Angela Petrelli and Noah Bennet

Central Park, New York. USA



The woman sat on the park bench as the sun set, her hands folded neatly in her lap as she waited for her appointment to arrive, brushing her hair back with her hand, she saw him from a hundred metres away, but made no outward reaction to his presence, instead waiting for him to sit beside her before she addressed him.

‘Its about time that you turned up’ she snapped crankily, not turning to look at him as he sat, his horn rimmed glasses bouncing the fading light. ‘I was beginning to worry that something actually had happened to you’

‘I had a few loose ends to tie up beforehand, Angela’ Noah Bennet said, keeping a watchful eye out as only a trained agent could have ‘I know why you called me here as well...’

‘Indeed. Nathan has overstepped his boundaries by far’ Angela Petrelli remained impassive as she stated the situation ‘He has brought that dog Danko in to hunt each and every one of us down, and its beginning to get desperate. I think it’s time to strike back. We need to activate the Caterpillars’

‘You can’t be serious’ Noah said, turning to address her directly for the first time that evening ‘Do we have the resources to pull off something like that?’

‘We still have The Cocoon’ Angela nodded ‘And I’m sure a few of your protégés and apprentices are working as Danko’s men, as well as my own agents working in amongst them. You have the files for our caterpillars still, I’m sure. Everything is as it should be. In fact, I’ve taken the liberty of moving the Haitian to chase our number three.’

‘Zanackas? Last seen in England.’ Noah remembered ‘Alright, I’ll have Jordan pick up our mystery man in Washington. Yo-yo can look for the others in New York. I’ll get things ready at the Cocoon, Help them if I have too. I’ll need Mills’ help with the twins, though’

‘I’m sure she’ll be...co-operative’ Angela smiled, turning to leave ‘Anything else?’

‘Yes’ Noah said, sighig and stretching out ‘What about Rebel?’

‘Leave that to me’ Angela smiled walking away





Across the country, a single text hit ten phones at the exact same moment:

‘ Flee while you still can. They’re on your doorstep. Will contact you once you get free.



I am your last hope’

It was then that the strange men and women in the suits came; doorknocking, stalking, asking questions at hospitals. One thing was for sure, the caterpillars did not have long to obey the messages of their mysterious benefactor before the government got to them.



TAG: EVERYONE

Seph Draemure

Slums, NYC

Seph Draemure dodged into the dark alleyway, breathing hard. He'd just escaped from a rather angry gang that seemed to have formed last night. At least, they weren't there yesterday; Klindor St. had been free territory. Something Seph would have to look into.

Not now, though. Right now, he was focused on catching his breath, so he could finish his rounds before the sun rose. The Scorpians paid pretty well for good information. Not that he'd had much of a choice in the matter.

At least this secondary 'job' gave him enough to buy more than the necessities. The phone he'd just bought was sure to come in handy. He'd given his number to at least seven different possible employers.

The phone vibrated in his jacket pocket. Seph pulled it out, surprised anyone would be calling so early in the morning. Even more surprising was that the sender had sent a text message. He brought it up, and stared at the tiny screen for a moment. There was a single line:





The sound of a large vehicle coming around the corner made Seph jump. He snapped the phone shut, and scanned the surrounding walls for a way out. It was a dead-end alley, no windows, no fire escapes. The walls were rather rough, and Seph chose that as his best bet. The large vehicle had stopped, close by, too.

Thinking quickly, Seph decided to use a couple smoke bombs. A guy had been selling an arsenal of weapons a couple months back, trying to get easy cash.
The cops had gotten him, but not before Seph had gotten the information he'd needed.

He closed his eyes, focusing on the make-up of the bombs, picturing three in his hands. Once he felt them materialize, he quickly opened his eyes, and immediately set the bombs loose. One farther down the alley, near the corner heading out to the street. One, a couple dozen paces away; and one right near him.

He could hear shouting now, and the cocking of guns, which told him to move faster. He grasped a protruding brick, and hauled himself up, before grabbing another one, beginning his upward climb. Smoke bombs wouldn't hold off guns forever.

A moment later, he was at the top, and running. A few bullets whined overhead, but Seph knew he was safe as long as he kept moving. He knew the city like the back of his hand, and he was sure the gun-toters didn't. In fact, he was betting his life on it.

TAG: Everybody

Agnes Montefuego

Los Angeles, California

"Do not bring us to the test, but deliver us from evil..."
Beep beep. "New text message received", Agnes' phone displayed. She stood up from kneeling and read the text that had interrupted her while praying. "Flee while you still can. They’re on your doorstep. Will contact you once you get free". Wh-wh-what, who is this? she thought. Suddenly she heard cars screech and stop outside. peeking out the window, she saw shadowed figures hustling, then she heard a knock on the door downstairs.

At that moment Agnes felt fear; the same fear she felt back when her family was in Italy; how the house burned down with those henchmen, how they managed to escape, her aunt's death, the persecution by her neighbors. Maybe they're here to hunt us down; But it's unlikely since our whereabouts are unknown now; I've got to know if this is still them or if this is another danger, she thought, teary eyed. Nevertheless, she sought strength in her prayer. "Amen", she finished it. Afterward, she went downstairs to open the door, her orange flames at the ready.

3 agents met her face. before they could fire their tranquilizer guns, Agnes launched her flames at them, thus scorching them. "Forgive me, Lord", she said. seeing that the back up were coming, she ran inside to the living room, then hid in the chimney. she had to escape this, then perhaps go to her family in Tolluca Lake. looking up the chimney into the night sky above, she thought of an idea, but was uncertain if it would work. she focused her feelings of anger on to her feet, with red flames now emanating from it. with a forceful feet stamp, the red flames propelled her up the chimney, and out of the house flying. Whoa, unbelievable, she said. she landed a few yards away, enough for her to fully escape. going out to the road, she hailed an incoming taxi, then went in. "To the train station, please."

TAG:EVERYONE

Jorge Vallegras--Dallas, Texas

Jorge hated walking home. Having to hoof it back and forth from school, even as a child of a widowed Mexican immigrant, was embarrassing. He probably hated the reason why he was walking home more, however, and what made it sting all the more was that it was his fault.

Jorge's car wasn't really much--some mid-'90s sedan--but it was a car, a gift from Ernesto, a family friend that helped out from time to time. A Hispanic community was a tight community, the thing that has gotten the waves of Latino immigrants through the rigors of adjusting to life in the Estados Unidos, in America.

Not that Jorge was really concerned with things like that. He was raised here, he knows the language and the culture and what is expected of an American teenager. Which brings up the issue of the car.

Some random jock--they're all over Texas, and they rule high-school society--decided that Jorge's girlfriend was too good for him. That jock got it into his little tiny brain that the skinny little beaner--Jorge, in other words--shouldn't be hanging out with a cute Anglo chick. A week ago, he tried to force himself on her at school, and she told Jorge. Being the firebrand he was, he picked a fight with the ****** after school.

That didn't work out too well, obviously. Jorge was strong for his size, but he was no match for most guys in a fistfight. As he was picking himself up from the dirt, the jock contemptuously shoved him down with his foot.

That was when Jorge used his ability.

After three years of use, he still wasn't sure what exactly it was. All he knew was that he could use his voice to influence people, make them see and feel what isn't there...and hide what was there. Experimentation had opened a wide avenue of possibilities, possibilities that Jorge used a week ago, flushed with anger and shame.

He caused tons of hairy, gross spiders to crawl up and down the dude's arms. He made him feel the thousands of tiny bodies skitter across his exposed flesh. The young man saw a swarm of spiders all over him, and panicked so severely he fell into a state of shock, and it was all caused by a ten-second hiss from Jorge's mouth.

It was all an illusion, of course, but it still didn't stop the dude's friends from trashing his car...once the peabrains got over their fear of him, of course. The whole school was buzzing with what had happened, and it made Jorge feel very uncomfortable...especially after hearing that senator dude talking about "hidden threats" on the tube a while ago...

He walked into the door, dumped his backpack on the floor, and turned on the TV. As he flipped through the channels, absently looking for a distraction to ease his ever-present boredom, his cell phone buzzed in his pocket.

Thinking it was his girl, Jorge took his time cracking the thing open and calling up the message. What he read had his immediate attention:

"Flee while you still can. They’re on your doorstep. Will contact you once you get free."

Obviously not his girl.

Jorge leaped up and looked out the window. No one was there, but that still didn't ease his discomfort. It occured to him that it might be a joke, but the number was unlisted...it was no one he knew. Hell, most people he knew didn't have the smarts or the English to type this!

Jorge looked back at the phone, and the next message decided him:

"I am your last hope"

As he finished reading, he heard a car screeching to a halt near his house.

Startled, Jorge retreated to the kitchen and tried to clear his thoughts. There was no choice; he had to use his gift. But not to attack--there would be too many for that. No, not to attack.

To hide.

Jorge sang, one low, long note. He sang of nonbeing, of not being there, of blending perfectly into the enviroment around him. He sang in order to live, to be free. The air shimmered around him, and he knew that his illusion worked, that anyone who could hear his song wouldn't know he was even there.

As the suited men came to tag and bag Jorge Vallegras, he dodged around them, left through the open front door, and took to his heels. He still sang the low note that kept him hidden from all eyes.

Once he got seven blocks away from his house, he snuck inside a store, locked himself in the public restroom, and thought frantically about what to do next. He clutched his cell phone, the one link he had to whoever saved his bacon.

He had to find this person. He had to find a way to pay them back.

But first, he needed to get the hell out of Dallas.

Tag: Everyone

Alexander Graber
~ Buffalo, New York

Alexander Graber slumped over on the couch felt sick to his stomach. He knew instantly he’d gone to far this time. The room of his apartment was littered with Jack Daniels, Captain Morgan, and even something called Mad Dog 20/20, he didn’t even remember buying that one. He tried pushing himself up, feeling himself stumble, his stomach doing flips as his body tried to right itself. The room was spinning as he moved around the coffee table, slamming his shin into the corner. Out of reaction he winced, even though the alcohol had long since dulled any pain he would feel.

He stumbled along slamming his shoulder into a wall trying to keep balance. His stomach was still turning. Cursing softly he banged his head into the wall. His mind still held the image of one of the newest patients. A young boy. The fears in the child’s head.

Alexander felt his stomach rise again, feeling the sick in his throat. He saw what happened, the nightmare the boy must have every night. His breath becoming shallower, his stomach rising still. The boy had seen his parents, murdered, chopped up, as well as his older brother. The images from the poor boy were seared into Alexander’s mind. It was then, with the resurgences of the gruesome images that his stomach emptied. He collapsed against the wall, feeling the sick liquid beneath him as he floated into unconsciousness.

He didn’t know how much time had passed. The vomit he was half laying had long since dried. His head ached, as he tried to stand. Slowly he made his way into his room and changed out of the vomit covered mess he was in. Nothing special, a shirt and jeans. He didn’t have work, and sure as hell didn’t plan on going back out, so he decided not to take a shower.

Again, he made his way to the kitchen, keeping one hand on the wall, half to keep standing, half to reassure himself that everything was there. Opening the fridge he grabbed a bottle of water and took a swig. It was nice to have something that wouldn’t slowly kill him in his stomach. He reached for the aspirin bottle he kept in the open, so he wouldn’t worry about finding it in the mornings.

He held the pills in his hand as something on the counter started to vibrate. His eyes traveled to his pager, cursing, thinking that someone had skipped out and he’d have to fill in. “Johnson the ******…” he muttered as he picked up the pager. But it was still dark, not lightening up. “What…” He blinked down at the thing, still hearing the vibration. His eyes went back to see the small screen on his cell phone lit up.

Groaning, he picked it up, becoming even more annoyed. He didn’t give the number out to anyone, so who the hell was calling him. Flipping the damned thing open he saw an envelope on the screen. More and more he was annoyed at this interruption of his self destructive spiral.

Then the words appeared: Flee while you still can. They’re on your doorstep. Will contact you once you get free.

I am your last hope

He cursed slamming the phone shut. “bastards…leave me alone,” he said to know one. Making his way back to the living room, walking through scattered empty bottles, he decided to clear his head and go for a walk. Which was the last thing he really wanted to do. Not wanting to admit it even to himself, the message unnerved him. Maybe it was a good idea to just take a step out.

Grabbing a half empty bottle of jack, because no reason not to at least get some enjoyment, he went to the door and stepped into the hall. No one was there. “Doorstep my ******…” he muttered and made his way to the elevators. Down the hall he heard them ding and the elevator doors open. Men in black suits, with helmets, and rifles. “Aw…F-” he turned into a different hallway and started to feel a panic wash over him. His head still pounded. “Not good…not good.” He muttered repeatedly to himself.

Thinking of nothing else he made his way to the stairs. He almost made it when the doors opened. Two more men in the uniforms came out. Panicking Alexander swung the bottle of Jack into the face of one of them. He heard bone crack, and the glass shatter. The man cried out in pain and Alexander pushed passed them. He ran.

Making his way down the stairs, running way to fast for it to be safe he didn’t hear the second man chasing him. Maybe he was taking care of the man he hit. Another thought crossed his mind. Maybe the blow had been fatal. Alexander felt his stomach bottom out. For a moment he considered heading back, but running into a hornets nest was not the best idea.

He finally made it to the ground floor. In seconds he was on the street. And seconds later he disappeared into the crowd.

tag: Everyone

Shamus O'Conners

Tonawanda, NY

Shamus awoke with a start. Someone was banging on the front door. Drowsily, he put his hand over the clock. It was one his uncle had made, special for the blind. It told time by raised dots, like braille. The banging turned into a crack, and Sham got to his feet in a moment, realizing that that meant someone had broken the door.

Adrenaline pounded in his head as he pulled together some stuff, thoughts racing wildly through his head. Had someone finally connected the trail of destruction to him? He zipped his backpack closed, and slung it over his shoulder. That couldn't have happened... could it? If it wasn't, than who was inside his house now?

He didn't give himself too much time to think. He heard his mother yelling at them. He caught 'don't' and 'my son's room' as pounding footsteps advanced.

Thinking quickly, Sham jammed the door shut with a wooden foldable chair, slid open the window, and vaulted over the sill. He made it halfway to the forest behind his house, when someone tackled him, and he went down. Then, the ringing in his ears started.

A moment later, Sham found himself standing in the backyard. He could smell burning wood, and felt something wet on his hands. It hadn't rained for a couple days, and Sham was uncomfortably sure he knew what the moisture was.

Then, his mother joined him, and together, they wordlessly raced into the forest, leaving behind a scene of chaos. There was one thought, and one thought only that was occupying Sham's brain:

What the hell was all that about?

TAG: Everybody

Jill Safford
Iowa 80 Truck Stop

The former Judith Sharpe felt every day of her sixty years as she stared at her laptop; browsing the site for her hometown newspaper, she came across her mother's obituary. She had missed her father's funeral too, a few years ago, and she wondered if her odd inability to age was just an excuse to never go home. Only so many of her life's troubles could be blamed on this quirk of biology, her estrangement from her family wasn't one of them.

She had been making good time hauling this shipment, so she stopped here for a break, taking advantage of a hot shower, a load of laundry, and access to wi-fi internet. She loved her laptop, having only just been able to afford one a few years ago--so much to read, watch, listen to, and do all tied up in a tiny package. She remembered the first bulky, beige PCs she encountered in the computer lab at the high school in Attica back in the 1980s, and this sleek little machine was just as novel now as that monster was then. Her cell phone was also the height of current technology, but she didn't bother with it as much. Who was she going to call anyway? Mostly it was for emergencies.

Jill was startled from her reverie as her seldom-used cell phone buzzed a text message. She frowned; it was anonymous, and likely junk. She opened it to read: Flee while you can. They're on your doorstep. Will contact you once you get free. I am your last hope.

She sighed and turned off her laptop, placing it back in its case and the case into her duffel bag, which held practically everything she owned. She didn't know what the anonymous sender was playing at, but she guessed that somebody at the trucking company's headquarters got wind of the fact that her identity wasn't her own, and apparently things like Social Security fraud were serious business. She wanted to send a text back, probably saying something like "I don't have a doorstep, I have a truck, and there are 800 here at the stop. I'm not worried." However, as much as she tried to keep up with current technology, she was still a sixty-year-old woman when it came to texting, fumbling with the buttons everytime, so she didn't bother.

She shouldered her bag and headed towards the parking lot. If she really was being pursued, she'd be more vulnerable there out in the open, but she figured if she could get to her truck she could put distance between herself and them, and perhaps make this final shipment before changing her identity all over again.

She laughed, a hollow sound deep in her throat. Besides, she thought, what can anyone really do to hurt me?

Tag: Necro

Robert Zanackas
Bristol, England

Even though Robert had gained rapid control over his ability, due to his need for it, every now and then there was an instance where during the night, his ability would startle him awake. The slightest noise made a soundwave, which his ability picked up on and subsequently forced Robert out of his dreams.

This was the case tonight. Over on his desk laid his cellphone, which vibrated when it received a new text message. Robert awoke with a start, and bleary eyed, mentally cursed at the piece of technology. He got up from his bed and walked over to his phone, wondering which of his friends he would have to pop in the back of the head for messaging him at two in the morning.

"Flee while you still can. They’re on your doorstep. Will contact you once you get free. I am your last hope." the message read, from an anonymous source. Before Robert could even question if it was a prank, he heard the door to his apartment forced open. Almost instinctively, Robert negated the sound in his room so that he couldn’t be heard shuffling around. He quickly grabbed a set of clothes and a few personal items before he heard men start knocking down various doors in the building, trying to find him.

Knowing that time was pressing and now more coherent, Robert grabbed his chair and hefted it at the window, shattering the glass and slipped into the dark morning without making a sound. When the men reached his room, all they saw was a shattered window, while left wondering why they hadn’t heard it break.

[Tag: Me in a bit to end it, I guess]

Noah Bennet
The Cocoon
Location Undisclosed

Noah Bennet moved through the Cocoon lazily, runnig his hands along the familiar walls as he smugly smiled, taking it all back in. This was home..Not Costa Verde. He was finally back to doing what he truly wanted to do; make a difference to those more highly evolved than the standard average joe.

Moving to the central computer, Noah brought up numerous screens of security footage that had been leaked from the Patriot Act. Perfect, he thought smiling, checking to see that his Caterpillars weren't in any immediate danger before bringing up Skype, rifling through his numbers before clicking on two names: 'Jordan' and 'Rodriguez'

'Jordan here' a youngish man answered immediately, his voice being drowned out briefly by the encryption key setting in.

'Kyle, I'm sure you recognize who this is and where I'm calling from...'

'Noah?' Kyle Jordan exclaimed

'Kyle, how's our caterpillars coming along?' Bennet asked 'I need agents to help with getting the others...something tells me Danko's been quiet for a little too long' Bennet said coldly 'I'm going to need caterpillars to free up the others if it gets ugly'

'I've got one that should be at The Cocoon within a day at the most. Our pyrotechnic that you sent me the file for' Kyle replied 'I'll have her on a train to you by morning, I promise'

'Make it happen' Noah said 'and then I want you up in Washington. Something tells me number 5 may be get himself in trouble'

'Alright' Kyle said, trudging through to the cab, overtipping the cab driver to follow Agnes' cab to the train station 'Jordan out'

'Yolande' Noah said immediately, hardly blinking 'Same I told Kyle. We need those agents now before Danko mobilizes'

'Getting there, Noah' Yo-yo said through gritted teeth 'I'm just trying to track our human arsenal here through the slums'

'Make it happen' Noah said, hanging up and rubbing his temples.

He just wished they still had as much time on the clock as he was hoping.

TAG: Matt, CLembeaR. The rest of you keep dodging agents. Zensu, I'll have your agent pop up in the morning.

Agnes Montefuego

Los Angeles, California

Agnes finally felt comfort and security inside the cab. Good thing she had her phone and wallet in her jeans pocket. She looked at the back of the cab, then noticed that another cab was following her. "Oh no, they're following me." She thought. Then she told the driver to speed up. After some time they finally arrived at the train station, with the other cab still following them there. Agnes paid the driver and quickly got out, and walked with alacrity towards the station entrance.

"Agnes, wait, I'm not with them, I'm here to give you safety" someone shouted to her. She turned and face the stranger. "Hi, I'm Kyle Jordan. Listen, I'm just like you", he said. "how do i know?" she said. Kyle led her to a nearby inconspicuous place. "Place your hands on mine, then make some flames. but don't scorch me", he said. Agnes did so reluctantly, producing green flames. "Worried, huh? don't be" he said. "How did you know?" she said. He said, "I have some info about you and your ability. your flame color changes according to your emotions. red for angry, blue for sad, green for worried. orange's kinda your default color. now let's see if i can make them go all out at once".

Agnes felt something from Kyle's hand go to her hands, then to her whole body. suddenly she felt warm and energized. her heart beat faster, as if pumping adrenaline to her veins. her mind raced with emotions. the green flames on her hands turned to red, orange, blue... then to violet, pink, yellow, until they all combined to a magnificent fireworks display. "Do you believe me now? So let's get you out of here right away", he said. Agnes just nodded, and they went to the station, bought a ticket, then got Agnes on board the train. After they bade goodbye, Agnes stared out the window and felt relieved. "I'm not alone after all".

TAG: Necropath

Shamus O'Conners

Somewhere in Pennsylvania

It was raining again. Sham pulled the jacket he'd grabbed closer, wishing it was his thicker one. The one that was still ashes, sitting among the ashes of their previous house. His mother walked beside him, looking stoic. She'd refused to talk about the incident, several times. But Sham was nervous, and he needed someone to talk to.

"Mom," he said, "We need to talk"

"There's no reason to dwell on the past" she answered crisply.

"No, Mom. There is" Sham said, stopping and facing her, "Because I think 'that past' is going to be a problem. Now and in the future"

His mother had stopped walking, too. Now she was standing four paces away, her back to Sham.

"Those weren't government agents" she said quietly.

"Well then, what were they?" Sham demanded, "They sure sounded like government agents to me"

Sham's mother was quiet, so he continued, "I know they after me"

"You don't know-" she began, turning around.

"It's a two person house, and walked right past you, towards MY room. They were after me"

"They could have been there to help. It's possible they were just-" She sighed.

There was silence for a moment, then Sham spoke, "I'm not six. I'm sixteen. I know those were government agents, I know they were after me, and I don't- I- I feel lost. I have this- ability- and it's dangerous. I can't control it, I can't- I don't know anybody who's like me"

For a long moment, neither of them said anything. Sham walked up to his mom, "I feel like I'm alone in a dangerous place. And knowing that that could be exactly what is happening is terrifying. What are we going to do? We can't just keep running"

His mother sighed, "I don't know, Sham. I really don't"

TAG: Everyone

Jorge Vallegras--Dallas

It was midnight, on the same day that he was forced to flee his home, that Jorge went to see Ernesto.

Ernesto was about forty years old, shorter than Jorge but built very stocky--well-suited to be the mechanic he was. His hobby is what made him interesting, though. Ernesto lived near a junkyard in the industrial districts of Dallas, and he used parts from that yard to help him salvage cars.

Jorge had gotten his first car in this manner. Sure, it was a piece of crap compared to the sweet rides the other kids had, but it was a car. If the jocks hadn't scrapped it..Jorge stopped himself. His song was powerful, but it couldn't blank the memory of a car for very long. Besides, it was registered to him, so it was easy to trace. Standing in the shadow of a two-story building, his ability shielding him from human eyes, Jorge's thoughts sped back to when this whole mess started.

Sitting in that bathroom, just minutes after escaping those suited men, he had been in a total panic. He sat on the toilet, trying to calm his nerves and think about what to do next.

Obviously, he had to leave the city. Staying was out of the question, with the government involved--and it was the government, Jorge told himself. No other group could do something like this. He may not pay attention as much as the next kid, but even Jorge knew something of America's dubious history of persecution and witch-hunting. This was merely the next chapter.

Next, he thought about what direction he should take. South was an impossibility; there was nothing for him in Mexico...at least if you didn't count the border patrol. If Jorge were caught by them, it would be almost as bad as the suited men--horror stories of the patrol have been told for years by the illegals that survived the dangerous trek across the Rio Grande. Also, they were sure to hand him over to the suits, and he was dog meat if he allowed that to happen.

So, not south. East?

East were major population centers, notably Houston. But hiding in Houston would seem futile somehow, and the fourth-largest city in the U.S. wasn't the best place to hide without help, and he had no one there. Running further east would take him to the Deep South, and no self-respecting Latino would mingle with the hillbillies there. That area would be heavily watched as well because of the amount of people living there. East wasn't a sexy option.

North and west were what remained, then.

West sounded better to Jorge. Going north would take him to open areas and sparse populations, but there weren't many people to blend in with should he need to go to ground. Also, someone of his age and race would be noticed in the Midwest, especially outside the urban centers. Even if he remained nameless, he would stick out in a crowd, and he couldn't have that. Jorge can't sing all day, after all.

The western part of Texas, New Mexico, and Arizona had sizable Hispanic populations he could easily blend in with. The land was mostly flat and grassy, which meant that ground pursuit could be easily spotted. He had a distant relation somewhere in Tuscon--but to a Latino, "distant relation" practically meant "close sibling". If Jorge could get there..

Which led him to this spot, waiting for the right time to approach his friend.

He had called Ernesto after he made up his mind to go west. He merely said that his car was trashed, and he needed a temporary ride. He told Ernesto that a gang of kids had busted it up and threatened to kill him, and that he needed to leave Dallas...a white lie, but he couldn't let Ernesto know the real reason he was leaving. He had agreed to give Jorge a car, as well as other necessities. A family friend and a giving man, Ernesto would bend over backwards to help Jorge and his mom.

Jorge looked at the timer on his phone, saw the big 12:00 looking back at him, and walked towards Ernesto's trailer. He continued to hum the toneless note needed to blend in with the nightly sounds. A cricket chirping, cars whizzing by on the nearby street, people hacking away cigarette smoke...Jorge lost himself in the shuffle of minute sounds, hoping to lose others as well. When he reached the door of the trailer, he ceased his humming and rapped on the bad plastic.

("Not so damn loud, man!"), a rough voice in Spanish admonished him. ("You wanna wake the dead?")

Jorge whirled around to face the speaker, and Ernesto stared back at him, his ugly face crinkled in a wide grin that showed off cracking teeth. Unlike Jorge, he was almost pure Azteca, which explained his short stature and wide face. Grabbing the younger man by the arm, Ernesto led him over to the back of the trailer.

("I just finished this truck the other day, man. She doesn't run too smooth, but she'll get you where you wanna go,") he said in rapid Spanish. ("The basic parts are all good, but the A/C sucks. It'll be rough for you if it gets hot, man. And it will get hot in April, believe me.")

Jorge said, ("I don't care about that, I just need to disappear for a few days, lie low. I gotta wait till this **** blows over.") Disappear for a few days...what a laugh...as far as Jorge was concerned, he won't ever return to Dallas.

Ernesto replied, ("Whatever man, isn't the first time you've taken a trip, and it won't be the last, way you keep living life! Been taking care of you and your mama since you were about this high")--here he lowered his hand to below his knee--("and I guess I'll have to take more care of you, least till you can take care of yourself. Even your pretty singing can't get you everything,") he finished with a meaningful look at Jorge.

Ernesto had caught him using his ability two years ago, when Jorge still was experimenting with projecting images. While shocked witless at first, he'd eventually gotten over it. It was a relief for Jorge to be around someone that wouldn't get suspicious whenever they felt or saw something out of place. It gave him somewhere where he could be himself, fully and totally.

Ernesto led Jorge over to the truck, an old beat-up thing similar to everything else the mechanic owned. It was colored in faded blue and tan hues, and the make was somewhere in between a 70's Chevy pickup and something else salvaged by Ernesto. The cab looked comfortable, with one long plush seat dominating the interior; Jorge could sleep in the cab if he really needed to, and sleep in some comfort.

A small bundle was in the passenger side of the cab, a bag with food, spare clothes, and $200 in cash--most of Ernesto's savings--inside. The short man handed Jorge the keys, said goodbye, and left for the trailer. As Jorge heard the door slam, he blinked back a tear, realizing that this could be the last time he ever saw that sweet man, the closest thing to a father he could ever have, in his life.

He started the car, revved up the engine, and drove west. He never looked back...not that it would have done him much good.


Several hundred yards away, inside a plain-painted van, a young woman lowered a pair of night-vision goggles, a satisfied look on her face. She turned to her companion--a tall, hulking man--and said, "The boy's really leaving! I told them so." She whipped out a cell phone.

She dialed up a number, then waited. After a time, she said, "Vallegras has left the city. I've got the plate number and color of the vehicle, and the address of his benefactor." After giving this information to the person on the phone, she listened for a bit, then said "Understood" and hung up.

"We're following him," she told the tall man. "We are not to go near him--just shadow him. Others will question the guy Vallegras visited, but the boy himself will be left free for now. If we're lucky, he'll lead us to whomever's been sending those handy messages to our targets. If not...well, he by himself would still be quite the catch, eh?"

The woman gave her partner a wolfish grin, then started her van and left in pursuit of Jorge.

Tag: Everyone

Jim Redding
Seattle, WA

Jim woke up, stretching and yawning. He'd come in from a helluva good time with some friends late, and it was coming up on noon now that he was waking up.

Rolling a little, he fell a few inches onto the floor and then looked up at the couch he'd been laying on.

'Oh yeah... I slept there instead of the bed... Note to self: Rolling on couch is bad.'

Grunting, he pushed himself up off of the floor, pulling the previous night's dirty shirt off as he walked to the kitchen of his studio apartment. Wasn't the greatest place to live, but he could be doin' a hell of a lot worse, for the price he was paying here in Seattle. He grabbed the apple juice container out from the fridge and took a big swig from it.

Jim bent a bit, looking into his fridge to see what to have for breakfast. He'd been asleep for about nine hours, and hadn't eaten for a few before that, and his stomach was definitely reminding him. He grabbed a container of leftover Indian food, thinking 'mmm, vindaloo' as he smelled it, and popped it into the microwave.

"Nothing like spicy-as-hell curry to start off the day," he said to no one in particular.

After the food finished heating up, he grabbed a fork and made quick work of both it and the rest of the apple juice before he heard a soft buzzing sound. A few seconds later, he realized it must be a text message, since there wasn't any ringtone starting, and started looking for his phone. He reached between a couple couch cushions and found it, checking the front to see it saying "Unknown Sender". Texts from restricted numbers like that were pretty uncommon for him, so he flipped it open to see what it had to say:

Flee while you still can. They’re on your doorstep. Will contact you once you get free. I am your last hope.

He raised an eyebrow before sliding the phone into his pocket nonchalantly. Probably one of his friends playing a joke or something. He looked at the clock and realized he needed to get going soon if he was going to get a walk in before going to the dojo, so he went to his dresser and pulled a clean shirt on. Looking down at his pants and deciding they were okay for now, he stashed another pair into his duffel with his gi, a pair he could change into after the class.

There was a knock at the door. It was very persistent, and when he looked through the peephole, he saw two men in official-looking suits. He almost opened the door before noticing the outlines of a gun holster that one of them was wearing. His eyes widened, and he slowly and quietly crept away from the door and over to a window.

"Yeah, we're at the door. No answer. Going to force entry," he heard from outside his door, and he took a few more steps, sliding the window open as quietly as he could afford to. He was just getting out the window when the bigger of the two men kicked the door open, and he locked eyes with the other man.

"S***," Jim swore. "That text was right.."

He started hauling a** down the fire escape and heard one of the men -- were they government? Looked like it -- speaking into a radio again. "Out the window. He's heading down."

He couldn't hear a response, but he was hoping that was because there wasn't one. When he got close enough to the bottom of the fire escape, he jumped the rest of the way down and hit the cement running. A car whirled around the corner, blocking off the alley, and he swore again.

'Today is not my day, he thought to himself, blocked off from the only exit on that alley.

TAG - Me, later, to finish it

Sabrina Li
Toronto, Ontario (Canada)

Sabrina's hair blew back behind her head as she flew swiftly through the clouds above the city landscape. Ever since that day she tried to forget... and discovered her special ability, it brought an entirely new perspective to her world. Now, she could do something that her sister could never do: fly.

And Sabrina loved every moment of being the "better" sibling for once. The feeling of flight was completely exhilarating and calming at the same time as it was completely quiet up in the sky, except for the whooshing of the wind in the background, a totally different experience compared to walking on the ground. It gave her a chance to reflect upon herself in peace, to think about the things she was usually too busy for. She thought about her sister Allison, the hate and jealousy she held towards her sister for so long. All the times Allison brought home tests and assignments with A+s on them and not giving a care while their parents smiled proudly for their child prodigy, while Sabrina was the average one, the one with Bs and the rare Cs. Sabrina had hated her sister for her lack of appreciation over her own natural skills, how she always took them for granted. But now that she was "special" in her own way, her jealousy had greatly faded quickly. Unlike her sister, Sabrina would appreciate every moment with her new gift and never waste it.

But now things were much different ever since that day. With a new perspective on everything Sabrina was more able to see eye-to-eye Allison and see her as a sister instead of a rival. Now they were both equally special, none overshadowed the other.

Sabrina's self-reflection was interrupted by a soft buzzing noise coming from her jacket pocket. Reaching inside to pull out her cell phone, she brushed away a strand of hair away from her eyes as she read the message on the screen.

"Flee while you still can. They’re on your doorstep. Will contact you once you get free. I am your last hope."

Sabrina raised an eyebrow in confusion and curiosity. The sender of the message was unidentified. Deciding it must have been a random prank of some sort, Sabrina ignored the message and slipped her phone back into her jacket pocket as she began her descent downwards to her neighborhood below. Spotting her sister, Allison below, she decided to speed up her descent, hoping to give her a little scare before she reached the shortcut path she was headed towards.

Sabrina saw that Allison was constantly looking behind her shoulders as she walked alone. Did her sister spot her already? She couldn't have, she was looking directly behind her, not above. Scanning the surrounding area, Sabrina could spot a small group of men in black uniforms hiding behind a tree ahead of her sister. Behind Allison, Sabrina could pick out some movement in the shrubs and trees. More black-uniformed men. Remembering the suspicious message she received just moments earlier, Sabrina strained her eyes to examine the uniformed men more closely. Continuing her descent, the uniformed men came into focus, and her eyes widened in shock as she saw them each carrying shotguns. The warning from the text message was real. Gathering in a deep breath, Sabrina pushed a burst of speed as she rushed downwards below as the armed men in black uniforms began edging closer towards her sister.

Allison Li
Toronto, Ontario (Canada)

Allison walked along briskly as she continued to feel a presence behind her. Taking yet another look behind her shoulder, she saw nobody, yet the feeling still lingered. Calm down Allison, you're getting really paranoid today. Calm yourself down before you give yourself a heart attack or something she thought to herself as she tried to shut out the feeling of being followed.

Her attempts to calm herself failed as she heard another soft rustling in the bushes behind her, and she jumped when a little black cat burst out, covered with leaves and darted quickly across the street to the house at the other end.
See that? Just a cat, nothing to worry yourself about thought Allison as she gave a small sigh of relief.

Allison spotted the path ahead that she had always used to take as a shortcut home. If someone's following me, they won't catch me here she thought to herself as she stepped onto the path, subconsciously glancing back over her shoulder again. Just then, Allison heard a loud woosh as a shadow swept downwards and a pair of hands quickly grabbed her, and swiftly lifted her upwards.

"Sabrina! What the hell?!" Allison yelled out in frustration as she was lifted up into the air. Allison knew it was her sister who grabbed her. What did her sister think she was doing? Did she want to get spotted by someone?

"Just look below us." Sabrina tiredly replied as Allison began to turn her head around to see what was going on. Down on the ground below, Allison could spot a group of about half a dozen armed men in black uniforms gathered there, looking at them from below.

"And Alli, could you please keep your phone on next time?"




Tag: Everyone

Agent Anthony Lockett
Seattle, WA
Persuing Jim Reddings corpse...

Lockett hurriedly opened the door and landed on his feet in the alley, squinting down the sight of the tazer. 'Look James' he said to the worried man in the alley who panickly looked around 'I'm here to help, not to hurt you. Think of one of these darts like a bee sting... Its going to fix you up'

Lockett knew that they were going to lock him up. Ever ya egnt had guessed as much when they had been told to bring them and Lockett had high enough clearance to know that was what Building 26 was being upgraded for.

'C'mon Jim, we can do this the easy way, or the hard way' Lockett said, keeping his distance. 'Balls in your court boyo...'


TAG: Riddler




The Haitian
London, England

He looked around the room, paying no attention to the various MI5 agents that casted suspicious glances at his dark complexion and workmanlike attire. Searching around, he headed into the laundry, keeping his ability in check slowly but surely.

Chercking the window he crossed the tap, nodding briefly at the chief officer as he examined the window, noting the red stains that stood out on the plain glass and trailed down the garden path.

Blood..

He smiled as he followed the smears. Robert Zanackas had left his trail of breadcrumbs...

TAG: Zensu





Yolande Rodriguez
New York

'**** it Noah' Yo-yo swore as another bullet whizzed past her hair, her ear only being saved taken off by her marvellous ability 'Next time you can get you own ******* caterpillars'.

She'd been on her way to meet with Alexander Graber when a group of overzealous NSA agents had seen her too close to building 26 and taken exception, and now she was running for her life. Flipping her phone out hurriedly, she pressed a number of buttons, sending it to the phone number for her caterpillar that Noah had given her.

'Head for The Projects near Manhattan and Soho. Make sure you're not followed, will meet you ASAP'

TAG: Random





Agent Iolanthe
Iowa

Iolanthe buzzed her phone quickly from the car parked across the street, hitting speed dial briefly. The phone rang once before it was picked up, the voice on the other end belaying a brief guttural question.

'I got a visual on Sharpe' she said 'I'll bring her in'

'Yes Senator' Iolanthe answered 'I'm sure she'll want to join us too after what we've all seen'

TAG: Rofl





Noah Bennett
The Cocoon

Bennet looked through his screen at the van that had followed Vallegras. They were right on his doorstep and yet he couldn't do anything but sit and wait! Flicking his fingers over his keyboard he tried one gamble, one roll of the dice. Hopefully Jordan had done his work...

Smiling, he brought up the the ticket information for the train before sending away yet another text to Vallegras, his eyes narrowing and smiling as he copied and pasted pictures, finally sending the message.

3.10 to Yuma.. Odessa...First train, try and find a girl named Agnes...She'll help.

TAG: 2hededlizrd

Randalyn Pryors
North Wales, New York

As Randi grabbed her jacket, she felt her cell phone buzz. She pulled it out quickly and flipped it open, hoping that it was her mother with news of Dawn. Disappointment replaced hope as she saw that the text message was from no one she knew, and that was almost instantly replaced by concern.

"Flee while you still can. They’re on your doorstep. Will contact you once you get free. I am your last hope."

A dozen thoughts ran through her head at once. Who was after her and why? Her ability? Who sent this message? Did they know about her ability? Was Dawn in danger, too?

A shout from the front of the building caused Randi to look up sharply. Mrs. Watson, who always stopped by the Inn about this time, was shouting something about "You have no right!" Someone else was screaming.

Suddenly scared, Randi shoved the phone into her pocket and took two steps toward the back door, pulling up short as it swung open abruptly, revealing some men in black clothes pointing guns of some sort at her. Without thinking, Randi held up her hand as they fired, stopping several odd-looking darts in midair. In a continuation of the same motion, she slammed the door shut and held it closed.

She spun as the door to the dining room crashed open, and she acted again without thought, shoving two black-clothed men back and pushing that door shut.

Now what? she thought, analyzing the situation. As long as she held the doors shut, they couldn't break in--she thought so, at least--but she couldn't really do anything else. How was she to get out?

As if in answer to her question, a window shattered and Ellen's face appeared just outside. "Come on, Randi!" she hissed, picking out the glass shards. "Before they come this way!"

Still trying to hold both doors, and also struggling to manage her jacket and bag, Randi darted to the window and began pulling herself through, bracing her foot against the sink. Ellen grabbed her arms to help her, and both girls collapsed in a heap outside. At the same time, Randi lost control of the doors and they slammed open. She heard the men pouring into the room.

"Come on!" Ellen helped Randi to her feet and both sprinted for Randi's car in the parking lot. No longer caring if Joe Roberts, watching from a short distance away, saw her, Randi opened the doors telekinetically and dove in, extricating her keys from her bag and shoving them into the ignition. Ellen actually slid over the hood like someone in a movie and jumped into the passenger's seat, pulling the door shut.

Randi heard shouting from the Inn, and risked a look; several men were running towards her car. Ignoring the seat belt, at least for the moment, Randi shifted into reverse and pulled out of her parking spot, turning to face the street.

"Eight o'clock!" Ellen shouted as Randi shifted to drive. She turned to see one of the men reaching for her door, and she raised a hand, throwing him back several paces. Then she floored it, shooting out of the parking lot and screeching onto the street. She struggled a moment to control the car, and then straightened out as Ellen twisted around to look behind them.

"They don't seem to be following," she said.

"They'd have to get to their vehicles," Randi responded through clenched teeth. "Tell me if they show up." Holding the wheel telekinetically, Randi quickly put on her seat belt.

"Nope...I don't think they're--oh, shoot." Ellen gave Randi a quick glance. "They got a van."

Randi had already seen the large, black van screeching out of the Inn's parking lot through the rear view mirror. "When were you last at the Castle?"

Ellen gave her a strange look, which Randi barely saw. "Last week; why?"

"The road was clear?"

A lightbulb seemed to go on above Ellen's head. "Yeah, it was. Should be, too. Think you can get far enough ahead so you can lose them there?"

"Yeah, I can," Randi grunted, a moment before frantically steering around a tractor as they left the town. "I just wish I didn't have to cause a power outage. Take the wheel a sec."

As Ellen leaned over to grab the wheel, Randi twisted around to look back at the van. It wasn't that close, but it was close enough. Frowning in concentration, she selected one of the posts holding the electric wires that marched beside the road, and brought it down in front of the van. She quickly turned around and took back the wheel from Ellen, who in turn looked back.

"Oh, my--Randi!"

"Don't describe it," Randi said grimly. She could hear it quite well. "Our exit's coming up."

She slowed down as the road turned, plunging into forest. There, just to the left, was an overgrown trail leading into the trees, and it was this trail that she took, driving as quickly as she dared. In moments, they were out of sight of the road.

Ellen gave a sigh of relief. "They almost had us!"

"We're not out of the woods yet," Randi responded. She gave the trees a quick glance. "Metaphorically speaking, of course."

Ellen grinned. "I'm glad you're okay."

"Okay, nothing," Randi snorted. "I'm shaking!" She eased the car to a stop and turned it off. Both girls climbed out and made straight for a barely visible footpath that wound its way uphill. "How'd you know I was in trouble?"

"Your mom called me about Dawn, and I figured you might need me to look in on you," Ellen explained. "I was just in time, it seems. Do you think those guys might've got her?"

"I don't know," Randi sighed. Her sister seemed to have a thing for getting into trouble, but this might be something she couldn't get out of. "At least we have our camping stuff at the Castle; I get the impression I'll need it."

"We," Ellen put in. "Those guys may be after you, but you're not going anywhere alone. It'll be both of us going...wherever we go. You can't go home; they really seem to want you, so they'll be waiting there. Maybe we can go to my Aunt Jan."

"I don't know; they might check out friends and family, too," Randi said. "Even friends and family of friends and family. The text message said that I'd be contacted again--"

"Wait, what text message?"

Randi quickly explained about the message as they approached a large rock formation looming out of the trees. There was a small cave in the bottom where the girls had some gear stowed, and a firepit was on top. This was the Castle, site of numerous battles against orcs and goblins, several summer campouts, and lots of secret conversations. It was a place known to the girls since they were old enough to hike to it, and they always retreated there to talk and plan. Now, it would be the site of a very different kind of planning. Randi sincerely hoped that their plans--whatever they would be--wouldn't go astray.

TAG: Everyone

Alexander Gaber ~ Buffalo, New York

Alexander sat in the alley, taking deep breaths. He had wondered around Buffalo for hours, before finally giving out and hiding in an alley down town. Rain started to fall, and he leaned against the brick wall, almost welcoming it, soothing away the hangover, washing away his problems. Nothing mattered at that moment, just the rain.

Carefully, he stood up again and looked around him. His hands went into his pockets, feeling his keys, but nothing else. He felt the phone in his pocket buzz. A few moments passed before he moved to take out the small device. Whoever had contacted him knew what was going on, and until he knew who that was, he had no choice but to trust him.

“Manhattan….Jesus…” He shook his head looking at the screen. “And I don’t have a car….” Shaking his head. “Fine..whatever…to the bus station…” his spirit was slowly breaking.

An hour passed before he made it to the bus station. Half hour afterwards, he bought a ticket and was on the bus, sitting wet, cold, and going to New York City. “My life is crap-tacular…” He fell asleep on the bus.

Soon he made it to the City. And A short time later he made it to the projects sent to him. "Great..." muttered, he was still annoyed, at being chased by cops, he thought they were cops, and then messaged by weird people. Of course, his clothes still soaked.

tag: Anyone

A car screeched around the curb, making Seph jump, and covering him with a wave of dirty water. It was still wet from yesterday's rain, and the clouds threatened more.

Seph put away his new MP3, cursing himself for not seeing that car coming. Ever since that incident in the alley, his nerves had been walking the high wire. It didn't help that he'd seen the same woman seven times now, even though he was in constant movement.

Walking by a store window, he stopped as if to look in it. Sure enough, out of the corner of his eye, he could see the woman down the sidewalk. Only, this time she wasn't hiding. She was making a beeline for him.

He pretended to lose interest in the store window, and started walking towards the curb again, careful not to let her know he saw her. As he turned the corner, he slowed down a little, to make sure she could still see him.

He walked into an alley, another L-shaped one. Dodging around the trash, he settled, hidden, into an alcove by a cardboard box.

She walked into sight a scant second later. Walking a few paces past his hiding place, she stopped, looking around curiously. She turned around to look behind her, and immediately found a Glock aimed at her forehead.

"Who are you and why are you following me?" The teenager holding the gun asked. She studied him a moment before answering.

"I'm Yolande. I'm here to help you" she said. The teenager scoffed.

"Help how? By blowing my brains out?" he answered, "No thank you"

Offended, Yolande tried not to show it, "There are people after you" she told him.

"No duh" he answered rudely, "And how do I know you're not one of them?"

She opened her mouth to speak, but he interrupted, "I don't" The safety on his gun clicked.

A moment later, the gun was spinning out of Seph's hand. Yolande had hers in her hands, aiming back at him. She was surprised to find another in his.

"So you are the one I've been looking for" She said, "I was beginning to wonder. You look different without your hood"

Embarrassment flickered across the teenager's face, and he shrugged, "I lost it" he said simply.

Yolande dropped her arms and put the gun back into its holster. She stuck out her hand, "I can get you a new one" she said.

After a moment, Seph lowered his as well. She had proven herself to be trustworthy. For now, at least. She had the upper hand, and hadn't used it. "All right" he said, sticking the gun into his belt, "But I'm paying"

Yolande opened her mouth to protest, but seeing the look on his face made her give up. When you're trying to get someone to trust you, you don't get them angry. "Fine" she said. They shook, and Yolande waved for Seph to step ahead.

"You first" he told her, "I don't trust people behind me" She smiled, and walked in front of him. Strange, she thought. He kept reminding her of Noah.

Jill Safford aka Judith Sharpe
Iowa 80 Truck Stop

Jill was making her way across the parking lot, glancing side to side for anyone who might give her trouble but trying not to let her anxiety show. Was this really about her taking up a false identity, or was it something more? It was difficult to speculate when she knew so little, but Jill couldn't see why anyone would be after her. How could anyone know that she could heal from any wound and never age? Who would find her interesting enough to dig deep enough to uncover that?

She sighed, adjusting the straps of her duffle bag to keep them from digging into her shoulder. Just then she noticed someone in a parked car across the street looking in her direction. Jill swore, then ducked behind a semi truck, digging through her duffle bag to find her utility knife.

TAG: Necropath

'C'mon Jim, we can do this the easy way, or the hard way' Lockett said, keeping his distance. 'Balls in your court boyo...'

Jim Redding
Seattle, WA
'Bout to choke a *****

Jim smiled as this guy spoke. That kind of bravado, definitely had to be government. Had the feel of 'I'll do what I want, and you can't do a damn thing'. He noticed a different feel, too: apprehension. He was pretty sure this guy didn't know what he could do... and he could use that to his advantage.

"Ball is in my court. And I say we do it my easy way."

He started running towards the man, taking a second to focus and activate his deflective ability. He'd tested with a lot of things how it would work, and found that it deflected a lot, but not everything. So far, not anything like water or fire. But taser darts? Oh hell yeah.

TAG: Necro

Robert Zanackas
Bristol, England

Hoping that he had gotten far enough away from his apartment to avoid detection from whoever had barged into the apartment, Robert stopped in the next alley and put on the clothes that he had managed to take with him. That’s when he noticed that he had been cut in his escape attempt, and glowered as he tried to move around on his wounded leg.

Robert wasn’t sure where to go exactly at this time of night, but he knew that he couldn’t stay long in the small, quiet town of Bristol. Hopefully whoever had texted him would provide additionally help soon before he was caught by the “breadcrumb” trail that he had left behind.

As an added precaution, he negated any sound he made as he hobbled along the path in town, looking for some type of shelter or a place where he could rest to heal up his leg.

[Tag: Necropath]

Lockett
Seattle, WA

'****, he's making a run for it!' Anthony swore as he dived out of the way of Jim, pulling his pistol from his belt and yelling hurriedly 'All agents, open fire...Open fire dammit!'

Tag: Ridd


Iolanthe
Iowa

Iolanthe swore under her breath as she saw Jill lock eyes with her. Dammit, now she had to play hardball, and she always hated hardball. Gathering pen and paper from the console in her car, she approached Jill cautiously, while at the same time trying to look the part of the cover that they had given her. Approaching quietly, she amused that she was close enough to begin asking questions.

'Miss Stafford? Iolanthe Compton-Jones, Iowa Daily News' Iolanthe said 'Mind if I ask you a few questions?'

Tag: Rofl


Yolande
New York

'Look Seph, before we continue, a few things' Yolande said frustratingly, rounding on the younger kid after yet another one of his 'Idon't trust you' spiels. 'First of all theres a reason I chose you first, and its so we can both get some friends out of sticky situations they come across.'

'Secondly, you are going to have to trust me. I'm working for the good guys here. That text that alerted you to those? That was my boss. You'll be meeting him once we're finished up here' Yolande narrowed her eyes

'And third of all, Don't ever try to shoot me. I can see it coming from a mile away and I will deliver you unconscious to my boss if I have to and if you try it' Turning her head skywards she jogged ahead 'We need to catch up, I think the next one's in a bit of trouble'

Tag: Random, Matt

Jill Safford aka Judith Sharpe
Iowa 80 Truck Stop

Jill hid the utility knife in her pocket and zipped the duffle bag as the stranger approached. Maybe she was especially paranoid after receiving that text, but she could see right through the woman's lies. Jill liked to keep to herself, keep a low profile, so the idea that some no-name cub reporter from a podunk glorified church bulletin would know her was absolutely ludicrous. The only people familiar with her Jill Safford identity were her employers and a few waitresses at the roadside diners she frequented. In everyone else's eyes, she was just a nameless, faceless stranger.

So what did this woman really want?

Jill narrowed her eyes and continued walking. "It's Safford--no 't'. And I'm sorry, but I'm busy right now. There's a shipment that needs to be on time."

TAG: Necropath

Jorge Vallegras--Odessa, Texas

It's been a very weird journey from Dallas to this piece of crap town, Jorge thought, but..

He looked at his phone for what must have been the thousandth time since he got texted shortly after he left Ernesto's trailer. He had got the sign that he was looking for, and better yet, it led to a girl--a damsel in distress, he liked to think.

3.10 to Yuma.. Odessa...First train, try and find a girl named Agnes...She'll help.

A picture came along with it. It was a young woman about his age, her dark hair strikingly contrasting with her pale skin; she looked like a ghost. The haunted look in her eyes only enhanced this impression. She did look pretty, however...and Jorge Vallegras, like any young Latino worth his salt, would never turn down a chance to meet a pretty lady.

But how would she help him? His mysterious texter probably knew, but Jorge couldn't figure it out. He had his song, after all; he could use images, illusions, and the natural sound background to disrupt, confuse, and intimidate his enemies..at least, in theory. Thankfully, Jorge had come across no one resembling an avatar of the law, so he hadn't had cause to test that theory.

The only lure in getting on this train was to meet this girl. He didn't need much help--right now.

Jorge arrived at the train station, going on foot because his truck was no longer useful. If he were pursued while on foot, he could hide himself using his song and find a good place to hide, then use his power to project his image running in a different direction--he thought of that on the way to Odessa, and it seemed like a good plan. Besides, he felt much more comfortable on his feet.

As he approached the station, he called up the ticket information his benefactor had sent with the text. There were automatic ticket machines in the station--Jorge was surprised that there were some in a station like this one--and Jorge used one of these machines to get his ticket. It was preferable to facing a real human being and trying to get one; he felt like a criminal, a fugitive..which isn't far from the truth, according to the people hunting him.

He studied his ticket more closely. "3:10 to Yuma," he said to himself, then laughed quietly. 3:10 to Yuma was a movie, a particularly bad movie, but Jorge was really no judge of movies. He never was a big fan of movies. Obviously, his patron had had a good laugh over this as well.

When Jorge got to the train he was supposed to take, the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. Something was out there, but he couldn't see. He looked around as slowly as he could manage, decided no one was really paying attention to him, then once again hummed under his breath. He dropped from sight, but unfortunately, someone had noticed, a thin, balding man sitting down about twenty feet to Jorge's right.

Dammit! Jorge changed his humming to a full song, giving more power to his ability. He tried to divert the man's attention from the fact that a boy had disappeared into thin air.

Jorge looked at the clock. 2:45. His train wasn't leaving yet, and if he got on before it left and whomever was watching him did too, there wasn't much he could do. He could fight back, but he'd scare the living daylights out of nice, normal people. Jorge couldn't have that; it would prove them right about him.

Suddenly, his phone buzzed. Jorge's voice nearly died in shock. Steadying himself, he pulled out the phone.

Tag: Necropath

'All agents, open fire...Open fire dammit!'

Jim Redding
Seattle, WA

Jim smiled, holding tight to his duffel as he kept sprinting. There were only a few of them, maybe a half-dozen, and if he needed to, he could find a place to hide. If worse came to worse, he could turn tail and fight them. Even with his ability, he preferred not fighting, if he could make that so.

He turned a corner, heading down another street, seeing a group of tourists ahead, about to enter the Seattle Art Museum.

Perfect. They'll never spot me in a group that size, and soon as I've lost them, I can get on the move.

TAG: Necro

Alexander Graber ~ NYC

Alexander wandered around the projects. He did his best not to come down to New York City that often. And now he was stuck waiting for some random person sending him text messages on his phone.

“Where the hell are you!” he yells, to the sky, to himself, and to whatever person wanted him here. “Could at least try to be where ya tell me to go…So I don’t have to stand around forever in wet clothes…dying of pneumonia…” his voice slowly got quieter, muttering to himself. “Bastards…”

tag: Necro, Mat

(OOC: Forgive the short post. At the point where I can't do much till Yo-Yo shows up, so he can stop acting like a crazy person.)

Randalyn Pryors
Just outside North Wales, New York

Randi checked the bag once more, making sure the food and clothes were all there, and then looked up at Ellen. "Are you sure you want to come along?"

"Sure, nothing," Ellen responded. "I am coming along, whether you want me to or not."

Randi smiled slightly as she got up. "Then let's go." She had already called home to give her parents the update and to warn them that she wasn't going back...not yet, at any rate. "Where are we headed?"

"I figure Buffalo's as good a spot as any," Ellen suggested. "We can blend in there, get lost in the crowd. You game?"

"Why not?" Randi couldn't think of a better idea.

As they hiked back towards the car, Randi realized that Ellen wasn't just carrying her duffel bag. "What are you...A bow? Why on earth are you taking the bow?"

Ellen shrugged, hefting the bow and arrows that the girls had stashed at the Castle during their Narnia phase. "They have guns; I figure we'd best be armed. And since you already have your telekinesis, and I can use a bow, I figured, why not take it?"

Randi looked at her sharply. "Ellen. Arrows can kill."

Ellen nodded, her face grim. "That they can. They can also hit a creep in the leg and make it so he can't run, or knock a gun 'off-aim'. At any rate, I'm not one to stand around while innocent people like you are being hunted. If you and Dawn are in trouble, then I'm guessing you're not the only ones. These guys have to be stopped."

"You seem pretty firm on that point," Randi commented. "Not that I'm complaining, but why?"

After a pause, Ellen explained softly, "My grandmother was the only survivor of her entire family during the Holocaust. My grandfather and his brother survived Auschwitz. This happened before, and it won't happen again. Not if I have anything to do with it."

Randi didn't have anything to say.

They reached the car, stowed their gear in the back seat, and settled in for the ride. "Next stop, Buffalo," Randi announced, driving back to the road. She was relieved to see that there was no sign of the strange men. She set off towards Buffalo hoping that there, at least, they could get some answers.

TAG: Everyone

Shamus O'Conner
Somewhere in Kentucky

Sham grumbled at nobody in particular. Yet again, he'd become the target for bullies at his brand-new school, and yet again, destruction had rained. He knew it was him. And he knew that if someone was looking for him, he was setting up a pretty good trail.

He turned the volume on his MP3 up another five notches. He knew his mother could hear it; she was sitting right next to him, driving. He knew she wasn't fond of him listening to his music so loud, but he didn't care. He needed something to take his mind off his anger.

The song ended, so he switched to 'Pain', hoping to express his feelings through singing. People had told him he had the voice of an angel, even though all he sang was rock. And hard rock at that. His voice still felt a little raw after the shouting match a few hours earlier.

He pulled an earbud out of his ear and sat up, instantly alert, as his mother swerved off the road. He could feel rough ground under the car, and could hear them being followed by two... three... at least four vehicles. At least one was a large van, and at least two were cars.

He heard gunfire, and his mother zig-zagged, swearing up a storm. Then a tire blew, and the car swerved crazily. His mind erupted in white noise. He barely registered shouting, and pain before his head hit something hard, and then everything went black.

TAG: everyone

Lockett
Seattle, WA

"****" Lockett swore "**** it, ****, *****, ******, AHHHH!' he screamed frustratingly. Danko was going to have his head for this if he didn't turn up with results.

'Alpha team, shadow him as much as you can. Beta, be prepared for public extraction. Lets make sure we get this one, okay?'

TAG: Riddler






Iolanthe Compton-Jones
Iowa

Iolanthe flatered a bit in her cover, off put at "Jill's" coldness towards her. Regaining her composure she smirked an agent's smirk and looked the woman straight in the eye, almost glaring at her.

'I'm sure you're very busy. But I'm interested, Miss Safford, you wouldn't have known a Judith Sharpe by any chance would you? I'm currently investigating for a few...higher up...benificaries"

TAG: Rofl





The Haitian
England

The Haitian continued down the path, following the sporadic blood trail. However, he felt something was wrong, like a presence that tugged at the back of his mind. Maybe it was the knowing that the caterpillar was close, maybe it was something else, he didn't know.

He was just glad he'd be heading home soon.

TAG: Zensu






Texas Agent
Odessa

'This was where they keep saying Noah Bennet was last' Her partner said as they crested the steps into the train station, glancing from left to right 'I dunno, it just pays to stay alert. Guy as smart as that might have a few tricks up his sleeve, and if he's involved with this kid..'

'Rachael' he said, putting a hand out 'Relax. Its just a kid. We sneak up on him, we tazer, we deliver him to Danko, we're done. Now keep your eyes open.'

Making there way through the crowd, they kept their eyes open. Rachael stumbled but regained her composure, cussing as she regained her footing 'Train leaves in...15 minutes. the 3.10 to Yuma. Ever get the feeling this was a ploy?' he asked, his eyes narrowing as he saw a boy dart into the crowd, disappearing amongst the midst of people.

'I do' she said 'Or he could just be hysterical that the government is trailing a teenager'

'Maybe' he said 'Stay alaert anyway, and remember, this is Bennet territory'

Meanwhie, Bennett sent another text to Vallegras, hopefully the last.

'Fake getting on that train and get them to take the bait. I have the three of you right where I need you'

TAG: 2hededlizrd, ClemBeaR




Emile Danko
Kentucky

Danko emerged from behind the bushes, to survey the crash, the rifle in his hands smoking profusely. Raising his fist as a signal to the other rifles, he stopped, speaking into his intercom 'Kill Squad stand down. Target has been neutralized...'

Pulling the teenager from the crash, his eyes narrowed as he led him towards the Kill Squad to be escorted to their van 'Well Mister O'Conner, you've certainly given us cause for concern' Danko said 'I sure hope you enjoy your new cellmates in building 26'

TAG: Matt

Agnes Montefuego
Odessa

After some hours of travel, the train finally stopped. Agnes was in the Odessa station now. She glanced around warily. It was an unfamiliar place, so she got a little worried. "I shouldn't stray away. I'll just sit here and wait; maybe some agents followed me here; I don't want to be conspicuous or else they'll capture me", she thought; So she sat on the nearby benches, hoping for someone to at least come and help her.

TAG: 2hededlizrd

Jill Safford aka Judith Sharpe
Iowa 80 Truck Stop

Jill tensed as the woman mentioned her old identity, and kept walking toward her truck at a brisk pace, her hand gripping the utility knife in her pocket. It's okay, stay calm. Just get to the truck and go, then you can lose her.

"I'm afraid I can't help you, sorry. Now if you'll excuse me, I've got a shipment to run."

She unlocked the driver's side door and threw her bag beside her, climbed in and started the truck.

Let's hope she won't make me run her down.

TAG: Necropath

Jorge Vallegras--Odessa, Texas

Fake getting on that train and get them to take the bait. I have the three of you right where I need you, the text said.

Jorge felt like screaming, "You want me to do what!?" However, there was no time for such emotional activities. Still protected by his power, he looked at the two agents who were looking around the place, trying to find a clue about him. Trying, and failing miserably.

Jorge allowed himself a mental chuckle. This might be easier than he realized. Whomever was texting him knew his powers as well as he did, maybe even better.

He slipped behind a pillar, and changed his song. It went from a low toneless note to a shifting, off-key warble. He hadn't done this before, but he instinctively knew what he needed to sing in order to project his own image.

He sent an illusion of himself out amongst the people. He didn't attach it to another person--again, nice normal people. No one needs to be hurt by this..as long as he didn't screw up. His image walked out of the crowd, and onto the 3:10 to Yuma. As the agents followed onto the train, the doors closed and the train sped off--carrying away the numbnut agents sent to bag him.

Jorge laughed quietly to himself, then stepped out behind the pillar and received a slight shock.

The girl he was supposed to find--Agnes--was sitting on a bench about a hundred yards away. She was pretty far away, and her hair color had changed since the picture the Texter had sent Jorge was taken, but there was no mistake about it. This was Agnes.

He wondered how he knew. Sure, his vision was good, but it wasn't that good. He had never met her in his life. He shouldn't have even been able to recognize her without the black hair, but something deep inside told him that she was the girl the Texter told him to find. Jorge put it out of his mind; it was enough to know for now that he knew.

How he knew was a question for someone else.

Still wary of any agents that might have stayed behind in Odessa, he hummed yet again, blanking his presence from other minds.He walked up to Agnes, taking his time, not wanting to scare her. She sat apart from other people, so it was easy for Jorge to ease himself back into reality..in a matter of speaking. Standing directly behind her, he started to speak, then his voice cracked and he coughed, violently.

When he removed his hand from his mouth, he saw blood. He tasted blood in the back of his throat, too. The last couple days were taking their toll, but Jorge would be all right in a while--if he got the chance to rest a bit. Wiping his hand off inside his jeans pocket, he cleared his throat and tried again.

"Agnes?" he said in English. "Are you Agnes?"

Tag: ClemBeaR, Necropath

Sabrina & Allison Li
Toronto, Ontario Canada


"What are we going to do now?" Allison nervously asked as she held on tightly to her sister as she stared down at the ground below, slightly trembling. She never really did like heights.

Sabrina's eyes scanned the surroundings below, looking for something. "Someone sent a warning to my phone earlier. 'Flee while you still can. They’re on your doorstep.' Those guys down there, they were after us."

Allison's eyes widened in shock at what the message meant. "Then we've got to get home and warn Mom and Dad!"

"I think we might be too late already." replied Sabrina as her sights focused on a medium-sized black truck parked outside their house below. Slowing down her flight, she stopped to hover at a safe distance away from the scene. Allison turned her head around to take a look at what her sister was looking at.

Below, Allison could make out about four armed uniformed men in battle gear standing guard outside their front door, the black truck parked nearby. Although they were too far up to hear what the soldiers were saying to each other, there was the familiar noise of radio chatter. There was also something else, something strange.. but Allison couldn't quite realize what it was. The strange sensation was coming from inside the house

Faces, so many faces...

Allison's heartbeat quickened and increased in intensity. The sudden powerful jolt of the unexpected feeling sent a shiver down her spine.

Two bodies, two faces... one body, two faces... two becoming one.. one body... one face.

Sabrina's concerned voice broke through Allison's dreamlike trance. "Alli, what's going on with you? Are you all right?"

"W-what?" Allison quickly replied in confusion, turning around to look at her sister, then slowly back towards their house below where the strange sensation emanated from. The sensation was gone, although a trace of it still lingered.

Allison drew in a deep breath to calm herself down, trying to clear her mind out of her confused state. "I kind of... felt something coming from our house. I don't know what it is, but there's something there."

Down below, two armed soldiers emerged from the house. One of them shook their head and shrugged to the others, while the second one turned aside pressed a hand to his ear and spoke into his headset microphone. And without any further delay, they all quickly entered the back of the truck which sped away into the distance, leaving no trace of what had just happened a few moments earlier.

"They're gone." observed Allison.

"I didn't see Mom or Dad, did you?" Sabrina asked, to which Allison shook her head in reply. "Let's check inside the house before those guys come back then. Mom or Dad might still be in there."

After carefully inspecting the surroundings below, Sabrina slowly lowered herself and her sister to their backyard, and they prepared themselves as they went in the back door.

"Mom, Dad... please be alright..." whispered Allison as they made their way inside.




Tag: Everyone

Jim Redding
Seattle, WA

Jim did his best to subtly keep an eye out. Yeah, he was masquerading as part of a tour group, but he couldn't stick with them too long. He had to hide better.

He managed to put it mostly aside, though, at least to the average eye. Smiles, jokes and quiet conversations got him quickly on the good side of a few people in the tour group, and nobody was giving him those out-of-place looks. That was the first thing he'd decided to do, because then he wouldn't be as suspicious in the group. It was almost like he belonged.

The first chance he got, though, he slipped away. He had spotted a maintenance room very close to one of the fire exits and, soon as the group got close enough, he ducked away into the maintenance room. All he had to do was just lay low here for a bit, and those agents would be as good as dealt with.

Jim took the time to look around the room, figuring he'd be here for a bit. There were a couple doors that looked to be closets, and it probably would serve as a decent hiding place, were one of the real maintenance people to come in. He opened one of the doors to make sure, and found out that it was a uniform closet, with a few maintenance uniforms in it. He smiled.

Disguise? Why yes, thank you.

TAG: Necro

Agnes Montefuego
Odessa, Texas

"How did we get here, when i used to know you so well..." Agnes sang under her breath, desperately keeping boredom at bay. unfortunately, she grew tired of it. she glanced around herself. There weren't so many people around, so she surreptitiously tried making flames with her fingers. blue ones appeared, signaling that she's already in low spirits.

"oh bummer. maybe Kyle just sent me here for nothing", She thought sadly. Still, she continued playing with her miniature flames. Suddenly, she heard an unfamiliar voice behind her. "Agnes? Are you Agnes?" She nearly jumped, surprised. Still, she quickly dispersed her blue flames. Slowly and cautiously, she turned and faced the stranger.

A young man, light brown skin, tousled hair, about her height. judging from his looks and accent, he must of south American descent. Clearly, this wasn't an agent. "Yes, I am. I'm Agnes.", She responded.

TAG: 2hededlizrd

Jorge Vallegras--Odessa

Jorge stood there, dumbstruck. Agnes was very good-looking, and he temporarily forgot who and where he was.

"Yes, I am. I'm Agnes," she said to him. Her voice was very melancholy, very at-odds with her bright red hair. She stood even with him in terms of height, but Jorge was used to that--his girlfriend that he had in his old life was a good three inches taller.

My old life..He felt alone all of a sudden. Nothing will ever be as it was, so he had better get started on making a new life.

Starting with the girl.

"Que onda, senorita?" he asked in Spanish, using a charming tone to help hide the slight grate in his voice. His throat still burned like hell. "My name is Jorge Vallegras, and I've been looking for you." He took out his phone and showed her what the Texter sent to him in the last couple days.

"Whomever sent these obviously is on our side. I don't know why--" He coughed again. Jorge cleared his throat again and continued, "Sorry. Anyway, I don't know why this person asked me to find you, but I suggest we find out. He'll contact us again, I'm sure of it."

Something suddenly occured to him. "You wouldn't happen to know this..Texter..would you?"

Tag: cLEmbeaR

Agnes Montefuego
Odessa, Texas

The young man introduced himself as Jorge Vallegras. "Nice name for a nice looking guy", Agnes thought. He said he'd been looking for her through a text sent to him, and then he showed the text to her. He was pretty sure that the texter is on their side. He asked her, "You wouldn't happen to know this..Texter..would you?"

"No, I don't think i know this texter. All i know is that someone sent me a message saying that there are people after me. At first i thought it were the henchmen from Italy the texter referred to, but afterward it seems that these are different people. Then a man named Kyle sent me here, so that i'd be safe from those people who were after me. that's all" Agnes sheepishly said. "Why can't I look him in the eye?" Agnes thought. Her face had blushed since they talked.

Nevertheless, she asked Jorge. "Hey, are they after you too because... you're different? i mean... can you do something like... this?" After checking if there weren't any watchers, she surreptitiously started to produce small flames. This time, pink ones appeared. "Pink? what's this? new color means new emotion", She wondered.

She shooed the thought, and proceeded with the ongoing matters. "So, are you like me or not?"

TAG: 2hededlizrd

Robert Zanackas
Bristol, England

Robert stopped for a second when he felt a faint soudwave hit him from behind. Tuning himself into the faint vibration, he determined it was the sound of someone's shoes clicking on the pavement as they walked.

Figuring that the trail of blood was giving him away and knowing that he couldn't do anything about it at the moment, Robert negated any sound that he made as he continued walking, increasing his speed as fast as he could bear it on his cut leg.

[Tag: Necropath]

Jorge Vallegras--Odessa Train Station

It was clear to Jorge that Agnes was running, just as he was. He knew nothing about any henchmen from Italy, but he knew that the people after him were definitely U.S. government. Agnes had been extraordinarily lucky that the people after Jorge had not picked her up instead.

"So, are you like me or not?" Agnes asked the question that he'd been wondering since they met. He saw the pink flames sprout from her fingertips and dance across her hands, and Jorge was awed. And he thought he had power...his best images and panic-inducing nudges were mere irritants compared to the hell she could potentially unleash.

A sudden idea came to mind. Jorge cleared his throat yet again, trying to prevent any sort of backlash that would end in lots of blood. His throat and vocal chords were strained, but with a cold drink and some rest, he'd be all right.

Collecting his thoughts, he said to Agnes, "I'm like you in that I have a...gift? Ability? Yeah, ability sounds better. My ability isn't like yours, however. I rely on illusion, by using my voice to manipulate others within hearing range--and sometimes without, if I put extra oomph into it. Here, it's better to show than tell," he finished enigmatically.

Jorge started to sing, not a toneless hum or a cracked warble--the one that injured his throat. He sang a sweet tenor that spoke of companionship, of trust, of hope, need, and vague promises.

He sang of a love that neither he nor she knew was there.

Agnes' own image appeared out of thin air. The image hung there for a minute, then disappeared as Jorge finished singing.

Suddenly, his throat started feeling better.

Smiling, Jorge said, "I think we'd better get out of the station. We should find somewhere to grab a bite to eat; I'm famished." Of course, famished is a word that Jorge uses lightly--his appetite is enormous for such a slight guy. He once won a bet by devouring twenty tacos in a single night. The fifty dollars he won was definitely worth it, but the gripes the next morning definitely were not.

"I have about...a hundred bucks on me", he continued, pulling a wad of green bills out of his back pocket and counting them absent-mindedly. "We can sit down for a bite, then talk about...whatever, I guess." He smiled again, then beckoned to Agnes.

Tag: cLEmbeaR

Kyle Jordan
Finally in Seattle, WA

Kyle parked his car and walked hurriedly down the street, his leather jacket flapping in the bleak washington rain. Seattle, he chuckled as his fingers moved over the keypad, the place I'd tell my friends to go when I told them to stick it where the sun don't shine.

He knew the contact, Jim Redding...a deflector, and if Noah's latest call on the way had given him any clues. It was that he was in deep trouble. Agents had swarmed him and he'd been lucky, or maybe far too gutsy, to get away. Chambering his pistol just in case, Jordan sent his text:

'Qwest Field, we need you on a train as quickly as we can'

Pocketing his phone, he kept an eye out, silently willing his caterpillar to make the distance any second now.

TAG: Riddler



The Haitian
London, England

He crept along the path, shadowing Zanackas as the latter hobbled up the street. Engaging his ability on Zanackas, the Haitian narrowed his eyes, rendering the hurt man visible as the Haitian moved closer to the hobbling man. Zanaqckas seeing him and beginning to panic

'I'm sorry friend' The Haitian said as he moved closer to Zanackas, his hand outstretched to sedate the young man 'but this is for your good and the good of everyone like you'

-zzzip-THWACK!

The blood showered over the pavement in front of the Haitian as the crossbow bolt punctured his lungs, followed by another two in the same vicinity for good measure. The Haitian collapsed, dead before he hit the ground as the crossbow came into view as if apparating from nowhere, followed by a hand, scruffy looking clothes, and a scruffy face that looked as if it belonged to a hobo. In actual fact, that was a blend of the truth and fiction.

'Well, Friend, looks as if I got you out of a pickle right there' Claude Raines said as he lowered the crossbow, walking over to pull Robert to his feet 'Now lets get you to some shelter before his other friend shows up'

TAG: Zensu

Iolanthe Compton-Jones
Iowa

'You must be busy' Iolanthe said as Jill shouldered past, handing her the buisness card that Petrelli had given her to use as a last resort. It had his name and the building 26 phone number on it. 'I understand. Look, if you ever feel like talking or need an extra job, feel free to contact my boss on the card.'

'I'm sure he could set you up with some well paying, honest work' Iolanthe said as a parting shot, turning back to the car 'See you Miss Sharpe'

TAG: Rofl



Yolande Rodriguez
New York

Yo-yo dived off of the fire exit from the fifth floor, breaking her fall with a well timed parkour roll as she saw the man waiting (impatiently she might add) for her at the projects. Making sure she knew her mini arsenal was bringing up the rear, she adjusted her hair briefly before stepping into the street, appraoching the young man confidently.

'Alexander Graber?' she asked cautiously

TAG: Random, Mat

Alexander Graber ~ NYC

Alexander stood with his hands in his pockets, He’d lost track of time. “****” he muttered and looked around. He stopped hearing his name. Cocking an eyebrow he looked the woman over, not that trusting of her.

Finally he shook his head. “That’s what they call me.” He gestured to the person following her. “And I’ll assume both of you have names, so what are they.” After a seconds pause he shook his head. “Nevermind, I don’t care. Maybe you should tell me why I’m here, and why I’m being attacked.” Another pause “And why should I even be standing here long enough to talk with you? How do I know you aren’t here to kill me?”

tag: Necro, Mat

Agnes Montefuego
Odessa, Texas

Agnes waited for Jorge to answer. Finally, an answer came. "I'm like you in that I have a...gift? Ability? Yeah, ability sounds better. My ability isn't like yours, however. I rely on illusion, by using my voice to manipulate others within hearing range--and sometimes without, if I put extra oomph into it. Here, it's better to show than tell," he said.

Then, Jorge started to sing a song, and a beautiful one at that. Suddenly, Agnes' very own image appeared out of nowhere. Agnes was awestruck; She had never seen such unique ability, complemented with good vocals. This made Agnes reminisce the days when used to sing in the church choir in Italy; The days when she used to sing for their school band there. She used to entertain them all with her beautiful voice. Those memories made her nostalgic.

Nevertheless, with Jorge's soothing voice, those poignant memories faded away. to After a while, Jorge stopped singing. He said that they should go out and find something to eat, 'cause he was famished. He beckoned Agnes, and she consented. "You know, I gotta compliment you; aside from a great ability, you've got a great voice, Maybe we could sing together or something... I have a few songs i composed at home", She said, grinning, as they walked out the station.

TAG: 2hededlizrd

Jorge Vallegras--Odessa

"It's kinda noisy in here, but we won't be overheard in this mess, at least," Jorge said.

They were in a small cafe frequented by kids their age--likely from the local high school, if Jorge's guess wasn't wrong. School had just gotten out, and some of the students were getting a drink, doing homework, chatting or doing random online stuff--away from the prying eyes of their parents. Of course, neither Jorge nor Agnes had this kind of stuff to worry about anymore.

The cafe didn't serve much to eat, but Jorge was able to find a decent couple of sandwiches for himself. Agnes had intimated earlier that she wasn't particularly hungry, but he had given her some money to go get something once she did get an appetite. He also got a huge Vitamin Water--the 32oz. bottle. His throat thanked him for that.

Jorge never missed a chance to eat, so as he got prepared to inhale his sandwiches, he asked her, "Tell me about yourself, Agnes. Where did you come from, besides Italy? What school was like? What songs you write? That sort of thing."

Just before he sank his teeth into a delicious-looking BLT, he warned her, "Better say nothing about our"--here he mouthed the word abilities--"until we're somewhere else. I'd love to hear and share life stories, but first..."

He tore into his sandwich, taking care to chew with his mouth closed and swallow without making animalistic noises of pleasure.

He was with a lady, after all.

Tag: cLEmbeaR

Jim Redding
Seattle Art Museum maintenance room

Pulling a cap over his head, Jim look at himself in the mirror. Between the slight smudges he'd made on his face to make him look like he'd been working, and the already-smudgy uniform, he wouldn't have recognized himself if he'd had to. He stowed his duffel onto a janitorial cart and wheeled it out of the room, trying to look as inconspicuous and supposed-to-be-there as he could. He was pleased to see that nobody looked twice at him, some not even once.

'God, it helps to have a low profile.'

Before he got far away from the door, though, he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. He pulled it out discreetly, looking to see if it was from the texter with the restricted number. He assumed it was, or from another working with the first, because it had a quick, impersonal message:

Qwest Field, we need you on a train as quickly as we can.

Slipping his phone back into his pocket, Jim pushed along the janitor's cart, head bowed enough to hide his face, but not so much that people would realize he was intentionally hiding - all he was, was a guy who was just trying to make it through his work day. That's all that people needed to see.

After a few minutes, and stopping to actually do something and make the whole janitor thing convincing, he looked around. Seeing nobody that would notice him, he grabbed his duffel off of the cart. He left a twenty dollar bill, and a note he'd written earlier apologizing for having to take the uniform. He knew the $20 wouldn't cover it, but it was at least an attempt to.

He took a second to orient himself and to think of his location. If he was right, Qwest Field was just under a mile away from here. Shouldn't be too hard to get to. He just hoped he could trust this texter more than he could those agents..

TAG - Necro

Jill Safford aka Judith Sharpe
Iowa 80 Truck Stop

Jill waited until Iolanthe receded into the distance before cursing the woman, snarling how she hated her, how she was a terrible liar, and how she had no business poking her nose where it didn't belong. She had a good job and a good life, as good of a life that she could get cut off from her family and from the natural rhythm of time. Her name wasn't real, but the work itself was honest.

Finally realizing that she shouldn't drive when she was so angry, she searched the radio for some calming music and pulled onto the interstate.

She turned to the empty seat next to her, where she had thrown her cell phone and Iolanthe's card. She said to the cell phone, "Now I don't want to hear anything else from you, understand?"

TAG: Necropath

Agnes Montefuego
Odessa, Texas

After they took a seat in the nearby cafe and had some food and drinks, Jorge began conversing with Agnes, asking her to tell about her erstwhile life in Italy. "Well... how do I start? Okay. I was born in Rome to a religious family; We weren't that opulent; my father always borrowed money. Ma and Pa taught me to pray when i was young; at 7, i learned how to sing, and when i was 10, my aunt taught me how to play the guitar. We were very close to each other". Agnes recounted, then she continued.

"I joined the school band in seventh grade. I was very well liked in our school back then. After my 14th birthday, Mom told me i was old enough to be on the church choir. I wanted to be a nun, by the way. Then, all of these changed on that day. i remember, It was coinciding with an eclipse. I was going home, when i saw them being held captive by the henchmen of the man to whom my father failed to pay his debts". Agnes became teary eyed. "Then... it happened". She said silently.

Then again, Agnes realized that it's no use to cry at this point in time. "Now it's your turn", Agnes said.

TAG: 2hededlizrd

Robert Zanackas
London, England

Robert tried to use his ability to knock the approaching man several yards away from him, but found that he couldn't use his ability. It felt like one of his senses had been cut off from him, and that left Robert in a state of panic.

The next few things happened so quickly that Robert was barely able to process it all. Just as the man closed in with his arms, something struck him in the chest and killed him, then a scruffy looking man was standing suddenly over Robert and helping him up.

-Are you the person who texted me?- Robert signed to the scruffy looking man after a couple seconds of staring at him. The man certainly didn't look like he knew his way around technology from appearance, but then again, Robert probably didn't look like someone who could make a loud racket.

Tag: Necropath

Yolande Rodriguez
New York

'I guess you're going to have to trust me' Yolande sassed irritably at Alexander, walking straight past the young man angrily 'Maybe the two of you back there can keep complaining how I've pretty much saved your hides and I'm delivering you to someone who can actually help people like you. Or heres a better idea...'

Quick as a flash, Yolande drew the standard issue company pistol from within her jacket and pointed it at the bridge of Alex's nose 'Bang. Thats how you know I'm not an agent, Mr Graber' Yo-yo said, tucking the pistol away and checking her watch 'Now I've still got more of you Caterpillars to pick up before we head interstate, so lets get a move on'

TAG: Random, Mat




Jill Saffords Phone
Iowa

The phone buzzed again, this time with another message.

'Saw you with the agent. Well played. 800-PRIMA16. contact when you can'

TAG: Rofl



Claude Raines
London

Claude narrowed his eyes as he deciphered the sign language, relying on his ancient knowledge from his time at the company to pick up the signs. Raising his eyebrow, he asked the question 'Message? What Message?'

TAG: Zensu

Alexander Graber ~ NYC

"Saved my hide?" Alexander stood for a moment. "You didn't do anything. I got my own ****** out of the way of attacking agents. You haven't done anything for me yet. You've spent more time threatening my life than saving it."

His eyes narrowed, becoming even more annoyed at the woman. "And trust me on this, I've seen worse things than anything those honey agents could do to me, or even you in your annoying little show of athority." he shook his head. "Now I would much prefer answers before we go anywhere. Why am I being attacked, why have I been dragged across the state, and even more importantly, why the hell did you just call me a catipillar."

tag: Necro, Mat

Robert Zanackas
London

Robert blinked, registering that maybe this person didn't send him the message after all. But he figured that maybe that he knew the person that sent the message, so he got out his cellphone and thumbed through the messages he received.

Once he found the mysterious message that had told him to escape, he held up the phone to show it to the man.

Tag: Necropath