Triple Murder in Riderside, Rebooted

[N/A]

"Fair enough. But blindfolds later. First, we head to Hanover. Follow me." With that, The Scarab takes off into the air and begins flying north. Slamdance can feel her voice inside his head. "Let me know if you lose me."

At one point during their journey, Scarab stops by a payphone, and makes a quick call to Sofia. "Don't come down to the Lair tonight. I'm having guests over, and they're not on The List yet." Then she quickly makes another call, this time to a taxi cab company, and she hangs up as soon as they answer. No "redial" for you, Mr. Hypothetical Spy...

[Dr Archeville]

The home of Dr. Archeville wasn't much to look at, at least from the outside. Nestled in a small lot roughly halfway between the Hanover Institute of Technology and the Albright Institute, it appeared to be just another plain and unassuming light gray one-story housing units that had been springing up all over Hanover over the past few years. The only initial oddity was that it was on its own lot, and not in a housing complex like so many other similar units.

The small yard was neatly trimmed, and a (surprisingly quaint) cobblestone walkway lead from the sidewalk to the front door. The path was flanked by an octet of decorative lawn gnomes, each about a foot high and molded to appear as if wearing plaid shirts and lederhosen, as well as the traditional big tall pointy hat. Eerily,t heir eyes seemed to follow the two guests. The windows appeared blocked by thick white curtains, the the green front door appeared to have a simple lock, not some fancy handprint or retinal scan device.

[N/A]

The Scarab touched down on Archeville's front porch, and waved vaguely at the door. The old-fashioned knocker rammed the door thrice, seemingly of it's own accord*.

*Yes, I'm going to use that phrase to describe her telekinesis. And I'm going to use it a lot.

[Dr Archeville]

The door opened quietly a few moments afterwards, also seemingly of its own accord. The room beyond was fairly dark, though Scarab & Slamdance could just make out some movement, some glints of metal, off in the distance.

"Halt!" a voice from nowhere commanded. They had heard Archeville speak a few times before, sound bites on television and such, and this voice did sound like his, but it also sounded very distorted, very mechanical. "Please state your name and the nature of your visit."

[N/A]

"I am The Scarab. We apologize for the late hour, but we require Doctor Archeville's scientific expertise in an urgent matter. Lives have already been lost, and more are at stake."

[Razorback]

"We are looking for the person who did this horrible... act" Slamdance replies, trying not to let his emotions show.

"If you could help, I would be in your debt."

[Dr Archeville]

Silence for a moment, then "Please enter, an escort will be with you shortly."

A light flicked on inside, showing that the first room was quite nicely decorated, with beautifully stained wood paneling along the walls and a tiled floor depicting an odd mandala-like design. Three hallways lead off from the entryway, left, right, and straight ahead, and a sparkling chandelier -- the source of the light -- hung from the ceiling.

The ceiling which was far too high for the building, based on the exterior dimensions. Come to think of it, the entryway alone seemed big enough to take up half the house... which could explain why they would need an escort.

The escort which soon arrived, or, at least, most of it did. It appeared to be a life-sized animatronic gorilla, though missing all its skin/fur and its left arm. "Follow, please," it beckoned in the oddly warped version of Dr. Archeville's voice. It lead them down numerous hallways -- far too many to be in a standard Hanover housing unit -- until it reached a set of double doors, which opened a set of wide stairs. At the bottom of the stairs was what looked to be the storage cellar of a bar, judging by the dozens and dozens of barrels stacked about.

An astute eye would notice that there were no American beers in sight, that they were all imports. An astute eye would also notice the few robots in the room, dusting off and rotating barrels, checking ambient temperature and humidity levels, and so on. Most of the robots were about twice the size of a grown man's hand, but two were the size of German Shepherds. All were very vaguely spider-like.

And in the middle of it all was that mad genius, Dr. Viktor Archeville, pouring himself a beer from a tapped keg. "Hello! How may I be of service dis evening?"

[N/A]

"I'm sorry we couldn't meet under better circumstances, Doctor. Your reputation proceeds you, however, and we require someone with your expertise."

The Scarab levitates up off the stairs, bringing Slamdance along with a wave of her off-hand, and floats the two of them directly down to the floor next to Archeville. "We are investigating a murder. The prime suspect is a supernatural entity from another plane of existence. And she left some traces the police missed." She reaches into a pocket and pulls out the plastic bag with the demon's hairs. "We have other contacts examining their mystical properties. But I was hoping you could provide a more scientific analysis." She offers the bag to Archeville. "And we would be happy to compensate you for your valuable time."

[Dr Archeville]

Is that dude or a chick?

Does it matter?

'Course it matters!

Whatever, look, they said there was a murder, they obviously believe we can help the investigation, so let's do what we can.

But... but... it's beer o'clock!

The super-scientist perked up when he heard "murder," got a nasty scowl when he heard "supernatural," but perked up again when he heard "scientific." "I vould of course be happy to lend assistance to a fellow Do-Gooder, and... vait a moment." He paused and looked over Scarab, "I dink I know you! Ja, you are der Scarabäus, The Scarab, ja? Potent psychic, vorked mit de Freedom League? Vunderbar! I haff been meaning to see about arranging to meet mit you! Oh, and you..." he turns to face Slamdance, "ja, I know you, too, young man. Slamdance, ja? 'De Teenage Wrecking Ball,' I believe dey call you." He gave a somewhat disconcerting wink to the teen.

"Ah, but vork first, ja!" He drained his mug of beer, then walked to one of the cellar walls, where a selection of beer taps seemed to be mounted for display. He pulled a series of them, and a concealed door slid open, revealing a series of laboratories which stretched out for hundreds of yards. While tidy, they were not gleaming or pristine, and looked like they'd seen a lot of use. The place had a weird smell, a mixture of antiseptic chemicals, oil, and ozone. The center was dominated by a massive pillar, covered in monitor screens, though from this distance it was impossible to see what was on them.

"Zhis vay, please," he said as he lead them in, through the maze of tables. Most held either electronic components or flasks of chemicals, though two held assorted plant samples and one held what looked like an assortment of plastic waterguns of various shapes and sizes along with a few chemical testing paraphernalia. Tiny robots scurried about here and there, like ants attending their duties.

[Razorback]

Slamdance followed Dr. Archeville and Scarab into the hidden room, still a little stunned that anyone had heard of him.

'But, is that a good thing or a bad thing?' he thought to himself. He had intentionally kept a low profile but it felt good that somone in the hero community knew who he was. Of course, if the Doctor had heard of him possible some of the not so upstanding citizens in FC had heard of him to... he would have to think about this when he had time. He then focused on what the other two were talking about.

[N/A]

"I vould of course be happy to lend assistance to a fellow Do-Gooder, and... vait a moment." He paused and looked over Scarab, "I dink I know you! Ja, you are der Scarabäus, The Scarab, ja? Potent psychic, vorked mit de Freedom League? Vunderbar! I haff been meaning to see about arranging to meet mit you!

"I helped found the League, before my...long absence. I am no longer affiliated with them. They are not the League I worked with. And I'm afraid I don't have the influence to get you an audience with them, if that's what you were hoping."

"Oh, and you..." he turns to face Slamdance, "ja, I know you, too, young man. Slamdance, ja? 'De Teenage Wrecking Ball,' I believe dey call you."

The Scarab turns to Slamdance as they follow The Good Doctor into his lab. "I'm sorry. I assumed this was your first case. It appears that you've already made something of a name for yourself. And that I was right to trust you."

[Avenger Assembled]

As Avenger's long, busy night went on, he took careful note of the questions he hoped to answer:

"What do the markings that summon the demon actually mean? Is there any way to know what kind of demon it was, either by them or the hairs he's found?"

"Are there any demons currently active in Freedom City, or infernalists, that are known to the vampire underground? If so, where can they be found? What activities do they generally undertake?"

"What was this demon's name? How do you kill a demon?"

[Dr Archeville]

"What do the markings that summon the demon actually mean? Is there any way to know what kind of demon it was, either by them or the hairs he's found?"

They don't mean anything. Well, not anything specific, not the way they're arranged. Individually, they're all symbols of death or supernatural evil, though none are very obscure ones; they're all symbols any mook could find on Google or in a tattoo shop. It's like someone took a large assortment of fairly basic arcane symbols and slapped them up there willy-nilly, to make it look like some arcane ritual was enacted. That, or whoever did it really was trying to do an actual ritual, but flubbed it so badly that nothing happened.

"Are there any demons currently active in Freedom City, or infernalists, that are known to the vampire underground? If so, where can they be found? What activities do they generally undertake?"

Hellqueen's probably still active, but no one's heard from her in a while. Malador hasn't been seen since Eldirch banished him to some pocket dimension several months ago. There's Hellhound, a member of the so-called Shadow Academy (a group rumored to be a supervillain analgoue to the Next Gen); he has many of the abilities and personality traits associated with demon-kind. Speaking of, there have been some sightings of actual demon dogs/hell hounds throughout the Fens lately, though no one knows who's summoning them. There has been some minor demonic activity in Lincoln, some sort of gang turf war between a pro-tech group and a pro-magic one that Emissary's been trying to crack down on, but no one seems to know anything more than that. And there have been some reported sightings of a big, red, bat-winged demon-looking guy flying all around Riverside, but no one's sure if it's a real demon or just another mutant; the sightings seem to indicate it is slowly canvassing the area, getting a feel for it. Sight-seeing, in a way.

"What was this demon's name? How do you kill a demon?"

Avenger's research & asking around turns up nothing on the demon's name; the sensitive on Ditko street wasn't able to trace it with just the few hairs he supplied. Trying to find its name based on its activities -- how it gained entry, who it killed, how it killed, the symbols, the theft afterwards, etc. -- also proves fruitless. If it's been active on the mortal plane before, he can find no record of it.

Demons tend to be quite tough, certainly more than a match for any mook, but they're far from unkillable. Skilled Supers, like the ones in the Freedom League, or the Atom Family kids, could take on a demon or three; even the Next Gen punks would fare well against some lesser types of demons. It will go a lot easier if you use holy attacks, though, or if you can fight them on holy ground (which weakens most demons).

Checking on Scarab & Slamdance...

Scarab apparently is either the reincarnation of the first Scarab, who was killed while fighting the Scions of Sobek (long-dead Egyptian sorcerer-priests) back in 1979, or Scarab never really died and is just now coming out of hiding (though if that's the case, Scarab's an old man). In either case, Scarab's powers -- assorted psychic abilities, including ESP, memory alteration, mental blasts, mind control, post- and pre-cognition, telekinesis, and telepathy -- seem as sharp as ever.

Slamdance is a teen with super-speed and an incredible degree of toughness; he actually seems to absorb kinetic energy (say, from running into things) and uses that energy to heal himself. Operates mostly in Southside, usually near the soup kitchens, homeless shelters, etc; very protective of the homeless and the weak. Those who've talked with him say he's very driven, almost too driven, as if he's trying to compensate or atone for something.

---

Argh, another dead end! Will we never get to the Freedom League? Will we never get to pick Daedalus' brain, and show him up?

We'll figure out a way.

Wait - didn't Scarab say she, er, he, er, whatever thought that this was Slamdance's first case?

... yeah. So?

Must not be a very good psychic, then.

The super-scientist's expression changed briefly to one of disappointed resignation as scarab explained her standing with the League. "Ach, vell, dere vill be ozher vays for me to meet mit dem, I am sure. But," his face lit up again as he clapped his hands together, "for now, dere is vork to do!"

He had stopped at what appeared to be part of a set for CSI: Coruscant. The work station looked vaguely like a forensics lab, but several items were completely baffling to Scarab & Slamdance. Archeville placed the hairs into one such item, what appeared to be a large kaleidoscope connected to a box about twice the size of an iPod.

After a few moments of quiet examination, and a full panoply of facial expressions, he abruptly breaks the silence. "AH-HA! Mein initial hypothesis seems to be correct!" He looked up at the two assembled heroes, "Mein analysis shows dat de gross structure of the hair itself vas indicative of a western European person, de DNA analysis revealed something far more interesting. First off, dere are a good number of Y chromosomes in dere, all mostly but not exactly the same. Also, dere are genetic markers present for almost every region of Europe, dough de majority are ones for northvestern European descent. Mein hypothesis is dat you're after a shapeshifter, of northvestern Europe stock, who vas either born a male but his powers manifested fairly recently (hence the retention of Y chromosomes, they're the "factory pre-sets"), or de individual vas born mit shapeshifting abilities but for vhatever reason spends most of its time as a male."

[N/A]

The super-scientist's expression changed briefly to one of disappointed resignation as Scarab explained her standing with the League. "Ach, vell, dere vill be ozher vays for me to meet mit dem, I am sure.

"I can't get you into the League. I can, however, give you the next best thing. My headquarters is outfitted with Dædalus Tech. It's beyond state-of-the-art now, let alone when it was installed almost five decades ago. I can't give you the man, but I can give you his work."

That should get his attention.

[N/A]

The Scarab turned to Archeville, and her voice resonated inside his mind. Don't be too sure. It isn't wise to mistake the exercise of restraint for a lack of ability.

But," his face lit up again as he clapped his hands together, "for now, dere is vork to do!"

He had stopped at what appeared to be part of a set for CSI: Coruscant. The work station looked vaguely like a forensics lab, but several items were completely baffling to Scarab & Slamdance. Archeville placed the hairs into one such item, what appeared to be a large kaleidoscope connected to a box about twice the size of an iPod.

After a few moments of quiet examination, and a full panoply of facial expressions, he abruptly breaks the silence. "AH-HA! Mein initial hypothesis seems to be correct!" He looked up at the two assembled heroes, "Mein analysis shows dat de gross structure of the hair itself vas indicative of a western European person, de DNA analysis revealed something far more interesting. First off, dere are a good number of Y chromosomes in dere, all mostly but not exactly the same. Also, dere are genetic markers present for almost every region of Europe, dough de majority are ones for northvestern European descent. Mein hypothesis is dat you're after a shapeshifter, of northvestern Europe stock, who vas either born a male but his powers manifested fairly recently (hence the retention of Y chromosomes, they're the "factory pre-sets"), or de individual vas born mit shapeshifting abilities but for vhatever reason spends most of its time as a male."

"So it's likely we're not looking for a demon, but rather, a shapeshifter with a flair for the theatric. One of British, Nordic, or Germanic descent? Thank you, Doctor. You have been a great help. We will definitely be seeing more of each other in the future." The Scarab took Archeville's hand and shook it firmly.

"Now if you'll excuse me, we have some research to do."

[Avenger Assembled]

Avenger went hunting during the day, staking out the lowest of the low in the Fens before finding a likely-looking drug dealer. Hungry and distracted, he dispensed with the preliminaries: he found a quiet, secluded spot in a dark alley, beat the man into unconsciousness, pulled him even _deeper_ into the alley to feed, and then left him unconscious and battered for his friends to find. That'll keep his friends out of this neighborhood for a while! After that he stakes out Riverside, finding dark alleys even in the brightest of day as he keeps an eye out for his 'friend' the flying demon-guy. The more information he can get before meeting with Scarab, the better.

[Dr Archeville]

Archeville's face lit up like akid on Christmas at the mention of Daedalus tech. "Oh, I should like dat very much, ja. In fact, I'd say dat alone vould be vorth a good deal of mein time."

We've been breached!

Oh, do calm down. Scarab, I do apologize for anything you may have picked up from my... worse half.

"Hurm." Archeville is quiet a moment, looking this way and that, in every direction but Scarab's... and then he gives her a wink and smirks.

"Ja, British, Nordic or Germanic. Which, vhile not exactly a specific profile, could be of some use. Oh, und von ozher ding!" he say with a snap of the fingers. "Mein scans did not pick up any alterations in de hair color -- it vas de same all de vay through -- vhich could mean dat de von who did dis has de same hair color in his 'default' form as in de form used to commit his crimes. Dat may help narrow dings down a bit more for you."

[Razorback]

'I need to start paying more attention in science class if I want to be any good at this stuff' Sandro thinks to himself as he extends his hand to the Doctor.

"I appreciate your help" he says with a firm handshake "If you ever need my help with anything please let me know. It looks like you have your... sources, so getting in contact with me shouldn't be a problem." With that, he turns and looks at The Scarab to let her know he is ready to leave.

'Hopefully, I didn't come off sounding like a kid trying to sound adult. Or fake. And, I need to concentrate on my research so if I ever work with others I can contribute more than standing there to keep the floor from floating away' he mentally berates himself as he takes one more look around the room. 'I guess some kind of hideout or base or whatever would probably help. Gotta figure that out, too.' He gives his head a little shake and smiles under his mask as he lets the Doctor escort The Scarab and himself out.

[N/A]

Once their dealings with The Good Doctor were concluded and the blindfold was firmly afixed over Slamdance's eyes, The Scarab and Slamdance departed southward, hand-in-hand, through the streets of Freedom City. The Scarab focused her power on clouding the thoughts of bystanders, screening herself and the young hero from their sight and minds. Once they were past the secret sewer entrance, The Scarab removed the boy's blindfold and led him through the tunnel into the central shaft of her Lair.

They stand at the edge of a precipice, looking down a cylindrical shaft descending several stories into the ground, with several doors and platforms branching off from it along the way in three different directions. A large pole runs down the center of the shaft, and Slamdance can hear the hum of machinery and circuitry from within. "Welcome, she says with a wave of her arm, "to The Scarab's Lair."

The Scarab scoops the air with both hands, waving them upward, and Slamdance can hear the grinding sound of stone-on-stone as the floor of the shaft raises up to meet them. She steps onto the massive stone platform and beckons Slamdance to follow her. "I'm the captain, so climb aboard. We'll search for tomorrow on every shore."

[N/A]

Despite the appearance of an ancient Egyptian pyramid, The Lair is a comfortable temparature, and fresh air circulates throughout. The makeshift elevator lowers to the ground floor. The Scarab points down each of three hallways, describing each in turn. "That door leads to a dead end. I never excavated that area. That room over there has the controls for the teleportals, located just beyond it. Most of the destinations are encrypted, so don't bother playing around with it. But if the worst should happen, we can use it to escape to Freedom Hall. And our business lies this way, through Door #3."

She leads Slamdance through the third door, into a vast chamber brimming with a collection of relics from all around the ancient world that rivals any Slamdance has seen in a museum or magazine. There was an entire Egyptian chariot, carved pillars and statues, glass cases of jewelry, framed papyrus scrollwork, and all sorts of other archeological curiosities, from a variety of regions and time periods.

"Try not to break anything in here. Like any other material possessions, they are all ultimately fleeting. But it took me a long time to accumulate, and each piece has some kind of sentimental value. Now, the door on your right leads into the living quarters. Plenty of food, beverage, and comfortable sleeping arrangements. Feel free to help yourself; we'll be here a while. The door on your left leads into my command center. That's where I keep the computer mainframe and digital library. That's where we can do our research. There are plenty of terminals, so we can work simultaneously. Let's get to it." With that, she opens the door, and the decor changes sharply from Ancient Egyptian Pyramid to Futuristic Starship Bridge. The Scarab choose a terminal, sat down, and began typing...

[Dr Archeville]

Richard's hard drive contains lots of the things one would expect from a semi-alienated 16-year-old guy: some school work, lots of mp3s and movies (some pornographic), a few games... but, oddly, no internet browser history. Then Slamdance remembers that some browsers can be set so the user's private data (browsing history, cache etc.) would be automatically cleared every time he closed his browser window. And then Slamdance remembered overhearing folks at his dad's job talk about the prep work that went into re-assigning a computer from one project to another, part of which involved clearing the "ghost drive." With some skull-sweat Slamdance & Scarab are able to get to it and thus to the browser history.

Again, much of the browser history is what one would expect for a semi-alienated 16-year-old guy: MyPlace page hits, torrent movie & mp3 download sites, game sites, news aggregator sites, forums for fans of assorted tv shows and movies, and so on. All fairly innocent, though showing a definite slide towards what might be described as "jaded morbidity" as the months passed. The past few weeks of browser history do take a decidedly supernatural turn, though, as Richard began visiting sites about magic and spirits and demons, sites which purported to carry real magical spells and real rituals to let someone summon real demons. The vast majority is snake oil, but there are a few tidbits of actual arcane lore in there, enough to lead a sufficiently enterprising person to ask the right questions to the right people in the right places to gain more true magical skill. (The names of a few of these people and places are found in documents on the drive.) The past three nights Richard had visited sits on demonic activity almost exclusively, specifically for info on summoning and binding demonic servants.

There is nothing on the drive indicating whether or not he actually tried to cast any of the spells or enact any of the rituals.

---

Scarab's non-hard drive related research turns up much the same stuff Avengers's research finds.

The symbols don't mean anything. Well, not anything specific, not the way they're arranged. Individually, they're all symbols of death or supernatural evil, though none are very obscure ones; they're all symbols any mook could find on Google or in a tattoo shop. It's like someone took a large assortment of fairly basic arcane symbols and slapped them up there willy-nilly, to make it look like some arcane ritual was enacted. That, or whoever did it really was trying to do an actual ritual, but flubbed it so badly that nothing happened.

Re: demonic activity in FC: Hellqueen's probably still active, but no one's heard from her in a while. Malador hasn't been seen since Eldirch banished him to some pocket dimension several months ago. There's Hellhound, a member of the so-called Shadow Academy (a group rumored to be a supervillain analogue to the Next Gen); he has many of the abilities and personality traits associated with demon-kind. Speaking of, there have been some sightings of actual demon dogs/hell hounds throughout the Fens lately, though no one knows who's summoning them. There has been some minor demonic activity in Lincoln, some sort of gang turf war between a pro-tech group and a pro-magic one that Emissary's been trying to crack down on, but no one seems to know anything more than that. And there have been some reported sightings of a big, red, bat-winged demon-looking guy flying all around Riverside, but no one's sure if it's a real demon or just another mutant; the sightings seem to indicate it is slowly canvassing the area, getting a feel for it. Sight-seeing, in a way.

Re: who this demon might be, and how to kill it: Working for the moment on a presumption that it is a demon, research turns up nothing on its name. Trying to find its name based on its activities -- how it gained entry, who it killed, how it killed, the symbols, the theft afterwards, etc. -- proves fruitless. If it is a demon and if it had been active on the mortal plane before, you can find no record of it.

Demons tend to be quite tough, certainly more than a match for any mook, but they're far from unkillable. Skilled Supers, like the ones in the Freedom League, or the Atom Family kids, could take on a demon or three; even the Next Gen kids would fare well against some lesser types of demons. It will go a lot easier if you use holy attacks, though, or if you can fight them on holy ground (which weakens most demons).

Additionally, Scarab & Slamdance find the following:

Scarab & Slamdance find that Danielle Sylvie, the name the murderess used, is part of the real name of Sophie Marceau, the woman the murderess looked like. Sophie Marceau was born Sophie Danièle Sylvie Maupu.

Working on the assumption that it is just a shapeshifter, Scarab finds references to special chemical rounds & restraint devices used by law enforcement agents (and by some gadgeteers, like Dr. Archeville) that can temporarily strip the metamorphic powers of some shapeshifters, by inhibiting certain biochemical signals.

And in regards to what Archeville found: Freedom City was founded by the English, and today over 50% of its population is Caucasian. Which reduces the list of suspects from 3.9 million to 1.95 million, assuming "she" is still around in Freedom City.

---

Avenger's daytime activities yield nothing. The few fliers he sees are very non-demonic, and the only red he sees is a woman in a tight-in-all-the-right-places red dress.

[Avenger Assembled]

It was a frustrating day for Avenger. As if dealing with the constant, blistering heat of the sun, painfully hot in thick black clothes, isn't enough, complete professional blockade was a deeply irritating experience. In the cool, protective shadow of a rooftop TV antenna, Avenger looked back on the day and his investigation, thinking hard. If that is a real demon in the sky around Riverside, it seems likely he's connected to our murderer. 'Ve no idea how obvious demonic genders are; might be the same. If demons are anything like vampires, even if he's 'innocent', he'll be very interested in dealing with an intrusion on his territory. Hope the others had better luck.

[N/A]

"Dammit," The Scarab muttered under her breath. "GODDAMMIT!" she shouted as she pounded the desk with her fist, sending her coffee cup sprawling to the floor. She propped her elbow on the desk and rested her forehead in her hand. "I've been walking this world over and over again for millenia, and I'm still so dangerously naive. She isn't even vaguely supernatural. I've wasted an entire night for all of us, chasing a red herring!" She rested her hands on the desk as her head leaned backward. "We're not looking for a demon. We're looking for a perfectly secular shapeshifter with a flair for the theatric. A cunning and sadistic shapeshifter who had the Dickson household under surveillance for days, maybe even weeks before she struck. How else could she have known that the boy was trying to summon a demon? Why else would she stage the scene to use that as her cover? And I fell for it, hook, line, and sinker. Heh. Touche, Doctor Archeville. Some psychic, indeed."

"The question now is, why did she go to all this trouble? If her motive was simple bloodlust, there are easier ways to sate it. If robbery was the motive, there are more lucrative targets that would require less effort. So what was she after?"

[Avenger Assembled]

It was late when Avenger finally returned to the house, the sun just beginning to set on his wasted day. He had to work fast if he was going to come up with something to show the others; some proof that he was more than just a creepy voice in the dark. Behind the mask as he smoothly slipped into the attic, Jack was acutely conscious of his own monstrosity. How easy would it have been for him to be the monster of Riverside? The thought was shockingly easy; he even had the claws and teeth carefully hidden behind his humanoid guise, not to mention the desire for blood and carnage that never quite faded.

Concentrating in the dark in the quiet half-built attic, Avenger opened his mind to the past. I am Jack Faretti. I am a monster. Set a monster to catch a monster...

[N/A]

The Scarab knelt down to the ground, spread her arms to her sides, and looked skyward, her eyes closed. "I'll find her the old-fashioned way - by looking." Slamdance could see a glowing red aura form around her. A translucent apparition of The Scarab seemed to stand up out of her body and fly up through the rock. Then another, and another, until dozens of them poured out from her still form simultaneously.

"You can't hide from me. I will find you, if I have to look under every rock in Freedom City. Come out, come out, wherever you are... She remained motionless and unresponsive for a good half-hour.