Welcome to Gaia! ::

[Yay, first post!]

Here he was; finally away from the chaos that was New York. Things were
starting to get a little too sticky, even for him. Gavin thought he could handle himself, but with more of those 'gifted' people showing up, it was getting a little crowded. Plus, the offer to transfer here was better than the offer to stay. It wasn't like he had any family there anyway. Most of them didn't care if he was alive or not.

He looked at the new building he was going to occupy. His new living quarters seemed a little smaller, but he didn't need all that stuff back in his old apartment anyway. Plus, they were pretty old in the first place. And since he was going to start anew, might as well get some new stuff. He always did want a Temperpudic bed.

Gavin was wearing civilian clothes. A pair of black jeans and a t-shirt with The Killers on it, and a pair of black Converse high tops was what this young detective wore as he carried a closed box of office supplies into his building. Thank god there was an elevator. Having to walk up and down four flights of stairs was good exercise, but Gavin didn't feel like doing that with a heavy boxes.

Three times he went up and down with the other movers. Boxes full of china, lamps, and even posters came into his new apartment and laid at the middle of the living room. He hadn't yet bought new furniture, or a media center, but that can come once he unpacked. Even his bedroom was bare except of his boxes of clothes. Things were looking good for now. However, he did have to check-in with his new department the next day, and remembering from previous experience, orientation would take half his day. That should be fun...

"Reports have been flying in of criminals with superhuman abilities terrorizing the city. In past weeks there has been numerous reports of similar activity in other major cities across the nation. Authorities are urging all citizens to remain indoors or evacuate to..."

Isabella stepped out of the shower, the news report sounding through the bedroom, though she could still hear it from the bathroom. Slipping into a blue silk bathrobe, she toweled her hair as she stepped across the tiled floor into the bed, where she had already set out her outfit for the day. Glancing at the TV screen she saw the faces of several of the escaped convicts, which caused her to turn up the volume as she slowly slunk into a sitting position on the side of the bed. Whatever was going on, it was big. Taking a deep breath, the remote fell to the side onto the bed as she leaned back slightly, running her fingers through her wet curls as she listened to the remainder of the news story.

After a few moments she glanced at the clock, seeing it was getting later in the evening. She was supposed to meet one of her coworkers for coffee in a little under an hour. Standing, she walked into the bathroom, looking at her hair dryer, which was sitting on the counter. Normally she would have taken the time to dry her hair, but she had already wasted enough time this morning. Taking her bottle of gel, she rubbed it between her hands before applying it to her hair. Washing her hands off, she brought them towards her head. Closing her eyes, she released a small amount of energy from her stores as heat, which dried her hair in a perfect messy curl in a fraction of the time it normally took. "I knew there was some good that would come from this," she muttered to herself before passing into the bedroom once more to get dressed.

20 minutes later, Izzy was stepping out of her apartment wearing a fitted lack pencil skirt and a white button up shirt with a black corset over it. The top few buttons of the shirt were undone, giving a little peek of her chest, though nothing important was showing. Her black peep-toe heels clicked on the floor as she locked her door, shouldering her purse before she turned, heading towards the elevator. Since the magazine had shut down until further notice considering the panic in the city, she found herself with more time on her hands. Isabelle lived on the top floor of the building in one of the bigger apartments, so it was a long way down. Walking through the lobby and out onto the streets she saw boxes sitting on the curb, though she thought nothing of it. She was about to hail a taxi before her cell phone starting ringing. Sighing, she flipped it open, holding it up. Before she even had a chance to say hello, the frantic voice of her mother blared over the phone.

"Mom, mom, I'm fine...No, for the time being I'm just staying at home and laying low...uh huh...No, I don't need to come home for a while...Well, I can't just come home right now you know that...uh uh...uh huh...Yea, mom I gotta go. I'll call you tonight." Before there was time for her mother to object, she flipped the phone shut, turning and walked down the coffee shop on the corner. Stepping inside, she smiled at some of the patrons she knew from her building, heading to the counter to place her order. She stepped past a woman sipping her coffee, smiling at the cashier. "Cafe Mocha please, hold the whipped cream."

Gavin wiped the beads of sweat from his forehead with a face towel. He had finished bringing all the boxes from the lobby downstairs and set them aside right in the middle of the apartment. Things would have gotten done faster if Gavin had some sort of cart with him; so he'd be able to move more boxes at a time, but alas, there was none such.

Taking a pitcher of cold water out of the fridge, he poured himself a glass. At this time, he was taking a break via watching a little television in the kitchen. To his surprise, most of the television channels had the same story running. Supposedly, some criminals escaped from their prisons and now was roaming the nation. However, it didn't only happen in Chicago. From his experience, these break-outs had been going on for some months. New York was hit with the first wave, but has quietly died down.

It was this, in actuality, Gavin decided to leave New York. He had only wanted a normal life for himself, even though he has his own 'gift'. A gift he had to use to help capture the criminals that escaped the New York facility those weeks ago. A gift that no one understood and made people fear him. The young detective sighed. Whatever he ran away from, followed him. Not in the literal sense, however, his gut feeling told him he might be working on some cases that would require the use of his gift.

Staring blankly at the television for what seemed to be forever, Gavin decided to turn it off. He didn't want to hear anymore people talking about it. He knew that by tomorrow, he'll be in the middle of it once again. Putting away the empty glass into the sink, the detective decided to turn in early. He was going to start unpacking the next day, and convinced himself to take a shower first before hitting the hay (which at this time was merely a soft pad and sleeping bag).

Amanda passed back and forth in her small individual cell. Lights were on her at all times. When she slept she the shone, during the day, they were bright. It was the only way to keep her in one place. She spent most of her time leaning against the corner of her small room, her long dark curls covering her face. She barely ate. She had been here for moths. Surely her friends and family were look for her. But they couldn’t do that from the grave. She killed her father. Her capture brought down her friends. Her family wanted nothing to do with her. She was stuck.

She stared at her shadow that the light cascaded to the ground. When ever she moved, it was the only darkness in the room. You can never truly eliminate a shadow if there is an object in the light. She often stared down the guards that walked before her flexi glass window of a cell wall. Her only gateway to life. She couldn’t see or hear them. She knew the walls by her were connected to two adjoined cells, but she was unsure who was in them.

She looked even more pale under the dark hair in the bright room. And the pale blue jump suit didn’t help. Above all else, what pissed her off the most, was the fact that she was not imprisoned on behalf the police, or authorities. But it was some company that had taken her hostage, prisoner. No one would even know she was gone, and no one would care to do anything about it. She killed so many. She was an evil boss that now owned her fathers firm. They all probably just assumed it was a sudden vacation. With her payroll manager, all the attorneys under her got paid. No one would care if she was gone or not. And besides, it had only been a few months since her “capture.”

They had someone with blindingly fast abilities. She didn’t stand a chance. All she remembers was a bright flash of light, and then she woke up here, in this wall. She didn’t know where here was outside of the cell. She knew the routine though. They kept her fed, they didn’t want her dead, that was for sure. They gave her decent meals. Canned vegetables, roll, simple cooked meals. Pizza… bottle beverages, and they would refuse to give her anymore food until she traded in all things in her cell. And all she ever had was an empty tray from the previous meal, and the empty bottle.

Bathroom? She didn’t want to think about it. There was no toilet in the room. When she had to go they slid her a chamber pot. They would then take it from her. Again, she had to trade her empty trade for it. She could have nothing in her cell. She knew why, they knew why. She was a threat. Under the tiiniest slip of control, she could escape and she would not be caught the same way again.

They had thought up everything. If the power were to go out, the lights of her room were battery powered. It had happen twice. She was sure there were many level’s of back up with these lights. She was there to stay for the long run.

That was until something happened. Something unexpected. The power in the building suddenly shut off. Amanda leaped to her feet and ran to the glass before her, and stared as she saw two men walk out on either side of her. They had been the captures in the cells. Beat on the window when one turned to her. He sent her a wicked smile and motioned for her to step back. She took three steps back, and watched what happened. A few seconds later, the lights that held her captive died.

She seemed to change in darkness to match the room around her. Her room was empty.

Isabella Vitale

As she started to head home, she heard some noises of movement coming from behind the cafe in the alley. On a normal night she would have passed it off as being nothing but the employees taking out the trash or something, but tonight she felt the need to check it out and make sure it was not some villain hiding in wait for some innocent Joe-schmo on his way home. Her heels clicked softly on the concrete sidewalk as she slowly approached the alleyway, only to find it was the girl from the coffee shop and a...discolored...clone...thing. That was odd. She thought about warning the girl of the dangers of going out at night by herself, especially when there were powered criminals running amok, but thought better of it. She wasn't the girl's mother or anything, she had no business telling the girl what to do. Her second instinct was to ask her about the clone, but again thought better of it. She could obviously put two and two together to see that the girl had an ability like herself, but felt it might be a little out of place to just go around asking her about it. Some people weren't ready for the public to know that they had powers yet - Izzy knew she wasn't.

Rather than confront the girl at all, Izzy walked casually by the opening of the alleyway, thinking it best to just get herself home to Juno, her kitten, and figure out what she could do to help the authorities. She figured they would allow her to help if they knew she had abilities as well, but she was unsure if she was ready for others to know yet. At the moment she was a lot like the girl she had just seen - only using her powers in private. These were the thoughts that entertained her mind as Isabella walked casually down the street as she headed back towards her apartment. Her strides were long but casual as she walked. It was strange to see the lack of people out at night with all the criminals around; the city used to always be so full of life at night. Continuing the few blocks it was to her apartment, she kept a constant awareness of what was going on around her. She probably was being paranoid, but she would much rather be cautious and have nothing happen than be caught by surprise. There was no question that these were dangerous times in Chicago.

It had been so dark in his cell, well, Vance hadn't really needed a cell at all. It was more like a cage, or a coffin. Pitch black and just large enough to fit his body. Nothing that he could use was around him.
It was his father's fault. Vance's father had tried to make him an agent of the company, but the Company decided he was too dangerous.
"Ha! Dangerous" spat Vance as he slithered through the darkening New York City Streets. V
Vance figured the other villains probably were going into hiding, but not Vance he was going to get what he came to America for in the first place, his birth right.
"Ah! It's been a year hasn't it" said Vance to the large building in front of him, it was a bank.
"Can I help you" asked a guard.
"You wouldn't happen to have a bathroom inside would you, I really gotta go!"
"Right this way" said the guard.
"You've been such a help", said Vance, "I'll be sure to remember that later".