[RP]Seekers of Power

Ren didn’t think much of the dream and who this stranger was, that’s why he just started spilling his guts to him. “Sometimes I dream about other people; strangers who get hurt. I never recognize any of them, but it always leaves me with a bad headache. It didn’t used to happen very often until recently.. then it happened every other night. Maybe I just wasn’t meant to have good dreams.”

Ren eyed the tiny green mass in front of him, sometimes swirling the cup in a clockwise motion to create tiny cyclones, only to suddenly swish it from side to side and cause a tsunami. It amused him, and did its part in quelling the anxiety in his mind from his dreams. That’s when an offer was extended out to him, he didn’t think anything of it. He’d be perfectly happy with walking back home at this hour, it’s not like it’d be dangerous or anything. If he made it this far already, he could make it back easy as apple pie.

But it wasn’t until after he did a double take on the offer. A man, was asking him, err, her, to stay the night? Ren wasn’t sure how to keep up the charade around a stranger, especially when a male likes to spend time and male comradery and all that. “Oh, it’s really no trouble at all really, I don’t think it’s that far.”

His voice squeaked in an abnormal way, cracking with a touch of femininity as he grew embarrassed. He coughed a few times, trying to hide what just transpired, and what back to sipping his tea.
 
Levont Mires

“Oh, it’s really no trouble at all really, I don’t think it’s that far.”

That entire sentence screamed one thing in Levont's mind. Said thought is, 'That pitch is near impossible to match by any man. Ren is a girl.'

Levont turned when a blast of cold air and snow slammed into the window. The Asian boy looked outside and saw near white as it started to snow hard. Levont smiled as he found out the easiest way to break the true ice, so to speak.

"It snowing hard outside. You'll freeze before you reach your place. You might as well get comfortable MISS Ren." Levont muttered, emphasizing on the Miss before he walked over to his bedroom to find a spare blanket and pillow.
 
Kicking a shard if glass aside, Altera proceeded into the building proper. The sounds of sirens at a distance made a small smile come to her face. That had been fast. No matter. It wasn't like they could stop her with their useless little guns, batons, and tear gas arrays.

Stepping further in as people scrambled back, she smiled gently at them, which did nothing to assuage their fears. Not that she needed to anyway. She had one goal here. The mental state of a few mundanes were of little concern. She was here for her prize, and that was all that mattered. As her heels clacked upon the ground and her out of place smile remained, she found her target.

Two force fields formed and pushed all others aside. If they had resisted she would have hurled them against a wall, though none did. They all just shuffled awkwardly as they were herded like base farm animals to their destination, and her hand reached out and snatched the collar of her target, drawing him in closer with her smile unchanging as she observed him.

Michael Crombie. An unimpressive man. Tall, but weedy, with a typical shirt, tie and black pants combo. Balding brown hair; dry and uncared for. Ha. What a pathetic specimen. She was sure he wouldn't be missed.

Crombie didn't resist as she dragged him towards the same window she had come from. Unfortunately, however, the authorities chose that exact moment to arrive. Clad in their typical navy blue outfits, they each held a handgun in both hands. Though they were frozen. Clearly they didn't know what they were dealing with here, and as it did, the unknown generated fear; hesitation.

Oh well, she would spurn them into action.

Raising a hand was all it took. Unthinking of her hostage, they fired a hail of bullets at her. But as her hand raised, power flowed through the air, and a shimmer confirmed the formation of the force field. The cracks of the guns were muffled, and let off a shrill screech as they bounced off her force field, which echoed through the tiny office room. The mundanes threw themselves to the ground with screams of terror as the bullets embedded themselves in walls, desks, shattered potted plants, family pictures and windows.

Taking advantage of the panic, Altera jumped backwards out of the window, drawing a gasp from her hostage as he was dragged with her, only for both to be caught by more force fields, which lowered them rapidly to safety. Altera ran into a crowd to force the police to hold their fire, then dragged Crombie into an alleyway and out of sight.

It was only after she reached a small bridge overlooking the ocean that she allowed herself to relax. It was nighttime, so nobody was here despite the golden and red light show that ordained the bridge at this time. She had escaped from the police, she was sure, but she still had to get her little victim home before she could relax for real.

A grunt escaped her involuntarily as the man elbowed her on the stomach and ran. He was faster and stronger than his appearance had suggested, and he was already sprinting away from her; fear and adrenaline probably helping him.

Well, she had no choice. A green pinprick of light formed in her hand, and as she placed it forward, flat out, a thin beam of green energy flew forth and pierced Crombie in the back, taking him down with an anguished, distant cry.

Folding her arms, she walked over to examine the damage.

Tch. She had aimed a little too well. The man was dead. Eyes wide open and back and chest bleeding. Altera had nicked his heart with that beam and he had died from the shock and rapid blood loss. For a brief moment her childlike self took over as she kicked the man, turning him over onto his back so that his lifeless eyes were staring at the night sky.

But then she regained composure. She thought about disposing of the body...but no. If she left it to be found in a public place, then the public themselves would panic. Panic led to caution, and caution led to division.

And division led to easy targets.

Yes, panic was an acceptable alternative to her brief victory.
 
At least the problem was not exclusive to Miranda. If even her own country-men would make that mistake, then she can't be that bad. Her guess at the pronunciation wasn't that far off after all. Miranda kept her eyes fixated on the empty street ahead. Her eyes occasionally strayed to her left, where Anarchia followed with barely audible steps, but never lingered for long. It must have been a surprise to her, considering her earlier reaction, that she would get to meet Muscle this early. Her mind wandered to her long-time friend and oft-visited supplier.

Muscle is, as his name suggests, a muscular man. Highly desirable, but just not meant to be. Miranda sighed inwardly as she whipped out her phone. Dialing his number with well-practiced ease, she waited as the call connected and a deep voice spoke on the other end.

"Well?"

"Hold on a second, Captain Obvious, let me think."

"Woah, hold up, sis. You close?"

Glancing over to Anarchia to guide the lady left, Miranda pointed to the rather dilapidated building.

"Close."

From far, it seems like an incomplete building. Up close, it becomes clear its a perfect place for criminals. There was virtually no lighting save for a few that barely illuminated enough of the corridor. Add in the distinct lack of security from patrolling cops and the formula completes itself - this area simply attracts crime. There had been several times that Miranda had to defend herself against an amateur thief looking to score on an easy target. Even more times, there were screams from somewhere in the building."

But there was only one area in this hell hole that is perfectly safe. Muscle calls it the eye of the hurricane. Looking over to Anarchia, Miranda gestures for her to continue up the stairs. "7th floor, third unit on your right," Miranda says as she followed the slender female. Reaching the door of the unit, Miranda stepped forward, pressing the bell. On realizing that didn't work, she turned to knocking, then slamming her fists on the door when that too, failed.

A rather irate Muscle answered soon enough. "F***ing b****es!" He breaks into gruff laughter as he beckoned them in. The crib must be surprisingly clean to Anarchia, who must have thought this cleanliness unlikely after walking here through the mess outside. The tiled floor was well polished without a significant dirt stain retained in it, the furniture that adorned the room were also just as well cleaned. Dust was a non-existent element here. Letting Anarchia enter, Miranda closed the door.

"Well, lady, Anakia was it? I hear from my little b**** there that you're looking to get some good stuff."

Muscle winks at Miranda who simply rolls her eyes.
 
A sudden howl outside caused him to turn, startled by the moaning of the wind and the pelting of the snow against the windows. No matter how hard he tried, he was still just as frightened by loud noises as any other little girl.

Shuddering, he goes back to sipping his tea, about to interject on the offer when Levont emphasized a certain word, his title.

Miss?

Ren bit his lip and lifted his head, looking to meet eye contact with the man across the table from him for the first time that night. His feminine facial features glowing in the kitchen light; thin pink lips, high cheekbones, delicate eyelashes. “But I-" It was too late though, she’d been outted.

Shifting in her seat uncomfortably, she wondered how she would get out of this one. Whether it would be to deny deny deny and keep up the charade, or come clean about everything, even her name. Besides, who was he, what could he do to harm her? On the other hand, there was no set amount of trust that she could place into his hands; he could kill her for knowing who she was, or she could let her go. But there was no knowing that he could know all that from a simple name.

He still thought her to be Ren, so she left it at that, neither correcting nor confirming it.
 
Levont Mires.

After digging through the closet, Levont found a spare blanket and pillow he could use. Walking out of his bedroom, the Asian boy looked over at the lady. She was nervous and rightly so. He had hit the nail on head and he was just taking a wild shot in the dark. Regardless, he was not about to do anything just because she was a girl and such. Damn his morality.

"You can use my bed for the night. Just don't take anything. Oh. Before anything else, let me reintroduce myself. I'm Levont Mires. What about your full name?" Levont asked as he tossed his pillow and blanket on the ground before spreading it out in a makeshift bed.

He wanted to get a few more minutes of exercise in before he hit the bed. So he walked over to his training dummy and looked at it before starting his martial arts routine while listening for Ren's response.
 
Soren watched with interest as the weapon wielding woman and her opponent faced off. Unfortunately his interest waned as she put the gun away.

"Oh, come on! We really, REALLY, need a death around here to liven things up," he said, shaking his head gently in disapproval.

The gun gone, the entertainment over, he moved on to more interesting prospects. Well, he hoped they were more interesting. Unfortunately, there wasn't much else. From the corner of his eye though he has seen some sort of light burst somewhere in midair but when he had gone to pinpoint it he couldn't find it. He simply put that down to a light in a building being changed or blowing.

His hand seemed to have lost its alien mind, lying limply at his side, feelign slowly returning to it. Cautiously he exercised it, stretching it out. It felt as though it had been asleep for some time- that pins and needles feeling was a bitch. There were still twinges of pain from where he had slammed it against the wall.

"Probably going to be a bruise..." he muttered, examining it.

Going back in he caught sight of the clock.

"Fuck me, it's getting late."

Setting the alarm on it, he headed into the kitchen and set the coffee pot up as well to start brewing as soon as the alarm went off. Kicking off his shoes as he went into his room, he undid his chain belt and let his pants fall to the floor before yanking off his shirt and tossing it to the ground. Falling back onto the king-sized bed he sighed before he took off his glasses and laid them beside the clock.

"Why the fuck do they need me so goddamn early," he muttered.

OOC: And waiting on time skips.
 
OOC: Btw, M4 Carbines are illegal in US as far as i can tell.

Anarchia Iilyavich Vesperia - Sevensheep


​



While they were making their way to Muscles hide out, Miranda pulled out her mobile and made a call. Half of her told her to be polite and try not to eavesdrop, but the other half screamed at her that any information is good information when you have none. Her utilitarian outlook meant that the latter one and nonchalantly, eavesdropped on her guide's conversation. It was nothing special really. Just probably asking about when they would arrive. Pointing to a rather run down building, Miranda said

"Close."

Close could only meant that that building was to be their destination. It was appalling, it appeared run down and not fully completed with close to zero light. It was the perfect cesspit for criminals. Anarchia was not going to risk anything. Her hand rested tightly on her tatang, right arm muscle tensing and prepping her in advance in case some undesirable came lunging out from the darkness.

"7th floor, third unit on your right,"

Miranda's sudden offer for her to take the lead made Anarchia's heart and mind pump harder. Her teal eyes scanned Miranda's own in the dim hallway, checking for any signs of treachery. It was only for a split second, but eventually, Anarchia shoved her suspicion aside and continued upwards towards the 7th floor, third unit. As soon as Miranda hammered the door, a rather large man appeared. From his stature, Anarchia could only guess that this had to be Muscles.

"F***ing b****es!"

Taking no heed to the profanity, Anarchia stepped into the house and was genuinely surprised. It was well kept mostly. Enough that she would probably not hesitate in taking a seat. Now in with the door closed, her hand relaxed her grip on the knife and went back to her side. It was still in stand by mode, but the tension had lowered considerably.

"Well, lady, Anakia was it? I hear from my little b**** there that you're looking to get some good stuff."

Anarchia. And yes. I am. Your associate said she was unfamiliar with the more technical aspects of firearms and suggested i negotiate directly with you. I shall repeat my list. I need a HK 53, MSG90, two Glock 18, MP9, Browning High Power and M4 Carbine. 2 sets of these. Also, i need to talk optics and accessories. What do you have? Aimpoints? Eotechs? ACOGS? Silencers? Suppressor kits? IR illuminators? Also explosives. What can you get me?
 
[OOC: It might be easier for you to do the guns details yourself. I know nuts about firearms, and the laws in the US... And the accessories. Some are recognizable thanks to COD.. But yeah, sorry man.]

"Woah, hold up, Arnakia."

Muscles made a writing gesture with his hand, looking hastily between Anarchia and Miranda. Miranda half-smiled as she strolled into her room, located right beside the entrance. Their crib was a small, two-room unit that included a storeroom that Muscles illegally constructed. That also meant that her room was halved, though it was still big enough to fit a single-person bed and a dressing table literally beside the bed - in the process also making the drawers it had obsolete. Still, there was little for Miranda to complain about. Muscles used to own this room, and had only let it out because of his so-called 'gentlemanliness'. Perhaps the only complaint she could possibly have is the lack of a wardrobe. Miranda's clothing had never got a chance to be properly hung up in one, perpetually stuck on the ground in their neatly folded fashion.

Miranda jumped on her bed, ignoring the fact that the two people outside could still see her clearly. Turning to face the ceiling, she reached for the stack of used papers and the pen on it, and, propping her legs up and sitting up, she launched herself off the bed, to Muscles' ire.

"Here."

Muscles snatched the paper and pen, frowning at the girl as he hurriedly jot down the firearms that Anarchia mentioned. On writing down M4 Carbine, he slowed down briefly, before moving on to add the list of accessories she mentioned. This deal was going to be one of the biggest he had in a while.


"Wow. The M4 Carbine? You're looking for some serious shit!"

Looking through the list again, he stares at Anarchia, an amused expression etched on his face. Miranda raised a brow as she wondered about the emphasis given to the M4 Carbine. "Well, more talk, less staring. I know her hair is really nice," Miranda said.

Muscles looked at Anarchia again and realized that detail.

"What's wrong with people dying their hair huh."

"Let me think..."

"Well anyway, Anarkia. That's quite an expensive deal you're talking about here. I can get you the stuff, even the M4 Carbine, but I'm gonna need cold hard cash, a few days, and also, I'll need the cash upfront. Of course, there's a certain level of trust to be had here, so you can ask anything of me in exchange. A collateral if you will. Sounds good?"
 
OOC: Ok. Laws, im not overly sure either, but meh. We can wing it since she will never get the guns (balancing for power). Lets just say she had listed all the micellaneous stuff already. Short one before bed.
Anarchia Iilyavich Vesperia - Sevensheep

​



"Wow. The M4 Carbine? You're looking for some serious shit!"

Anarchia stayed silent. The M4 was a good gun, but she had preference with the SIG and the ACR. It didnt matter though. As long as it worked properly like a normal gun, she'll adapt to it sooner or later. If the only concern he has was the M4, then it was a blessing. The MSG90 sniper rifles had her worried as well, but that didn't seem to be an issue. Explosives were not particularly hard to obtain, though she was rather impressed with some of the more demanding items she wanted. Whatever the case, the deal was proceeding smoothly.

"Well, more talk, less staring. I know her hair is really nice,"

The short silence was punctured by Miranda chirping in, commenting on her hair. She was used to it by now and her response was pretty much reflex.

"What's wrong with people dying their hair huh."

My hair is naturally teal as are my eyes, just as yours is black. It is a gene from my mother's side.

"Well anyway, Anarkia. That's quite an expensive deal you're talking about here. I can get you the stuff, even the M4 Carbine, but I'm gonna need cold hard cash, a few days, and also, I'll need the cash upfront. Of course, there's a certain level of trust to be had here, so you can ask anything of me in exchange. A collateral if you will. Sounds good?"

Muscle swerved the conversation back on track, which was good. As much as the house was clean, the neighbourhood sucked and she wanted to get out as soon as humanely possible. The idea of using her powers flickered up here and there, but she dismissed it. It wouldnt be good in case someone spotted her. Teal hair was hard to hide.

Cash is fine. I generally don't deal with collateral. Stakes not deep enough. The only thing strong enough to ensure honour with a deal is the threat of death. If you cross me, i will kill you.

Anarchia didn't say it as a threat. Just matter of factly. Any one that messes with her would earn her eyes. She would deal with her targets the most efficient way possible. No messing about, whether that be a bullet to the head from 1.5 km away or stabbing them in the heart up close. Iglesias had drilled into her head that the US differed from warring countries and iron merchants there. Those merchants know the code and the very real possibility of a followup. These street runners were dubious at best. Anarchia's method probably would not work nor be honoured properly and she was not risking it.

..... Sigh....Ok. Collateral... I'll dictate the meeting conditions then. I ask that only you and at most, your associate come. I will meet you face to face alone with my aide on marksmen support. You both can come be armed with firearms, whilst ill just have my knives. If my aide so much as see another person besides you two from your side, they're dead. Even if it is just a ruger hunting rifle, my aide is proficient with precision shooting. Your life is collateral enough for the deal and ill add myself as collateral for your side. Fair enough?
 
[OOC: That settles it then, I suppose we're ready for the time skip with this.]

Muscles shrugged. As far as he was concerned, all these were small talk. He didn't know who this Anarchia was to be able to make the threat of death as if it meant nothing, but he certainly knew that he wasn't planning on dying in this deal. Miranda stared intently at Anarchia, thinking the same thing, inferring numerous possibilities ranging from the mild to the extremes. Nevertheless, there was far too little time for her to pull off her usual 'let me think'.

"Deal, Muscles and I will procure this list and meet you... in about 5 days or so."

Ignoring Muscles' rising protest, Miranda tore off a piece of paper from the one Muscles was using and quickly scribbled her number on it. She hands it over to Anarchia and begins walking her to the door.

"Call me on that number for any details you need, and tell us the location you would have us meet. Hopefully it won't be too conspicuous, considering the things you're ordering."

Miranda smiles as she took a step back. "Now, sorry for the rudeness. Bye," and she closed the door to face Muscles. "Even with an advance sum that will come by some unknowns means, I'm actually doubtful that I can get any of those, much less the M4 Carbine."

"Well, we best hurry anyway."

"B****! Ha. You're gonna be real busy from here on out."

The two laughed, their laughter filling up the quietness of the house.
 
OOC: Lets go to sleep then. Thats it for Anarchia and Miranda's interaction.

Anarchia Iilyavich Vesperia - Sevensheep
​


"Deal, Muscles and I will procure this list and meet you... in about 5 days or so."

At the very least, Muscles was willing to go ahead despite Anarchia's threat. With the deal closed, Anarchia felt no need to stay any longer and was about to get up and leave when Miranda handed her a sheet with details before beginning to walk her out.

"Call me on that number for any details you need, and tell us the location you would have us meet. Hopefully it won't be too conspicuous, considering the things you're ordering. Now, sorry for the rudeness. Bye,"

Without a word nor turning back, Anarchia marched herself off. The sooner she was out of this cesspit the better. Despite the cleanliness of the house, just being in this area revolted Anarchia more than the battlefields she has been in. Street scums had always left a bad taste in her mouth and now that she was dealing with one, it was all the more strong. She needed professionalism and there was something lacking in the trust department with Muscles and Miranda. He claims that he is able to obtain the M4 plus the plethora of military grade gear, but something was niggling at the back of her mind, making her less optimistic about it. Whatever the case, she needed to get out of here. Even as she descended the staircase, now alone, several of the building's inhabitants began to stir.

Iglesias. Where are you? I need a pick up. This place is horrid.

Just step right out.

Upon taking several steps out, said inhabitants also shuffled out, giving Anarchia a proper view of them. Slouched hats, pants hanging half way off their bottoms and waddling about. Her irked feeling was really compelling Anarchia to do something violent to vent her anger when Iglesias's Nissan GT-R skidded around the corner in a drift and pulled up next to the curb. The white door swung open and staring at the gangsters for another second, Anarchia got into the passenger seat before Iglesias punched the engine.

Isn't it great that i hacked and turned on your GPS function? Otherwise, things would have gotten real messy.

Great. Now you'll even know when i go to the toilet. Just take us home. I feel like i need to disinfect myself... perhaps burn your car since it went through that area.

What?! You're joking right?! I just got this baby.

I wonder... am i?

The sports car shot through the quiet night, back towards the hotel the duo were staying at while they were in New Bedford.
 
The first two days of Lyra’s “plan” had been horrible for Alyss. Every morning at 7am, Lyra would wake Alyss up by shaking her far too roughly while she slept on the couch. For one thing, Alyss wasn’t used to sleeping on the couch. Therefore she was still always tired for a couple of hours upon being woken up. Secondly, she wasn’t used to waking up so early in the morning. Much less being woken up early in the morning for bank robbing, or as Lyra would call it, “money liberating”. The whole situation made Alyss uncomfortable. However, any protest she would give to Lyra would be shot down. Lyra simply didn’t care.

From there, Lyra would force her to make breakfast in the morning. Of course, she kept trying to refuse, but all Lyra would have to do was simply wave her hand and mention leaving without restoring anyone’s memory and Alyss would reluctantly and silently obey. Alyss hated almost every single second of it. She didn’t enjoy having to steal, she didn’t enjoy having someone tell her what to do all the time, and she certainly didn’t enjoy feeling as if she had no control over her life. However, a bit of her did feel that it was quite relieving, but every time she tried to think of the good aspects of it, she would quickly become annoyed at something Lyra would do.

Due to Lyra’s constant requesting of Alyss’ ability to teleport, she discovered that if she teleported too much in one day, her nose would begin to bleed. While she found it to be an annoyance, what she found worse was that Lyra would complement on how she looked “cute” when it happened. To make matters worse, Lyra wouldn’t stop demanding Alyss’ teleportation until she could see that she had simply had enough of it. Alyss could only take so much in one day, and Lyra seemed to be determined to push Alyss to that limit often. In just one day they had hit six banks and stolen over three hundred thousand dollars.

One would think that would be enough, but as they got home that day, when Alyss asked if she could have her life back, Lyra simply smiled and told her that three hundred thousand was “chump change” and once again shackled Alyss to the couch as she slept in her bed. After the second day, Lyra let Alyss have her bed back under two conditions. The first was that once again, Alyss was shackled by the ankle to the bed to ensure she wouldn’t run away. The second was that she share it with Lyra. Of course, Alyss couldn’t refuse. She was tired of sleeping on a couch when her bed was so close. Alyss was uncomfortable as always, but knew that complaining would get her nowhere.

Normally, Alyss would always find a way to get her way. All she would have to do was whine or complain or yell and people would practically bow to her. Lyra wasn’t the type at all. No matter how much she complained or yelled, Lyra wouldn’t give in. She made it clear that she was in control and that there was nothing Alyss could do about it at all. There would be times when she tried to bribe her with money, but Lyra would refuse constantly. More often than not, she would then say something along the lines of Alyss being “adorable” when she begged, and Alyss would fold her arms and grunt in disgust.

After three days, Alyss was actually beginning to get used to Lyra’s company. They would have conversations that lasted longer than a few minutes… which was rare for the both of them. Lyra found Alyss to be quite bright… if not bratty and a little misguided. Alyss found Lyra to be very intelligent, but very guarded. She seemed to avoid speaking about anything that would reveal anything about her past. However, Alyss couldn’t complain. She did find it a bit nice to actually talk to someone she didn’t think was a complete idiot… even if they were controlling and holding her hostage.

On the fourth day, Lyra let Alyss sleep without the shackle. However, Alyss still slept in the bed scrunched up in her own little corner while Lyra practically hogged the entire thing. One would think a king sized bed would fit the both of them. However, Lyra moved a lot when sleeping whereas Alyss never moved at all. In fact, with Alyss being such a light sleeper, she never got too much of it due to Lyra’s constant moving around.

On the fifth day, Lyra counted her money as Alyss sat, watched, and hoped that it was all over. Her entire closet was stuffed with bags of money. While most people would have been thrilled, Alyss could only see it as what it was: evidence. She just wanted it gone. She wanted Lyra gone. She wanted her life back. However, a part of her was quite sad that Lyra would just be leaving. In their short time together, they did get to know each other somewhat. Even Alyss found that she was yelling at Lyra much less than she yelled at anyone else. However, after Lyra had counted far past two million, she looked up at Alyss and smiled. “I suppose we should go and what you want.”

Alyss quickly put her shoes on and they headed out. However, she made sure she kept her head down the entire way. She was far too paranoid to show her face at the moment. “Are you sure this was foolproof? I do not want police knocking at my door asking me questions.” Alyss said. “Yes, I’m sure. Trust me, no one will ever know about this except for you and I.” That did make her feel a little comfortable. But something was still bothering her. “And I will never see you again? Not even for a little visit?” There was a long pause as they continued walking. “Probably not; I’ll head out and go do other things… or vacation. Thanks to you, my little ace in the hole, I’m set for quite some time.”

They both were, actually. Lyra was true to her word and let Alyss keep 25%. She kept refusing to take it, but Lyra insisted… and Lyra always got her way, it seemed. “Well, if you are ever in town… I-I suppose you could just stay at my place. Just as long as you do not shackle me to the couch ever again.” Lyra simply laughed as they neared a large apartment building. “He lives here, on the 34[SUP]th[/SUP] floor. You’re ready, I take it?” Alyss shook her head as they walked up to the building and pressed the button for his room. “I do not understand why I have to meet this man. He did not take my memories.” Lyra wrapped her arm around Alyss shoulder and pulled her in close, causing Alyss to jump a bit. “Just in case you ever get in trouble, it may be wise to meet him. You never know…” She said, pressing the button again. “Odd, he should be answering.”
 
Altera had been tracking this man for three days now, and had finally tracked him down to this building, on the thirty fourth floor. It hadn't taken long to rise up on a force field and blast through the window with a laser.

The man had been armed, of course, and had immediately tried to fire on her. A force field had repelled the bullet, sending it through the telephone on the nearby desk and destroying it. That done, she had sent a bolt of electricity from the television and blasted the gun out of his hands, as well as burning his hands. He had staggered back with a yelp, clutching his hands and staring at her like an animal caught in the headlights of a car. He had opened his mouth to talk, but-

"That will not be necessary." Altera raised a hand. "I have a few questions for you...memory manipulator." The man's eyes widened further as he looked at her. Ha. So he was surprised. Well, many were upon first seeing her. "I'll start with a simple question. To what extent do your powers reach?" Folding her arms, she awaited an answer from the man.

Thirty seconds. Nothing. She sighed and raised a hand. A glimmer of blue in her palm, and then a beam of blue energy seared the man's hand, and he screamed and jerked back. His hand blistered, turned red, then the blisters ruptured, leaving a trail of blood and hot pus running down his arm as he leaned against a wall, gasping for breath. His hand had been burned black in some areas, and where it had, there was no pain; the nerves had been completely burned away.

"Perhaps it would be better if I asked you a simple question. Can you take memories?" A nod. "Can you remove them?" Again, a nod. "Can you place false memories in their place?" A shrug. Doubt.

"Alright. Have you used your powers recently?" Hesitation. Altera waited a few seconds, with arm folded, but no answer. How galling. Her hand raised again, and this time, electricity gathered at her fingertips, sparks dancing from the electronic appliances in the room and gathering in her hand. "This could have been so much easier," she said, with the hint of a smile.

The sparks went straight for his face, and he writhed in pain, screams tearing through the apartment room; guttural, disgusting sounds that gave way to gargling cries as his eyes were seared. She made sure not to inflict fatal wounds, of course. She still needed answers from this one. And then she needed to deliver him to the machine.

Then again, she couldn't risk an escape. Perhaps it would be best to kill him after she got her answers. She had worked her way to his eyes now, melting them in their sockets, leaving a gooey white substance oozing out of his face. His hands, which he had tried to cover his face with, were a pair of red, black and white abominations, utterly destroyed by her sparks.

"The sooner you answer my questions, the sooner this all ends!" she spoke loudly, over his screams and the sounds of sizzling. White flashes of light bounced through the room, likely out the window and under the door as well. The TV screen smashed and caught fire. The telephone cord snapped. The oven in the kitchen began to squeal, and cracks ran up and down the walls like rapidly constructed spiderwebs.

A buzzing sound drew her attention as she kept the onslaught going. He was getting visitors? Now? Damn. She had to bring this to a close now. Raising her other hand, a large green light shone in her palm, before an incredibly thick beam issued from her hand, piercing the man in the heart and blasting him into the air and through the wooden door as her stream of electricity ceased. Splinters of wood embedded themselves in his back, neck, and head, but he was already dead from the moment the laser hit.

His flight came to a crashing halt as he stopped against the wall of the hall, a wreck that was once a human being; now nothing more than a ruined husk. His visitors would definitely see him when they arrived. She needed to get out.
 
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Something wasn’t right. There was no reason as to why he wouldn’t be answering the buzzer. He didn’t leave the apartment often as he did most of his work from his computer. “Alyss, make sure no one is coming.” Without a word, she did as she was asked. After living with her for five days, taking orders from her seemed to come naturally. As she turned, she looked down both sides of the street and only saw a couple of people. It was quite dark out. Most people wouldn’t be traveling at this hour. “No, no one is coming.”

Without waiting for anything else, a bright flame flashed from Lyra’s hand. In seconds, the doorknob melted straight through and the door was easily pushed open. “We’re going to have to let ourselves in.” Alyss said nothing as she followed Lyra through the door. From there, they walked across the rather eloquently painted marble tile floor to the elevator. Lyra pushed the button and they started heading towards their destination. To Alyss, the entire ordeal felt like it was taking forever. Not to mention it seemed that Lyra couldn’t stop breaking laws to save her life… it was making her nervous.

However, as she looked at Lyra, she noticed that she seemed very on edge. Lyra knew that something was wrong. He would have called if he was going out... he wouldn’t leave the apartment unless he really needed to. Stephen was paranoid like that. Once the elevator stopped, Lyra instantly knew something was wrong. Something smelled like burnt flesh and blood. “Shit,” she said as she took off running towards his room. Alyss quickly followed, but knew she wasn’t as fast as Lyra. Luckily for her, the apartment they were looking for wasn’t far. As they both reached it, Lyra shot a ball of fire out of her hand and at the door.

The door shattered into pieces and she walked through it casually to a rather brutal sight. Stephen lied dead on the floor… at least what was left of him. He no longer had eyes, blood streamed down his arms, hands, and his face. She could tell from the sight of him that there was no longer anyone there. However, above him stood a girl… pale skin, much like Alyss’, blue eyes, and somewhat reddish hair, and clearly the one responsible. Most people would have been furious… but in over 60 years of life, Lyra had seen it all, and as such she remained calm. “Do you mind explaining to me why my friend here had to die?”

Alyss, however, was the exact opposite. She had never seen a dead body before. The sight to her was unnerving, unnatural, and completely shocking. She shuddered and dropped to her knees at the sight of it. However, she looked up when she heard Lyra mention that the person dead on the floor was her friend. She said nothing as she looked back from the body, to Lyra, to the girl with a look of horror on her face. If he was the one that was supposed to give her parents their memory back, and he was dead… N-No… this cannot be happening… t-this cannot be happening…
 
Two people arrived on the scene. A red headed girl who seemed young, panicked, distraught at the sight of the corpse, and another who appeared the same age, but significantly calmer. Almost detached. The latter was asking her questions in an almost conversational tone while the former was on her knees, apparently having some sort of breakdown.

Directing her attention to the black haired woman, she spoke as she looked down on the body, using a towel that had been hanging on a wall rail to wipe some of the gore splatter from her hands. "He would have gotten in the way," she said coolly. "I can't have someone who runs around manipulating memories playing the field and interfering with my plans."

Finished wiping her hands down, she cast the towel aside, covering the dead man's face with it. "People with powers like that will set everything back weeks. I can't have that. I tried to get some information out of him, but he was unwilling to cooperate, so I had to kill him. The mess and loss of life is regrettable, but this is for the greater good."

She smiled gently at the black haired woman. "I don't expect somebody like you to understand. And I won't tell you anything more. Now. Leave. I have to clean up the mess I've made." Her smile became fuller. Her more childish personality was taking over. "Or...are you one of those, too? Do you and your friend require a little alteration?" She ran her fingers over the woman's face. "Would you like to give yourselves over?" A giggle escaped her lips. "Or join your friend in death?"
 
Lyra reacted in no form to the girl’s words, or even when she touched her. In fact, all she did was fold her arms across her chest. She knew nothing about the girl. Picking a fight without knowing what the girl was capable of was silly. The best cause of action was to keep a cool head and attempt to work things out. “You say you have ‘plans’. Do you mind telling me what those are? How was his ability a hinderance to them? And when you say ‘greater good’, what do you mean by that?” Her voice was cold, yet calm. It was as if she was simply speaking to her at a business level. Alyss on the other hand, was still looking at them both in horror… and slowly at the girl in anger.

How can Lyra be so calm about this?! Alyss thought. That stupid girl just ruined everything! She was still panicking, but she was also horridly angry. How was she supposed to get things back to normal now? Lyra was going to leave and she couldn’t keep robbing banks blind forever. Without her parent’s money she was bound to starve on the street. Never before in her life had she felt such a mixture of sadness and angry welled up into one. In almost an instant she started thinking of things she would have never imagined herself doing.

She looked up at the girl who was now strangely childish. The girl seemed to be distracted by Lyra… that’s all she needed. I can teleport to her, grab her by the head, and teleport her into a wall… T-That is all I need… I can do this… In anger, she teleported instantly to the side of the girl and swung her hand out to grab her by the neck. Lyra instinctively jerked back at the sudden happening only to realize what was going on far too late. Alyss had attacked out of anger at the girl. Now the girl was more than likely going to attack them both. Flames rose up from her hands in preparation of what was to come.
 
"That is one of your concern." Altera's smile became smaller; less genuine. This person was asking too much. Why were they so interested? And why were they so inhumanely calm? She was in her late teens. Early twenties at best. So why wasn't she running in a panic like any other girl her age would? Her eyes told a different story. They were cold; calm. It was as though she had seen this entire thing before. Now wasn't that an interesting possibility? Was she older than she looked. Altera was beginning to suspect so.

"Tell me. Just how old are y-" But before she could finish the sentence, the red headed girl vanished with a whip snap crack, and with another appeared beside her, hand outstretched, face full of fury.

Altera's reaction was instantaneous. Her eyes went cold as she quickly evaluated the situation. The girl's power was teleportation. She had no more that she knew of, and seemed to require touch to teleport another, judging by her hand reaching out. With that in mind, she quickly coated her body with electricity as her hand reached out for her. Upon touch, she would discharge and incapacitate the girl.

As for the second one, the black haired woman, she was clearly the talker. The one in charge. Confident. Her powers were likely more offensive. Without turning to look at the black haired woman, she materialized three pinpricks of purple light in the air, and released a trio of thin laser beams, aiming for the woman's legs. Incapacitation was once again the objective. She didn't have energy to spend on another kill.
 
Alyss was blind as to what the girl had just done. As she coated her body with electricity, Alyss grabbed at her arm and successfully touched it. However, the second she did so, she felt an incredibly painful shock travel up her arm and throughout the rest of her body. There was a loud and high pitched scream that escaped from Alyss as dropped to the ground. The scream quickly died as she passed out the second she hit the ground. Lyra on the other hand, didn’t have time to strike at all.

She watched as Alyss screamed and hit the ground, but had no time to worry as she barely noticed three small needle like shards of purple light charge at her. She narrowly dodged the first one, but was unable to do the same with the others. One hit her left thigh as the other hit her right knee. Unable to stand due to the pain of it, she collapsed. The girl hadn’t even bothered to look at her as it happened. Once she hit the ground she let out a stream of fire, but quickly stopped. The walls were made of wood. The last thing she wanted was to be trapped in a room set ablaze while she could not walk.

With a grunt, she spoke. “Fine, you win,” a small bit of frustration lingered at her voice but not at the girl. If anything, she was more upset with Alyss for foolishly attacking. She looked over at Alyss’ body. Alyss was unmoving. It was difficult to tell if she was breathing or not from the look of her. I was right not to attack. She has multiple powers… I wouldn’t have lasted long either way.
 
Both women went down easily. The second one released a stream of fire upon hitting the ground, but quickly cut it off. And wisely too. The walls were made of wood, after all, and the television and oven were already on fire.

Now, this girl who could teleport. She would make a worthwhile captive. Perhaps she would surrender her power after a little persuasion. A smile came to her face at the thought. Today had set off a bloodlust within her. She was only doing this for the future, so what did it matter if she derived a little pleasure from her calling? Was it so bad? So unacceptable? She thought not.

A blue square platform appeared beneath the redhead's' body, and raised her into the air for transportation. As it solidified fully and glimmered in the sunlight pouring through the window, and the small fires burning in the room, she turned and smiled at the girl her lasers had brought down. "I have to thank you, firestarter. You've brought an invaluable asset into my plans, and I'm sure she will turn over to those assets to me after a little...duress." With an almost mocking bow, she materialized a blue platform beneath her own feet, and directed both out of the window.

It was still early morning, so almost nobody was around, and she charged the force fields to the color of the sky and clouds so that she wouldn't expose anything. Before long, they had arrived at the factory, and she directed them through a smashed in window, and laid both the unconscious body and herself onto the floor, before dispelling the force fields.

The machine was there as ever, thrumming gently. She smiled; her first completely genuine smile all day, and waited for the girl to wake up.

Then, the real task would begin.
 
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