible with names on most cases, but he could be polite without a name.

"Good afternoon, evening, whatever it may be right now." Being polite seemed to get him by in this place more often than not, so he tried to make a conscious effort and not silently stone wall everyone. He had made a beeline for the weapons locker while offering his greeting, where his .22 pistol was stowed away, grabbing it alongside several magazines which were all dumped into his pockets, barring the pistol. That he did some rudimentary checks on to make sure that it wasn't completely screwed up. He wasn't a gun nut, not by any sense of the imagination, so his knowledge boiled down to point, shoot, and hope to hit something. It worked, sometimes. Dumping that into one of his pockets as well, he sat down on a bench, producing his PDA again and surfing the news networks for possible ideas about what this unknown mission would entail today.

"Psh. A knife can't beat a sword." One of the students said, muttered. However, with every psychic comes great hearing, and the instructor knew who it was. Ah yes, one of the hotshots of the class. The instructor thought. It was the middle of the new Psychics' weapons training program. As with other types of classes, the students were never the same. Some intelligent, some failing but trying their best, some were quiet and shy (which leads to more awkward moments for them when the instructor calls them up for a demonstration), and some, like this one young man, were overly confident and cocky. The instructor eyed the smirking boy that casually leaned back on his chair before continuing his monologue.

"In a battle, a person wielding even something as small as a knife can beat a sword user. Some ghosts, particularly those that belong to former soldiers or warriors, still use them in conjunction with their own powers. Thus, it is necessary to realize the full potential, as well as limits, of a weapon in order to fully utilize it in battle. Like I had said before, a wise user with a knife can easily dispatch one with a sword."

The boy snickered again. "Is there something wrong, Mr. Brown?"

"I can't see someone with a knife being able to defeat someone else, especially with a sword." The boy got out as he chuckled. "It's just impossible!" The instructor, as well as the class, all stared at him as he had his laughs for now. Of course, the boy was just about to get picked by karma as the victim involved with the irony of the day.

Damion Howard was, at the time, walking in the hallway. He had nothing better to do than to just walk around the headquarters, waiting for some kind of mission to call him in. There were books in his room, yes, but he wasn't exactly in on the reading mood. So, this caused a fated event to occur- Damion heard the boy laughing about a knife not being able to beat the sword. His location? The room right next to him. Sighing, Damion grabbed the doorknob and opened the door, staring at the class who froze at the young adult's appearance. It wasn't surprising in this circumstance because, well, Psychics had a shorter expected life span than other humans because of their dangerous jobs. "So, what exactly did I hear about knives not being able to beat swords?" Damion said, his voice casual, but somehow carried a tone that somewhat intimidated the new students.

"Well, Mr. Howard." The instructor said. "Mr. Brown thinks that a sword will always beat a knife, and laughed about it."

"Ah. I see." Damion sighed. "Well, then, Mr. Brown. I have a knife and a sword can be supplied to you. Do you think you'd beat me in a 5 out of 9 match?" Damion tilted his head. The boy's eyes widened before he regained his composure, shaking his head.

"Y-yeah!" The boy said with conviction. Ah, to be young again. Damion mentally sighed.

"Well then," he said. "Let's see how a fight would go." The class gasped and, before anyone could come out of shock, Damion led the entire class to the sparring area. On the way, the boy picked up his sword, grinning as inevitable victory would come.

---

"Ow...."

"So, class. What have we learned today?" Damion smiled, intimidating the class again as he sheathed the knife inside his black coat. Of course, the more experienced psychic won, not losing a single drop of sweat as the score turned 5 to 0 in Damion's favor. 5 times the boy had to yell "I yield" as he obtained defensive cuts all over his forearms, though not too deep.

"'If you know your weapon better than the opponent knows his, you will win.'" The class recited the instructor's first line in the lesson today. Damion couldn't help but chuckle as he saw their expressions as their fellow peer was beaten 5 times consecutively with a weapon smaller than his. Much smaller. Of course, size doesn't really matter as long as you can properly use it in a more skillful manner than your opponent could do.

"... Good. Class dismissed." Damion said before he walked out of the classroom. That only killed approximately half an hour of his time before he had to walk around the headquarters again.

Dani sat at the empty wooden table in the dining room. Her mother had left to run errands and her father was at work. Her eyes stared down at the table in front of her. A meow drew her attention to the entryway. The cat her parents had bought her a few months ago entered the room with urgency. Dani could feel it as the cat approached. I don't like this. The cat not only gives off emotion, but it sends off a... feeling that translates into words I can understand.

The cat jumped up on the table and meowed in Dani's face. She raised an eyebrow. "Yes, Prue?" she asked the fluffy Maine Coon in front of her. Prudence gave off her vibes that translated into directed thoughts. Dani could feel what the cat was saying to her. "I'm not going to kill an owl just so you can run around freely at night. Why don't you just stay indoors at night?" she asked. Prudence's ears went flat against her head and she jumped the table to walk away. That cat...

Dani stood up from the table and readjusted the sword sheath on her back. She almost always had it with her. A moment without it left her vulnerable and she couldn't have that. Her abilities didn't leave her with much defense. Let's see. If I get attacked, I can feel my attacker's emotions, I can heal... myself? And I can talk to any animals nearby. Yup. Life-saving.

A young teenage male was running through the streets of the city, chasing a ghost. His pistol was loaded and in his hand, ready to shoot the ghost. He used a modified Sar K-2P 9mm pistol. The ghost he was chasing, wasn't a ghost he was ordered to kill, but one that he happened to stumble upon. To Jacob's surprise, the first three shots had missed, which had caused them to go on a chase, through the gettos He was getting the dirtiest looks from the people living there. One of occupants had heard the shots and called the cops to figure out what was going on.

Jacob chased the ghost through yawns and alleys, and even some old buildings. He came upon the neighborhood in which the ghost ran into and carefully walked around. His pistol was held at the ready, and his eyes were carefully examining everything, just incase the ghost tried to surprise him. It wasn't long before Jacob heard sirens and the lights flash behind him. Mumbling under his breathe, Jacob stood up straight, he tried not to laugh but it was too hard. Jacob quickly took out his phone and called headquarters.

"Headquarters, i'm getting arrested. Send someone to get me out." Jacob said quickly and then hung up. "Put the gun down and your hands up." an officer called out. Jacob slowly sat his pistol down, and raised his arms. He followed the instructions of the officers as they told them. After a few minutes, Jacob was handcuffed, and placed in the backseat of the cruiser. 'They won't let me live this down.' Jacob thought to himself. All he wanted was to watch a soccer game, but instead he got into a chase with a ghost, and arrested.

John had quickly received the call. He went over to the tech department and had them trace the call. By the time John teleported over there, he could see the cruiser leaving. Now, he just had to get Jacob out without hurting any humans. It was the one thing John couldn't do, kill or even hurt humans. He knew they had to defend themselves from the Government, but still. His humanity wouldn't let him.

He figured out a good course of action. He telekineticly made a stop sign fling itself in front of the cop czar. They stopped to get out, and as they did this John teleported into the car, pulled Jacob's weapon toward him with telekinesis, then teleported them both out and back into the middle of headquarters. "Jacob, mind telling me how you managed to get arrested?"

John then looked over at the ops. "Hope you didn't have too much fun. We have three possible ghosts this morning, and you are joining me for the third. He then sent a text message to Dani, informing her about the op with Dylan and Nala. Finally, he sent a message to everyone to assemble in the ops room. He would teleport everyone to their mission sites, and then his own team to his.

Dylan meanwhile met up with Nala and Alex in the armory. "You guys hear yet? Three ghosts this morning already, so I guess this will be a busy day. Nala, you are with me on the subway one with Dani". He then added something. "Managed to nearly get down the whole mountain before John found me. I am getting faster". At this point, everyone would receive the notification from John.

Dani stood up from the dining room table. She couldn't take sitting there anymore. I need to find something to do. Her eyes scanned the hall as she walked through it. It was almost as if she expected the home decor to spark an idea in her. She smiled to herself. Silly, as usual.

A light vibration in Dani's pocket informed her that she had received a text. She sighed and reached into her pocket to grab her basic flip phone. The text was from John. Apparently she was needed to work with Dylan and Nala. How nice of them to find a way to make me useful. I guess it's better than nothing. She readjusted the sword on her back, checked her throwing knives, and headed toward the door.

It didn't take Dani long to drive to the headquarters. She stepped inside the building and stopped to text her mom. "Hey. I was called out to do a mission. Just letting you know in case you get home before I do." Then she continued to the armory where she found Dylan, Nala, and Alex. "Hey guys," she said, announcing her arrival.

"Morning. It's morning right now," Nala mumbled to Alex, fumbling to fill in the correct ammo and almost dropping some as her phone buzzed in her pocket. She finished sorting the ammo and readjusted the vest before fishing the phone out of her pocket as Dylan came in. Just a text from John. A text about the mission. She swallowed hard, trying to fight the emotions bubbling up inside her like a storm. She didn't even hear Dylan until he said her name, to which she gave a slight nod of response. She took a few steadying breaths and finally turned to look at Dylan, forcing a thin smile. "You'll be scaling whole ranges before he finds you soon enough..." she replied softly.

Inwardly, Nala hated how distant her voice had sounded from both of them. She hated how she was keeping a wall up between herself and everyone else in the complex. She'd had good friends once, close friends who had tried to help her through things...Now everyone was practically a stranger. She kept everyone at arms' length. She sighed softly and moved to pick up her rifle. "Hi," she replied to Dani without a glance. She didn't really want to linger here with them...but she definitely didn't want to go to the Ops room without them, either. She decided on just standing with her rifle until they made the first move, even though she felt a little awkward about it.

"Ahh, apologies. Good morning then." Unsurprising, the one option he had failed to mention would, in fact, prove to be the very one that he should have chosen to use. He didn't pay close enough attention to the time of day, it seemed, if he was that drastically off. The message on the mission interrupted his searching, which prompted a slight, brief frown on his face. Brief, because it did prove relevant to what he had been doing after all. Dylan walked in, making comments about scaling all over mountains and such. To each his own, Alex supposed, he wouldn't consider going out much even if he had the ability to just warp everywhere. But three ghosts, and apparently teams were already organized. Interesting, to put it mildly. He responded calmly, returning his visual attention to the PDA, resuming his search for background before the brief. "Morning, and the message was received. Work is work, regardless of numbers."

Another girl walked in, making a general greeting as well. Seemed everyone was waltzing in at the same time, then. Closing out the search on his PDA and pocketing it, in a different pocket than his pistol, he nodded towards the most recent arrival, not really feeling like repeating a morning greeting again. They were to report to the Ops room, and he was geared up already, so no need to waste time waiting around. He started towards the door, hands finding their places in his coat pockets, making an offhand comment as he left. "No sense waiting around, I imagine. Ghosts won't hunt themselves." An inevitable requirement of their lot in life, there seemed to be a never ending stream of ghosts, products of needless deaths that sometimes, caused by ghosts, spawned more of their kind. It reminded him of the problem that zombie flicks posed to humans. Zombies kill and grow in numbers, humans kill and all they get is a corpse. Hopefully, like many of the zombie flicks, the psychics would prevail and survive. Shaking the morbid thoughts, he left the armory door open for the others to leave of their own volition, whether immediately after him or following him in due time, and he would make a beeline for the ops room, to await the brief.

As the psychic walked through the hallways, Damion received a text message to get to the briefing room of the headquarters. Well, at least fate has my hands moving again... Damion thought as he turned around a few corners of the hallways. Having memorized the layout of the HQ already, it was pretty easy as to finding his way to the briefing room. Of course, this didn't mean that it would take some time in order to get to the destination that he needed. While fate allowed him to get his hands moving in work, it also got his feet moving all across the entire HQ to get to his desired destination.

Grabbing the knob and turning it, Damion pushed the door open as he entered the HQ briefing (or ops, as some call it) room. "Morning." Damion said as he shut the door behind him. "We have either a large-scale mission, or a few smaller-scale missions to be briefed on, assuming the number of people in this room currently?" Psychics usually didn't work in high numbers when it comes to missions. The people in this place usually used up to a maximum of 3, which is a good number for a small mission as most humans, save for those in the government, are not aware of ghosts. After all, the presence of ghost are needed to be kept a secret. The sudden appearance of one in the public media is sure to have everyone asking questions and theorizing the absolute worst. Hell, Damion could imagine religions all trying to convert all the people with the spirits as proof, the conspiracy theorists... well, you know, theorizing all kinds of hypotheses including secret government experiences, but the worst would've been everyone blaming it all on the psychics.

Either way, the situation would've been horrible, to say the least. A large-scale mission of 5 psychics is highly improbably, but still possible. You just needed a large group of ghosts gathered in one place, one that's too much for the normal number to be dispatched into. "Though, I take it to be multiple smaller missions?" Damion asked, looking around the room to see who had arrived before him.

Jacob sat patiently in the cop car, when he saw the stop sign fly infront of them. He let a small smile escape before hiding it when John appeared. Jacob waited until they were in the op room before saying anything. He didn't want to say anything and take the chance they are over heard. "Well, I was on my way to a soccer game, and when I was only a few minutes away, I heard a scream and then silence, so I went to check it out. That's when I found a ghost leaving the scene of a death. I guess my pistol was heard and the cops were called. I chased the ghost to an abandoned warehouse and before I could go in, the cops caught me.....can I have my pistol back?" Jacob explained.

He watched as people in the ops room worked on the briefing they were about to get. Right before someone else entered, Jacob heard John tell him about a mission and that they were to be on the same team. Jacob rolled his eyes a bit, Jacob liked working with others his age, and more importantly friends. Jacob wasn't very tall, nor average height for his age, he was a bit shorter, but he was fast and able to hold his own in a fight.

"Hopefully" Dylan noted, grabbing his own weapons. He then grabbed some high caliber bullets to go for it instinctively, before turning around. "Hopefully this will go smoothly. Il see you all in ops".

When everyone got to Ops, John started explaining the situation. "Dylan, Nala, and Dani, your on the subway mission. Find the hostages if they are still alive, keep everything calm, deal with the ghosts, then clean the site. And be careful, there are still plenty about ghosts we don't know. Damion and Alex, you going after a ghost terrorizing a law firm. Unknown if there are any casualties left, but a chair got flung out a window and made it to the other side of the street, so it sounds like ghost telekinesis. Remember to make sure the site is cleaned when done. Jacob will be going with me to deal with a Haunted House. Looks like we missed one because according to records we have no official cleaning yet. I have people on all three sites keeping humans away, we just need to go in and deal with it. Now unless you have any questions, let's move".

(Weird how the site was down for so long, right?)

Nala trailed after the others, occasionally swallowing hard or closing her eyes and taking deep breaths. She felt like a wreck, and when John went over the mission details she grew lightheaded. This was the moment...the last moment she would have to rethink everything and go back on her word. The other two were capable; she wasn't. If she just backed out now, they could find a replacement. Someone else good with hostage protection.

Nala sighed softly, moving towards Dylan and Dani. Of course, she'd been asked for reason. Apparently, they needed her skill set on this particular mission and she couldn't let her doubts and fears stop her...Not when a psychic's life could be on the line. A little psychic trying to survive the horrors around her...Nala hugged her rifle closer to her chest and mentally prepared herself for transport. "Ready." She didn't want to give herself time to change her mind.

Alex was silent, not having a real chance to answer any of the commentary put forth before the briefing began in proper. When it came down to him, he looked at the older man who was leading the pair into fighting this renegade ghost. Damion looked well over ten years his superior, which meant nothing in the boy's mind other than he would be put in technical charge of the mission. So be it, then, he could play the willing soldier. The others were given their marching orders, a subway hostage situation and some unknown mess with some haunted house. Quite the mixture of things to deal with today, it seemed. Approaching the older man, he looked upwards, being shorter than the man, and raised an eyebrow, hands jammed into his pockets. "Several smaller missions it seems. Whenever your ready, Mr. Damion."

Alex left his voice neutral polite, as it was probably the best way to deal with the older man, not even considering anything else. He stood by, turning from Damion and looking over the rest of the psychics as they grouped up and got ready to go. Should prove to be a fairly uneventful set of missions, considering how each group looked prepared for whatever they were getting thrown into. Plus that phasing ability that the Dictator John decided to use to solve many and sundry problems, thus far, could pull in reinforcements in, so that could solve problems too. All in all, he was confident in that things would work out fine for each group and their mission. His was simple, go off an angry ghost and call it a day, and he liked it that way.

Jacob stood next to John waiting quietly as he explained the situation to everyone. Once he was done briefing everyone, Jacob looked at John, wondering if someone else would join them or if it was just the two of them. "Is there anyone else joining us on the haunted house, or is it just the two of us? How many teenagers have gone missing, and how long have this been going on?" Jacob asked. These questions were just the few questions that Jacob had running through his mind.

Jacob grabbed his head and knelt down, he grew light head and a felt a migraine coming on. Three ghosts appeared in the empty house. A single person stood in the kitchen with a sword. These ghosts watched those who entered quietly, waiting for the perfect opportunity to attack. Things would quickly grow out of control. Jacob's vision was quick, but had some detail that felt wrong. "John, this doesn't feel right." Jacob said as his hand shakily took out a bottle of aspirin.

"Damion and Alex, you going after a ghost terrorizing a law firm. Unknown if there are any casualties left, but a chair got flung out a window and made it to the other side of the street, so it sounds like ghost telekinesis. Remember to make sure the site is cleaned when done." The man, John, said as he told everyone of their missions.

"Several smaller missions it seems. Whenever your ready, Mr. Damion." Damion's partner, Alex, said as he looked up at the man and placed his hands in his pockets.

"Indeed. Well, let's go then." Damion nodded, his arms going to his sides in order to have his hands near his weapons. His knife and his gun were always at ready and at his side. Some may call his paranoid, but in reality, it is better safe than sorry. During Damion's 10+ years as a psychic, Damion knows that he must always have some kind of protection other than his own powers, as even they may not be able to help him in some scenario.

The psychic turned around in order to walk to the door, stopping only to turn and check to see if his partner is following. He stayed silent, as there really was nothing to say. Some would say that he is another person, someone different from the man who showed up in the classroom just 45 minutes earlier. Damion didn't mind. It is a perfectly logical reason, after all. He switched right from a smirking, casual young man into a silent soldier made and ready to kill.. well, kill something that should be dead, anyway.

Dani was given a brief greeting before the female left the room. She looked around the room as if she was looking for something, but then left for the briefing room. I can't wait to see what they've got for me. It was true. Dani was not sure of her abilities and how they could be useful until she had been called on for missions and given instructions. She was the only empath and she originally thought that was a useless ability. It turned out that it could come in handy.

With a smile on her face, she entered the briefing room just before instructions were given. She cast a glance at Nala and Dylan. No doubt their abilities are better than mine when it comes to getting rid of ghosts. All I can do is communicate on levels that others can't. I've got my throwing knives and my sword though, not that I'm skilled enough to do any hardcore fighting with my sword yet. I've got a lot of learning left to do. My throwing knives on the other hand.... those, I've perfected. They're not particularly useful in situations like these though. I'm just on this mission to do what I like doing best. Talking to people.

Dani waited until after the instructions were given to move toward Nala and Dylan. "I really hope the hostages are still alive. I'm useless otherwise. We'll need to get going right away to lessen the chances of them being dead," she said and walked out the door. There wasn't time to wait around. She was worried about the people stuck there with those ghosts, terrified. Being an empath, she knew what the terror felt like.

Dani was outside in her car within a minute. She would wait for Nala and Dylan before she drove off to the subway station. Alright, Dani. Remember to keep calm and focus on the people. That's your job and the best way you can be useful.

(Sorry for the continued delay. I will be putting up a post later today. But right now, Its semi painful to think so I have to space out my posts and rest a lot. Sorry)

(After away too long, I am finally posting now that my head stopped pounding.)

Within seconds, John did several long range teleportation in a matter of seconds and got everyone to their destinations. "Nothing is ever right". However, something was rather odd. Maybe it was the fact five bodies were hanging from the windows of the house, one couldn't have been older then ten years old. "Well, I guess this really is serious" John noted, taking out his gun.

"Jacob, I don't suppose you have something else to tell me". He noted. Every window flung itself open as John stepped closer. "Because I think we have a fighter".

Meanwhile...

Dylan couldn't help but notice how morbidly bad this seemed. There were over 50 bodies hanging around the subway station by electrical wire that seemed to jump out of the ceiling and pull them up. What only made it worse is that there didn't seem to be any exits, probably a ghost barrier lockdown. However, that didn't mean everyone was dead. There was someone crying in the station, and Dylan could hear someone breathing heavily.

"I don't see her, and there are at least two survivors. Stay aware, the ghost is still around".

Jacob stood up straight, and slowly pulled his pistol out of it's holster. Jacob didn't like the sight of the bodies hanging from the windows, but that wasn't going to stop him from doing what he was suppose to do. "I saw a person in the kitchen, three ghosts watching the movements, but I got the feeling that there was another ghost, one more dangerous then the other three. John i don't like this, i think we need all hands on deck for this one." Jacob replied back to the older man. His migraine was still there, but he had to fight through it. Seeing the five bodies, especially the younger one, hanging in the windows, drove him to continue.

The last thing that Jacob wanted was more people getting killed in this house. If it was up to him, he'd burn the place down, but he couldn't do that, it'd raise some warning bells for the police and firemen. Jacob moved closer the the house, his pistol at the ready in case he needed to aim quickly. The closer he got, the worse the feeling got. Jacob's left hand, his shooting hand, began to shake a bit, so he clasped his right hand over it, to try and steady the hand.

Tony stopped in the hallway that held the 2 entrances to the house, dead in the middle with the staircase off to his right side from which his sword hung. He knew that he heard something, but he did not feel a presence, thus he knew that it was not a ghost. The real question was 'what is it?'

Tony flipped the hood on his cloak up to keep them from seeing his face. Them being whoever made the sound from outside. He would be ready to put a few small cuts into some 'smart' or 'brave' teenagers who decided on coming to this house. If it were another like him, well, he wouldn't know what to do.

Upon coming in, one might think that they were encountering the Grim Reaper, as Tony held his blade tight enough that his fingers came to a near bone white. He also gave off that feeling of being on edge, and ready to attack at any moment. Hopefully his presence would be enough to deter whoever else was getting near him.

Nala breathed in deep, her eyes closed. This place...It was a nightmare, fueled by all her bad experiences with ghosts. That's all it was. She took another steadying breath before pulling the rifle scope up and peering down it to get a full grasp of the situation. So many dead bodies...mangled and tied up like meet in a walk-in freezer. The thought made her sick and she swallowed hard, panning around the area in search of the two voices she could hear. Unfortunately, the echo was making it difficult to pinpoint exact locations. "I don't see any movement, Dylan...Which way?" She continued scanning, keeping an eye out. She was prepared to launch a barrier at any moment. She didn't want anymore death...as long as she could help it.