A cold day in hell [invite]

A small amount of precipitation had begun to fall upon the city of Chicago, Illinois, another stop upon his seemingly endless sojourn, though to where the male was not quite sure. It started off as clouds gathering in the sky and soon enough it was rain falling down upon the city, blanketing it in an ominous moisture that seemed to soak everything it touched in some way. Ryan pulled the hood over his head, keeping the rain from falling onto him, though it was not like it would soak him anyway, he was immune to getting wet and cold did not hold any effect on him. His clothing however could get as wet as it always could, which at least gave off the illusion of getting wet, and if he wanted, the water would soak his own body like anyone else’s. Hazel eyes peered from underneath the hood of the overly large jacket, lips forming a severe line.

It had been years since he last had a place that he could settle down in, a  long while since he could truly relax, and perhaps even just grow complacent. The male had been traveling for as long as he could remember, though one could say that his memory was a short one anyway, so he did not try too hard to recall anything. Underneath the plastic canopy of the bus stop sat an old woman wearing a rather thick looking coat, one that was meant to keep the cold out, as well as the rain that was falling upon her. It was not unusual for the weather to be cold in this section of the country, or so he could tell, and the rain was not always something that was unexpected. In fact, he had a feeling that his appearance would go unnoticed.

The homeless within the city were numerous and he had no problem hitting up a shelter, they had their uses. So long as he had a safe place to stay, and at least a little food, then the male would be pleased with what he had, even if it were rather scant. The young male had no intention of stepping onto a bus, no, that required money that he did not have and he had no idea where he was supposed to be going, only that he was supposed to be going somewhere. Hands were buried into his pocket, feeling over something, probably wet crumpled paper from something that he had eaten earlier, a day or two ago. His stomach gurgled lowly as the male looked up to the sky, a few droplets of rain falling against his face, eyelids blinking rapidly in response to it.

Even though the rain was something that always followed him, and occasionally annoyed it; it always soothed him as it washed over him. He knew that it was him that caused the constant storms around him, but he did not begrudge these things, they were what they were. The male pulled his hood back, letting the rain fall over his hair, slowly dampening the medium brown locks and flattening it with thin fingers. It would likely be another night without food, another night he would have to deal without it anyway, and that slightly annoyed him, yet not as much as his stomach which let out a low gurgle. A hand rushed to it, pressing against his abdomen for a moment before pulling away as he looked forward, the woman that was sitting upon the bench still there, shivering. With a deep sigh he ducked into the alleyways that were always there when one looked for them, shivering slightly as he did.

Little did he knew what lurked in the shadows.

The noise in the alley was somewhat drowned out by the rain, but it was fairly audible for someone who walked in. Someone had exited through the emergency exit, loudly. The door was ajar and the figure who emerged wore a hospital gown, her face covered by bandages. She cursed loudly in a Glasweigan-Scottish dialect, which would mean anyone who followed British reality tv shows understood her curses to be varying words for human genitals.

The woman's lack of grace was compounded by her condition, as she limped around the alley with an unusual gait. She struck the wall a few times with her hands, then kicked about some trash cans. A homeless man nearby staggered to get up, running away from this person who just emerged from the treatment facility.

"Shit man, those hospital bills must be getting higher every year." The homeless man mumbled as he ran past Deluge.

The patient ended her rampage with a punch to a dumpster, visibly leaving a crumpled impression of her fist, before she too slowly sat down in the rain, as if washed over by despair.

The angry cursing of a woman reverberated through the alleyway, drawing Ryan’s attention to whatever it was that was creating that noise. It was the form of a woman that walked out through the apparent back door of some kind of building, guessing from her clothes it was a kind of hospital. The youth cocked his head curiously to the side, as if unaware of how to deal with the sight of the cursing woman, shrinking into the darkness of the shadows that hugged the walls. He was by no means invisible, but something about the darkness made him feel safe, as if nothing could harm him within it and the rain only made him feel even safer. A low line drew along his lips as he slid along, trying to get a better view of the cursing woman with a face wrapped in bandages.

While others would have been scared of the raging woman, he was only slightly unnerved, knowing fully well that he had everything he needed around him. One of the trashcans skittered along from the force of her blow, rolling to his feet and stopping with a dull thud on his scuffed nike. A low humming sound emanated from his throat as the male watched her from the shadows, more than aware now that she was not human, but some kind of metahuman. ”Hey…you okay?” He asked, voice shaking ever so lightly as if betraying that he was somewhat awkward around this new person, the dent within the dumpster only distressing him internally further.

He did not want her turning her wrath upon him and in turn reducing the poor boy to a pile of broken bones, broken bones in pain. The rain would begin to pick up slightly, mirroring the metahumans apprehensive state with the woman at the moment.

"Who... Who's there?!" The woman spoke in a distressed tone, her voice made hoarse from holding back tears. She bothered to get up and take a step back away from Deluge, towards a street lamp but still hidden in the shadow.

She took a moment to catch her breath and speak coherently. "I'm not... I'm not barmy if that's what you mean, yank. Ain't gonna hurt anybody either... cept maybe my beastly boss lady... completely gormless about a British soldier's honor." She said, reassuring the young man she was no danger to anyone but herself, and whoever her boss was.

"Listen to me, talking a load of Codswallop... Better you ogle what's happened to get me so buggered off eh?" She walks back into one of the alley lights, and Deluge would see this very british blonde woman had sleek cybernetic arms and legs, far too thin to be exoskeletons... She had lost all four limbs. Her left eye opening and closing as it glowed red.

The woman composes herself, and gives an Open handed salute, her joints giving off a slight whirring sound as she moved snappily. "...Name's Bernadette St. Croix... Captain Bernadette St. Croix. who might you be lad, faffing around in the rain in a dark alley? More importantly, you wanna find a nice warm pub to get out of this deluge?"

The woman reacted distressed, unable to see the male that was perhaps only a few feet from her within the darkness of the alleyway. Ryan took a step from the shadows, making himself easily visible as he let his mind process the womans strange accent, cocking his head to the side as if trying to figure out what she was saying. One thing that he did not quite understand was the accent, which was something he could not place. Maybe it was some kind of English accent, or whatever it was that they called it. A few droplets of rain down his face, some of it attempting to run into his eyes as he blinked the water away. ”Just me.” He added quickly to avoid any chances that the woman would mistake him for a threat and possibly punch him.

She said something about being barmy, though the meaning of the term did not find itself recognized, leaving the young male even more confused. He of course understood the term yank, which was something someone would call an American, not that he really saw any negative connotation behind the word, just that it was being used. Well he was curious about what had happened, and so she revealed it to him, the sleek cybernetic limbs that were adorning her body, where limbs of flesh would have been, hazel eyes widening in shock at the sight of them. To him they appeared to be rather impressive prosthetics, though maybe the female did not feel the same way towards them.

”The names Ryan.” The young male answered pulling the hood over his head, and letting it serve as the barrier between him and the rain. While he could not succumb to the cold it was still slightly annoying to him. ”And yeah, somewhere warm sure as hell beats this cold.” he said giving a rather convincing fake shiver as he rubbed his upper arms.

They pass through the homeless shelter for a quick stop, Bernadette picking out some second hand clothes, mostly pants, a large shirt and a long coat, as well an umbrella. People stare at the cybernetic woman, who tells them off in an unkind manner. She got changed in the restrooms as most of her torso was still intact.

The Lady found no British Pubs around in this part of the city sadly, and had to settle for an American Diner. In these clothes, few people bothered to look at Bernadette as she took a seat, save for the waitress who saw her robotic hands as she rapped on the table nervously, her joints giving off a slight whirr. The place was small but clean, and quite typical. The menu offered the usual American fare.

"...What'll it be?" Waitress Margie, by her nametag, asked, unable to help but stare at her hands.

"Tea if ya have any. And some fish and chips." She ordered hastily, gesturing Ryan to order. The Diner was fairly empty and food was made in quick time. Bernadette seemed quite hungry, but the moment she started with her utensils she seemed to have a little difficulty controlling her fingers, bending the knife then dropping her fork on the table. "Sod it..." she murmured, settling on holding the fork with her whole hand.

Bernadette took a few moments for herself before speaking with her company.  "...Strange ain't it, followin' a clanker girl into a Diner? You must be new 'round 'ere."

The two would pass through a homeless shelter for a second, Ryan hesitant to accept any clothing and hiding away into a bathroom before simply pulling all of the moisture from his clothing and letting it slip down a sink. He shook his head in the hopes that it would some of the droplets lose from his hair before stepping out and looking for the mechanical woman. It was actually now that he noticed that his jeans had a large hole within the left leg along the knee, revealing the scrawny limb beneath, though it was not like that really mattered, considering that cold had no effect on him.

Following their incursion through the homeless shelter, the two would walk along looking for some kind of pub, though they found nothing. Instead they found a diner, which the male would folloe the female into if only because he had nowhere else to go sitting, down and looking rather curiously at her as if unsure why she was helping him. The waitress would ask what he wanted, and so he answered her. ’I’ll um have that burger thing with the fries.” He said offering a smile, though he was sure not to reveal his teeth, which were tinged slightly yellow.

When you were a vagabond like him, oral hygiene was not always the highest on your list of priorities, though he did well enough to avoid having a mouth full of black stumps. The woman would walk away and he then turned to the cyborg that was sitting across from him, slightly wary of her like he would be of anyone else. Soon enough their food came, and Ryan bit lightly on one of the fries as to not arouse the fact that he was some homeless starving guy.

"I don’t find it too strange, considering we live in a world where people can fry your brain with beams from their eyes and lifts buses over their heads.” Or that he could control water and ice, as well as the whole rain thing anyway. ’But yeah, I’m pretty new to the city.”

"Well, I suppose. This hardly makes me anything like them though... metahumans. You'll be seeing alot more of those in this City. seems like it's turning into some kind of madhouse." Bernadette muttered while eating. She downed her food in record time. The waitress then came with their bill. Lady St. Croix realizes she has nothing on her, but something came out of her arm- her credit card. She hands it to Margie.

"Charge it to this account." The waitress accepts Bernadette's card and smirks. She takes it behind the cash register and puts it in the credit card machine. The

"Are you by yourself lad? got friends or relatives to stay with?" She asked, knowing this big country had a habit of lone people trying to get by. It was the courteous thing to ask in exchange for someone's sympathy.

Several more minutes pass by, and outside Police cars with blaring sirens began to drive past, while crowds of people moved away from the opposite direction. "...I think I spoke too soon, about those things." Bernadette stayed in her seat, still waiting for her card, as she peered out the window. She could make out some police were gathering down the block. Something interesting was happening... over there.

She was not a metahuman, simply a cyborg and that was something that he could tell from just looking at her. Cybernetics did not make someone a metahuman or so he would assume, considering he was not very privy on the science that made someone a metahuman. All Ryan knew was that he was indeed a metahuman and that people would not like him if they knew what he was. All the young male would do was nod while listening to the rather grumpy English woman, taking huge bites out of the burger within his hands, and swallowing the food after chewing on it.

Of course he had no way of paying for the food that they were eating, so there was one problem that he found himself with, yet he could hope that the woman had some way of paying. It was a vain hope, but one that he had anyway. A question that caused the male to audibly groan came, which was if he had friends family, or a home. For a moment the male let the food roll around in his mouth before swallowing it ”No, I don’t have any family to speak of, or friends. I just have myself” Ryan said simply finishing off the burger and then attacking his fries.

The salty taste of the spuds was wonderful, but something about them made the male thirsty, and he nearly kicked himself for not getting a drink to wash the salt down. Well there was always water around him, so that much was taken care of, the boy would never dehydrate. The sound of police sirens caused the young male to jump, looking out the window as if looking for what was causing that sound, though it seemed like nothing he should concern himself with. ’So what do you think all of that is about?”

"I dunno. Must be a crime in progress. Let's just hope its not another one of those metahuman related incidents." Bernadette said nonchalantly, returning to the appreciation of her tea. It seemed the Diner's cooks knew how to brew a cup fit for an English woman. She clutched the cup with both hands, fairly tightly, a slight quiver in her grip.

"Well... that's tough mate. I know lots of people here like that, but we help each other out. Hard to be alone...Especially in these unfriendly times." She said, her tone sympathetic. going back on Deluge's statement.

Bernadette said little more. Then the Diner radio began to play a sickeningly sweet pop tune. "Blimey... this is what passes for music in this country?" She remarked, as the singer's high pitched teeny voice began doling out the cheapest, most mass produced lyrics ever, lyrics so horrible they cannot be posted her without causing the reader ocular damage. Still, it was usual radio fare, and would be over soon enough.

Bernadette's  calm expression turned to a sudden leap to action as she got out of her seat and tackled Deluge, covering him. A second later a massive bass note coming from down the road rocks the neighborhood, shattering virtually every window of the diner, and likely the rest of the block. Glass shards bounce off Bernadette's reinforced back, causing her to cuss. Once it is over, she looks out on the street and sees alot of people knocked down, disoriented from the soundwave. The Diner staff slowly got up as well, exclaiming in colorful language how that royally damaged the establishment- condiments in glass containers spilling on the floor, the cashier opened, and wall decor falling to the ground broken and smashed.

"Okay... that definitely was not normal. Lad, you stay here while I investigate." She leaps through the ruined Diner window and heads towards the scene of the sound.

If it were some kind of metahuman crime in process, he would not want to go anywhere close to something like that, though the male felt as if he had no choice if the woman wanted to check it out. Lucky for him, she did not seem like she really wanted to deal with this as much as he did not want to deal with this, so that was how it would go. ”Probably, seeing how Chicago is like the new New York.” Ryan noted looking through the rainy spattered window, eyes seeming to mist over for a second before he blinked once.

The woman made note of his being alone, and spoke as if she could understand where he was coming from, Ryan blinking a few times as if curious of what she were talking about, not that he would ask. He would nod and then hear what sounded like some form of pop music, frowning slightly as it entered his ear canals. Nothing about it was something that he enjoyed listening to, but the male did tolerate today’s music, though it seemed that his acquaintance did not like it.

It was when something changed within the female’s expression that he found himself worried, and then tackled to the floor. The male let out a small grunt of pain as a loud sound reverberated through the place, and in that moment all of the windows exploded outwards. He was in the middle of chewing on a fry when that had happened, and so the chewed spud was falling down his chin as he heard a small bit of glass land with a silent thud beside him. Something had attacled this place, and the woman protected him, which was a new thing indeed.

Everything was messed up within the establishment, yet luckily he was unharmed. Ryan coughed lowly to himself and crawled to his feet, wiping away something from his clothing out of habit before looking to the female that had told him to stay here while she went to investigate. Slowly peering over the windowsill that once held glass, Ryan sighed deeply, pulling the hood over his head and running after the woman into the pouring rain. If she was going to run into trouble, then likely he would have to help in any way that he could, somehow anyway.

Bernadette reached the line of police cars, seeing car windows shattered and police officers on the ground, their eardrums ruptured and balance gone. The sound had come from the vast lobby of the Radio station building, wherein the scene was set for a hostage taking. Bernadette picks up a pistol, and peered in through a window.

In the middle of the lobby was a large cube, fifteen feet on all sides; closer inspection showed that it was made up of dozens of Amplifiers, aimed out towards the street. Anything glass, like the doors and curtain windows were shattered, as well as the plant pots and vases. and atop the large pile of connected amplifiers was a stable platform... with blonde teenager girl holding a microphone and an electronic guitar. With her were three goons- two had machine guns and another was operating equipment. Behind them were several hostages seated and tied up.

The blonde teenager, one Deborah Green whose song they listened to five minutes ago in the Diner, broadcasts her grief on the mic. "That'll teach you to shut up!...Stupid Record Company! I was promised top spot on the ratings! Three records and a North American tour! I work my ass off and make songs! and then you just dump me?! OVER SKYPE?! AND TAKE MY MONEY!?"

The man she spoke to likely said something to only vex her further.

"...Old? OLD!? DIRTBAG! I'll teach you respect! Boys, sit this guy's face in front of the amps!" The goons slowly lower the man in the business suit down in front of the Amps. He visibly pleads for mercy, as the damage done at that range was going to be catastrophic.

"Fuckin' Teenage Yanks..." Bernadette murmured, hiding below the planting box, staying out of sight. She sees the SWAT team preparing to storm the building, also hiding behind the cars.

"Ma'am, get away from the window. It's dangerous here." They say, clearly and concise, setting up positions near the entrance, staying out of sight.

"Dangerous? You're walking in through the front door facing the giant boom box? You might wanna try something else, yank." Bernadette retorted, looking around at the officers lingering near the front door, face to face with the deranged pop star's improvised doom weapon.

"Funny. You military or something? just leave the situation to us. You should get to safety." The SWAT officer said, crouching behind the ruined cars as the SWAT negotiator started calling out to Deborah over the bullhorn.

Kenya.  Even the roar of open flame is drowned by the indistinguishable garble of crowds of people, charging through the streets like bulls.  The might of a thousand angry merchants is matched against the resolve of several hundred riot police officers.  Their market has been unjustly torn asunder.  The resulting riot began less than an hour ago, and already it's built up the momentum to bring down buildings.  Explosions of tear gas began to rippled through the streets while police lines herded people into focus.

In the midst of the riot were several people, all trying to escape the madness.  The instigators showed little regard, even for the safety of their own.  One small child, running around people in their mad charge, dropped her doll.  As she went back to pick it up, she falls.  Before she can be run over, however, something miraculous occurred.  A streak of white light bolts through the crowd, scooping her and her doll up, then dropped her with her escaping family.  Floating there, in front of them, was the cosmic caregiver, Constellation.  "< Please be on your way to safety.  And be careful >," she says in their native tongue before turning and rushing along to help quell the riot and save anyone endangered by it.

In due time, the red hot tempers have simmered like the blazes in what remained of the demolished market.  The people will have to rebuilt, but it is doable.  Whatever corruption led to this had dispersed.  Connie had just finished dropping off a man in front of his home.  Before he could thank her, something tugged at her consciousness.  Danger in America.  She turned and flew off in a heartbeat.  And once she was far gone, all that could be heard was the faint pop of a sonic boom.

Slowly Ryan would slink along behind Bernadette, making sure that he stayed out of her line of sight but was able to keep up with her fast strides, well or so he tried to do. The rain would fall hard against his face, running down it in rivulets as the rain seemed to only fall harder, in tune with his heart beat almost. His breath came in and out in rapid succession, lungs trying to keep up with the exertion that the male was performing, internally cursing himself for even doing something like this. From what could be ascertained, the problem was taking place in a radio station, one that was being surrounded by the police.

From what he could tell, some kind of sound manipulating metahuman was causing trouble, though for all he knew it was something else entirely. Among the swat officials that he could note of standing in front of the door, one of them were talking to the woman that he had met not so long ago. His eyes narrowed for a moment, as the male pulled the hood over his head, and slowly stalked closer to the crime scene, bits of glass crunching underfoot as he walked along. A negotiator was calling out to the person that was holding the building hostage, Ryan ducking behind the ruined husk of a car and then thinking things over.

Something about this situation was not going well, and he would have to try and make himself useful. Fingertips would dance over one of the glass shards, before the young male pulled himself up from the wreckage, looking for potential place that one of his particular skills could prove useful in this situation. Water would begin to coalesce around his feet, as one of the now deafened officers would take notice of the strange hooded boy seemingly controlling the water. He would turn towards the male, and place an index finger over his mouth before making a shushing noise.

Within that instant his entire body became liquid and slipped into a puddle of water that formed around his feet. The boy was gone as the rain continued to fall, and a puddle not far from the location of the building was where the male would emerge from, reforming from the liquid that he had become. He was pressed against the building, eyes peering through one of the windows that looked into the building, contemplating some way that he could get in. Of course the male could always become water and slip through some crack, but that would only help him so much. So for now he was only scouting and waiting for a chance to reveal itself.

The masked goons spray the SWAT team with machine gun fire, the bullets flying wild but enough to make the officers hesitant and the negotiator back off several steps. Bernadette has enough, and goes from her hiding place and went somewhere else.

Closer enough, one could make out the off-microphone conversations on the Platform. The bound but not-gagged hostages plead with their captor. "Miss Green please let us go! We're just the engineers here!"

"SHUT UP!" Was all she retorted.

"PLease, please, please let me go! I'm sorry Debbie please I'll do anything you want! I'll... I'll get you your tour please!" The Record manager blurted out, begging for his life in tears.

"Go on..." Deborah said, her hand on her guitar pick, literally looking down on the man at the base of all her amplifiers.