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October 15th "You dastardly fiend, what are you going to do to me?" Bombshell delivered the line with all the bored interest of a star practicing lines for a script she had no interest in performing in. It was, perhaps, a little out of place with the scene as she was currently strung up by her wrists and suspended over what she'd mentally termed 'the cauldron of goo'. She glanced down, arching one brow behind her mask and swinging her feet out of the way to watch the slowly bubbling sludge. "I'm not paying extra for a mud bath, you know. They're over rated. I have a much better secrete treatment to keep my skin looking fabulous." She caught some of the chanting to peg it as Greek-ish. Not in the figurative 'sounds Greek to me' but in the actual honest-to-Hercules Greek. "You know, I met Zeus once. Handsy fellow. Well, to be entirely forthright, he wasn't actually the gold-and-shining god at the time. He'd possessed a mortal man to do that thing he does. He does do it well, I have to admit." Bombshell wiggled her wrists a little, looking up at the bindings before her attention went back to the cultists. She smiled at them, a wicked flash of crimson red lips below her black mask. "Lucky for me, my little encounter was post the invention of the pill so I have only fond memories for my reminder. Do you happen to know if he's worked something out with Hestia since then to circumvent that? Dratted fertility gods. Give me a hedonist any day." The tumblers twitched in the manacles but the chanting was getting awfully loud now and Bombshell had some mild concerns that they were going to get to the big finale before she was ready to take her bow. "Dionysus now, I haven't met him but I'm sure I would like to. No maenads, however, I prefer my hedonism without that extra edge of madness. The ratty hair thing, I just can't pull it off." Ca-click. "Shall I give you my card... no?" Bombshell caught the shackles with her fingertips as they opened and swung her legs, enjoying the way that the chanting dissolved into squawks and protests as she tucked and tumbled her way to a tower of boxes. Crouching, she offered them a mocking salute. "Well, I'd love to see what all that was about, but I'm afraid it's just past my bed time. No, don't get up. I can let myself out. Thanks, by the way. You have, oooh, I'd guess two minutes before that little beacon I set off leads all my cape and cowled friends to your little hidey-hole. Ta!" And with a taunting laugh, the ex-thief was gone.

October 31st. Going Solo Stesha woke up that morning missing Derrick fiercely. That was odd in itself, not the missing Derrick part, but the waking up. Missing Derrick had become a near-constant ache inside her, with him so far away, saving people so strange that her skin would burn if she entered their corrosive atmosphere. He'd been able to come home for the occasional weekend, but even the last of those had been in September. She wasn't only lonely, she was worried sick. What could have happened to him to leave him incommunicado and so far beyond the range of help? She'd had to call off the wedding, of course, telling her parents the truth and letting them come up with excuses on her behalf. Now every time she did an altar blanket or handed a bride the bouquet she'd take down the aisle, some part of her just wanted to cry. It wasn't fair. In any case, it was the waking up part that was weird, since it certainly wasn't her usual habit to sleep at night, especially not to fall asleep on the couch in the middle of her favorite TV show and stay there all night! The unusual rest had not done anything good for her back, or for her stomach which decided to throw last night's taco's back in her face (though only metaphorically, thank God.) This bachelorette lifestyle was not good for her! It didn't help that winter was coming, and the lack of sun from that plus all the work she was doing meant she wasn't getting all the solar energy she was used to. But she could at least change that, she decided. Tonight she would turn all her sunlamps on herself and bask in them till she felt totally recharged, not to mention nicely warmed. She was preoccupied enough with that idea that it took her several minutes to register the fact that things were happening outside. The screaming was what she noticed first, and it had her racing to the window. People were running past, pursued by hordes of... were those zombies? Crap! Something had obviously gone very wrong with her tidy world. Fleur tossed on her costume and zipped out to the street, making her way through the crowds that surged and panicked. As she went, she moved people to safety, one at a time or in big groups, anything to get them out of the way of the undead teeth! Her sanctuary would hold them safe long enough for her to at least figure out exactly where the threat was coming from, and where a safe place on this world might be! As she moved through the crowd, she inevitably came to the trailing edge, where most of the action was happening. Here things got trickier. She ran through the crowd as though she were playing a game of freeze tag where she was it. Tag a civilian, he was teleported off to Sanctuary. Tag a zombie, off to the dimensional pocket purgatory. Stesha rapidly lost count of how many of each she tagged, and she took a few tags herself, though nothing that would take her out of the fight. At least the sun was out, so the cuts and scrapes healed themselves quickly once she put down her hood and exposed her hair. If it had been nighttime, she'd have been in big trouble. When things got especially hairy, she whipped out the rest of her arsenal, wrapping and tripping zombies with long vines, throwing them into buildings, even animating the trees themselves to form a protective perimeter around her all-too-squishy human body. It was a shock to suddenly turn around and find that there was no one left to save or fight. The downtown intersection she was in was empty in all directions, not a zombie nor a civilian to be found! She was sure it was pretty tight quarters in her sanctuary, to say nothing of the small dimensional pocket, but it would be okay for the moment. Exhausted and a little woozy, Stesha leaned against a lamppost and let the weak autumn sun beat down on her head. She'd done it by herself, she realized. The Freedom League hadn't been there, Derrick hadn't been there, Taylor or another hero far more powerful than herself hadn't been there. She'd come a long way since she'd first become a hero, and now she really could take on threats on her own. She really hadn't expected that achievement to make her feel so lonely. No time to dwell on that now, though! With one last look around, Stesha teleported away, looking for another trouble spot that needed a hero of its own.

October 31st, 2010, late afternoon. Riverside Park Fire in the Sky “My superiors and I appreciate you all allowing me to accompany you all. It’s a real honor just being in the presence of even one of you. Let alone the entire League!†Victory floats above the ground, his jets mostly aimed towards the ground, with just a couple on the back of his shoulders slowly moving him forward, a smile on his face. Alongside him in the sky, a familiar figure, of similar colors to Victory, smiles and shakes his head. “Now, no need to be so humble. We’re willing to accept the extra hand. But next time, make sure your superiors let us know earlier.†A few hours before, Freedom Hall: “So wait…you’re telling me Director Powers sent you here…on a hunch?†Bowman was adjusting the fletching on his arrows, looking up to give their visitor a doubtful look. “Well, I don’t totally understand it, myself. But those are my orders. With all the craziness that’s been going on this month, the higher-ups at AEGIS thought it was important to pool our resources, just in case. Something big’s going down, and we just want to be sure that all bases are covered.†Victory, for his part, was doing his best to sound professional, but it was pretty tough to maintain that front when he’s in the presence of the Freedom League, of all people! …Although their skepticism is making it much easier to keep calm. As he awaits their response, they exchange looks among each other, as if silently asking each other what they think. But before they all seem to come to a consensus, Daedalus steps forward, with a smile on his face. “Well, I for one think we could use the extra hand, all things considered. Unless anyone else has a good reason not to accept?†None of them seem to have any direct objection, so it seems they’re agreed…. Present, The Freedom League and their guest begin to slow their collective movement as they begin to approach the Centurion’s Memorial. An odd place to be led when there are other places already in trouble, but they were assured that they were needed here. Victory, not having any personal experience with any of them, finds it even harder to believe, and he stays on guard as they begin to fly down to the ground. They had been following a lead that Daedalus has gotten. Something about the source of all the strange supernatural goings-on this month. According to his information, there had been a weakening in the barrier between the world of the physical and mystical. And the source of that weakening was where they were headed. But, as they began to land, Victory noticed something odd. With all his various methods of sight and detection, there was no sign of anything out of the ordinary, energy-wise. He remained cautious, not sure what was going to happen here. “Alright, Daedalus,†Captain Thunder asks, “where’s this anomaly you were speaking of?†The rest of the members of the League seem to be wondering that as well, as none of them seem to notice anything out of the ordinary. “We’ll be able to see it in just a moment…I have to prepare a few things first…†As he speaks, Daedalus begins to walk over to the foot of the statue itself. Victory, for his part, stays quiet, but that weird feeling just won’t be shaken. Keeping all his various sight methods cycling, he notices something…a bit odd. Looking over to Daedalus, his infravision seems to be picking up an odd build-up of heat growing from inside. Much higher than any human should without any corresponding power. Keeping his eye on him, Daedalus continues. “There we go…this should do it…†As he speaks, Daedalus looks to be messing with a device in his hands, with his back turned to the League. With a grin on his face, he turns to face them, his eyes having suddenly switched to a glowing red. His eyes catching on to it, Victory looks again, to see the heat having built inside to incredible levels! Now he knows why he had such a bad feeling: “EVERYONE DOWN!†Turning to Johnny Rocket, he makes a quick decision. “JOHNNY! FOLLOW MY LEAD!†Not quite sure what he means, but ready for action all the same, Johnny watches as Victory blasts forth, spinning in circles, just in time to see Daedalus explode! And a hell of an explosion at that, as the entire sky seems to light up. But Johnny thinks fast, and knew what Victory meant, as he joins Victory in spinning around the detonating figure. As Johnny goes around the base, Victory circles up and up, the two of them creating a powerful vacuum, funneling the explosion up into the air, trapping it and directing it away from the League and the Centurion’s statue. Heading higher and higher, Victory’s cyclone brings the swirling flame far, far above the clouds, his speed pushing well over even his normal limits. As he moves, the flames smash against him now and then, causing some nasty damage against his armor, but he keeps on, until he finally funnels it all up out of the atmosphere. One it was gone, he and Johnny slow to a stop. Victory, worn from both the speed and the constant assault the explosion hit him with, floats in the air for a moment, panting and charred, but with a smile on his face. And then he begins to fall… Tumbling back down to Earth, it seems like it will be quite an impact, surely enough to do even him in. But he’s okay with it. Give his life to save Earth’s greatest heroes? Good trade… As the darkness over his eyes lifts, Victory finds himself back at a familiar lab, as pain shoots through him. Did I survive, he wonders. As his eyes open, he looks about, seeing the people who work on him all smiling, relieved to see him come to. At his side, one of the technicians carefully lays a hand on his shoulder. “Hey, V! Welcome back. We were worried about ya. You really pushed that body of yours there.†Victory smiles, shrugging lightly. “Well, I knew you guys built me up strong enough to handle it. Was everyone else okay?†“Yup! And they said to feel free to ask them for help any time. They said it’s the least they could do.†Victory laughs, and lays back down. “Thank God. Although….†If that Daedalus was just a bomb…where was the real one…?

10pm, Friday 15th October Geckoman sauntered casually out of the alleyway, leaving a couple of hapless muggers tied up with a tracer beacon for Freedom's Finest to come collect them. "All in all, a good night's work," he said to the air, as he reached into his pocket for a Twinkie. Taking a deep bite out of it, he suddenly found himself pinned to the wall by a dark-haired woman with pale skin and red eyes. Oh, and the fangs. "How about I take a bite out of you?" Her breath smelt like the grave, and of blood and gore. But Geckoman remained unabashed. "My centre's only slightly creamy, I should warn you," he said, looking disappointedly at his dropped snack. "A little stale, I think." The woman effortlessly hefted him over her head and threw him out into the street. He rolled up into a crouch, backflipping over the vampire as she surged at him for another strike. "Dear Lord, woman, can't you find a 7-11?" Parrying a lightning fast blow, he followed up with a swift gut punch. Vampire Lady didn't even flinch, shrugging off the blow as if it was nothing. "I hunger. Can't you smell the death in the air? It makes me HUNGRY." Her jaws lunged at Geckoman's throat, only deflected by a quick spinning kick. It threw the woman off-balance and onto her back. "Well, I was hungry!" shouted Geckoman, sounding like he was genuinely angry. "My twinkie!" He rushed in again, the two combatants moving ridiculously fast, striking and parrying so fast the air hissed around them. And, in a flash, Geckoman was behind her, leaping through the window of a jeweler's. He ducked and dived through the glass display cases of the dark shop, inspecting the rings and watches and bracelets as he did. "Oooh, how many carats? C'mon, lady, let me buy you a little something." With a feral snarl, she grabbed him by the neck just as he'd palmed an object from one of the smashed cases. Right, I hope I can identify precious metals on sight. He held his hand out, palm up, a beautiful silver ring held in it. "Crazy vampire lady, will you marry me?" Her grip loosened in shock, and she just stared at the green-clad teenager. "It's your soulless red eyes, they just make me wanna spend the rest of my unlife with you." To her credit, Vampire Lady rallied admirably, raising her other hand to punch Geckoman in the face. But he was faster, slipping the ring on. "Yes, Geckoman, I will marry me!" And, with a quick one-two, the silver ring gouged a huge dent across the vampire's face. He followed up swiftly, smashing her head through one of the few undamaged glass displays, before grabbing a chair and snapping its leg off. "STELLLLLAAAAAAAAAAA!" he cried, thrusting the stake into the vampire's heart, leaving her hanging lifeless and unmoving with her head unceremoniously trapped inside a jeweler's cabinet. At which point he leaned up against the cabinet, knowing the silent alarm would soon have the police and the owner running. At which point he'd need to explain away the damage to the shop, and to a very expensive silver engagement ring. "Ho-hum," murmured the Geckoman as he took up his guard duty, pulling out another Twinkie and biting into it. Then he paused and sniffed the air. For a second, if only for that amount of time, he thought he'd smelt death. And he got a bad feeling about the future.

8pm, Sunday, 31st October, 2010 Hallowe'en. Samhain. All Hallow's Eve. A night of ghosts, ghouls and spectres. And also the night that Equinox stood in the middle of her street, facing down the swarm of zombies coming towards her. Some blurred to and fro in zig-zagging paths, weaving between their slower comrades. Some punched down on car bonnets, sending them flipping up and over their heads. And some, the ones nearest the powerful witch... some were burned to ashes. Blazing with white light, she refused to give an inch. As soon as a zombie got near enough to claw at her, she casually parried the gesture with a force field of solid white light, and spun her wand around to hurl it flying away with a burst of wind stronger than a hurricane. All the while, between cutting through swathes of zombies and fending off their attacks, she burnt parts of a pentagram into the ground around her. The acrid smell of molten concrete surrounded her as it slowly took shape. Then, in one fluid gesture, Equinox finished the circle, causing it to form into a glowing nimbus of white light. Ravening undead claws and fangs broke and were turned away from it, as she began invoking to her Lord and Lady, wand raised high. "Spirit and soul, flesh and bone, Against this horde, I stand alone, Beloved Goddess, aid my toil, Blessed God, empower my hand, Return these creatures to the soil, And bring peace to this land!" In that moment, waves of blindingly white force exploded forth from the circle, ripping and tearing at the mystic energy empowering these beasts. Lifeless corpses crumbled and fell to the floor, some returning to grave dust in the process. Equinox began laughing as the power flowed through her, cutting them down en masse. Then she felt the powerful will hit her like a freight train. While the nearest zombies had all fallen, some of those further away hadn't fallen, and were coming at her with renewed vigour. Hades. A voiceless cry of defiance raised itself from her lungs as the dark god's will drove her to her knees. They were coming at her, her spell was failing, and there was nothing she could do but fall to her knees, the mental assault blurring her vision with white spots and spirals. The barriers were down, and Hades' power was no longer so restricted. Hand tearing at her pentacle, Siobhan managed to tug it off, snapping the chain. It works both ways. She stood up, raising her pentacle high. Spirit, fire, water, earth, air; one point for the five fundamental powers of the universe. "I fear not thy power, thou should'st fear mine, I fear not thy spells, or your undead kine, My spell will work, Now, go away, zombies, GO!" With one phenomenal effort of will, Equinox's blinding light went out, the charms in her pentagram dissipating, her own wards gone with them, every ounce of magic power and will she possessed, hurled at the stonewall the deity had placed upon her spell. And shattered a hole clean through it, scouring every zombie she could sense for a good distance around her. Siobhan fell down once more in her pentagram, breathing hard. I won. But she forced herself to get up again, casting her great white wings around her once more. And, flying off towards the city center, she knew she had to finish this, and help find the culprits.

October 31st, 2001 (Sunday) As the black spots of the teleport faded, Trevor found himself in a small oasis among the chaos the dead rising vengefully against the living. The stink of death was heavy in the air even through the filter built into his featureless black mask, mixed with the acrid scent of an exploding gas main and the palpable stench of fear. For a moment, the black clad figure hesitated, distracted by a turmoil of emotions that had no place on the battlefield. Self doubt and bitter reproach whispered in his ears, made the escrima sticks feel heavy in his hands. The one of the shambling corpses turned its milky white eye to look at him, and the world through his lenses crystallised into a darker shade of red. His body sprang into action, guided by muscle memory and powered by a cold, articulate rage as he leapt through flame and ash a bring a matte black stick crashing across a brittle skull with devastating effect. A treaded boot forced a second zombie back for the instant it took the dual weapons to come down again with a crack. A handful of small spheres whipped out in a broad arc, igniting with explosive force as they connected with the undead mob as its members toppled in sickening, flaming heaps. Midnight was only peripherally aware of his teammates’ assaults nearby, his attention focused with pinpoint fervour on the next target, when a plaintive cry reached his ears. On the other side of the thickest mass of monsters, a small child huddled against a brick wall, cut off from the rest of the fleeing civilians, eyes wide with terror. The sound drew the zombie’s attention as well, and they began to advance on easy prey. A pressure stud released a three inch long blade from the tip of one escrima stick even as Midnight’s arm whipped forward, sending the spear hurtling through the air to skewer the back of a desiccated, exposed brain. Sprinting forward, he cleared a path with his remaining stick, abandoning it as it stuck in the tar-like visage of a moaning horror. Another handful of incendiary pellets cleared another foot of distance, even as a fallen but still moving creature ripped at the bottom of his jacket with boney digits. Ignoring it, Midnight pressed on through the throng, increasingly aware of his deadly race with each step. Obsidian and blood red eyes narrowed as a flick of his wrists extended short, steel points from the fingers of his gloves. Grasping hands pulled at his side, and he responded by raking talons through a rotting throat, ripping off a chunk of flesh before a second brutal strike with the butt of his other palm knocked the rest of the zombie’s head clean off its shoulders. In the visceral melee, his tattered jacket was pulled open, ragged edges flaring of behind him as he moved until he stood towering above the cowering child, a dark, indistinct figure of shadow. It took the space of several heavy breaths for Midnight to realise that the zombies in the immediate are had been irradiated, as his friends covered his flank and blind spots. Even so, the small boy recoiled from the inky wraith looming over him, terrified. Stepping back, Midnight turned away, pausing as he did. He considered telling the child not to be afraid, as a nearly hysterical woman ran through the street to retrieve her son, but decided to remain silent, stalking back toward his teammates. After all, it was only natural. Deep down, everyone was afraid of the dark.

October 10th (Sunday), 6:49pm Visiting hours ended at five, but the people at the hospital were always really nice about letting her stay a little later. Her chair faced the bed as she spoke softly to the sleeping boy, "You know they are having a in a few weeks, the little ones are very excited about it. I passed by and they have decorated the floor that they stay on. Apparently they are going to go around to gather sweets from all the rooms and Ms. Cynthia suggested I bring some bags to share with them." Watching his face, she looked for a response or something that seemed to show that he was listening, but there was nothing. There was no moment or sound that was his own. His breathing was light, and toned out by the beeping of the machine they had put onto his heart. His body didn't move, so the sheets around his bed were always flat and wrinkle free. But still he was still here because she was still here. She knew she was still here because her shadow loomed over his bed and became longer as the sun was setting. It was time for her to leave. Outside of the room seemed a bit of an inverse of what she had seemed. Even in a place for the sick, everyone seemed so full of life and because of the holiday they seemed to be in constant movement. Several nurses were putting up little decorations for each room, while doctors passed them with the look that they had something important to be doing. There was nobody around that was not in white, and on this hall there was no one who would walk around in those paper dresses. This was the floor where they kept people like Dimitrius, people who though they looked alive so void of any real life, and when she went down the stairs she would pass the place where there were people with no life. The idea of passing the morgue almost always made Etain's skin crawl just a little, but it was preferable to the alternative. She could not understand how humans could so easily ride in those little metal boxes. It was not a long walk, three floors perhaps of her walking directly in the middle of the stairs away from the hand rails. Getting to the bottom she used her umbrella to push the safety bar and walk quietly down the hallway to the hospitals lobby. This time, she was not alone in her walk, as she moved down she had to push herself against the wall as one of those metal beds was walked along with those plastic bags that they sometimes stored the life impaired. It was something she had seen before, though she almost always averted her eyes to the scene as they moved and she quickened her pace down the hallway. However, there was something strange. As she moved down the hallway even as they past she saw a slight trail that began just a few feet in front of her and passed, though faint at first, it was there a sort of magic she could not identify at first. It was this that made her turn full circle to see the people disappearing with the body into the morgue and the trail following it. Her eyes wide and her objective forgotten she sprinted down the hall and to the door. Catching the door before it closed she gave it a shove before screaming, "Move away, move away now!" They stared at her before a couple one of them moved towards her trying to ask what was wrong, the other however continued to unzip the bag, "No, wait, it is evil, move away." She ran past slipping from the other guys grip and shoving the worker out of the way as a hand moved out of the bag and grabbed onto her. She nearly yelped as she glanced at her, though the image of the moving copse might of scared her the aura was what did the work. She very nearly felt like she was going to be sick as she looked at the twisting horrid magic that wafted off of it as it tried to pull itself closer to her. She was almost entranced by the horror that she did not notice it pulling her hand closer to it. However when she saw it open it's mouth she came back to reality and lifted her umbrella with her other hand. Banging down hard onto it's face she hit the vile thing so it would let go, so that she could look away so that she would never have to look at it again. There was no blood splatter at the plastic umbrella started to crack from the impact and the creature kept pulling her in. The umbrella split on the still moving zombie and feeling it go limp she threw it away before the zombie reached out and grabbed her other hand. Feeling the additional cold grip she reeled and pulled backwards and took the zombie off the cart and onto the floor bring her with it. She nearly screamed again as it tried to grab onto her dress. Her free hand went into her purse and searched, searched for something. Grabbing something long and thin she pulled from her purse one of the needles Ms. Cynthia had bought her that she was supposed to use with yarn. She pulled it out and held it at it's end. The zombie was trying to pull itself out using her for leverage and as it grabbed onto the front of her dress she screamed as she plowed the pointed end of the plastic needle into it's eye. It was only then that the creature finally let go of her and that the hated magic started to fade. The watching hospital workers stared at her as she stood up and moved as far away as she could from the corpse leaning against the cool metal containers even as they stung because they could not scare her more then that horrid creature, "What the hell was that?" She looked over at him her voice strangled, "Evil"

October 31st (Sunday) The Way It's Supposed To Be Think think think think. An explosion erupted from Edge's feet as the gas main underneath the street burst, waves of fire and flame bursting forth and incinerating the zombies around the Claremont trio in smoke and ash. Can't keep breaking the street forever, Mark thought a little desperately. I guess I can crush them one at a time if necessary. They'd teleported into the Fens, right in front of a heavily barricaded high school full of civilian refugees. Or even better, the bus! Flashes of black light came from Mark's hands, reaching out and grabbing the school bus, dropping it into the middle of the crowd of zombies and bouncing it back and forth like a bus. As the undead hordes growled and regrouped, a thought came to Mark. This isn't right. Wander was a wrecking machine with her blade, dispatching zombies almost faster than Mark could see, and just at the edge of his vision Midnight was doing something he couldn't quite follow with razor-edged bombs that tore through zombies like lightning strikes. The world shouldn't be like this. It was not a helpful thought under the circumstances, but as another zombie dragon (and where on Earth were THEY coming from?) swept in from above, it came to Mark again. Look at this! There are zombies everywhere, Wander is doing her scary killing machine thing, Midnight is...well, he's on edge about something besides the zombies, anyway! The light pole overhead came tumbling down on the front line of the horde, most of them exploding on contact with the power of electricity. (Mark hadn't done well in shop class.) My friends are upset, there's a flesh-eating horde on the loose...my dad is gone, my mom is upset all the time...the world isn't supposed to be like this! Unbidden, Mark thought about that false reflection of Freedom City his father had made. He reached back and hurled Erin at the zombie dragon overhead, the teen warrior appearing in a flash of black bubbles as she severed the great beast's head with a single swing of the blade he'd made for her. I bet this never happened there. I mean, people were really HAPPY! Was it so wrong if freedom was curtailed a little? There was a crash from beneath his feet, and the teen heroes gathered together again even as something began punching through the streets. Oh wow, an old-time subway car...full of zombie hobos. Aw, man! I'm almost sure this didn't happen there. Why should people have to trade THIS for getting freedom?As zombies exploded and split and squealed, Mark realized the mistake he'd been making. The same mistake Dad made too. You can't build a better world by turning back the clock to a time that's gone, even if you do think it was better. If you want to build a better world, you've got to go out and make it yourself. One step at a time. He blasted a wall of zombies, and they all had a moment's pause as silence fell and they realized this neighborhood was cleared out. The world shouldn't be like this. Monsters shouldn't be trying to scare and hurt people, thought Mark with a little nod. But you don't stop the bad guys by taking freedom away from everyone else. You stop the bad guys by...stopping the bad guys. You build a better world yourself, not by taking away the world people already have. And how do you do that? He looked at Erin, covered in zombie guts, and Trevor, catching his breath. You do it with your friends at your side, fighting for what's right. They'd had some differences between each other lately, but that was all forgotten in the heat of the moment. And we'll stop this, repair the city and help all the hurt people, fix things with my mom, and everything will be great! He realized Erin and Trevor were staring at him expectantly. "Oh, right. Yeah, we've still got twelve other neighborhoods to hit. Sorry, forgot. We're going now!" And in a flash of black, they were on the move again, and back into the fray. Maybe this world wasn't so bad after all.

Saturday, October 30th 2010, 11:04 PM. Downtown, The Fens. With all the grace of an inebriated gazelle, Momentum bounced from rooftop to rooftop, nearly falling off the shabbier shingles in the Fens once or twice as he gazed down to street level from his lofty perch, street lamps the only indication of illumination below as he continued to feign his super-spy routine. It all started with the pre-Halloween party he had no business attending - but did so out of peer pressure anyway - when the young teen hero began hearing rumors of a ‘party after the party’ by some of the FDR High students in attendance. Chief amongst these impromptu informants from the party that Momentum had been interested in following was one of his own classmates by the name of Don Carson. It wouldn’t have even struck him as being all that weird were it not for the increase in Zombie Powder drug-related activity in the Midtown district by some gang calling themselves ‘The Red Devils,’ and Don – much to Ashley’s surprise – had suddenly begun sporting their colors, a clear sign of the influence from the Red Devils. After a bit of nosing around at the party proper, Noah discovered his hunch was right on the money with his assumption, solidifying the link between the party and increase in drugs at FDR High. It had to be some sort of recruitment drive… if not something more sinister! And so here he was, acting like an imitation ninja, spying on his classmates from on-high in an attempt to locate and crash the drug-fueled extravaganza. With each breath of the chilly autumn air Noah took, the small gaggle of party-goers continued on, oblivious to his presence. It wasn’t long until they reached their intended location; a dilapidated apartment complex devoid of working street lights in the heart of the Fens. The walls were heavily adorned with the tags of the Red Devils, and two large, burly Latino men in gang-affiliated bandanas stood guard by the front door of one of the ground floor apartments. Even from so far away, Momentum’s ears rang as the music from inside the two-story projects blared out, the bass no doubt shaking the solemn-looking foundation. Like some sort of paragonesque peeping tom, Noah watched as Don and the two rather intimidating men exchanged friendly greetings just before he and his small entourage entered the building, the brief opening of the door enough to send even louder resonations of obnoxiously loud music into the crisp October air. It looked like this was the right place. â€Not like I was having fun or anything...†Momentum noted sarcastically unto himself, taking a deep breath before descending to street level and beginning his stride towards the brutish gentlemen and their obvious hive of Zombie Powder-riddled shenanigans. The two men scoffed and laughed, unimpressed by the scrawny kid in the hoodie and goofy goggles sauntering their way. They wouldn’t be laughing much longer though. “What ‘chu ‘sposed to be?†the larger of the two men chided, pistols now in plain sight tucked in the front of their waists as Momentum grew closer. The pair of armed thugs seemed unusually calm – almost lucid – in their mannerisms as they halted the boy’s admittance into the loud auditorium beyond the brick apartment complex’s simple hollow-core door. “Maybe you’re here for the ‘party’? Wanna be part of los Diablos Rojos, holmes?†Momentum needed to be quick, the men armed to the teeth with handguns and sporting an intoxicated look in their eyes that made them seem even more intimidating beyond their various Voodoo trinkets gleaming in the florescent light. “Nuh uh.†the spunky little kineticist retorted somberly even as his protective bearer shimmered briefly into existence around his fragile little body, fist aglow with rippling red energy in preparation for the slugfest about to commence, a sense of fear lodged in his voice. This could be his only chance to catch the small apartment complex filled with ZP-dealers with their pants down, and an ample opportunity to reduce the Red Devils’ surplus in the process. There was no room for error. He wouldn’t blow it. He couldn’t blow it, or it might end up too late for some of the party-goers. “I’m here to crash it!â€