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March 7, 2015 

WYRM's move to the DeWitt Building had gone well. The new suburban location put the kids in a safe, secure location where they wouldn't be tempted by anything unwholesome in the neighborhood. The nearest restaurant was the Subway across the street, next to the big medical complex, and they were a good twenty-minute walk from the nearest bus station (faster if you had superpowers, of course). The worst trouble they could get into was the tobacco store in the strip mall down at the very end of the street, right where Ashton became unincorporated territory. But the kids were well-supervised - and the old hippie who ran the place knew to keep an eye out for them. 

 

WYRM had stayed busy over the last few months, pitching in to help out during the Communion invasion and other crises around Freedom City, doing the subtle work that made sure many of the civilians around the city noticed them and their good efforts, even if they still weren't on the radar of most super-teams yet. "That's okay," the kids were always reassured, "we're doing this work to set the world up for great things - not to make ourselves famous." It was a little frustrating the more glory-minded among them, but they all knew they had bright futures ahead of them. 

 

On the morning of March 7, Rampart was out patrolling in the area when the special WYRM communicator they'd given her during her last happy visit chimed. Something was going on that required her special services. 

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The Glamazon was a familiar sight around the West End.  The Claremont teen actually tended to frequently base her patrols around Lantern Hill.  Due in part to the fact that her knowledge on magical was one of the few knowledge bases she was wholly confident on.  But, even when dealing with street crime her normal opposition was far from mundane.  Like the Gorilla Gang that bothered her to no end.
 
As such, she rarely found herself as far West as Ashton.  The neighborhood was as quiet as could be by her estimation.  Which meant there were a lot fewer issues that called for someone willing to any problem head on.  Thaelia knew to play to her strengths.  And suburban neighborhood was not amongst those strengths.
 
This morning was set to be like any other.  In which the Glamazon would have been seen punching foes in various states of ow.  If not for the fact that the Claremont Senior had made the leap to read the morning paper.  There was an add for an autograph signing session from  wrestlers of the UWL.  While the  Atlantean couldn't figure out how to work her television with any degree of consistency.  Since being on the surface she had rarely missed a UWL performance.
 
As of late the organization had been less active.  Apparently Julius Norman's health had been in a questionable state.  As  she stood in a crowd with a number of other fans.  Thaelia couldn't help but notice a few of the local residents turning their nose to the crowd.  Likely not liking the noise they were producing.  With Thaelia shouting "Raaaampage" as loud as the rest of the crowd when ever someone stirred the pot by asking the question "What do we want?".   A reference to the mighty powerhouse wrestler Rampage Robinson.

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Things had kept Cho away from the WYRM team recently. Mostly the fact that her 'team loyalty' had been split and Cho only had so much time she could afford to a single team. Surely the image of a superhero in multiple team seemed like logical at a first glance, in reality it wasn't all that manageable to be doing so many things in addition to studies, work, familly and random on-and-off strange things that came with the work.

 

After receiving the message from the WYRM, Cho headed out to see what was going on. Presumably something was going on again.

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Why was Terrifica in the Ashton and Grenville area? The exact same reason she ever went anywhere that wasn’t home, a university, or a science conference. She was investigating. Or rather, she had been until about twenty minutes ago. People don’t change. Just a whisper of a free fortune, even if the method to get it is highly illegal, always brought out the worst in them. They will lie, cheat, and even murder if it proves necessary. She was standing in front of a garage. The door was open, and it’s walls were plastered with plans, diagrams, and maps. There was no need for her to act. Behind her, a policeman was shoving the handcuffed occupant of the attached home into his squad car. A police detective walked past her, into the garage, and remarked upon the intricacy of the plan. Almost the perfect scam. “Not really, detective. It took me about five seconds to figure it out.†Of course, her mind was a great deal faster than most peoples. That said, she was over selling it. Her total deductive time didn’t even total a full second, much less five. “I learn as much from what’s not there as from what is there. The trick this time was proving it.†That was a fact. Solving the mystery, cracking the code, or whatever you wanted to call it was never finished, in Terrifica’s view, until one could objective prove that one had done so. “I’m going to go. There’s much to be done today. You have my contact information. Please pass it along to the prosecutor. I would like to know when I need to be in court.†She turned on her heel and walked to her motorcycle. Starting it, she rode away leaving a wryly amused detective. Superheroes, especially the smart ones. Was he right, or was he right?

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When William Cline wanted to clear his head or get some fresh air, he ran. Now, for most folks, that would involved sweaty jogging for an hour or maybe two, with a total distance in the single-digit miles, unless they were one of the top tier of world athletes. And even they took it easy when it was just a morning run on a nice Saturday. Then again, none of those people were capable of casually breaking the sound barrier on foot at the drop of a hat. William Cline, or Thoughtspeed as he considered himself when in costume (and it wasn't an emergency so he was definitely in costume), was more than up to the task of doing a couple laps around the city and then beginning to work his way down major thoroughfares in the various districts. 

 

At the moment, he was zipping down along one of the main drags in Ashton and Greenville, his speed and reaction time meaning he was easily avoiding the cars and people who looked like they were moving in slow-motion through cold molasses. He'd stop a purse-snatching and saved three people from tripping into the street so far, and even taken the time to slow down and help a sweet elderly couple across the street. They'd tried to offer him money but he'd managed to politely refuse and excuse himself. 

 

All in all it was a pretty good day so far.

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Phantasmo, THE UNLIVING, was far away from his usual haunt, so was moseying. He was a natural mosier, he mused to himself as he strolled down the boulevard, idly whistling a tuneless little ditty. This was the life, true enough...good, clean, fresh air, exotic new beers for him to sample, and the fact that he'd stopped a mugger a few minutes earlier put a spring in his step. 

 

"...Ooh, what's this then?" He asked himself as he spotted the colorfully garbed speedster known as Thoughtspeed booking it along the lane. He hadn't actually MET many of the other superfolks living in the grand old Freedom City, so why not start introducing himself? 

 

He raised a hand to Thoughtspeed as the young man zipped by. "Greetings and salutations, fellow basher of the skulls of vicious sods who prey on the unfortunate and innocent civilians of Freedom City!  Mind if old Phantasmo the Unliving - that's me, by the way - asks where you're going in such a hurry?"  The  chatty zombie gave a cheerful grin and tipped his elegant top hat to the younger man. 

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Rampart arrived at the DeWitt Building within a few minutes of getting the signal, conscious as she went of a growing number of police sirens in the neighborhood. There seemed to be a lot of emergency police activity today, the various heroes in the area noticed, all of it heading directly for the DeWitt Building, a three-story office tower at the very edge of Ashton proper. The frosted glass doors emblazoned with the new WYRM logo and full name - World Youth Rescue Movement were closed. But looking closely at them, Cho could make out a single bloody handprint on the glass from the other side. 

 

Ripping open the locked doors revealed a scene out of a horror movie - except this one was all too real! Lola, the smiling South Asian woman who usually sat behind the reception desk, was lying on the floor beside her desk still and unmoving in a pool of blood, the security monitors she watched flickering frantically - and beside it was Miles Musenda's cybernetic eye, and part of the head that had once held it. A trail of blood led upwards, towards the rooms where the rest of the students lived. 

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Phantasmo, THE UNLIVING, was far away from his usual haunt, so was moseying. He was a natural mosier, he mused to himself as he strolled down the boulevard, idly whistling a tuneless little ditty. This was the life, true enough...good, clean, fresh air, exotic new beers for him to sample, and the fact that he'd stopped a mugger a few minutes earlier put a spring in his step. 

 

"...Ooh, what's this then?" He asked himself as he spotted the colorfully garbed speedster known as Thoughtspeed booking it along the lane. He hadn't actually MET many of the other superfolks living in the grand old Freedom City, so why not start introducing himself? 

 

He raised a hand to Thoughtspeed as the young man zipped by. "Greetings and salutations, fellow basher of the skulls of vicious sods who prey on the unfortunate and innocent civilians of Freedom City!  Mind if old Phantasmo the Unliving - that's me, by the way - asks where you're going in such a hurry?"  The  chatty zombie gave a cheerful grin and tipped his elegant top hat to the younger man. 

 

Few people ever seem to grasp just how fast a speedster can move, and how fast their perceptions are. So by the time Phantasmo has gotten to the second syllable of the word "greetings", Thoughtspeed has already run past, at a pace roughly equal to a fighter jet just barely below the sound barrier. He'd seen the raised hand and the rather distinctive appearance of Phantasmo, though, so the macabre magician would see the black-and-green blur speed a bit down the street before turning, running up the side of a building, and making a quick turn-around.

 

By the time Phantasmo was saying "that's me", the lithe speedster in a black bodysuit with glowing green highlights was standing there, looking more like a morning jogger than a superhero as he went through a couple stretches and bounced in place on his feet every now and then. Of course, that smooth, featureless helmet made his appearance a bit odder still, but all things considered he was positively mundane next to Phantasmo.

 

"I'm taking a morning run. It's a beautiful day, man. Just 'cause I'm a speedster doesn't mean I don't need exercise, you know? Anything I can help you with, ah, Phantasmo, wasn't it?"

 

His helmeted head turned as a cop car and an ambulance sped by in rapid succession. His nervous energy ceased then, and he seemed to be focusing on the movement of the emergency services vehicles.

 

"Hm. That's weird."

Edited by KnightDisciple
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Phantsmo paused from his greeetings (sic), also seeing the ambulance and police car whizzing by. "...Doooh, hell, and I so wanted to actually RELAX today," he grumbled. "Ah, sod it - If I wanted rest and relaxation I would have STAYED dead." 

 

He turned to Thoughtspeed. "RIght, seems like a bit of goings-on, eh, duckie? Shall we go investigate, then?" He placed his hat back on his head and vanished in a puff of red smoke without waiting for an answer. It was rude, he was aware, but someone could be hurt; best to help now, apologize for rudeness later.

Edited by MisterShoebox
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As soon as she spotted the blood, Cho froze in place completely. She stood there for a moment, filled with dread, before ripping open the doors and going inside, only to find yet more blood. Slowly, she walked into the building, horrified at what she was likely to find. Her suspicions were correct as she found the woman seemingly dead behind the reception desk. "No. No no no....oh sh**. Sh*** this is bad. Hello? Anyone?" The girl shouted. Not the brightest course of action if the assassin was still around. "K-Kiiatsu? Brainclay?" She asked, trying to get someone through the communicator. "Miles? Aby? Come on, please tell me the situation's been...um...well uh..." She swallowed nervously, looking at the corpse. "...dealt with."

 

Then she saw the cybernetic eye and what was seemingly part of Miles' head. "O-oh...I should p-p-probaby call b-backups?" She said, still talking into the communicator in hopes someone was actually listening but the odds of that were getting slimmer by the moment. Unable to keep herself in control, Cho felt her head spin as she crashed against the reception desk. Grunting, she pulled herself back up but unfortunately she couldn't keep her lunch.

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Terrifica pulled over and let a police car and a ambulance scream past her in the other direction. And there goes my morning with the children. Another mystery beckoned, the siren call irresistible to her. She pulled into the nearest driveway and turned around. Regardless of what’s actually happened, seeing them in such a panic is…concerning, especially in this neighborhood. She didn’t like it, not at all. Police cars were one thing, that could happen anywhere at any time, but with an ambulance? It was a bad sign. Very, very bad. As Terrifica sped after the official vehicles, she did something she rarely indulged in. She prayed.

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Thaelia heard the whirring of the ambulance siren as it rushed by.  It was worth ignoring  Emergency medical services had a job to do.  And years ago Thaelia had realized it wasn't often that lone ambulance calls did not need her on the scene.  Then came the police sirens.  That, however, was her cue.  The Atlantean tore the wrestling fan t-shirt off her torso.  Revealing the armored toga style dress underneath that was not hidden in the slightest.

 

"Officers blue and bold, you shall have the Glamazon's sword!"  Thaelia calle out before jumping, as in literally jumping a ludicrous distance,  away from the crowd.  Taking off into a dead sprint she would easily keep the pace with the vehicles.  Eager to find out what they were responding to, her original plans easily pushed to the back of her mind.

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When the magic-using zombie guy disappeared in the dramatic burst of red smoke, Thoughtspeed just sighed and shook his head.

 

"And I thought that Set guy was over-dramatic."

 

With that proclamation, and a silent observation that he was glad his helmet was even partly sealed against the odd smell that smoke likely put out, he turned and gauged the direction the emergency vehicles were heading in, spotting the shining building several blocks away. He recognized the logo, faintly. 

 

"Great."

 

With that, he was a blur racing the streets once more, only this time, he was moving with a purpose beyond exercise. 

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The sound of sirens screaming into the vacant lot behind her told Rampart she wasn't alone - at least not outside. But who knew what horrors might be waiting for her upstairs, horrors that might once have been her friends? 

 

All the heroes arriving on scene were familiar with the World Youth Rescue Movement. What they'd heard was that it was a private training program for young superheroes, a bit like some programs in Freedom City, one particularly active with charitable work and rescue work in the last few months. They were, as far as anyone had ever heard, a completely harmless organization. 

 

As Terrifica was the most reliable-looking adult hero on the scene, the police wound up speaking to her (after shooting a cautious look at Phantasmo) from their cordon around the building. "That's fast!" declared Officer Anderson, the lead patrolman on the scene. "Damn! We just got a call in about gunshots and explosions in the DeWitt Building. League must have sent you over quick. Anyway, it's standard protocol - we've made a cordon around the building and not letting anyone in. Somebody got in just before we got here, though, right when we were pulling in. I think it was, uh..." 
 

"Rampart!" said Andersen's partner. "You know, the T-uh, baby. I saw her on the news. Yeah, she was the one who went in there." 

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They think I’m with the Freedom League? That’s…adorable, considering how many heroes there are in this city. Still, it would be rude to correct them. A very pleased looking Terrifica addressed the officers. “I was in the area on other business, actually. I saw you enroute and followed.†She glanced around, taking stock of Thoughtspeed, Glamazon, and Phantasmo. While possessed of some curiosity towards the two males, she did not look forward to the reunion with the overly loud and far too impulsive Atlantean. “Let those three past. They are heroes, if not quite of the expected age or appearance. If any other heroes show up, please inform them of the situation and permit them to enter as well. Otherwise, keep everyone else out for the moment. I’ll be going in.†She spun on her heel and walked through the doors and into the facility. And stopped. Bad. Very, very bad. Her good mood vanished, to be replaced by legitimate anger. Massacred. Young lives carelessly wasted. She swore viciously in Mandarin at the person or persons responsible, insulting everything from their parentage to their personal grooming habits. “Rampart? Are you in here?†And still capable of answering me?
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Thoughtspeed had made it past the cordon and was actually about to say something to the police when the bossy lady in an armored suit started talking like she owned the place. Then she didn't even try to coordinate with the rag-tag group they had here or anything!

 

'Geeze she's got a lot of nerve, acting like she's the only hero here or something. I know she's not League; she's not on the flashcards Mom and Dad make me memorize, and she's not an Atom.'

 

The last bit was thought with a slight sense of relief. The sight of his boisterous classmate from Atlantis being on-scene helped buoy his confidence and mood a bit, and the zombie magician dude seemed friendly if a bit eccentric. Hopefully between the three of them they could keep Bossy Lady from messing it up too bad.

 

So Thoughtspeed put his brain to work, sending a mental message to Glamazon while having a verbal conversation with the cops.

 

--Psst. Hey, Glam, it's me, Thoughtspeed, in the black and green next to the cops. Listen, whoever that lady who just stormed in there is she's probably going to make a mess of things. If Cho's in there we have a better shot of talking her down or calming her down or helping her and believing her, whatever. Get the zombie magic dude to come in with you and we'll try to sort this out without Bossy Lady getting punched out a window by Cho.--

 

Thaelia could tell the thought wasn't entirely terrible to Will but he objected to the idea on principle. Meanwhile, his physical mouth was talking to the cops.

 

"Officers, my name's Thoughtspeed. I know Rampart; she's a fellow hero, and she works with the folks in the Rescue Movement. Some of them are a bit odd but they're good folks. Whatever's going on in there, we'll try to help sort it out. But you should probably put a call in to the League; none of us here are with them. I was, ah, just on my morning run when I saw the commotion. I'm here to help, though. Me and the others will do our best. Look, I can talk to folks with my brain; if things get bad in there I'll give you guys a shout."

 

Without waiting for a response, Thoughtspeed was a blur of green-and-black motion as he sped into the building, his eyes going wide behind his helmet as he took in the carnage. He said a couple Yiddish words his mother was probably going to scrub his mouth out for later, and then turned to Terrifica.

 

"Hey, lady, I don't know who you are, but if there's other heroes on-scene it's considered polite to try and coordinate with them."

 

Meanwhile, his mental voice reached out as gently as possible, trying to find Cho and speak to her.

 

--Cho? Cho, you there? Look, I know we're not, like, best friends or anything, but it's me, Will. **** Cho, just tell me you're alive and okay. Then let me know where you are. It's okay, I'm here to help, all right?--

 

He hoped his rocky relationship with her wouldn't make this worse...

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Terrifica had removed her longcoat and slung it over a shoulder, leaving her utility belt in plain view. She was crouching down to look over the South Asian woman lying in a pool of blood. As she spoke, she arose and took a look at the security camera monitors. She spoke as if her mind was elsewhere, which at thish point it most certainly was. “Is that before or after someone dies because we had to take a minute to get on the same page?†She blinked and looked right at Thoughtspeed, now paying attention. “My apologies, my mind was elsewhere. That, and well, this scene and what it means for the interior. I did intend to coordinate with you, once we were all inside. I went first because I’ve worked with Glamazon, and I would not use the words subtle or cautious to describe her.â€

She watched the flicking screens. “Until I made an initial assessment of the situation, I could do without her presence.†Well. That, and I find it very hard, to let children walk into danger before I do. Whether that has something to do with having children of my own is something to think over later. “You’re Thoughtspeed, aren’t you? My name is Terrifica. You’re a Claremont student, aren’t you? Do you know Nevermore? I’ve worked with him as well. Not much of a talker, but very good at what he does.â€

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Not one to waste time, Phantasmo simply told the policemen "I'm with them, duckies!" and 'ported into the building (but not before leaving business cards with the no doubt very confused police officers.) 
 
Phantasmo swore loudly when he saw the massacred body, blood everywhere, etcetera. "[VERY BAD WORDS],".  He walked over to the remains of poor Lola and bent down, hmmming. "...That's....my God..." 
 
For once, the normally erudite zombie was at a loss for words. Only briefly, however. "...I haven't seen anything like this since that bastard with the gasoline can was setting the local vagabond group ablaze...but that bugger was at least drunk off his arse most of the time - this...I don't even have a word for this, duckies." 
 
He 'ported up to the other heroes and gave them the once-over before bowing smartly. "Sorry, bit rude of me, coming in, not even introducing myself." He took off his hat and rolled it down his arm to catch it in his hand.
 
"Phantasmo, the UNLIVING, at your service."  He paused, then looked apologetic. "Sorry, I know this isn't the time for theatrics...So,  my dearie!" he looked over to Rampart. "Are you the one who found these poor people? Didn't happen to see any clues or anything of that nature, did you?" He conjured  up a small coin and rotated it around his fingers in thought.
Edited by MisterShoebox
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Cho had fared better. Much, much better.

 

It seemed that the members of the World Youth Rescue Movement had been killed before she even arrived. Presumably that call was one of them trying to contact her, being the only member who was outside of the building during the incident. Either that or they were already dead before even sending a message. That was even more terrifying but right now she had bigger problem. First off, it seemed the police was there. Second and most urgent, she was wobbling around in shock 'Dead? Dead. What but how who did this why? How did they kill every single one of them?' She thought to herself. 'That makes no sense, agh...' The girl fell on her knees, clutching her arm. Her heart was pounding from the shock. Her head was feeling as if it was splitting apart. Her powers were about to go haywire. Not that she had an understanding or control of them that was this good to begin with. Orange-red light glowed from her arm, illuminating the shape of her skeleton underneath, while sparks and smokes erupted from her body. "Oh no no no not the good time for a freakshow."

 

--Cho? Cho, you there? Look, I know we're not, like, best friends or anything, but it's me, Will. **** Cho, just tell me you're alive and okay. Then let me know where you are. It's okay, I'm here to help, all right?--

 

He hoped his rocky relationship with her wouldn't make this worse...

 

'N-no. It-It's not all right, they're dead. All of them. I-I couldn't do anything, no, please no you I don't want to hear you admonish me. I didn't do anything!' Her mental voice sounded completely broken, as close as a mental voice could sound to someone breaking into sobbing. Things hadn't always worked out perfectly with the WYRM, but their sudden death had seriously broken her spirit. Especially at the fact she couldn't even do a single thing to prevent it. 'I didn't d-'
 

 

"Phantasmo, the UNLIVING, at your service."  He paused, then looked apologetic. "Sorry, I know this isn't the time for theatrics...So,  my dearie!" he looked over to Rampart. "Are you the one who found these poor people? Didn't happen to see any clues or anything of that nature, did you?" He conjured  up a small coin and rotated it around his fingers in thought.

 

'H-hold on I what who is this wha...' Her train of thought and communication was cut from Thoughtspeed when the one called Phantasmo arrived, only to find Cho on her knees, currently holding her uncontrolled powers barely in check, the floor slowly cracking under the strain of barely-held back entropy. "Wha- w-who are you?! WHO ARE YOU?!" She shouted, not trusting an unfamilliar figure. As she shouted, the uncontrolled powers sparked around her.

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--You're right, I'm sorry. It's not all right, not yet. This isn't your fault, Cho. Please, we're here to help, just keep talking, I'm going to come over--

 

And then Phantasmo managed to completely freak her out. In a blur of motion, Thoughtspeed was in front of Cho, crouched down to eye level. The other heroes were treated to the sight of his slightly curly black hair being exposed as his helmet folded away. 

 

Phantasmo briefly heard a voice in his mind that sounded just like the boy.

--Dude she's in shock, back off! Give me and Glamazon space, Rampart knows us better.--

Then the "line" cut off. 

 

Glamazon got a quick "tell" next.

--Glam, get over here, now. I'm trying to calm her down but if she starts to blow we may need to drag her further away or something. Bossy Lady and Zombie Man are just going to freak her out more; Cho knows us, at least.--

 

Finally his mental voice switched to talking only to Rampart, sounding as soothing as possible. 

--Cho, Cho! Hey, look at me. Look at me, Cho. Focus on me. Just me. Not the weird zombie guy. Just me. Cho, you have to calm down a bit. This whole thing is weird and stupid and it sucks, but you have to breath. Come on. Breath with me.--

Thoughtspeed began slightly exaggerated breathing that nonetheless set a much calmer, more controlled pace than Cho's current panic.

--In. Out. In. Out. That's it, Cho. I'm here. You're here. Just breath. Calm down, and breath.--

 

Panic was dangerous right now.

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Phantasmo realized that his actions may have been unwise. Emotionally distraught woman, vast power, clearly holding back explosive rage...yeeeeah, time to try not being theatrical or anything like that. Just straightforward.

 

The zombie held up his hands in a disarming gesture. "Right, miss - let's calm down, all right? M'name's Harry G. Trent. I was born in London in '49, I like a drink, I like a good steak, and I'm friends with Fast Forward. You know Fast Forward, right? Fast chap, mum was a crook 'fore she went straight? Wife's got psychic abilities, etcetera?" 

 

He moved very slowly away from her - not leaving, but giving her her space. "See? No need for this to get violent. I'm moving away, right? There we go...nice and calm..." he said. 

 

"Look, I was following this chap - " He jerked his head to Thoughtspeed. "And was wondering how I could help. Let's all be nice and calm...it's all right..." 

 

Is he coming off as condescending? HOpefully not. But he really, REALLY didn't want to explode. He'd been dismembered before - catching his body when his head isn't attached is a right BITCH, and he really didn't relish the hassle exploding would put him through. Good grief. 

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"You think I didn't try that?!" Cho shouted. She tried to breathe in but nothing could seem to make the build up dissapear, to no avail. The initial shock had activated her most destructive powers and it just didn't seem to want to go away. "You know what comes out when it fires..." The girl said to Thoughtspeed. As if to confirm, the glow and sparks were soon joined by eerie red and black outerwordly crackles surrounding her.

 

"Please, g-get back I want you no harm!"

Edited by RobRX
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Glamazon exhaled as she took in the mental tells Thoughtspeed had been sending her.  She had a limited understanding of how WYRM worked.  But, she did know Cho was in some way affiliated.  That meant the Atlantean had to steel herself before entering.  There was no way her occasional sparring partner would be in the right mindset after whatever happened in there.  With her resolve set the Atlantean charged with blinding speed inside.
 
Terrifica, Thoughtspeed, and Rampart were of course familiar faces.  The Zombie man not so much.  The corpses especially not.  The Atlantean looked at the strange decaying creature and clenched her fist.  Relaxing upon remembering Wander's warning about attacking a monstrosity without warning.  Especially when Will's message did not seem to make the zombie a threat.
 
Moving in front of the decaying creature Thaelia spoke out.  Completely ignoring the crackly display of energy the Atlantean simply spoke out to her underclassman.  "Worry not.  You are amongst friends.  The Daughter of the Seas is not so fragile that you need concern yourself with such precautions." As curious as she was about what had occured in the office. It was more of a priority to make sure Cho calmed down.

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Terrifica slid her longcoat back on, and the hem bounced jerkily as it fell to its full length. She had a unreadable look on her face. She did not move from her spot. Her voice showed no hint of fear. In fact, there was much of a mother’s kindness in it. “It’s unpleasant, isn’t it? Pain. Confusion. Anger. Fear. All of it, mixed together. It’s more than one person should be able to handle. I don’t know you. I don’t know anything about you. I’m not going to tell you to calm down. Who could, in this room? What I do know is that you have two people standing there who believe in you. Who believe in your strength. Who believe you would never hurt them. Who, even if would cost them their lives, would not leave you alone in this terrible room.†She smiled wistfully. “It must be nice, to have such good friends.â€

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Thoughtspeed's mind raced. Cho was on the verge of losing control of her powers. And that would be bad. Between all the heroes here, maybe they could, perhaps, get her somewhere where it was safe to "blow". But that would leave them well away from the scene of the crime, and delay them in possibly stopping whatever psycho is killing kid heroes. So instead, he decided to take a risk.

 

His next thought-speak was heard by Cho and Thaelia.

 

--Cho, look at me. Come one, stay with me, Cho. Let me help you. I can help you. Let me link our minds. I keep my own powers leashed every second of every minute of every day, did you know that? My brain just does it automatically, these days, but I used to have to work to not spout out gouts of kinetic energy and smash my toys or bed. Never did tell you that, did I? Well, the point is, maybe I can help you, Cho. Let me help you control this. If you don't think you can leash it yourself, let me help you tie it down.--

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