Gods Among Us (IC|Superhero|Open)

[Aserais]

Skye Cross, AKA Synapse. Skye's Manhattan Apartment
Three days later

Jab. Jab. Right cross. Left hook, take a turning step to get in front of the back swing. Jab to stop the momentum. Low, middle, high left roundhouse kick, hop to switch legs, counter the momentum with a middle roundhouse kick to the right. Body blow, twice to the left side, once to the right, follow up with a right hook to the head region. Three quick jabs, right cross, and don't think about the blood--

Skye grunted and shook their head, grabbing onto the reinforced sandbag and deactivating their powers as they did so. The jingle of the chain they had hung the bag with brought them back to reality, stopping the flashback before it started. They had never meant to cause that much damage to the villain--and they had gotten more than a bit of a reaming-out from TIAMA's legal team for doing what they had done. They had defended themselves admirably, however, stating their reasoning perfectly. They could have either let it hit their teammate, hit the federal reserve, directed it outside where it could have hit someone else, or direct it back at its source.

Skye had made the only choice they could have made.

And in the end, it had turned out okay--they hadn't killed the villain in the end, which was a good thing, and they had been right about most of the bombs. It had been a massive bluff, with just enough reality to it to make it seem like a legitimate threat. Nothing more than convincing theater, like his "death" had been.

Skye wiped the sweat away from their forehead and went over to the nearby counter, picking up a towel to wipe themself down with. They needed to get out, to go for a run... Maybe visit their cousin.

They hadn't seen Anthony in a few weeks, and he had seemed... strange, the last time they had been together. Almost standoffish. Well, a bit more than usual, at least. When you were as smart as Anthony you always seemed standoffish to those who couldn't keep up--as smart as Synapse was, they could only just keep up with his mind when he really got going, and then only in theoretical physics.

They picked up their cell phone and opened it up, quickly navigating to the messenger app and bringing up Anthony's number.

To Tony

Hey man, on my way over. Hope you have snacks!

They put the phone in their pocket and made sure that Brutus was fed, giving him a scratch behind the ears, before they left the apartment. They waited until they were out in an alley before their eyes glowed a dull yellow and they took off towards Long Island at an extremely rapid pace. It only took them about fifteen minutes to make the hundred-mile journey, but even still, for them, it was a long time.

Long enough for them to get lost in the flow of the run.

They never felt more free than when they were running--nothing was more liberating than the knowledge that nothing could catch them, nothing could touch them unless they wanted it to. They knew that Anthony had beat himself up a bit over the accident, but it was honestly the best thing that had ever happened to them. They got to be a hero, they got the best power in the world, and they got to make a difference in the world--what more could they ever ask for?

Still, all good things must come to an end, and they slowed down as they approached the gate to the Cross estate and saw the gate come into view. The glow slowly faded from their eyes as they came to a light jog, stopping once they reached the buzzer on the gate. They moved their brown hair out of their eyes and pressed the buzzer, holding it in for just a bit longer than was strictly necessary.

"Hey dude, you gonna let me in? C'mon, it's kinda cold out here," they said, rubbing their arms with their hands for emphasis.

[Anowa]

Anthony Cross
Cross Estate, East Hampton, New York

A long laundry list of shit to do filled Anthony's mind. From modifying Germany's IRIS-T missiles to deal with potentially troublesome Metas, to rewriting some of the code for his TV. None of it really motivating him to get up for the second time that day. Whatever Elisa was doing after their little talk, it was stunningly quiet. Much like with children, if was completely quiet, it was likely trouble. Especially if it was a multi-hundred pound 2 year old with the mental capacity of a Swedish server farm.

Groaning, Anthony sat up and exited his room, this time taking care to actually get dressed. Simple t-shirt and pyjama pants constituted his garb. Opening the sliding door he was met with more silence, taking a few steps through the hallway leading to the basement, he heard ice shifting in the bathroom. he opened the door, to find Elisa currently occupying the ice filled bath tub. The few scant articles of clothing she 'owned' tidily folded upon the sink counter.

Raising a brow, Anthony approached the tub and peered in. The barbie doll-esque anatomy of the android making such an act evidently creepy, if one didn't know that the man designed the body sitting in his bathtub, and that there wasn't any unmentionables to speak of on said body.

Anthony simply blinked a few times, his southern drawl breaking the silence, "Elisa what the fuck?"

A barely audible responses the whole body of the woman remained submerged.

"I can't hear you through water."

The woman rose, "I required additional coolant."

"Why?"

"I made a connection to TIAMA servers, their anti-instrusion software is problematic."

Anthony pinched the bridge of his nose, "You realize I still have access right? I can get you the info you want. Also, where'd you get this much ice?"

"You lack the security clearance for personnel files. The freezer."

Anthony sputtered, ignoring the bigger question of how his freezer had this many ice cubes, "Yeah, no, not that, can't get you into that. Why the fuck do you want into personnel files?"

"To learn more about my soon to be compatriots. Also to practice."

Anthony didn't say anything more, simply putting his head in his hands. Her logic was solid, albeit morally grey as all hell. Sure she could ask, but that was a notably human thing to do, why ask when you can will yourself into knowing via the power of shit network code?

"Also, you have received a text. It is Skye, she's asking if you have snacks."

Anthony's eyes widened as his hands came down, sure, Skye came over, but usually less on the dot than this. Usually he at least had time to prepare, clean up, get the almost 500 pound machine-child into the basement where she wouldn't bring up the obvious questions. But now the AI was elbow deep in a place she shouldn't be fending off counter-intrusion software that could -in this case- lead to ego death.

"How long until you can safely pull yourself out of the server?"

"16 minutes. I am still retrieving files."

Anthony sighed again, leaving the bathroom wordlessly, "If you die, I'm going to be very sad." With no response beyond the machine slinking back into the ice, Anthony made for the kitchen. In the months since his condition had taken a distinct downturn, he'd started to branch out his tastes. Previously his palate had been basic for the most part. His pantry was rarely stocked outside of the basics, meat, fruit and vegetables one could find in the common american household. High quality, but not abnormal. But now they were stocked with a variety of exotic foods and snacks, obscure fruits from the ass end of no where, hot sauces based from blueberries, recipes for making the most outlandish dishes.

Anyone with more than a few brain cells would be able to look in the pantry and either decide Anthony had completely obliterated his tastebuds off of years of bacon, grits and potatoes... or it was a culinary bucket list made manifest. To Anthony, it was the latter. Eventually, he would be unable to chew or swallow, Hell, even breathe without a tube and a pump. The same thing was slowly happening with his other possessions, his car was now self driving, and he had written up plans to remove the driver's seat, all the stairs in his house now had functional wheelchair support hidden away under the actual wooden flooring. Despite these somewhat obvious preparations, one would be hard pressed to tell if it was his inbuilt paranoia, or if he was genuinely preparing for something.

Regardless, given his soon to be arriving company, he settled on a simple bacon and eggs. It was something that, even with his rather laggy nervous system, he wasn't prone to fucking up too bad.

A voice chimed over the kitchen's PA:

"Hey dude, you gonna let me in? C'mon, it's kinda cold out here,"

Anthony chuckled shaking his head, responding with his voice being piped out through the small speaker by the gate, "Nah, I think I'll let you freeze in 82 degree weather." his hand moved to tap a small screen on the wall. The front gate beeping before swinging open, "Front door's unlocked, and as always the autocannons won't target you."

The latter bit was an in-joke... technically. Sure it was treated as humor, but so was most of what Anthony said that was outlandish. Things like 'There's a cadaver in my freezer' or 'If you try to open the car door, a shaped charge will kill you' were seen as jokes.

Anthony was usually dead serious... usually.

[Remnants of Exilvania]

New York City
Lucky Strike Manhattan
Hans

"[...] Yes, perhaps you are right and two lanes aren't enough. Would it be possible to instead reserve all four lanes there on the right?"

, Hans asked the man behind the counter while letting his gaze wander across the establishment. It certainly looked...cozy. Perhaps it would suit the other TIAMA heroes' tastes, perhaps it would not. Well, not that he had much of a choice in this matter. Money dictated the establishment and he had calculated that what TIAMA would give him because he had evidently been present at the scene of the Federal Reserve robbery. Not that he felt like he deserved the money, afterall he had only been there and not contributed to anything. Well, anything other than distracting the police which certainly wasn't something a TIAMA sponsored hero should be doing.

"For how long Mr. Hans? 1 hour? 2 hours? Maybe 3?"

, the man asked him in return. Right, Hans wasn't sure how long this would possibly take. Perhaps just an evening? Or would it potentially be safer to just...rent the place out for the whole night? He hadn't had the chance to be in too many parties yet but maybe people wanted to party longer than till 10 o'clock PM. And he had seen in TV shows and movies that after parties, all kinds of guests and people tended to wake up everywhere in and around the party spot. Yes, it'd probably be better to do that.

"For the whole night. Let's say till 10 o'clock AM on the next day. Starting in..."

, he checked his wristwatch before continuing:

"...half an hour I would say. How much would that make?"

He stared at the man expectantly hoping to hear the price but instead received a confused expression and an equally confused:

"What?"

With a sigh he leaned on the counter and reiterated his points:

"I would like to rent the 4 lanes on the right for the entire night. What would it cost?"

To which the man simply replied:

"Nothing because we don't stay open for so long. You are free to stay till midnight though."

Hans sighed yet again. Of course, nothing was ever truly open 24/7 here in America, where he had thought Capitalism to be so strong for it to be the case everywhere. Well, it only meant that he needed dip into his actual earnings. There were few things a couple banknotes couldn't somewhat solve. He had initially intended to perhaps use them so the Lucky Strike Manhattan would close during their stay for a little more privacy. But well, they'd end up having plenty of privacy anyway if all the other customers had to leave by midnight already. He pulled out his purse and starting laying down 100$ bills, a small army of Benjamin Franklins soon staring up towards them as he asked again:

"I believe that covers our costs? Perhaps you would like to stay with us to ensure nothing is damaged or stolen?"

The man took the bills as though it was perfectly natural for him to do so, ordering them so they were all lying on exactly on top of each other before he started putting almost all of them into the cash register. The remaining few he slipped into his back pocket. Then he looked up again at Hans and merely said:

"No, I don't think I'd like to stay here. Just make sure to be gone before we open again tomorrow. Oh, and here's the key. Make sure to drop it in the right corner before the door when you leave so I can get back in."

A key was slid across the counter and Hans dropped his hand on it before sliding it the rest of the way over the counter and into his pocket.

"Understood. Don't worry, your establishment will be as safe as never before mein Herr."

The man shrugged, clearly not believing what Hans had said but atleast not caring enough at the moment to make a fuss over it. Something Hans was quite glad about because he didn't exactly feel like telling the man that the party was intended to be for TIAMA sponsored heroes. He looked over towards the lanes he had rented, once more making sure that everything was in order as an idea came into his mind. Perhaps it'd be best to start early. Just to get into shape and not suck completely. He didn't want to humiliate himself too much before the others by completely failing at the game. Because he had never actually bowled.

He tapped on the counter again to get the man's attention and asked:

"Could I have a pair of 46s? I'd like to start early."

The man just stared at him with a blank look. It took a moment for it to click in Hans' brain before he quickly corrected himself:

"Apologies, I meant 14s."

At that the man smiled and turned around, searching the for the required bowling shoes and presenting them to Hans shortly after. It was the usual red, white and blue shoes, old and worn but Hans didn't mind. He took them over to his reserved lanes and sat down on one of the couches where he quickly changed his streetwear shoes for these. Then he took one of the bowling balls, putting his fingers into the holes and swinging it around a little as he tried to get a feeling for the ball. It was perhaps a little too heavy for his tastes. A smaller yellow ball with a 6 caught his eye next. He tried that one and while it was so extremely light that he was afraid to swing it straight across the entire lane and into a wall, he would have felt confident and throwing that one...except that the holes just seemed to be too small for his fingers so he let that one go.

He finally settled for a dark red ball with a 9 on it. The holes had the right size and the ball wasn't too heavy to not be thrown. Yes, he felt pretty confident with this one. Taking a few steps back, Hans mentally prepared himself, trying to calculate how he'd have to throw the ball in order to hit the pins on the other end of the lane. Then he launched himself forward, taking several steps before throwing the bowling ball in a wide arc.

It crashed onto the lane with a deafening bang that made everyone turn their heads towards him. But Hans didn't notice as he was too focused on the bowling ball, praying fervently that it would find its intended target...but it rolled straight off into the gutter. A display above Hans' head promptly displayed GUTTER in big bold letters, accompanied by a nice little animation.

Before Hans could throw another bowling ball, he found himself face to face with the man behind the counter again, who rolled his eyes as he said:

"So much for the safety of the 'establishment'. You're wrecking it long before I even closed down. You aren't supposed to throw the ball but to roll it you moron. You're lucky that that throw didn't break the lane straight off the bat."

Hans gulped and listened intently to the man's endless litany, occasionally nodding and whispering "Sorry...". After what felt like an eternity, he was finally left alone again, left alone again to try and get atleast a little better at this though he had a feeling that he had a long and hard road before him. Well, perhaps a few of the other TIAMA heroes were equally bad at this game so they could share their pain and humiliation. And shared pain was only half the pain, right? Atleast he hoped they would show up. He had asked TIAMA to relay a message of his to all those who had been involved in the Federal Reserve Robbery or been closeby. It went something like this if he remembered correctly:

To all TIAMA sponsored or aligned heroes present or having planned to be present during the heist at the NYC Federal Reserve

---

I believe a get-together is in order to become better acquainted with each other. And what better way for the first step in that than a friendly victory celebration in the Lucky Strike Manhattan, a neat bowling center I found while looking for some cozy and affordable event locations!

To the more logically inclined and less fun-loving among you I'd just like to say that you cannot fight alongside one another without a bare minimum of knowledge and trust among one another. Preferably learned and exchanged in personal interaction rather than some files. It's harder to acquire that way but also a much more natural and organic way that could lead to less conflicts later down the line.

And please, let's not act as though there were no conflicts. I didn't see much as I was absent for much of the action in the Federal Reserve but what I did see was neither pretty nor did it exactly speak of anything less than rather strained relations among the different team members. Let me just stress that proper teamwork and dependability can be or rather is absolutely critical in arising situations such as this one and since all of us are operating in the same general area and are likely to run into one another when solving these situation, it is best we learn to act as teams or partners to better tackle these.

Back to the more (or less) enjoyable part of this message. I'll be paying for our stay and a few lanes at the Lucky Strike Manhattan with my TIAMA payment for the prior situation as I do not feel that I deserve a reward for my (in)action. I'd appreciate it if you provided food or drink for yourself or even all of us if you feel generous today.

See you there at 8 o'clock PM.

-Hans

He really wasn't sure if he had written it too well. He didn't really have any friends to invite nor any events to invite to so he usually didn't write invitations. Usually was good. This was the first time he had written something like that.

[Lessoni]

To all TIAMA sponsored or aligned heroes present or having planned to be present during the heist at the NYC Federal Reserve

---

I believe a get-together is in order to become better acquainted with each other. And what better way for the first step in that than a friendly victory celebration in the Lucky Strike Manhattan, a neat bowling center I found while looking for some cozy and affordable event locations!

To the more logically inclined and less fun-loving among you I'd just like to say that you cannot fight alongside one another without a bare minimum of knowledge and trust among one another. Preferably learned and exchanged in personal interaction rather than some files. It's harder to acquire that way but also a much more natural and organic way that could lead to less conflicts later down the line.

And please, let's not act as though there were no conflicts. I didn't see much as I was absent for much of the action in the Federal Reserve but what I did see was neither pretty nor did it exactly speak of anything less than rather strained relations among the different team members. Let me just stress that proper teamwork and dependability can be or rather is absolutely critical in arising situations such as this one and since all of us are operating in the same general area and are likely to run into one another when solving these situation, it is best we learn to act as teams or partners to better tackle these.

Back to the more (or less) enjoyable part of this message. I'll be paying for our stay and a few lanes at the Lucky Strike Manhattan with my TIAMA payment for the prior situation as I do not feel that I deserve a reward for my (in)action. I'd appreciate it if you provided food or drink for yourself or even all of us if you feel generous today.

See you there at 8 o'clock PM.

-Hans

Jack Dredd

He definitely wouldn't be providing food or drink, that was for certain. He wasn't flat broke, not yet anyway, but he definitely didn't have the money for party food. He wasn't even sure if he should attend. He'd heard about the Federal Reserve, but he sure as hell hadn't been involved. Still, if he was gonna be a real TIAMA hero, he figured he should get acquainted with his... colleagues? Teammates? Whatever they were, he should get to know him.

All these thoughts and more raced through his head as he walked into the bowling alley. Odd venue for some of the most dangerous human beings in a hundred square miles, but he liked it. It had its own kind of charm. As he walked in, he heard a heluva crash, one he quickly identified as someone... throwing a bowling ball? He assumed that was his gracious host, as he knew literally no one else who would do that.

"Uh, hello, Hans, right? I got your invitation. I wasn't... actually at the Federal Reserve, but I got it nonetheless, so I figured, 'Hey, might as well get to know everybody and- I'm rambling, aren't I? Name's Jack, Jack Dredd. Pleasure to meet you."

[Jerno]

John Farrow

Three Days Later...
John was doing better than before. Well it kinda just turned around for the better. After the fight at the bank he had been kicked out of his former apartment. Then TIAMA has saved him from being homeless. John has then joined TIAMA’s roster of heroes. That was yesterday.

Now John walked to the bowling alley. He had gotten an invitation from one of the heroes that had been present at the bank, so he figured he would go. As he walked he got an idea. A Rare black panther..no..Lion? No..maybe.. he mumbled as he walked along. The only thing was figuring out which animal to make his appearance with and the fact that he would need someone to open the door. That is until he was tripped and he fell. A man ran by, followed by a girl. “Venom Thorn!,” What the...How Lucky. He found Venom.

Emma Greenwood “Venom”
It had been several days from the robbery. As much as she tried to stay out from their radar, she realized it was only a matter of time until they found her. Then yesterday, she finally decided to join TIAMA. She was surprised she wasn’t the only one and met another new hero by the name of John. He went by the alias of Zookeeper. That was yesterday though. Right now she was busy tracking down a criminal. Until she bumped into no other than the Zookeeper. “Hey John Right?” “Kinda busy right now, later!” She went to chase the criminal, but he was gone.

Emma & John
“Hey Emma” John replied. John quickly realized that she was busy and decided to help. He quickly ran to the criminal with Emma in tow. They chased him until they blocked him off in a alley. John then quickly morphed the guy into a rat which squeaked in terror. John meanwhile morphed into fox and caught the rat. Emma who had been ready to take him out by using poison stood there in shock as the guy had been transformed into an animal. Yet again she wasn’t any different than he was. Both heroes then proceeded to take the criminal to the authorities, who were surprised upon seeing a fox and a woman. Emma had to reassure the officers that they were both TIAMA sponsored heroes and that the fox was a shapeshifter. The officers reluctantly accepted the explanation and proceeded to chain the criminal. John transformed back into a human. “Hey Emma, I’m currently going to a party hosted by a fellow hero wanna come?” Emma at first wasn’t sure if she wanted to go but then accepted the invitation. It would be a good idea to get to meet her fellow heroes. Both John and Emma left the precinct and headed down to the bowling alley. Before they got there they stopped by a pizza place and grabbed several boxes of pizza and several drinks. Once they arrived at the bowling alley they proceeded to enter the building. John quickly recognized Jack Dredd and Hans even he had seen them only briefly. “Over here Emma.” He called out. John and Emma place dthe food and drinks on a nearby table and introduced themselves. “Hi Hans, Hi Jack, I’m John, and this is Emma. We’re both new to TIAMA, we joined yesterday actually, thanks for the invite.” “Yeah thanks this place looks amazing!” Replied Emma. “Nice to meet you guys! Now let’s have some fun!” She called out. John told Hans, “I brought pizza and several liters of Pepsi, so go on and help yourselves as well.” “Nice to meet you.”

[Cybernetic Socialist Republics]

To all TIAMA sponsored or aligned heroes present or having planned to be present during the heist at the NYC Federal Reserve

---

I believe a get-together is in order to become better acquainted with each other. And what better way for the first step in that than a friendly victory celebration in the Lucky Strike Manhattan, a neat bowling center I found while looking for some cozy and affordable event locations!

To the more logically inclined and less fun-loving among you I'd just like to say that you cannot fight alongside one another without a bare minimum of knowledge and trust among one another. Preferably learned and exchanged in personal interaction rather than some files. It's harder to acquire that way but also a much more natural and organic way that could lead to less conflicts later down the line.

And please, let's not act as though there were no conflicts. I didn't see much as I was absent for much of the action in the Federal Reserve but what I did see was neither pretty nor did it exactly speak of anything less than rather strained relations among the different team members. Let me just stress that proper teamwork and dependability can be or rather is absolutely critical in arising situations such as this one and since all of us are operating in the same general area and are likely to run into one another when solving these situation, it is best we learn to act as teams or partners to better tackle these.

Back to the more (or less) enjoyable part of this message. I'll be paying for our stay and a few lanes at the Lucky Strike Manhattan with my TIAMA payment for the prior situation as I do not feel that I deserve a reward for my (in)action. I'd appreciate it if you provided food or drink for yourself or even all of us if you feel generous today.

See you there at 8 o'clock PM.

-Hans

Amalure Davis really didn't have anything better to do at the time of the 'victory' celebation (on account of the perpetrators getting away, she didn't see it as much of a 'victory'), so she figured, that since she really did wish to meet and get to know her collegues's baseline tendencies, at a time that was less stressful than the immediate aftermath of a battle, a party would be an excellent place to do so. She also decided to tell her sword Aethelind to make her a special pair of "bowler sunglasses and bowler shoes" upon getting the letter.


She arrived at the Lucky Strike, wearing a cute bowling outfit and carrying a gym bag that Aethelind was inside, along other ascessories. The heroes she met were those that she had since researched but she really wasn't aware of them playing any meaningful role on the scene (not that she did, on account of being late) so to an extent, that was a disappointment. Nonetheless, she would have to get to know them eventually and more would be bound to come later.

Aparently she arrivied soon after Emma and John so she heard introducing themselves. When they concluded, Amalure introduced herself to the small group.

"My name is Amalure Davis, alias, Ophiuchia, I believe Isaw you at the federal reserve, John, though I'm new to the rest of you. I'm here to get to know my collegues better. That and beat you all at bowling." Amalure said, with a cocky smile.

"Not at all sure what this crowd likes to eat, so, I'll just pitch in to buy delivery later. Anyway, off to practice." She said, walking off.

Amalure, not particularly intrested in engaging in small talk with these few at the moment, particularly since she wasn't awre that any played a major role at the Federal Reserve, shenquickly headed off to take somethings out of her gym bag. She had bowled before, and was an above average, but not particulary great bowler, but that's why she had her sword Aethelind with her. Amalure put down her gym bag and took out the two pairs bowling shoes and a pair of bowling glasses that Aethelind had spend the day making, before zipping the bag up.

She then headed to one of the reserved bowling lanes. As she picked up a bowling ball, she used her throat mic Aethelind provided her with to mutter instructions to the A.I. in her gym bag while her mouth was closed.

"Aethelind, guide this ball home" she instructed it. Amalure had a little parlour trick up her sleeve, one that'd be difficult to use im a battle.

When Amalure let go of the bowling ball, Aethelind went to work using light weight shield projectors embeded in Amalure's glasses and shoes to put out redirecting prongs of invisble forcefield to tap at the ball to put it on path for a strike. Mostly invisible, keen detection would reveal minscule flashes of red light where the shield interacted with the ball.

Trying to use the shield, even the one in the sword it's self, to do full "telekenetics" would be impractical. The amount of energy used was proportional to the surface area her shield expanded to, meaning that shield manipulation mean't either taking shielding from elsewhere or having it be weaker, wraping around something to bold it in place tended to take a decent amount of shield surface area. Not to mention, the longer and more energy intensive the contact, the more that area of the shield would glow red and eventually break, requiring a 10 second recharge which could easily be deadly in combat.

Here though, all Amalure needed to do was keep the ball roughly on target and not careening into the gutter, which is where having decent bowling skills came in. But she wasn't going to be doing any trick shots beyond some impressive curve balls and aethelind wouldn't bother try save bowls that were too obviously off track. This bowl, however, was on track enough to correct and ended up being a strike.

"First bowl, first strike!" Said Amalure, pumping her fist, turning back, smiling at the heroes behind her. If nothing else, if someone caught her cheating, it'd be a conversation starter and if they didn't, too bad for them, she'd gladly keep winning.

[Remnants of Exilvania]

New York City
Lucky Strike Manhattan
Hans

Hans was still a bit...unsettled from the reprimand he had just received so when someone suddenly called out his name from behind him, he froze up, fearing it was the same man again, having changed his mind about him and his little plan. But relief quickly flooded over him as he continued listening, realizing that it was one of the recipients of his invitation. He hadn't expected someone to show up so soon. They were still almost half an hour early. Well, perhaps they had simply miscalculated how long they would take.

With a smile Hans turned around and offered his hand to Jack, saying:

"Ah, Jack? Jack Dredd? Why no need to be so defensive, I merely tried to get TIAMA to send this to a relatively large group of heroes in the closer vicinity. It's not like I knew anyone by name either. But, well, you are a start. My name's Hans. Just Hans really. Pleasure to meet you too."

Suddenly some ruckus caught his attention. Someone was calling for some Emma, causing Hans to lean to the side to look past Jack only to see someone he remembered from the bank and a woman he didn't remember at all. He assumed she was that Emma though. They were carrying what looked like pizza boxes as well as soft drinks, hu? Small bottles as usually sold in the takeaways. Alright, so he wouldn't have to worry about having already spent all his spare cash and not getting any food and drink for himself either. A few people actually were pretty damn generous.

He stepped forward to stand beside Jack as the two approached, laughing as he said:

"Why it seems we got quite a few early birds. I actually thought I'd manage to have some peace and quiet to practice my bowling skills first but I suppose I lost that. Glad to see you brought some food and drink though."

He threw a critical glance at the pizza boxes, his stomach rumbling as he asked:

"Say, how long do these stay warm? I haven't had takeaway pizza yet so I wonder, should we perhaps start early with their consumption? I'm sure the others won't mind if the pizza is gone when they arrive, they'll probably have some stuff of their own and perhaps we can even order some new pizza delivered to us."

[Lessoni]

Jack Dredd

Jack took the offered hand, giving a brief shake. When he saw the pizza arrive, most other thoughts went out of his mind. He wasn't exactly starved for food, but he had the age old problem of the teenage boy; a bottomless stomach. That was, until Amalure arrived.

"Holy shit she's hot," he whispered under his breath.

"Say, how long do these stay warm? I haven't had takeaway pizza yet so I wonder, should we perhaps start early with their consumption? I'm sure the others won't mind if the pizza is gone when they arrive, they'll probably have some stuff of their own and perhaps we can even order some new pizza delivered to us."

Shaking his head ever so slightly, he turned to Hans. "I... actually have no idea how long a pizza stays warm. Never had one long enough to check. However, I assume cold pizza is terrible."

With that, he cracked open the pizza box, taking a slice and eating it in a frankly frightening amount of time. He grabbed another, repeating his pizza eating feat, and closed the box. He'd wait for everyone else to get some to have more.

[Segral]

Emma Davis
Lucky Strike Manhattan

"Friendly victory celebration, huh..." Emma muttered to herself, taking in her surroundings. As far as bowling alleys went, it was certainly one of the more elegant ones she had seen, with a mixture of red, yellow, and white light bathing everything in a somewhat vintage glow. Between the huge chestnut bar at the back, the rows and rows of pool tables, and the oddly classy $20 Marilyn Monroe pop-art prints, it was pretty striking. Probably a place she would've loved hanging out in when she was sixteen or seventeen, before heroism and managing her cash became her full-time job. Today was like a night off for her, a night that she would usually spend at a concert somewhere, or a club, but here she was, hanging out in a bowling alley, looking for people she had never met in her life.

"Few lanes...which few lanes?" she asked herself, scanning the huge spread of alleys for the group she was looking for. The purple glow made it difficult to see, casting everything in a permanent shadow. She could see a few small crowds here and there, families, that sort of thing, but no twenty-something superheroes attending a victory bash. It was 8:05, so she wasn't early or anything. There did seem to be a large group forming towards the right-hand side of the center. She could spot roughly five or so people, one already out and about bowling, with four others hanging around like flies over a pile of pizza boxes and several bottles. Maybe these were her people.

As she got closer, the five figures came into greater detail. The one bowling was a woman, and the tallest friggin' one she had ever seen. She easily broke the 6-foot barrier, and was probably even taller than that. She towered over Emma and her measly 5'3 frame, and just thinking about it made her uneasy. As for the four in conversation, they all looked fairly normal. One scrawny-looking Korean guy, a younger-looking dirty blonde girl, a guy with darker hair, and another blondie, this time a short guy. Hell, he was barely taller than her. A fairly regular-looking group of people, but heroes were always far from regular. She had been around them long enough to figure that out. Still, maybe they wouldn't mind a gatecrasher. After all, the message had also invited those who planned to be present at the Reserve, and yeah, maybe she did plan to be there. Who was going to say otherwise, the moral police?

This was all hinging on the prospect of this actually being the TIAMA get-together. If this wasn't, then she was about to make a major fool of herself.

"Hey, sorry to butt in, do one of you happen to be a guy named Hans?" she asked as she strode towards the group, flicking her lazy ponytail over her shoulder in the process. "Name's Emma, I got an invitation for some party going down over here. I wasn't at the Reserve or anything, but I'd like to join in on the festivities, maybe buy a round for everyone as token of my gratitude. If I'm talking to the wrong group of people and wasting your time, consider the round as a token of apology instead."

[Lessoni]

"Hey, sorry to butt in, do one of you happen to be a guy named Hans?" she asked as she strode towards the group, flicking her lazy ponytail over her shoulder in the process. "Name's Emma, I got an invitation for some party going down over here. I wasn't at the Reserve or anything, but I'd like to join in on the festivities, maybe buy a round for everyone as token of my gratitude. If I'm talking to the wrong group of people and wasting your time, consider the round as a token of apology instead."

Jack Dredd

Holy shit she's also hot, thought Jack. It almost slipped out, but he had the presence of mind to keep it in. "So, you're another hero, eh? A round of drinks doesn't sound so bad."

It was then that he remembered he wasn't allowed to drink yet. "B-but I have to drive home tonight, so- you know what I'm just gonna go bowl."

He walked away from the group, going up to the counter and requesting a size 11. He walked up to a lane, next to the tall woman who bowled a strike first try. He picked a light ball, a 7, that fit his fingers just right. Stepping forward, he threw the ball, a near perfect straight line. It promptly hit a 7-10 split. He cringed ever so slightly. He didn't manage to hit it on his second throw. He stepped back a little, turning to the tall woman. "H-Hey, my name's Jack. I'm a, uh, a hero. That was a nice strike you got."

[Sudbrazil]

Bowling with the Boys
Manhattan, New York - 8 o’clock

Major Charles Alexander Highcastle marched cane in hand at a steady pace out of the New York Subway. It was at times like this when he regretted buying that run-down farmhouse instead of an automobile, though he knew that in the longer run it was still better than a cramped, overpriced apartment like those the youth insisted on. As he paused to gain his bearings he drew his pipe from a coat pocket and packed it with tobacco. He did not remember such depredation during his last visit a century ago, but then again, there were not so many foreigners and glass buildings either. To his eyes, New York seemed to be buckling under its own weight, and he thought that perhaps it was time to clean the house. Perhaps, he mused in jest, a case could be made for a ‘Great Fire of New York’.

At some of his acquaintance’s behest, he had procured a casual set of clothing which would distance himself from the khaki Major’s uniform he had used for his first months in New York. And yet, the tweed sporting suit did not seem to have the desired effect. He still drew curious glances and stares from the native urbanites, although granted more lenient ones. Edward reasoned that, coupled with his proud martial gait, he must have seemed like a dandy for such poorly-dressed and unkempt people. Eventually, he reached the Lucky Strike’s facade, which struck him as quite fancy for a bowling alley. Indeed, the interior was rather tasteful and much better furnished than those in his childhood memory. Quickly passing by the bar, he located his fellow law enforcers, which he saluted them from afar using his flat cap.

“Good evening!” he began with a warmly apologetic tone, “Sorry if I wasn’t able to come help you lads earlier this week, but the metro was quite clogged at the time. I hope this compensates from my absence.”

As he spoke, he presented the two bottles of whiskey he had acquired from the establishment and placed them on one of the nearby tables together with drinking glasses. He hoped that they would not get so drunk as to waste the precious alcohol, which weighed somewhat on his salary and pension.

“If the meal gets cold I can always warm them up too,” he offered, stealing a glance at the boxes of ‘Italian’ food.

[Jerno]

John Farrow and Emma Greenwood

“Actually I have no idea how long they’ll stay warm Hans, but go ahead eat up there’s plenty to go around.” John said. John smiled. He noticed another person walk in and introduce themselves, her name being Emma..now there’s two Emma’s, John muttered. John didn’t care. “yup you’re at the right place, a bunch of heroes just hanging out.” “Nice to meet ya!, I’m John I go by the alias of Zookeper and this is my friend Emma Greenwood.”John said. Emma waved and smiled “Hi nice to meet you! I’m Emma I go by the alias of Venom.” John and Emma Both fretted Amalure as well. John was impressed by the skills that amalure showed while bowling, though he suspected that her abilities were being used. Either way it was impressive. John was never really good at bowling so he sat down on a nearby chair to relax. Emma on the other hand went to a nearby open lane and grabbed a bowling ball. She greeted the friggin huge person beside her “H-hey I’m Emma, nice to meet you!” She proceeded to grab a bowling ball and spun it toward the end line. With a loud clang all the pins fell except one. Awe man, she muttered oh well. Meanwhile John noticed another hero join the group. Oh whiskey, John eagerly grabbed a cup, “thanks I’ll just help myself to this drink here.” John then served himself and with a swing he gulped it down. John knew he was bound to have a great time tonight.

[Revlona]

White Plains, New York
Early Morning

Henry had never burned down a police station, yet. That was why he was now standing across the street from the White Plains police department. It's not that he had never thought about burning one down, he just didn't want the attention that doing so would bring him, at least he hadn't wanted that attention in the past. That had changed when he had seen one of his works on the evening news, even that 20 second montage the news station had given to his work had sent all kinds of adrenaline through his body, it was even better than the rush he got from doing the actual burning.

So that was why he was standing across from the police station, he had decided this one would do just fine, out of the City itself so it shouldn't bring the authorities down on him to hard, but it'd still make the news. Henry had gone over several ideas of how exactly to go about burning the place down. He had discarded setting the outside ablaze or throwing a fireball inside, those were to easy, no, he would do it hands on. He had already planted a new set of clothing a distance away from the scene so he could easily make his escape and get dressed.

Henry almost giggled as he walked into the reception area of the little department, hands in the pockets of his disposable jeans. He looked around, quickly taking in how vacant the place was, that was sad. "Can i help you sir?" A small woman in the get up of a police officer said from behind the counter. Henry only smiled at her, enjoying the way her face contorted in worry as she took in his psychotic smile. His smile widened as she muttered something into the mic on her shoulder.

It only took a few seconds for three more officers to come out of a door behind the desk, their eyes warily searching the room before stopping on Henry. One of them with the chevrons of a sergeant stepped forward, hand lightly on his service pistol as he said, "Are you alright sir? Do you need anything?"

Henry switched his smiled from the girl to the Sergeant before saying, "Fuel," He then willed the flames to come and they did. He felt the room around him instantly fill with the comforting heat of a roaring flame, he felt his disposable clothes evaporate in milliseconds. He could tell already that everyone in the room was either dead or knocking on the door, he could also hear the screams of the officers in the back rooms as the fire, willed on by him, quickly spread into the rest of the building.

The smile remained on Henry's face as he escaped through one of the windows, dispersing the flames from his naked body as he did so. He hurried in the direction of his clothing so that he could circle back and watch the building burn. As he hurried off he saw that already a news van was on scene, called by him mere seconds before he had entered the police building. As he saw the van he giggled, pure ecstasy rushing through him.

[Remnants of Exilvania]

New York City
Lucky Strike Manhattan
Hans

Having been temporarily preoccupied with Emma and John, he had nearly missed another arrival. And considering the newcomer, he could've almost called it a crime as the massive, stunning blonde was incredibly hard to miss. He just caught someone calling themselves Amalure Davis aka Ophiuchia and falsely assumed it was Emma...which led to quite some confusion on his part and doubts of his own sanity again. But the sound of a bowling ball rolling across the lane and smashing straight into the pins, wiping all of them in a perfect Strike quickly gave away where the newcomer was.

"First bowl, first strike!"

, she loudly proclaimed, smiling as she turned back to them.

Now Hans had not just seen his fair share of monstrosities. Oh sure, there were plenty of those, always, at all times in those secret labs. It was nothing new. But he was also no stranger to beauty. The nazis were oftentimes quite obsessed with their own form of beauty and Amalure embodied the national-socialist beauty ideal to the bone. He felt as though he was looking at one of the countless blonde clones or newly created human beings he had seen back then. But this one with the obvious difference that she wasn't rotting in some dumpster for bodies or was swimming in some cultivation tank but actually quite...alive and...she really didn't feel as...empty...as the dolls the nazis always created. Still, she creeped him out a little solely by her physical similarity to what he had seen in that place.

Jack in the meantime had already pondered the question of how long a takeaway pizza stayed warm...and promptly decided to apply the tried and tested solution of just eating the pizza before it got cold. Hans really couldn't fault him for that, as the lad had seemed pretty darn hungry and to be fair, he was as well but with Amalure already starting to bowl he quickly realized that he had to do some more things before he could enjoy his dinner.

However, before he could make it to the bowling lane Amalure was using, he was stopped by more new arrivals. Someone asked for his name and his head snapped around so quickly, he could feel pain shooting up his spine for a moment. Massaging his neck, he sheepishly turned around to greet the newcomer, his head slightly cocked in confusion:

"Hans? I am Hans! And you are Emma? I see, then we better get the names sorted quickly to ensure that there's no mix-ups. What is the name you prefer to use when in your role as a hero? Emma? No, not you I mean the other Emma that came together with John. Hey, would you like to come over here because we've got another Emma here? Would probably be good if we figured out how to call you because calling you Emma in a more serious situation could end up rather deadly."

As he tried to sort the Emma situation, he noticed out of the corner of his eye that Jack apparently had enough of the pizza for the moment and was strolling over to Amalure to try his luck at bowling as well. An act that made Hans curse under his breath. But before he could hurry after them, someone new already joined their merry little group. Someone...decidedly older than the rest of them. Both in physical appearance as well as get-up. Perhaps Hans had spent only a few months in this modern world so far but he could certainly see when something was out of place and that tweed suit was certainly something one didn't see that often. He wondered what may or may not be up with the guy but took it upon himself to greet the man as well, offering his hand for a handshake and asking:

"Ah, someone a little...older I see? With some fine alcohol I see. But, and I apologize if I was simply too deaf to understand it, but I seem to have failed to catch your name, Herr...?"

He didn't stick around for much longer though, urgently having to take care of what was happening on the bowling lane he had initially started on. With a few steps he was behind Amalure and Jack, smiling as he typed on the control board for the monitor and game as he told the two apparently quite enthusiastic bowlers:

"I appreciate that you two are undertaking such great efforts to improve my terrible statistics in this infernal game but I am sure that you would much rather gather points for yourself rather than for me so let me just quickly reset the game and start a new one."

Indeed, the game he had started had been just for him alone as he had thought that he'd still have some time. Their points had now all gone onto his account, somewhat mitigating the dreadful Gutter he had managed right on his first try.

"Let's see. I am sure Fräulein Davis would like to go first, yes? What should I call you? Amalure? Ophiuchia? Davis?"

He tried the first one but, much to his dismay, found that the machine wouldn't accept that name.

"Alright, it accepts only 5 characters for the name. Would you perhaps like to be labelled Amalu for the duration of this match? Or Ophiu? Or just Davis?

Yes, Jack, you're quite easy to add, so am I myself."

[Cybernetic Socialist Republics]

Amalure watched a short, black haired woman walk by, asking for hans. She didn't recognize her as she wasnt in the scene of the crime, but upon her asking for hand, Aethelind ran search through the TIAMA files she had access to and recognized her as Jester but apart from that alias the name that she gave, Emma, there was little else.

Intresting, Amalure thought, a secret identity.

As she flicked her over her pony tail over hero shoulder before she introduced herself to the rest of the group, Amalure rolled her eyes. She watched as Jack, who she knew from his file was under legal drinking age, quickly accept and then deflect Jester's offer of drinks, before he akwardly went for a pair od bowling shoes and made his way towards the alley next to Amalure.

As Jack begun speaking to her, Amalure bowled once again, with Aethelind assisting her into bowling another strike. Now if she was going to compete with the rest of the heroes later this night, she'd know not to get a strike everytime, just often enough convincingly win.

Amalure turned to Jack, the exceedingly scrawny asian kid, that pulled up in the alley to her, it was nice for a change, not having to look that far down when having a conversation with someone.

"Thanks, Jack. I recognize you from your TIAMA file. The name's Amalure, by the way, If you missed when I introduced myself."

Soon, Hans headed over, insisting on reseting the nickname that was plugged into the score computer.

"Try A, M, R, L, R" she said, in response to Hans asking for a 5 letter replacement for her name.

[Demencia]

Zinnia Howard
Lucky Strike Manhattan, New York City

To say a get together like the one at the bowling alley was technically below Zinnia's status was an understatement. She was more of a high society party type, but there wasn't one that she was particularly interested in going to at the moment so she figured putting face time in with TIAMA would probably be appreciated by some of the higher ups. She wasn't exactly... prepared for this sort of engagement, but that wasn't really an issue because even if she did try to dress down she'd still be incredibly obvious so she'd might as well go all out. The flowing red dress she wore probably cost more than what every other hero was paid for the Reserve job combined. Rental bowling shoes were revolting, so Zinnia managed to track down a pair of 3-1/2 inch heel bowling shoes for the occasion.

She flew from her penthouse to the bowling alley, entering through the back door. She carried two bottles of four hundred dollar champagne and set them on a table when she reached the group. "I brought these because, no offense, I don't feel like choking down whatever cheap swill they serve here." she said. She lowered her aviator glasses a little and looked at the pizza with slight disgust at the amount of grease and carbs she saw, but she didn't say anything about it. "Is that all the food? I don't think it will last with so many people." Maybe she should have catered too...

[Endem]

Chris Digel
fashionably late?

Eventually, Chris did show up, and it was immediately clear what held him up, as he was carrying a crate teeming with bottles of various beer brands, though, most prominently it would seem Heineken and Budweiser were featured, on top of that rested three pizza boxes, on top of them finally were 6 large bottles of sodas, Coca-Cola, Pepsi, Sprite, Fanta, 7up, and Dr. Pepper in that order, next to them were four bags from fast foods: 2 McDonald's, 1 Burger King and 1 KFC.

"I hope I'm not too late, I heard to bring our own food, and decided to go big so everybody can get a fill", he said, setting the crate next to table, and the items previously on the crate on the table, he then realised he forgot to introduce himself to the newer members, or those that weren't on the mission, "Name's Chris Digel, but you can call me just Chris" he said to them before sitting down on one of the sofas and opening a bottle of beer.

[Cybernetic Socialist Republics]

Zinnia Howard
Lucky Strike Manhattan, New York City

To say a get together like the one at the bowling alley was technically below Zinnia's status was an understatement. She was more of a high society party type, but there wasn't one that she was particularly interested in going to at the moment so she figured putting face time in with TIAMA would probably be appreciated by some of the higher ups. She wasn't exactly... prepared for this sort of engagement, but that wasn't really an issue because even if she did try to dress down she'd still be incredibly obvious so she'd might as well go all out. The flowing red dress she wore probably cost more than what every other hero was paid for the Reserve job combined. Rental bowling shoes were revolting, so Zinnia managed to track down a pair of 3-1/2 inch heel bowling shoes for the occasion.

She flew from her penthouse to the bowling alley, entering through the back door. She carried two bottles of four hundred dollar champagne and set them on a table when she reached the group. "I brought these because, no offense, I don't feel like choking down whatever cheap swill they serve here." she said. She lowered her aviator glasses a little and looked at the pizza with slight disgust at the amount of grease and carbs she saw, but she didn't say anything about it. "Is that all the food? I don't think it will last with so many people." Maybe she should have catered too...

One thing among those that Amalure hated the most, were wealthy metas that flaunted their wealth, particularly by putting down "lesser" things, be they 'villian' or 'hero'. On that front, as far as Ophiuchia was concerned, the only differences between the two were the extent of thd success of their respective public relations teams and how one had to go about dealing with them as a result.

So when she watched the easily identifiable Zinnia pass by, she decided that she'd take to first opportunity to attempt to annoy her.

She left the lane that she was at and headed back to where the rest of the heroes were grouped and where Zinnia was decrying the local alcohol as 'swill' and asking if the pizza that had been so thoughtfully brought in was 'all the food'.

Then, Chris Digel entered, carrying a load more of cheap alcohol, pizza and fast food.

"No, apparently it wasn't all the food". Said Amalure, sarcastically, as she walked by Zinnia.

"I'm Amalure Davis, alias Ophiuchia, by the way. Guess you don't expect to have to introduce yourself." she said to Zinnia, still sarcastically, as she walked up to where Chris lay down the food and picked up a bag of McDonald's, a Fanta and a slice of pizza.

Personally she prefered, Burger King, but picking McD's preserved choice for her next collegue and it was marginally more likely to provoke a response out of Icarus.

[Union Princes]

Holiday
Yesterday

---

"Dr. Oberstyer is ready to see you." the receptionist addressed Maria Ludwig, who was sitting by herself in the waiting room. All the other patients were either anxious or contemplating in their seats as they were worried about their own health problems. Only Maria seem strangely jovial about her appointment as she stared at the television seeing herself on the news. Her eyes of sapphire stones gazed at the headlines still talking about the heroic TIAMA agents thwarting a villain plan before wandering down to meet the gaze of the receptionist's brown eyes.

"Danke!" Maria chirped in gratuitous German before launching from the seat and cheerfully skipped her way to Dr. Oberstyer's room. She didn't need directions, after all, she used to work here as a nurse. Sunset Hospital was familiar ground to the blondie as it was former her home, her workplace, and her playground before her transfer to TIAMA. But unknown to most, it was her base of operations where she contributed her blood to the Surgeon's criminal enterprise.

"Hello, Maria." Dr. Oberstyre greeted with a voice of stone and steel. "Ready for your appointment?" he asked while he finishes cleaning up his office from the previous patient's checkup. His operation room was as sterile and overbearing as the doctor; not a single thing could be acquitted to familial warmth. Knives, scissors, syringes, gloves, aprons, and other medical tools dominated the shelves and countertops while diagrams and crosssections of injuries and diseases covered the blank walls in his office. A medical student would find more joy learning about the wonders of medicine in a study guide than working with Dr. Oberstyer.

Maria returned only a small smile as her adoptive father closed and locked the door behind her. "What was your accomplishment in your mission at the Federal Reserve?" he asked in a frank matter, "Any casualties you inflicted? Any hostages you rescued? You saved the gold?" The blondie frowned before shaking her head. "Pity." he unhumorously remarked as Maria extended her arm outwards. "I only collected organs of the fallen criminal. Got his heart, lung, and stomach tissue. Currently putting the samples under observation after finding slime from the corpse.

"An admirable endeavor. I hope your intuition has borne some fruit. " the doctor remarked after he finished removing the last syringe from Maria's wrist. "This concludes our appointment."

---

The celebration of their recent victory gave Maria an unprecedented level of joy. She never had the chance to hang around this many people with powers before. In fact, this could be where Maria could make her first friend! Although what she did back at the Reserve wasn't the best of first impressions. Not only that, Maria wasn't a spectacular cook and couldn't bring any spectacular dishes.

However, Maria figured what she can bring the table was significantly more valuable than food. Which was why when Maria was dropped off at the bowling alley with a cooler on wheels, she eagerly entered the premise to bring her gifts to her comrades. The smell of food tickled her nose and she wasted no time finding the table where TIAMA was at.

"HEEELLLLOOOOOO, my Ubermensch!!!!" Maria shouted, waving her hand while pulling the cooler with her other hand. "I've come bearing gifts for you all!"

[Mandicoria]

New York City, Outside City Hall
The Patriot and Dr. Tesla
A debriefing awaits...

The armored truck carrying Patriot and Tesla slowly pulled up in front of City Hall. Streets around were quiet considering the action earlier in the day was enough to draw everyone attention away. Enough to make it simple for the two heroes to disembark without having to greet a crowd. The doors slammed open revealing the sidewalks interconnecting straight to the building itself. A few Police squads filled the area, since after all a "terror attack" did in fact happen earlier.

The two disembarked, the loud clanking and thuds of their suits gaining the attention of a few nearby officers. "Oh yo! Patriot!" One of the Officers shouted out to the pair as they began their way up. "I still owe you that beer for-"

"Hey hey hey, buddy. Would love to chat but we got a debrief in a few mins, I'll totally be down to talk to you about that drink though!" Patriot interrupted with a friendly reply, chuckling as he continued up past the Officers.

"Kurt. I really doubt this is just a simple debrief." Tesla grumbled.

"Nah, they're just prolly gonna talk about new drugs or equipment or some shit. Oh, or how we did such a fantastic job!" Patriot chuckled in response, a little bit of a venomous tone being detectable.

As the two made their way up the stairs they were met with multiple military personnel. Some armed, others in uniform. They offered the usual salutes to the pair before taking lead for them. Eventually coming up to the meeting room, one of the Officers sighing to the pair. "I'm not really supposed to talk to you guys, but I'm just gonna let you know. There's some important higher ups here today."

Tesla sighed at this little heads up. Clearly they were gonna bring up the poor performance of Tesla. Considering his compliance regulator going off most assuredly tipping off the Government that he was a bit of a naughty boy. After all he did more or less attack his handler and damage government property. Patriot on the other hand, just shrugged as he opened the doors for the pair. Saluting to everyone inside as they entered.

"Wonderful to see you all here today." Patriot audibly stated to his Superiors in a professional tone. "I'm proud to say the operation at the Reserve was a success. Even if there were... Hiccups." Patriot finished his sentence, glaring at Tesla for a good second. Venom in his eyes.

[Cybernetic Socialist Republics]

The celebration of their recent victory gave Maria an unprecedented level of joy. She never had the chance to hang around this many people with powers before. In fact, this could be where Maria could make her first friend! Although what she did back at the Reserve wasn't the best of first impressions. Not only that, Maria wasn't a spectacular cook and couldn't bring any spectacular dishes.

However, Maria figured what she can bring the table was significantly more valuable than food. Which was why when Maria was dropped off at the bowling alley with a cooler on wheels, she eagerly entered the premise to bring her gifts to her comrades. The smell of food tickled her nose and she wasted no time finding the table where TIAMA was at.

"HEEELLLLOOOOOO, my Ubermensch!!!!" Maria shouted, waving her hand while pulling the cooler with her other hand. "I've come bearing gifts for you all!"

Amalure immediately recognized the excited german voice promising gifts as that of Maria's, the one hero among those at the federal reserve that'd be able to distract her from her aim of annoying Icarus. From the first time she had been introduced to her file, Amalure was intriguied by the possibility of building a friendship with her. There was no other way to put it, a hero who's blood was all-healing, was a useful hero to have around and build trust with. It didn't matter to her how particularly ghoulish she might come across, as long Amalure could ensure that Maria was helping her, she'd consider her to be, by definition, heroic.

So Amalure put her food to the side, with the exceptiom of her slice of pizza, she kept eating as she headed over to Maria. Curious as to the nature of the gifts that she brought the group.

"Hey, you're Maria Ludwig, correct? We briefly met at the federal reserve bank, I'm Amalure Davis, or Ophiuchia, nice to see you here. Would you mind telling me about these 'gifts' that you've brought us?"

[Anowa]

New York City, Outside City Hall
The Patriot and Dr. Tesla
A debriefing awaits...

General Earl Greene was the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, an aging man, face wrinkled as one would expect, and completely bald at this point in his life. To his left sat two others at the table, Governor George Fairbanks, a middle aged, rotund man who had run for the New York seat under the Democratic party, a platform of avoiding Metahuman regulation had clinched the vote for many. Next to him was Mayor Lacey Coleman, a no nonsense individual who regularly found herself at odds with the non-regulatory platform of the state's Governor.

None of them looked even remotely amused.

General Greene spoke, "I'm taking time out of my day for an official performance review, and I'm met with the asinine proposition that what happened on Tuesday was a success. The Battle of Chancellorsville was a bigger success and we lost that battle, son."

Fairbanks took that moment to speak, donning his glasses and looking at the file set out before him. "Judging from the few images we managed to salvage from the CCTV in the reserve, it looks like you both miserably failed to apprehend a single individual. While we've granted leniency to TIAMA in that aspect as their actions prevented the reserve's destruction and managed to recover some of the stolen gold, your actions tell a much different story."

"As of current" continued Greene, "You have in excess of 7 people in this city associated with the first successful heist on any national reserve in the United States. Ever. You should consider yourselves lucky that it was only US gold that was taken, granted, 3% of out gold backing is gone, but at least we don't have to deal with a political shitstorm if we lost another nation's standard."

"Regardless." came the Mayor, "We have noticed that the good Doctor is to be commended for his attempt to limit collateral damage." the latter two words of the sentence coincided with a pointed look at patriot.

Greene spoke up, "I think what you're forgetting, Staff Sergeant Harrington, is that the primary goal of the United States is not to commit genocide on any and all criminals. Subduing a shop lifter is acceptable, shattering his right leg in it's entirety is not." a pause as he flipped a page, "That being said, it's clear that the compliance regulator is no longer deterrent on it's own. Nor is your presence, Patriot."

The Governor spoke up, "Which means you'll be getting a second watchman, Doctor. One who is notably less trigger happy, or easily overpowered by her own temper or... Physically. because the supersoldier shouldn't be so easily tackled." the man shook his head.

"That being said, this is a quarterly review, the first, of many. Another addition to what we're hoping to improve on your track record." a pause as she the trio pulled out a pen and flipped to blank sheets of paper, "So, Patriot, Doctor, how would you say your last 3 months have been performance wise?"

[Mandicoria]

-snip-

The Patriot sighed, an air of tenseness coming to him. "I wouldn't say it was very good, actually. Ma'am." He kept his eyes upon their superiors as he slowly relaxed. "Tesla not only did less than the minimal amount of effort in order to apprehend the Terr-... Criminals. As he just stood back with his tasers readied, and did not advance. This was repeated multiple times with other deployments."

"If you hadn't noticed, Kurt, I am prohibited from using any other force other than those very tasers. The offensive capabilities of my suit are very lethal if used." Tesla interjected, a noticeable tone of offense being present. "To give my opinion, Kurt here has been the worst possible individual to use as my handler. Let alone a terrible individual to use to fight crime. I understand the government's petty uses for "Super Soldiers", but quite frankly civilian hero work should not be one of those uses. He's better off being used as a brute deployed in the Middle East, or whatever crackpot dictatorship our wonderful President wants removed from the planet."

"Oh, is that your opinion Sparky?" Patriot turned his head, giving a glare over to Tesla.

"Name-calling is not going to make you look better in front of your superiors, Kurt. If you want to argue and waste their time further then you picked the wrong day." A hint of venom added onto Tesla's response before he turned his attention to the others. "To cut everything short, our performance has been very unsatisfactory."

[Anowa]

-snip-

Pens scrawled over paper, making note of the interactions between the two. If either could take the time to read the upside down notes, it didn't seem like they wrote down much. Reading between the lines, it seemed like much of this was already a forgone conclusion.

Green however, did close the meeting with a statement, "Normally, I'd be inclined to agree with your assessment on Patriot's use, however, more liberal sections of our government think that sending the Staff Sergeant overseas would exacerbate issues with foreign affairs, and frankly I'm outnumbered on that issue." a pause as he stood, followed by the others in the room. "That being said, you two are dismissed, you'll find your new addition waiting outside the room. And play nice, she's better connected than either of you."

The duo were escorted out by the duo of soldiers guarding the door, where they met a woman in a white and black patterned armor. The room smelled suspiciously of ozone, where previously such wasn't the case. The woman than proceeded to introduce herself, "Patriot, Doctor, I'm Gauss. I'm here to make sure you two don't fuck up again... I guess."

[Remnants of Exilvania]

New York City
Lucky Strike Manhattan
Hans

"A...M...R...L...R, alright, that's finished. Now you can actually get points for yourself. Bowl away!"

Having finished resetting the course, Hans looked through the bowling balls yet again, trying to see what to use. He decided to go with a 12 this time, noting that it was quite heavy but perhaps a heavier ball wouldn't veer off its course that much. And indeed, the ball went very straight when it was his turn to roll...straight into the Gutter though. Twice.

Well, that certainly wasn't to whatever little self-esteem he had left. But he argued that surely it was solely because of his lack of a dinner and that his hunger was making him suck so bad. Perhaps he should take a slice from that pizza now that his turn was over and he had to wait anyway.

But first it seemed that there were new guests and new introductions in order. Some black haired, winged person had appeared as well and much to Hans' pleasure brought even more drinks. He felt as though he had already seen her too...back at the Federal Reserve. Ah yes, those wings were hard to forget, he had watched her come out and fly away with someone in her arms. Clearly she had cared for the wounded in that situation, indicating that she had a tender and humble soul-

"I brought these because, no offense, I don't feel like choking down whatever cheap swill they serve here."

Okay, he shouldn't judge people so quickly, besides, this was just an isolated incident. And her staring at the pizzas as though they were literally piles of shit was probably because she was vegan or something like that. Probably. Everyone was entitled to their own opinion and Hans decided that it was too early to have an opinion of the newcomer yet. So instead he came forward and tried offering his hand for a handshake...but another newcomer with a literal pile of fast food distracted him for a moment. A good lad, clearly, having gone above and beyond what was necessary for him to do. He decided to memorize his name and appearance. Chris was clearly going to be a pretty good teammate if anything.

In that short time that he had been distracted though, the blonde doll Amalure had apparently gotten temporarily bored of bowling and instead seemed to act a bit...confrontational with the newcomer. Fully understandable really, as the newcomer's attitude was...well...Hans would not judge yet but he could understand if other people judged more harshly. He'd have to smooth that over so he approached Zinnia with a wide smile and an outstretched smile, introducing himself:

"Good evening Fräulein. I am Hans, TIAMA sponsored hero and the one who had the idea for hosting this small get-together. Please don't take Fräulein Amalure's words too badly, I am sure she will appreciate you much more once she sees you in action. But please, introductions first, apologies second. So, I am Hans and who are you?"

Before he could interact much more with her aside from hearing her answer, someone shouting in the bowling center caught his attention. Both because she was shouting and because of the terminology she was using. Looking in that direction, Hans could see the dreaded girl, the strange doctor who had caused him to flee the scene at the Federal Reserve. However, this time he was somewhat prepared and atleast she wasn't doing anything provocative...well...aside from shouting Übermensch. And she was offering gifts, an act that got her some plus points with him again as he assumed she had realized that she had done something rather controversial at the Federal Reserve and would try to make it up with gifts for now. Certainly a good act but for the moment he didn't feel like talking to her or greeting her. Luckily, Amalure seemed to take over for him on that front so he didn't have to deal with that too much.

Feeling slightly sick now, Hans decided to sit down for a little and eat and drink rather than engage in further conversation with Zinnia. His nerves were already fluttering a little again. These were so many people, trying to somewhat take care of them all put quite some stress onto him. Coupled with the doc's appearance, he really needed that small break so he sat down next to Chris, grabbed a few chips and one of the Pepsis John and Emma had brought before leaning back and quietly enjoying both of them.

"Why would you look at that. Are you trying to make friends, 'Hans'? That's cute, really. It's just going to make it all the more painful when you lose them..."

Hans froze as he heard the familiar voice. Impossible, not here, not now. Absolutely impossible. And yet, when he slowly turned his head to look at Chris, he saw the nazi again, having assumed the exact same pose as Chris, holding the exact same beer in his hand.

"You!"

, Hans tried to shout it but he felt as though he was lacking air so it came out much quieter than he had intended. The nazi on the other hand took a sip from the beer before wiping some leftover beer from his mouth with the back of his gloved hand.

"Yes, I. Aren't you happy to see me again? Come on, give Papa a hug."

The nazi opened his arms as though actually expecting an actual hug from him. But Hans did nothing of the sort, instead just staring at the man in his black uniform, occasionally casting glances at the swastika armband on his arm. He uttered:

"How...? How can you be here? How are you not dead?!?"

The nazi lowered his arms in disappointment, pouting with his wrinkled old face as he said:

"Aw, no hug for Papa? Why am I not dead? Ah, you do know I cheated death once already? Well, more than once really. Another is really not that big of a deal."

Oh, of course Hans knew. This man had been executed for warcrimes at Nuremberg and yet he had walked the earth for decades thereafter. Still, he had thought that the man was really, truly gone which was why the scientists had started acting all strange and on their own towards the end of his life as a labrat. But still, the answer didn't quite satisfy him so he made a gesture with his arm, encompassing all the heroes gathered here and asked again:

"I repeat, how can you be here? How is it that they are not seizing you this instant?"

The nazi shrugged before saying:

"Eh, when you spend as much time in the shadows as I did, you start learning a few tricks to practically disappear from the sight of others. Like I am about to disappear from yours!"

Suddenly Hans saw the nazi's fist fly towards his face, he brought up his arms but knew they were never going to be there in time and reflexively closed his eyes to await the incoming punch.

But the punch never came. Hans slowly brought his arms down and blinked in confusion. Everything looked normal. Nothing had changed. Even Chris was-wait Chris was sitting where the bloody nazi had been sitting just before! Had he just talked to Chris the entire time? Oh fuck, Chris was probably super confused by all of this. Hans chuckled nervously before apologetically saying to Chris:

"Uhm, I am sorry, did I just doze off? Did I do anything funny?"

It was an absolutely paperthin excuse...but hey, better to try and make up an excuse than to say you are projecting a dead man into your environment.