Official RP Thread: The Evolutionist's Stone (2)

[Celadon's Penultimate]

"So, Toad, you got Cookie to help, right?" Ivan asked, as he, Pierce and Flores walked into Cookie's room. Before Fitz had the chance to answer, however, the question answered itself. The familiar forms of Ginger and Torres popped in to Cookie's room at the same time, with a combination of an airy 'whoosh' and a bright flash. Ginger's astral form returned to Ginger, and her physical body woke up and stepped off the bed.

"Okay, I brought Torres. Now what?"

"Nice duds, T." Ivan snickered.

Torres thought to reply sarcastically, but then turned around, recognizing the familiar Cockney accent, and did a facepalm.

"What do you want now, Bruiser?"

"Well, see," Ivan started, grinning stupidly, "What I had planned was that we go after Jack...if you don't mind teleportin' us all, that is."

The others, except Cookie, all looked dumbfounded at Ivan.

"You mean you knew that we'd bring it up in conversation to ask Cookie for help? And that she'd ask Ginger to find Torres?" Flores asked, in a bit of shock.

"Oh, calm down; it's not like he hasn't done sneakier stuff. My boy Ivan's a regular criminal mastermind, when he wants to be." Pierce clapped Ivan on the back, grinning.

"Hm. Well, I don't know how you intend to get me and you and Flores and Pierce and Fitz into wherever Jack is. And how do you even know where he is? He could be in a box that only fits one or two people, or somethin'. Then what?"

"Teleport us just outside  the box," Ivan snickered.

"That ain't funny." Torres snapped, "My power is no joke. Right, Fitzy?"

"Yeah, he's right. One wrong move, or too much stress, and we're all stickin' halfway outta wall plaster, or drownin' at the bottom of some lake. Or in outer space. Or--"

"Okay, we get the point!" Flores barked, "Can we just figure out a way to get to Jack?"

"Mind if I give it a try?" A female voice intruded. Tessa had overheard the hubbub, and had woken up the others.

"Oh, uh, hey, Mandy, what are you--?"

"Save it, Streaky. I'll deal with you later, for leaving me out of your little rescue mission." Tessa hissed, "Now, which one of you just projected your mind into the Astral Realms? Mark said somebody just crossed into, and out of, the spirit world. But nobody here's dead. So..."

"That'd be me." Ginger volunteered, "I found Torres so they can reach your friend."

"Well, did you find out where he is?" Nadia asked.

"A train. Headed out of Texas. First to the Louisiana-Alabama-Mississippi territory, and then north to New York and Illinois." Corrina answered with a perturbed look on her face.

"You said he was in danger." Fitz volunteered.

"How? Is it gonna derail? Is it gonna come under siege?" Pierce asked, hoping to coax more out of Cookie, "C'mon, woman, talk!"  

Cookie looked at him, with a shrug, but the Spirit World had something else to say; with a sudden spasm, Cookie came under the influence of the Astral Realm again.

"C-c-c-c---! C-cc-c-cc-c--!"

"What's she saying? Cookie? Corrina? Contact?" Flores tried to follow Cookie's lips to make out her words, but it proved most ineffective.

"C-cc-c-c-c-cc-Ch-Cha-Charisma!"

"CHARISMA?" The group parroted quizzically.

"Charisma." She sighed, finally regaining some semblance of composure.

"What, he's gonna be charmed to death?" Ivan tested his rudimentary connect-the-dots skills by piecing together the idea of charisma and danger.

"No, ya goof, tha' cannot be it. Can it?" Fitz shot down the idea, and then reconsidered it, looking over at Cookie. Stranger things had happened than that, so he took care not to discount the idea so quickly.

"No...it's...well...maybe that is it. Kinda, sorta. Oh, just go see for yourself!"

Meanwhile, the dangers of the train would soon become apparent to Jack and Archer aboard the train.

"Crap. That was unlucky. Or lucky they were so incompetent, I guess." Jack huffed as he and Archer made their way back into their train booth.

"Well, let's just hope that's all that life can throw at us for now."

As they spoke about the threat of Marina and her minions, another threat lay in wait, just a booth down.

"Ah, yes, let's see...Caucasian male, biracial." a female voice read, "Doesn't say what the other race is, though. Six-foot something. Ooh...Handsome picture. This profile won't be hard to miss. Now...time to do some scouting." She blinked, and her vision roamed imperceptibly from her eyes. It peeked out from her booth, and looked in on the booth behind her, the booth across from her, and the booth across from the one in front of her, all of whom were none the wiser. Then finally, her sight looked in on the booth in front of her. Her actual eyes widened, and she retracted the invisible psychic periscope with which she spied her target.

"Perfect!" spoke the source of the voice, just above a whisper. Hazel-green eyes blinked, smiling a wicked, feline grin, and Charisma LeVeaux was on the prowl. She stood up, slender, shapely legs, lovely light brown skin, and made her way to “bump into” her target.

“Oh!” she exclaimed sweetly, expertly feigning disappointment, “This booth is taken, too? How...unfortunate. I hope somebody didn’t sneak on, and take my rightful seat.”

Picking their jaws up off the floor at the sight of the black beauty, Archer and Jack looked at the lovely lady, and searched for words.

Jack spoke up first, asking, “Are you lost?”

“Well, yes. I have a bit of a bad memory, and I forgot my booth number. I’ll find it, though, I’m sure—“

“You could sit with us.” Archer volunteered with a goofy smile, “You, know...until we stiff, uh, I mean until we board.” To cover up his gaffe, he quickly held out his hand and added, “I’m Archer; this here is my friend Jack.”

Charisma chuckled insidiously inside. Outside, she smiled sweetly, shook the boys’ hands, and took a seat beside Jack.

“So, where are you two headed?”

“Oh, well, I’m--”

“Jack?” she quickly added, making sure that Archer knew she wasn’t talking to him.

“Well, I’m on my way anywhere this train will take me. I was, uh advised that it would be best I just leave town. Y’know, get out on my own.”

“Oh, interesting...so you have no place in mind? No one is expecting you?” Charisma pried, hoping she wasn’t just hearing things, “not even...a lady friend?”
Jack and Archer exchanged glances.
        “Uh, no...nobody like that right now.” Jack blushed, averting his gaze, so as to avoid letting his gaze wander down her shirt.
        “Oh, that’s too bad...being so lonely. Having to exile yourself to some unknown place must be awful; and without even the company of a woman? It’s tragic.” Charisma let her eyes linger on his facial features, and roam his body for a second too long. She had to make sure it seemed like she was interested.
        Archer caught sight of her gaze, and very conspicuously put his hand to his mouth, giving a fairly loud “ahem”. Realizing that she had been spotted, she turned her gaze back to a small slip of paper she’d fished out of the booth compartment, and proceeded to write on it. When she was done scribbling on that, she giggled girlishly, and then slowly stood up.
        “Ah, excuse me. I have to look for the lady’s room.” She made sure to accentuate her lithe frame as she rose, and walked out of the booth. And Jack and Archer made sure to watch her as she left. Archer thought to make a comment about the things he would do to her if he could, but was quickly stopped by the sight of a small slip of paper that Charisma had dropped on the ground.
        “Hey, what’s--?” Archer picked up the small slip, and read it to himself.

Didn’t want your friend to seem left out, so I had to pretend to be interested. But, let’s face it, it’s you I want. I think you’re really sexy. Meet me in the bathroom for a little fun.

Archer’s heart nearly jumped. It had been a while since his escapades had paid off so well. Those were the days, Archer thought. So without as much as a ‘See ya,’ he got up, adjusting his pants, and started for the bathroom.
“Where are you going?” Jack asked, looking over curiously at Archer as he was opened the door to the booth.
“Uh, I got the sudden urge to go to the bathroom. Real bad.” Archer smiled wide at the thought.
Jack went back to looking out the window, figuring Archer’s true intentions were none of his business. Hopefully they would be seeing the bayous of Louisiana by the time he woke up from the nap he planned to take.
As for Archer, he steadily trod down the hall of the train car, hoping to see the label for the bathroom. Reaching the edge of the hallway, his destination was now in sight. The crowded cabin at the end of the same row as his and Jack’s cabin: a unisex bathroom. How fitting.
He opened the door, and backed in with a smile. Turning around, he was welcomed with the sight of the lovely vixen just putting on the finishing touches of her lipstick. She turned to face him with a smile.
‘Damn it!’ she thought to herself, ‘I thought Jack would pick that note up!’ But outside, she couldn’t let down the façade. She put a hand on his shoulder, and pulled his face to her, kissing him as though the two were long-lost lovers finally reunited. Archer gladly played along, putting his hands on her hips and pulling her close.
“Y’know, I kinda had a feeling you didn’t like me very much,” Archer spoke in-between kissing her neck passionately.
“I’m a good faker,” Charisma replied breathlessly, feeling the muscular curvature of his biceps, and enjoying how he fondled her.
The two continued to run their hands over one another, until they ran across unpleasant surprises at the same time. Archer reached between her legs and didn’t feel anything close to what he expected. Charisma reached for his zipper and felt behind the material of Archer’s pants something that couldn’t possibly be what she expected.
“I hope that’s a gun, Ms. LeVeaux...” Archer smiled, messaging it cautiously.
“I know that can’t be anything but a gun, Mr. Flegn.” Charisma replied, patting it with a smile.
Archer reached quickly for his gun, but looked up for a second, realizing that Charisma already had the upper hand, and put his hand down.
“Sweet mother...you have Laser Vision.” His face dropped, realizing the familiar glow in Charisma’s eyes.
“That’s right, Archie. Keep your hand away from your gun, and we can get through this with as little trouble as possible.”

[Celadon's Penultimate]

Charisma kept her eyes fixed on Archer as she reached for her concealed gun, and pointed it at his head. Archer dared not even react; her blinking could quickly blast the hell out of him, and they both knew it.

"Y'know, you have nice eyes." Archer offered, as he Charisma mulled over what to do with him.

"Shut up, you kiss-a**." Charisma hissed. She contemplated execution-style. Point blank to his face. Shot to the heart. She even thought to force him out the back door of the train car. But a better idea quickly came to mind.

"Give me your gun."

"Uh..." He looked down, and quickly made sure to mention, "It's in my boxers. It fell in my pants when I put it back. It's stuck in the hole where you pull out your...uh...business."

Charisma looked at him with a feline smirk. She crossed her arms, eying him expectantly, "Well?"

"Well, what?" Archer gave Charisma a bewildered fisheye, hoping she didn't mean what he was thinking she meant. Unfortunately, she did.

"Drop 'em."

He rolled his eyes in annoyance, and hesitantly started to pull his pants down.

"Oh, what, now you're bashful? Just a second ago, you couldn't wait to get 'em off. So strip. And if you try anything funny--"

"Like you're trying now?" Archer snapped.

"Keep getting’ smart." Charisma dared. She was hoping she'd get the chance to blast the hell out of him anyway. It'd certainly give her some street cred, and bump her name up a bit on the assassin scale.

He finally got his pants down around his ankles, keeping only his boxers on, and the femme fatale yanked the gun from the hole.

"Can I pull my pants up now?" Archer remarked, looking obviously uncomfortable.

"Of course. I got what I wanted." Charisma chuckled, "Nothing else down there exactly catches my eye..."

"Yeah, whatever, it woulda caught yer eye if it was down yer throat..."

Charisma scoffed, "Please, honey; like it would even reach that far. And anyway, it's nothing personal. I just don't mix business with pleasure," Archer raised an accusatory eyebrow at that, so she added, "Well, at least I try not to."

She turned the gun the right way, and led him out of the bathroom. The two headed across the hall into the booth that she knew to be hers.

"Get down on your knees."

"Oh, you're into that S&M s**t, huh?" Archer remarked.

Charisma answered him a quick jarring blow to the back of his head, with the butt of his own gun.

When he woke up, Archer looked down to see himself bound with steel-filament wire. He was gagged with a face-mask that worked to nullify sound. His binds were attached to hooks expertly secured to both walls. As Charisma approached Jack in his cabin, she wanted to make sure Archer didn't get loose and foul up her plans.

"Hell," Archer muttered, "b***h is good..."

Meanwhile, Tessa and Ginger discussed just how to get themselves on the train.

"Well, the way I figure it," Tessa suggested, "I can perceive and manipulate mental signals. So maybe I can do something with that.”

“I can project my mind, and take control of others’ minds. “ Ginger volunteered.

“So, how are those things gonna help? I’m not a spirit, so I can’t go through the Astral Realm. And reading minds ain’t the same as jumpstarting powers. Is it?” Torres looked at the two for some clarification. Frankly, figuring out superhuman ability mechanics was not his forte.

But Fitz was already calculating in his mind how it could work.

“Actually, it can be. In fact, if she concentrates hard enough, it is. But that’d only be enough to get a few of us to go,” He looked at Cookie for suggestions as to who those few should be.

“Offense…you need to play offense. I’m getting a strong sensation in my eyes, and an even stronger feelin’ in my gut. Your bad guy has a power like Heat Vision or Laser Vision or Darkseid’s Omega Effect or something. And they’re good at fighting. Really good.”

“Okay, so, it’s settled. Pierce, Ivan, Flores and...either Ginger, Nadia or Tessa.”

“Well, obviously, I volunteer me.” Ginger spoke up first.

“I could go.” Tessa raised her hand slightly.

“It ain’t like I got somethin’ better to do.” Nadia reasoned.

“Any suggestions, boys?” Fitz looked at Damien and Mark, who had yet to think of a solution that didn’t include all of them.
“I say we let Ginger go.” Damien finally spoke up, “She’s got that whole Astral Projection thing goin’ on. Even if she gets knocked out, she’s useful, right?”

“Yeah, sounds about right.” Mark agreed.

“Good, Ah was thinkin’ the same thing. So it’s settled. Ginger goes. Now, to figger out just how t’get you-all there.” Fitz began thinking, “Ah got it! Tessa, mind-lock onto Torres. Ginger, you’ll need to…uh…overshadow our friend.”

“Uh, Fitz, I’m not really comfortable with just letting people jump inside me. Y’know, personal space—”

“We don’t have time t’argue, T. Are ya gonna let me work this out or not?” Fitz looked over at the teleporter with a look that said, ‘I sympathize, but I can’t do too much about it.’

So Torres reluctantly agreed. He asked Tessa to go on and get it over with, and to his pleasant surprise, she told him her part had already been done while he was busy worrying about it. As for Ginger, her part had yet to be done.

“A-alright. I’m ready as I’ll ever be. Do your worst.” Torres shuddered at the thought of her consciousness invading him from the inside.

“Be careful what you wish for, T.” And before Torres got the chance to ask just what the hell that meant, her body fell limp, leaving Ivan to catch the empty husk, and her consciousness hit him full force. With the greatest momentum, the purply-pink form constituting her spirit hurled itself into his body. She thrust with all her might to push aside his consciousness to make room for her own. She grabbed onto the mental levers and switches, scooched into the driver’s seat, rammed her fingers into the ignition and turned that sucker on with her own key.

“Ahhh! Ah, F-F-F-F**K!” Torres grabbed his head in pain, and tried to keep his footing as Ginger’s mind tried her hardest to take it away.

The others thought to help him or comfort him, but Cookie cautioned, “I wouldn’t do that if I were you. Possession is a nasty business. She could put an eye out when first grabbing the reins.”

After about thirty seconds of nearly-unequaled mental and physical anguish, she finally let the teleporter gain some semblance of composure. All Ivan could think to do was ask, “Did it work?”

“Put my body down, you damn gorilla! Put it on the bed or something!” That answered Ivan’s question. Ivan quickly did as he was told, and so Fitz decided to go along with the rest of his plan.

“Alright. So, now you’re all comfy in there, Ginger, you and Tessa need to work his mind. Ginger from the inside, Tess from the out. Get brain activity working at the maximum it can go without killin’ him. It might leave him a bit tired, but it’ll produce a similar effect to what Jack can do, so don’t feel bad about tha’.” With that, the two nodded and diligently got to work.

Tessa willed the synapses to circulate double-time, triple-time, until she could perceive them zip-zapping and zigzagging at nearly-electron speeds. His consciousness expanded to the point that he could feel the very disruption of space by the furniture and his friends’ bodies. Meanwhile, Ginger wreaked havoc in Torres’ inner consciousness. His thoughts became her playground until finally she tapped into the part of his mind that held his true potential. She knocked, and banged, and finally, just kicked in the door, unleashing the full force of his power. The house took a tremendous jolt.

“What the hell was that?” Mark and Nadia looked around themselves, panicked.

“Looks like they’re nearly ready,” Cookie replied, steadying herself on the bedpost, “His power combined with Ginger’s power dang-near just pulled us into the Astral Realms!”

“Yer right. Everybody who’s goin’, yer ride onto the train is now boardin’.” With that, Fitz stood aside, and let Flores and Pierce stand beside Torres. Ivan picked Ginger’s body up off the bed.

“Might need this when we get on the train.” Ivan grinned. Ginger rolled Torres’ eyes, and ignored Ivan; with a simple act of will, she invoked Torres’ power to jump them all across space-time far faster than Torres would ever be able to do on his own.
A wide spatial rift announcing their presence, the space-time continuum thrust the five of them onto the train in a heap. Ginger evacuated the teleporter’s consciousness, and re-entered her own body, as the others got up, and got their footing.


“Hell. It’s good to be back home…” Ginger shook her head in relief.

“WHOOO WEE!” Flores jumped up, “That was SOMETHIN’ ELSE! It was like I was HIGH or somethin’! HELL yeah!” He laughed heartily, and slapped his knee with a goofy grin.

“Just who the hell are you?” A female voice interrupted. Charisma.

“Who the hell am I?” Ginger replied, “Who the hell are you?”

“I don’t have time for this. Get the hell out of here!” Charisma didn’t even give anyone the chance to respond before firing off a concussive beam of light, which pierced a hole just inches away from where Ivan stood.

“Oi, watch it, crazy b***h!” Ivan barked, before barreling at the black bombshell to bash her brains in. She didn’t even flinch; she simply fired off another blast, which caught him in the chest, and sent him flying back toward anyone who would be fool enough not to duck.

Flores side-stepped the tumbling Ivan, and took his hand at the optic assassin, with a fist cocked back to deal her a wicked punch. Charisma, however, gladly met his challenge. Somersaulting to meet her foe, she quickly sprang over his head, and used his head as a liftoff to land in the middle of Ginger and Pierce.

Meanwhile, Jack had finally been awakened from his nap by that first loud blast, and now decided that Archer was definitely up to something. He peeked out from the booth that he and Archer shared, and was greeted by the sight of his comrades duking it out with his second booth mate.

“What the hell?” He said to himself.

“Jack, there you are!” Torres teleported past the battling supers to Jack’s booth and nudged Jack back inside.

“What’s going on?” Jack asked, bewildered at the whole situation.

“You mean you didn’t know Charisma was after you?” Torres panted.

“She was after me? She was just sitting with me and Archer a second ago. Wait, where’s Archer? I didn’t see him out—”
“I have to look for him, but right now, we have to get rid of Charisma.” Torres looked out of the booth, and quickly retracted his head, just in time to avoid yet another of Charisma’s optic blasts.

“I’ll be right back.” Jack let out his claws and headed out to do battle with Ms. LeVeaux. He emerged from the booth, and called her out defiantly.

“Hey! Bright Eyes! Over here!” Charisma stopped on a dime, and the others stood still, glad their fearless leader had finally joined the fight, “Yeah, that’s right, I’m talkin’ to you. You came on board this train lookin’ for me, right?”

[Celadon's Penultimate]

“That’s right…” Charisma smirked, “You finally decided to join the fight?”

“Yeah. Maybe I’ll start by poking out those pretty brown eyes of yours.” Jack menaced the optic assassin, protruding claws from his hand.

“I’m taking that to mean that you won’t come quietly?” The assassin feigned disappointment, but then Jack could see the glow of her Laser Vision, and figured she didn’t really care too much that he’d put up a struggle.

“Nice trick. My eyes can do that too…” Jack chuckled to himself, and something seemed to change. Ginger could feel in her spirit that something was very wrong.

“What the—?” Ginger started, but was interrupted by a sudden low snarl. She looked just past Ivan and noticed that the noise had escaped from the throat of the white-haired half-demon. His hair had started to be tossled by invisible winds, his skin aglow. His aura was just barely visible, and his body coursed with nearly tangible power. Charisma took a step back at the otherworldly display, but then stood her ground again, figuring that it must just be a trick, or some kind of bluff.

“You think you’re so tough? Why don’t you and I finish this, without your little friends intervening for you, hm? What do you have to say about that?”

“Eh, look, lady, I wouldn’t—”

“Shut the hell up, you dumb brute!” Charisma hissed hatefully. Ivan narrowed his eyes at her angrily, and decided he’d just let her find out on her own, if she was going to be such a b***h about it. The others eagerly awaited Jack’s answer, or his command to attack her, and finally, he nodded in agreement.

“Yeah. Let’s settle this,” he looked around the train car, “But first, let’s make this a little interesting. How ‘bout we take this train-top? That way, if either one of us gets rid of the other, it’s for good.”

Charisma looked up, and thought about it. He obviously had to be up to something. But she couldn’t simply turn it down; it was, after all keeping him from getting to any of his pesky little friends in the event she got him down. That was, if nothing else, him keeping his word.

So she agreed. With a swift, acrobatic motion, she cartwheeled out the train car window, and ambled up the side, to the top of the train. Jack grinned to himself, and jumped with pure force up to the hatch right above him. Grabbing onto one of the handles with one hand, the other hand opened the hatch to the top of the train.

He tried to help himself up through the hole, but before he made it all the way up, the underhanded assassin kicked him in the face with her shoe, pulled him up through the hatch and tried to toss him over the side.

Fortunately, however, she wasn’t quite strong enough to muscle him off the train, and so Jack forced her onto her back with a hard swiping motion, and quickly tried to jab her in the face with his claws; if that was how she wanted to play it, then he would gladly oblige. She ducked out of the way, and countered with a quick jab of her own. He blocked her jab, punched her in the gut, and as she recoiled, tried to deliver a powerful roundhouse kick to knock her off the train.

But Charisma wouldn’t have it. Her body contorted into an awkward twist to avoid the blow, and then brought her feet up to kick him in the chin, doing an elegant backflip in the same motion. She made sure to take advantage of the opportunity she’d been presented, and bring her feet up to his gut. But Jack’s newly-heightened reflexes allowed him to catch her foot mid-strike, and flip her over on her face, much to her dismay.

Realizing that he was going to be a bit tougher than she thought, she quickly ambled up from her vulnerable position and backflipped a few meters back, so that she could use her best weapon. Her eyes aglow again, she gave off a powerful blast from her eyes. But by now, Jack’s senses seemed to slow down, and in his panic, he leapt up above the blast, forcing air behind him to propel his body toward Charisma. He wouldn’t let her get far enough to do that again.

He landed at her feet, and didn’t waste time getting up; he swept his leg under her in the split second she took to recover from the force of the blast, and caught her by the throat.
 
“You’re not gonna do that again!” He barked, raising his other hand, claws drawn, to her throat. He seemed to fail at intimidating her, however, because her only response was, “Okay.” And in the second she uttered that sarcastic, “Okay”, Jack felt an intensely-growing heat.

He gave a monstrous cry of outrage, recoiling in pain, allowing the assassin to stumble back away from him.

“HEAT VISION?! REALLY?!” Jack growled, patting down his shirt, before being sent back flying, yet again, by an immense blast of light from Charisma’s eyes. Landing harshly on the metal of the rooftop, Jack figured by now that the time to go easy on her was over. Now was the time to do her in.

So he let forth another snarl, and looked up to reveal that his eyes were aglow once more. But this time, it wasn’t for show. Instead of trying to get up close to her again, he decided to play her at her own game; he sent forth a powerful air blast first, and when she dodged that, let off a wicked stream of superhot flames, which were now blue due to his demonic enhancement. She quickly dove to the metal of the train car roof, looking up at him angrily, but this only gave Jack an idea.

With a wicked grin, he decided to let the stream of fire face down toward the rooftop. No way she’d avoid the burn if she had to stand on it.

Meanwhile, in the train car below, the others were wondering just what the hell was going on. The supers and the other passengers complained of the now intensifying heat, but Pierce seemed to be taking it especially hard.

“Does it feel hotter to you-all, all of a sudden?” Pierce was fanning himself.

“Just a little, Petey,” Ivan replied, “Why, mate? You okay?”

“Oh…nothin’. Just feelin’ a bit…sparky.” Pierce continued fanning himself and breathing heavily, but now visible sparks and spiderwebs of electrical power danced across his cheeks and hair.

Flores looked at the electro wide-eyed, “What the hell’s goin’ on with you? Can’t take the heat until Jack gets rid of 'Laser B***h' up there?”

“Eh, not particularly well, no.” Pierce responded, weakly.

“Don’t you understand what’s happening?” Ginger spoke up, stepping forward and taking a look at the electrical currents circulating across Pierce’s body, “A source of electricity is being overheated! He can just turn into electricity, so he’ll be fine, but when his energy is overexcited, he’s likely to blow US all to Hell!”

Realizing the danger that they were all now in, since Jack was, in essence, turning Pierce into a ticking time bomb with the longer he overheated the train, Ginger started looking for some way to cool him off.

As the others scrambled to look for a way to keep Pierce cool down below, Charisma was having a rather hard time of keeping cool herself. The soles of her shoes had nearly melted, much to her unpleasant surprise. In a short while, she would be toast.

“Hell!” the assassin swore, as she tried to keep her balance hip-hopping from one foot to the other in an effort to keep from scorching her tootsies, “You bastard!”

“Oh, that hurt, Charisma,” Jack remarked with a smile, “Never DID know my dad.” But he didn’t let it distract him from generating the intensely-hot fire that his power afforded him for the time being. And just to throw her further off balance, he would toss the occasional fireball in her direction. This was just entertainment, now. She couldn’t even backflip out of the way, because the roof would be too hot to plant her hands… He looked with the utmost satisfaction at the fact that the optic assassin now knew who she was messing with, and wouldn’t dare bother him again after this (if he let her survive).

“I bet you’ll think twice next time before you try to steal me or the Evolutionist’s Stone, huh?” he smirked hatefully. This nearly made the assassin forget about the heat that was scalding her feet.

“What did you say?” she replied, wide-eyed, “The Evolutionist’s Stone? YOU have it? Ha, I don’t think so. It’s just a myth…”
       
“Believe that if you want,” Jack remarked, stopping his fiery assault for a second, “But I have it right here.” He allowed his hands to channel a glow to the stone to give it an ominous air of power.
       
“Well, do I have to use my X-Ray Vision to see it?” Charisma rolled her eyes.
       
“Fine.” Jack looked down at the stone. Maybe he could even convince her to join his cause, if it seemed an appealing-enough deal. So, with that thought, he looked over to a retention pond nearby, and called the water over to the train-roof. It took a few seconds, but it quelled the intense heat of the roof.

“If you try anything, though—”, Jack cautioned.
       
“Of course not!” She assured, “This is much more important. You know, I figured the government had a reason why they wanted you and your Irish friend.” She started to make her way across the rooftop to see the fabled stone up close, but was quickly interrupted by a powerful electrical surge darting across the water.

“You liar!” Charisma hatefully accused, before jumping over Jack’s head to the previous train car; he followed suit, and jumped back to the train car behind theirs.

“No, really, that wasn’t me!” He assured.

“I know it wasn’t YOU, you son of a bastard!” Charisma glared angrily, “It was that electro! You had him stand in position to attack me from below, didn’t you?!”

“No! Look, it had to be an accident!” Jack tried to explain, “I must have hit something electrical when I called the water over!”
       
“Save it!” Charisma hissed, before lunging at him full-force. Her eyes narrowed, and lit up, seeming to glow abnormally hot. He wasn’t sure if she was going to use Laser Vision or Heat Vision; he hoped she hadn’t trained herself somehow to use both. She ran toward him hatefully, unaware that she had no reason to do so, and suddenly was met with a shock.

What she meant to hit Jack as a powerful blast of concussive light, had now been reduced to little more than a momentary glimmer, and then a fizzle, and then nothing.

Her power had been negated. However, despite his demonic nature being more than evident, he seemed less interested now in defeating or even harming her. The Evolutionist’s Stone caught her attention for more than just fame and fortune type reasons, and he could tell.

“Alright, now that I have your attention,” he held her firmly as she struggled to get loose from his grip, “Do you want to tell me why you’re really after me?”

“None of your damn business!”
       
“Try again.” Jack cautioned firmly, letting out claws from one hand again, just in case.
       
“I…I was hired to catch you for information on the Stone. But I had no idea why. I thought you were just a rat, a snitch. Maybe you had information, and your friend had information. I figured that you boosting powers, your friend sensing powers, and the both of you being negators had nothing to do with it.”
       
“So now you’re telling me it does?”
       
“Yeah, it does,” Charisma looked down, now piecing together the facts, “you, your Irish friend, and the Evolutionist’s Stone. They’re forming together some kind of weapon. And they wanted me to deliver one of the tools, personally. Oh, hell, I feel so stupid!” she groaned angrily.
       
“You’re not stupid…” By now, Jack had returned back to normal, “Just…come back down into the train car with me. We can straighten stuff out.”
       
“No, I shouldn’t—”
       
“Yeah, I think you should!” Jack suggested, retracting his claws and pointing forward to the oncoming bridge. The two hastened back into the train car, just in time for the train to pass under the bridge.

[Celadon's Penultimate]

The two landed back in the train car at the same time. Realizing that Charisma hadn't been dealt with, the supers automatically took battle poses and braced for her attack, but Jack quickly stepped from behind her and put up a hand.

"Hold up, you-all. I think she has somethin' to say that we need to hear." Jack nodded at Charisma to spill the beans. The assassin looked at each of them, who still menaced her hatefully, but decided to go on and say what she had to say.

"The government wants Jack, and your Irish friend, Fitz. And the Evolutionist's Stone."

"Yeah. What of it?" Ivan snapped, cracking his knuckles.

"You came here to give 'em what they want, right?" Pierce accused.

"Well, I DID come here for Jack and Fitz at first, but that was before I knew what for. See, I--"

"You mean to tell me, you didn't even know who the hell you were coming after, or why?" Flores interrupted, balling a fist.

"No. I didn't. I figured it was like every other mission I had. No-good supers, with powerful abilities and up to shady tricks. That's usually how it goes." Charisma looked down, a bit ashamed of the mentality she'd adopted when it came to dealing with others of her own kind.

"Oh, really? Are you sure they were all up to no good? Cuz, well, WE ain't. How do you know they were even all bad?" Pierce asked, eyebrow cocked at her weak-sauce explanation-slash-apology.

"Look, I know I'm a good person! How would you feel if you had to go against an Animal-Mimic named VICIOUS? She doesn't sound like a nice--"

"WHAT?!" cried Pierce, Ivan, Jack and Flores simultaneously.

"That was her name! Or at least the one she went by; Her file named her as Lyssa Theron..."

"You helped take in Crazy-Face?!" Ivan narrowed his eyes at Charisma, and cocked back a super-strong fist, "You heartless--!"

"Behave." Jack quickly stepped in front of Ivan's angry fist, and gently pushed it to Ivan's side, "I think there was just a misunderstanding here." He looked over to Charisma, "Y'see, Vicious was one of us. She helped us take down Overlord Trelaine. She's one of the good guys. In fact, one of the best." The others who knew her nodded in agreement.

Charisma looked down at nothing, thinking about all the past fugitives, runaways and supposed thugs and villains she had taken in, or taken out. Had the government hired her under false pretenses, to take down the GOOD guys, instead of the villains like she thought? The idea of being deceived so easily to help the enemy was simply devastating.

"Uh..." She sighed, a bit distressed, "My head hurts, I think I need to do a lot of re-thinking. You mean that hard-faced woman with her...?"

"You saw Kitty, too?" Flores asked.

"She said that was her name, yeah. After she spat on me, that is..." she replied, softly, remembering the event vividly, "So, you mean she's really...? Oh, no."

Jack put his hand to her cheek, and turned her face to his, "What do you mean, 'oh, no'? Where are they, now?"

Charisma avoided his glance as best she could.

"Look at me, Charisma!" He finally got her to face him, "Where are they? And were there others with them?"

"I...I don't know. They could be anywhere by now. But I know that it's with the government. Or one of the Overlords. Probably somebody who had connections with Trelaine. I mean, whoever it was placed the order anonymously, but they made sure to demand the supers' presence as soon as possible. They could be anywhere by now."

Jack looked over to Ginger, "Do you think you could locate them?"

Ginger shrugged, "I don't know what they look like, Jack. Sorry."

Neither did Torres.

"Hell. So...is there any way we could find out where they are?"

"Well, if there's anywhere you can get information, it's Louisiana. I mean, that's why I was headed there, after I caught you." Charisma suggested, "Oh! That reminds me!" She rushed down the car hallway.

"Where are YOU going?" Pierce asked running after her.

"To untie your friend, Archer!"

[Wish]

“No need.” Archer walked into the room that they were in.

Charisma began, eyes wide, “H-h-how did--?”

"I didn't come here to discuss professional secrets" said Archer curtly. Before she could react, he grabbed Charisma by the neck, “I’d like my gun back now.”

“Back off,” coughed Charisma.

Archer loosened his grip. She slowly handed the gun back to Archer. He turned around and walked toward Jack;  Before he could blink, he had gotten the half-demon into a submission hold.

“What the--? What are you doing?” said Jack.

“Don’t take this personally; it’s just business." Archer shrugged, "And speaking of...I see my employers weren’t completely honest when they hired me.”

“What?” Jack asked confused. In response, Archer just exerted more pressure onto his neck.

“Hey, I said don’t move,” Archer's hand shot out for his gun, cobra-quick. He shot at Flores to frighten the others from moving. The bullet skinned Flores' scalp. The bullet made a noticeable exit hole in the train walls. A cool breeze blew in.

“Now let me finish”, Archer continued, “I was hired to come after you. But now I can see my employers weren’t after you. They were after that fancy stone of yours.”

“But--“, Jack began, before Archer pressed the gun muzzle into the back of his neck to shut him up.

“Hey, Electro, weren’t you gonna blitz me?” Pierce narrowed his eyes at Archer, and balled his hands into fists, but knew better than to attack, “That’s right. You’re smart. You’re thinking you shouldn’t attack me since you don’t know what my ability is. But I’m smarter. I know, just like you know, you can't risk it. Not with this wet carpet. Once you turn electric, you'll either shock everyone or short yourself out. It's a lose-lose.”

Pierce started to say something, when there suddenly came an explosion from the train's roof. A ladder dropped from the ceiling and a man jumped down in full SWAT Uniform.

“Hey you, wotcher--”, Ivan was cut off with a quick sucker punch.

"You fu--” Flores lunged for a punch, but missed and hit the window instead. It shattered, glass embedding itself painfully into his arms.

Archer fired a shot, and took aim for another. The man knew better than to hesitate, and his M-16 made it unnecessary to hesitate. Archer and Jack's team would be doing the dodging this time. The hail of bullets tore into everything in the train, narrowly missing everyone, except for Archer, who was grazed in the right arm. The assassin held in a scream.

The SWAT man grabbed Jack and the ladder pulled him up. Archer noticed, and shot after the two. Too late. The man was already halfway back to the helicopter by now.

“Dammit….missed." Archer muttered in annoyance.

“I won't,” said Pierce, who quickly ambled to the roof of the next car; his hand charged, and he let off a blast of bright-flashing electric power.

“Hold it!” Archer called up to the electro.

“What?” Pierce snapped, before turning back around, “Dammit, you made me miss my clear shot.”

“Save it" Archer retorted, "You would have hit your friend, anyway, even if you had any aim.”

“Why don't you shut the hell up?” yelled Pierce, "And what do you care if I hit him, anyhow? Weren't you just tryin' to kill him?"

“Heh, heh, not kill him, just take him in. If he dies, I don't get the bounty...”

Pierce narrowed his eyes at the remark. His body crackled with electricity and he turned toward a new target. He grabbed Archer by the shoulders, sending a large voltage through him. Archer’s face twisted in pain, and he feared his heart would stop.

But Pierce could hear Tessa's voice. This wasn't like him. Although she wasn't around Pierce could tell that was what Tessa would have said. Slowly he stopped, leaving Archer unconscious. Ivan grew his extra arms and flexed; feeling was returning from being thrown back by the explosion.

"Why did we come here for?" Ivan frowned, annoyed.

The rest of the group was in disarray. Flores was recovering from his wounds. The rest of the group was still shocked at what happened. Ginger spoke first.

“This was our fault, me and Cookie. We should’ve known. We helped you keep Charisma from killing Jack, but that created another problem. My sister is clairvoyant but she is not omniscient. Dang, she's always telling me how tricky the future is..."

Flores groaned, “So, now what?”

Ginger rolled her eyes.

“You heard me." Flores continued, "What do we do now? Whose work is this, and where did they take Jack?"

==On The Way to the Government Compound Transport==

“Arrgh,” screamed the man that had attacked the group.

“I’m sorry, sir, but we didn’t come with anesthetics and we didn’t expect that it was you,” said a man that appeared to be a lower ranking officer.

“Well if you want the job done you have to do it yourself,” chuckled the man, “Not that my subordinates didn’t do their jobs. You did your job perfectly. You got intelligence on the group and you, small as you are, you tricked that unsuspecting assassin to carry a bug. Remind me to thank the lab tech that planted the bug into that small gold coin...”

"Heh, heh, your plan was perfect, sir." said the lower officer, "You got rid of Wayne. Then you hired Charisma to take out Jack, so we could get that stone. Brilliant. It would have been ruined by that clairvoyant's meddling, but you had a wildcard up your sleeve. Getting Archer Flegn was a stroke of genius."

"That was almost ruined by that incompetent teleporter of ours," said the pilot.

"Continue," said the man amused by his subordinate's praise.

"But, sir... you still have to capture the power negator”, said the lower officer; the man turned his head slowly, as if to reprimand the officer for what he said. Instead, though, he smiled.

“No problem. They’ll come to me, I know it.” said the man.

“Hahaha", chuckled Ansel Cedric, the cleverly disguised helicopter pilot, "That is just like you, Mr. President.”

The helicopter drew farther into the distance, where the government compound transport plane would be waiting for them when they arrived.

[Celadon's Penultimate]

"Ah, bugger ME, that was embarrassin'." Pierce huffed, running his fingers through his hair, agitated, "I shoulda lit up and--"

"And what?" Ginger retorted, "Took Archer out, along with all of US? There was nothin' you coulda done that idiot didn't already anticipate."

"That don't make it any less frustratin'." Pierce looked off at the empty night sky, "So, uh, Chas, where'd you say this train is headed again?"

"Chas? Hmph, okay." Charisma raised her eyebrow at the nickname, "We're on our way to Louisiana. Probably New Orleans."

"New Orleans?" Ivan spoke up, "Ain't that the hometown of Overlady Cade?"

"Right you are, my apish amigo," Flores clapped Ivan on the back, "The Seductress. She makes me wish I had a girlfriend to cheat on with her..." His hard face turned a smile, a harsh chuckle escaping his lips.

"Yeah...she's somethin', so I hear." Pierce grinned stupidly at the thought, before Ginger punched him in the arm with a glare that quickly reminded him that he already had a girl.

"We ain't even goin' there for that, you nasty..." Ginger interrupted the several sexual imaginings going through the minds of the male supers, "You forgot just that quick that Jack just got abducted? We're headed there to find out where Wayne is, and hopefully how to locate and rescue Jack again. Luckily, I can find him through the Astral Realms, but that won't do us no good if we can't reach him. Torres, do you think--?"

"Oh, HELL no." Torres waved his hands at her as though to flag down a car, "I am NOT letting you do that again. Tessa ain't here this time, so I KNOW it won't go the same. I'm not gonna let you possess me, and that's that."

"Well, maybe it won't take all of that." Charisma got to thinking, "I say we just wait until we reach the train station. From what I can tell, we're already in Louisiana; I think we should just sit here, recuperate from what wounds we've ALREADY got, and just try our best to keep from getting any more."

"I s'pose she's right." Ivan yawned, "'Sides, it's gotta be, like, 2-somethin' in the mornin'."

Ginger looked to Torres, who looked to his watch; 4 a.m. Definitely time to get some sleep. The supers divvied up and found booths to sleep in that hadn't already been destroyed, opened up to a draft or occupied by anyone else. It was a bothered,  disgruntled and uncomfortable sleep, which would soon be interrupted, yet again, by the familiar tone of the xenoglot conductor's voice, saying that the train had boarded in beautiful New Orleans.

[667]

Flores was the first to notice.

"The hell is Damien?" he growled.

They found a neat folded card where the dreamwalker had sat.

It read:

"Sorry about the skullduggery, but I'm sure that if Jack caught me at this he'd completely misconstrue the whole situation. Granted, it looks really, really bad. But you have to trust me on this when I say it's the right thing. I've taken Damien as an apprentice, and together we're going to help you out on our own. He's told me about your quest to the east, and I don't see how I can't help. We'll go into New Orleans, find Ben and Byne and that one F-name woman, and see if we can't clear out Fred Annullin. Lee-Lee and the Big Bossman are in cahoots (sexy cahoots? unsure) and you don't need to fight a two-front war. Don't try to find me; I've got 15 years of experience on any of you and will lose you. PLEASE trust me.
Signed,
Wayne Cobane"

$%$%$%$%$%$%$%$%$%$%$%$%$%$%$%$%$%$%$%$%$%$%$%%$%$%$%$%%$%

Damien and Wayne shoved their way through the raucous streets.

In history books older than he pilfered from the wrecks of Santa Fe, Damien had seen images of the past forever frozen in time. An unshadowed Chicago, a New York that glittered half as brightly but shone twice as much. The landscape of those cities was forever changed by the iron hands of the Warlords. But this city looked exactly as it did before the Event; the Big Easy was eternally so, an untarnished time capsule in an otherwised flattened landscape. There were still street performers--the jugglers and the musicians. There were still vendors and criers. There were still white smiles that split swarthy faces, and rolling laughter that proved as infectious as the Yat Dialect that served as the language of commerce and life and love. The only change was imperceptible--an impossible feat here or there--but the heart beat on.

New Orleans hadn't changed a bit.

Wayne was smiling big now. He smiled often, to be honest, but these past smiles had been sardonic or biting and always a little wistful. They had served to establish the assassin at the top of the dogpile, to unnerve a foe. But now, the smile reached the depths of his eyes--as far as one could tell with those improbable sunglasses shading them from humanity. There were other signs, though, that tipped Damien off to the increasing levity of his--his master, now, he supposed; Damien hadn't given a response whether he'd actually take the position on but strongly suspected that a no would result in Wayne 'firing' him, though one could also imagine that the bald man's affection for the dreamwalker was genuine--Wayne was becoming a lot more open. Strangers got a hello, and a few it even seemed like Wayne recognized.

Damien cocked his head. Was Wayne dropping his R's, slowly but surely? Almost like he'd--

"Good ear," Wayne hummed happily. "New Awlins was the closest thing me and the carnies had to a home. It was a secure gig every year on Fat Tuesday--or as y'all know it, Fat Tuesday--and Christmas and Easter, and that is not something to be overlooked."

"You know what is to be overlooked?" Damien dryly intoned. "KIDNAPPING."

Wayne waved him off with a good-natured hand. "We're approaching the docks."

The city gave way to the Mississippi. A cruise liner larger than the building that Damien had grown up in towered over them like a marble colossus. A mass of humanity poured off the liner, among them a tattooed man in cargo shorts, a shaven man with a huge case, and a skinny, hungry-looking Latina.

Wayne walked up to them with a smile. "Ben! Byne! You!"

Ben calmly handed his bass to Byne without looking and slapped Wayne in the face. Hard.

Wayne's good mood started to decline. "What in the hell, man?"

Ben rose to his full height and jammed his finger in Wayne's face. "We are working with you out of necessity, you sick killer. If you had that f*cking sham with you, I'd have walked right past your pasty white ass. But you don't, and so HELP ME GOD, I feel some kind of compulsion to make the world a better place. Lucky you, that you seem to have a plan. So if you've got any idea of you hijacking the trust that Jack built up with me over years, just stop that in its tracks. Right now, you're the sumbitch who tried to kill me in a cave and broke my bandoneon. Got that, Wayne Cobane?" Ben grabbed his bass back and shoved past the master assassin, still muttering invectives. "A*shole!" he tossed back over his shoulder.

Wayne looked at his retreating back and sighed. He turned to Byne and Francesca. "Anybody else?"

Byne glanced at Francesca and shrugged. "No, he pretty much got it."

Francesca awkwardly shook Wayne's hand. "Francesca Santos. I take it you're Wayne." There was a pregnant silence before she cut in. "I-I think Ben has a place in mind."

Wayne's smile was back to its sardonic self. "Well we'll just let him lead us on his merry chase." His voice grew almost singsongy. "Ooooh BEEEEEEN..." he called.

Byne and Francesca made nice in the rear with Damien while the master assassin gingerly power walked behind the furious Bassist.

[Celadon's Penultimate]

"A'right, so, uh, I'm confused." Ivan stuttered.

"You would be," Flores grunted, "but I'm guessing the others at least have an inkling what I'm talking about."

The hard strongman eyed the others as they walked through the streets, waiting for an answer from any one of them.

"Alright, you caught me," Torres finally piped up, as they reached the outside of a snazzy hotel, Chateau Belle Bourgeois, "Damien was with us on the train."

"What?" Ginger spoke up with a tone of surprise unbefitting her normally moody nature, "What the hell are you talking about? I didn't see him there once."

"I did." Flores replied, "Well, not really. Now, Torres, just tell me how the hell the dreamwalker pulled off the vanishing act."

As they passed through the revolving doors, Torres took a seat in a plush chair of the lobby, as the others crowded around him in a loose circle.

"Well, from what Damien told me over the phone, Wayne called him right after Jack went off on his own. Said that Jack was gonna try to do something stupid, and that you all would try something even stupider to stop him. So he gave the dreamwalker my number and told him to call me."

"Then what?" Ivan blinked, trying to piece things together.

"I got the call, and Damien said I would be needed as a transport, but that he would need to ignore me when he came along. I asked him just what the hell that meant, but figured out when the teleport went down. He was stooping down behind us when we teleported; he tried to look like he was tying his shoe, but he was obviously using some assassin gadget to make himself invisible, so he could invisibly hitch a ride."

"I knew it!" Flores blurted, before realizing just how loud he had been, and returning to normal tone, "I knew that somebody else was there! When Charisma attacked us, I bumped into somebody who wasn't Ivan, or Pierce, or Ginger or you. I knew it was him by that damn greasy hair on his head when we collided; and so now the li'l sneak is off somewhere with Wayne?"

"Yeah, sounds like it." Torres shrugged, "I'd 'port off to find him, but, y'know, the unnecessary strain. And not having the slightest clue where he is right now."

"That AND the fact that we're in this lovely hotel," Charisma yawned, hoping the others got the drift, "not to mention it being damn-near 4:30 am? I'm really not in the mood to go on any further."

"Sounds about right. I need to juice up, myself." Pierce agreed, touching a nearby outlet, causing the table lamp that it fed to short-circuit.

"Any o' you got any money?" Ivan asked, turning out his pockets.

"No, I left my purse back in the Astral Realm, dummy." Ginger scowled.

"I left mine back at home with my other gun." Charisma chuckled with a hint of sleep in her voice.

After a few more sarcastic comments from his comrades, Ivan walked over to the desk, and asked the clerk how much a room costs.

"For your little posse over there? That'd be about 750 per night. Provided you all get separate rooms."

"We look like we can afford that many separate rooms?" Ivan huffed, annoyed.

"Hm." The clerk cringed with a tinge of sarcasm in his face, "Well, if you can scooch all your boys into a room, and all your girls into a room, then maybe I can get you two for 175."

"Thanks, bro."

"No prob, chief." The clerk grabbed the two keys for rooms which were nearest one another, 304 and 306, and tossed them to the bruiser, "you got your 175?"

Ivan patted his pockets, as though to search for the wallet he left back in Odessa. He looked back to the others, who made fake innocent faces and shrugging gestures to tease him further.

"Sh*t. Man, you got a way I can pay you elsewise?" he pleaded, dismayed.

"Hm..."

"Whoa, hey, I ain't into anything like THAT!" Ivan recoiled, noticing the clerk eyeing him with a little TOO much attention to his face, chest and arms.

"Oh, no, nothing like that. You're a stud, but I've got one of my own; a shapeshifter, too, so I could have you without even havin' you...anyways, I was just thinking that you could offer a friend of mine some help in the kitchen cleanin' up dishes." The clerk leaned forward, as though to say 'take it or leave it.'

"Fine. First thing tomorrow, we help your friend in the kitchen with dishes." Ivan held out a hand and the clerk shook it, marveling under his breath at how big the bruiser's hands were and how strong his grip was.

Retracting his hand with a bit of discomfort, he turned back to his comrades and told them the deal that had been settled. After getting a few choice words from Ginger and Flores, they filed into the elevator and made their way to their rooms for the night.

[Celadon's Penultimate]

"Alright, now, everybody packed?" Cookie called at the threshold at the door, as Fitz held the door.

"Yep. And thanks for those little goodies, Cookie." Tessa walked downstairs with a wheeled luggage Cookie had laying around, "I lost my brush all the way back when we first left Cabral."

"You're welcome, darlin', now where's Mark?" Cookie responded, looking to either side of her.

Mark soon answered her question, lugging two stuffed-to-the brim wheeled luggages, and a full backpack. The three looked at him as he descended, and thought to help him out, but he held his hands out to let them know he was okay.

"Got it all." He chuckled weakly, mustering a smile to mask the agony.

"Uh, ya don't need all tha'; ya know tha', right?" Fitz laughed.

"Whaddya mean?" Mark grunted, "This luggage is for my clothes; this one is for my shoes; and the backpack is just some stuff I picked up last night for my hair...jeez, I know not to go overboard."

"You do more to your hair than my sister Nina..." Nadia chuckled, gently easing him aside so she could make her way down the stairs.

"So? Some of us DON'T like split ends..." Mark retorted, "and besides, what's with you, only taking that backpack?"

"I don't need much to survive." Nadia responded, "Just a couple changes of clothes and underwear, the stuff Cookie got me and a couple CD's. And my hair ties."

"I wish I could tie all this mess up," Cookie laughed, "but, anyways, I think it's about time to get going. The train will be a little late leaving, but not by much."

"Okay. So, we're going looking after Damien, too?" Mark asked, running his hand close to his hair, before remembering the instructions on the gel container, and putting it back to his side.

"No, he's just fine. You know, for a spirit medium, you don't talk to them much, do you?"

"Meh", Mark replied, "I mostly just call 'em up when I'm in need. Feels kinda creepy talkin' to people that are, y'know, dead." A door upstairs slammed abruptly after he made the statement, and so he quickly added in the stairwell's direction, "No offense, heh."

The five were on their way out the door to the train station, when all of a sudden, Cookie stopped in her tracks.

"Wait! WAIT! Wait a minute!" she called out suddenly, "Come back inside, and turn on the TV."

"What, did you have a vision or something?" Nadia asked.

"Hush, girl, and turn on the TV, quick, before we miss it!" Cookie rushed past the others and hurried up to the TV, taking a seat on the arm of a chair while she fished for the remote. She flicked it to the first news station she could find, and called the others to see what there was to be said.

"Good evening, I'm Tasha Washington."the anchorwoman said.

"And I'm Brandon Byers. Tonight we come to you with horrific news. The mysterious Overlord of Indiana, known simply as The Mover, seems to be in a particularly bad mood. Reports have just been filed by unknown sources, perhaps his rival Overlady Ella Camphrey, or the DeMonte Sisters. Since the fall of Overlord Caleb Trelaine, riots are becoming more and more common in The Mover's parts, and as a show of his power, he is threatening not only the New York territory, but Illinois and Michigan as well. Michigan is said to have defenses mounted, but as far as Illinois and the New York territory, they feel as though offense will prove the best defense. More at 11pm. On another note--"

Cookie clicked off the TV. Tessa, Fitz, Nadia and Mark looked at one another, slack-jawed, and Cookie nodded her head at them sagely.

"Mhm. I knew it. I knew we were on the verge of war. And it's gonna be anything but civil." Cookie got her things up again, "C'mon, y'all, we got to go. NOW."

"Where? We takin' the train to Indiana, now?" Mark asked.

"Nope, still headed to New Orleans." Cookie got her house keys again and held the door open for the others to exit.

[Celadon's Penultimate]

When the five finally arrived in New Orleans, they were treated to a sight that the others had yet to experience, what with it being 4 am at the time. 4pm was a much lovelier time of day.

"Oh, Lawd, so this is New Orleans? Good golly, Ms. Molly, it's lovely." Cookie smiled, looking to either side of her as though to satiate her dead sense of mortal sight.

The other four looked at her, eyebrows raised.

"Who's Molly?" Mark chuckled.

"Hush, boy, and look around." Cookie laughed pleasantly, "We are in New Orleans, with all these lovely folks. See these street entertainers, with their fancy footwork and clever card tricks? Goodness, it all looks so tempting..."

Cookie sat her things next to Mark and hurried up to the crowd that had gathered at the base of the platform. In the middle of them, a young handsome black man with a black earring and a devilish grin. He stood at a fold-down table set with three cards, each folded in half to form a tent shape.

"Awright y'all, you know the game. Pick the jack, I pay you back." His laugh was smooth and hearty, like him, "Now, who's up first?"

"Ooh. I love games of chance." Cookie rubbed her hands together excitedly. The handsome dealer smiled and looked down as he rearranged the cards.

"You sho' dawlin? It might not be yo' game if it's sight you missin'." he looked over Cookie's shoulder (who thought it unwise now to reveal her clairvoyant talent), and caught sight of Tessa laughing with Nadia and snapping pictures, "Lawdamercy. Tha's a fine piece o' white girl. Hey, Bawbie doll! Why don't you get yo lovely self on ova hea!"

Nadia, Fitz and Mark looked at Tessa, waiting for a snarky response to the black man's remark. None. Instead, it seemed Tessa was far too busy eying his handsome features. Entrancing eyes, deep mahogany skin, neatly cut goatee and a smile that reminded her of the first time she met Pierce. Without a second thought, Tessa had made her way from in the midst of Nadia, Mark and Fitz, and next to Cookie, among the other bidders.

"You...wanted me?" Tessa asked with a smile.

"Yea. I want you. But first, I wanna see how you play this game." He made no bones about his attraction toward her. He knew he couldn't hide the smile she brought to his face, and so he made no effort, "You know what to do, right?"

"Sure, it's simple. Just pick the card, right?"

"Yea, just pick J." He laughed to his boys, finding it all the funnier because the newcomers didn't get it.

"What's so funny?"

"Haha, nothin'." the black man got his thoughts together and began to shuffle the cards. He shuffled them with dexterous hands, barely taking his eyes off of the blonde telepath, "So, what bring you all the way to our humble city? You got somebody you lookin' fo' in p'ticular?"

"Yeah," Tessa smirked, "a boyfriend."

"Oh, damn, shawty!" He almost dropped the centermost card, "It's like that? Shoot, I shoulda known you had a man."

"No way you could've known."

"I don't s'pose that's just a way to get me off your trail?" He asked, half-joking.

"Nope. Name's Pierce. Like, as in 'stab'." Tessa folded her arms, not losing her coy smile.

"Oh, hell, he don't even sound nice. Well, in case he don't work out, li'l mama, look me up. I'm Marcus. My boys call me Lucky, but you can call me Jay."

"Jay?"

"My last name, Jackson, dawlin'. Speakin' o' names, you got one?"

"Tessa."

"Hm...got a ring to it. But, uh, what Pierce call you?" Marcus was truly enjoying their exchange.

"Mandy." Tessa smiled, thinking of when he first gave her that nickname, "For my last name, Mand."

"Sound nice on you, Bawbie doll," he stopped finally stopping his shuffle, "So, uh, gon' pick one, Mandy."

The two met glances; Tessa's defiant determination met Marcus's unshaken cockiness.

"Uh, that one." Tessa fingered the one in the middle (sure her mind-reading prowess had not failed her), making the handsome Marcus smile even wider.

"You sho'?" he grinned, reaching down slowly, as though to give her the chance to change her mind.

"Yep. Turn it over." Tessa smiled deviously. And that he did.

"Queen, baby doll. Sorry." Marcus smiled at the slack-jawed, dumbfounded telepath, "Now what I get in return?"

"Uh, I don't...have any money." She searched her pockets for the wallet she left with Mark and Nadia.

"Oh, that's fine," Marcus grinned, pleased with Tessa's predicament, "Next time I see you, you owe me a kiss."

Cookie spoke up finally, "Dang. You was right, Marcus. I didn't want none of that. And the way you lost, Tessa? Just nasty. C'mon, let's go." Cookie took the blonde telepath by the hand and motioned back to Nadia, Mark and Fitz, "Betcha next time you won't deal with those shady no-good folks...I tried to tell ya. Crooks, every one of 'em."

Marcus watched them leave, and then turned back to the crowd, "Awright, who next?"  

[667]

Cookie, Mark, Nadia, and Tessa, caught up in their self-induced drama, squabbled right by the run-down lodgings that Wayne, Damien, Francesca, Ben, and Byne were in.

It was, to stretch the word to its most positive, a dump. What wasn't falling off the walls was already on the floor, the ceiling was cratered like the moon, and the bed--well. The bed smelled like bad decisions.

"What smells?" asked Francesca, wrinkling her small nose.

Damien dryly commented to nobody in particular. "I am sleeping...on the floor."

Ben grimaced at a scrabbling noise, angled his upright accordingly, and hit a tritone right at the wooden slats that comprised the floor. The death squeals of numberless vermin wafted up, followed by a smell much, much worse than the bed.

Damien dispassionately noted, "I am sleeping on the wall."

Wayne clapped his hands together and said, "It's only temporary. After today, we're going to hit the road. Head east. Head for Fred Anullin."

Ben stiffened. If he'd had hair, it would be bristling. "We were hoping to deal with Lee-Lee Cade. Or you know what, actually join up with Jack Ryder again. I disagree with the guy"--he turned around and examined the wall--"but at least he's never tried to kill me."

Wayne winced and didn't know why. "Jack is...Jack's doing his own thing. Last I saw him, he was headed East. I imagine he skipped out on you-all, too, Damien."

Damien breathed in to explain, but Francesca and the married death and funk-fumes cut him off. "This Jack won't be needed for what we want to do. I've been working my whole life under the radar. Even having 4 other people 'helping me out' is making me nervous. And we really couldn't afford a...cleaner room?"

Byne wasn't bothered by the disgustingness of the room; he had the perspective of mustard gas and unstandability is relative. "Well, of course we could have but that would have been too easy. In all seriousness, though, I'd say we have a pretty good group--nice balance of powers and skills. We should be able to do whatever we put our minds to. Only we can stop us now."

Wayne snorted. It was a reflex. "Look, Byne, I've been in groups WAY more prepared than this, and we fell apart like chaff. What makes us special?"

Byne simply said, "Hype." When nobody got it, he explained. "Every Overlord is terrified of us. Wayne, the party you had back in Santa Fe was huge, right? Like 13, 14 guys? All of them will be expecting this massive assault on their base, this giant war. We don't have to do that, or anything like that." He leaned back, self-satisfied in the shrine of filth. "Does the word 'bloodless coup' mean anything to you gentlemen?"

Wayne said, "I like it."

Ben said, "I like it a lot."

Francesca turned from the back of the TV. "While you were doing your Sun Tzu impression, I got the box working." She stepped away and struck the top cooly. Like a charm, it popped on--a little purple-green around the edges, but otherwise no glitches. A woman was on; pretty, like all newscasters. Ben started a bit when he realized it was the first moving picture he'd seen in 4 months. She was talking serious. Damien turned the sound up.

"brrrzzzuu Undocumented reports that the 'heroes' are in New Orleans are streaming in. Some feel as though they're a postive presence. But the NOPD chief, Christopher Southwood, had something different to say."

A man, now. Hispanic, but freckled. Potential for levity in his face constantly buried beneath consternation.

"These heroes are well and good in an oppressive situation, like Santa Fe. But Lee-Lee Cade barely touches New Orleans; a lot of the kids don't even think we're even in anyone's territory. We're very free here in the Big Easy. But when Overlord Cade finds out that there are revolutionaries and regime-breakers in a city she may have forgotten? There will be blood in the streets and new slate in the graveyards and it will be on THEIR heads."

Chief Southwood turned and looked into the unblinking lens.

"I urge them to leave. You carry trouble. At the worst, you are a menace to us. At the best, a threat."

Wayne turned it off for all of them. It was very quiet in the hovel.

Ben spoke and broke the silence. "Get some sleep. We head east in the morning."

[Celadon's Penultimate]

Meanwhile, as the supers had yet to entirely congregate, the Overlady of the land was busy laying down plans. It had been a while since she had spoken with her loyal ally Fred Annullin on the video conference monitor, and now was definitely a better time than ever.

"Hey, Lee-Lee, long time, no see..." Overlord Anullin chuckled.

"Hey, yourself, Freddie. I doubt that all this time apart has you just thinking about SEEIN' me." The Seductress giggled.

"Hm..." His smile slightly faded, "Y'know, I'd like to chat, Lee-Lee, but I think we have bigger matters on our hands."

"Oh, really? Such as?"

"You should know. Invaders. People feeling like they can just barge in and take over your territory. Same is happening here that's going on down there. It's even getting a rise out of Ella in Chicago and The Mover."

"Hell, that COULD be a bother. But, I can't say it's been catchin' my attention much, though. I've been too busy with, uh, charming Liam, athletic Rodrigo, sexy artist Darian, very WELL-endowed Greg..."

"Four now? Hell, I hope not all at once..."

"Haha, well, there was that one time..."

"OKAY! Too much information. Anyways. I was thinking maybe we'd exchange info from our psychics. Y'know, Layla's feeling especially sensitive as of late, I'm sure you'll get something you can use. I mean--"

"Hmph. I ain't in the mood for calamity an' woe. Hell, psychics are so dismal and dreary. I think I'll just stick with my security..." Looking back at the two handsome, well-muscled bodyguards in tank-tops who stood at the door of her bedroom (one was invulnerable to harm, and the other was incredibly strong and durable), and added, "my way is much more fun, if nothin' more'n sexy as hell."

That got another laugh out of Fred, "Yeah, I suppose being surrounded by men all day IS more your strongsuit."

"Well, o'course. But, now you mention it, I probably should do somethin' about these here newcomers."

Annullin's face turned turned in confusion, "Huh? You're actually gonna attack them?"

"Oh, no, no, no..." Lisa-Lee rolled her eyes, laughing at the thought of any plan other than trying to solve things non-violently, "I mean invite them here."

"...What?" Overlord Annullin picked his jaw up off his lap, "Why in thee HELL would you invite people to your house that mean you harm?"

Lisa-Lee shrugged, "Southern hospitality, I s'pose."

"That, and the fact that their ranks are made up of mostly men, a few of whom match your idea of a steamy tryst..."

"Freddie!"

"Haha, you know I'm right."

The two Southern sovereigns laughed at that. He WAS right. Lisa-Lee Cade was known far and wide for three things: for her awe-striking beauty, her gregarious social life, and her appetite for men. In fact, it was how she and Fred met. At some dull and gray meeting of allied Overlords, she and he killed time in the supply closet as the others droned on about issues that neither of them cared about. What started out as casual sex, had ended up in a short-lived relationship and finally a mutual friendship, an understanding between the two of them which was much deeper than could be established by any stuffy old meeting of the minds. With that thought in mind, the two of them decided at the same time that it was about time they get some rest.

"Well, Lisa-Lee, I think it's about time we get off this here video-conference, teleprompter, telepresence, uh, thing. 'Night."

"Haha, g'night, Freddie." the two clicked off their monitors at the same time, and Lisa-Lee called in her right-hand.

"Yeah?"

"I just got off the monitor with Freddie, so d'ya think you could tell the servants downstairs to make me midnight snack? Y'know, hot cocoa with a little milk, graham crackers and maybe some extra-puffy marshmallows? I'm kinda in a mood for sweets."

"Gotcha." the brunette smiled.

"Thanks s'much, Bella. I'd get it myself, but--"

"No worries, Lee-Lee, I'm on it." Bellissima Gianotta had no need for an explanation; simple as the task was, she knew that her job as right-hand and best friend to the Overlady came before any account of laziness or tiredness on her part (or on Lisa-Lee's). She rushed down the hall and downstairs to do as she was asked, and that was that.

[Celadon's Penultimate]

=Government Compound==

Jack slowly opened his eyes and blinked twice. Turning to either side, he cursed under his breath. Four gray concrete walls, interrupted only by a very thick metal door with a metal-barred window. He lay on a less-than-comfortable bed adjoined to the wall, and looked around to discover he had no shoes. He looked up and shielded his eyes from the light shed by the hanging lamp (even though it was fairly dim, his eyes were still highly sensitive).

"Hey!" A voice called just above a whisper. Jack perked up at the unfamiliar voice, but hesitated to answer until it called again, "Hey!"  He pushed himself weakly from the bed and shuffled up to the door, taking caution not to put his face too close.

"What?" He answered.

"Do you know why you're here?"

"How in hell would I know that?" Jack snapped.

"They didn't tell you? They usually tell you, even if it's just to get on your nerves." the voice responded, "Well, in case it didn't catch your attention, you're famous. They haven't stopped discussing you since you got here."

"What have they been saying?" Jack asked, now thinking up more questions than were being answered.

"Saying you were arrested for selling rock, and something about evolution." the voice replied, "Hey, you wouldn't happen to know anything about the, uh, Evolutionist's Stone, would you?"

"I don't know if I should say."

"What could it hurt?" the voice coaxed, hoping for something juicy.

With a sigh, Jack hesitantly responded, "Okay. It all started in a little area in Arizona..." his tale continued for a good five minutes, stopping and starting as the guards passed by numerous times (and leaving out the fact that it was a fraud), until finally he got to the point that he did, indeed, possess the Evolutionist's Stone.

"Holy crap. You mean it's for real?"

"Very." Jack chuckled at the voice's amazement, "Hey, uh, you got a name?"

"Basera. Gabe Basera." the voice finally had a name, causing Jack to give a sigh. If the name wasn't fake, he was making headway.

"Well, I'm Jack Ryder. Uh, say, you got a power?"

"Uh, yeah, but it won't do you any good here. The people holdin' us programmed our rooms to neutralize our powers. Unless you can keep from having your powers neutralized, you're boned." Gabe chuckled, "Believe me, I've already tried."

Jack cursed again, "Well, do you at least know where we are?"

"Nope. They did well not to leak any info; I think it's in their training. Oh, wait, they're--"

"Well, well, well." A familiar voice chimed in, still out of Jack's sight range, "Talking about us, are you? Interesting, I didn't think a power-booster and a walking disease would hit it off; it's why I put you two in adjacent cells. But, since you have, I suppose now's as good a time as any to take you to meet Delia." The shapeshifter Alex opened Jack's cell door and motioned for two guards to grapple with him, and take him to the interrogation just down the hall. Alex at the lead, the two guards shuttled Jack past berserkers, superspeeders, voice mimics, shapeshifters and numerous other superhumans with capabilities he had never even seen before, around numerous corners, and down a long hall, until they reached a room with a door marked, simply, INTERROGATION.

A hand on the other side opened the door and the guards dragged Jack, kicking hard and resisting to the best of his ability, to sit at the metal table in the center of the room. They sat him down, and stepped behind his chair, at the ready in case he decided not to cooperate. Alex decided he would begin.

"Hi there. Long time, no see. Feelin' comfy?"

"Screw you." a hard slap to the side of the face by Alex.

"Stupid, you don't have rights! Let's try this again. Maybe a bit more direct...Where's the Stone?"

Silence.

"Where is it?"

Silence.

"Where is--"

"You really think he'll answer you like that? Get real, Ansel." Delia Drummond. The interrogator stood at a poised 5'8, brown hair tied back in a bun with one of her pencils, brown eyes glittering behind glasses held in place with a single pointer finger.

"Ugh, I hate when you sneak up on me like that...sneaky b*tch. Fine, do it your way. And the name's ALEX." Alex walked past her, glaring at her as the guards followed him out.

"Okay, now that the shapeshifter's gone, let's get down to business." She clutched her clipboard tightly, "This won't take long. My power, Truth Inducing, is very simple; I ask a question, and you'll feel the sudden urge to answer. Understand? If the answer is in your capacity, it'll come out. And just in case you can resist my effects, my assistant here will be able to sense if you manage to utter a lie. Okay? Okay. Now, let's begin...what is your name?"

Jack shut his eyes as hard as he could and resisted the impulse to blurt out his name, all to no avail, "J-J-J-Jack Ryder."

"And your age?"

"21."

"Race?"

"Half-white..." Jack responded, though not with much surety.

"Half-white? You look pretty white to me; what's the other half?" Delia replied quizzically, not thinking it important enough to warrant use of her ability, "Ugh, never mind. What are your connections? Gang? Overlord? Rebel?"

"R-r-rebel."

"And do you have the Evolutionist's Stone on you?" she narrowed her eyes.

"No...I hid it."

Delia raised an eyebrow, "Hmph. Perhaps you're not dumb as you look after all...Though it doesn't stop me from figuring out where it is. Where is it?"

"I gave it to a friend to hide it for me."

"Who?"

"Said his name was Guy B. Zera."

"Guy B. Zera?" Delia looked over her shoulder and neither lie detector detected a hint of fallacy. Jack's distorted memory of the name he heard had saved him, "I'll have to see if we have any records on a guy with that name. I...I don't think I have anymore questions lined up."

"You mean I'm free to go?" Jack asked, hopefully, eliciting a laugh from Ms. Drummond.

"Oh-ho-ho, Heavens no." She pushed her glasses up with a finger again, "I'm just finished with MY interrogation. But, you know, in these kinds of situations you refer to as, uh, 'Good cop, Bad cop'."

"That's right, Ms. Drummond." Alex interrupted, abruptly poking his head in with a wicked smile, "And just in case you were wondering, Ace, I'm Mr. Bad Cop."

Delia walked past Alex as he had done just ten minutes prior, with the same icy glare.

"Now," Alex grinned wickedly, "Before we start, I want you two to hold him down so I can perform my precautionary measures."

The two superhumans, one male, one female, each took an arm and restrained him to the best of their power while the shapeshifter pulled two familiar objects from opposite pockets. Was he dabbing a stamp in an inkpad?

"What are you doing?" Jack exclaimed, looking back over his shoulders, panicked.

"I have an idea..." Alex's smile only grew wider.

[Wish]

“Now, be nice to our guest….” said a man that walked into the room.

Alex and Deliah turned around and did a salute, “Sir”

The man took a chair and sat down facing the half demon.

“Hello, Jack. My name is Mr. Masterson.,” said the man

Jack defiantly didn’t answer not wanting to give anything for this man to exploit.

“You look just like your father,” said Mr. Masterson.

Jack’s expression remained  unchanged not wanting to give up anything to the man.

“He used to be one of our best…………..that is if you wanted to know,” said the president calmly increasing his inflection at the end.

“Of course he kept a lot of secrets from us, especially about you.”, continued Mr. Masterson.

“But I digress…..Let’s continue your discussion that you had with my subordinates. Now I want you to answer me this. Is the stone you have real?”

“Why should I tell you, you beat up my friends, kidnapped me, threatened us,” ranted Jack.

“The man calmly waited until Jack’s rant ended looking at his watch the whole time. The immortal could wait…..he had all the time in the world.

After Jack tired himself out talking, the man said “Finished?”---not sarcastically but in a way the calm tone ticked off Jack even more.

“I’m a reasonable man. I have no reason to kill you, and a very good reason to keep you alive. The answer of this
question happens to be extremely important and here’s why.”

*pulls out several stones*

They were a different color from Jack’s and each had different shapes.

Jack was surprised.

“You aren’t the only one with a ‘stone’. I’ve acquired several so-called stones.”

“And judging from what you said to Gabe it seems that you don’t know the whole story either and are just keeping a
façade.”, continued the president.

Jack suddenly felt like he wanted to kick himself for talking to an enemy.

“I’ve live for a long time, Jack and if you want to keep making mistakes like that you will die. I know because I have “died” several times over.,” said the president in a surprisingly sincere tone.

“Mr. Ryder, come work for me. With your skills and my vast information network we can find the real stone or stones.”

“Never,” said Jack

“Hahahahaha,” started the president creeping out Jack.

The president’s subordinates just smiled, the president was amused. It was very hard to amuse the president, so much that it was a sort of a fun inside game to bet whether the president would laugh that day or not. (Currently Deliah was winning.)

Mr. Masterson motioned for one of his men to bring him a portfolio.

He slid it across the table to Jack.

Jack looked at the portfolio then said “Does it look like I can open that.”

*Slap*Alex took pleasure dealing out the abuse to their special guest.

The president motioned to Alex and he begrudgingly started to free Jack.

Alex released Jack but kept a gun behind him and made it a point to nudge Jack very hard almost as if intending to break his bones.

Surprised by the gesture, Jack’s upper body slammed onto the table.

“You can open it now,” said Mr. Masterson not changing his tone.

Jack opened the portfolio with a loud rip making it his business to try and stick it to his captors

Then he grabbed a picture and took a glance at it…his expression slowly changed.

“You know this person.” said the president rhetorically.

Jack begrudgingly nodded tossing the picture into the middle of the table, “What about it? This person is dead.”

“What if I told you that I know for a fact that this person is still alive….and what if I could locate this person right now.”

“Would you change your mind about working for me?”

Jack’s will wavered…the man had him. It was like he knew everything and was just playing with this emotions.

The man in front of him was not the good cop nor the bad cop. The only way to describe him was the dangerous cop.

Mr. Masterson continued his pokerface and Jack didn’t know how to respond.

So Jack said, “Let me think about it.”

[Celadon's Penultimate]

==Louisiana==

Lisa-Lee had just had her dinner, and her dessert, and now it was time for her midnight snack.

Heated moaning could be heard from down the hall, and even downstairs, and so every servant knew that Greg was visiting with the Overlady. The Seductress squeezed Greg's powerful biceps, holding on hard as she could, as he rocked her world. She could barely form a sentence, and when she did manage to utter anything, they were things one expected to hear in a pornographic movie.

"You like that?" Greg coaxed, pacing himself in relation to her pleasured faces.

Her voice muffled, in an effort to stifle the moan Greg wanted so badly to hear.

"You want it harder?" Greg offered, giving a couple of thrusts to test her response.

"Aw, c'mon, baby, just say my name..." He began kissing on her neck, hoping it would tip her pleasure over the edge. He leaned in closer, not losing a beat in his stroke, and whispered, "If you want me to go faster...or harder...just say my name."

He resumed kissing her on every place he knew got her hot (except the one place that was already occupied elsewise...) and pulling out every other trick he had been picking up since the age of thirteen, until...a powerful muscle spasm. Not from him, from her. Every muscle, which up to this point, had been aching with pure pleasure, finally gave way to primal ecstasy. She had lost grip on his sweating biceps, and now had wrapped her arms around him, holding on for dear life, and hoping her ability wouldn't kick in.

Just as the thought entered her mind, the same feeling hit him. Every muscle tensed. He stifled a moan that would have betrayed his masculine reputation, and pulled Lisa-Lee closer to him, kissing her again, more gingerly now. A few more writhing thrusts of his hips, and then he lifted himself up and turned to face the lady that had the pleasure to call him paramour.

He took a second to take in what had just happened. He had to catch his breath, which was not easy when the smell of sex wafted in the air. The thought of sex pleased him greatly, especially with such an amazing woman, and so as he contemplated in his sexual silence (running his hands over the scratches she left on his back), a grin crept across his face.

"What's funny?" The Seductress asked, hoping to know what was on her lover's mind.

"Haha, nothin'. Just thinkin' about you. An' me."

"What about us?"

"Well, that's the thing...Lisa-Lee, is there an 'us'?" Greg asked with a smile, "I mean, I can't really imagine lettin' anybody else enjoy that..."

Lisa-Lee brushed a tress of golden-blonde from over her face, "Well, whaddya mean? O'course there's an us." She stood up, taking the sheets up around her and leaving Greg lying there, naked and vulnerable as he now felt.

He got up and put a towel around his waist, "Well, I was thinkin', y'know, maybe we could be more...exclu--" Lisa-Lee turned around, and he hesitantly finished the word, "exclusive."

"Why in thee HELL would either of us wanna do a thing like that? I like you, Greg, but--"

"Like? Izzat all you feel fer me? Like? Well, maybe I want more from you. I don't wanna see anybody else, and I don't want YOU t'see anybody else."

"It ain't up to you, Greg. I decide who I'm with. I decide if I'm with ANYBODY, includin' you."

Greg paused, taken aback by what it seemed she was saying, "W-wh...what are you sayin'?"

"I dunno. Maybe it's best we, uh...spend some time apart. You're gettin' too clingy, and you know I need my space."

Greg approached her, attempting to put his hands around her waist, and she moved away. It was decided; she didn't feel as close to him now as she had, even a few minutes ago. Realizing that, he dropped the towel, began gathering his clothes off the floor in a huff, and (after putting his clothes and his glasses back on, of course), stormed out of her bedroom, without so much as a goodbye. As he exited, Bellissima entered, and asked with the utmost concern, "What's wrong with him?"

"He's bein' a total MAN..." Lisa-Lee pouted.

"Meaning?"

"Hell, he wants me all to himself. And he knows I don't like bein' tied down..."

An awkward silence...

"So...I guess this means you're NOT inviting him to your birthday party tomorrow?" Bella looked through her guest list, as though to find his name and cross it off.

"No! I'm not! He is not invited, at all, and I hope he rots in MAN HELL..."

"Lisa-Lee..."

"I am serious. In fact, to show him I don't NEED him, why not send those, uh, newcomers an invitation to my birthday bash? I'm sure they'd like to see my house and talk business with me anyways..."

"Talk business?" Bella raised an eyebrow.

"You know what the hell I mean." Lisa-Lee groaned, "I need people to talk to BESIDES him...I might even let one of THEM be my date instead...maybe the one with the crew-cut."

"Okey-dokey... I'll make the arrangements."

In about an hour, Ivan Fisk received a phone call at the hotel where he was temporarily staying with his other comrades.

"'Ello?"

"Uh, yes, this is Bellissima Gianotta. I have a message directly from the Overlady of this territory, Lisa-Lee Cade."

Through the goofy smile that now crossed his face at the mention of the lovely Overlady, he tried to maintain a professional demeanor as he and Bella carried on about a good five minutes. Flores and Pierce watched the exchange until, finally, he hung up the phone. The two approached Ivan and Pierce asked what was going on.

"Well, I'd never believe it if I ain't hear it myself." Ivan chuckled.

"What?! What, man?! What?!" Flores grabbed him by either shoulder, and was now physically shaking him.

With a grin, he replied simply to Flores, Pierce, Cookie and the other supers, "Start lookin' for yer best clothes, boys and girls. We're goin' to a party tomorrow."

[Celadon's Penultimate]

And that they did. The supers got into their best duds (which had been conveniently considered by Cookie prior to leaving) and met their ride at the front of the hotel.

In thirty minutes, they would arrive at the most stunning southern manse they had ever laid eyes on. A lovely, three-story mansion, painted white and decorated in all sorts of lovely greenery and flowers, and punctuated tastefully with the occasional statue or fountain. The place even seemed large with all of the partiers who occupied it; in fact, it was perhaps the number of people that made it seem so large. As the supers approached, they were met with the sight of a tall, mean-looking fellow with a clipboard and a pencil above his ear.

"Names?" He inquired with the least emotion he could muster.

Ivan stepped forward and gave him their names.

"Uh...you're not on here. None of you."

Angry glares from everyone except Cookie, who instead menaced the moth that flitted just shy of him.

"Eh, whaddya mean--?"

"Geoff!" A familiar voice came, "Let them in! They're late additions to the guest list!" Out from the crowd stepped a very lovely brunette in her most glamorous (or at least, the most glamorous that the occasion called for) and announced herself as Bellissima Gianotta, the hostess of the Overlady's party. Geoff begged their pardons and humbly stepped aside, allowing the supers to join the revelry.

"Welcome to Chateau Shangri-La." Bella smiled, gesturing to the other partygoers. As the others went off to have a good time, however, Ivan was held back, "You're Ivan, right?"

"Yeah?"

"Come with me."

In a little while, everyone had gotten into the swing of things and were enjoying themselves comfortably. Tessa had involved herself with a couple other telepaths and enjoyed an inaudible gossip session, while Pierce and Flores treated themselves to a game of cards. Nadia found a hot young papi to tear up the dance floor with, while Fitz and Mark stood around, sipping sodas and trying their best not to look awkward. Ginger and Cookie debated with some superhuman geniuses about the nature of the physical and the metaphysical, and Charisma sat around with the "cool" people and listened to music.

And when things seemed to possibly be dying down, there came a pause in the air; all music stopped, and with it, the conversation. Every head that had a clear view turned to face the head of the stairs, and were greeted by the sight of the sexy southern belle in her finest. On her arm, Ivan had been dressed in clothes that were meant for Greg, but seemed to suit him much better.

"Damn," Nadia remarked from the dance floor, noticing how well the Cockney cleaned up.

Noticing that she now had everybody's attention, she and Ivan descended the staircase to the sound of applause. She made it to the foot of the stairs and the music started up again.

"Thanks for agreein' to this, Ivan. I was beginnin' t'think I'd be dateless at my own party..." she smiled.

"No prob, Ms. Overlady."

"Oh, please, call me Lisa-Lee." her warm smile grew a little.

As per the agreement, Ivan stuck close, and tried to entertain her as best he could. The two laughed, and enjoyed the cutting of the huge five-layer cake, and before they knew it, Lisa-Lee found herself smiling for no reason and paying close attention to him even when he wasn't saying anything. Ivan found himself paying less and less attention to the other girls, and wanting to sit closer and closer to the Overlady. His sentences became longer and longer and her laughs became less "saving face for my lack of a boyfriend" and more "wonder what he'll say next?".

Finally, when he'd finally built up the nerve, Ivan leaned in close and asked Lisa-Lee to dance.

"Wha-what?" she replied, a bit pleasantly taken aback, "I thought you said you don't dance..."

"I don't. Not when I can 'elp it. But for a lovely lady, I'll make an exception. 'Specially the birthday girl." Ivan's charming smile seemed to say it all, and so she didn't speak; she simply took his hand, and let him lead her (something she had not done with a man in a while). In return for asking her to dance, Lisa-Lee made sure he got his agreement's worth; to onlookers, the two seemed all but ready to strip and start making love right on the dance floor. Pierce, Nadia and Tessa watched from the sidelines, amazed that Ivan could dance (and that he would, in front of them), and Fitz tried his best to pick up his jaw. After their dance was done, Lisa-Lee smiled, "Now, that's MY kinda dance..." causing her escort to laugh.

"Yeah, well, I'm a bit rusty..." he replied with a chuckle.

The rest of the night seemed pleasantly mundane from that point. The sun had gone down, and in a little while no one would be left around except the supers, Bella, Lisa-Lee and her servants.

The dance partners drew close once again, and Lisa Lee spoke up first, "Well, it was fun, Mr. Fisk."

"Likewise, Ms. Cade. Suppose I'll see you again some other time, yeah?"

"Y'all come back now, ya hear?"

"Hey, hey, hey, whoa, whoa, whoa." Pierce finally spoke up, "This is charmin' an' all, but I know we had business other than me winnin' a cool 500, Toad sittin' around with Mark like a wallflower and seein' you-all dance like you're f*ckin'. Eh, matters of diplomacy, anyone?"

"Yeah, he's right..." Tessa groaned in agreement, and the others groaned the same agreement.

"Alright, then. Shoot. What can I do ya for?" The Seductress inquired, letting the soft cheer fade slightly into seriousness.

"Well, we need to know somethin', as far as your, uh, rule of this here territory." Flores spoke up gruffly, "That is to say, 'Are you a good witch, or a bad witch?'"

Awkward silence.

"Oh," Lisa-Lee snapped out of her abrupt homicidal fantasy and added, "you want to know about my intentions for rulin'. Well, ya don't have to worry about me. I'm not exactly the warmongerin' type, in case y'all hadn't guessed. I rule the place, set up rules, carry 'em out and such, but for the most part, I let folks do as they see fit."

"So...you're not in cahoots with the Mover?" Mark asked, "Not even sexy cahoots?"

"Hell...to the no." The Overlady scoffed, waving off the idea as though it were a bad stench, "He is creepy as hell, and he doesn't exactly come off as friendly. I wouldn't be his friend on FACEBOOK, let alone in my political affairs or my personal life."

"Well, what about Fred Annullin?" Ginger chimed in, remembering hearing something about the two of them in the news, "You involved with HIM, ain't you?"

"Define 'involved'." spoke the Overlady under her breath before saying aloud, "Well, yeah, in a way. We collaborate ever' once in a while, but we're not really allies. More like real good friends. That happen to, y'know, rule over stuff."

"So, even though you're cool with Overlord Annullin...you'll help us with the Mover, right?" Nadia was getting irritated with the Overlady's particularly bubbly mannerism, and was ready to go.

"Oh, yeah, sure." Lisa-Lee agreed cheerfully, "there's just one thing I require in return."

The group exchanged glances, and then huddled together as though it would help them form a coherent strategy. When they had come to the unanimous conclusion, Cookie said, "Anything you need from us, just name it."

And that she did, not bothering to hesitate or beat around the bush.

"I want you to let me have Ivan."

Everyone's jaws fell again, followed by a group, "WHAT?"

"You heard me? You give Ivan to me, to do with as I please, and when we're, uh, done, you have my word, I'll help you."

Another group huddle, this time excluding Ivan. It was Mark who spoke this time, "Uh...okay. He's yours."

"Sweet." Ivan grinned, before accompanying the Overlady upstairs...

The two made their way up to Lisa-Lee's room, and started to get undressed.

"You sure you're okay with this?" Ivan cautioned as took his shirt off.

As Ivan helped her unzip, she replied, "Why? What wouldn't I be okay with?"

"Eh, you'll see." Ivan grinned wickedly.

"I already know about your powers..." The Seductress assured, "Not much about you can surprise me."

"Well, let's hope you don't still think that when we, uh, get started." With that, the Cockney dropped his pants and his briefs. Much to Lisa-Lee's pleasant surprise, she was very wrong.

"Nothing about THAT in his data file." she thought to herself with a smile. He sat on the bed as she undressed the rest of the way, and when she had, she lay across the bed. He turned around.

"Ready?" He asked.

"O'course." She replied, reaching up and pulling Ivan's muscular frame on top of her.

His hands ran down her thighs and enjoyed, for a second, the smoothness of her supple skin. He kissed the nape of her neck and she wrapped her legs around his waist.

It was times like these he really enjoyed having extra arms. With a smile, he let out the extra pair, and grabbed her hips (while the other pair fondled her elsewise).

With a good-paced pelvic-gyrating motion, he thrust himself deeper into her, and retreated only when he felt her clench, and heard her gently gasp. He continued the rhythm dutifully, enjoying the stifled utterances that his motion elicited from her kissable lips. He pulled her face close to his and kissed her passionately like a long lost lover, alternating his speed and force from time to time. She hugged him close, feeling more secure than she had in a while, and let him do as he would with her. It seemed as though he was reading her mind to please her, perceiving her deepest desires and fulfilling them simply with his presence.

The two tossed and turned on Lisa-Lee's plush bed until they could no longer contain themselves, and Lisa-Lee felt Ivan's forceful frame ease up, giving way to a softer side of the big brute.

Lisa-Lee returned the Cockney's smile, but then a thought hit her, as the familiar scent of sex wafted. Was he feeling the same affection for her that Greg felt? Was he about to ask for more from her, as well? Had she made a mistake?

Ivan quickly answered her question, by popping up slowly from the bed, and stretching naked in front of the bedroom window (unwittingly allowing the female passersby on the street below to see him in all his manhood).

He turned around to face the Seductress and smiled, "Sh*t, you're good. Maybe we can do this again sometime?"

She pulled the covers around her with a relieved smile as she stood up, "Yeah, maybe."

He walked up behind her, "What's wrong? Need some more lovin'?" He chuckled as he wrapped his arms around her.

"Well, temptin' as that is, big boy, I've got matters to attend to."

Ivan looked at her confused, "Hey, Lisa-Lee, I was just funnin' with ya."

"I know." She responded, trying to remain upbeat, "I just don't think we need to get too close, is all."

Again, Ivan looked at her confused, "Who said I wanted to get close? I ain't tryin' to get serious. I just thought you might've had another round in ya." He chuckled and kissed her on the neck.

"Oh, well, that's good."

"Don't sound so relieved," Ivan joked, "I ain't s'bad."

"Oh, no, it's not--!"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Ivan caught her, "I was jokin." He kissed her on the cheek and started gathering and putting on his normal clothes.

"Y'know, you can keep the duds." Lisa-Lee offered, feeling like a jerk for her previous comment.

"Heh. Thanks." Another kiss on the cheek, "And, uh, thanks for...that." he gestured to the bed. The two went downstairs to meet up with the others. They had been waiting nearly two hours.

[Celadon's Penultimate]

The supers walked up to meet Ivan and the Overlady, except for Ginger and Cookie.

"Well? You gonna help us or not?" Pierce demanded of the Overlady.

A matter-of-fact nod from the Seductress, "Ivan was very, uh, convincin'."

"TMI, Ms. Overlady." Nadia grimaced, "So, uh, how you gonna help us? Y'know, give us some backup with military forces and stuff?"

"Yeah, hell, why not? I don't have much use fer 'em myself. Might as well help you get ridda that Mover guy. Maybe even establish my own little settlement up there."

Surprised menaces from the supers.

"What?" Lisa-Lee shrugged, "I gotta get somethin' out of it. That's my deal."

"Well, I don't know about your deal, but why not instead, we just put a good word in for you among the people?" Tessa volunteered, "You know, tell them not to try to depose you by an insidious coup in the ensuing revolution?"

"I s'pose that's good too..." Lisa-Lee sighed, "Alright, then, we got everythin' covered?"

Nods of approval from everyone, except Flores.

"What the hell? That's it? That's all? No need for angry debate, and uncompromisingly fortified will? What kinda Overlady are you?"

Lisa-Lee raised an eyebrow, "You serious? I don't argue. If I want you to agree, I persuade you my way. And I already, uh, 'negotiated' with Ivan upstairs. I got what I wanted. Now you get what you want. Kay, hon?"

Flores' right eye twitched in disbelief; he cursed under his breath, complaining about how he would never have wavered so easily in the same situation, and then fell silent again, shaking his head.

"Anyways," Lisa-Lee broke through the awkwardness again, "I honestly see no need to make a fuss about military assistance. I may send some emissaries to meet you up North; among them, my friends Changing Wind, Max Ivanov and Alyssa Davis. I may even jet Bella up there for a bit. Think you'll be pleased with my reinforcements...but we definitely gotta do somethin' about this here Mover guy."

The supers looked at one another and nodded in pleased agreement.

"Well, then, that's just great," Cookie smiled, "And what's better, I don't see any deception on you, or hear it in your voice, or smell it on you, so you can be trusted. So... we'll just be about our merry way." The blind oracle led the way out the door, past Bella, past the doorman Geoff, and back out into the streets of N'Awlins.

The group started walking, as normal, but were soon interrupted, by Cookie abruptly stopping on the sidewalk, causing the others to bump into one another.

"What gives, Corrina?" Pierce demanded.

"Well...I'm feeling...sinistral. Yes, definitely sinistral..."

"Eh?" Pierce cocked his head to the side like a confused dog, "Well, if you're feelin' sinister, maybe you should see an exorcist or--"

"Not sinister, boy! Sinistral! I feel a tug on the left side of my body. I say we go left."

Not sure what to think of Cookie's sinistral inclination, they all reluctantly followed behind her. Around a couple of corners, down a few alleys. They turned left, right, diagonal, sideways, about three miles, until finally, when they could no longer stand to support their own bodies standing upright, Nadia called out, "Um, just where the hell are we headed to?"

"Don't worry, baby girl," Cookie giggled, offering salutations to a cordial spirit passing by, "We're here..."

She stepped forward to the dingy door, and banged with one hand. A silence, and she felt a strange vibration that didn't come from the spirit world. No, it was material, and yet immaterial. Music. She stepped back and before her formed a mirror-shaped projection of energy.

"Yes?" It conformed to the word 'yes' as though the energy itself was speaking.

"Hi, there. You Ben?"

"That'd be me." Ben answered, "You need somethin'?"

"Well, hello, there. My name's Corrina. I--"

"Hey, Corrina." A different voice called from the projection.

"Hush, you! I'm talkin'!" Ben snapped, before returning to his chat with Cookie, "That was Wayne. I presume you know him?"

"Yep. I'm here with his friends and my sister. You mind if we come in?" Cookie entreated, looking back to the others.

The energy projection disappeared. And then, silence.

Really long silence, about five minutes.

Just when Cookie was about to bang again, the grungy, green door opened to reveal Ben's bald head. Instead of offering salutations, he gruffly implored, "Get in! Get in! Quick!"

[Celadon's Penultimate]

The supers piled in with haste.

"What's wrong, man?" Pierce looked to either side, hands fizzling with electrical power as though to ward off invisible foes, "What's all the fuss?"

"Just makin' sure you weren't followed." Ben reassured, "Far as I can tell, though, there's no trouble."

The group gave a sigh of relief in unison, and Ben led the introductions, but everyone knew that now was not the time for pleasantries. They still had one man missing (the very holder of the Evolutionist's Stone, worse yet), and after that, plans would be needed in order to continue their anti-oppression campaign. It seemed, in Wayne's professional opinion, that the territories were getting more and more restless and their Overlords were likely to do something rash to snap their subjects all back in line. Not that the Overlords were so benevolent before, but opposition was likely to make things much worse.

"All right," Mark spoke up, "So, we're safe. Now, what the hell are we trying to be safe from?"

"Spies." Francesca spoke up dryly, "Lisa-Lee is all right, and there are a few that aren't really that much of a threat, but the Raven Lady is fearsome. And Mistress Lil is vile, just wicked. Worse yet, the Mover has people everywhere. I've heard he even has people on Hispaniola."

Cookie shook her head, and sat down, trying to remain steady against the noxious fumes of the dingy room; Ginger sat down on the arm of the chair Cookie took. Nadia stretched and thought to lean on the chair, but...it just didn't seem worth it.

"So, now that we're safe, let's get to business." Ben stepped forward, "I don't think this here big a** group is gonna cut it."

Wayne nodded once, "I was thinkin' the same. We have to split up."

"And go where?" Nadia spoke up, "You got somewhere in mind?"

Wayne looked to Nadia upon hearing her question, and held a finger up, as he reached for a large, dingy piece of paper. He knelt down and spread the paper across the floor. Pierce, Ivan, Ben and Fitz came closer and looked over the map.

"Alright," Wayne started, "So here's what I had in mind. Ivan, you take Pierce, Tessa, Nadia and Fitz. Head up to Chicago. Ben, Byne and Francesca are headed to Boston. Damien, Flores and I are going to Indianapolis. And we'll pick up Jack along the way; if Lee-Lee is on our side like you say, then taking down Annullin can wait until we can think of a way to handle him without pissing off the Overlady."

"Sounds good to me." Cookie smiled from her chair, "Just like I imagined it. Now, Ginger and I will be on our way. Charisma? Torres? Don't you two have some business to attend to?"

A car passed by in the distance, causing a brief pause.

Torres shook his head with a chuckle, "Hell, I don't think I'll ever be used to that 'psychic' thing, but yeah, Corrina, I had plans to meet up with a couple informants in Hispaniola, Montreal, Tokyo and Beijing. Even Australia."

"And I have some reconsideration to get to." Charisma recalled, "If you-all are right about those supers I helped to bring in, then maybe it's time to help spring them back out. I can't go with you-all, though. I have some other business before then..."

So Ben stood back up, "Alright. So it's settled. We're leaving soon as possible. If we can help it, in the morning."

Mark looked around disgusted, "So, we're going to be spending tonight...here?"

Francesca nodded gravely, but Ivan clapped her on the back, and replied jovially, "No worries; I think I can get us a room in Chateau Belle Bourgeois. The clerk there has a thing for me."

THAT got a raised eyebrow from everyone.

"OR, I could just compel him to give us a room" Tessa spoke up to break the increasingly awkward silence, "...but, uh, we'll keep YOUR way in mind, too. You know, in case he CAN'T be compelled."

So it was settled. The supers had their marching papers and their plan would be put into action in the morning. With that, the supers got their things and headed back in the direction of Chateau Belle Bourgeois for a good night's rest. As the walk was finished, Lord knows they'd need it.

[Wish]

==Government Compound, Washington, DC==

"Well let me make my choice for you," continued the President.

Jolyne walked in.

"Send our little friend here away," said the President.

Before Jack could move Jolyne grabbed Jack's hand and both teleported away.

Jack landed face first onto the ground.

"Why did you do that for?" asked Jack, noticing that the teleporter did a perfect landing.

"Let's just say, that I'm not in a good mood to talk about it," said Jolyne.

"Oh yeah, well I'm leaving." said Jack moving 10 feet away before his whole body twisted in pain due to electric shock.

Struggling back on his feet only then did Jack realize a electric collar tattoo on his body after a cursory look at a nearby puddle.

Jolyne rolled up her sleeves there on her sleeves was a tattoo of a remote---a rather crudely drawn remote---in fact it resembled a cartoonish character---in fact it was designed by the President's daughter modeled after her favorite tv show---it was a very complex tattoo---it could even sing while Jack was zapped.

"Let's just say that I was demoted to looking after you." said Jolyne looking angry and rather annoyed that she received that tattoo.

"So unless you don't want your tattoo gone, you better find that artist friend of yours so he can remove mines too." said Jolyne.

"Otherwise. I'm going to zap you for all its worth," said Jolyne threatening to press the tattoo button again.

Jack who had considered himself the hero was now the plaything of an 18 year old girl with a tattoo of a cartoon character remote--A remote that at a push of a "button" could send 10,000 volts of electricity down his spine in a non-lethal manner all while the remote sang a rather catchy and corny song about S and M--in a cute inappropriate voice.

Jack had no other words to say.and just banged his head on the wall lightly.

"Unfortunately, our only lead to your friend is a security video footage from last week. If I had the choice I would just teleport us to where he is," said Jolyne anticipating Jack's next question.

"So now you better get walking and start doing some detective work." said Jolyne.

[Celadon's Penultimate]

Jack spat the extra drool that the electric shock elicited from his mouth, and grimaced hatefully at the teleporter.

"He won't be easy to find; you know that, right?"

"I don't care; find him. I don't care if he's in New Orleans, or in New Jersey or on New Hampshire Island, or on the opposite side of the ocean . Find him, and find him now."

Jack grumbled under his breath, but quickly cut off mid-rant when Jolyne threatened yet again with a buzzer zap. So, with that, the two headed into town; what town, Jack was unsure, but if Jolyne was behind it, it was more-than likely not anywhere he wanted to be. The air smelled slightly of coffee and industry. The buildings and people all looked quaint and normal, but something in Jack told him that the air of normalcy that he felt was somewhat...forced. And just to reassure his suspicions, over the air waves, a loud voice from an intercom just out of vision range.

"Good day, citizens!" the recording called, "This is your Overlady, Lillith Vandal-Savage, better known to YOU as Mistress Lil. The time now is exactly 12:00pm. Be sure to make haste to your lunch hour, and then back to school or work as soon as possible; the Police Force has a special place for those who are caught lazing about or shirking their duties. No need to worry, though, if you do your jobs with dedication and skill. And just remember, your Overlady values your efforts. The time is now 12:02 p.m. That is all."

Boston. Was Jolyne insane? She had dragged him all the way to what used to be known fondly as Bean-Town (and what was now known fearfully as Savage Territory) just so she could get a stupid tattoo removed? Jack looked around to make sure that they weren't being watched, but sure enough, they were. One sniper/sharpshooter at each corner of every rooftop as far as he could see. If she knew nothing else, Mistress Lil knew the power of keen observation to keep the "lowlies" in check.

==New Orleans==

Ben's sleeping mind returned to consciousness, and he grimaced, disappointed that the first thing to tell him 'good morning' was a mix of foot-fumes and the combined nocturnal gas emissions of Ivan and Byne (not the best choice of roommates, Ben decided). Ivan and Byne, however, had had the fortunes of already being subject to a life filled with primarily male relatives and mustard-gas poisoning, respectively; a funky hotel room polluted with their own man-stink, in comparison, was a bed of roses. Ivan stood up and stretched, accidentally pushing Byne into the wall. Helping him back up sheepishly, Ivan walked over to Ben, who had already started packing his things.

"Eh, mate, whatcher doin'? Packin' already? We ain't due out fer another hour."

"Hell naw, I ain't stayin here another hour! Not with your sweaty butt-musk and Mr. Foot-Fungus over there! Hell...NAW!" Ben grumbled begrudgingly as he has packed the last of his things, picked up his instrument and headed to convene with Wayne, who despite being disliked by the Bassist, at least smelled better than the brute and Byne.

Ben made his way into the room that Pierce, Flores and Wayne shared, and sucked the air in deeply. Only the smell of deodorant and cologne there. Now that's what a hotel room should smell like, Ben thought thankfully.

"Whaddya need?" Wayne looked over from the bed.

"To get the hell outta here. I'm gettin' restless. I think I'll go wake up the others." Ben left the room, shaking his head.

The supers would all be awake all in a matter of ten minutes, and would all be congregated in about fifteen. Tessa, Fitz, Wayne, Ben, Byne and Pierce gathered around the dining table, and Wayne pulled out a map of the United States (if they could still be called that). He pointed to each group of supers, and reassured that they each knew who they were going with, and where to. When all was said and done, they split back up to get their things ready to go.

They would meet in the lobby in another thirty-five minutes to check out, and hopefully, Tessa's compulsion on the clerk had not worn off yet. It hadn't. He walked spryly around the counter and greeted them with an almost-creepy amount of pep in his voice, anticipating that their stay was enjoyable, and hoping that they would return when they could.

From there, the train station. Cookie, blind as ever, led the way, criss-crossing intersections, interweaving expertly through crowds of people, past yards with barking dogs and bypassing the numerous taxis and buses which she claimed would have made the journey far too easy to be of any true value.

It was only when finally the supers reached the train station, that Cookie stopped dead in her tracks. Before Pierce, Ivan, Nadia or Damien could think to ask why the blind oracle had stopped so short, she turned around, misty-eyed.

"Aw...", Tessa gushed, coming up to the blind hippie, embracing her warmly, "It's okay, Corrina, we'll see each other again."

Cookie nodded, "I know, I know...it's just that...I'm so proud of you all."

"How's that?" Pierce spoke up, hoping she'd stop crying.

"Well, I guess it's just a psychic thing. I'm really proud of what you've done here, but also what you're gonna do. You all have the makings of greatness, and it's been an honor workin' with you. Hope you-all drop back by Odessa to see my sister and me when everything's said and done. Alright, now, me and Ginger have to go." Hugs all around from a misty-eyed Cookie, and then finally she smiled to her sister, "C'mon, Gingersnap, this train is ours."

Ginger looked to the others, who smiled really big. As though to anticipate their thoughts, though, Ginger quickly burst their sentimental bubbles with a very Ginger-like, "I don't know what y'all are waitin' there for. I ain't huggin' y'all..."

But Nadia wouldn't have it. She glomped onto the grumpy elder Davis sister with a smile and said, "Oh, shut up, stupid and hug me." The others, except Flores, Charisma, Torres and Wayne followed suit, huddling around Cookie's doppelganger.'

"ALL RIGHT, ALL RIGHT!" she fended them off playfully, "Dang, y'all love me so much, ya gonna smother me!"

She waved to them finally and followed after Cookie; the two boarded side by side, and when the train was on its way, they waved from their seats. When the two were out of sight, headed back to the dusky vibrancy of Odessa, Pierce sighed with a mix of relief and already missing the two unforgettable sisters, "Well, I guess we're on our own again..."

And that they were. For only about another hour, the supers sat around in wistful silence, reminiscing and contemplating. The winds seemed more significant, the group having heard Cookie's perspective on nature. The sky seemed that much more vast, now that Ginger had offered them her firmly-rooted knowledge of the supernatural. The two seemed distant phantoms already, whispering ancestor spirits guiding them through an otherwise unknowable wilderness. They would miss Cookie's bold perspective on the world, and how she led them fearlessly with the utmost confidence and insight. And now that the supers were about to face the next Overlords and Overladies in their agenda, it seemed they would be needed now more than ever before.

However, the group's thinking and discussing and silence would be interrupted in an hour, when the second train arrived. Again, goodbyes were said amongst the supers.

"Alright, so I guess we're up next." Ivan chuckled, looking to Charisma and Torres.

The two nodded, and Charisma grabbed the strongman in a hug, catching him a bit off guard.

"Give that to Jack," she smirked, raising her eyes to his, and he nodded with a smile.

When at last the others had said their goodbyes, Ben, Ivan and Wayne's parties boarded the second train with the things that Cookie had packed for them. They looked back to Torres and Charisma who remained on the platform, and didn't stop waving until they were out of sight in the distance. With their escorts all gone and on their way, Torres looked at Charisma matter-of-factly.

"You ready?"

"Well...I think so."

He took the optic assassin by the hand, and pulled her close. Before either of them thought to say anything more...a whoosh of loosened space-time. Time to drop Charisma off to right some wrongs, and then Torres would be on the road again.