Momentarily stunned that the media thinks that he is a black amputee Steven leans back in his chair and stares at the ceiling for a few seconds before being struck with an idea.
Heading out steven goes to a shopping center and buys some blackish brown stockings to make a mask from then wanders around the other stores looking for something he could use to construct an "artificial hand" on the outside of one of his gloves.
Stockings bought, curious glances garnered. Look of frustration at doing embarrassing errand successful at warding off any further suspicion, however. Transformation into frightening brown person that haunts the night may commence.
As for the glove, you try breaking one of your uglier vases and gluing the bits of porcelain to your glove - the result, while it certainly looks unusual, probably isn't going to be confused with an artificial hand by any means. Looks more like an armored glove.
"I'm not satanic. I'm the angel of death, so call me Reaper"
(I don't want the others knowing my name OOC before I do something)
"That works, yeah," Kibbel says, then sits up, leaning forward and staring at you as he proceeds into what sounds like a briefing without so much as a segue. "There's a couple things you need to do. First off, there's some guy blowing shit up in the night - confirmed as a parahuman not too long ago. Figure out who it is and gauge their general disposition and motives. Secondly, this Friday there's going to be funny business happening at Freiberg Stadium, and I want you there to see what Project Ed's up to, maybe prevent things from escalating if shit goes down. Thirdly, and this you should attend to as soon as possible, get some kind of disguise. I can set you up with body armor and weaponry, but I'll leave the cosmetic details up to you. Any questions?"
"Can I go?" Officer Church asks.
"You should, yeah."
Officer Church quietly gets up and leaves the area.
"Oh, and on your downtime, I'm gonna let you hang out in my old love nest," Kibbel remembers as soon as she's gone. "It's a ways from here, I'll show you later. Off any books people are likely to ever check, too."
Jake nodded. Friday at Freiberg? I'll be there. Should be entertaining. Thanks." Jake responds, giving the group a smile before walking away. He wondered if his mask would be here in time, heading for the hotel. His father shouldn't be there for a while, and having one of Ilo's devices gave him another idea on testing his power.
Once he got to the hotel and made sure he was alone in the room he would lock the door and make sure the curtains were drawn. Holding the sphere up to a light, he would activate his power and look at it once it started vibrating. He really hoped that the invincibility he got also kept him from being affected by the powers of others. It would suck to try and take out Dissent only to have One-Eighty flip his head into a wall. After the sphere was done working, or when he got that bad feeling again, he would look away and deactivate his power while moving the sphere away from the light source.
You leave the three Eddites behind, getting back to your room and trying out what may or may not be an extremely poor idea. You take out the sphere in your room, your first experience with Ed-style drugs possibly looming. As you lift up the sphere to the nightlight in your room and look away in anticipation of some of that blue magic, you immediately activate your power. Wouldn't do to get stoned or whatever else this thing does to you at this point in time. It starts to vibrate, the amplitude rising from beyond the imperceptible within a minute or so, and you immediately look at it as soon as it feels ready.
You see the baby blue sphere for but a single moment as it almost immediately fades away, or perhaps dissolves, as the entire room starts to fill with blue warmth. You look at you empty hand, filled with a mild contentment. A smile comes to your face as your body becomes light and free, and you involuntarily let go as you are filled with immense happiness. The air feels sweet and your stomach tingles with feelings of love, curiously undirected love that seems to default to yourself as its object. You lie back involuntarily, breathing deep and caressing your own face with your hands while you stare at the ceiling. You wish you could kiss yourself to make this a perfect moment, but alas, you cannot. You can merely sit there, staring at your hand, enjoying the frozen, happy blue stillness of the room, a euphoric haze hanging over your thoughts.
"A little. I might be able to get by on it."
"Great, get in," she tells you, and you decide not to opt out of the offer, especially since she looks pretty tired and it's after dark. The ride is quiet, the areas unfamiliar, the criminal activity all but invisible, though you're fairly certain it should be there someplace.
Twenty solid minutes of less than stellar conversation later, as Mary seems to be quite the focused driver, she drops you off at a place called the Greenland Motel, which looks appropriately cold and unforgiving, you're less than pleased to note.
"Here we are, out you go," she says as she ushers you out without much input on your part. "Have a nice night," is the only thing she tells you before driving off. Must have some urgent business to attend to or something.
Selina goes back to the kitchen to drink some water and just wait for something to happen I guess. She didn't really know what to do right now and though she might figure it out with more thought.
You return to the kitchen to drink some water. It tastes like chlorine, which is fortunate, as a change in this particular Edwardstown attribute would likely send you into culture shock practically instantly.
As you drink, you notice Lynn still messing about with the mail in an unsettling manner. Federal crime or not, it's still rude as hell to do that, isn't it? Even if the owner's probably dead or on vacation in the Bahamas. You're pretty sure people still vacation there, anyway. You-
"Hey!"
It's Rita. She seems to have shuffled over to you. Lynn looks over at her, nods. Doesn't look back to the mail, though, just turns entirely to face the two of you in her chair.
"So, Selina. What's your story?" Rita leans toward you, smiling a tad oddly.
Considering who the villains are, people are either going to be dressed like hipsters or in hoodies. Carrie suspects that she will be wearing the latter.
The girl smarter than Carrie was interesting, considering that Carrie had literally all the time in the world to study. She makes a point of watching her, that doesn't seem like it should be normally possible. Carrie continues her schoolwork at the pre-established pace.
Hoodie prepared, you're ready for action. Breaking curfew big time, oh yes!
Also, Ima obviously doesn't do quite as well as you at school, but she certainly comes close without putting in even a twentieth of the effort. Unlike you, she can't really recite schoolbooks by heart as far as you know and she certainly isn't able to solve a trigonometry problem within two seconds, but both of those you can only do because of a massive advantage in time, and not without a great deal of effort, all of which tends to become a tad more complicated as time goes by and some of the irrelevant information you need to learn starts to compete with the other irrelevant information you need to learn. She also has the advantage of not needing to go through high school with the rather fallible brain of a twelve year old, since your powers may do a lot of things, but rapid brain development doesn't seem to be one of them, at least not in immediately relevant areas. She's just a fairly clever, if rather lazy high school student, and the knowledge that she seems to be having a significantly easier time of all this bothers you somewhat, in addition to your freakish prepubescent intellect alienating you from your peers to an insurmountable level.
All in all, you can't help but wish you were a little older, which would solve or at least alleviate a lot of issues.