Archived Hiatus


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Known Aliases
Patt, Patts, Petite, Amber Cecelia Argos, Valkyrie
Color #
(Crim, Lori, you guys can totally end the convo and add stuff in between.) :D

Patty was doing her normal duty, packing things that look like they weighed tons into places that looked like they couldn't handle any more. She had one more hairdryer to add, and she was looking for room to squeeze it in when her phone rang. It looked like her surrogate sis, Crimson (who was probably with her other surrogate sis Lori) was calling, and Patty excitedly hit the green button.

"Where are you guys, oh my God!" she exclaimed, thrilled to hear from them, "did you see the news?" Here, she spotted Kenny coming down to the hangar and awkwardly looking at her.

"Shoot, I gotta go soon," she said, "Kenny's here and we're heading to New York," like a bee, she worked, "If you got the time, we tots have to meet up,"

Patty managed to shove in her last bits of items, "you'll prolly get there before we do, but if you could, like, get a hotel and stuff around Rockefeller so we can ice skate and shop, that'd be way cool!"


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Known Aliases
Iv', Ives
Color #
Traffic was a nightmare. Slamming the door of a black standard issue ACME SUV, Ivy pulled a shearling jacket over her shoulders, her hair tied in a messy bun, and her communicator (with its broken strap) gripped tightly in her right hand.

It was approximately 8:10 PM, and she was somewhere among the crowd of civilians who had come to take a look at the complex. They were really too far away to see much, but from this distance the compound looked like a circus. Flood lights highlighted the wreckage and a large collapsible stage was set up near the center of the area. The press seemed to spill over the edges, photographers and camera men up in front, being pushed forward by incoming reporters. And right on cue, the ring master arrived. Chase Devineaux, suited, shaven, and looking every bit his reassuring self took the stage. It was ACME quite literally putting their best face forward.

Ivy's communicator beeped with a message from her former colleagues in Hong Kong asking about the situation at HQ. She discreetly answered, noting down the area that was missing and assuring them that much of the complex was still intact. Tanya must be working overtime with PR stateside.

"It was stolen."

Ivy's face shot up from her communicator screen as the crowd now openly questioned one another on what those words meant.

"Oh, this is bad…"

"We have enough to suspect a notorious crime ring, led by a figure with the moniker 'Carmen Sandiego',"

"Really bad…"

"Of urgency, Hailey Weller--six--may have been inside the building at the time,"

"Really, really bad."

Another message lit up on her screen, followed by four more. Quite evidently, the show had begun.

Sarah Nade

Musical Genius
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Time: 3:00am GMT
Location: London

Laying low was AWESOME. Short of a paid vacation laying low, in Sarah's personal opinion, was the best way for a VILE villain to spend their time. Been on the news a bit too much lately? Had your name on every ACME agent's lips from here to Kalamazoo? Maybe seen the inside of a cell a wee bit more than you like? It was time to go somewhere that no one knew you name and just exist. Don't make any good friends, don't plant any roots, just let the world forget you.

London was one of Sarah's most favorite places to lay low. No new language to learn, lovely accents to listen to, late night bars, great music if you knew where to look. In fact that was really her reason for loving everything within the British isles.

Currently sporting a blond mohawk her places to not stick out as much were really more limited to some of London's seedier locations but truth be told she liked it that way. Her current dig, a hole in the wall called the Pauper's Spit, had lost most of its clientele by 2am, leaving only the hardcore drinkers and partiers to remain. A 7 foot tall leather clad cue ball named Teddy had been chatting her up for most of the last hour and had bought her a steady stream of drinks, his intentions of this encounter having been made incredibly clear. Sarah, a notorious heavyweight drinker, had decided she'd just about reached her limit and was about ready to ditch the jolly green giant when the bar's television started to flash a special bulletin.

Interrupting an old episode of Jeeves and Wooster was suddenly video of a very very familiar site indeed. ACME's headquarters. Or what WAS ACME's Headquarters, now a giant hole in the ground. Sarah's gray eyes widened as she realized what had happened and she quickly flagged down the bartender.

"Hey! Turn that up, would you?" she asked. Teddy looked at her with a raised brow, about to ask what she wanted with footage of something happening over in the states when Sarah placed a single finger in front of his face, motioning him to be silent.

"Good evening, Ladies and gentlemen of the press," he started, "at approximately 3:15 AM, this morning, the main tower in our compound disappeared," pausing briefly, he made the difficult decision to be truthful.

"It was stolen."

"Holy S$%T!" Sarah exclaimed, now completely engrossed with the television as she took another sip of her beer and laughed. "Thats AMAZING!"

Teddy, finally tired of not getting the proper attention he was searching for after all the drinks he'd bought her, slid his hand on her jeans covered hip. "I bet you I could show you something better." Without even looking Sarah's hand slapped his away hard.

"I doubt it. Shut up." she said, not even bothering to remove her gaze from the television.

The speaker continued, "We have enough to suspect a notorious crime ring, led by a figure with the moniker 'Carmen Sandiego'," more questions arose, but Chase ignored them. He named the culprit, now he was going to provide his conditions. "Of urgency, Hailey Weller--six--may have been inside the building at the time," the journalists became quiet at news of Dr. Weller's granddaughter, "We have yet to hear from any party regarding her status, but I would encourage dialog to be established within the next twenty-four hours."

Sarah's jaw nearly dropped. "Holy... S#$T."

The insulted giant next to her twisted the swivel top of her barstool around to make her face him. "HEY! What's the big idea!?"

Already Sarah had started reaching for her means of communication, a pay as you go phone which sat in the pocket of her leather jacket. Using the turned momentum she hopped down from the bar stool and walked around the angry leather daddy, not even acknowledging him. Her mind was not on booze or men but on her place of work. Her mind was on VILE.

Starting to dial a number Sarah stopped short as Teddy grabbed her arm hard. "You listen here..." he'd started to say, bringing his face down to be level with hers to tell her exactly what he thought of her disrespectful ways. That was, as they say, a mistake. A big mistake. Before the bartender could even begin to tell him 'No meant no' Sarah's fist had connected with Teddy's glass jaw, sending him sprawling on the floor.

The bar went silent.

"Oi! Nice job." the bartender finally spoke up. "Looked like he had it coming."

Sarah shook her hand a couple of times before producing a couple of large bills from her pocket and placing them on the bar. "Thats to cover him, me, and a round for the house." she said simply, not that she was sorry for what she'd done but getting into bar fights, no matter how one sided they were, clearly violated the idea of laying low. It was time to get out of there. Without another word Sarah left the bar for the chilly morning air, making her way down the street.

One hand started to dial the phone again while the other reached for her pack of cigarettes, popping one out of the pack and placing it between her lips before reaching for her lighter. Confident that she'd dialed what she wanted correctly she held the phone to her ear.

Someone had to know where that tower was. Wherever it was Sarah had a feeling she should be there.

Emma Bezzle

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Known Aliases
Emma, Em, Bez, or Bezzy
Color #
Loralye grabbed the phone and started pushing the buttons that Crimson had instructed. The number that showed up on the screen was familiar, but Lora couldn't be sure. She held the small phone tightly against her face as they passed numerous large and noisy rooms filled with other means of gambling; the ringing had been almost inaudible.

"Where are you guys, oh my God!"

Lora smiled to herself. That was Patty for you. She should have known that Crimson would go to no other than their non-blood sister for information. "We're in Vegas, but-"

"Did you see the news?"

"Yes, we did," said Lora. She could hear Patty struggling with something in the background. "We were won-"

"Shoot, I gotta go soon. Kenny's here and we're heading to New York."

So that's what the noise was. Patty was clearly trying to stuff too much into a suitcase again. "If you got the time, we tots have to meet up! You'll prolly get there before we do, but if you could, like, get a hotel and stuff around Rockefeller so we can ice skate and shop, that'd be way cool!"

"Sure, sure," she said. "I'll have Crim get you the details. Love ya sis!" And Lora hung up.


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Color #
When part of the team was in Luxemborg, Nevon had been taking a NAP. No, not that kind of nap, the Necessary Advancement Programs designed for agents who couldn't pass certain sections of the academy but needed the credits to claim their badges.

He had been studying and was in media blackout at the University of San Diego where a part of the NAP was held. On the morning he was going back to San Francisco, his mother messaged him from Seattle asking if everything was ok. "Things are fine mom, thanks for the cookies, they came yesterday," he texted her back.

"OK, be safe!" his mother wrote, "your aunt and I will be watching the TV when your boss has the press conference."

"What?" Nevon thought out loud. This was something he should have known about, that Chase Devineaux was back in town, and holding a press conference too!

Nevon Blair had been a fan of ACME since his younger days, but he never dared to apply as an agent. Eventually, he took accounting as his major and sent his resume to ACME in Seattle, where they do a lot with numbers. Only a year or so in, he found himself a girlfriend, another accountant here in ACME San Francisco. As the story goes, he transferred over, and she suggested he took the agent route. He did.

He was barely here a few weeks when he ran into Chase Devineaux and a busted Porsche Cayman in front of the ACME garage. With all the things he'd heard about Chase, Nev was inspired. Surely, this was the man to be his guide.

Nev turned on the radio in the car, and listened to news reports about the ACME Tower having disappeared, but he couldn't believe any of them. So by the time he got back to San Francisco, it took him 4 hours just to get back to the compound, the press conference was already underway. Nevon couldn't believe his eyes. No tower. And Chase looked awesome.

As he listened, Nev imagined how his self-appointed mentor must be feeling, in the glare of the lights and the nagging reporters. He had a flashback of the Blue Moon Masquerade and wondered if VILE was acting on this as a kind of revenge. What if this thing went on forever, and ACME took over VILE's headquarters next. They'd be taking all kinds of strange things out of the headquarters of a master criminal, like a giant bowling ball, or the missing arms of the Venus statue.

Daydreaming and walking wasn't his thing, and Nevon tripped, almost falling flat on his face. When he got up, the press conference was over, Chase left the stage, and people were talking among themselves. Nev ran towards the center to find other agents. He had to check-in somehow and make himself useful. That's what Chase would want, nay, expect him to do.


Deric Storm

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Known Aliases
Farmboy, Calamity, Stormblood
Color #
(This post was a collaboration between myself, LeeJordan, and Calico. Also there are quotes from Chase and E_Lou_Sive in here as well. Enjoy)

Deric could see the gathered members of the press conversing amongst themselves while someone from ACME’s Public Relations department went over a few ground rules for the presser. He wasn’t really paying attention though; he was busy trying to put some more of the pieces together in his head.

As he had walked towards the press conference from the crater, an older agent came up beside him. “Did you discover anything interesting during your search of the crime scene?” he asked.

“Don’t know yet.” Deric responded with a tired smirk. From what he could gather, VILE had used ACME’s own C-5 system to steal ACME Tower. But, as always with VILE, answering one question led to two more questions. In this case, it was two obvious questions: ‘where did they take it?’ and ‘how in the hell did they get access to the C-5?’

Hopefully, they had the means to answer the first question. The second question was what worried him the most because it had the most negative repercussions. Rubbing the fatigue out of his eyes, he noticed a familiar face in the crowd at the back of the press area. Seeing his target in conversation with someone, Deric was able to sneak up on and tap her on the shoulder.

“’Allo dearie,” Deric said with a fake British accent. Cali Oliveira turned around and, seeing who it was gave him a quick hug.

“Hey moço,” she said, beaming. “You are not supposed to be here?” she asked, in her Brazilian accent, “I thought you are home for holiday?”

“Figured I could be of help, so I came back.” Deric said, stretching. The drive from Nebraska had not been easy. Cali could see the tired look on his face.

“You look awful,” Cali chided him. “When is the last time you sleeped?”

“I’ll sleep when we get our HQ back,” he joked. “Anyway have you seen someone from the R&D department or Tech Support? I think I have an idea of how we can find the Tower.”

“Actually,” she smiled, “I chatted with Matt,” she motioned to the young man next to them. “He was working the night that it happened.” Looking to the young technician, she said “Mattie, could you tell Deric too?”

The young technician sighed before retelling his story. It obviously wasn’t his first time retelling what happened that night. “I was at my station when, all of a sudden, an alarm sounded. We were told to evacuate because of a gas leak. Next thing we know, the whole building just disappears into thin air.”

“Could it have been an accident with the C-5?” Deric asked pointedly.

The tech shook his head. “You need an authorization code to access the C-5. No way it would be an accident. Why? Is that what happened?”

“Possibly,” Deric answered. “Say it was stolen, would there be a way to trace the C-5? An energy signature or anything like that?”

“Theoretically.” Matt answered, raising Deric’s spirits somewhat. “We might be able to scan for its harmonic frequency or its power consumption or…”

“Matt,” Cali interjected, starting to see where Deric might be going with his line of questioning, “How could someone not with ACME get access to the C-5?” Both agents looked at the tech, who squirmed a little under their gaze.

“That’s easy,” Matt said, “you can’t. Sorry guys, but I gotta get back to work. Later.” The young tech scurried away from the tense conversation.

“So, what are you thinking?” Cali asked Deric, “Someone breaks into the C-5?”

“Actually, Cali, I think…” Deric stopped mid-sentence as he saw Chase walk to the podium. “Here comes Chase. What do you think Cal, truth or damage control?”

“I don’t think Chase will tell the press it is Carmen who stole the building, we do not have anything to accuse them.” Deric nodded in agreement. A hush fell over the crowd as Chase began to speak.

"Good evening, Ladies and gentlemen of the press, at approximately 3:15 AM, this morning, the main tower in our compound disappeared. It was stolen.”

Deric and Cali were both stunned. The press corps exploded in noise, each one trying to get their questions answered. Out of the corner of his eye, Deric spotted someone that might know a little bit more about what happened. “I’ll be right back, Cali.” He quickly strode towards Lee Jordan, once one of ACME’s top agents, now one of Chase’s snitches. It was now clear to his tired mind that VILE didn’t break in, they were let in and Deric had a good idea by whom.

Deric could hear Chase continue to give his speech as he neared Lee.

"We have enough to suspect a notorious crime ring, led by a figure with the moniker 'Carmen Sandiego'."

Deric quickly said, “Jordan, we need to talk,” before roughly pulling him away from the presser.

“What do you want, Storm?” Jordan asked, trying to ignore the pain in his injured ankle and in the shoulder Deric was squeezing. “Hey, watch it.”

“I wanna know how much, Lee?” Deric asked, his tone becoming accusatory. “How much did you get in exchange for your second chance?”

Lee knocked Deric’s hand off of his shoulders. “What the !@#$% are you talking about?” he spat, walking back towards the press conference. Deric’s arm came up, blocking his way.

Deric spat back, “Once a rat, always a rat. You betrayed us once before. What would stop you now?” Lee was about to say something when Chase’s voice echoed from the podium.

"Of urgency, Hailey Weller--six--may have been inside the building at the time. We have yet to hear from any party regarding her status, but I would encourage dialog to be established within the next twenty-four hours."

Now seeing red, Deric grabbed Lee by the front of his shirt. Lifting him up to eye level, Deric spoke in a low, menacing tow. “Alright Lee, enough screwing around. Where did she ta..” Deric was cut off by Lee’s good foot kicking his shin and Lee’s right fist connecting with his jaw.

Released from the hold, Lee took off as quickly as he could on his bad ankle. Deric was nuts. He made it about a hundred feet before the Hulk tackled him. Rolling on the ground, Jordan found himself on the dirt with the large blonde’s knee on his lower abdomen and one of his arms pushing into his throat. “Get off me!” He attempted to shout.

“ARE YOU KIDDING ME, JORDAN?” Deric roared. “I want the location, and I want… it… NOW!!! Where’s the Tower?” All Lee could do was shaking his head to try and convince the irate Irishman that he was relatively innocent. Some of the detectives nearby were converging on their location.

“Deric,” someone said, grabbing at Deric’s arm in an attempt to pull him off.

Deric shrugged off the person pulling at his free arm. “If anything happens to that kid, Lee, it’ll be on your head. Do you want that?” There was nothing from Lee. “I swear to God, I will pop your head like a pimple. WHERE IS SHE????” His free hand reached for his sidearm, unbuckling it.

“DERIC, stop!!” the same person yelled, physically pulling the young Nebraskan off of Lee before he did something irrevocable. Deric grabbed a hold of the person who pushed him off and was about to throw a punch when he saw who it was.


Looking back at Lee, who was cradling his throat and trying to catch his breath, and back at Cali, who was actually scared at that moment, Deric realized he went too far. He could see some flashbulbs going off from the press who had come over as well. At that moment, only one thought went through Deric’s head.

I’m screwed…’


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[E Lou Sive]

“Don’t know yet,” the man said in response to Brian's query then walked away to talk to another agent whom he saw approaching. "Hmm," Brian muttered as he sat down and listened to what Chase had to say.

The things he heard felt like sucker punches to the chest: "It was stolen"..."Hailey Weller--six--may have been inside the building at the time"...and suddenly, “ARE YOU KIDDING ME, JORDAN?” This last statement snapped Brian into action.

He turned around and saw the man he'd just spoken to in a tussle with Lee Jordan. Seeing cameras closing in on the scuffle, Brian knew he couldn't end the matter and break up the crowd, but he knew who could.

As fast as he could, Brian rushed to meet Chase as he exited the stage. He greeted Chase with the words: "Mr. Field Director, Agent Brian Graves. You're needed where the cameras are. There has been a confrontation between one of our agents and Lee Jordan. What are your orders, sir?"


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Known Aliases
Color #
Calina Oliveira Corranos, as her mother might call when she had covered one of her brothers in mud, had gone from frightened to very, very angry.

She snatched her arms away from Deric and swung her best one to slap him.

She thought also to yell at him in Brazilian Portuguese, but he would not understand a word. Especially when he was acting like a bull with no ability to think of right and wrong. And since the cameras were coming to them, she had to react fast.

"Oh, come with me," she said, and reached to take his wrist, "We go to my room, you need cold shower."

((OOC: I did not actually have her slap him or take his wrist, so Deric, you can choose if the actions are completed.))


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Philo watched the whole situation unfold while shaking his head. That Deric Storm kid was stubborn as a mule and twice as stupid. Sure, he was the first one of these other dumbfounded gumshoes to actually establish a means of transport, and it was a doozy: of course someone could have easily high-tailed virtually anywhere with a building if they had access to ACME's fancy-shmancy matter transporter. Philo had to give the boss credit for thinking of it, if only now in all of the years she was entwined with ACME. She had all these agents flopping around like fish out of water trying to discover the trick. Who knows if they actually ever would, although Philo was confident eventually they'd have things squared away crime wise.

A few things didn't click right with the mechanic, though: Why did Carmen kidnap the girl? Carmen had no qualms with making off with the Eiffel Tower if the mood swung her way, but never would that mood ever dictate that she ever abduct anyone. The merest threat of there being so much as an innocent bystander in the way would appropriately slow Carmen down, and often did, resulting in ACME's only record of genuine near-captures. The only other possibility would be that the girl was in the building and Carmen stole it without knowing she's there. Maybe to these gumshoes it would seem farfetched. After all, the building had some great security stats. The flaw in that logic, naturally, was that if their security were truly that good, nobody would have been able to rip off the building.

That was one of the many flaws in Storm's logic, Philo cracked his knuckles and prepared to confront Storm with the other flaws. He silently made a mental note to apologize to Calico later: the testosterone poisoning had only just begun to waft in the air.

Before Cali could usher him away, Philo put his foot between her and Storm and squeezed his way in between the two of them, making a show of pushing Storm back a centimeter by bouncing him off his belly and looking him so closely in the eye that Deric could see Philo's eyes through the reflection in his sunglasses.

"Okay, thunderhead, lissen tightly: Jordan ain't deh only VILE crosstitch in dis outfit. I used to be freakin' Top Grunge. You gonna come after me next? Neh, I know you ain't and I'll tell you why: if either of us were an accomplice to dis, do you think we'd be out in deh open, in front of deh press and a gaggle of yeh so-called 'master detectives' if we were deh slghtest bit guilty? No, we'd have taken dat sailplane out to wherever Carmen woulda hid us. I'm sure you woulda though of dat, if yeh was doin' any thinkin' at all."

"Dat's another thing: yeh're all geatly overestimating Carmen here. She didn't up and take deh building and deh girl jus' because she hates you all for keepin' her captive as a brain child, eh? Nah, she stole your building deh same reason she steals anything, because dere was somethin' about it she wanted. She's gonna look for it, take it, and leave your tower in a place where deh pack of you can THINK yeh solved some major case. Chief Weller's granddaughter is a bystander here, an' maybe though you got deh right attitude, you are takin' deh wrong action. We have teh work together to make sure she's protected and not brought teh' any harm. Punchin' Jordan, as fun as it is, don't do nothin' to protect nobody."

"Last thing I'm gonna say before you ignore it all and act like yeh usual spitfire self: If yeh're right and Carmen stole deh building by C-5, whoever accessed the portal needed clearence, if dey needed clearence dat means dey were inside of Crime-Net, and if dey were in Crime-Net, dere has teh be some traces of it somewhere in deh database. Findng out where deh tower is might jus' be as simple as findin' where dat signal came from." Philo took a couple steps back from Storm, paused, gave him an 'I'm watching you' gesture with his fingers, then turned his back and walked away.


Chief of ACME
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Known Aliases
Dr. Everard Weller
(This had been written with Tanya, with additional editing by Carmen, thank you to both of you.)

While commotion at the site of ACME compound escalated, streets away, the Board was having a fight of their own. Verbal assaults, politely used, were thrown across the conference table. Everything from estimating what had gone wrong to attempts at predicting the future resulted in the same conclusion: their 'good son' was problematic.

"And that's the thing," said the wiry board member with the nasal voice, "we can't do anything to him. Fire him and this blows up. VILE might as well have taken the entire compound!"

"You are neglecting that he may have saved us all from proper embarrassment!" The injection belonged to Chief Weller, as it was characteristically followed by a puff of his pipe, "The script was flawed."

"The script, my good man, was an order!" chimed a larger man, who was returning to his seat from getting another morsel at the conference room's food table, "and with the rumours, one might wonder about that boy's part in the entire heist. Weller, you sent that Wayward agent after him, did you? Find anything, chap?"

"Melissa found nothing," Dr. Weller exhaled, "Chase Devineaux, as he should be, is clean."

There was a silence, and the man who just sat down gingerly wiped his hands on a napkin as if to apologize for slipping the point no one wanted to hear.

At one end of the table sat the board's only female member, Barbara Rosen. Like others in the room, she had a long list of accolades before joining ACME's board. The shortlist is that she had been a lawyer, spending forty years in the judicial system; she remained a consulting partner of many law firms; and her two sons, whom she insisted on meeting no more than twice a year (including the holidays), were successful surgeons.

Mrs. Rosen adjusted the crisp edges of her suit and leaned forward. "Do we all believe it is best that we let this matter sort itself?" she began with a question.

Chief Everard Weller, with his years of experience, understood that Barbara Rosen wasn't opening the floor for debate, she was about to close it. He removed his pipe.

"You once stated, Dr. Weller, that men like Chase Devineaux cannot be judged on the standards we judge others," she was referring to a meeting not too many years ago where a younger Detective Devineaux had submitted to the board a resignation letter due to 'conflict of interest', "That his decisions are often based on the intangible values most of us find unnecessary." His letter was denied then, purely because Everard Weller convinced him to rethink.

"Not my exact words," Chief replied, "but go on, Barbara."

"We," she emphasized on the word, "cannot, and should not, do anything to him."

"He can't just do whatever he wants, that's an outrage!" someone else in the room interrupted, but Mrs. Rosen held up a hand to stop him.

"However," she continued, unfazed, "our Field Director, whether or not incidental, made the decision to go to Luxembourg. I am sure he won't deny fault."

The board looked questioningly at one another.

Chief Weller's face fell, "You're not suggesting that we demand he assumes responsibility for the missing tower?"

"I think Barbara's on the ball," the corpulent man finished another sandwich, "If he has any honour, he'll resign."

"We're not demanding anything," Barbara clarified, "Mr. Devineaux is a loyal employee, but we must be keen that the board is in charge of these decisions, not a Department Head."

"The man is smarter than he lets on," the wiry man, known for his opinion, added, "we'll see how well this works." He looked around, but primarily at Dr. Weller "Now, which one of us is going to tell our boy that he's leaving ACME?"


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Lee Jordan was relieved when that bomb squad girl got the hulk off him. He had been catching his breath when Carmen's old Mechanic, Top Grunge, or Felix, Philo, whatever, was giving the blond kid a lecture.

"Hey, thanks..." Lee said when Philo was walking off, but the mechanic didn't seem like he noticed.

Brushing himself off, he cursed under his breath. He should have just stayed in Luxembourg instead of coming back to SF, but it was a free ride back to the U.S. and he needed to see the tower gone.

Getting hit was bad, but at least it was educational. If that Deric hadn't buckled him, Lee probably wouldn't have stayed to see Chase tell the world the truth. To Lee, that was a stupid move.

Jordan made his way back into the crowd to disappear, he was still bent on finding a link to VILE. Somebody had to have made a mistake somewhere.

Deric Storm

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Known Aliases
Farmboy, Calamity, Stormblood
Color #

Deric woke with a start.

He felt like hell. Looking around, he saw he was in a bathtub, clad only in his underwear. A steady stream of lukewarm water was spraying onto his body.

‘What the hell? This isn't MY bathroom.' he thought as he surveyed the surroundings. ‘Where am I?' Over the sound of the rushing water, Deric could hear a muffled sound of a television as well as an angry female's voice speaking rapidly in Portuguese.  

‘The only woman I know who speaks Portuguese is...' he thought before finishing aloud, "Cali." A sharp and sudden pain came from his jaw as he pronounced the last syllable. The pain kick-started his sleep-dulled mind into remembering the events of the past few hours.

Driving nonstop from Fairview... the crater... the C-5 can be tracked... Someone was able to break into the C-5... the press conference... It was stolen... Lee Jordan... Hailey Weller... inside the building at the time... the world going red... need a name... DERIC, don't!!!... Cali...

Deric felt absolutely ill. The woman who owned a large portion of his heart had stopped him from doing something unforgivable and he almost hit her for that. Running his hand through his wet hair in frustration, Deric knew he had screwed up royally this time. "Bloody hell," he sighed. Looking straight ahead, Deric watched the water go down the bathtub's drain. ‘Just like my career as a detective,' he thought sardonically.

He heard his name spoken in that same angry tone. ‘Great,' Deric thought, ‘not only have I flushed my career, but now Cali probably hates me as well.' Deric hadn't screwed up this badly since...

Taking his watch off his left wrist, Deric could get a better look at the scar, a constant reminder of his last major regret. As much as he liked Cali, that was one secret he wasn't ready to share with her yet. Taking a deep breath to steel himself for what was to come, Deric turned off the shower. He might not be able to save his career, but he would be damned if he couldn't save his friendship with the lovely Brazilian.

Wrapping a towel around his waist, Deric stepped out of the bathroom.

"Hey, Cali..." he began to say.

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