Russoboo

"It's not the just the katana, like, it's playing into the whole dangerous woman vibe. Not so dangerous that they might go off and try to kill you, but a little bit." Darren put a hand on a table next to him and leaned back on his arm. He waved away her concern with the other and lolled his shoulder. "That part's maybe a little harder. If you come on too strong, you become the interloper. Too weak, you won't get taken seriously. You may need to either play the long game or accept defeat and get over it, cause, like, the last thing you want to do is start drama." He pushed himself away from the table and turned in a neat circle. "Something demure and innocent, like, 'you know, Subito, I really wish I could find a good guy like you'." Darren clasped his hands together over his chest and fawned at a nearby mannequin. "The right amount of possibility with the least amount of force."

Notice Check: Notice (1d20+7=8) And failed.

Adamas Initiative: Initiative (1d20+2=22) Can't possibly make those knowledge checks.

"Kat, don't worry, I only get more attractive when I talk. It's like, what should I say, it's like fatal attraction. But I'm sure you'll figure it out." Darren gave her a little smile and went back to the belts he was playing with. He settled on a black leather with dull rivets and looped it around his arm. "Ninja girlfriend, huh? The good news is that, like, I'm pretty sure cutting you with a magic sword is illegal and totally against school rules. Bad news, obviously, is that she's a ninja and boys love ninjas. Like, really, I think I'm falling in love with this mystery girl already." He moved towards Kat and swiped something from a nearby rack - a red shirt with faded bolts of lightning in a sweep up the front. Darren held it at arm's length, blocked it over Kat's current clothes and judged her with one eye shut in concentration. "There's a few things you should, like, consider here. First is that complicated isn't always bad and second is that complicated isn't always avoidable. I mean, like, don't make things so tangled you can't manage them, but you've gotta be willing to play on hard mode every once in awhile." He turned the hanger over to Kat so she could judge the shirt for herself. "And I'm not, like, recommending you go out and try to seduce a guy already in a relationship, but does he even know you're an option? The worst thing you could do is not give him a fair choice, right?"

"What can I say, you're pretty bad at lying. Not every student can surpass the master." Darren closed his eyes for an instant, wistful, and then the expression was gone and he was back to strolling down the street. At last, he came to a wide store front with its wide front windows full of mannequins dressed in all manner of designer labels. He let himself in and held the door long enough for Kat to follow after him. After taking a few seconds to admire a nearby jacket, he looked back at Kat and laughed. "Like, I'm not going to argue about him being attractive, how totally completely pointless can you get? Even if I lied and said he wasn't, would that convince you otherwise? And I'm sure he looks good in whatever lame boardshorts he's got. I hear that, like, being a superhero is a pretty good work out." He gave her a blink and wagged a finger. "But, like, really, if I crushed on every attractive person I'd met, I'd have died of heartbreak by the time I was eight. It's been a glamorous life, you know. Subito is great, but let's not project too hard here, Katie." Darren lifted a shirt off a rack and ran the smooth material through his fingers. "I'm going to, like, go out on a limb and assume you haven't told him. Why not?"

"Really?" Darren cast Kat a sideways look and slid his phone into the palm of his hand. He started to thumb through menus and directories absently as he hummed low. "I forgot that you're kind of new to Claremont or whatever. You might not know too many people, right? So the few people you've talked to, like, they would really stick in your mind. Or if he was the first, it could leave an impression or something." Darren snickered and let out a derisive snort. "Even I can't say something like that with a straight face. I try to avoid diamond puns since it's so passe to banter, but, like, you're so transparent, Kat." He stopped at the corner, turning from Kat long enough to push a crosswalk signal. "Honesty is the best policy, or something like that, so be honest about having a crush on him." A shrug. "Though I'd be pretty embarrassed to have a crush on Subito, too."

"Really? Freedom has its charms, but it's, like, awfully quaint if you're not a fan of imminent danger. It's more like a bugzapper for super villains than, like, a bastion of culture." Darren laughed in a directionless way, not really at Kat but clearly not strictly with her either. He continued to chuckle to himself until he heard Kat's question. Darren stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and turned to face the other mutant, but she wasn't looking at him. A smirk crept over his features before he resumed his walk down Broadway. "Do I know Subito? I mean, like, we're in the same classes, so I know of him, sure." He rolled his hands through the air. "But do I know him, like, for real for real? Maybe, do I know him in a biblical way? I guess there is a certain appeal to squat, swarthy Latinos, isn't there?" Darren laughed again, but a little quieter than before. He ran a thumb under his eye. "I could say that I don't know him as well as I'd like to. Why do you ask?"

Darren crossed his arms over his chest, looked from Edge to Morgan and then back again. He bit his crystalline tongue while Morgan gave his own terse reply, then opened his mouth to speak. "We've all had a bad day, like, I almost died not even five minutes ago, but I really don't care who you are or what kind of power you've got, the whole 'I could kill you if I wanted to' proof is some mighty weak sauce if that's what you want to lead with. You're right, it's so arrogant even I'm a little ashamed of you. And forgive us a bit of reasonable caution after a freaking terror attack." Darren puffed out his chest and felt a bit of angry flush that thankfully didn't show up on his faceted skin. "But we also really don't have time for this, so, like, if Crow thinks it's fine, then whatever, it is. Let's go stop some more bombs already." He huffed, not so much a curtailing of his anger, but rather an agreement to shelve it for a later date. Darren spun on his crystal board and started flying for the gym, still grumbling as he pulled away from the group.

Once Kat was situated, Darren gave her a quick look, then lowered the makeshift elevator. He tried to go slowly, though he was so used to moving around on diamonds that he could hardly tell if it would be comfortable for Kat. When the platform touched down in an alley, Darren swung his legs over the short railing, stood straight, and snapped his fingers - the giant diamond vanished without even a parting pop. Darren headed for the street with his hands stuffed in his coat pockets. He was a bit overdressed for winter in California, but it was manageable. "Of course. I've been, like, everywhere. Well, everywhere with some class. Lived in New York, LA, there was that summer in France, like, daytrips to Florida. If it's shopping, then, like, Japan is pretty much the best, but I don't know the language too well, so it can get kinda sketch." Darren paused too look at the address numbers and get his bearings, then turned towards the 500 block. "Hard to get out of the country from Claremont, like, getting a jet can be a hassle. I'm sure you've been more places than me, though, you just have to, like, think about it and then there you are, right?"

Darren looked over his shoulder at the man who'd simply appeared behind them. Before he had time to open his mouth, Morgan rounded on the stranger, weapons drawn and looking quite threatening. Giang, too, did her own little acrobatics. For his part, Darren turned in the air on his crystal platform, looking quite lazy by comparison, and held up a hand in a little wave to Edge. "Yeah, yeah, if he does something funny, I'll put him in a box. I got it, Crow." He flashed a smile. "We're dealing with a bit of an emergency situation right now, so, like, please forgive me if either of these guys jump the gun a bit. Or a lot. Kind of a new arrangement." Darren tapped a finger against his lip. "A bomb went off when Young Freedom came back to talk to the Headmaster, who, like, seems to have been robo-doppelgangered or something. We're kind of, like, en route to stop another potential detonation." He shrugged, palms to the sky. "And I'm like eighty percent sure Crow is going to be mad about me talking to you at all, so if you can hurry up and stand down we can get back to, like, being super heroes that'd be A-plus."

Darren stared at the portal and reconsidered the idea of jaunting around with a teleporter for the day. He hadn't traveled in anything faster than a jet and certainly nothing that bent the laws of time and space. With a sigh, he stepped through the portal after Kat and found himself stumbling out into a rooftop all the way across the country. Darren spread his arms to keep his balance as everything evened out. "That was...well, that was okay I guess." He straightened up and looked over the street. If he were a good son, he might have tried to figure out if his parents were in LA to go visit them, but they were hardly the model family. Darren's eyes slid over to Kat. "It's like two blocks from here, we can so walk it. Being quiet isn't really my style though." To illustrate, he pointed a hand towards the lip of the roof and his fingers began to glow white. Crystal erupted in the open air and shaped itself into a little platform complete with square guard rails. Darren stepped over one side and leaned back into a corner, hands still aglow. "I promise it's safe, though I guess you could just teleport to the ground from here, huh?"

"No big, right." Darren pushed his glasses back up and rubbed his hand along his neck. Originally, he had planned to just bounce around Hanover without having to worry about walking; he hadn't realized Kat was quite so powerful. Even still, he quirked an eyebrow. "Just the continent, huh? No Paris or Shibuya?" He flicked his eyes up towards the sun. "Ooh, time zones, that could, like, make it a waste, I guess." Darren lifted a hand and waved it towards the west. "How about Fred Segal, then? Broadway, Santa Monica. Don't worry about being too exact, I can get us a cab or fly us the rest of the way if you miss."

Darren stepped out the front door, alone, and made his way down the steps. He brought up one hand to give his dark hair a perfect flip, then used the other to flick open a pair of sunglasses. They perched there on his face, looking only a little out of place considering the cold of winter. Darren slid his phone out of his pocket and kept walking without paying any obvious attention to where he was headed. There were texts to sends and conversations to continue, and a small handful of followers he'd wanted to reply to since second period. Then he arrived next to Kat and come to a stop. The phone was locked and hidden again in an instant, and Darren edged his glasses down his nose so he could actually make eye contact with the girl. He gave her a shining smile. "You ready to go, Kat? Not having second thoughts, I hope."

Darren smirked at Subito's glare, rolling his eyes without a hint of subtlety. "Just a joke, Subito, calm down. Or don't, whatever. You get all cute when you're mad." He chuckled and crossed over to where he'd left his bag. As he picked it up, he looked to Grace. "May I use your bathroom to change? I should only be, like, a minute." Grace pointed down a hall and Darren hurried off to change into costume and keep his civilians clothes hopefully out of danger. He returned dressed in his usual white costume, holding his cape close. Darren set his bag back down, walked out to Subito to say something again, then thought better of it and drew his lips together again. A half dozen different digs popped into his head at Subito's gaudy costume, but Darren knew his own get up wasn't exactly tasteful. Instead, he smiled. "Alright, I'm ready." He almost bit his lip in time. "At least that blue looks good on you."

"A trap? What kind of trap?" Darren looked around the room with a quick turn of his head. Ash and chemical deposits, underground, trap. "A bomb? Or, like, bombs, I guess." He muttered a few choice non-English curses while tapping his chin with one finger. Darren continued to mumble to himself even as he floated out of the office after Morgan. After talking to himself for a few momements, he tuned into the Claremont frequency. "Archer, this is Adamas. The main office just blew up and I have Crow here saying it looks like the bunkers have been, uh, compromised. Could you please give an evacuate order?"

Darren carefully looked away from Subito at the suggestion that he help carry anything, least of all a person, but he still followed after and did his best to at least seem like he was helping. Once the Hand had taken a seat, Darren stood back with his arms folded over his chest, listening. Though Grace had changed back to normal, Darren remained completely crystalline. He had no intention of being caught by surprise just for showing a little mercy. "Doesn't really matter who lives in the Shadow-world, we just need to know who followed you." He shook his head and shrugged. "As a rule, I try not to get involved with magic, but, like, I don't think there's really a choice here. If we don't do something, then whatever it is will." Darren turned his head to give Subito a pointed look. "See, if we didn't take the bus like a couple of peasants, we would have been here and back already. This is, like, totally your fault."

Darren shifted his weight and put a hand against his hip. He gestured at nothing with his other hand. "Exactly, besides the words of Robo-Summers, we don't, like, have any real proof that the Terminus is involved. It just seems...off. I don't know." Darren tapped some of the ash spread over the floor with his foot. "The explosion seems kind of weird, too, like, I don't think Summers would plan something that might have killed the rest of Young Freedom, or us. I mean, like, isn't Sharl immune to fire or something? Everything today has just been weird, so I'm ready to not find more surprises very surprising." With a little step, Darren slid up next to Morgan. "How's the magic thing going, Crow?"

Darren jumped at the impact outside, then looked over his shoulder as if there was something to see. He laid his notebook back in his bag, left the whole thing in his chair, and then got up to follow Grace towards the door. Darren grimaced at the goo dripping on the lawn. "Kinda gross. Is he always, like...so gross?" His skin paled and started to shine like glass as crystal crept over him. Darren rolled his shoulders and stepped out onto the lawn after Grace. "I know I'm, like, a student and everything, but aren't you supposed to try to believe someone who asks for mercy? This guy looks like he might already be dying."

Player Name: Russoboo Character Name: Barghest Power Level: 7 / (105/105) Trade-Offs: +3 Toughness / -3 Defense Unspent Power Points: 0 Progress To Bronze Status: 0/30 In Brief: Born werewolf becomes a street hero. Alternate Identity: St John Varens Identity: Secret Birthplace: Manchester, New Hampshire Occupation: Mechanic Affiliations: - Family: Thomas and Claire Varens (parents), Emily Varens (aunt), the Varens pack Description: Age: 24 (DoB: Jan 4, 1989) Apparent Age: 24 Gender: Male Ethnicity: Caucasian Height: 6'0†Weight: 195 lbs Eyes: Green Hair: Brown St John hardly seems real. He's tall, with broad shoulders and a solid frame. Every inch of him is muscle, so built and toned that he could pass for airbrushed. His jaw is strong, his nose is aquiline, and his brows are thick. There is a certain obviously unnatural air about him; he always fills the room and every little movement is precise. St John's dark hair is short and meticulously styled, as is the stubble covering his jaw and chin. He plays the bad boy image a little too much to not be intentional. St John owns several leather jackets, which he often pairs with simple t-shirts, cheap enough that their inevitable destruction isn't a disaster. His closet is full of dark jeans and motorcycle pants. Power Descriptions: St John lacks flashy super powers, though his regeneration is certainly noticeable. When he taps further into his lycanthropy, St John's face warps to become more bestial: his ears grow points, his eyes go yellow, his teeth sharpen, and he gets hairy in a hurry. Unlike classic werewolves, though, he retains a mostly human face and form. History: St John Varens isn't human. Of course, at first, even he didn't know he was different. He was born into a rather mundane New England family with his father the office worker and his mother the homemaker. St John was a remarkably healthy baby, strong and hardy. He developed normally, played normally, and lived normally. By the time he was old enough for school, he had tricked everyone around him into thinking he was exactly as normal as them. And then he died. It was an accident, of course. He was so much stronger and faster than his classmates and there were a lot of kids on the playground that day. St John scaled the play-set before anyone could stop him. He perched on top of it, taunted his friends below, and lost his balance. Killed on impact, they said. Broke his neck when he hit the ground. A complete freak accident. When he woke up screaming in the morgue two days later, any pretense of being normal fell apart. Less than twenty four hours later, his aunt, Emily Varens, a woman he'd never met, arrived and came to 'collect' him. Everything happened so quickly and no one wanted to sit down and explain any of it to him. His parents could hardly look at him – his mother burst into tears and his father just glowered. After hours of driving west in Aunt Emily's car, all of St John's things in the backseat, Emily took a breath and told him the truth. “You're a loup'garou. A werewolf.†He moved in with his extended family, the lyncathropic part, way out in Colorado. They taught him what it meant to be a werewolf, trained him to deal with his ever-sharpening senses and his steadily improving regeneration. How to control the beast inside that called to him when he got angry or when the moon was full. He learned how to keep it all secret from the humans he was supposed to keep at the fringe. But above everything, St John learned to be part of the pack, to feel safety only in numbers, to serve his betters, to always put his family (his real family) first. St John survived. He got through middle school without doing more than send a boy to the hospital after a poorly thought out attempt to play football. By high school, he was a master of drawing the minimum amount of attention to himself as possible. He graduated and went to trade school for auto-mechanics with every intention of working for one of his uncles for the rest of his life, when he deigned to call it as much. And after awhile, it just wasn't enough. So he ran. St John arrived in Freedom City knowing only that it was, relatively speaking, a safe haven for non-humans. He became a hero by accident, first by defending a woman from assault late one night. Then he did it again, stopping a mugger before he'd even finished delivering the first threat. And it felt good to help, to protect people who didn't seem to care what he was, genetically, when he saved them. St John Varens became Barghest, superhero. Personality & Motivation: It takes more muscles to frown than to smile, but that's how he got so ripped. Powers & Tactics: St John pretends to be in touch with his inner beast, but he doesn't rely on pack tactics. While he does prefer to stalk and strike from the shadows, he is a focused brawler. He trusts his regeneration to back him up in any close-quarters fight and prefers to wear down one target at a time. Complications: Full Moon: St John doesn't completely lose control during the full moon, but it does put considerable strain on his abilities to remain calm, rational, and human-looking. Secret Identity: Barghest tries to hide his true species. St John tries to hide his true species and that he has any connection to Barghest. The Pack: St John's relationship with the rest of the Varens clan is shaky after he ran out on them. Wolf Out: High levels of stress make not shifting to werewolf difficult. Powerful emotions are the most dangerous this way, but adrenaline, fatigue, and other physical stresses can force a change, too. Abilities: 14 + 10 + 24 + 0 + 4 + 0 = 42PP Strength: 24 (+7) Dexterity: 20 (+5) Constitution: 24 (+7) Intelligence: 10 (+0) Wisdom: 14 (+2) Charisma: 10 (+0) Combat: 6 + 4 = 10PP Initiative: +0 Attack: +3 Melee, +3 Ranged, +7 Unarmed Grapple: +10 Defense: +5 (+3 Base, +2 Dodge Focus), +3 Flat-Footed Knockback: -3 Saving Throws: 0 + 0 + 3 = 3PP Toughness: +7/+10 (+7 Con, +3 Protection) Fortitude: +7 (+7 Con, +0) Reflex: +5 (+5 Dex, +0) Will: +5 (+2 Wis, +3) Skills: 56R = 14PP Craft (Mechanical) 6 (+6) Disable Device 4 (+4) Intimidate 8 (+8) Know (Pop Culture) 4 (+4) Know (Streetwise) 8 (+8) Notice 6 (+8) Search 4 (+4) Sense Motive 6 (+8) Stealth 6 (+11) Survival 4 (+6) Feats: 14PP Attack Special (Unarmed) 2 Attractive 2 Dodge Focus 2 Evasion Luck 1 Improved Initiative Move-By Action Power Attack Quick Change Startle Takedown Attack Uncanny Dodge (Olfactory) Powers: 5 + 2 + 11 + 2 + 5 = 25PP Alternate Form 1 (Rougarou) [5pp] Protection 3 ('thick skin') [3] Super-Senses 2 (Low-Light Vision, Ultrahearing)[2] Immunity 2 (Disease, Poison) [2pp] Regeneration 11 ('accelerated healing'; bruised/no action 3, injured/no action 6, resurrection/day 2; PFs Regrowth) [11pp] Speed 2 (25 MPH) [2pp] Super-Senses 5 (Accurate 2 Acute 1 Tracking 2 Scent) [5pp] Drawbacks: -3 = -3PP Weakness (Wolfsbane; Frequency Uncommon; Intensity Moderate [-1 all checks and attack/defense]) [-3pp] DC Block ATTACK RANGE SAVE EFFECT Unarmed Touch DC22 Toughness (Staged) Damage (Physical) Totals: Abilities (42) + Combat (10) + Saving Throws (3) + Skills (14) + Feats (14) + Powers (25) - Drawbacks (3) = 105/105 Power Points

"He said that to you two weeks ago?" Darren quirked his head a few degrees, then hummed low to himself. He looked down to see that Morgan was doing some kind of magic, probably, which close enough that he didn't want to disturb him. With a roll of his hand through the air, he continued to Giang. "He may not have had the intel on Sharl and Indira until recently. Hard to say when the swap was made, except that it was definitely before this morning. Still, it just..." he frowned and ground his toe into the ashen carpet, "it just doesn't seem big enough to be Terminus, right? Like, this was a pretty poor infiltration attempt, why didn't a few hundreds drones land on us or something? Why let the rest of the super kids get to the bunkers? This, like, isn't good sabotage or a good blitzkrieg, so what's the point?"

“Who?†Darren gave the woman a squint. The codename didn't ring any bells and neither did the outfit, generic as it was. He slid away from the doors and the Other Woman, got about ten feet away, and then turned to face her again. His hands were raised in something like a fighting stance without as much practiced form. “I'm trained, you know, I can drop you in, like, seconds.†She laughed. “Yeah, sure. Let's not write checks we can't cash. Though I'm sure you're a master at writing checks.†At Darren's glare and the rapid formation of a fist-sized chunk of crystal between his hands, the Other Woman held up her open palms. “I'm not here to fight, alright? I actually need your help. There's a crime going on in the Kirby while we're out here talking, but it's not something I can take care of alone. You want to help or have a stand-off?†“What I want...†he worried at his lip, “is to know why you called me. There's, like, hundreds of other capes in Freedom and-†“And they wouldn't trust me. Or, they wouldn't trust me and they wouldn't work with me. I'll be honest with you.†She sighed and crossed her arms over her chest. “The stopping crimes thing is new, I used to be more about committing them. But I'm reformed and I'm trying to prove it, but anyone with a bit of grit won't buy that. You know how it is, right? Making a change and getting people to look only at the new you?†Darren wriggled his toes in his boots. He knew how it felt to not be a natural born hero, that much was at least true. Briefly, he wondered if she was playing him, but he shook the thought out of his head. Everyone had an angle, but O. W.'s seemed harmless, if a little bit selfish. The crystal he'd been aiming at her chest vanished with a blink and he let his hands drop an inch. “So, what are we trying to stop?†Other Woman smiled and relaxed. She motioned for Darren to follow her away from the front of the building and over to the side of the lawn. “Burglary, if it wasn't obvious given we're at a museum. A few other minor things on the way, but that's the big one.†O. W. pointed at the edge of the roof and there was a sharp pop as a thin cable sailed through the dark and clamped to the ledge. She scaled the high wall in a few seconds, though Darren beat her to the top through a lazy float on a crystal disc. They exchanged a mutual eye roll before Other Woman strode across the roof towards the museum's spire with Darren following after. They came to a stop at the base of the spire. The roof bore a hatch near the spire, maintenance access for sure, but the trap door looked to have been cut off with a torch and tossed aside. A dark tunnel led straight down into the depths of the museum. “They came in here.†“Did they really?†At O. W.'s huffed reply, Darren continued. “What're they after?†“Did you do any research before you got here?†“There's a lot of objets d'art in a fine art museum, by the way.†“If I'm right, and I'm always right, they're after a magic shirt.â€

"Yeah, well, what can I say, I'm pretty much amazing." Darren floated on back up to the office, phone in hand, and nodded to no one as he watched the water curl and recede back out of the building. With a snap, the crystallization reverted, returning to the building back to normal, minus the partially collapsed upper story. He held his phone near his bicep and wriggled his fingers, summoning up a little diamond holster to keep it secure, then hovered over to the office to meet Morgan and Giang. Darren pointed a transparent finger down at Summers' remains. "Well, that's definitely a robot. We can't, like, rule out android decoy, but if this isn't the real Summers, where is he?" He waved his hand at Morgan. "You're, like, a techno-wizard or something, right? Can you hack its brain?"

Darren paused at Grace's question, pen perched in the middle of a word. He rolled his shoulders back and finished his notations before letting himself worry about how to answer. She was a former member of the League, someone who answered the calling with notions of responsibility and righteousness. Subito was just his peer, but one Darren didn't know particularly well. Between the two, very little encouraged him to be honest. Personal opinions aside, he could nearly taste the threat of a lecture. He drew in a deep breath. "Something other than a super hero. If I could trade in the cape for something else with, like, any kind of elegance, I'd want to at least try it." Darren spun the pen in his fingers, tapped one end against the notebook. "There were other things I wanted to be before...everything. The caped crusading, sometimes it feels more like an obligation." He leaned back and looked up at the ceiling. "I'm more worried about graduating than retiring."

Darren tried to do homework after that, he really did, but every time he opened a textbook, his eyes slid over to where he'd left the letter on the counter. He didn't know, exactly, what was happening, and thinking about it made his heart pound out of his chest. After an hour of unsuccessful attempts at trigonometry, he ordered up some room service and fired up the laptop. He ignored the tidal wave of notifications as he opened a browser and instead tried to do some digging. The Kirby, he realized almost as soon as he typed it in, almost had to mean the Kirby Museum of Fine Arts. The museum sat over in City Center, a short trip from Hanover if he simply flew over Wading River. Besides a history of collecting and displaying art, the museum had suffered at least twice from super-powered shenanigans. Darren skimmed through a list of the current exhibits, but nothing leaped out at him: a lot of paintings, some sculptures, and at least one wing for cycling and traveling collections. By midnight, though, the museum was definitely going to be closed. If he was supposed to actually get inside the Kirby, well, Darren didn't think that was going to happen. While he wasn't exactly a paragon of virtue, there was no way he was going to break into the Kirby on the word of some random letter from someone he didn't know. He checked and double checked his phone, his followers, and his extended social web, but there was no one with the initials O. W. So, for a little while, he dropped the whole thing in favor of dinner and a long shower. And yet, at 11:50, Darren was fully suited up as Adamas and floating lazily across the river on his way to City Center. Following up on the advice of strangers was a bad idea, he knew that, but as a super hero, he felt obligated to at least investigate. Nothing illegal, nothing reckless, just some well-meaning detective work. A couple minutes later, he touched down on the street and took a look at the Kirby. The building was pretty huge and accompanied by a crystal spire, though it was hard to see in the dark. Darren took a few preparatory breaths and then floated over the lawn towards the front doors. He cupped his crystalline hands around his eyes and peered through the glass. There were a few lights in the doorway, but the lobby beyond was dark and shadowed. Darren poked a finger against the glass and then felt a tap at his shoulder. He bolted up and put a hand over his mouth to squeeze back a scream. Darren turned on his heel and stumbled back against the door. “Looks like you made it, I was getting worried.†She was short and slender, clad in a purple body suit with gold piping. Her hair sat in a perfect blonde wave with body and bounce, a little too shiny to be real. A domino mask covered her eyes and a many-pouched belt in yellow vinyl sat at her waist. “But I'm glad you're here, Adamas. I'm the Other Woman.â€

Darren stepped back into the hall and floated up off the ground until he was crowded against the ceiling. Sure enough, a few tons of water rushed past him, which put out the flames in the office and then put a good amount of strain on his psychically-reinforced building. He came down from the ceiling and hovered over the water on his diamond board while he listened to Mr. Archer broadcast over the Claremont frequency. As he kept some concentration on keeping the building together, Darren traveled back down to the locker he'd put his civvies in to retrieve his phone. After a few seconds of social media, he radioed Morgan and Giang. "Looks like most of the students are actually, like, following procedure. I think Blue Jay had a freak out and is fighting some other kids. And they think it's the Terminus. Again." He stopped to hammer out a quick text message to his sister, asking if she was safe. "Thanks for putting out the fire, Giang, but I don't really want to let the building go back to normal until all the standing water is out of it."