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Alexander "Alex" Sanderson

"Your fear awakens; go with it now and let it overcome you."

0 · 122 views · located in Fort Blackburn

a character in “Tales from Fort Blackburn”, originally authored by TCoS, as played by RolePlayGateway

Description

ImageReal Name: Alexander Sanderson

Nickname/Codename/Alias: The Scarecrow is his superhero title. In casual conversation, he shortens his name to Alex.

Allegiance: The Mavericks

Gender: Male

Age: 20

Appearance:

ImageOut of costume: Alex is a moderately bulky man, coming in at 5'10", 180 pounds. His dark brown hair, which is brushed behind his shoulders, compliments his light skin. His defined, somewhat rugged face is rather prominent, though it holds a few nasty scars. Has dark blue eyes. For casual wear he usually opts for denim jeans, a brand tee shirt and occasionally one of his various baseball caps.

In costume: The bottom layer of Scarecrow's costume is dark brown cargo pants and combat boots. The top layer consists of a dark brown hoodie (the hood is always up), with burlap swathed over the torso, concealing a kevlar bulletproof vest. Scarecrow's mask is a converted M50 respirator, also coated in burlap, with sewing across the mouthpiece to provide an uncanny and distinct appearance. He makes us of dark brown military gloves. Scarecrow keeps his items stored in a (you guessed it) brown utility belt wrapped around his hips. Overall, the costume is aimed to both intimidate criminals and hide his identity.

Personality: In contrast to his masked persona, Alex is a pleasant and sociable (if somewhat ditzy) fellow. He is amiable and down-to-earth, which can easily be chalked up to his grounded upbringing. He's also a bit of a jokester, which may or may not be a coping mechanism. Though crude at times, and quite blunt, he's usually not aiming to be rude. Alex is adapt at reading people's emotions and objectives (especially men), though he can still be fooled by a skilled liar. His hobbies include sports, video games and professional fighting.

This is flip side to this, unfortunately. Like most umbrakinetics, Alex has mental deficiencies (in his case, manic depression), and if he gets upset he gets 'very' upset; same with depression. During really bad episodes, he might totally freak out and begin hallucinating, though these cease when his mood is quelled. Calming him down when he gets riled up is a difficult burden. Overall, one might say Alex is an emotive person.

Personal History: Alex was born to anonymous parents whom he never got to know. For reasons unknown to anyone, Alex's father left him with his uncle, Johnny, when he just an infant. He grew up in the rural part of town, and picked up odd jobs to help make ends meet. His uncle was a stout and hard-working man, and instilled morals and work-ethic into him at a young age. As a child, Alex took particular interest in sports, and was quite competitive.

When Alex began manifesting umbrakinetic powers at the age of 8, Johnny chalked this up to his brother, who possessed these same abilities. Johnny's brother was always an unscrupulous man, and he suspected that he'd fallen prey to the negative side of the dark power. Still, Johnny loved Alex as if he was his own son, and the two were always close-knit.

Alex never truly aimed for anything growing up, though he did often dream of being the starting quarterback for the Fort Blackburn Longshoremen. In school, Alex was very much a C-student, neither failing nor succeeding in any subject noticeably. He had a decent assortment of friends, though nobody he would really call a true companion.

When Alex was 18, at the cusp of adulthood, Johnny passed away due to cardiac arrest, leaving Alex alone and with no direction in life. Distraught and in need of direction, he made the foolish decision to join the Tigers, a powerful gang who's true vileness he didn't fully realize.

By the time he pulled out, he already had blood on his hands. Alex was part of a squad that had been ordered to execute several innocent civilians. He didn't know what they had done to the Tigers to deserve death, and he felt sick to his stomach reflecting on his actions. That night he vowed to rectify his mistake and turned on the criminal underworld, becoming the Scarecrow, a symbol of watchfulness against the forces of evil. Turning to the Mavs, he was offered protection and eventually a job by Corona. Alex came under the wing of Judd Santos-Malone, and took a job working directly for the former Maverick. He also became the partner of Jessica Park, and the two became very close.

Powers, Weapons, Ect.:

Umbrakinesis: Also known as the ability to control shadows and dark matter. With enough concentration, he can form it into shields and projectiles, though he usually opts for a sort of blobby shape. By itself, he usually uses darkness to cloud everything into blackness, but by accessing a dimension of dark energy it can be channeled to a variety of effects, both as an absence of light and a solid substance.

Combat Master: Though his style has much less finesse than Shade's, he is a quick and brutal fighter who learned to street brawl like the best of them.

Peak Human Condition: Scarecrow has kept his body in top shape since high school and is capable of feats similar to a trained athlete.

Utility Belt: Scarecrow was given a utility belt by his girlfriend Shade, which carries the same things hers does.

Weaknesses: Manic depression, which can cause unnecessary mood-swings. Possesses a slightly below-average intelligence. When it comes to difficult problem solving, he leaves it up to Shade, and when she has no idea how to do something he's almost always at a loss. Relies on fear, and the few unafraid of him have a leg-up on predicting his attacks. Combat-wise, his umbrakinesis is his main weapon, and any opponent that can evade or nullify it gives him trouble.

Any additional information we should know: Has thick southern accent. Loves ice cream. Ardent sports fan.

So begins...

Alexander "Alex" Sanderson's Story

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Dylan Nelson Character Portrait: Jessica "Jay" Park Character Portrait: Alexander "Alex" Sanderson
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#, as written by TCoS
The feeble, persistent sound of drizzling rain continued as it had for hours, adding some pleasant sounds to an otherwise drab and typical night. The south-east end of Fort Blackburn, when it wasn’t being prowled by hoodlums and prostitutes, was quite dingy, a fact that, while lost on Shade, often disheartened the Scarecrow. The pitiful water droplets relentlessly splattered onto his lenses, traced the eerie lines of his mask and, after a moment, splattered unceremoniously by his feet. Sighing, he pulled himself from the railing he was resting on and turned to the purple-clad spectre on his right.

“Hey, Shade, when’s that Hazard fellow gonna get here? I’m fixin' to throw myself over the edge here if I’ve gotta stand around for another minute.”

Normally Shade would call her partner out on his impatience, but Hazard was running ten minutes late and not making the best of impressions. Scarecrow might soon forgive him for this blunder, but Shade held her coworkers to a higher standard, and didn’t appreciate the delay.

“I don’t know, but if he doesn’t show up in a few minutes we’re patrolling without him.” She answered, her arms crossed with agitation. While Scarecrow had disrupted her methodical routine when she first met him, he quickly proved himself dedicated to the cause; Hazard didn’t seem like he even wanted to be a Maverick, and loyalty ranked high among Shade’s valued virtues.

“Fine by me. Anything to get movin’.” Scarecrow carped, regarding the gray-blue streets and whistling an arbitrary song that had popped into his head.

As they drove down the street, cars sloshed through water, spraying the drenched citizens that were walking to or from their jobs or homes. It did little to improve Hazard’s mood as he was jumping down from a nearby building's rooftop. It was already bad enough that he was running late to the rendezvous point that Shade had made when he received a call on his cell phone earlier that day from Scarecrow. Robert’s Electronics - the electronics store that he works at - as very busy with customers constantly coming into and leaving the store. The store was short-staffed today and Hazard was required to stay longer on closing the store before he could leave. Unfortunately, this would make him late in meeting with the other Mavericks, and so far he felt he wasn’t making a good impression by being late.

Hazard leapt back as a huge splash of water flew up and showered across the sidewalk. He was still getting used to the feeling of his costume; a mixture of black leather and a light kevlar coating that provided protection from firearm and blade damage. However, it provided little relief as the rainwater that drenched the outfit made it hard to move, and there was the fact that raindrops splattered against the visor of his helmet, obscuring his vision.

“They are so going to kill me.” Hazard grumbled to himself as moved into an alley and leapt up to catch a fire escape ladder. He had to be careful going up as the rainwater would make it easy for him to lose his footing. After climbing onto the roof, Hazard ran in the direction of where Shade had called the meeting point. He took running leaps over rooftops before spotting Shade and Scarecrow.

“Hey guys, sorry I’m late.” Hazard apologized when he finally reached them.

While Shade clearly wasn't pleased with Hazard's tardiness, she wasn't in the mood to listen to any excuses and simply dismissed the transgression with a huff.

"We're sweeping through the old factory district tonight." She began, pulling her arms from under her cape. "The FBPD has reported multiple instances of a new drug being transported through the area. We don't have much on the substance, but apparently it's some sort of steroid that goes by the name Pink. Somehow both the Tigers and the Golems are in possession of the stuff; left unchecked, their battles will spread further into the city. We're going to find the supplier of Pink before that happens."

"Sounds like a plan." Scarecrow said, brushing away a few lingering drops. Be it her military experiance or raw intelligence, Shade was always the one with the plan and Scarecrow simply followed suit.

"Whatever decision you make, I’ll just roll with.” Hazard nodded as he heard the orders Shade gave on patrolling the south-east end. The way that Shade gave the orders in an almost military like fashion gave Hazard a brief moment to wonder if she had served in the armed forces. The rain slowed down as the storm was heading to the southwest, which allowed Hazard an easier time to see through the helmet without it being obscured by raindrops.

“So how does this work? Do we split up and keep in radio contact or stay in close ranges of each other?” Hazard looked over to Shade.

"We're going to stick to the same general vicinity of each other. No further than three hundred meters apart." Shade answered, reaching for the grappling hook gun on her belt. A few years back ArmaMax had publically released the first grapple gun, originally designed for SWAT teams and firefighters; Shade simply had to ask her father to send a few their way. Sometimes it paid to be rich.

"Switch your radio frequency to Echo Two." She told Hazard, taking aim at the ledge of another building before pulling the trigger, the carbon-dioxide motor sputtering for a few seconds before guiding her to her destination. Scarecrow, after watching Shade zip off, turned to Hazard and tapped the mouth-piece of his mask.

"I'll be in touch."

With that, he created a cushion of darkness below and hopped over the railing, landing on the streets below.

At Shade’s direction of switching the radio frequency, Hazard turned the dial on the device resting on the upper right shoulder of his costume. He watched Shade zip away using her grapple gun then looked over to Scarecrow as he jumped over the railing and landed on the streets below. That just left him alone standing on the rooftop gazing in the general direction they were going off in. A minute passed before Hazard decided it was time to prove himself he could be reliable to the Mavericks as he made running leaps over rooftops, using his power to increase the longer distance jumps. Hazard had to admit that it was a thrilling sensation to be a part of a group that was devoted to making a difference in this city, but he wasn’t sure he was ready to tell Shade and Scarecrow that yet.

Running across the rooftops, Hazard spied parts of the old factory district approaching. Warehouses, mills, smokestacks spread across the south-east end as far as his eyes could see. That along with the current state of the location he was in made the south-east end very unappealing to be in. Dilapidated buildings had their windows and doors boarded up while other buildings had crumbled to the point that they appeared lopsided. Some of the buildings had lights on, which meant that someone or something must still lived in there though Hazard wasn’t going to take a chance to find out. Down on the streets he could see the poverty stricken citizens wandering around along with the occasional prostitute standing at the corner of an intersection. When he jumped the next closest rooftop, something out of the corner of his eye had caught Hazard’s attention. Flashes of blue and white light were shining out from a back alleyway.

“There’s something you don’t see too often.” Hazard said to himself and hopped down to street level to investigate. “Shade, Scarecrow are you guys seeing this?”

Whether he’d care to admit it or not, Scarecrow knew the streets of the south-east like the back of his hand; much of the Tigers’ operations were conducted in vacant buildings, empty street corners and unlit alleyways. Something that was foreign to him, however, was that sudden blue-white illuminations emanating from a nearby backstreet. It came and went every few seconds, erupting violently and fading away as suddenly as it appeared. Hazard had obviously seen it as well. Scarecrow flipped his radio switch to reply.

“So you’re seein’ this shit too man? Why’s there lightning on the streets?”

“Man-made, perhaps?”

Scarecrow about jumped out of his skin until he spun around, realizing it was Shade; he didn’t even catch the usual whoosh of her cape.

“Dammit Jay, how many times do I gotta tell ya to stop scarin’ me like that?” Scarecrow grumbled. Shade didn’t bother coming up with a response.

“You’re probably right, but why would someone just be slingin’ lightning bolts around? It doesn’t sound like there’s a fight.”

“That’s what we’re going to find out.” Shade answered. Sticking to the walls for cover, she contacted Hazard’s frequency.

“Be advised, Scarecrow and I are approaching the disturbance.”

“Roger that.” Hazard replied back to Shade as he slowly made his way down the backstreet. The flashes of lightning that shot up into the sky and spread into different directions had begun to happen more frequently as he found the source. It was a twitching, bald-headed man wearing a trench coat along with worn and ripped slacks, on his hands were fingerless gloves. In front of the man was what appeared what was once a trash dumpster. Hazard jumped back thinking the man had noticed him, but instead the man let out a yell and started punching into the dumpster. Electricity sparked from his fists with every punch that connected, then the man would hold his hands out and yell as bolts of electricity shot out of them. When the electricity stopped, the man would mumble incoherently to himself before repeating the process of pummeling the dumpster again.

“So anyone got any ideas what to do with him?” Hazard asked as he saw Shade and Scarecrow approach.

The sound of another human’s voice was enough to distract the half-crazed man from the battered dumpster, causing him to swivel, lash out at Hazard with a muffled swear and fling a bolt at him. If one were to examine the meta closer, his mouth and tongue were stained with an almost glowing pink color.

“You really had to speak aloud, didn’t you, dumbfuck?” Shade chastised in a hushed tone, throwing a smoke pellet at the meta to disorient his attacks and prevent Hazard from getting blasted.

“Get him into a bubble Scarecrow.”

Nodding, Scarecrow conglomerated a mass of dark energy around the frenzied man, trapping him as he attempted to bust out with electrified punches. Scarecrow refused to give and continued to hold him.

“A’ight, what now? That guy ain’t gonna be surrendering any time some.”

“Pull the barrier down, just so I can see his head.” Shade instructed, pulling out her handgun. The weapon was chambered with stun rounds, so a well-placed shot would knock the man out long enough for the FBPD to pick him up. When the opening presented itself, Shade pulled the trigger, and within a few seconds the meta was subdued, slumping to the ground. While Shade handcuffed the meta, Scarecrow switched his radio frequency to the FBPD’s and informed the police of the incident.

“Hey, this is Scarecrow, we’ve detained a meta in the alley behind Wright Street. He was on some sorta drug and hurling lightning bolts all over the damn place… Alright, thanks for the help.”

As Scarecrow finished reporting to the cops, Shade pulled a syringe from the meta’s arms and bandaged the entrance hole. Inside was a ounce of the man’s blood; whatever the drug was doing to him, Ladybird would be able to examine the sample and give them a synopsis of its effects.

“Hazard, you stay here and answer of the cops’ questions.” She ordered, slipping the vial into one of her belt pockets and pulling her grapple gun out. “Remain with him Crow, I’ll be back.”

“Alright.” Hazard crossed his arms and leaned back against a nearby brick wall as he waited alongside Scarecrow for the FBPD to arrive. He gazed off into the distance in the direction that Shade had grappled off in. He knew that speaking aloud was probably a rookie mistake and he cursed himself for it. Hazard figured he already wasn’t making that great of a Maverick as is, and alerting the meta to his presence didn’t help any. The sounds of sirens reached Hazard’s ears as he looked up and saw two police cruisers pull up with their emergency lights flashing. One of the officers exited his cruiser and walked up to the two meta-humans.

“Report said of a lighting bolt hurling meta-human, this him?” The officer asked the both of them as he motioned to the stunned meta. Hazard looked to Scarecrow do the talking as he wasn’t in the mood to do so himself.

“This is him officer.” Scarecrow affirmed, hoisting the man up and turning him over to police custody. Some police departments wouldn’t like the Mavericks’ method of citizen’s arrest, but the superheroes had been doing it for so long the FBPD saw more good than ill.

“Look at his mouth sir: hot pink.” Scarecrow said as the cop escorted the waking man to his cruiser. The meta’s breath smelled almost sickeningly sweet. “Pretty sure he was on that Pink drug.”

“Yeah, he’s the fifth one we’ve picked up this week, three of them being Tigers. No clue where the stuff is coming from.”

“We’ll figure it out eventually.” The umbrakinetic remarked, heading into the darker parts of the alley. If there was one person who could set them on the trail, it was Ladybird.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Sara Jung Character Portrait: Dylan Nelson Character Portrait: Jess Almquist Character Portrait: Alexander "Alex" Sanderson
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By day, the rain would have made the appearance of south-east Fort Blackburn even more depressing than it already was; at night it did not make much of a difference. Perhaps a few more people would have been outside in better weather, but to most, caring about the weather was a luxury they couldn’t afford. Nobody paid any attention to a white van that stopped for a moment, then turned and drove back north. Perhaps the driver had made a mistake and corrected it before entering the truly bad part of town. Perhaps a delivery had been made, in which case it was both normal and not anyone’s business. It was, in fact, a delivery. A delivery of a short young woman, who would have looked out of place if anyone had noticed her before she disappeared into the shadows.

The Rose climbed up along a crack in a wall, something she wouldn’t have been able to do before her fingernails became, well, special. Two floors up there was a small window that she had forced open a long time ago and that nobody had bothered to repair. Most likely nobody had noticed it was broken, only the ground floor of the building was in use. She squeezed through the opening that looked a little too small even for her, and quietly landed in the stairwell on the other side. Getting to the rooftops was easy from here. After climbing the stairs to the top floor, she pointed at the lock of the roof access door, turned her wrist as far as it would go in one direction, pressed the nail of her index finger into the lock, and rotated her wrist all the way in the other direction. The last time she had been here was over a year ago, but she still remembered the shape of the key.

After locking the door behind her, The Rose spent some time studying the behaviour of the people in the streets below. She hoped to be lucky enough to notice someone handing a small package to another. It didn’t take her long to decide that this was a bad strategy – it might take all night, and she was already getting cold and soaked within minutes. Perhaps she shouldn’t have tried out the new costume on a night like this, and should have worn a raincoat instead. She would have to move to stay warm; there was only one sensible direction in which to do that: south.

After every few buildings, she had to climb up or down a floor, and at the end of the block she had no choice but to return to street level. She stayed mostly in the back streets, where she wouldn’t be noticed, and peeked around corners to see if anything interesting was happening in the bigger streets. All she found was a number of prostitutes having a slow night. The Rose silently cursed drug dealers for being difficult targets: they didn’t post their identity online, and the ones that were accessible to people who weren’t in the trade themselves were always moving around. She was used to finding the secrets of a known person, not to searching for an unknown one. Of course she could have asked anyone who was likely to be a drug user for information, but again the costume got in her way. A disguise would have been better, preferably one that included a raincoat.

Flashing lights in the distance drew her attention. She guessed they would have nothing to do with what she was looking for, but at least finding out what was going on there would be interesting. She switched to the main road to move faster, sprinting from shadow to shadow. The lights disappeared before she reached them. How disappointing. A short while later, two police cars raced past, if they weren’t about to investigate the source of the light show, some other thing was happening and that would be fine with her too.

She didn’t have to run much further. Watching from a hiding spot behind a dumpster, The Rose noticed a badly damaged other dumpster (which made her a little worried about her choice of cover); two costumed guys, one of which she had seen before; a few cops; and an unconscious hobo. From the bit of conversation she caught, she gathered that the guy the Mavericks had captured and were handing over to the FBPD had been high on Pink. The Rose had missed all the excitement. Too bad, she thought... until she remembered what she had been looking for before she got distracted by the electric homeless. More useful information than she could have hoped for tonight was being dropped in her lap. Lucky!
Apparently many of the users of Pink were Tigers. Seeing the crazy thing the homeless man had done to a dumpster of all things, that was not too surprising. The Mavericks, who also loved their aggro, were not using it to improve their ability to beat up those who ignore the law, and were looking for the source, presumably to stop the production of the drug. So they were doing something useful for once. Perhaps, if she played her cards right, she could get some useful info out of them later. Or maybe they could do the dirty work for her, that would be nice.

The Mavericks left, and so did the FBPD. The only unusual thing that remained was the damaged dumpster. Judging by how the paint had been burned off in lightning patterns, the Pink user’s metahuman ability had been increased by the drug. She wondered whether he had attacked the harmless object because of a mental illness, which would also explain why he looked to be homeless, or he had done so because of hallucinations caused by the drug. Fewer people would get hurt if it was the latter possibility. Probably. She hoped so.

Morning was still hours away. What to do next? She had been fascinated by burnt trash for too long to still have a chance to follow the Mavericks... Perhaps...

* * *

“Hey! Pssst! Hey!”

The hooker turned around. Where was that female voice coming from? Had that big cardboard box in the shadows been there a moment before?

“Don’t bother,” the voice said, “I’m invisible. Do you know where I can get me some Pink?”

“What’s in it for me?” she asked, her voice a little shaky.

“Come oooon. Help a sister out. I need my Pink. Pleeeaaase?”

“I don’t know” she replied. She’d rather not have some metahuman go berserk near her.

“Hey! Hey! Maybe your dealer will give you a little extra for finding him a new buyer. Right? Come on, I really need it. Do you want it to be your fault that I feel like shit? Pretty please?”

She had enough problems without someone with powers wanting revenge on her. “All right, but I want you a few blocks away when you buy it. Okay?”

“Sure sis, I completely understand. Now hurry. You’re the best!”

She pulled out her phone, dialled a number and made a short call. “Hey, it’s Lisa. There’s some girl here who wants to buy Pink. Uh-huh. Yeah. Oh. Shame. Na, I’m still good, but tomorrow. See ya then.” She sighed. “Seems he doesn’t sell that. Sucks.”

“No prob, thanks for trying. Hope you get out of trouble.” The box scurried away, leaving behind a few ten dollar bills.

What the...? When she looked up after grabbing the money, the box was gone, as if it had never been there. “Uh, thanks?”

There was no reply. However, someone had scribbled “UR WELCM” on one of the bills.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Zenith and Nadir le Fay Character Portrait: Dylan Nelson Character Portrait: Richard "Rich" Cheswick Character Portrait: Judd Santos-Malone Character Portrait: Jessica "Jay" Park Character Portrait: Friedrich Kravitz
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#, as written by TCoS
Judd Santos-Malone's restaurant was one of the more popular eateries in northeastern Fort Blackburn. Chattering crowds were a near-ubiquitous presence during opening hours, and it was not uncommon for lines to stretch straight out the front door and onto the pavement. So it felt a bit odd when, at half past seven in the morning, Alice opened the door to a Cachaça Cafe that was dimly lit, weirdly quiet, and completely devoid of patrons.
After taking a second to marvel at the contrast, she walked briskly past the empty receptionist's desk and made a sharp left into a narrow corridor. Sure enough, a faint glow spilled from the contours of the last door. This was the room in which the Mavericks usually convened—private and pleasantly spacious, with a big circular table that Alice was particularly fond of. It was all very Arthurian; Knights of the Round Table, they were, with Rich as their Arthur and Judd as their Merlin…

There was already a small gathering of people inside when Alice pushed open the door. "Good morning, friends," she said, a cheerful lilt to her tone that shouldn't have had the right to exist at seven in the morning. "Is everyone here yet?"

It was a little half past seven in the morning, when the voice of an overtly cheerful young woman calling out when she entered the room made Dylan raise his head up from where he was using his arms to rest on, and glared at the woman. It was his outright opinion that no ordinary person in their right mind would be this happy to be up this early, but he then remembered that the Mavericks were not your usual run-of-the-mill group of concerned citizens. Dylan knew full well he was going to feel it in the morning when he had to wake up to get to the meeting. If it was any other time and place and as long as not being a Maverick, he would have throttled the person who set this whole thing up. “Well I’m here.” He nodded to the woman when she asked the question if every Maverick was present for the meeting that was going to take place.

“Present and accounted for.” Alex groggily managed, his head laying upon the table as he tried not to succumb to a lack of sleep. Alex was used to sleeping in until noon, so when his phone blared and demanded he rise at 6:20 in the morning, he barely managed to stumble out the door with his pants on correctly. Conversely, Jay, who was beside Alex as usual, didn’t appear to be the least bit fazed by the early waking. She nodded when Alice asked of her presence, and gently pulled Alex’s head off the table by the back of his shirt collar, despite his meek protest.

"Hi." Fritz said quickly as Alice sauntered in. He had been averting the eyes of the other Mavericks and twitching his legs and fingers incessantly since he first sat down. He should have been sleeping this early, should have been groggy and sluggish, yet every muscle in his body screamed at him get up and move. Maybe it was just his adrenal gland overreacting to the unusual interruption of his sleep schedule, or maybe he was just nervous over being asked to attend one of the Mavericks' meetings, but Fritz knew that if the meeting did not go by fast then he might just burst from the excess energy.

Groaning in unison, the twins struggled to sit up and examine their surroundings. The party they'd thrown, while a success, left them with killer hangovers. One too many glasses of wine, not enough bread and water. Nadir picked up their phone, squinting against the bright screen to check their messages. The top three were from their Maverick coworkers wondering why they weren't at Judd's place for the meeting. They swore loudly, scrambling to get dressed and leave. In the car, Zenith and Nadir took turns steering and fixing their appearances so as to look presentable for their friends. Taking a second to stop and pick up pints of ice cream as a peace offering, the pair rushed to Judd's place. The wall clock inside stated that the time was 7:48, clicking in a very disapproving manner. They debated on making a flashy entrance, but decided against it as Rich probably wouldn't be too pleased with that. Instead they opted on quietly sweeping the room, leaving each member their respective pints and a spoon to enjoy them with and retired to a corner of the room to observe.

At his seat, Richard rested his chin in his palm, eyes occasionally flitting here and there to observe his allies. The news of an electrokinetic had replaced his ordinary morning state of peace with the constant buzzing of unwanted mentation. From what he had heard, Illicit drugs struck Richard as being especially cruel, often creating vicious cycles in users that would be profitable for the dealer, but Pink in particular not only would harm the user, but could easily cause the user to harm those around them. The more people hurt, the more horrible the transgression, as far as Richard was concerned. Nipping the drug's supply in the bud would be preferable.

He regarded the twins with a glance as they hurried in, carrying cartons of some sort, but paid them little heed. Even fifteen minutes late, at least they had showed up. Richard had been ready to start the meeting without them, and he could see no possible benefit from any of their team being absent.

”Now, with everyone accounted for, let's start the meeting.” He said, casting his gaze across the table, and meeting the eyes of each Maverick in turn. “What we know-” His tone remained level as he continued. “There is a street drug that causes sudden manic episodes, bolsters a user's power, and turns its users' mouths bright pink. There have been at least five users placed under arrest because of episodes brought on by this drug. Three of these were members of The Tigers. One of these is an electrokinetic who could have caused much more damage if Alex and Jessica had not intervened. We can gather from this information that The Tigers and likely other gangs have acquired and are perhaps the suppliers of this drug. In any case, what needs to happen is that whoever is supplying needs to be tracked down and stopped before anyone else is hurt.” Richard turned his impartial gaze to Alice. “Alice, I believe you can fill us in on some more details on the substance. You have the floor.”

Alice, who'd been delightedly examining her newly acquired pint of strawberry ice cream, blinked and looked up when her name was called.

"Ah, yes. Thank you, Richard," she said, putting down the carton and shrugging off her knapsack. "Thanks to the wonderful Jay"—she tossed a grin at the ex-Ranger, who was currently trying to pry Alex's dozing head off the table—"I was able to run a few tests. What we're dealing with is a very powerful, very fast-acting steroid and stimulant combined in one. Near immediate effects, lasting from around…hmm. An hour or so, I'd say. Two at most." After a bit of rummaging, she pulled out a battered notebook from her bag and flipped through a few pages. "Notably, the drug grants about a 10 to 20 percent boost. Non-discriminatory, meaning that both normal people and meta-humans will experience the same effects." She paused, gathering her thoughts. "It's similar to LSD, in some ways. Hallucinations, heightened sensory experience, severe fluctuations in emotion, altered sense of time. On the other hand, it's both highly unstable and highly addictive.

"But onto more practical matters," she continued, once again reaching into her bag. "How to track the drug? Well, with the help of a very special insect—"

The moth on her shoulder fluttered its wings proudly. Alice rolled her eyes, but couldn't quite suppress a smile. Bloody egoist.

"Not you, you twit," she said, and then held up a small object. Disc-shaped and ringed with air holes, the device also sported a transparent cover that revealed the movements of five parasitic wasps. "Meet Paris, who'll be helping us with our problem from now on. They've memorized the scent of Pink, and I've trained them to swarm in its presence. Like so..."

She placed the disc on the table for everyone to see. Sure enough, the five wasps had congregated to the center of the device. Alice waited for everyone to have caught a glimpse before removing yet another object from her knapsack: a plastic bag that held a small, pink cube.

"As you can see, they're very sensitive. We can take them along on patrols and such; I've made enough for everyone, as well as some that can be distributed to the police as well."

“So wait,” Alex interjected, now alert enough to attack the pint of ice cream that had been presented to him, “we each get our own batch of tracker hornets?” The prospect of playing God - or more accurately, Ladybird - with a horde of wasps sounded like an interesting idea on paper, but not everyone had a telekinetic mind linked with insects. “How do we know when they find Pink? And more importantly, how do we know they ain’t gonna sting us?”

“The man’s got a point.” Dylan agreed, as the notion of possibly being stung by one of Ladybird’s wasps wouldn‘t make him a happy camper. He looked down at the pint of ice cream that the Le Fay twins left for him; it was mint chocolate chip, which was his favorite flavor of the dessert. How the two had known what type of ice cream Dylan enjoyed, he would never know. “And another question. What happens if we manage to lose the wasp or they get killed?” Dylan wanted to know because if a wasp would sting him, he wouldn’t be opposed to vaporizing it.

Alice tilted her head quizzically. "Well, they'll mostly be staying inside the cases, so I don't believe they would be terribly bothersome to keep track of…oh, and you needn't worry about stinging. My Paris wasps aren't like yellow-jackets or paper wasps, you see; they're stinger-less.

"As for knowing when they find Pink," she continued, nodding at Alex, "they'll cluster at the center when they smell it. I know you can't tell at the moment, but if nothing's the matter then they'll just move about randomly."

"Ah okay, we won’t be lettin’ ‘em out of the containers then, gotcha.” Alex noted, polishing off more ice cream. He appreciated Alice’s assistance, but he wasn’t exactly intending to let her winged pals buzz around half the city.

From the back of the room, Zenith and Nadir cleared their throats, though only the elder brother spoke, as his counterpart was busy with a spoon in his mouth. "Excusez-nous, but what do we do once we 'ave found Pink? We 'ave not established a plan for this." Nadir "mmmed" in agreement, passing the pint of ice cream and spoon to his brother, though he deigned not to add anything.

“We’re tracking the drug as a means to an end.” Jessica answered the twins, having barely touched her pint of butter pecan. Her mind was too focused on the task at hand to bother. “Our first order of business is to locate suppliers. Once we interrogate dealers about their supply lines, we can begin to take apart this drug ring.”

“Oh, can I do the interrogating?” Alex chimed in, giving Jessica an almost expectant glance. Jessica sighed. He really did enjoy his Scarecrow act, didn’t he?

“Yes, Alex, you can do most of the interrogations.” She permitted. Alex gave a slight grin. “You’re the best.”

"Find the loose cable, follow it to the source." Dylan stated, more to himself than anything. He turned and spoke to Jay. "Where are we meeting for tonight?"

"Same as last night." She replied, barely facing the newbie. "Abandoned apartment complex on the end of Wright Street."

Richard took a moment to look around the table at each of the Mavericks, offering a chance for any final thoughts. When met with silence, he spoke again at last, "Then that's that. We find where this drug is coming from, and once we know, we shut it down. If you find anything, you let the rest of us know as soon as possible. I think we all know what's expected of us, so let's call our meeting to a close. If you have any questions still, though, feel free to ask me or Jessica." He turned to face the broad man who had remained nearby the table, silently observing, for the entirety of the meeting. "Thank you again, Judd, for allowing us to use your private room."

As his name was spoken, Judd's face lit up. The small formality Richard had made a tradition of never failed to brighten his mood. "It's my pleasure." He cast a warm gaze across the group gathered around the table. "It's good seeing you all again." His eyes fell on Dylan briefly and he added more quietly. "Nice to know that there's still new blood coming in."

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Dylan Nelson Character Portrait: Jessica "Jay" Park Character Portrait: Friedrich Kravitz Character Portrait: Alexander "Alex" Sanderson
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“Twenty thousand dollars? How are we supposed to make a profit off that?” the Golem lieutenant protested, staring at the 12th Street Bandits’ leader with incredulity. Night had befallen upon Fort Blackburn again, enabling the local criminals and thugs to begin their operations and dealings under the cover of darkness. The shadows were their homes, it seemed.

“Look, man, the Tigers are selling Pink for fifteen-k a-”

“I don’t wanna hear about the fucking Tigers!” the lieutenant snapped, taking a threatening step forward as his men cracked their knuckles. “Your gang? It only exists because we allow it. You’re in Golem territory, don’t forget that. You buy our product or you won’t be buying any product, got it?”

The fear of God successfully put into him, the Bandits’ leader quickly relented and turned to his men. “Alright boys, it looks like we’ll be b- whoa!”

In a moment, several black tentacles snatched the Bandits up by their legs, hoisting them many feet in the air like flies caught in a spider’s web. The Golem lieutenant barely had time to gasp before he too was being strung up in the air, a metallic claw wrapped around his ankle.

“Ahhh! What the hell are you?!” He cried out, swiveling around to face his assailant; it was a woman clad in an armored supersuit, her identity concealed by a black facemask and purple cloak. The sight didn’t help his panic attack. Shade ignored his inquiry and continued to dangle him over the edge.

“The drugs,” she demanded, her icy, level voice sending chills up the Golem’s spine, “where did you purchase them?”

Despite his fear, the dealer hesitated for a second, knowing the policy on revealing “company secrets”. He was fairly loyal to his employers, and worst case scenario, he’d have to answer to Mouse. Those who came out of her office did not like to talk about what transpired inside.

“I, I don’t know nothin’,” he whimpered, glancing down to see what happened to his men. For a man who suffered easily from vertigo, this was a bad mistake. “Oh lord…”

“I’m the only thing between you and a twenty foot drop. Answer my questions.” Shade insisted firmly, moving her finger to the grapple gun’s trigger. Seeing this, the dealer practically screeched.

“Alright alright, I’ll talk I’ll talk!”

***

“Keep going!” One of the Bandits yelled out as they cut into an alley, scared out of their wits after seeing their brethren and the Golem lieutenant snatched up by unseen forces. The deal between the two gangs was supposed to go off without a hitch, and they didn’t count on the appearance of the Mavericks. A lone goon dared to look behind him only to see a ray of emerald light coming straight at him.

“Damn, Benji’s down!” Another announced with panic as they turned a corner, only to find a brick wall in front of them signaling a dead end. “Okay guys, it’s us or them. I don’t know about any of you, but I’m not going to take this lying down.” There were murmurs of agreement as the remaining Bandits pulled out various weapons; these consisted of pistols, clubs, brass knuckles, and shivs.

“You know, it might be better if you guys just laid down. Might be less painful for all of you.” A newcomer’s voice reached to each of the Bandits’ ears. Each of them turned to the source of the voice and saw a six foot figure standing at the opposite end of the alley; dressed head to toe in sleek black body ballistic armor and helmet, green flashes of light emanated from various points on the suit.

“Ha, why would we do that?” one cockily remarked. “There’s only one of you, and plenty of us.” He held out his hands to motion to himself and his comrades.

Hazard sighed in annoyance as he looked to the person who had been following behind him. “Are they always like this, Lillim?”

A figure clad primarily in dark blue sashayed up to Hazard's side. His head flicked from side to side continuously, as though observing the Bandits' every move and detail from behind his goggles. "The fun ones are, I'll say that," he said with a quick nod. "Them and the stubborn ones. I can't tell the difference until after they're dealt with really."

“Maybe we’ll know after this is finished up; after you?” Hazard motioned with his arms for Lillim to make the first move on tackling the remaining Bandits.

“Let’s get these assholes!” The lead Bandit rounded to the others, charging the two Mavericks with his brass knuckles at the ready. The others gave war cries and followed their leader. Hazard ducked low as a Bandit tried to tackle him with a lunge; he caught the thug and threw him into a nearby dumpster. Out of the corners of his eyes, he caught the another one made a wide swing with his club at Lillim.

In a smooth, almost elegant motion, Lillim hopped backward, allowing the club to swing through empty air. Before the Bandit could react, however, Lillim began to make a light hum in his throat which was soon projected in a direct stream to the Bandit's vicinity, the pitch raised to a screaming high. He winced slightly from behind his mask, his larynx already beginning to ache slightly at the manipulation.

The Bandit dropped the club and covered his ears, the loud pitch causing him to sway back and forth in disorientation. His eyes rolled back into his head as he collapsed, falling to the ground with ears still covered. The remaining members shook their heads, trying to clear them after the loud hum had dissipated, their eyes narrowed in on the source. Right now the Maverick in dark blue was the Bandits’ primary target; two held their pistols and fired at him.

“I don’t think so.” Hazard leaped in front of Lillim and held his left arm out; a glowing green sphere encompassed both of the Mavericks as bullets bounced harmlessly off. Raising his right hand, bolts of plasma energy shot out and knocked the pistols out of the Bandit’s hands. “Warn me next time you’re going to do that,” he remarked to Lillim.

Lillim released the sound and shook his head. "Sorry, had to act fast. Didn't think it would get to you." He swallowed thickly, attempting to soothe the new soreness. "Are you all about ready to throw in the towel?" he asked the two Bandits, returning to a loose, almost casual stance. Perhaps not the timeliest of taunts considering that another pitch shift of that magnitude might throw out his voice completely.

"One Maverick is bad enough, but two of them just isn't worth it." The remaining Bandits nodded to each other and ran past the two, back down the alley and out of sight. Hazard waves his arm to the side, motioning to Lillim to let them go. They had spent enough time playing cleanup duty with the stragglers, and now they needed to get back to Shade and Scarecrow. He took a brief moment to imagine on how the Golem lieutenant would be pissing in his pants as Shade gave him one of her traditional greetings. The image that popped into his head made Hazard chuckle as he turned to Lillim.

"Come on, let's go see if Shade got anything out of that Golem."

***

Lillim rushed around a corner, barely managing to make the turn with the excess momentum. Maybe he had become a little too excited running through the streets and alleyways, or maybe he just still was not used to needing to stop for any other reason than his own whim. Still, as he came to where they had left Shade and Scarecrow, he managed to stop himself, only requiring a few seconds to regain his balance.

He blinked, staring at the scene before him. "So, I'm guessing that the interrogation was a success," he said, looking from Scarecrow to Shade. Briefly, Lillim glanced behind himself, having forgotten to check that Hazard was still keeping up with him.

Hazard kept an even pace behind Lillim as he rounded the corner behind him, he had to admit that this was the most fun he had in awhile. Perhaps with whatever Shade and Scarecrow managed to scare up from the Golem lieutenant, they might get a lead of where to go next. Slowing down, Hazard took a couple steps forward and took in the sight before him; a sobbing Golem.

Gazing between the Golem and the other Mavericks, Hazard guessed that they indeed must have gotten a lead out of him. "Success? I'd say this guy told them his whole life story," he replied to Lillim while shrugging his shoulders.

Handcuffing the last Golem to a lamppost, Shade made a tsk tsk sound, shaking her head and taking a step back to examine her work. Scarecrow had managed to round up most of the Golems and Bandits while she questioned the lieutenant, and he was just getting off the radio with the FBPD dispatcher.

“If I was you, I’d plead guilty. Get your sentence reduced,” Shade advised, glancing over to Scarecrow as he got off the radio.

“Cops’ll be here in a few minutes,” he informed her, gesturing at Lillim and Hazard as they approached from a nearby alley. “Howdy.”

"Hey," Lillim said as Scarecrow greeted him, beaming from behind his balaclava. "We dealt with the stragglers. I doubt we'll be seeing them again anytime soon. I take it everything's gone smoothly on this end?" he asked, looking from the Golem thug then back to Scarecrow.

"Of course." Scarecrow nodded, proud of his partner's accomplishment. "Shade always gets them to talk."

"So what's our next move?" Though they couldn't see it due to the tint of his visor, Hazard's eyes were going back and forth between Shade and Scarecrow. Off in the distance, sirens could be heard signaling that the cops would be there soon.

Shade paused for a moment, glancing in the direction of the sirens before motioning for Hazard to walk with her. She took a breath before speaking.

“We were able to get a name: Serpent. He’s supposedly in charge of the Golem’s drug trafficking operation.” She briefly looked over her shoulder to make sure Scarecrow and Lillim were listening. “They said he operates out of the old factory district, inspecting his stock before it’s sold on the street corners of Blackburn. It shouldn’t be overly difficult to track one of his goons back to him.”

“I reckon we’re gonna split up?” Scarecrow injected. “You and me on one team, Lillim and Hazard on the other?”

“Correct. Gives us more flexibility.” Shade confirmed, the blare of the cop cars now silent as the police rounded up the crooks behind them. “We’ll start tomorrow evening. Any questions?”

"Well if that's the plan, then it sounds good enough for me." Hazard replied. He leaned against the side of a building and took a deep breath, gazing as the police left the area. Standing back up, Hazard was going to ask Shade if they were good for the rest of the night when a loud bang shattered the silence. Only a few seconds passed, then the front window of the shop burst.

"The hell was that, a sniper?"

The sound of a gunshot was enough to have Shade instinctively search for cover. There wasn’t anything adequate, however, so she drew her cape up to face and began to take steps back.

“That’s a sniper, find some cover!” she blared, snapping her head towards Scarecrow to make sure he was okay. The umbrakinetic had brought up a barrier and was backpedaling as well.

“Ah shit,” he gasped, “someone’s gotta get that gunner off the streets!”

The first thought that popped in Shade’s head was to protect her squad, but before she could volunteer herself Hazard was already booking down the street. She stared after him for a moment, admiring his courage and reprimanding his rashness before sighing and talking into the radio.

“Hazard, what are you doing?”

"Doing what Scarecrow said, getting the sniper off the streets." Hazard quickly threw back as he ducked into an alley, another loud bang meaning their attacker took another shot. Using a fire escape to reach the rooftop of the building, Hazard projected his shield just as it was hit from the sniper's next round. He scanned the rooftop for the assailant.

"Shade, Scarecrow, did you guys find cover?"

"Yeah, we're fine," Shade answered, keeping herself close to the wall. "What do you see on your end?"

"Not much yet, sniper has ceased fire for the moment," Hazard replied back into his radio, his eyes searching carefully for the Mavericks' attacker before leaping to the next rooftop. He was about to give up looking, but then the moment presented itself. The sniper was standing up, apparently messing with the rifle he held in his hands. Judging from his garb, the sniper was a Golem.

"His rifle must have jammed, or run out of ammunition. Got to make this count." Hazard thrust his hand forward, the beam of plasma energy shot out towards the target. The shooter flew back when the beam made contact. "Guys, I think I got him. Moving towards his position to detain him." Jumping over the rooftops to the sniper's position, Hazard found him nursing a burned arm. The Golem looked up in surprise, holding his hands out in defense as the Maverick rushed up and grabbed his collar.

"Please don't kill me," the Golem begged softly.

"Right, after you just tried to blow not only my head, but my teammates' as well?" Hazard scoffed. "Now how about you tell me why, before I disfigure your face."

"I was supposed to watch over the deal between the Golems and Bandits, make sure nothing went sour. When you guys showed up, I had no choice! I was just doing my job..." The Golem's panic overtook him and he fainted.

"He's detained, making my way back to you guys." Hazard sighed as he started making his back down to the others, the sniper in tow.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Zenith and Nadir le Fay Character Portrait: Jessica "Jay" Park Character Portrait: Friedrich Kravitz Character Portrait: Alexander "Alex" Sanderson
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Soooo bored. The twins lounged on their ratty couch, staring vacantly into space. It was only 9:32 in the morning and they had already exhausted all means of entertainment in their apartment. Nadir opened his mouth to propose something, only to have Zenith cover it up with his hand. No, they agreed, that wouldn't have been an entertaining idea at all. Suddenly Nadir leapt up from the couch with a laugh. They looked at each other mischeviously, waggling their eyebrows and pointing at each other.

"Brother, we must." Zenith grinned as he, too, rose. "Yes, Brother, we certainly must. It is the only option available to us." Zenith dashed to their bedroom to get changed while his twin searched for their flip phone to enact their plan. He frowned for a moment, then leapt to the couch and pulled off one of the cushions where the phone had fallen the night before. In their small kitchenette, they kept a rolodex with everyone's numbers, some encrypted and some not. Flipping through the cards, Nadir finally managed to find Alex's number, whom he promptly called. In the other room, Zenith just finished arranging his outfit, which consisted of a loose, warm colored shirt in traditional gypsy style, pants and sandals. He traded Nadir for control of the phone to allow his brother to change as well.

Ringringringringring!

Oh lord, why was his phone going off at 9:34 in the morning? That was basically the middle of the night, a fact that Alex grumbled incoherently about as his hand fumbled about his nightstand. Eventually he managed to grasp his cell phone, bringing the device to his face and answering the call with a relenting huff.

“This is Alexander Sanderson, may I ask who’s speakin’?”

"Alex!" came the jubilant reply. "It is Zenith! We wish to treat you to a grand excursion of the town. Do you accept? Of course, you must invite everyone as well. We promise it will be delightful." Nadir shouted something in the background, but the poor microphone quality of their phone made it incomprehensible. "There are such sights to see. We do not feel you get to experience the city where it is most alive often enough."

"Uh... English please." Alex snorted. The Twins' vocabulary often flew right over his rural head.

Snatching the phone from his brother's hand, Nadir put in the crook of his shoulder while he fixed his hair in the kitchen mirror.

"Alex, we are asking you to bring your lovely madamoiselle on a day trip to our favorite places. Would you enjoy to do this?"

That wasn't much better.

"Mada- wha?" Alex inquired, wiping some excess saliva away from his mouth. There was a reason he took Spanish class in high school instead of French.

"Your...how do you say...girlfriend?" The words came out awkwardly, as if he was unfamiliar with the concept. "Jay. The one you spend all your time with? Yes. You two simply must come with us to explore. Bring your friends, s'il vouz plait. Arrange your plans and call us back." Nadir closed the phone, casually tossing it on the counter and turning to face his brother. They sized each other up, making small touch ups to their outfits and hair, before turning to leave. They'd have to get in contact with some of their mystic aquaintances to put on a good show for the Mavericks that decided to show up.

At the last second, Nadir remembered to dash back in to grab the phone. They fired up their old jalopy and headed to the first place, an old Voodoo shop run by a legit priestess from Louisiana. She wasn't particularly powerful, but she knew a few tricks to get by. That, and her cooking was amazing.

Meanwhile, Alex managed to find the strength to sit up, rubbing his eyes and thinking about the Twins’ invitation. He had nothing to do until the evening, and he hadn’t really gotten to know the Zenith and Nadir yet, so hey, why not walk around the city he put his ass on the line to protect for a while? He brought up Jessica on his contacts list and dialed her number.

Jessica, who had only managed about six hours of sleep the previous night, was scrawling in her journal when her cell rang. Her little world of solace intruded upon, she flipped her phone open and answered without checking who it was.

“Hello?”

“Mornin’ Jay,” Alex’s ruggedly soft voice answered. There was something about Alex’s tone, its compassionate inflection despite hardships that made even Jessica smile a little when hearing it. “The Twins wanna take us and the gang to town. You dig?”

The invitation was sudden; she’d barely even spoken to the duo outside of Mav meetings. However, she supposed some down time with the crew would help her trust them, which is probably what the le Fay twins were aiming for.

“I guess I really have nothing better to do. You coming here or am I going to you?”

“Can you come here please? I haven’t even gotten outta bed and I kinda need to shave.”

Jessica chuckled.

“Fair enough, I’ll be there in half an hour.”

“You’re the best Jay.”

“I know. Love you too.”

------

At the park nearby their apartment, the Twins sat on a bench with loaves of bread, feeding the pigeons. Every once in a while, one of them would lean over to pick up a dislodged feather, examine it for a moment, and then discard it. Once they'd scattered all their bread, they rose and began walking down the path that circled the park. Their birdies were disappointingly light on information today, though they did catch a bit of hearsay about Pink dealings. They were becoming more widespread, and thus more of a problem.

Of everyone they'd called to arrange meetings, only four people responded, and of those four, only two were truly gifted. Still, they reasoned that it should still be entertaining enough, especially if they showed their friends the fakes first. Mark and Tanya were 'mediums', claiming they could speak with the dead and tell fortunes. In all their experience with the "paranormal", the Twins had never found someone with the ability to truly commune with the dead. They reasoned that it was most likely impossible, for any number of reasons, the most obvious (to them) being that souls aren't real. Once you die, that's it. You're just a sack of meat.

Queen Shaunti was kind enough to allow them a visit, even after the shenanigans they'd caused last time, probably because she secretly enjoyed it. Vince Yates also agreed to see them, and promised a good show. As a telepath, he had a small ability to influence the minds of others, but only if they were receptive, which is why he chose to become a Hypnotist. He could force people to help themselves and fix their lives with his line of work. Nadir pulled out his phone for the fifth time that hour to make sure he didn't miss a call, though he hadn't, and he honestly wasn't surprised. Alex didn't really strike them as the sort to fret about keeping people up to date with info unless it was life or death. Not out of spite, of course, just absentmindedness.

Speak of the devil, the phone went off in Nadir's hand, singing some sappy love song. He flipped it open and answered.

"Nadir le Fay, Private Investigator," he announced without thinking.

"Alexander Sanderson, Judd Malone's assistant." Alex replied back, chuckling a little. "I was able to talk Fritz into taggin' along, though Ana and Dylan are busy. Where'd you wanna meet us at?"

"We are currently at Valentine Park. It is near to the first stop we would like to make. Is there any way you could convince those coming to come 'ere?"

"Already did. Sent a text to Fritz while you were talking."

"Tres magnifique! We will await you 'ere." Nadir paused for a moment. "Merci beucoup, Alex. We appreciate you all taking the time to allow us to get to know you all better." He hung up the phone and stowed it in his pocket. They took a seat on a bench facing the street, legs crossed and mirroring each other.

--------

"I see a time of great misfortune ahead of you, but it won't last longer than you can bear it. You will pull through in the end." Madam Tanya intoned seriously, holding Alex's hand and staring at his palm. She'd been rambling on about something inane for the past five minutes, and the Twins couldn't really contain their giggling much longer. Her 'predictions' always struck them as hilarious, mostly due to how generic they were. The sheep that normally sought her council snapped it up, of course, but they hoped that Alex was smarter than that.

Zenith cleared his throat loud enough to catch her husband's attention and made a subtle 'terminate mission' gesture. Mark gently nudged his wife with his toe, and she furrowed her brow, putting her hands to her forehead in sudden concentration. "Ah! I had a sudden vision! You will find twenty dollars on the ground today." She sat back in her chair, wiping her forehead in mock exhaustion. "Phew. I'm getting up in years. This whole psychic thing is starting to wear on me." She laughed and leaned against her husband's shoulder. "So tell me, kiddo. How do you know these two troublemakers? They haven't caused you any grief, have they? I'm not too old to box their ears!" Her husband smiled at the group assembled in their cozy parlor, clustered around an ornate round table and seated on lush pillows. They did their best to present a very 'mystical' atmosphere to do their performances in.

Alex snickered a bit at the prediction. He didn't really believe in magic or voodoo or whatever Madam Tanya practiced exactly, but perhaps she was just using some advanced psychological reading technique that was much too complex for a simple man like he. Whatever the case might have been, he leaned back in his chair and shot a glance at Jessica, the couple communicating something indiscernible with their eyes.

"We work with 'em." Alex said after a moment. "And no, they ain't too much trouble. Usually."

Tanya's eyes widened a bit in surprise. "Work with them? Are you freelance? They've never mentioned having co-workers before," she said, giving the twins a 'you rascals' look. Zenith and Nadir exchanged worried expressions, but ended up shrugging without making a comment. They would rather let Jay and Alex reveal what they wanted to.

"We uh, help them and their PI work." Alex continued. It wasn't completely a lie, right? "Sometimes venture out into the field. Gives us somethin' to do, y'know?"

Jessica, only half paying attention, nodded in agreement.

"Oh my, isn't that lovely!" Leaning forward conspiritorily, she put a hand up like she was keeping something from someone. "You know me and my darling husband help them with their PI work too. We've got our ear to the ground, so to speak. Helped 'em solve three cases already!" She sat back in her chair, feeling somewhat self-satisfied.

"Well thank you, we need any help we can get." Alex remarked, nodding unconsciously, as if acknowledging his membership in the secret society. "So where did you find 'em? The Twins I mean."

Tanya and Mark shared a laugh. "Oh, you know. It's a small community, us psychics. Some of us aren't as blessed as others, unfortunately." The Twins suddenly looked embarassed, intently interested in absolutely nothing behind them.

"My husband and I met them one day when they delivered us a small crystal I'd lost, oh...a year back. I thought it gone forever, and lo and behold these two darlings just up and show at our doorstep. They'd even cleaned it off, the dears. Of course that's a suspicious circumstance, to just guess that it belonged to us, so we invited them in for a chat. I still remember the day. When they're in sync and talking at the same time, it's electrifying! We told them our trade, which they'd already gathered from taking a short look around the shop, but common courtesy and all that. We've been in contact ever since." She chuckled. "Isn't that right, boys? Fast friends!" The twins 'mmm'ed in agreement.

Near the front of the shop, the door bell jingled, indicating another customer had entered. "Oh goodness me! I'm sorry dears, but I have an appointment to take care of. Mark will show you the way out. Remember," she winked at Alex, "If you ever need an ear on the ground, you know where to find us." Mark stood up and gestured towards the door with a smile.

"Thank you for coming out to see us. It's great to know that the Twins don't have to work alone anymore. This city's too big for just two men to clean." He held out his hand to Alex, giving him a firm handshake. "Thanks for all you do."

A warm smile graced Alex's face. He wasn't doing it for fame, glory or even recognition, but it still made him happy to know someone appreciated the superhero movement.

"Just a concerned citizen." He innocently insisted. Adjusting the top button of her shirt, Jessica met Mark's eyes and gave an implied farewell before standing beside the door.

"Well, we really should get to it." Alex announced. "Take care."

Mark bowed them out, then rushed back to his wife's side to help her 'channel the spirits'. Outside, the Twins met up with the others to explain their true intentions. In an effort to appear more normal, they decided to take turns speaking this time.

"We 'ad a second motive for this trip," Nadir admitted sheepishly. "We feel it is necessary to share resources, no? These people see and 'ear much in the city. People confess things they would not normally speak of to a policeman or a, ahem, detective. A psychic would already know all the things you could 'ave to say anyways, so why would you not simply say them? It is the Atheist version of confession, we suppose."

Zenith nodded in agreement. "The next two stops we 'ave are gifted, 'owever. They 'ave been much more helpful in the past than Madam and 'er Monsieur, as much as we enjoy going to them."

"I figured them to be quacks." Jessica said as-a-matter-of-factly. They were nice enough, she supposed, but she could smell shenanigans from a mile away. "But if they get the job done, I'd say it's irrelevant."

"So these next fellas are legit huh?" Came Alex's inquiry. "Do they talk to the dead? Levitate objects? Guess the color of your underwear?" He added the last remark with a slight laugh.

Zenith looked at Alex seriously for a moment, then turned to his brother with a slight huff. Nadir reassured his twin with a pat on the shoulder.

"Alex, there are such things as psychics in this world. My brother and I 'appen to be two of them. As for your questions, no one we 'ave ever spoken to can truly speak with the dead. We do not believe it possible. Leviation is child's play for a skilled faker or mild telekinetic, and your underwears are irrelevant. Would you like us to give you a true demonstration of psychic power?"

Well, they were certainly getting professional.

"Sure, go ahead."

"We need to touch you for this to work. Is that okay, Alex?" The Twins held out a hand each, indicating that he should put his in theirs.

"Well, sure." Alex answered, hesitating for a moment. Had he said something wrong? Though the sudden change in tone made him slightly uncomfortable, he complied and shot a half smile at Jessica. "Here I go."

Taking a deep breath, the Twins prepared themselves to examine Alex's psyche.

"We See..." They closed their eyes and let his inner being show them what they needed to say to convince him. "We see much guilt. A guilty conscience borne of dark acts commited in the young and foolish days. We see stripes, a broken identity, and fear. We see the fire within, which consumes this Alex with a desire for redemption." Their eyes snapped open as they dropped his hands, slightly disoriented by the sudden shift back into reality. Nadir touched his nose, though this time it hadn't burst a blood vessel.

"Our community is taken too lightly, Alex," chided Nadir gently. "It reminds us of the stories we 'ave 'eard from this country's past. When people were discounted because they possessed different skins. It is a great injustice." Zenith remained silent, eyes closed again as he steadied himself.

At this point, Alex had to force himself not to stare at the ground. It was true, the Twins were no shams, something he might have admired more if the darkest depths of his psyche hadn't been aired out publically. Sensing that Alex might have been shaken up a little by this experience, Jessica wrapped an arm around his shoulders as he breathed through his nose and brought up his head.

Surprising both of them, it was Zenith who spoke up this time. "We apologize, Alex. Our...gift is not always comforting. We cannot control it when in direct contact with another 'uman. If it will ease your burden some, we also saw a great goodness in you, and a true change. You are a good man, Alexander." He made a motion to touch Alex on the shoulder, then retracted his hand suddenly as if burned. They didn't want to further upset him.

Fritz stared on as the exchange was made, feeling no need to cut in. Now, though, it seemed as though the air needed clearing. If they were going to be visiting psychics, the last thing they needed was more talking about psychic powers. "So, after we're done with these, uh, psychics or what have you, does anyone want to go do something else? Maybe get some food or just, I don't know, run around? Enjoy ourselves, y'know?"

"Noodles? We know of a ramen stand that is divine!" Nadir clutched his hands over his heart, salivating just thinking about it. "If it is preferred, we may simply talk business with the others. I would like to 'ave them on dial for the future, but of course we would need your approval, Jay. Seeing as you are one of our leaders." The Twins examined the group with slightly nervous smiles.

Removing herself from Alex, Jessica eyed the pair before nodding.

"As long as everything works out, then yes, you may add them to our contacts list."

Clapping their hands together happily, the Twins gave their comrades the next address, which would lead them to Vince Yates' office of psychotherapy. He was a talented hypnotist, though most of his 'talent' came from his power, which allowed him to induce hypnosis in even hardened cases, though only if they were willing to allow him to work. The Twins had gone to him in the past, and regularly referred clients to him for rehabilitation from PTSD caused by some of the crimes perpetrated against them. Of the four, Vince would be the most useful to the Mavs, if they ever needed to interrogate someone without harming them physically.

Twenty minutes later, they arrived at Vince's office, one of many medical offices clustered together in a strip. The twins went in ahead to make sure that Dr. Yates hadn't accepted any walk-ins before their arrival, which fortunately he hadn't. They leaned out the door and waved everyone in. The reception room felt cozy, but not homey, just tastefully decorated enough to relax anyone that found themselves needing the good doctor's services. His receptionist sat dutifully at her desk, typing away and ignoring everyone else in the lobby. She didn't see anyone enter or leave, as far as she was concerned. Dr. Yates opened the door to his office and waved the group in.

"Zenith! Nadir! What brings you two to my office? It sounded interesting over the phone, but you were pretty scant on details." He turned to the group with a smile, not wanting to alienate them. "Mr. Sanderson. Ms. Park. Mr. Kravitz. Please come in. I have enough seats for all of us."

"Hey, thanks. And call me Fritz, if you would." Fritz said, nodding his approval and sauntering in to sit down. The place smelled like some mix of doctor's office and museum; musky, almost like leather. It unsettled him a bit, having a less than favorable history with physicians, but he tried to ignore it. No point in complaining about what one could never change. Besides, they had chairs and his feet needed a rest.

"So...Alex, Jessica and Fritz. Were you the only three free today? I'd have loved to meet Richard. He seems like my kind of guy." Vince chuckled to himself. "Never mind. Just a joke. Anyways, I'm rather glad you three decided to accompany your associates today. In all my years, which I assure you have been many, these two are the only people I've never gotten a read off of. Very unsettling. Spooky even. However, I know that while my baritone might be pleasant, I don't want to put you all to sleep. Why not engage in a little conversation? Make things more comfortable?" He leaned towards Fritz and pushed his spectacles back up his nose.

"I'm sorry my office smells uncomfortable. I'd light a candle but my smoke detector is very sensitive." He turned to the group at large and leaned back in his plushy leather chair. "So, please, enlighten me as to how I may be of service."

"We are 'ere on...business. These fine members of our society are 'elping us with our work, and we wished to 'ave everyone aquainted with everyone else." Zenith turned to Jessica for approval. She merely gave them a affirmative glance.

"Oh is that so? Secret squirrel business, I'd imagine. You two love your mystery novels, so I can't say I'm surprised." He looked at Jay then, having seen everything he needed. "So, Jessica. How might I convince you that I am indeed a trustworthy asset for your..ahem...group? I know it's not as simple as saying 'I can be trusted', but I'd like the world to move that way someday." He steepled his fingers, gazing at her expectantly, yet friendly.

Folding her arms, Jessica examined the shrink in front of her before huffing slightly, sitting up. She wasn't exactly adept to talking to psychologists and the like, but if the Twins insisted on broadening their network, she wasn't going to debate too much.

"Well, just be frank I suppose. Who are you exactly?" She asked politely enough, but indifferently.

"Hmm...yes. I see. Very well. My official title is Dr. Vince Yates, Psychotherapist. I'm a hypnotist and therapist, and I specialize in treating post crime traumatic stress. However, I also moonlight as somewhat of a Watson to your Holmes' here. I advise them, assist with their investigations, and treat their clients, if necessary. I find that it is much easier to work with someone who understands me, rather than scoffing policemen who dismiss my work as mumbo jumbo. If I am hearing correctly, the Twins want to expand my services to your group as well. Let me say, I would be delighted to do so. If you require credentals, I have a bundle of files concerning cases I've assisted the le Fay twins in solving. Does that satisfy you?"

That was good enough.

"It does." Jessica concluded. "I suppose you would like to know what our identities are?"

The Twins shared a laugh. Vince clucked his tongue in amusement, but tried not to sound haughty.

"My dear, the question isn't do I want to know them, but would you like me to tell you who you are?"

Jessica's eye briefly met the Twins'.

"Did you tell him?" She questioned, drier than usual.

Throwing their hands up defensively, the Twins spluttered something in French, trying to explain the situation until Dr. Yates stopped them.

"I assure you, Jessica, that your coworkers have been most discreet. They shared with you that I have a certain talent, correct? That talent is Telepathy. People's minds are open books to me, though I generally try not to read too deeply into things. Makes them nervous, and understandably so. I assure you, however, that I am perfectly capable of keeping any secrets, especially ones that may potentially harm others. Your identities would be classified as such. However, I'd advise you not to worry about what may or may not have been discovered by me. I'm very surgical; I only find what I'm looking for, nothing more."

A hum of geniune surprise escaped Jessica's throat. A legitimate telepath? She'd heard the stories, but never seen one in person; it was impressive to say the least. Folding her arms, Jessica leaned back and let a wry smile adorn the bottom of her face.

"I suppose I have no choice but to trust you, Dr. Yates."

"You always have a choice, Jessica, but I appreciate it all the same. Here, have one of my cards." Fishing out a business card from a drawer in his desk, he passed it to the twins who in turn passed it to Jessica.

"If any of you ever feel like you need to see a therapist, my door is always open." Vince smiled at the group. "Any last questions? I know you all are hungry and eager to leave."

The group bid farewell to Dr. Yates and congregated outside his building. Nadir got a phone call, which he distanced himself from the group to take. Zenith put his hands on his hips, sullenly pouting.

"Queen Shaunti cannot see us today. Something about 'er children are acting up. Ah well," Zenith shrugged slightly, still a bit upset. "So where did you all wish to eat? Noodles? Or other sorts of food. We know many excellent dining locations."

"Say, they got any good fish places 'round here?" Alex piped up. "I'm kinda in the mood for fish."

"Indeed there are." Zenith replied, motioning in the direction of a local seafood restraunt. "Let us proceed immediately, we 'ave waited long enough already."

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Dylan Nelson Character Portrait: Nisa Jai "Mouse" Verion Character Portrait: Jessica "Jay" Park Character Portrait: Alexander "Alex" Sanderson
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#, as written by TCoS
George looked over his shoulder again, making sure he wasn't hallucinating. He elbowed his lab partner and jerked his head over to the couch where their boss had been sleeping for two solid days. There, like some sort of miracle, sat a big smile plastered all over Mouse's face. They both stopped and stared, unsure if the apocalypse had come early or if they'd been breathing fumes from the lab equipment for too long. Harvey took out his phone and raised it to snap a picture, but fortunately for him, George caught him in time and jerked his hand away.

"Are you fucking crazy?! If she finds a picture of herself on your phone, not only are you dead, but so are the rest of us! Just... look for a while. I don't know if anyone's ever seen this before. It's spooky." The two men leaned against the lab table, arms crossed and intently examining Mouse's expression. The third assistant walked into the room, took one look at her coworkers and knew something was up.

"What are you two shit eaters up to? If Mou-" her sentence died in her throat as she followed their pointing fingers. "Oh. My. Fucking. God. That is so adorable! Oh man, I need to take a picture of this!" And before the men could tackle her, her phone had already snapped a photo. It was at that time that Mouse finally returned to the land of the living, sitting up on the couch with a yawn. She rubbed her eyes sleepily, squinting against the sudden glare of the fluorescent lights overhead at her underlings wrestling for control of a phone on her floor.

"I was dreaming...I owned a Spanish villa made entirely out of money." She half-smiled again. "It was nice... I was the only one who lived there." Suddenly the current situation exerted itself on her. "What the hell are you three doing? Stop fucking in my goddamn drug lab and get back to work!" Standing up, she gathered her lab coat around her and shooed her henchmen out of her way. Caleb had probably emailed her instructions and she needed to make sure she wasn't missing anything.

"Ughh...a hundred emails in..two days? Are they really so helpless without me?" Mouse sat hunched over in her chair, deleting most of the junk that she didn't care about. Her filters flagged a few emails, most noteably was one from Fernando Lopez, one of Caleb's associates. Mouse personally found the man distasteful, and took a twisted pleasure in frightening him whenever possible. She opened the email and scanned the contents.

"hey mousy mouse, its me, serpent. da boss man wants me 2 speak w/ u bout our little operaton wen u wake up. mail me back wen u can, k mousy?

love, fernando"

Fighting the urge to simultaneously vomit and kill herself, Mouse drummed out a terse reply to Serpent, instructing him to come to her lab for orders. Why, oh why would Caleb ask her to deal with this imbecile. She gritted her teeth and dosed up on a small amount of her proprietary psychadellic, which she called Spacedust, to calm down.

Barely ten minutes passed by before Serpent swung the lab door open, practically slamming it, wearing a particularly annoying and garish grin on his face.

"Hey, what's up Squeaks?" Another iritating nickname he foolishly came up with. "How long've you been out for?"

A thousand different methods to murder this man blazed through Mouse's mind, but she eventually let out the breath she'd been holding without doing anything drastic.

"Do. Not. Call. Me. That." She ground her teeth for a moment before continuing. "Give me whatever orders you've recieved and I will decide on a course of action."

"Alright Mousy, simmer down," He said, putting his hands out as if he had been greatly offended. "Caleb told me to see you about distributing our latest concoction. He says you've got routes planned, people to sell to, all that jazz."

Flopping nonchalantly down on Mouse's coach, he crossed one leg over another, trying to come off as more intelligent than he really was.

"Let's knock those fucking stripes right outta the park, shall we?"

Dropping her head into her hands, Nisa thought for a moment. "Very well, Mr. Lopez. I do indeed have plenty of routes and contacts, some of which I might even need you to contact or oversee. However, let's make something perfectly transparent. Again. You will address me as Ms. Verion, or I will leave you writhing on the floor for hours, experiencing pain the likes of which is uncomparable. Isn't that right, boys?" She glared sidelong at her assistants, who had frozen up at the mention of one of her infamous punishments. They'd both been on the recieving end of Mouse's wrath at one point, and were more than eager to avoid such measures if at all possible.

Either through underestimated bravery or sheer stupidity, Mouse's sinister threats did not phase Serpent all that much. However, to avoid an unnecessary confrontation, he simply rolled his eyes and forced a smile.

"Yes ma'am, missus boss ma'am."

Mouse fished around in her desk, looking for her maps of Golem territory on which she'd drawn out the Golem drug dealing locations and distribution lines. They changed weekly depending on sales and resistance put up by the Tigers and Police. This week's routes were detailed on map 'B'. She waved the document at Fernando. "Memorize this and then burn it. I don't want this information falling into the wrong hands. Should my routes get hit more often than ususal, I'll know it was you who leaked the information. Neither of us want that to happen, I assure you."

"Of course. Death before dishonor," Serpert remarked, making a fist to emphasize his undying loyalty to the Golems. "Don't worry Mo- Miss Verion, we'll be making mad bands in no time."

"Hmm... See to it that we do. You're dismissed." Mouse turned away from Fernando to continue sorting out her mailbox.

---

The sun was sending off a radiant glow, giving Fort Blackburn an almost otherwordly appearance that masked the reality of what the city really was. Families were heading out to enjoy the tranquility the day offered them; trips to the mall, a bike ride down a trail, or a pleasant stroll through the park. Dylan was trying to enjoy the morning euphoria by taking a walk through the park's rolling greenspaces, however, his mood wasn't having any of it. Last night, he had made a brash decision to apprehend a sniper affiliated with the Golems that had taken potshots at the Mavericks' night patrol team. While there had been no reprimand from Jay for his foolhardy action, Dylan knew he would get the inevitable scolding from his team leader on the next patrol. He stopped and rested his arms on top of the railing of a wooden bridge that passed over a small creek. Off in the distance, Dylan could see a young girl being pushed by her father on the playground swingset, which was encompassed by a sandbox. He closed his eyes to try and enjoy the silence, though like all good things, it came to an end.

"Bitch of a night shift, huh?" A voice pierced Dylan's ears as he turned his head to glance at the source of the voice.

"Yeah, something like that." Dylan replied back as he gauged the man before him. The man appeared to be friendly enough, or was trying to be. His light brown khaki shorts and navy blue polo shirt was giving off the appeal of a genuine person, but Dylan's instincts were giving the opposite impression. The clean-shaven face and sleek haircut the man had only added to the facade.

"I've been there man, it sure is brutal." The man smiled as he sauntered up and took up a spot next to Dylan. "The whole thing gets tiresome, and sometimes you just need a release to get away from it all."

"Right, apart from binging on liquour and abusing painkillers, there isn't much else." Dylan scoffed, which only made the man burst into laughter.

"Well you could do that." The man stated once he stopped laughing, and leaned over to pull something out of his pocket. Dylan's eyes traveled down and narrowed as the man pulled out a small sandwich bag, noticing immediately what was in it.

"Isn't that Cotton Candy? You can't be going around with that stuff." He looked up at the man with an astonished look on his face.

"Who says I can't? To everyone else, it'll look like I'm enjoying a nice piece of heavenly sweetness. Here, try some and you'll see for yourself." The man opened the bag and plucked out a few pieces and placed them into Dylan's hand, he then pulled out a card and added it to the Pink pills. "This is just a small sample, if you liked what you enjoyed then I can get you more. However, it will cost you to acquire more of this pleasure. On that card is a time and place of where you can get more, if you're interested." The man looked around for a bit, then went off his way. Dylan just stood there stunned as he observed the man walking out of sight, the drug samples still in the palm of his hand. In all his life, Dylan had never encountered such a moment as he did just now. However, if today was anything to go on, then even the most random of occurences are possible. He pulled up his cell phone and dialed in a contact before bringing it up to his face.

"Alex, I know we usually don't interact unless we're on patrol. Something just happened and I still can't comprehend it fully, could you and Jay meet me in Edwin Park?"

Though he was mildly surprised to be talking to Dylan before sundown, Alex, after pausing the video game he was occupying himself with, checked his watch. It was a little early, but fetching Jay was not likely to be a problem.

"Um, sure," Alex replied, getting up to look for his keys. "Somethin' wrong?"

"Depends." Dylan looked down at his hand, the pills resting on the palm. "I just had someone offer me samples of Pink."

"Wait, just outta the blue?" Alex couldn't believe what he was hearing. Was this drug really that common?

"Yup, just outta the blue." He walked down from the bridge and leaned against a tree. "The guy even told me where to get more tonight, if I wanted to buy Pink."

"Huh." Alex scratched the beginnings of a goatee on his chin. "Really? Hmm... any reason he came to you, or was it just random?"

"I want to believe it was just random. Anyways, I think this could provide a good lead for us." Dylan pocketed the sandwich bag. "We could find out who's making and distributing the stuff."

"Well, we're still waitin' on Alice's research. You said you got the address, right?"

"Affirmative, right here along with the time when it's going to happen." He confirmed.

"Great." There was a brief pause as Alex thought. "You mind pretendin' to be a customer? So we can ambush 'em."

"Go undercover?" Dylan scratched the side of his head. "I think that could work, I got some old clothes that could help in fitting in, also it won't draw attention to myself."

"Fantastic, it'll lead us right to the bastards." Alex, now heading for Jay's, turned to lock his door before resuming the conversation. "Wanna wait 'til nighttime before we find you?"

"Works for me, I'll head back to my place to get clothes ready for tonight." Dylan turned and started to make his way back home. "I'll text you the location of where to meet."

Alex nodded to himself, jogging down the staircase. "A'ight, sounds good man. We'll see you then."

---

There was always an uneasy, palpable air of perilousness when the sun set on the south-east end, keeping any citizen with basic survival instincts off the streets and away from unlit alleyways. Ever since Pink was trotted out, the uneasiness was only exemplified, with the Tigers and Golems prancing around, looking for anyone foolish enough to participate in their latest scheme. On top of a throne of broken boxes, Serpent sat with a pleased grin, watching his men siphon out the latest batch into bags that would be sold to passers-by. An uncouth snicker escaped his mouth as one of his peons graffitied an anti-Tiger message on the side of a brick wall.

"Alright, enough of that Jones," Serpent said, clearing his throat. "We don't wanna scare off any customers."

Speaking of the devil, a line of potential customers began to form, waiting to get their next fix of the drug. All of them had received the notice of where and when the next Pink sale was going to take place. Dylan entered the alleyway where the deal was going to happen, looking ahead to see a string of people leading up to a man sitting on top of a makeshift throne. Dressed in a track jacket and old torn denim pants, Dylan made an effort to compose himself in a manner that conveyed he lived in, or at least was familiar with the south-east. He brought a hand up to his right ear, flicked it with a finger before bringing his hand back down to his side.

"I'm in position." Dylan moved forward, getting in line behind a twitchy red haired fellow. "Looks like the guy sitting on top of the boxes is in charge of all this."

Crouched on a rooftop nearby, her real eye observing the scene like divine judgement, Shade nodded and focused her attention on the man on the boxes. His presence made her crinkle her nose in disgust.

"Copy that, I see him."

"Someone should really slap the smug grin off his face." He remarked with disdain as a satisfied customer marched past him, grinning excitedly at his purchase. Minutes rolled by as the line dwindled down, until Dylan himself was standing in front of the guy sitting on the boxes.

"So, I hear what you're selling is the best around. What makes it so much better than what others are selling?"

When Dylan spoke up Serpent's gaze lazily shifted over to him, staring vacantly for a moment before a self-assured grin saturated his face.

"Because we're the most organized syndicate around." He explained as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Those other guys are just selling whatever they get their dirty little paws on. We refine our product."

"Well, I'll take your word for it." Dylan smirked, then crossed his arms. "However, I'm guessing that it doesn't come cheap. What are your prices?"

"How much do ya need brother?"

"Just enough to get me through a week."

Serpent nodded and turned to one of his assistants.

"Franklin, two bags."

He swiveled back around, wearing his trademark sly grin.

"That'll be a hundred dollars my good man."

"A hundred dollars, this better be worth it." Dylan sighed as he pulled out his wallet and shifted through it. He brought out five twenty dollar bills and handed the money over. Leaving Serpent with a contented smile on his face, Dylan nodded his thanks when the assistant gave him the bags of Pink. He spun around and trekked out of the alleyway.

"Go for it." Dylan whispered into the radio once he made it a safe distance away.

Serpent shifted the twenties between his fingers, chuckling softly to himself as he did. Once he confirmed that he had taken a hundred dollars from a hard working man, he glanced up and into the night sky. Then he brought his vision back down.

"What in the..."

Once he realized who was approaching, Serpent let out a pitiful yelp and awkwardly fumbled off the boxes, landing on his hands and knees.

"Holy shit, it's Shade, everyone scram!"

Shade scoffed. Criminals were a superstitious lot, bolstering a false confidence that easily crumbled when someone stronger opposed them. Only a few did not immediately flee, and after glancing a few times at the boxes of Pink, they too turned tail. Those left merely gawked.

"Leave."

No drug fix was worth picking a fight with a Mav. The line quickly dispersed, leaving Shade alone with the evidence. She turned to the fallen tower of boxes that Serpent was residing on a few moments prior, hoping to collect evidence against him.

"The coast is clear Dylan, come help me with these boxes."

"Rght." He replied back, a few seconds later he reemerged back in the alleyway. "Well there goes a hundred bucks I'll probably never get back. Are we looking for anything specific Shade?"

"I'll buy you a puppy," she snarked, kneeling next to the collasped pile of narcotics. "Fingerprints would be our best bet. We need Crow to capture that man though."

"I'm sure Scarecrow can track him down." Dylan acknowledged as he got to work on checking the boxes. A few minutes into the search, he started to get the feeling that they weren't alone. Scarecrow was off chasing the man they needed, but the sense they were being watched wouldn't go away.

"Shade, are you getting the feeling someone is watching us?"

She was not, but Shade looked up regardless. Against the moonlight she could faintly make out the vague shape of a human being, but it quickly dissipated into the dark.

"Hmm... let's hurry up here."

---

"Oh fuck, Nisa's gonna kill me," Serpent thought with increasing panic, leaning against a dilapidated wall to catch his breath. As much as he wanted Mouse to just look the other way when he would come in reporting a lost quantity of Pink, he knew it wouldn't happen and he'd probably pay dearly. Still, it was probably better than having a few necessary bones broken and a twenty year sentence in prison.

"Man, I really need to exercise more."

Scarecrow chuckled lightly at Serpent's complaint, and when his spine-chilling laughter penetrated Serpent's ear the man practically screeched. Flipping around in sudden, gripping terror, Serpent barely had a moment to see the Scarecrow before his stomach was gripped in a shadowy tendril. He instinctively began to struggle, but it was of no use; all he could do was look up into the Scarecrow's pale yellow eyes and gawk.

"You'll have plenty of time to exercise... in prison."