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Sheri Galloway

"I'm not really fond of attention."

0 · 2,471 views · located in Atlas City

a character in “Hadean”, as played by druidquest

Description

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Theme 1 – Replica - Ilaria Graziano
Theme 2 – Lungmen Battle - Arknights
Theme 3 – Hollow (Instrumental) - Nobuo Uematsu
Theme 4 - Ezio's Family - Jesper Kyd
Theme 5 - I'm Not Made by Design - Nothing But Thieves
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Full Name: Sheri Elizabeth Galloway
Alias: Houndmaster - due to the way she uses her doubles like hunting dogs to chase targets into the open
Age: 26
Gender: Female
Ethnicity: White

Hair: Long red hair, kept in a tight braid.

Eye color: Light green, almost grey. Her irises and pupils aren't visible in her dopplegangers.

Body: Sheri is a woman of below average height who's thin build belies a wiry strength. She has a round face, and keeps herself free of distinguishing markings, fitting for a woman who prefers to avoid attention.

Height: 5'3" || 160 cm

Weight: 124 lbs || 56 kg

Hometown: Unknown. Records show residences in California and Nebraska before arriving in Atlas City.

Affiliation(s): Independent Company

Face Claim: Emi Yusa - Hataraku Maou-sama

Personality: Surly yet soft spoken, with a powerful sense of obligation and duty that can come across as fanatical loyalty to those who don't know better.
She has difficulty interacting with those around her, finding it difficult to finds words to express her own thoughts yet never failing to offer a sharp tongued remark when the opportunity presents itself. Nonetheless, Sheri clings to those brought into her orbit under the label of "teammate" with a quiet desperation found only in those who have never known true loyalty or companionship, and often seeks to endear herself to them by showcasing her "usefulness" in combat, or by offering them small gifts or favors which could be easily brushed off as "basic consideration for a comrade".
Sheri is the type to think quickly in combat, yet fall apart when the tide turns against her, and has a habit of overthinking in such a way as to effortlessly spot tiny details while completely misinterpreting the big picture, something that can make her surprisingly easy to manipulate.
Sheri is a bit of a misanthropist, yet possesses a sense of quiet faith and spirituality which many would be surprised by if she ever found the words to voice it. She hates living around people and thinks nothing of denying aid to those she views as "outside her concern", yet her sense of duty as a "superhero" shifts that category from "the weak and the helpless" to "anyone with money or influence". She is also the type to be gripped with a sense of righteous fury toward those who disregard the lives of beings they view as inherently worthless, such as insects.


Likes:
- The Countryside; having spent most of her life indoors or in crowded cities, Sheri enjoys wide open areas with little development.

- Stews and Curries; Sheri is a surprisingly picky eater, but particularly enjoys heavy comfort foods and mild curries.

- Melons

- Plush toys

- bugs and other such "gross" animals



Dislikes:
- Music. She has sensory issues with it (it makes her head feel swollen).

- Sweet or bitter foods. Sheri dislikes strong flavors, but likes spicy food.

- Sunlight. Strong sunlight hurts her eyes and gives her a headache.

- The noises other people make; chewing, sighing, shoes scuffing etc




Fears:
- Cockroaches

- Being followed

- Loss of those around her

- Being trapped


Skills:
- Urban Camouflage: Sheri is well trained in how to move through cities without detection, and is adept at evading pursuers even without the use of her powers.

- Small Tech DIY: She knows how to make a variety of devices which might prove useful in the field, from traps to handheld EMP devices to cell phones.

- Baking: She's developed a habit of making bread and other such goods in her free time, though she still doesn't like sweets.

- Sharp-Eyed: Sheri is extremely observant, often the first to notice something. This is a skill developed out of necessity in her youth, and serves her well as a sniper and stealth operator.

- Self Defense: Sheri is trained in standard CQC techniques, and has supplemented this training by studying a variety of other martial arts styles, such as capoeira and judo.

Costume Identities: None


Equipment:
- Sniper Rifle: the specific type she's assigned depends on whats needed for a particular mission. The one she uses most is an m24 sniper weapon system designed for .338 lapua magnum rounds, modified to more effectively channel her nerve blasts at long range.

- Modified Walther PPK: a sidearm she carries should she find herself in close combat. allows her to channel her energy blasts without risk of harming herself, and usually not equipped with a proper magazine.

- CQC Knife: another piece of insurance she be forced into close quarters; she's modified it with an insulated handle, as an attempt to try and reduce recoil should she try to use it with her nerve blasts.






Background: Sheri Elizabeth Galloway was born on [DATA EXPUNGED] to [DATA EXPUNGED] and his wife, [DATA EXPUNGED], in the city of [DATA EXPUNGED] in [DATA EXPUNGED]. Following an accident on the night of [DATA EXPUNGED], the infant Sheri was taken into the custody of [DATA EXPUNGED] Children's Home, a well funded and highly respected facility where she lived until she was ten, at which point she was adopted by Dr. Elizabeth Galloway, senior researcher at Vanguard Enterprises, a forward thinking and modern security company for all your public and private security needs, dedicated to protecting citizens like you.
At her request, Sheri was added to [DATA EXPUNGED], a project dedicated to finding new solutions to the threat of superpowered crime. Sheri proved to be a dedicated and highly talented member of thhfnmfkdhenwmrbfn
ONE MOMENT.

ONE MOMENT.

ONE MOMENT.

ACCESS GRANTED.


Sheri Elizabeth Galloway, birth name unknown, was an orphan raised in the Little Miracles Children's Home, a chronically underfunded hovel of an orphanage suffering from a horrific roach infestation, which Sheri hasn't yet managed to psychologically recover from even decades later. Following some shady dealings, she was taken into the custody of Dr. Elizabeth Galloway as a test subject in Vanguard Enterprises' Project Mastima, which sought to develop a method of infusing normal humans with abilities as a way of commodifying the entire concept of a superhero. Despite substandard results, Sheri nevertheless maintained more genetically stable than many of her "siblings", and was cleared for field duty after 6 years of intensive training, with most of her operations consisting of the incapacitation and retrieval of superpowered criminals and test subjects, following payment from either local business associations or city governments unequipped to deal with them.
Sheri was eventually decommissioned as an agent of Vanguard Enterprises' Enhanced Security Division (their registered superhero branch) following the dissolution of her generation in favor of a new batch of heroes who had shown better results with the company's successor to Project Mastima, Project Principality.
Records show that, following this break with Vanguard Enterprises, Sheri has become a registered intependent contractor with a number of other privately operated hero leagues. There seems to be no record of her private life at present, perhaps intentionally to prevent possible encounters with her... shall we say, "parent company" in the future.



Connections

Dr Elizabeth Galloway: Researcher for Vanguard Enterprises and overseer of the children taken in as part of Project Mastima. A distant older woman of roughly 50 years old, she is utterly dedicated to her goals and the advancement of her research, and is perhaps one of the brightest minds on the planet. She is, after all, the woman who cracked the code to manufactured powers.
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Relationship: Dr Elizabeth Galloway is a complicated individual for Sheri. She is a woman who thought nothing of exploiting the role of "mother" to manipulate the children of Project Mastima into doing whatever she wanted. She is a woman who showed them both kindness and cruelty; who praised their successes yet put them through unimaginable hell in her experiments. She is the person with the greatest degree of influence over Sheri, and is perhaps the one Sheri fears and loves most in the entire world.

Nina Elizabeth Galloway: AKA "Opera", one of the children from Project Mastima. She has the ability to manipulate low level sonic vibrations with her voice, resulting in migraines, paranoia, hallucinations, short term memory loss, heart palpitations etc in her targets. One of the last remaining of the Project Mastima children, she is now employed by SINS. As a member of Vanguard Enterprises' Enhanced Security Division, she bore the operator number of O12.
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Relationship: Perhaps the closest thing Sheri had to a friend in Project Mastima, if only because Nina wouldn't leave her alone. She was constantly dragging Sheri around when the two were younger, and there wasn't a single song this fanatical music lover ever listened to that wasn't also pushed onto Sheri. Sheri considers Nina an exceptionally dangerous person, both for her powers and for the degree of sentimentality Sheri feels for her "sister", despite the understanding of their... dynamic, as Sheri was the one assigned to "remove" Nina should she ever become a threat, a contractual assignment which has persisted even after she was discharged from Vanguard Enterprises.
Johnathan Elizabeth Galloway: AKA "Salt", one of the children from Project Mastima and the only one of the five "siblings" known to still be living who remains in Dr. Galloway's company, employed as her bodyguard. In addition to enhanced strength and durability, he has the power to erode anything he touches with his bare hands into a fine salt-like substance, which he can manipulate at will. Though he was not assigned an operator number due to being given responsibilities as Dr. Galloway's bodyguard instead, the other subjects unofficially assigned him the designation of O00.
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Relationship: Sheri's relationship to Jonathan is something that could be deacribed as "strained". While the two were never close, Sheri had been one of the few children in Project Mastima to demonstrate consistent loyalty to Dr. Galloway, and one of the few who never picked on Jonathan for his near-fanatical devotion to their "mother". Thus, Jonathan views Sheri's decision to stay at the doctor's side as a betrayal, more than he does any other of their "siblings".
Victor Elizabeth Galloway: A member of Project Mastima and former "superhero" for Vanguard Enterprises, he underwent partial mutantization in the field and is officially declared Killed In Action. He possessed the ability to raise his body temperature to extreme levels, igniting this things he touched or even the air itself. His operating number with Vanguard Enterprises was O16.
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Relationship: Despite his brash demeanor, Victor was well respected by the other subjects of Project Mastima, and a natural born leader. He and Sheri harbored a mutual sense of respect and, while not neccessarily close, understood the other could be relied on when needed.
Alice Elizabeth Galloway: An extremely reticent woman of who was a mystery even to her fellow subjects in Project Mastima. It is known she possessed the ability to cut through anything, even with just her fingernails, and is officially listed as Missing In Action. Her operator number is O21.
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Relationship: Sheri was one of the few who got along well with Alice; their quiet dispositions and tendency to avoid others meant they often found themselves in the same places. Even though they rarely spoke to each other, if you were to ask, they might each describe the other as their most trusted confidant.



Powers:

Hounds
[Master – 7]
Conjures a duplicate of herself, within her range of sight. The strength and tactical complexity depend on how far from her they are - in close range, they are fundamentally equal to the original, potentially making her extremely dangerous in close quarters; however at distance they become far more simple, and when deployed through the scope of her sniper rifle at a distance of up to 1.4 miles/2400 meters, they are only capable of following basic commands such as "chase this person" or "grab that person". She most frequently uses them as "hunting dogs" to flush out targets, either for capture or elimination. She can have between 3-10 active at once, based on how far away they are (the further they are, the more she can summon. She uses this with a "discard and draw" tactic to cut off possible escape routes, forcing targets where she wants them to go, as well as to overwhelm with sheer numbers.)
Nerve Blast
[Blaster 5, Striker 3]
A nerve blast used to incapacitate targets, which she can focus through the use of firearms. Its strength ranges from "slight muscle cramp" to "elephant tranquilizer". She's far less adept at controlling it at close range, only able to use it at full power or no power, and runs the risk of recoil ranging from minor electrical burns to necrosis.
Shade
[Stranger - 2]
A weak perception filter used to avoid detection. Causes minor electrical interference in machines, and makes it so she doesn't stand out to people. They can still see her, but struggle to remember her once shes out of their direct line of sight. Useless if she does something which would naturally call attention to herself, such as getting in a street fight or running around naked. Also less effective against people who already know her personally.


Power Origins: Corporate Experimentation





Color Code:#663399

So begins...

Sheri Galloway's Story

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Character Portrait: Jericho Amile Character Portrait: Sheri Galloway Character Portrait: Alexander Dalton Character Portrait: Sairyn Pendrake
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Atlas City, North Carolina, March 11th.
Jericho froze in their movement and consumption of the dumpster, having climbed partway inside of the thing to get at any left over food and or thrown away trinkets. Where the flesh of their ‘blob’ form touched metal or food, branches of jagged, tree-spread veins spread out over the surfaces. Ink seeped from the veins, coalesced and dissolved the object(s) nearby, and quickly receded back into Jericho’s form.
The researchers back at their… old ‘home’, said they ate much like a starfish. Though far more ‘disgusting’ in essence.

Jericho had heard the clatter of some glass piece tinkling about behind them. They were vaguely aware of the static-scented super having come closer, but the fact they were so close was worrying. Another super then appeared, and Jericho silently cursed their luck. Their heartbeat thundered in their ears, and for a moment, adrenaline poured in and Jericho got ready to pounce and defend themselves… Before they heard the talking.

It seemed as if one, or maybe both, had no real idea as to where Jericho was. An advantageous situation to be in, if one were attempting to hide… or surprise your surroundings and flee.
Quietly, unbeknownst to those around Jericho, the Polymorph began rapidly consuming everything they could in the dumpster, including the dumpster itself.
They were consuming as fast as they could, and considering they never really tested how fast they ate; to say that the dumpster disappeared along with most of its contents save for plastics and a rare few articles of clothing or cloth… Jericho ate the damn thing in just under three or so seconds.

The form nearly doubled in size as Jericho ate, and ate, and ate. Stopping only when they gently let the lids of the bin rest on the concrete of the alley. Their form swirled with ink, the noise of it was enough to grab the attention of the two (three) Supers before they could continue any further conversation.

The ink swelled for a moment, filling the alleyway with a cacophony of sloshing and splashing noises before it vanished!

And revealed the barely visible form of an extremely confused raccoon. The animal hisses at the two supers before fluffing up, swelling to an abnormal size… And splattering open on its chest. A spray of viscera flew in almost all directions, but the majority of it was slung towards the two supers in the alley with Jericho.
Organs and intestines and what looked like a broad net of webbing coated in black ichor. The air filled with the rancid stink of waste and blood.

The raccoon then ‘vanished’, once again taking the methodology of a cuttlefish and blending into its environment. Left in place of the raccoon were a collection of coins and a necklace with a leather tag reading “Pawn me off. Price me for $120.

Moments later, beside the Aegis who watched from the roof, a raccoon scrambled up and then silently shifted into the form of a massive hound. In its mouth was an equally massive shield. The ‘face’ of the shield was of a Roman helmet, with intricate carvings of bronze surrounding the helmet with geometric shapes and small spiraling shields. The shield itself was made of iron, and in the night-light, reflected the stars and clouds above nearly perfectly. It receded back into Jericho as the dog quickly and quietly ran to the other edge of the roof- Another scent filling it’s snout as it located yet another target.

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Character Portrait: Jericho Amile Character Portrait: Sheri Galloway Character Portrait: Alexander Dalton Character Portrait: Sairyn Pendrake
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Sheri looked over her shoulder for a brief moment at the sound of a car approaching, followed by footsteps. She put up one finger to silence him when he opened his mouth, not bothering to look at them, then reached into her back pocket and tossed them her wallet, which was completely empty aside from a printed contractor's card.

There was a loud screeching of metal being dissolved in the alley, and Sheri poked her head around to see a large…

What the fuck? Sheri stepped back from the wall to avoid the… king slime from splashing her as it writhed and undulated until it filled the alley before immediately collapsing in on itself to reveal… a raccoon. What the fuck?

She exchanged a look with the woman- wait, no, it was just a very beautiful man- in the crisp white dress uniform of NAHLA. He saw it too, right? She stepped closer to get a better look, stopping when it hissed at her. It fluffed itself up, probably trying to look bigger Sheri thought, except it kept getting bigger and more bloated.

Oh.

Sheri grabbed the man from NAHLA and pulled him to the side, barely avoiding the cone of waste and viscera which exploded out of the raccoon. She pinched her nose as the smell assaulted her. What the fuuuuuck.

"I'll admit, this is a first," she groaned, gingerly trying to place her feet between the strands of filth as she tried to get a better look down the alley. She did not want to step in this crap. "Don't suppose I was lucky enough to get the one NAHLA guy who carries a flashlight."

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Character Portrait: Jericho Amile Character Portrait: Sheri Galloway Character Portrait: Alexander Dalton Character Portrait: Sairyn Pendrake
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Atlas City, March 11th, 10-ish PM



The wallet arced beautifully, tumbling lazily in the air until it rested open gingerly in Sairyn's lazily outstretched palm. What a perfect throw! He tossed a stray lock of silver out of his face with a flick of his head when he looked at the card, turning the whole wallet over in his hand once before the sound in the alley caught his attention.

"Raccoon...?" He muttered quietly, more to himself than her. Unusual... but he had something else on his mind that was more pressing than the local wildlife. He gingerly snapped a photo of her face when she looked back at him, the flash exploding brilliantly in the darkness in contrast to the gentle *click* of the phone's camera. He flicked the photo off into his facial recognition app and began a scan, holding her wallet back out to her like a dirty rag one wasn't sure they wanted to touch. Sairyn jiggled it a little to get her attention when she didn't take it right away, his attention rapt on a new notification from his phone.

"Ugh, it never ends...," he grumbled, blowing a sigh through his nose. Building collapsed near the city shopping center... he held his thumb on it for a tangible moment before flicking it into the contractor pool. Someone else will deal with it. "Can-," his sentence was interrupted when the woman suddenly pulled him to the side, narrowly out of the way of a disgusting cone of viscera and waste exploding out of the alleyway. Sairyn was quiet for a long minute, holding the bridge of his nose against the migraine that threatened to explode behind his eyes.

Sairyn looked down at her for a long moment, his eyes flicking between her and the mess in the alley before he took a deep breath... which was a mistake. He held back a gag and pressed the wallet back into Sheri's hands slowly, clearing his throat. The grimior on his belt floated up between them, flipping rapidly through the pages. He skimmed quickly through a list with his finger, flicking something off one of the pages several times in different places. At first, a dimly lit outline, a dull flash of white, an anti-climatic hiss, and a portable flood-lamp materialized in her hands on top of her wallet. Sairyn had one floating idly next to the book as well. Three more flashes. A pair of filtered re-breathers appeared in hand, and an investigation drone materialized over the alley, floating lazily on its repulsors like an gigantic bumble-bee.

"Trace," he commanded to a happy bloop from the drone as zoomed into the alley to take pictures and samples. The grimior snapped shut and hooked itself back on his belt as he slipped the re-breather over his face to combat the stench. He started to hold the second one out to her before quickly taking it back.

"Stick your tongue out as far as it goes," he requested with a note of suspicion as he held the mask out of her reach.

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Character Portrait: Sheri Galloway Character Portrait: Sairyn Pendrake
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Sheri's eyes followed the appearance of the drone and floodlights as she shifted the lantern to one hand, stuffing her wallet back in her pants. Ooo. Handy. She reached over to take the mask, then squinted at him slightly when he pulled his hand back. Her tongue? What?

"Is that a fetish?" she asked, looking skeptical. "God, whatever, stop being stupid." Her eyes flicked over to his hand, a second version of her appearing in a slight burst of static before snatching the mask away and tossing it to her. It disappeared as quickly as it had manifested.

She put the mask on, pulling her braid through the straps, then turned back to the alley, picking her way carefully over the mess from the… "raccoon". "Don't think I've ever seen a city alley this clean before," she remarked, taking in the empty space. A few bits of old clothing, some plastics… aside from the viscera, the place was basically spotless. The beam from her floodlight glinted off a small pile of coins sitting in the center of the alley. She hopped over to it with a quiet "Oo, money," before squatting down to count it out.

"Looks like… three-eighty-nine in small change, and a necklace worth… a hundred-twenty? So, junk." She stuffed the loot in her coat as she cast her glance around the alley, shining the light around the edges and up the walls. "I don't see anything else." She pointed the flood lamp at the drone. "What about you?"

Setting

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Character Portrait: Jericho Amile Character Portrait: Sheri Galloway Character Portrait: Alexander Dalton Character Portrait: Sairyn Pendrake
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Alexander Dalton

Just when Alex was about to try scoping out the area from another angle the sudden explosion of viscera that was flung out towards the two in the alley made him jump to his feet. For once his hunch didn't leave him high and dry. Though he felt relief that he had found Jericho rather quickly, Alex soon was overcome with annoyance. That shapeshifter was in the dog house now. Going back to the scene of the crime even if you didn't take much of a part in it was still a moronic decision. He wanted to pinch his brow and swear loudly.

The two down in the alley seemed to not try and take up pursuit. Good sign, it meant Jericho had either given them the slip or neither wanted to bother with whatever it is he did. Question was what direction the shifter had decided on going. If they had gone full camouflage this was going to give him a migraine by the end of the night. But once again Alex was surprised by the sudden appearance of a massive hound beside him. Alex was about to speak when he noticed the beautiful shield the hound was carrying. He blinked once in confusion before the dog quickly absorbed said shield and bounded off in silence.

"Oh you are NOT off the hook that easy." Alex Clenched his jaw and formed a barrier beneath his feat and proceeded to launch himself after Jericho. He wasn't sure if the two still near the diner would be able to see him "running" off, and honestly he didn't care. He had to make sure his friend didn't get themselves caught or killed for the second time in the course of this day.

Setting

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Character Portrait: Jericho Amile Character Portrait: Sheri Galloway Character Portrait: Alexander Dalton Character Portrait: Sairyn Pendrake
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Sairyn raised a silver eyebrow at her, then his hand recoiled reflexively when the mask was yanked free. He whipped his head around in time to see a burst of static, and then back towards her... already putting the mask on. His emerald eyes squinted at her suspiciously as his phone chimed from... somewhere. It materialized in his hand with a dull flash of light and he glanced down at it expectantly.

NO MATCH.

"Hmm? ... Yeah," he replied absently while considering the results. Sairyn let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding and cleared his throat, regaining his composure and tossing his phone away. It dissolved in a flash of light over his shoulder as he carefully stepped into the alley behind Sheri.

"That's..." not his crime scene. He reflexively wiped his hands on his jacket as Sheri picked up the change and the necklace and jammed both straight into her pocket, unable to suppress the shudder running up his spine. The pages of his grimiore fluttered loudly behind her and latex gloves suddenly materialized on both their hands in a dull flash of white light.

Who knows where that's been??

"There used to be a dumpster here," he informed, stepping gingerly past the viscera onto clean concrete and kneeling down. "Recently too, you can tell from the discoloration here," he remarked, running his gloved finger along the edge of a patch of concrete that was a noticeably different shade. This might have been obvious information to Sheri, who had clearly been paying attention, but it was news to him. She shined her light on the drone, asking it for advice instead of him... Sairyn raised an eyebrow, his ego deflating only slightly. The drone trilled happily, an Info-Slate materializing in Sairyn's hands as he rose to his feet while he scrolled through the list of materials. He muttered them off quickly, mostly to himself.

"It's... bloody stool," he remarked with an air of disappointment. The drone trilled again, its indicator lights illuminating blue. "It has a unique signature," he continued, slightly more optimistic. He raised an eyebrow. "Track signature?" He asked, hopefully. The drone blurted something rude at him. "Please?" The drone gave an irritated blat, and then rumbled something in a mocking tone as it swept the alley, then highlighted a potential path out of the alley and across the street. The pulsing line swept up onto the rooftops.

"Rude..." he muttered as he followed it out into the street, his gaze sweeping up. Movement suddenly caught his eye. "Tag suspect!" he ordered, to which the drone blurped loudly, flashed red, and shot after the person running along the rooftops. With a few taps on the slate he swiftly had a map of the city, moving location of the drone, potential location of the suspect, and quickest route to intercept on the screen.

Sairyn tossed the slate to the side and it settled into a lazy orbit while his grimiore snapped open in front of him, pages fluttering to the Appendix, his stride purposeful but not fast. He flicked an item off the pages onto the street a few meters ahead of him, and the white SUV he arrived in began to materialize in a dull white light from the tires up. It gave a hissing whoosh as it displaced the air. He snapped his fingers, dismissing the flood lamps and masks, snapping the grimiore shut, returning the slate gingerly to an outstretched hand, and opening both front doors of the SUV as he approached it.

The engine roared to life as Sairyn stepped in and closed the driver's door, waiting expectantly for Sheri to follow, the slate already outstretched to her. His emerald eyes flicked to the dashboard clock with an air of exasperation. Sairyn had half a mind to just drive off and leave her. He wasn't sure why he didn't, there were pressing matters to attend to that would take him several hours yet.

You're just a sucker.

He pondered the unbidden thought for a moment, raising a silver eyebrow at... nothing in particular. Sairyn jiggled the slate impatiently, eyes flicking to the passenger seat, then back towards the alley when he saw that Sheri hadn't got in immediately. He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel apprehensively for a moment before rolling the window down and poking his head out.

"Coming?" Well... that thought wasn't wrong at the very least.

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Character Portrait: Jericho Amile Character Portrait: Sheri Galloway Character Portrait: Alexander Dalton Character Portrait: Sairyn Pendrake
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Sheri looked from the slate, to the passenger seat, to the suspect, frozen for the barest instant, eyes screwed shut and gritting her teeth.

Don’t be hasty and fail.

Don’t let the suspect escape again.

You don’t do well up close.


Sheri mussed up her hair, then grabbed the slate and ran around to the passenger seat. She skimmed through the data quickly as the man sped off after the fleeing silhouette. It didn’t match any of the signatures for the mutants she’d hunted before. A new type? This was a bit far out for a Vanguard thing… another organization, then? Damn it, this speculation was pointless.

She leaned forward to look for the drone pursuing the suspect through the windshield. Whoever it was, they were fast. There’s a good chance they’d be able to evade the van at this rate. ”How many toys can you pull out of that thing?” she asked, rolling down the window. ”I’m gonna try to slow that guy down. Give me a sniper rifle, something small and lightweight you don’t mind losing.”

The man’s book slipped off his belt and between the driver’s seat and the door, into the back of the van where it started flipping through it’s pages rapidly. ”I wouldn’t want it back anyway, I’ve seen where your hands have been.”

”The money was clean, jackass,” she replied, climbing through the window and bracing her legs against the dashboard to hold herself steady. She snatched the rifle out of the air as it manifested above the cabin of the vehicle in a burst of light, then took aim at the fleeing figure.

She placed her right hand not at the trigger, but on top, against the cartridge chamber. She peered through the scope, tracing where the figure was coming from and which direction it was heading. She exhaled slowly, stilling herself, feeling a crackle of energy flowing through her hand… and then rocketing out of the barrel, an instantaneous purple line tracing through the sky from where she’d fired it to where she anticipated her target would be.

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Character Portrait: Jericho Amile Character Portrait: Sheri Galloway Character Portrait: Alexander Dalton Character Portrait: Sairyn Pendrake
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Alexander Dalton

Alex was nearly at his top speed at this point. building blurred a bit bellow him every time he would fling himself forward. Even if he had done this dozens of times he couldn't help but feel free with the sense of sudden weightlessness that came with each initial launch. Keeping sight of Jericho wasn't turning out to be so bad. Granted Alex wish he had some clue of where they were going. They seemed to be moving in almost a straight line though so he couldn't complain much. He kept his platforms decently spaced to send him in reasonably tall arcs with each "Jump". Smaller spacing would help with maneuverability of course but that really wasn't necessary. He kept a reasonable distance in his tailing even though he was sure Jericho could at least smell him still. Too bad, the shapeshifter was either going to have to explain trying to shake Alex off their trail or just explain themselves after he brought them home and put an end to this night.

Then suddenly Alex's body began spazzing and locking up on him mid leap. A strange numbness blossomed on the back of his right shoulder and spread around his body. That break in his concentration made him unable to create any sort of emergency landing pad. Alex slammed onto one of the roofs bellow, skidding to the point that he was sent over the edge.

After falling more then five stories Alex hit the concrete with a belly flop that practically shattered the ground around him for a few feet, nearly causing a small crater. What the hell was that?! Alex moved to get himself up as quickly as he could, but everything felt like he was almost moving underwater. on top of that whatever had hit him was giving him a raging headache. No no no! he was going to loose Jericho at this point. Wait, what if whoever did this was with the people trying to find him? Even if they weren't Alex couldn't take that chance. Alex forced himself onto his feet and up straight. A survey of his surroundings showed he was on a side street that didn't look like it got too much traffic. That was a relief at least. He noticed the sound of a engine being gunned was getting closer. That was probably whoever shot him.

Good. let them come. His eyes flared bright blue through the visor of his helmet as he balled his fists. Maybe he would have something to vent on now instead of breaking another makeshift punching bag at home.

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Character Portrait: Jericho Amile Character Portrait: Sheri Galloway Character Portrait: Alexander Dalton Character Portrait: Sairyn Pendrake
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The drone whipped past overhead, shining a spotlight on Alex and seeming to only give him a cursory scan before zooming off. Sairyn steadied the wheel telekinetically and flicked a CS gas grenade out of the Appendix, which he'd left open on the dash in case Sheri needed more equipment. "LOTS," had been his reply when she asked how many toys he could pull out of the book. The question had made him smirk.

"This isn't our guy: signal keeps going," he informed. "Do we keep going? Or do you want to bag this clown?" he asked calmly. The man had stood up after falling from a fair height, looked no worse for wear, and had shattered the ground pretty handily. Clearly they were dealing with a brute that looked like he was going to stand his ground. His foot slowly increased the pressure on the pedal until the transmission dropped a gear and the SUV lurched forward while he yanked the pin of the grenade, holding the spoon and a fistful of black disks in his hand firmly.

"Just drive around him," she instructed.

"This probably won't hold him for long if he decides to follow," he explained, keeping his palm on the wheel to steady the vehicle. Sairyn's emerald eyes narrowed in concentration as he angled like he was going to try and run the man over, keeping the speed steady until the very last moment. The cab of the SUV lurched precariously as he juked around Alex, grazing a few meters past him.

"Sorry bud!" He called out the window as they passed. The grenade and the disks flashed out of his hands like tiny fireworks and crackling around Alex as they displaced the air around him. The CS gas grenade hung in the air in front of his face comically for a single moment before the spoon went spinning into the distance and it began spewing out noxious fumes. A flash erupted from a couple meters away: a thunderous CRACK as an Ignition strategem erupted, driving an inch diameter molten copper slug straight down through the top of the grenade and into the pavement at his feet.
The canister erupted in his face a split second later, igniting all the gas at once in a massive cloud. A machine-gun of pops followed, as eight Ensnare strategem burst open from all around him, firing nets of electrified filiment.

Sairyn feathered the throttle a few times to get the SUV back under control as it fishtailed and then stomped the petal to the floor to hopefully gain some distance before the man could recover.

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Character Portrait: Jericho Amile Character Portrait: Sheri Galloway Character Portrait: Alexander Dalton Character Portrait: Sairyn Pendrake
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There was a brief moment where they were sure Alex was following them, and that everything was going okay. They were in trouble, that much was assured... But they were heading in the right direction, with the scent getting stronger and stronger the entire time. They knew he was following, they knew he could keep sight and keep up!

Then they head the crack of concrete, and the sound of an engine. Over their shoulder they looked, and Jericho watched in mute confusion and slight horror as Alex slammed into a rooftop and abruptly fell. Jericho came to a complete stop, turning about as their claws skidded against the rooftop. The turned, spotted some flying... Thing approaching them, it looked like a wasp, only fair too large and with the lights of some electronic thing. There was a moment of hatred as the drone approached, the very beginning of a warning blaring out of it.
Then it was swallowed whole. A giant maw forming, opening, and closing around the flying device with no real warning to the poor thing. Rows and rows of flat, square molars and scissor-like incisors filled the maw in moments, and as Jericho ran forward to return to Alex, the drone was crushed, shredded, and wholly consumed. Iron plating formed all along the outside of Jericho's body, and along the bones of their forms. Their teeth took on a metallic sheen, and the drone was simply crunched and crushed until it was no more. There was some sort of alloy in the center of the thing, acting as bracing. And the wings held some kind of metal as well. Wiring and circuitry... A tasty snack. The beast raged silently.

For Sairyn and Sheri below, there is an audible CRACK of something else, heavy, hitting the pavement behind the vehicle. Then the sound of tearing and screeching metal along with the sound of what could only be described as some beast from a forgotten age shrieking its' fool head off.
For J-3, it lands outside of the reach of the gas. It's form is one that Alex had yet to see, and just at the feet of the form lands the beautiful shield J-3 had showed it's friend earlier. The clattering rancor is nearly deafening, but J-3 then turns, silent in its' shape and plants a knee into the ground.
The form is that of an incredibly thin, tall, and lanky humanoid. It's head is a blank sphere, with thousands of small pin-holes lining the surface of it, and from it's back sprout two 'wings' made from brass and iron. The 'wings' looked as if someone uprooted a metal tree, and shoved the root-end of the stump on the back of a naked slenderman-like creature. The form was taller than Alex, and it's head would have reached the second story had the thing not fallen to it's knee.
From its kneeling position, J-3 took a deep breath in, held it for a moment while dragging its forearms as far back as the five foot long appendages would go... Before YANK-ing its body forward and WHIP!-ing its' arms forward. Two spines of roughly baseball bat length shot forward, spearing through the air like bullets from a rifle, before the two projectiles splayed out and open mid-flight. They spun themselves into metallic webbing, slamming into the back of the vehicle with barbs and adhesives. The ends of the things flailed in the wind but for a moment, before catching on the street below, YANK-ing the vehicle to a stop as two more of the 'nets' flew forward and really made a mess of things. Another was lobbed high above the vehicle, and splattered onto it from top down, thick rope-strands of material pinning the back doors and driver's side door shut as the webbing clung to the ground and SUV for the life of god.


J-3 stood rapidly from there, shrinking back down into the size of a four-foot tall wolf-hound, and barking with a terrifyingly human voice: "Follow me. I'm trying. To do good. Like you wanted." It then turned, and began bolting down an alleyway before once again scampering up onto a roof top and heading in a relatively straight line towards a certain Bar. Towards two certain, faintly familiar, scents from the morning prior.

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Character Portrait: Jericho Amile Character Portrait: Sheri Galloway Character Portrait: Alexander Dalton Character Portrait: Sairyn Pendrake
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Alexander Dalton

Alex had been expecting something to happen. Another one of those attacks that had paralyzed him before maybe? Good chance of that. If these were the people after Jericho there was no way they would bring traditional bullets or tranquilizers, not that anything like that could have done anything to his body. Lasers would have been worse, those things hurt and would actually leave burns and bruises if strong enough. Alex flared his power more, His energy layering over his entire body in preparation for the worst. Whatever happened next he would have to try wrapping it up quickly. Bubbling and isolating the pursuers was the go to plan. Alex gulped, he was way too distracted right now. His mind was still focused on Jericho. He had to focus or- was that a grenade?

His senses were assaulted one after the other. He only perceived a second of the flashbang effect before the tech in his helmet blacked out his sight and dulled his hearing. Crap, not good! On reflex Alex layered more fields across his body. He breathed in without thinking and his lungs burned with protest.

Gas too?!

He hacked uncontrollably but managed to keep his barriers up. Alex had no choice, he had to give himself breathing room figuratively and literally. With a yell he let the barriers surrounding his body to expand outward with violent force before rapidly dissipating. Coughing and wheezing now, he bent over involuntarily as a new dome flickered around him weakly as he tried to keep himself with some form of defense up. A loud CRACK forced him to look up. That had to be a brute, shit he wasn't ready- wait what? He didn't recognize the eldritch form before him which made Alex scared, for a second he thought he was seeing another shifter like Jericho. And that worry was dashed when a familiar shield was dropped at his feet.
"Ha . . . ha . . Damn, that one actually scared me buddy." He wheezed out a laughed and reached for the shield.

Jericho wasn't playing around and not running on total instinct, Alex didn't have to worry and let himself regain his breath while strapping the shield to his left arm. It really didn't mesh well with his current costume but he wasn't going to complain now. when he finally got his breath back he found a four-foot tall wolf-hound barking at him in Jericho's growling voice. "Follow me. I'm trying. To do good. Like you wanted." Alex just grinned behind his helmet and nodded. He turned towards the totaled vehicle as the hound bolted off and bellowed out. "I'm sorry! No hard feelings!" He then turned and catapulted himself to follow Jericho. it took a few bounds to catch up with the unnatural dog. "I'll follow your lead. lets try not to cause any deaths if we can alright? we got enough bodies today."

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Character Portrait: Jericho Amile Character Portrait: Sheri Galloway Character Portrait: Alexander Dalton Character Portrait: Sairyn Pendrake
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The pages of the grimiore flapped furiously as the car lurched, and he only just managed to slide his whole hand across a section labeled "Soft Things" as he witnessed the steering wheel rushing up towards his face, followed by darkness. Sairyn was vaguely aware that a large object had broken free of its restraints and crashed through the front windshield of the vehicle and onto the street. Most likely the large crate he'd been transporting. Sheri had been half standing out the window when the car had stopped suddenly and was jettisoned into the street. Sairyn's reaction had materialized some things to break her fall... a handful of bean bag chairs, some inflatable mattresses, a small pile of body length pillows with scantily clad anime women printed on them, and far more packing peanuts than was strictly necessary.

He climbed slowly out of the SUV through the passenger side door, staggering to his feet and standing there for a long moment while gazing at his hands. He wiped his face with his palm and slowly ran his tongue along his skin where the fresh blood had collected. The grimiore shot towards him from the vehicle like a bullet, and when he caught it with an outstretched hand, the markings on the cover burned with a crimson light. Sairyn swiveled on his feet to face Alex and Jericho, the air above his head on fire as space was sundered and... something began emerging. The roaring displaced air whipped Sairyn's silver hair about his face wildly.

You're weak.

Movement behind him sent a jolt through his body, and just like that, the tear in space vanished, dissolving the emerging object with it. The light on the grimiore faded as he lowered it back to his side, turning around unsteadily with his other hand pressed against his eyes. He spit blood onto the pavement and blinked his eyes open, his emerald gaze sweeping the scene.

"Inconvenient," he muttered, looking around for something before he seemed surprised to find his grimiore in hand. He blinked several more times as he flipped it open, flicking flares off a page that lit themselves as they landed in various spots around the scene. He knelt down next to Sheri with a grunt, checking to see if her chest was moving, and then leaning over to listen for breathing. He pressed his fingers against her neck just in case.

"Hurt? Can you move?" He asked, with what could have been a note of concern.

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Character Portrait: Sheri Galloway Character Portrait: Sairyn Pendrake
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September 27, 2042
Salem, Massachusetts, United States of America
1:52 PM


Sheri stepped out onto the roof of the analytics building, a cold gust of wind stinging her face. She hunched her shoulders against the chill, indicating with her chin that Nina should stay inside.

”Not letting Nina join us in the Cool Kids Club?”

”She’d just complain about the cold.”

”Then we could be the Cold Kids Club!”

”Jack.”

The other woman put her hands in front of her in surrender, that same cocky grin on her face. She was lanky and brown, with black eyes and bleached hair that was turning back to black at her roots. She was the lightest dressed of the three, and the only one to be clearly armed, due to the dagger strapped to the back of her waist.

She leaned back on her heels, folding her hands behind her head as she watched Sheri move to the north edge of the roof and put down the case she’d lugged all the way up here. Sheri set about assembling the large sniper rifle contained inside, then checking and adjusting the sights to make sure they were calibrated properly.

”So, I hear tell you’re staying,” Jack commented as Sheri worked. ”Not saying I’m surprised, of course. S’pose I just figured… well. I didn’t think you’d wanna be Vanguard forever now the Project’s a failure.”

”It’s not a failure, they’re just closing it so they can focus on the next one,” Sheri corrected, not looking up.

Jack let out a short laugh, busying herself with pretending to walk an invisible tightrope. ”Yeah. Real successful project with five subjects left.”

”Success isn’t predicated on how much you get right, but-”

”-but on what you can learn from the results,” Jack finished the quote, abandoning her imaginary acrobatics and moving to sit on the edge of the roof a couple feet away. ”You really are a mama’s girl. And you still haven’t answered my question!” she added, poking Sheri in the shoulder.

Sheri looked at Jack from the corner of her eye for a moment, taking in the image of her propping herself up on her hands, legs kicking in the breeze off the edge of the building. Dr. Galloway asked me to help train the next group of subjects. It’s an important job, and I still have a debt to pay off,” she said, turning back to what she was doing.

”She’s got Salt and Petra,” Jack pointed out. ”She doesn’t have to keep you, forever, too.” Sheri didn’t respond, instead fixating on turning the knob for her sights back and forth to make sure she had it right. ”Sheri.”

”Shouldn’t you be in position?”

”Zima.”

Sheri sighed and clicked her tongue. She could count on one hand the number of people who could use her old name against her like that, and most of those were dead now. She considered setting the rifle aside for now, joining Jack in just sitting on the roof and surrendering to the discussion Jack so clearly wanted to have, but shook her head against it. They had a job to do, and there’d be time for it afterward.

March 11, 2045
Atlas City, North Carolina, United States of America
8:34 PM


Sheri’s head spun as her consciousness crept back into the world. She was only out for a second or two, but it felt like pulling herself out of a six month coma. Some part of her mind was aware that she probably had a percussion- a concussion. She heard someone talking distantly, though she couldn’t quite make out what they were saying as the words blurred together before the voice came into focus. Her eyes fluttered open to find her view dominated by dark skin and silver hair, and the sensation of something pressed against her neck.

Ah.

”God, off,” she said a little blearily, pushing the NAHLA agent back. She tried using her other hand to push her hair out of her face, but she must’ve still been a little out of it because it didn’t respond. That was a little weird.

She put her obedient hand on the man’s shoulder, using him to push herself up to her-

His hand shot out to stop her. ”Wait, I need to splint your-” Sheri put her weight on her right leg and every ounce of her clarity instantly came screeching back.

”OH MOTHER FUCKING SON OF A DISCARDED SHIT STAINED WHORE!”

The man pushed her back off her feet onto the pile of… body pillows? Not the time. ”As I was saying.” His book flipped open behind him and he set about splinting her lower leg, which had snapped cleanly in two when she was thrown and now rested in a bizarre s-shape.

”The damn thing and the dude are getting away,” she said, trying to get up again. He pushed her back down.

For now,” he replied. ”They can't outrun surveillance. If you really want to go after them like this, I can find them with a smaller drone. Still have the shapeshifter's trace on file and we know which general direction they went.”

Sheri clicked her tongue, resting her head back against the bare stomach of a cartoon elf. ”I need a phone.” His eyes flicked in her direction briefly, and she snatched the cell as it manifested in a flash of light. ”’Preciated.”

”This is Houndmaster,” she said after dialing ACHI. ”Your ‘monster’ is an unregistered shapeshifter, accomplice by a super with telekinetic abilities and hyper resilience. I am currently at the scene were they crashed the car in which I and a cooperating agent of NAHLA were in pursuit, on...” She craned her neck to look at the street signs. ”North Percy Jackson Boulevard. The NAHLA operator can send you more details.”

She tossed the phone aside and it vanished in another burst of light. ”Your taste in pillows concerns me,” she said, feeling exhausted. ”But thanks. I’m Sheri. I guess.”

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Character Portrait: Jericho Amile Character Portrait: Sheri Galloway Character Portrait: Alexander Dalton Character Portrait: Sairyn Pendrake
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March 11, 2045 Atlas City, North Carolina, United States of America 8:37 PM



"Mementos from a more... innocent time," he replied. "Don't bleed on that one, it's my favorite," he continued with an ounce of mirth, a small smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. Sairyn quickly checked her over for other injuries that might need treating before flipping through the grimiore. A black drone materialized next to him in a flash of light as he flicked an item off the page. It was a quad-copter about the size of a coffee table that looked like it'd mated aggressively with a Formula 1 racer, along with a collection of cameras and sensory equipment tucked aerodynamically into the bottom of its sleek carbon-fiber body. Unlike the Investigator, which bobbed like it was struggling against gravity, the Tracer seemed to be firmly rooted in space on it's repulsors.

"Go stealth. High altitude, maximum velocity. Scan for Trace. Follow and observe. Report position. Commit," Sairyn ordered in series as the slate flashed into his hand and he uploaded the Investigator's trace file. Tracer gave an obedient "Blop," extinguished all of its running lights, and then shot off into the air like a bullet with the TIE-Fighter shriek of high performance repulsors. It nearly vanished, blending almost perfectly with the night sky as it flew, extinguishing the odd star momentarily and occasionally leaving a streak of condensation in the air as it hit a hard bank.

"I designed Tracer to keep an eye on S-... an extremely fast associate. If they can outpace it, we weren't going to catch them anyway," he explained, laying the slate down on the pavement and picking up his grimiore again. The map on the slate scrolled past at a dizzying pace as Tracer searched for the signature in a bloodhound-like pattern, and the pages of the grimiore flipped noisily. "Your shoulder is dislocated too. I don't have anything to give you for the pain, so this isn't going to feel nice," he warned, materializing a leather strap for her to bite down on.

Sairyn waited only just long enough for her to bite down on the strap before swiftly setting her leg back into place. It wasn't gentle, but it was over quick. He flicked a boot-like contraption out of the grimiore and lowered her leg into it. Afterwards, a number of mechanical fingers closed down on the limb to hold it in place. "You should be able to walk on that if you don't push it," he said, grasping her dislocated arm and setting it back into place with the same ruthless efficiency.

He stood up with a sigh, wobbling for a moment as he approached the entangled vehicle, running his hand along the hood. A near imperceptible pulse swept through it and he sighed. The SUV dissolved into a swirling light clutched in one hand as the netting crumpled to the ground. He flipped through the Appendix to a section labeled "Needs Repairs" and pressed the light into the page, causing a new entry to scrawl itself at the bottom of a lengthy list. So many things to do... He muttered something that sounded like profanity and went to check on the crate, a sound of relief escaping him a moment after resting his hand on it.

A boxy, beat up grey station wagon materialized with a flash of dull light, and the crate dissolved briefly, re-appearing in the cargo area of the car. The slate chimed as he finished, and it flashed into his hand. A silver-white eyebrow arched as he examined it, and then texted the location to Ivetta. His eyes flicked to Sheri briefly, then back to the slate... just the location... if he mentioned anything about Sheri, Ivetta would try and cock-block him when it came time to poach her just to be aggravating.

"They... went into a nightclub," he informed with a perplexed tone, and then offered his hand to help Sheri to her feet. "Sairyn. Pleasure to meet you."

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Character Portrait: Sheri Galloway Character Portrait: Vicki Vortex Character Portrait: Cannonade Character Portrait: Maeve Butler Character Portrait: Maxwell Landon (The Shape) Character Portrait: Sairyn Pendrake
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The Shape frowned slightly as the fight concluded, the guests now exiting the arena as they prepared to collect their winnings, and Cannonade walked off to clean themselves up after a barely successful fight. "Such an interesting fight... Shame about Maeve, but I certainly learned much more than I expected to." As he rose up from his seat, he began texting something into his phone, taking only a short pause from both Kiran and Vic. "Unfortunately I have to go down there and make myself useful, but about our bet..." He trailed off for a moment as he looked between the two.

"Let the people at cash out know you both bet on Cannonade. I certainly can't have you losing Kiran, and Vic... Well, I wouldn't be much of a gentleman if your first gambling experience at my establishment were a bad one."

The Shape began to make his way over to the VIP lounge exit, and before opening to the door, took one last look at Vic, giving a slight bow towards her. "Please, have a wonderful rest of your evening Vic. I look forward to our next meeting." And with that, he was gone.


_______________________________________________________________________________


Behind Maeve, Liz, and all others present, the sound of footsteps could be heard, echoing into the now damaged arena, heavy, purposeful, and steady.

Maxwell approached both Liz and Maeve, the black of his outfit nearly disappearing into the parts of the black marble still surrounding the room. "Liz. What a pleasure it is to see you again. And Maeve... Well, you certainly know how to make an exciting introduction. Pleasure to make your acquaintance." He extended his hand to shake hers.

The damage to the room had been more than Maxwell had wanted. Far more. And it reiterated a point he had considered for a long while now. It was time to build a new arena much further underground. This place was simply not going to continue to work if fights were going to go in this direction.


_______________________________________________________________________________


Meanwhile, outside Club Shapeless....

A slight plume of smoke rose into the air, illuminated by the soft glow of the screen of a phone. Peter took another puff as he rewatched footage showing a large, muscular guy with long hair, pouncing across rooftops with what was recognized as the shapeshifter from earlier at the diner. Hundreds of little scenes played out, playing recordings of the live footage that had been taken from security, traffic, cellphone, webcam, and even satellite surveillance.

Most of what took place was unseen, mere shadows moving in the dark. Some of what was caught would never even be seen except for by Peter; some folks just forgot to turn off whatever devices they had that contained cameras, even when they sleep. Of course, they'd never see the footage anyways, security or otherwise, he was already making sure of that. Meanwhile, the phone finished up a 'Remote Data Transfer', before erasing it from his phone completely.

"Well Nina, time to join the party, wouldn't you say?" He said with a smirk to the smaller, younger girl with him. Once his phone was back in his pocket, he made his way to the Club's entrance. "You should be good with a little crowd control if things get out of hand, right? Not that I want it to come to that. This is one of those cases I think needs a... Delicate touch."

They arrived at the entrance to the club, immediately stopped by security. "Excuse me sir, guests and club members only. You're gonna have to leave."

Peter chuckled as he reached into his jacket, causing the guards to tense up on their firearms. "Really guys? You're gonna try and turn away a VIP?" He presented them with a leather case, inside of which sat a card with his own face and name on it.

'SINS. Special Agent Peter Radovan'. The guard's heart sank with his jaw.

"Don't worry about me boys, I can look after myself easily enough. How bout you just let your boss know I'm here and we'll go from there." He patted the guard on the shoulder, in about as patronizing of a way as one could to a bouncer nearly six and a half feet tall.

"Care to join me Nina?" He called back as he walked into the club.

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Character Portrait: Jericho Amile Character Portrait: Sheri Galloway Character Portrait: Alexander Dalton Character Portrait: Sairyn Pendrake
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Sheri tested her weight on the brace, confirming there wouldn't be any pain from it. She rolled her formerly dislocated shoulder, finding its range of motion wasn't going to be an issue, then looked over at Sairyn's garbage can with wheels with a slightly raised eyebrow. She opened her mouth to say something about it, then shut it again. It was probably better like this; they wouldn't draw too much attention, and it would give them more time to formulate a proper plan. Rushing into a crowded nightclub after a shapeshifter wasn't exactly a recipe for success.

"Nightclub, right?" she asked to double check, pulling open the passenger side door of the station wagon. "Know which one, or just one of those trash clubs that pops up for like six months before dropping off the earth?"

"It's called 'Shapeless' according to the GPS. I don't really go... out, so I couldn't tell you if it's one of those clubs," he mused as he approached the car, snapping his fingers to clean up the pile of furniture (and more importantly the body pillows) that he'd used to break Sheri's fall. It also seemed that the best feature of the car was that it functioned as finely as it appeared. The door finally yielded after his third attempt to open it, creaking and groaning loudly as he let himself in.

The suspension complained as he dropped himself into the driver seat, and the car seemed to list a noticeably odd inch or so to one side. The door caught when he tried to close it and it took two attempts. Sairyn struggled to start the vehicle, and just when it may have been prudent to give up he pumped the gas a few more times and it sputtered to life. It backfired loudly and coughed out a noxious cloud of black pollution as he eased it into Drive and coaxed the machine into motion.

"What's your plan for this collar anyway? Are we trying to catch it?" He asked, rolling down the window to let some of the burning odor coming from the vents out of the cab.

Sheri settled in the seat and propped her uninjured leg up on the dashboard, considering for a moment. Shapeshifters were certainly an issue, but if she overloaded its nerves with one of her blasts it might lose control of its ability and become unable to maintain its form, rendering it harmless. No, the problem, she reasoned, would be its accomplice - the man with the telekinetic talents. At best, her strongest nerve blast had only distracted him. He'd gotten up just fine, even after falling five stories face-first into the pavement.

She tapped rythmically against the armrest on the inside of the door as the decrepit old vehicle puttered down the road toward their destination, engine crying out in protest at the strain. "I think our best bet would be to try and seperate them," she proposed tentatively, chest against her clavicle as she slouched down in the seat. "The target is probably keeping close to the man from earlier now that it knows someone is pursuing it, and I doubt either of us has much experience talking people into coming along willingly. That's not... I don't recall that really being how public security operators tend to do things."

She sniffed and straightened back up. Now that the adrenaline was leaving her system, she felt incredibly tired. "I don't suppose you have anything that can fire an electronic nerve pulse? Not like standard energy blasts, more like my power from earlier." She thought of how best to explain it. "Kind of like a bundle of junk data made out of the bio-electrical impulses fired off as nerve signals that confuses and overloads the target's nervous system."

"I meant more along the lines of what your actual orders were," he commented. The car backfired loudly as he thought. "But... seems to me like they are protecting eachother: When I engaged the large man, the shape-shifter came back to aid him, and then they both ran off together, separating them isn't going to be easy" he observed, easing the steering wheel over to keep the car in its lane.

"I don't really have an endearing personality: they don't usually call me when 'negotiation' is on the table but I'd prefer to use as little force as possible if that's how the situation is going to roll. I didn't hesitate earlier because I was under the impression we were tracking an animal, and that 'Brute' type looked like he was going to try and stop us," he explained, rubbing his chin with one hand as they came to a red light.

"As for a nerve disruption type device... Nothing I can think of that I have can do that. If I spent some time examining how your powers worked I could probably rig something, but I'm guessing we don't have that kind of time. My areas of expertise are electro-magnetism and spacial-compression," he explained, revving the engine a little when it threatened to stall. He gazed out of the front window for a long moment thoughtfully waiting for the light to turn.

"They might be more likely to split up if we wait for them to come out of the club: I imagine there are a lot of people inside, and it'll be easy for them to lose us in the crowd... if we're taking that angle."

"I suppose..." She doubted it would be that simple. They couldn't reasonably expect them to just walk out the front door, and without knowing how their targets might attempt egress... "If we go that route, we'll need to funnel them toward a specific exit. Otherwise, they could slip through somewhere else and we'll miss them entirely."

She clicked her tongue, watching the city lights pass by through the passenger window. She wouldn't be able to give any proper orders without knowing what their operating field would look like. She held her out out to Sairyn, gesturing for him to give her something. "I'll need to see what you have on the location before I can formulate any proper orders." A flurry of pages, a flash of light, and she was scrolling through a slate, examining the streets around Club Shapeless via sattelite imaging.

"This building here, to the south. I can take up position there if you give me another rifle. Something with more firepower this time." She flicked across the screen on the slate a few times, looking to bring up a floor plan of the club. She looked over it, then flicked back over to the satellite view of the street. Then back to the floor plans. Then back to the street. "Huh."

"Anyway, I'll take up position here. If we can get them through the south service entrance here, from the kitchen, I should have a clear view of the targets."

His hand had moved on its own again... at her request. Sairyn gave it a long, focused look before he narrowed his eyes in suspicion at her. Was mind control one of her powers? He rubbed his fingers together dubiously for a moment like something gross was on them.

You're just a simp for her.

"Well, d-," he stalled the car at a stop sign, looking flustered for a moment and exhaling patiently while he tried to get the car started again. He stomped the gas pedal a few times and the car sputtered back to life. "Don't forget about 'Tracer.' It's in low-power hover mode over the club right now conserving its battery. We've got about 40 minutes of uptime, 15 minutes of high-velocity flight before I have to bring it in for a battery replacement. What kind of firepower are we talking about here anyway?"

"MAG-FED thirty millimeter; raufoss mark 221 rounds," Sheri said, squinting at the image of the street. The gun in question would be twice her size - not exactly something you'd see a hero agency using in the middle of the city. "Actually," she added, a thought occuring. "Give me something lightweight with incendiary rounds, too."

"And here I was thinking you'd ask for a big gun," he chuckled.

The car fishtailed a little as the requested anti-tank rifle, and an M29 complete with ammunition and spare magazines materialized in the cargo area and over stressed the car's worn out suspension. He flexed his hand... he had to be out of his goddamn mind giving a girl he just met, who's capabilities were largely unknown that kind of hardware. Someone with average skills could hit a tank just about anywhere in the city limits with that rifle and turn its crew into liquid. A highly skilled marksman could hit a man sized target, like an extremely durable super, and kill everyone standing behind them at the same range.

Quietly he wondered if the caliber of rifle had something to do with that nerve shot she did, and what it would do to someone if she fired it through an anti-tank rifle. Sairyn shuddrd just a little bit, feeling only a little bad for whoever ended up on the other end of that mess.

"Sure thing," he found himself saying. Sairyn cleared his throat a little, he must have hit his head a little harder than he thought. "Your collar, Sheri: what do you need me to do besides bring the toys, of course?"

Sheri swiped up on the slate, and a hologram of the streetview images appeared over the dash in front of her. "Considering the nature of our targets, we can reasonably assume they'll avoid the standard entry points - the front is crowded with bouncers, making it unlikely they'd slip in undetected, while the service entrance to the south leads through the kitchen, where they wouldn't be able to avoid the eyes of the staff. Their most likely point of egress will be the same way they'd most likely go in: through the roof access door here, which will most likely be unguarded. I can cover the first two routes with myself and one of my doubles, but the roof has too many of these dumbass architectural flourishes on the sides to get an unbroken view from my vantage points. I'll need you to seal it shut."

She disengaged the holographic projection and let the slate fall from her hand. It vanished with a flash of golden light before hitting the floor of the car. "Ideally, I'd want them to leave through the service entrance into the alleyway. That route would be less guarded aside from the kitchen staff, and it'll be the easiest way for me to seperate them without civilians getting in the way."

The club came into view as she finished exposiiting the details of her plan. Valets directed cars around the neatly organized parking lot, each vehicle carefully spaced so there was never less than 3 feet between any of the several dozen cars, all of which cost more than Sheri cared to consider. The only outlier to the exacting designs of chief valet Monsieur Nic was a large black 2045 Chevrolet Suburban, its front left wheel sitting on top of the sidewalk near the front entrance, the rear end half-blocking the wheelchair ramp.

"That's a government SUV," noted Sairyn, indicating the Suburban as they drove past towards Sheri's drop-off point. "That degenerate SINS agent from the Diner this morning, I memorized his license plate. Depending on what they're here for this could get messy," he grunted, scratching his chin thoughtfully, speeding up a little to get to their destination.

"I can only guess right now, but based on what's come up in the investigation so far they're either here for the drugs that turned up on the scene, or the same shape-shifter we are." He parked the car in an alley behind the building Sheri wanted to perch on, and the slate materialized in his hands, bringing up the imagery from Tracer. He zoomed out, flipping through the vision modes and scanning for heat signatures on rooftops. Sairyn held his hand out to Sheri, producing a pair of earbuds so they could keep in contact.

Sheri took her earbud and put it on, clicking it once to make sure it was connected. So... SINS, huh. Sheri paused for a moment before opening the door, looking pensive. SINS, huh.

It took three tries to force open the passenger door, and Sheri stepped out of the ancient grey piece of shit into the cool night air. She went around to the trunk, hauling it open with assistance from one of her doubles. She and Sheri 2 pulled out the anti-tank rifle first, the suspension giving a relieved creak as the weight was removed. She turned her gaze to summon a second double she could hand her share of the sniper cannon off to, but hesitated as a thought struck her.

If SINS were after the same target, that could be troublesome. She was well aware of what usually happened to supers claimed by SINS. Most either wound up working for the organization themselves, or disappeared. And if SINS got their hands on someone like these two...

She slammed the trunk door shut once, then twice when it rebounded without latching, not bothering to grab the M24. "Actually, I think we're gonna take the diplomatic route," she said, hefting the larger rifle up onto her shoulders. "Can the Tracer broadcast messages?"

"No, it's-" Sairyn opened the door to get out, but he'd parked too close to the alley wall and the door wouldn't open wide enough. He contemplated his future for a tangible moment before he slid across the bench seat and out the passenger door, tapping somethign into the slate. "It's an information drone, but it's got a wicked powerful antenna on it because I often need to give it orders from far away. It looks like there are some unsecured wireless signals in the club I could hijack to send messages through," he said, showing her the slate image.

"No, I need it at a specific frequency."

"What's the frequency?" he asked, already having a pretty good idea of what she was up to. "If the club's sound system can't handle it I might be able to jury rig something, if we have a few minutes."

Sheri thought for a second, tapping her fingers against their palm. "I need it to oscillate across a full range between 30,000 and 40,000 hertz. Outside what humans can hear, but low enough for a dog to make out." She lowered the rifle for a bit while she considered further. "I have absolutely no doubt SINS is gonna figure out what we're up to, but jumping between frequencies at random might confuse them enough to buy us time."

Sairyn considered the options for a long moment, letting the slate float in front of him while he flipped through the pages of the grimiore to the Tracer blueprint and examining it thoughtfully. "Okay, the targets maybe don't hear it depending on where they are inside the club, but I can jury rig Tracer to generate magnetic resonance in those frequencies through the flight modules," he explained, tapping a few things into the slate. A minute later, the drone descended into the alley and landed on the hood of the car.

"So, ah... depending on where ACHI got this directive from, interrupting a SINS snatch and grab might catch you hell from Ivetta. Are you okay with that?" He asked, creating a makeshift electronics bench on the hood and going about with some quick re-wiring.

"Yeah," she responded simply. Somehow she doubted Ivetta would care much about defying a federal agency if it meant she got what she was after.

Sheri hauled the rifle back up onto her shoulders and walked toward the building's fire escape, ready to ascend up to the roof. "Let me know when you're done,"[color] she said, tapping the communication device in her ear. [color=#663399]"So I can tell what message to broadcast."

She climbed up the later and stairs of the rickety fire escape, having a pair of doubles cart the anti-tank rifle behind her as they ascended to the roof. She walked swiftly to the opposite end, then took the rifle from her duplicates and set it down so she was facing the club's front entrance.

Some sparks flew from his work, and Sairyn swore under his breath several times, but he was finished after just a few minutes work, and sent the drone back up into the air with a fresh battery. His impromptu workstation dissolved as he scooped up the slate and scripted up some code quickly with one hand as he trotted towards the club through the alleys. He opened his mouth like he would say more, was silent for an uncomfortably long moment, and settled into a run for his position after tucking the slate under one arm.

"It's ready," he said, finally.

Sheri exhaled slowly through her nose, making sure she had her sights right before relaying her intended message to Sairyn for the drone. "SINS has entered the building. Do not approach ground floor. Do not maintain the same form. Avoid public streets. Rendezvous at Elysium Housing Complex, Orion Street, Apartment 207." She cleared her throat, waiting for confirmation that the message had been received.

"Once you start broadcasting, I'll create a distraction for SINS. Feel free to leave on your own, but if you have any motorcycles in that book of yours I'd appreciate it."

Sairyn skidded to a halt, he hadn't considered that they might leave separately. He tapped his fingers on the grimiore apprehensively for a few moments before jogging back to the corner. The beat-up station wagon dissolved into light as he flipped through the pages for something suitable. The crate would be safe in temporary storage for an hour. There wasn't much in the way of bikes in the grimiore, just his two personal pleasure rides. He hovered over the entries apprehensively before he flicked his Bonneville out into the alley for her. The 2045 model was a true modern bike with classic styling, and should be forgiving enough to ride with her broken leg.

"Ride in the alley for you... just be careful and remember that brace won't stand up to any intense physical activity or riding."

He exhaled slowly as he once again began making his way towards the club: he wanted to be nearby incase something went awry. With a few taps on the slate he had the message programmed in and he moved himself into position in an alley near the club. He took a breath.

"I'm perfectly prepared. I am one-hundred percent ready for this," he muttered. His eyes narrowed in focus. He tapped the execute for the broadcast program and let the Slate dissolve into light, summoning Arx Volta to his right hand, and a long, curved sword to his left.

"Operation commence," he ordered.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Jericho Amile Character Portrait: Sheri Galloway Character Portrait: Vicki Vortex Character Portrait: Cannonade Character Portrait: Maeve Butler Character Portrait: Maxwell Landon (The Shape)
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The Shape picked up on Maeve's eyes lingering for a few moments. She seemed to be staring... At his body? Or maybe his clothes? He wasn't certain but he figured that would need to be a conversation for later, whatever it was. "Don't worry about the mess. I'd have let you do twice the damage to see that all again. You're quite impressive, perhaps even more than I was originally led to believe." His voice was polite, but carried tones of someone impressed, and quite pleased as well.

There was a brief glance over from Liz as she spoke, evidently reflecting on the less than fair conditions. "Holding back or not, Maeve clearly is a match for Cannonade. I'd say it speaks very well of your future Maeve, if you don't mind me saying. A future I am very much looking forward to witnessing."


_______________________________________________________________________________


Inside Club Shapeless....

The light thud of leather dress shoes paused near the edges of the main dance floor in Shapeless. The guests continued to move to the rhythm of David Ayuda's voice, unbothered by the appearance of the grey suited man, and the young woman next to him. The guards, however, did notice, and they quickly made there way too and fro as they tried to figure out what to do, and how best to tell the boss.

"Well Nina, if you ask me, I'd prefer something with a little more... Energy to it." He smirked slightly as he blew out a puff of smoke, letting a small bit of ash fall to the dance floor as he continued to scan the room for any familiar faces. "But yeah, a little Nulix would do this place some good." He began to raise the cigarette to his lips once more, but paused half way there.

Peter's gaze landed on the women's bathroom at the other end of the dance floor. A large man stood near the door, wearing some kind of domino mask, long hair tied back, and next to him... A dog. A dog that walked into the women's bathroom.

A strange grin grew across his lips, but his eyes didn't move. Peter's eyes remained in a strange, relaxed and half-open shape, but were fixed upon the large figure in front of the door, and the dog that had disappeared within.

"That's quite the peculiar sight, wouldn't you say Nina?" Peter spoke in a calm, cool tone. His body remained relaxed looking, but something about him seemed tense, beneath the skin, not exactly visible to the eye, but a sense one might get, a feeling.

While his gaze remained fixed on the larger figure by the door, his pupils continued to dilate.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Jericho Amile Character Portrait: Sheri Galloway Character Portrait: Vicki Vortex Character Portrait: Cannonade Character Portrait: Alexander Dalton Character Portrait: Sairyn Pendrake
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Alexander Dalton

Alex had barely moved since Jericho went into the bathroom. He stood straight with his arms crossed behind his back. He kept his chin tilted up slightly to help give an intimidating and watchful image. Kind of needed since his eyes were not visible. He wasn’t going to relax just yet. True, he was on edge more now then ever after the warning that SINS was here. One of his worst fears was being recognized. We’re they the people that had been chasing him and Jericho before? This was going to get ugly fast if that shapeshifter didn’t hurry up. Alex’s jaw clenched and he gulped down his nervousness. Had to just be ready. At the end of the night he had to make sure he and Jericho made it back home safe, but Alex would prefer to do that without showing up on any headlines or wanted lists.

They were not done here even if Jericho had found who they were looking for, the two of them still needed to get out of the club. Given the current string of luck if the marry pair simply moved quickly and quietly they could be in the clear. Make their way home, then finally call it a night. Job well done. Well, when Jericho explains what their job had been of course. Alex still had quite a bit of scolding to do before hitting the sack. Less then intended maybe if The shifter was being serious about this little adventure.

Then Alex felt . . . unsettled. A chill ran up and down his spine in a way that was instinctual. A hint of his power glowed within his eyes as he frantically scanned the room from behind his mask. He was being watched. When his gaze fell of a . . . Official looking man he had to suppress any knee jerk reaction. The man didn’t look all that recognizable but Alex’s gut was telling him to have his guard up. He kept his focus in the man’s direction and casually let out a low whistle, barely auditable with all the club noise. His one and only way to warn the hound still in the bathroom that something was wrong and they needed to go, NOW.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Jericho Amile Character Portrait: Sheri Galloway Character Portrait: Sasha Belov Character Portrait: Vicki Vortex Character Portrait: Cannonade Character Portrait: Maeve Butler
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Inside Club Shapeless....

Peter grinned a little wider when the big guy finally noticed him, and he could practically feel the anxiety starting to come off the guy. "Nina, keep your eyes peeled for anyone trying to move a little too quickly. I need a second set of eyes for any people of interest to us. Also... Keep the peace. I need to stir some things up." He chuckled to himself as he walked away, and towards...

The DJ. He flipped his ID at the woman running it, and drew a his index finger across his neck. She quickly fumbled around with the sound system until it went silent. The crowd stopped and looked around.

"Evening folks." He said with an all too pleased tone, somewhere close to being smug, but in that way where someone knew something everyone else didn't. "No need to panic or anything, just a little bit of SINS business here tonight. Making sure nothing illegal is going down." He let out a hearty laugh, raising a hand as if to tell people to settle down. "Not that I think any of you would do something like that. Just keep yourselves calm and we'll be done here soon."

Peter stepped away from the crowd, making his way towards the big guy and the dog that had reappeared with him. Seemed like he was ready to bolt, but before he could, Peter had produced something in his hand.

"Nice look pal! I should see your tailor! Wouldn't mind a pup like this boy here too, looks like he'd make a fantastic junior agent!" His voice was light, attempting pleasantry, and distracting enough to have caught Alex off guard, long enough for a flash to go off.

The SINS agent held up his own phone and wagged it slightly in his hand. "Hope you don't mind, but it's just so iconic, can't help myself!" He chuckled again as he walked past Alex and Jericho, heading towards the VIP areas.

Once he'd arrived, all the wealthy, well to do VIP's froze practically solid. The barmen didn't move, the waitresses paused mid service, and the guards looked on in almost abject horror, clueless on how to handle the situation. Two figures caught Peter's gaze, long enough to notice that at least one of them had noticed him, even if only briefly.

"Hey, you look like Cannonade. You seem like you've been through some kinda championship fight! But seems you might have come out the winner, eh? Nice job." His eyes gave a slow up and down of the hero, and the person they were dragging along with them. "Better look after your friend there too. VV doesn't look like she's doing too hot."

Each step he took seemed to carry the weight of the universe with it in that moment. His weird, 'knowing' smile gave the whole ordeal an existential atmosphere, and the anxious feeling in the air only intensified as his quiet, yet somehow heavy and energetic steps, took him up to a window near the bar. Curtains were drawn shut, but he soon opened them to reveal a wide, tall, black marble sided room.

The arena.

His gaze traveled down, where it landed upon a figure in black, the blackest black he'd ever seen.

_______________________________________________________________________________


"SHAPE!" A voice called out in a shout from the other side of the arena. It was Ulysses, eyes wide and panicked, Willoughby close behind, hand hovering by a pistol inside his jacket.

The Shape turned back to see his two associates standing at an entrance to the fighting room, looking as if they'd seen a ghost. And then a movement from one of the VIP rooms caught. Maxwell looked up and his eyes met the gaze of a man dressed in a grey suit. A SINS agent. His heart skipped a beat as his body began to flood with a sense of dread, and his mind raced to find a solution.

Ulysses and Willoughby both looked up to see the agent as well, staring down into the arena. They looked over to The Shape, to take some kind of direction from him.

With a slight, but noticeable movement, The Shape raised his hand to the two guards to ask them to stand down and just wait for now... See how this played out.

_______________________________________________________________________________


Peter smiled, tilted his head slightly, then let out a warm breath against the glass. It fogged slightly, and in that circle of condensation he drew a smiley face. He raised his hand, tapped the knuckle of his index finger against it, then with a satisfied smile turned around to return to the other guests of the establishment.

"Bit of a weird place, huh? Got all these curtains up to cover up random bits of concrete wall. Could at least put some more rooms in or something. Maybe something for a bit of show?" He smirked to himself as nervous eyes looked between him, then each other.

Concrete wall? Was he... Going to cover for them? Ignore the arena and the fight?

Why?

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Jericho Amile Character Portrait: Sheri Galloway Character Portrait: Vicki Vortex Character Portrait: Cannonade Character Portrait: Maeve Butler Character Portrait: Maxwell Landon (The Shape)
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Surveillance agent Zain Medhi leaned back in the old wicker chair, staring wearily at the collection of computer screens and data slates on age-stained wooden desks which filled the small apartment they’d rented out over the thrift shop near Soldier Park. He was sooooooo boooooooooooored. The boss got to go hang out in a nightclub with Nina, and they were all stuck here staring at screens all night. Again.

Medhi cracked his knuckles, stretching his stiff neck, then rolled his eyes over to the agent next to him, a tall, hawk-faced man named Rossel Lidia. Lidia was hunched over one of the desks in a leather office chair from 2002, chin in his hand. ”What are you so interested in?” Medhi teased, jostling Lidia’s shoulder. ”Another couple thinking they’re being discreet on the roof?”

”Shut up, man,” Lidia said gruffly, waving Medhi’s hand away. ”Come look at this.”

”If you’re just trying to show me another old homeless guy taking a shit-”

”What? No, man it- Ok, not right now, it’s actually something serious.”

Medhi smirked at him. ”Like what? Hack the club footage to spy on the boss?”

Lidia groaned in exasperation. ”Just look at this.” He grabbed Medhi by the collar and pulled him over to look at the screen. A satellite image had captured a photo of a red haired woman lying on a rooftop, fussing with what had to be one of the largest guns either of them had ever seen.

”Isn’t that the woman who was pursuing the shapeshifter?”

Lidia nodded. ”According to the satellite she’s about six blocks north of the club.”

Medhi scoffed, letting himself fall back into his chair. He leaned back, rubbing his chin with an incredulous grin on his face. ”So- so what, is she waiting for it to come back out? What makes her think it’ll even head that direction?” Lidia just shrugged.

Medhi thought for a moment, then sat up straight and snapped his fingers at two of the other agents in the apartment. ”Mayer, see if you can bring up surveillance footage of the area around where she is and where she came from. Bricker, try and analyze the angle of her gun. I want to know what she’s aiming at.”

The two jumped to attention, quickly setting about their work. Medhi moved back to the computers to aid in the investigation, keeping his phone nearby with Peter Radovan’s number on speed dial just in case.

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Sheri checked her sights one more time, making sure she had her aim perfect. This wasn’t a shot she could risk screwing up; if she missed by even a fraction of an inch, the bullet would rip straight through the target without hitting anything solid enough to detonate against, potentially going until it hit a wall or the ground, potentially several yards away, endangering who knows how many civilians.

She checked again, and then again, and once she was perfectly satisfied with her adjustments, she let out a slow breath and activated her shade filter. She rolled carefully to the side, making certain not to brush against the stock of the rifle, and a double of her appeared where she had just been, taking up her position on the trigger. She stood carefully and moved back over to the fire escape before descending to the alley below.

Sheri dug her hands into her coat, pulling out a pen and three sheets of folded paper. She wrote in a quick, tiny scrawl, then folded them back up and stuffed them neatly into her coat pocket. Her eyes flicked to the Bonneville, and she walked swiftly to its side, making sure it was in good condition with a full gas tank. Sairyn had left a helmet sitting on the seat for her, and she picked it up and set it down gently on the side of the narrow alleyway. She would need her face to be seen clearly, so as much as she appreciated the concern for road safety, the helmet was functionally worthless here.

She gave the alley one more sweep for any sort of surveillance; it was free of cameras, and practically invisible to the road. It was also narrow enough, and the buildings tall enough, that the angle created a blindspot for satellites if she hugged the wall. She’d chosen a good spot. Satisfied with the preparations for her plan, she squatted down against the side of the building, closed her eyes, and pressed her palms tight against her ears.

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Peter had made his way back to the dance floor, passing by the big guy and the dog, giving them a little half smirk and a nod in recognition. Once he got back to Nina, he'd given a slight flourish of his hand, a waving off directed at the DJ, letting her know she could return to her music. Once it had resumed, he turned to his younger counter part. "Well I've had fun tonight, what about you?" He chuckled before being interrupted by his phone ringing out, playing Elton John's 'I'm Still Standing'. Upon taking the call, he gave a brief, cool response. "What is it?"

"Hey, uh, boss, how's it goin'?" came Agent Medhi's voice on the other end, quavering with nervous incredulity. "So, uh, funny story, we were watching the cameras, you know, like we do, all the time - shut up Mayer! - and uh, eheh, funny thing, we actually got a satellite overhead that picked up the contractor woman from earlier - do you remember her? Red hair? Was chasing the shapeshifter?"

Peter let out a soft sigh indicating a slight streak of impatient annoyance. "Yes Medhi, I remember her, I saw her like an hour ago when she was chasing the shapeshifter." He was less annoyed by Medhi's calling him, and more annoyed by the fact Medhi couldn't explain how serious the situation was, and that he was taking far too long trying to do so if it was serious.

"Haha, yeah, anyway, we were watching the monitors, and, funny thing, Lidia actually spotted her in some footage from a satellite moving over the city, about a mile and a half from your position! Isn't that wild?" Medhi let out a small cackle of nervous energy. "So, uh, anyway, we noticed she'd set herself up with a sniper rifle, which you know, we thought that was pretty weird, right? Like what are the odds the shapeshifter would even be going in that direction? So uh, as a joke, just as, you know, a goof, and in all due dilligence, I had Bricker run an analysis of the angle of her gun to get an idea of what exactly she might've been aiming at, and uh, eheheh, you aren't gonna believe this, boss, but it actually looks like she's aiming at your-" Medhi was cut off by an explosion loud enough to shake the walls of the building. "Oh shit."

The sound of the explosion rocked the whole building, causing a wave of people to dash away from the entrance of the club in fear for their lives. Peter's eyes narrowed as he marched outside, Nina close behind. Upon seeing the wreck of the car, he took a quick look around the area to spy if the saboteur was still around, but there wasn't anything he could see from the ground.

He stared at the wreck for a moment as he processed what feeling this inspired in him. Annoyance? Only briefly, but it was being fast replaced by other considerations.

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

Mere seconds after the utter devestation of Peter Radovan's government-issued Chevrolet Suburban, Sheri exited the alleyway's west end twice, one heading north, the other continuing due west. A moment later, Sheri exited again from the east end of the alley, tearing out of it on a black motorcycle.

She raced down the street and past Club Shapeless, coming just close enough to the front parking lot to make eye contact with the two SINS agents who had just been inside before zipping away to the southeast.

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

The other end of the line was filled with a clammor of government agents shouting, some professionally, a couple losing their minds over the skill on display in the gunshot. Underneath the voices was a clatter of tapping against electronics and scooting of thrift store chairs as the agents went flying about in a flurry of activity. Medhi was silent on the other end for a bit before coming back.

"Don't worry boss, I'm sending someone to pick you two up right now," he finally responded. "I've got them working on tagging the girl-" his sentence was cut off when he turned to shout at someone else. "What do you mean which one? The one on the damn- God, just tag all of them!"

Peter didn't respond immediately, his eyes locked on the girl on the bike as she went by, fairly certain it could be assumed she was the one responsible for the damage.

"Medhi. Send that car, but keep word of this under wraps. I need the brass out of the loop while I try to figure some of this out. Got it?" He looked back at the wreck again, his face blank for a few moments, before contorting into a smile that soon erupted into laughter.

After a few moments of his uncontrollable fit, he finally managed to settle himself down again, though he made no effort to find how amused he was. "This just might be the cherry on top for today! Sabotage? An attempted assassination? Some kind of diversion? Doesn't even matter, cause I'm having the time of my life right now!"