Empty Chairs, Empty Tables [OPEN / PLOT GROUP THREE]

A soft patter of rain resonated like a pin dropping, those in the quiet room heard it fall incessantly. A woman with auburn hair leaned against a table furthest to the back, her fingers stroking the singed table cloth. With her head turned to the side, it looked picture-esk the way she stood as her hair slipped in front of her blue eyes. It would only seem like a blank stare to the others, as she looked on at their captive--waiting for transport to come back and retrieve this boy. An absent hand moved to brush away Loren's hair, and past her locks, she observed the boy who was propped against the wall, amber eyes glazed over and his mouth part only slightly.

His name was Cornelis Van Seegers, and his power was Tracking Teleportation. Which made it quite difficult to capture him, and also why they put him almost completely under in order to prevent his escape. Needless to say, the boy would not be waking up any time soon. Loren gave one last look at the boy before turning her gaze toward the doors that lead into the hallway. A wistful wave of her hand, and a trap sprung to live just in front of the door, unseen, unheard, virtually undetectable. What kind of idiot would walk through the front door?

"Pull yourselves together, we have transports coming in soon." Her monotone drawl broke the rain's song, boots thudding against the hard floor of the dining room. Eating time was over, they had to prepare to move.

Ryan kicked back in a chair with his soot-caked sneakers propped up on the rich tablecloth. The place was trashed anyways, so for now, he could afford to forget his table manners. He nodded vacantly at Loren's curt order, making no effort to move out of his seat. What did they have to worry about? This was supposed to be one of the toughest nuts to crack in gifted Europe, and they bulled through it like a house of cards. It gave him secondhand embarrassment just thinking back to it.

He didn't take orders from Fish-Eyes. Call him lazy, but he hated wasting any more energy than absolutely necessary—when it came to anything. Life and death included.

What idiot would just waltz right on through the front door?

Well, well, well...

If this narrator isn't fucking glaaaad that you asked.

Sounds of scurry and explosions had already begun to echo the halls, leaving the young man with no desire to try and hide his presence. Admittedly, maybe it left him feeling a bit cool, almost like a badass; as if he had time to spare some of those stupid, selfish thoughts. This wasn't the old tournament. He couldn't afford to be reckless or cocky, too full of himself. It'd just get him killed. He'd already almost been slaughtered once by these assholes and liked to imagine he'd learned his lesson.

Focus on the little things, he told himself. Stay in the moment.

His footsteps echoed, clicking against the smooth marble floor. The pieces of his blade clinked tenderly against each other as they came together and broke again, on the cusp of his grasp, fist clenching and un-clenching itself. Maybe it was a nervous tick of his. After all, he was about to just walk into a room of who-knew-the-fuck-was-there that could do God-knew-what. This was his job now, though. This was what he'd be doing all the time. This was what he had to do.

So be it.

"Hey," Preston put on his best smile, eyes leered - peering into the room. Four in black, but he hadn't the chance to quite see their faces. Not that it mattered. "I'm not late for the party, am I?" A few students were passed out or huddled in the back. He made a small note of it, eying the girl pacing. "Cutie." With a quick snap of his fingers, a white flash of lightning burst through the middle of the room, snapping away at the lights and cracking at windows. All for show. He didn't bother to see who'd it hit as it crashed by the different dark shapes, taking a few sharp steps and rushing inside. Or trying to, in any case.

The unblinking eyes did not flinch as the idiot made his grand entrance, despite the debris being scattered across the room following an explosion. The corners of her mouth quirked up in response, This will be fun, won't it? With a mere snap of her fingers, the Preston was locked into the trap, feet immobilized and as he struggled; his entire body too. Consider it a fly trap. But for idiots.

-----
"--and this, this...how do you say it again?"

"...Motherfucker?"

"Yeah, that. And this motherfucker just sneezes. I'm sure you know how disgusting that is. We just see all the snot and mucus being shot out of their nose in slow motion. I get shivers just thinking about it."

"Are you actually a germaphobe?"

"No! It is just that and coughing that get me, ya' know?"

"You are weird."

"Watch your tongue! I could be your great great great great great grandfather and you may not even know it."

"Somehow I doubt that. Especially with the way you dress. I doubt anyone I'm related to would dress like that."

"What do you mean? I am the pinnacle of fashion!" With the outraged cry of the out of time speedster, they skidded to a stop in front of the broken door. Their conversation had taken less than a second to have, and even less for them to begin another argument and end it within that time period.

"Hey, wait. I think--"

"Sure, your primitive minds may not be able to comprehend the true beauty of--" The pink haired speedster's mouth clamped shut as the red head's hand covered it. A heated glare was sent the other speedster's way, a hand being drawn into a fist. Suddenly, both speedsters took in the view of the room they stood in front of. Both taking account of the trap that now glowed a blue hue mere feet away. Unmoving in the trap was one of the Beata students, whom both Felicity and Icarus vaguely identified.

A shared glance was all the two speedsters needed to leap into action, running up the wall to the side and pushing off to send themselves flying past the blown hinges of the door. Felicity landed on the far side of the trap, barely missing the cut off for it. The satisfied grin on her face was all the others saw before she vanished in a red blur, barreling into Ryan with speedy fists flying. Icarus in that same note--barreled into Preston taking both of them out of the trap and rolling to a stop just outside the trap.

Pink hair shook as Icarus peeled himself off of Preston, muttering futuristic obscenities to himself in a fit of anger. Most of which included comments about Preston's mother and ill-tempered use of modern language woven into a tapestry of profanity. Few words were able to be understood, though some were able to be picked up. Mostly the words; Stupid, ugly, and fish. "Do you not think? At all?" Icarus growled, cheeks puffed. First, his taste in clothing was insulted, now he had to fish out a boy from a trap he put himself into. "This conversation is not over." The boy vanished in a blur, reappearing at Felicity's side fists aimed at Ryan's abdomen.

After Preston had entered and immediately gotten himself trapped and after the two speedsters followed in to free him and then charge at one of the people clad in black, a small, short figure was left standing in the doorway to see the scene unfolding before her now. Despite the fact she was knowingly walking into a war zone, she hadn't bothered to draw either of the karambits that sat attached to a belt around her waist. The reason for this became apparent when she raised an empty palm up towards the AF'er who wasn't about to get pummeled and let loose a green beam of electron-based, superheated doom. Maybe she'd get lucky and this first shot would hit. She mostly hoped that both of their foes were dealt with before they'd be able to retaliate much. Whatever they could do, it was enough for them to capture a school much like their own and take prisoners. Anima really didn't want to see how the hell they managed to pull that off.

Creeeeeeaaakkk.

Some pops, crackles, shattering glass, light bending and flashing in an arc around the room. He opened one eye, barely fazed, just leaning farther back in his chair, only sparing a cursory glance to the kid locked in Loren's trap. One loud douche just waltzing in through the front door... It was just proving his point. There was no use in trying with these kids, or he'd feel like a bully.

Lightning? Used to it at this point. He tried not to dwell on the connection.

CreeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaAAAKKKK—...!

They rushed in, two human blurs, one straight toward him. The chair rocked back on its hind legs as Ryan threw his weight behind him, leaning too far, gut lurching, toppling backwards with his sneakers kicking in the air. Nausea seized him, pain rippling up his abdomen as a flurry of unseen punches connected before he could even hit the ground.

He tumbled back, choking back a grunt of pain, dust flying up from his jacket as he found one knee. Flames washed down his sleeves as he lunged to his feet, grabbing his discarded chair by the top rail and swinging at the two blurred figures racing toward him. The wood ignited the moment it touched his skin, a fireball flinging towards the two speedsters as they closed in on him.

A flaming chair? Talk about yikes! The two speedsters lunged out of the way, watching the chair hurl past them in slow motion. The flames licked at Felicity's hair, causing a yelp from the girl and a resulting tumble in the other direction. The female speedster skidded to the side, mere feet from Loren, who held a grimace to her face. Both making eye contact, and a resulting locking of Felicity's muscles. Unable to free herself, the girl watched in horror as Icarus spun to face monsters of terrifyingly gross proportions. "Grife!" He shouted, turning tail to gain as much distance as he could from the new creatures who crawled from the portal. Felicity let her eyes land back on the woman who had turned to watch the scene unfold. Not even feet from her sat the boy propped against the wall--the boy they were set to rescue.

A blinding light exploded near the entrance of the door followed by a booming roar. Taking up a large portion of the wall, stood a blue dragon. An elegant head arched over the group with glinting eyes, considering their position before lunging at Claire and her monsters with flames licking past her maw, claws shattering the tile below. Soon enough, the chair was not the only thing on fire, but also the many crushed tables and chairs. Preston sheltered under the beast of the dragon, while the pink haired speedster took up shelter near the far corner, watching with wide eyes.

"That. Is. Awesome." The giddy speedster chanted, hopping from one foot to another. [color:f583=a9cce3]"Do you guys see that? A dragon! Soooooooo retro!"

"Please. Shut up." A ginger-haired student strolled by, unphased by the fire consuming the room in a red heat. Eyes landed on a man not too far away, monsters stalking from some portal, and a boy at the far edge unconscious neared by a speedster by the look of her. A smirk crossed Gwyn's face. Hell yes. With shocking dexterity, the girl lunged herself at Loren, senses keeping her from being set ablaze.

The blue eyes of her enemy went wide for a millisecond before a smirk crossed over them like whiteout over a pen marking. Audrey knew it was there. What Audrey knew was that the woman made traps. However, could easily trap herself in one. If only Gwyn could get her to do that. Staying close--she figured. Keeping close to the woman and distracting her would work. She had to try, didn't she?