Oh my gosh!

The doors to the giant mansion that was commonly known as the White House creaked open as a tall chubby man in his mid-fifties slowly walked out. His black robe dragging on the ground around him, dirt and dust mixing with the stains of walks long gone. The man had piercing brown eyes, if you looked to long into them you'd swear your soul was getting stabbed. He sported hair in the fashion of a general, short in the middle and bald on the sides, back, and front. White as the clouds were his goatee and beard, but they were also bespeckled with gray spots like smoke from a campfire just lit.

Bodyguards stood on either side of him, and the Judge always hated walking around with these people. They always looked so drab in there black suits and sunglasses, white rubber ear pieces going into their collars and watches that they talk into. Judge Alexi Halman stood at the podium over looking an immense crowd of people. His pale skin reflect the sun's rays off him and into the crowd. How anyone could have such skin and be healthy like a baby is beyond most people.

With a quick clearing of his throat and a hand gesture to silence the ever increasing crowd the Judge began his speech.

"Salutations, my fellow Americans.

I come to you today to inform you all of a conflict that has only surfaced recently. It is a conflict that was unforeseen, and previously thought to be found only in works of fiction and fantasy. I come to tell you all that the problem is very real. More real than any of us can possibly imagine.

Take a moment to think to yourselves about something. What if your neighbor could do things you never thought were possible. What if you knew he could break apart a steel girder with his bare hands? You would be alarmed, and afraid, I'm sure. All of us would be. That is only normal human nature. Now think about it even more. What if you knew that this same neighbor decided he might masquerade in a costume and take the law into his own hands. What would become of our police forces? They would be obsolete to this man's new brand of justice.

I do not believe such things as this should be so. Any man who believes himself to be worthy enough to take justice into his own hands is committing a very crime himself. This is our problem today. It is the superhuman condition, and it is plaguing our nation faster than most of us could register. They can do things that no normal human being should be able to do. These self-professed "Superhumans" can do such things as burn metal to liquid, play with our minds, and kill others with but a touch. They are a danger to our society, no, a danger to our world. They are a disease that must be wiped out!

In addition, We all know of "masks", the name for the various costumed men and women who believe they also have the right to take the law into their own hands. As with the superhuman menace, these same men and women are also a threat to this nation's well-being. Though they have no abilities beyond normal ken, they show themselves to work beyond the boundaries of the law, and they remain a danger to all of us.

The superhuman condition is a problem that we must all face together. We must face it with courage, and we must face it with dignity. Together, as a people, as a nation, we can stop this menace before it threatens to destroy the fabric of our society. As long as I am standing, I will keep this epidemic to our world contained!

Thank you for heeding my call, America. You are all in my prayers. May God bless us all."

Judge Halman bowed as the crowd applauded his speech, walking away he muttered something under his breath that none but him caught. Just as slowly as he had walked out of the White House, he entered it, and the doors took a seemingly long time to shut, and it took even longer for the crowd to disperse to their homes.

Once the Judge was inside he walked towards the conference room, leaders of every department were there. Be it from National security or the Janitor Union, they all were present, they all needed to know what the next step was.

____________________________________________________________________

OOC: Those that wish to reply to this should have just heard the speech and should be reacting accordingly, failure to do so will result in being told to edit it. Just so you all know.

What the fuck is this shit?! Isaac glared at the podium where the balding man had just stood. The man wasn't actually balding, but Isaac was so infuriated that any insult to the man was just a bonus for Isaac right now. He was a part of the supposed 'threat' that the judge had just declared. Hell, he wasn't a threat if anything he was just a normal law abiding citizen. Sure he had used his abilities a few times to get ahead in a race when it just himself and another runner or to stop the occasional dish from falling out his hands and making a mess, but in no way was he a crook or threat. He would never use his power to harm people or even think of using them to rob someplace. The risks were just too high.

He chewed on the bottom of his lip and played with the hem of his bright green sweater. The sleeves were pulled up above his elbows and underneath sat a tight fitting light blue t-shirt that read 'Bad things happen' in white with a painted on style from his hip to his shoulder. His jeans were ripped at the knees and just slightly under his rear. He tapped his foot and looked around at the crowd. There seemed to be mixed emotions all around. Anger, fear, carelessness, interest, and confusion flashed from face to face. Isaac could only imagine that his face was a slight red with a glare.

He had just been passing by the mansion on his way too a study group, but the instant address to the American public had caught his attention. Now, he wished that he had just ignored the elder and moved ahead to his group. He kicked at the ground lightly and decided that glaring wouldn't do any good right now. His mouth twitched slightly out of irritation, and he fought the urge to blow something up. He needed to run. All this stress would only cause wrinkles. He looked at the crowd once more and prayed that none would ever find out what he was capable of.

"Joy. He's just begging for trouble," Zael muttered as he drove out the drive-way. It was a good thing radio was still an effective means of communication, since he didn't have a television. Not exactly. Open action like what this man was supposing would only bring the truly dangerous ones out.

A few minutes later, he pulled in front of a one-story suburban home. His own home was somewhat isolated, by necessity. People, some of whom were from 'work,' would comission his services as an engineer. It paid well enough, mostly because he charged a lot. Fullerenes aren't cheap.

Shortly, a tall, hansomly-built red-haired man and a tall, somewhat androgynous woman came out of the house, stepping into the car.

"Thank's for picking us up, Zael," the man said as he sat down.

"Spending some quality time with Jack, Mannis? You don't seem the type," Zael joked.

"Shut up," the woman looked about sheepishly, "We were talking about work."

"Tom wants us to see what that guy that made that speech is up to," Jack began,

"I think they don't want interferance."

"I think the first thing to find out would be his name," Zael said as he started off, "And I suppose they want me to help."

"Always," said Mannis, "Without giving Tom away."

"And that's where things get hard," Zael concluded.

----------------------------------

((Jack and Mannis are NPC's in this. May be PC's if approved sometime later.))

Will had really fucked up this time. He fucked up big time.

With his brown hair waving as he ran, Will took no time to look back and see if anyone was following him. Sydney was a very big city, but it doesn't take much to get yourself out by taxi or some other equivalent. If Will could rent a jeep and high tail it to the outback, he would be home free from the troubles he would be leaving behind.

It's all my fucking fault. I shot the hostage. I fucking shot the hostage.

Will's mind was racing as he ran, mostly because of just how much he had messed up that heist. He had killed a hostage out of anger, and the police had done nothing less than opened fire on the rest of his gang. And now he was on the run, like a criminal who had just recently broken out of prison.

If he could just get to Perth on the Western coast, maybe he could convince his wealthy brother to lend him his boat. He needed to get out of this country, and he needed to get out soon.

Behind him, Will could hear the distant sound of motor vehicles. His brown eyes dilated, and he realized that he had not reached the safety of the wild outback just yet. There were still single houses that dotted the landscape, which meant that he could still be found. Will hadn't even gotten the chance to rent a jeep, and he could hear them gaining behind him. The man only ran faster, fear driving his heart to beat just as fast as he was running.

Something large was coming to his view, however. It was white building, a research lab, to be exact. Will didn't think much about what he was doing, and he ran towards it, his mind continuing to race.

He ran inside the lab, bursting through one of the back doors without much thought. Technicians and workers looked at him like he was crazy as he sped past them, but he ignored the various yelling and shouting directed at him. He ran up a flight of stairs, and held onto to a railing as he quickly moved across a metal bridge in the facility. It was right over a large vat of what looked like white dust, with an orange, viscious fluid in the vat as well. Will intially ignored everything going on around him, until a headache came on. It pierced his thoughts like a hot spike, causing him to lose his focus and stumble. And to Will's utter dismay, he went right over the railing.

Will didn't really scream when he hit that vat of white and orange material. There was a thwuck-like sound when he fell into the vat, and almost immeaditly was he buried chest-down in white and orange mixture. Will looked around him, realizing in a daze that he was slowly being sucked into this chalk white powder and red orange liquid. It was sucking him in like tar. He struggled against it, but his efforts were merely in vain.

It was then that he felt something entering his pores. It was as if his skin was opening up to the orange liquid, and he could feel it seeping inside of his body. Once again, Will struggled, but it remained to be a useless act.

When the white powder began to also enter his pores, following the orange liquid, it was then that Will felt the pain. The intense, burning pain that caused him to scream in agony in torment.

"ARRRRRRRGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!"
___________________________________________________________________

Out of character: I'd just like to note that nature of the topic moving. As you know, our role play is a storyline, and storylines do tend to take place in multiple places at once. Right now, the character of Will Alistarr(not yet the villain Anthrax), is on the run in Sydney, Australia. Wherever in the world the next post occurs, then the topic will be moved to the appropiate forum, and so on and so forth. I just wanted to point out to all of you. When the time comes, more specific forums for cities and such will be made in the future.

Alexander Creed looked down at the bustling traffic below the ten story building he was outside of. Being a window washer wasn't that fun, specially here in Calgary. Never there was a fun moment, never did the skit break or almost break. Finishing up the last window he started to go down, traffic getting closer, ant like people turning to normal size. Outside the fifth story windows, his wish for something excited came true, just not how we wanted it to. The skit stalled, and it took to men to fix the problem. Alexander was the only one on the skit this day, a strong wind blew the piece of wood that we call a skit against the glass window. Not having anything to do he pulled out a deck of cards.

A gust of wind pushed the skit through the window and sent Axl flying into the biochemical engineering section of the fifth floor. Rolling into a a counter a small "Oooof" escaped the man's small mouth. Alexander stood up and looked around, the clothing he was wearing was ripped and tattered from the glass. Blood slowly seeped out of his wounds as the 5'8 man shifted his 125 pounds onto his left foot. Dark pitch black sunglasses rest on his spiked black hair, red vein like designs could been seen around his hair.

His crimson eyes scanned the room and fell upon an article of clothing. A black suit with matching pants, matching shoes, and matching gloves. A white under shirt was folded on top of the suit and a ten inch high black top hat lay on the under shirt. Taking his clothes off he put the black pants, shoes, and gloves on. Put the hat and the over shirt on next then the suit jacket. A vial of liquid that looked almost like lemon juice sat across from where the suit was,

All the aches and pains he felt made him thirsty, thirsty enough to drink an unknown liquid and add a unknown variable into his seemingly mundane life. He grabbed it and poured all but the smallest drop into his mouth. His skin was semi-tanned but yet paler then most, a black soul patch adorned his chin. The liquid slid down his throat like a slug down a sidewalk, as soon as it was gone he felt an urge, the urge to grab his cards and chuck an ace of spades at the ever approaching guard.

A short fat chubby man dressed in a blue guard out fit wandered over to the skit and shook his head. "Any one here?" his groggy frog like voice echoed into the room where Alexander stood. Slowly he walked out with a sinister look upon his face. "Greetings oh chubby frog, it is time for you to meet my friends" Alexander's voice was childish yet serious at the same time, almost unnerving but creepy. Before the guard to ask what Alexander was doing here or what he meant a card penetrated the guard's skull, with a choking sound of pain he fell out of the window and into the traffic below.

A bus driver below didn't see the man fall, didn't know the man was there, until he hit something. Gasps from the crowd of people, looks of horror and disgust as the squished body lay under the transit bus. Alexander looked down from the window and chuckled, a strange tingling feeling overcame him. A manic laughter escaped his smirked lips, Alexander was no more. No, now is the time for Axl. Axl, the king of cards!

While things never ceased to happen in the rest of the world, Janice remained uncaring to most of them. She wasn't interested in the lives of other people. She didn't want to hear their complaining. She didn't want to hear what was so bad about their life.

Janice was sitting in a booth seat at Johnny's Pizzeria, smack in the middle of Brooklyn, NY. Brooklyn was her natural habitat, in a way. It's the place she grew up after leaving Paraguay. It was the place her father worked his ass off, so he could feed his five kids.

"Who the hell are they trying to blame this time?" Janice said as she sloppily took a bite of a slice of pepperoni pizza. For a girl of her looks, she certainly had terrible table manners. Being nineteen years old, and a cop for that matter, she had no real choice but to hang at the local pizzeria than hang at a bar. She had been happily munching on her pizza as Judge Alexi Halman came on, and he delievered his speech to the entire nation, or at least anyone who was listening. Janice never liked the guy. She personally thought he was a self-righteous bigot.

"They're always trying to blame somebody. Those high-ups have nothing better else to do then pick on us little people." Ronaldo, the local owner of the pizzeria commented, as he was busy slicing up another pie at the same time.

"This superhuman stuff is garbage. They're trying to say how much they want all the immigrants out. Fucking pricks." Janice said, crushing a can of Pepsi in her fist. To her, it seemed like this guy was just making up all of this "superhuman condition" stuff to try and hide an agenda that probably involved making everyone else seem lower class or something.

"It's not a big deal. They won't get far with this."

"I hope you're right, Ronnie. I got to get back on patrol. There's always droves of drug dealers around this time. The last thing we need is more of them on the streets." Janice said, waving to her friend and heading towards the door.

Superhumans? Yeah right! If that Halman guy really believes all that crap, then he's just insane, Janice thought to herself, before managing to spot a group of shady men who looked like they were obviously handing each other some not so legal substances. Janice's eyes narrowed, and a smile came up on her face.

"Gotcha." she said, before going into a sprint, her gun in her hand, and she couldn't help but love the feeling of watching the drug dealers scatter like roaches. One thing was certainly for sure with her. She definitely loved her job.

//OOC: Just so there's no confusion my first took place outside of a electronics shop, where people watched the address.//

Isaac scratched the area just above his wrist nervously. Initially, he had enraged by the judge. He paused slightly in his thoughts. The name of said judge had slipped his mind, but now, a slight tinge of fear had crept it's way deep into his subconscious. The words that rang deep within him the most were the ones that promised the judge would rid the world of people like Isaac. He shivered slightly. It wasn't a big secret to himself that he wasn't normal, but he wouldn't exactly call himself 'superhuman'. He had the same problems as everyone else: wondering how much he'll get paid, if the landlord would find out about the fox he had been keeping in his apartment, if he'll find someone to be in a relationship with, and even what sort of meal he should eat for supper.

He sighed and continued to walk down a various street in old town Flagstaff. The street was lined with small shops mostly geared towards tourists. The buildings rarely reached above four stories tall, and most of the upper levels were apartments. It was in one of these buildings that this study group was going to be held. It wasn't like he needed to be in this group, but he found that being surrounded by his friends that actually cared if they failed or not was a great influence for his work ethics.

He shoved his hands inside the pocket of his jeans. This only served to show his rather thin form as he picked up his pace slightly. He loved being in the mountainous city, but all the tourists got to him sometime. They stared at him. He knew the reason why too: It wasn't because he had this power. No. It was because he is a Native American, and for some reason, the old, wrinkly, Hawaiian shirt wearing rich folks from the NE or wherever had this preconceived image of Indian braves in loin clothes and long black hair.

He grumbled slightly and let out a slight yip as he came upon the store that lead to Shannon's loft. He opened the door and looked around slightly. The shop was small, sporting various wood sculptures that were claimed to be hand carved. He frowned slightly at his last thought. He happened to talk to the proprietor once, and he did actually find out that the old man did, in fact, make the sculptures. He walked up to the counter and gave his best smile. "Hey, Greg. I'm here to see Shannon." Greg nodded and pointed to the stair case that was partially hidden by a glass bookcase that had sculptures of bears in various poses.

He made his way up the creaky staircase and up to the second level. He knocked lightly on the light blue door. He nodded his head along to a mindless tune as he waited. The door opened after about twenty second, and a thin girl with blond hair that came down to her shoulders. She was rather tall for a girl. She could almost look Isaac directly in the eye, making her about five feet eight inches. He gave her a hug, poking the freckles that dusted her shoulders. "Isaac! You're late!" He winced as she hit him in the shoulder. "Yeah, sorry. I got distracted." She crossed her arms and shifted her weight to one side of her hips. "What. A cute guy the other direction?" Isaac pushed he gently, "Shut up! let's just get this over with.

He went to the couch where two girls and three other guys were waiting. He plopped down and listened to the out take of the others on the project for Molecular Theory 101.

The Quiet is the body and with one extra soul, there is also The Silent. They are two as one.

The Quiet wasn't sure where he was lately. He had been dragging a black metal suitcase with a few necessities around for a long time since he left his parent's estate. He had gotten on a ship, a random ship, that looked like it was going far away. He had done this a couple times. He decided to do this any time the local police seemed too aware of his movements. Of course he only had his scuffles with them personally to realize when they were on to him.

Where ever he ended up, the only thing that mattered was that he could find the strength he needed, the strength The Silent urged that he needed.

He was aware of where he was enough to notice he was in a large intricate alley way. Many bums had gathered here to try and eek out some kind of happily ever after. These pathetic wash outs weren't a worthy test of strength for The Silent. "Wash ouu~~~" Quiet began to say but started mumbling again.

A flicker of light caught his eye. It was a small out of date television the bums must have salvaged out of the trash and were gathered around.

On it was some important man with an important sounding voice.

The Quiet and The Silent listened to the man's long winded speech. Before the end, The Quiet suddenly began to spasm. He covered his ears with his hands as if he were trying to block out some loud noise.

"Please... s-top..." Quiet pleaded quietly. He covered his ears as tightly as possible, his arms visibly straining. Then suddenly, as if he had succeeded in crushing his own head, he became completely silent and motionless.

He stood up into a calm posture as if nothing happened and began slowly walking forward.

"Just another king... telling us to rely on someone else to fight our battles..." Quiet mumbled to himself.

When he reached the small tv with shoty reception the bums watching it looked up to him confused. He lifted up his boot and stomped as hard as he could into the screen, breaking it and knocking it to the ground.

"Hey!" the a bum called out, and the rest did something similarly annoying as the electricity raced up Quiet's leg and up through his body causing him to spasm uncontrollably and painfully. He couldn't move, but he was almost used to not being able to control his body anymore. The bums stood up and began to scream. Silent didn't feel they were worthy of a challenge, but he had to defend Quiet. He was just a boy after all.

Silent pulled out and lifted up a rather large knife, and the bums stopped complaining real quickly.

The sound of relentless thumps echoed through the strangely empty back streets of Los Angeles. The thief was running for his life, dodging whatever obstacles stood in his way. Could you see his face, you could see the tears streaming down his hard features, and his expression that could only mean one thing: Terror.

Behind him, a dark figure bounded towards him, catching up quickly. The man was trying to pump his legs faster, to get away from what he was sure would be his end, but to no avail. He started to sob, his legs starting to give way. The man collapsed, his head scraping against the rough concrete as he fell. His sobbing got louder as he was roughly rolled over to face his pursuer.

Lavender Scott smiled down at him.

"Hey, baby."

The thief tried to crawl away, but was pinned down by Lavender's boot. He looked up at her, and started to sob again.

"P-please, don't kill me. I'm sorry! Please!"

Lavender nodded, and pulled out two knives from her belt holster.

"No, honey. I'm not going to kill you. The fellas down in county will take care of that. They hate rapists. You're a rapist too, aren't you?"

He shook his head.

"Please, let me go. Please!"

She kneeled down, and grabbed his arm. Pinning it to the ground, brought down the knife on his palm, going through his hand into the ground. He screamed in agony, and tried to use his other hand to pull it out. She pinned it down as well, and pierced it.

Ignoring his screams, she walked patiently over to a payphone. Inserting a quarter, she punched in a number and brought the phone up to her ear. A gruff voice answered the phone.

"Yes?"

She sighed.

"I've got your thief, Fawkes. Trace this call to the payphone I'm at, he'll be right next to it. I'd hurry, he might bleed to death."

Fawkes chuckled.

"I'm the police chief, Lavender. You don't think we'll find you?"

She shrugged.

"You haven't found me yet, have you?"

"We will. We've got the location of the payphone, it's right next to a TV store. Look inside."

Lavender stood still for a minute. Curious, she hung up, and walked over to the store. In the display window, it was showing an address by yet another yes-man. Though she couldn't hear the sound, the text below it told the whole story.

"White House Alerts Public To Superhuman Threat"

She groaned. This was bound to happen sometime, but she never expected it to happen now. She ran off, back to her home in the slums.

A storm was coming, and she didn't need to be in the tide.

"Ah Washington," Jack leaned into the air vent's blast.

"What do you plan to do first?" Zael asked.

"You're all business, aren't you?" Jack sighed, "There should be a Tom agent somewhere around the capital."

"We're IN the capital. It's not a small place," Zael's voice was strained, "And I need a place to park."

"Park in front of a restaurant or something," Mannis spoke up, "We need information first."

"Whoa!" Jack turned to the back seat, "You were so quiet, I almost forgot you were there?"

"Why speak when you have nothing to say?" Mannis said smugly.

"Amen," Zael said as he pulled up to a corner bistro. As they got out of the car, he began, "Considering it's Tom we're talking about, the agent will probably find..." He stopped, as a tall, blond-haired man in a white business suit was standing right in front of them.
"Sonnuva... Stop doing that, Gary," Zael said as Gary pointed an expensive-looking cane at him.

"You're late," was all he said before lowering the cane, "but, I suppose we have time. Come, everyone. No sense in dawdling anymore."

After a brief pause, Mannis spoke, "Still better than Ali'."

"So," Jack began as they walked along, surprisingly slowly, "Any news on that speach from earlier?" All of a sudden Jack was 'all business.'

"What did you think YOU'RE job was? I'm just here to get you started," he suddenly turned and entered an apartment complex, while they followed in surprise, "The man's name, in case you forgot," he looked over his shoulder at Jack, "Is Alexi Halman. Just stay around the capital until he moves. If he does something drastic, squeeze him a little."

"And that shouldn't have any difficulty," Zael muttered, "What a waste. I hope you have a place for us to stay."

"Don't worry about that. You can find things like that anywhere," Gary sat down, leaning in an uncouth manner, despite odd looks from people in the lobby.

"This IS a waste," Mannis muttered before walking off.

Meanwhile, in Australia....

A lone figure had been walking across the orange landscape of the Australian outback from some time now. His skin was a deathly white color, and it had a texture more suitable for chalk than human flesh. He walked with a slow gait, as if struggling to bring himself along. His eyes were a deep green color, and they had a posionous, almost unnatural hue to them. He shuffled along like some sort of zombie, white dust puffing around him.

It had been days since Will Alistarr had undergone his horrific transformation. He had left many causualties in his wake since then. His new form wanted out of this accursed land. And now, his ticket off this continent was not so far away.

The large house ahead belonged to his brother, Dale. To tell the truth, Will and Dale had not spoken for quite awhile. While Will got himself into crime and deliquency, Dale actually got somewhere in law school. He became a private lawyer, and made enough money to get himself this nice seaside house, along with a large private boat as well. Will continued to walk along, his mind focusing on how he might convince his brother to lend him his boat...

Meanwhile, Dale was lounging on his coach, walking soccer on his wide-screen television as he had the air conditioning cranked up to full blast at the same time. It was still quite musty outside, and it's not like Dale cared too much about the air conditioning bill to worry about overusing it. It didn't have much of an effect on his expenses, anyway.

It's always nice to live out here. It's quiet, and far from the noise of Sydney...., Dale thought, relaxing his head back as he continued to watch soccer. The door had been open this entire time, but it was always left open. Dale didn't expect anyone coming to rob him anytime soon.

"Dale..." a gravely voice said from behind him, and Dale Alistarr turned to see quite the unexpected sight. It was his brother, Will, but it was not the Will he'd last seen some years ago. Will's body looked pale white, like it had been carved out of a block of dusty chalk. His eyes were a toxic green color, and Will's clothes hung loosely on his almost skeletal frame. Dale stood up quickly, dropping his remote and backing away slightly.

"Will? That can't be you....what the hell happened to you? And why the fuck are you here?" Dale said in a mixture of anger and fear, mostly fear. His brother and him were never on the best of terms, especially after Dale had experienced Will's growing jealously of his success first hand.

"It's complicated.....I want out of here, Dale....please....let me borrow the boat..."

Dale raised an eyebrow, and he spoke as if his brother was trying to pull some kind of joke on him. That's it. This was all some big joke on him. Nevertheless, Dale wasn't finding it funny.

"You're kidding. I'm not just going to give you the boat I paid my fucking money for. Get lost, Will! You had your chance, and you screwed it up!"

Without warning, Will Alistarr could feel frustration coming on. He wanted to just get out this country, and he had hoped his brother would just oblige. It would have made everything so much easier. It would have made everything so much quicker. Before Dale could do anything, Will's hand came out in front of him.

"Give it to me..." Will said in a whispy voice, and before he knew it, there was a cloud of white spores coming off of his arm. They surged forward, coompletely enveloping themselves around Dale's head. Will's brother began to cough in pain, and it was obvious that he was beginning to slowly choke. Dale was on his knees, struggling to get a breath of air, but he wheezed as his lungs refused to comply. Before long, Dale fell face-down into his carpeted floor, and dark red blood began to pool from his mouth and nose. It stained the tan carpet, but Will did not take notice to this.

He slowly walked past his dead brother, taking the keys to his boat from beside an old picture frame. It showed a younger Dale and Will, and both boys were playing soccer with one another in the picture.

Will turned from it, shame in his eyes. With the keys gripped in his chalky hand, Will walked over the corpse of his brother. He would have to forget about things like this.

I'm not Will anymore. Will's gone, he thought to himself as he exited the house and caught sight of his brother's boat, which was waiting in an estuary that would eventually lead to sea.

Today, I become Anthrax.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(For the continuation RP on this specific part of the story, click here.)

"You got to be kidding me..." muttered Sheffer, watching the live news coverage of the judge's speech. He had seen and heard too much of this anti-superhuman talk, and thought it was just a waste of time of anyone involved. Even if you did convince people that his kind were truly bad, how the hell would you stop them? There were hundreds of superhumans on this planet, powers ranging over elements to the mind. Truly you wouldn't want to try to to fight them...

Giving out an exasperated sigh, Sheffer shut off his television, leaning forward on the couch he was currently sitting in. Grabbing a nearby pair of running shoes, he slipped into them, tying the laces tight. Standing up, he walked across the fairly small living room, picking up a leather vest that had been hanging from a nearby recliner. Proceeding in putting on the piece of clothing over his dark green t-shirt, Sheffer exited through a side door, leading him into the kitchen.

Not needing anything from this room, he just continued on his way, walking out the door into the building's hallway. His apartment was located on the thirteenth floor, a long ways up from ground level. Making sure to lock the door behind him, he continued on his way, descending the stairs. He decided he'd visit a nearby gym out of sheer boredom, even though he really didn't need that much exercise.

Finally reaching the bottom floor, he stepped out the entryway onto a busy Manhatten sidewalk with people passing by, heading to work. Cars and taxis alike honked on the roadway as the slow rush hour crawled forward, making Sheffer glad he always went by foot to wherever he needed to be.

Walking down the concrete sidewalk, avoiding people coming from the other direction, Sheffer happened to notice a woman entering her car that was parked on the side of the street. Suddenly out of nowhere, a gangster look-a-like teen jumped out of the mass of pedestrians, holding a small pocket knife to the woman.

"Give me the car bitch!" he yelled, moving the weapon threateningly. The woman shrieked out in shock, throwing the keys to the teenager and running off in fright. The "gangster" swiped them out of the air, unlocking the door, and a few seconds later, drove off.

Sheffer groaned, watching the fleeing thief. This barely happened around this part of Manhatten, but the boy was obviously trying to prove himself to one of the uptown gangs, and this seemed to have been the test.

"Guess here's my workout..." he muttered, running off into the middle of the street.

Making sure to be in the center of the roadway, many cars honking in protest, Sheffer looked up at the stolen vehicle. For some strange twist of fate, the teen had managed to find open road for a whole block, speeding ahead.

Giving out a yell of disapproval, Sheffer began to sprint faster then any other human being, slowly catching up with the car. His feet flying beneath him, arms pumping madly, he eventually came even with the car, noticing the teen had already rolled down the driver's window and was blasting music out of the speakers.

"Hey buddy!" yelled Sheffer over the music, keeping his pace. The thief glanced over casually, then returned his eyes back to the road. He immediatelly took a double-take, his eyes going wide when he saw Sheffer running beside the car.

"Get away you freak!" he screamed, reaching into his jacket and pulling out a hand gun, pointing the barrel at Sheffer's face.

"You got to be shitting me..." he muttered as the teen pulled the trigger.

Fortunately, Sheffer was not hit by the bullet. In fact, the projectile was slowly inching forward right in front of his face, the same effect happening with the car and everything around him.

Looking at the bullet, he rolled his eyes and flicked it away lazily with a finger. Sheffer had actually halted his running, now standing by the car's side, watching the car roll forward sluggishly. To the thief, he would have completely disappeared, or at least be a large blur.

Yawning slightly, Sheffer reached his arm through the open window, unlocking the door. Grasping the handle, he pulled it open, and preceding in moving the thief onto the pavement below. Stepping inside of the car itself and shutting the door behind him, he stomped his foot onto the break as time began to return to its normal pace.

The car immediatelly came to a halt after this, and Sheffer preceded into pulling it over to the side of the road. Opening the door once more, he took a glance back, noticing the shocked teen running down the street in fear and confusion. Giving a slight chuckle, Sheffer once more slowed time, easily walking up to the boy's front. Making sure he was in the right position, he stuck out one foot in the teen's path, another small laugh escaping his throat.

Bringing time back to normal, Sheffer readied himself, watching the teen trip head over heels across his leg, faceplanting into the concrete below.

"All right 'homey,'" said Sheffer mockingly, grabbing the thief by the collar and lifting him up to his feet. "You're free ride is over."

After about a day of hiding in the building Axl got board, there was no people left in it for he killed or wounded most of them. He stepped casually into the elevator and turned to face the sliding doors as they closed slowly. The music, oh the lame music these elevators played. Did it ever torment him, the sound irritated every molecule of his structure, every atom of his being. Finally he reached the first floor as he shook off the cringe of agony that was displayed on his face.

Walking out of the elevator he smirked, tipped his top hat at a cute woman and walked away. He bent his hand back wards and flung it at the girl's head "Jackpot, Queen of clubs gets the pot" he mumbled as the woman fell to the ground lifeless. Her red life essence oozing out of her head, the red substance stuck to her hair as it stained the marble floor below. As he pushed the door open his card returned to the top of his deck unbloodied and sharp as ever.

"I think Canada has had enough of me, one business building totally dead should send the message home" Axl mumbled under his breath as he walked towards the airport. On his way there he unfortunately heard the Judge's speech. "The superhuman condition is a problem that we must all face together. We must face it with courage, and we must face it with dignity. Together, as a people, as a nation, we can stop this menace before it threatens to destroy the fabric of our society. As long as I am standing, I will keep this epidemic to our world contained!"

The man words and voice annoyed Axl, but so did the damn ice cream truck that drove by. Smirking he sent a card towards the Ice cream truck, the driver's throat was cut although not even he knew it. Once the speech was done Axl chuckled "Well aren't you a rosy little marble?" Axl flicked his wrist and watched as the card cut through the glass, then through the T.V, and finally impaled it's self into the back of the man checking out the wiring at the back.

Axl wandered away towards the airport, not know where we was going or why. Does he really need a reason for doing anything? A scream was heard from a dark alley, the sun was setting quickly now. Axl watched as a man attacked another man, a women coward in fright as the one man killed the other man. A few blocks away the ice cream man had stopped for a group of kids, when the man looked up at his back view mirror he ripped open his neck.

The kids ran to the window, not to find the friendly ice cream man no, to find the bleeding corpse of the friendly ice cream man. They all screamed and ran home, cops of course investigated and found nothing. Axl smiled as he walked into the alley, the winning man was toying with the women, making her squeal in fright before he did anything else. A sigh escaped the lips of Axl as he tapped the man on the shoulder. "Bugger you off will ya? Con't you see me and da lady 're trying to 'ave a 'ittle fun?" the man was clearly Irish, clearly a drunkard, and clearly stupid.

Pushing Axl away he went back to bugging the women, Axl coughed and tapped him on the shoulder again. This time the man pulled out a knife and proceeded to stab Axl, or would have had he still had his arm attached. Blood squirted out of the veins in his arms as he looked at Axl in horror. "I saw you kill that man, I saw you, now lets see how this feels" A blood curling scream echoed through out the streets of down town Calgary. When the cops arrived moments later the man was dead, his limbs cut off and skinned. His eyes squished under his heart, which had the word Joker carved into it. The women was bent over her boyfriend crying, crying for the dead, crying for her savior, crying for life.

Axl finally made it to the airport after many a wrong turn. People walked busily here and there, there and here. Causally and slowly he walked up to a women selling tickets. "Where is the next flight going and how much does it cost?" His child like voice made the cute girl behind the counter giggle, also Axl not looking that bad didn't help the giggling fit she had contracted. "Manhattan sweety, it'll cost ya $100 but if you give me a kiss I'll knock it down to $60" He knew the price was $60 dollars regardless but he figured kissing her couldn't hurt...him much. He shrugged and leaned forward, she giggled and leaned forward.

Their lips meeting, her coworkers looked shocked, almost dumbfounded. When she pulled away they had been kissing for almost ten minutes straight. She smiled and looked at him "That'll be fifty dollars hun, and I think you stole my gum" Axl smirked and chew on her gum, placing a fifty on the counter and handing her a hundred he smiled. "I'll keep your gum and you can buy yourself something pretty" his voice fit him this time, although still a bit childish. She blushed and handed him the plane ticket, pointing to the exit she smirked and mouth call me.

Axl looked at the ticket and noticed a piece of paper with the girl's number on it, cute girl his age, oh well he's going to Manhattan and he won't be back. The announcement came on that signaled for Axl to board the plane. Which of course he did, he had a window seat up near the entrance. Sitting down Axl looked at the flight attendants and smirked, why is every cute girl in Calgary now that he is leaving?

To be a cop in the Bronx, you certainly had to know a little more beyond knowing how to just be cop. Janice was no exception to this rule. She could handle herself in the streets, and she could handle herself well.

"I hope you know how much I hate slime like you. I hope you know that I really don't like you and your drug dealing friend one bit." she said to the vagrant that she had pinned down in an alley. Her gun was pointed to the back of his head, and she had silver handcuffs in her other hand. The drug dealer in her grip was sweating in fear, mostly from the cold metal feeling of a a gun barrel touching his skin.

Janice didn't take much time in cuffing him, and she took even less time in tossing him into the back of her car. She threw the cuffed vagrant into the backseat without a hint of grace or finesse. Criminals did not deserve either, from Janice's perspective. Before long, she was in the driver seat, gripping the wheel as the nearby police radio began to go on with voices.

".....We have gang activity on 34rth street, Manhattan...."

Janice smiled to herself, stepping on the gas as her siren flared. She figured she could bag a few more lowlives, while the night was still young.

For this beat cop, navigating the streets of New York was a piece of cake with a squad car. With her sirens blaring, it was easy to see how many of the city's large human roaches would go scattering at the mere sight of her. After a few minutes, she could see the obvious problem up on the next block.

A tall boy with a noticable open leather vest was standing in the middle of the sidewalk, and he had in his grip what looked like just another teen carjacker. He was holding up the thug by the collar, looking up at him with obvious anger and dissension in his eyes. Janice turned off the sirens of the squad car as she approached, her hand going to the gun on her hip.

"Let's do this quick, okay? I'd like to just bring you in and make everything easier for me. Wasted bullets are no fun." she stated nonchalantly, closing the car door behind her as she stepped out, pistol in hand. It wasn't long before a click could be heard, and Janice had her gun pointed right to the back of Sheffer's head.

"Alright, kid. Just put your friend down, and maybe I'll consider just forgetting about all of this and letting you go. Maybe. Maybe not."

Meanwhile, deep in the Sichuan Province of China....

Deep in what seemed like mostly rice fields and untamed land, there lay an extremely large temple. Its construction was unique, as it was completely symmetrical in its architecture. The building was like that of a Buddhist monastery in a way, but it was painted one half completely black, and one half completely white. In these spanning rice fields, it was certainly a sight to see.

A helicopter was coming down by this temple, despite the fact that there was no sort of actual landing zone for it to properly touch down. A chubby man in a robe exited the pitch black helicopter, fixing his collar as he approached a large group of Chinese men who intended to meet him. The Judge had his bodyguards, as well as his personal translator with him. His new "friends" spoke English, however. Or so he was told.

"Welcome." one of the Chinese monks said, bowing to the prescence of the Judge. He had to admit, he liked this kind of respect. To him, he felt that they should all be bowing to him by now.

Especially since they're all going to Hell for this devlish religion of theirs. I don't even know why we're associating with such cultists..., Judge Alexi Halman thought in his mind, before following the monks inside of their temple.

It was vast inside, and the walls seemed to be constantly adorned with the symbol of the yin yang. Alexi Halman looked at these symbols in minor disgust as he followed his hosts, and he personally would have like to see crosses in their place. Nevertheless, these monks were going to serve a purpose to him. There was much for him to do after giving such a speech to the entire nation. He would certainly have to keep his bargain to this country, like he promised...

"Our master will be with you in a moment. Please, make yourself comfortable. The Split Lotus is pleased that you would come to us for assistance." one of the monks said to Alexi and his men, before disappearing from view. The Judge grimaced, already becoming impatient. He sat down on one of the many cushions situated around the temple floor, his rope piling up around him.

"I see you Westerners do not take your time in anything. Patience is a virtue. One that is quite important." a wizened, heavily-accented voice said from seemingly nowhere. Alexi's head turned back and forth, and sooner than later, an aged, bearded man came into view. He looked frail at first, though he seemed to walk with a sense of honor and strength. His robe bore a yin yang symbol in the center, along with it being symmetrically dyed black and white.

"Enough of your Chinese riddles or whatever you call it. Let's just get down to business." Alexi said impatiently, causing the Chinese elder to merely nod and smile as he took a seat...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In another part of the temple, the same Chinese elder was walking towards what looked like a young man meditating in the middle of a spacious room. He was dressed in a ninja robe, or shinobi shozoku, and it was a lot like the robes of the members of this monastery. It was perfectly symmetrically dyed black and white.

"Keniichi." the elder said in a thick, accented Mandarin Chinese, causing the meditating boy to open his eyes, but he did not move a muscle in his current state.

"You are in need of me, Master?" the young man said, his voice coming out strong.

"Yes. Your time to prove yourself has come. You are needed to restore balance in a Western land."

"And restore it I shall. I will not fail you." the man responded, this time standing up. His stature was firm, and he did not show any fear in what could be seen of his eyes.

"I know you will not. I believe you've earned the title that you've been seeking. The sacred title, Balance. You will restore equilibrium." the elder stated, and his younger apprentice merely bowed in respect.

"I will. Thank you, Master. Thank you."