Elizabeth "Spitfire" Wendall's Story

Spitfire grinned as she walked through the junkyard filled with charred items. Spitfire focused on a plaid couch and set it on fire. The sides of her mouth tugged up in a smile. She put her hand in the fire. It felt great. She put her whole face in it. It was her idea of refreshing. She heard a voice call. "Elizabeth!" A voice called out. "Are you in the junkyard again?"

"Crap. COMING!" Spitfire called out. She picked up a water bottle from a nearby nightstand and poured it on the fire. It stopped and Spitfire started towards her house, but then noticed a dog in the middle of the road. "Stupid dog. C'mon, get out of the road!" She chased the dog out of the road. "C'mon, stupid dog," "Elizabeth! Where are you!"

"One second!" Spitfire groaned as she herded the dog out of the road. Headlights appeared. "Ugh, come on dumb dog! You're going to get run over," She warned. The dog finally moved. As she looked up, she realized that the headlights were motorcycles. One of the motorcycles pulled over. "Spitfire!" The man grinned and took off his helmet. "Wanna go riding?"

Spitfire thought for a second. "Um... no thanks," "Aw, you're no fun," "ELIZABETH! WHERE ARE YOU?" The voice yelled. Spitfire made a face. "Yeah... you might want to get going," The man said. "Eh, let's go, I'm already in trouble," "Nice!" The man unmounted and pulled it over to the other side of the road.

"Your's is much better, let's ride that one," Spitfire nodded and pulled her motorcycle out. It was a rose color on the front, and black with flames in the back. Spitfire put her helmet on. "I'm drying!" She yelled, getting on the bike. THe guy, Cyrus, laughed and got on the back. "Yeah, just don't kill me!" "I promise nothing!" Spitfire laughed as she drove off. "WOO!" Spitfire exclaimed as they past her house fast.

"Hey, wanna go for a walk?" "Yeah!" Spitfire yelled over the engine. They pulled over by the woods and got off. "C'mon!" Spitfire ran off, Cyrus trying to keep up with her. "HEY CRYUS!" A voice yelled. It was his friend. "Meet you later!" HE yelled out to Spitfire. She nodded and walked deeper into the forest, the chilly breeze going thorough her hair.

Star remained very silent, slowly blending into her surrounding, nearly becoming invisible. She felt a weird tingly feeling and the number 4 bounce around inside her mind, with the faint pulse of the number 1. Confused, Star decided she didn't want to stay here. Star could teleport anywhere in a 5 mile radius, so, not wanting to be seen, she decided to pop out of the forest. When she emerged on a road, the tingling grew worse, except she could only make out the number 1 in her mind. A man no to far away form her had stopped his truck and was staring aimlessly at the woods. Seeing as Star was still camouflaged, he wouldn't be able to see her. Whenever she glanced at the man she got the weirdest feeling. Almost on instinct, she decided to find out who he was.

But before she could show herself, he suddenly pushed the gas and was speeding away. Star concentrated and teleported onto the bed of the truck. Not wanting to cause a scene to any cars passing by, Star transformed into a simple blue-jay. It was painful and slow, but better than getting spotted on the roof of some guys car. All the while, the odd feeling radiated from the number on her neck. The guy had gotten out and went into a house, but came out a little later and drove to a bar.

Curious, she transformed back into her normal self and entered the bar, grabbing a seat at the counter, close to the guy and a girl who faintly resembled the man. She guess maybe they were siblings. And judging by the conversation, they were. Suddenly, a comment sparked Star's interest. ""Well why don't you just read my mind and figure it out!"

Could it be true? Weirder things have happened. And what was with the weird feeling? Shaking her head, she realized the guy was leaving. Star didn't have any money on her so she couldn't pay. Felling guilty, she teleported out of there, hoping the bartender didn't see her teleport.

But Star had missed her target. She didn't teleport where she thought she would end up. Instead, she teleported right in from of the guy that just left. Letting out a startled scream of fright, She backed up, nearly tripping to the ground.

(I just realized that we have to same first name)

Spitfire grumbled as she texted Cyrus. One of the keys wouldn't work. Spitfire frowned in frustration as she pressed the glass, hard. It shattered and it broke into a million little pieces. "Dammit!" Spitfire exclaimed, throwing her phone at the ground. It made an indention in the ground. "Oops," She winced as she picked it up carefully. Spitfire knew it couldn't be repaired. She held a flame to it until it turned to ashes. "There, no one needs to know," Spitfire exclaimed, dusting off her hands.

Spitfire kept walking. It was getting chilly. "I better head home," She grumbled. Her leggings got stuck on a thorn, shredding it. "Ugh!" Spitfire untangled the mess. The leggings had ripped at her ankle. Spitfire sat down and pulled out a safety pin and held the leggings together. "I;ll just throw these away, and it'll all be good," Spitfire exclaimed. She walked along and got out of the forest. She tried to start up her motorcycle, but it made a horrible sound. "UGH!" Spitfire kicked it in frustration. A huge dent appeared. Spitfire hit her head as she tried to bend it back to shape. She looked up, it was pretty dark on the road. Even if she got it in working order, her headlight was shattered now.

Spitfire groaned as she started to walk her bike along. "This will take FOREVER!" She yelled out, scaring a few birds away. Spitfire could feel an intense warmth growing in her head. She quickly blew on her hands, which had started to smolder and smoke. "Ugh!" She cried out in frustration.

Spitfire finally got home. Her mother glared at her. "Where were you?" She demanded. "I was on a walk!" "You know, I can kick you out right now! You shouldn't have been depending on me this long! If you want, you can just go live with your whack brothers!" "Stop! They're not whack, or bad role models or anything. YOU are the worst!" Spitfire pointed her finger towards her, accidentally setting her clothes on fire.

"AH!" She screamed, running for the kitchen sink, dousing herself in water. "I-I'm so sorry!" "THAT'S IT! GET OUT!" Her mother hissed, pushing Spitfire out of the house. "NOW!" She demanded. Spitfire hesitated, but started to run as fast as she could. She felt embarrassed and ashamed. She kicked at the ground, knocking the safety pin out of her legging. "Stupid thing," She muttered, trying to put it back in. She dropped it, and it rolled into the sewer. "UGH!" She threw her hands up in the air.

Spitfire walked her bike along some more before the anger just built up inside her. She punted the motorcycle, making it fly. It landed in the middle of the road, luckily, no one was there. It had made a big dent in the road. Spitfire pushed it behind the bushes, hiding it. She walked along, the grass burning slightly as she stepped on it.

Spitfire huddled up, cold from the rain. She spat at the ground, angry with her mother. She kicked at the ground once more before sitting dow, her back against a wet tree.

Spitfire shuddered, suffering from the freezing cold rain. She clenched her fists. She hated both rain and the cold, it just didn't go with her. She was going to get sick at this rate.

Spitfire let out a sneeze into her elbow, which left her sleeve charred. She frowned. She could find her two brothers, Cyrus was everywhere, and maybe Tom was back at the auto shop. Maybe. She stood up, cold as she rubbed her shoulders.

She walked across the sidewalk, holding out her thumb.

Spitfire stood there for about five minutes before giving up. A scowl appeared on her face. Now that she thought about it, her brothers wouldn't be able to take her in. Cyrus was living off a odd job salary, she didn't know where Tom was, and he lived in a one bedroom house with his girlfriend already, and she hated Spitfire. Spitfire rubbed her shoulders. The rain was freezing.

Spitfire sat down dangerously close to the road, rubbing her boots on the sidewalk. She scowled at the cars passing by. She was cold and was homeless for the moment. She traced her finger on the sidewalk, studying a leaf imprint. She sighed. Spitfire hugged herself again, slowly rocking back and forth, humming to herself.

Spitfire opened her eyes. She groaned at the thought of sunlight, and seeing it was even worse. Suddenly, losing her balance, she fell out of the tree she had slept in. The ground was muddy, and she ended up falling in a big mud slick. "AH!" She let out a shriek as she stood up and slipped again. She sneezed, setting her sleeve on fire. She scuffed it out and shivered. Spitfire felt crappy. She was still damp from the rain. Now she would be walking, homeless, damp and mud covered to who knew where. Sadly, the mud would only dry over time. Looking back at the direction of her house, she shook her head.

Spitfire looked up at the bright sun that was blinding her. She put her hand in front of it, shielding her eyes. She slowly moved her hand from the sun, slowly getting used to the light. Once she was used to it, Spitfire started a slow jog through the forest before she came to the sidewalk, her feet slapping the ground. She let out a fit of coughing followed by some sneezes. She hugged herself as she ran along. She wanted to go home, but that meant defeat, giving up. And now that she had been really kicked out, there was no going back. She couldn't stay with Cyrus or Tom, that would put them in too much danger. Besides, they had themselves to take care of, and they could barely do that.

Spitfire fumbled through her wallet. There was a mud-soaked five and three twenties. That was enough to get her food for about three or so days, considering she would eat gas station food and maybe they would let her inside a McDonalds if she cleaned up a bit. Her stomach growled loudly. If she was at home, she would be eating some yogurt and granola, sipping on iced tea and she logged onto online college. That was never her home. Her real parents weren't there, just a crabby old lady and a slob who were still better then the rest. She moved her fiery red hair back. There was an uncomfortable crick in her neck. Rubbing it, she sighed. "I guess that's what happens when you sleep in a tree," She muttered.

Once she reached a bus stop, she sat down on the bench. Most likely, she couldn't afford a bus ride. Suddenly, an old rust bucket made the climb from a hill up to the bus stop, then halted to a stop. The tinted windows rolled down, revealing an unwelcome sight. Recognizing the car, Spitfire tried to cover her face with her knees. A loud laugh came from the girl, who roughly moved her legs aside. "There you are freak! I told Tom it wouldn't be long until your mother kicked your pathetic ass out," Another snicker came from beside her, one of her stupid friends. Spitfire huddled up some more. "Aw, what's wrong freak?" Tom's girlfriend, Kelly, kept trashing her before Spitfire had enough.

Spitfire suddenly stood up without waring. She punched Kelly in the face. "AH!" She screamed. "My nose! My nose!" She cried as she was beaten to the ground, Spitfire hitting her nose constantly. Her friend backed up in horror as she spied Kelly's nose. It was bloody, and the skin was raw, thanks to Spitfire's strength. "Next time, it won't be your goddamn nose!" Spitfire yelled. She started to run, leaving the two girls to shriek over her nose.

Spitfire trudged along. Spying a stray hoodie, she snatched it up and put it on. It was bright red. She looked pretty odd, almost walk of shame-like. She shoved her hands in it and put up the hood, closing it up so far you couldn't see her face well. Spitfire sat on a bench next to an old lady waiting for someone to pick her up. The old lady started to go on about something that Spitfire could care less about. Once a car appeared, the old woman ran towards it and they drove off. Spitfire saw something on the ground. It was a wallet. She looked inside. It was the old ladies', but there was no way to track her down. Spitfire grinned at the sight of cash. She pulled out enough money to buy herself some lunch and headed into a restaurant. She still had some mud on her clothes, but the hoodie covered it.

Once she was seated, Spitfire looked around. She could see everyone seated, filling up the booths. None of them were alone. There was an old couple, a family of three, a family with five kids, etc. She waited for someone to ask for her order when she saw a car pull up. She watched intently as she saw something strange. Did that girl's hair just change? Spitfire rubbed her eyes, shaking her head. She was probably just tired. After she and a guy got seated, Spitfire let out a loud sneeze. She quickly patted out the fire her sneeze had started. Hopefully no one saw, and no one seemed to. Spitfire let out a sigh of relief.

Adam Dawson

Walking down main street Adam in a great mood, he held his deck of cards in his hands and was performing basic cardisty absent-mindedly. His messenger bag swung slightly by his side as he walked. His aim today was to ask around and see if there was any part time jobs available anywhere. As he performed a one handed fan he grabbed the attention of a girl who was on her phone, stood outside of a restaurant. She was wearing a shirt that had the name of the branch sewed into the heart. As he stopped walking and returned a smile a sudden feeling hit him, much like the one he experienced yesterday in the woods. Rubbing his forehead he took a quick look inside the restaurant, it was packed full.

Turning back to the girl who must have been a waitress he began talking. "Hey, name's Adam, I'm guessing you work here?" he asked while shuffling his cards.

"I'm Lucy," she put her phone in her pocket out of politeness, "Yeah I pretty much just got this job. Why?"

Trying to ignore the slight buzzing in his mind that was getting stronger Adam carried on, "I was just if there are any more places available actually, I'm out today looking for a part time job." He shuffled his cards once again without looking.

"I think I took the last spot unfortunately," she looked at his hands shuffling his cards and then looked back up, "Sorry."

Adam wasn't surprised, there seemed to be a lack of any luck coming his way today as he'd been turned down everywhere he went. "It's fine, I'm sure I can go and work in the mines." he said jokingly. He noticed she took and interest in his cards and took the opportunity like he always would. "Would you like to see a trick?"

"Okay sure." she said with a smile.

Spreading out the cards Adam suppressed the weird feeling he had in his mind as his wrist started tingling. "Okay Lucy, pick a card, literally any card." after she grabbed a card he shuffled, "Now memorise that card for me." fanning the cards out he watched her put it back into the deck and saw as it protruded out of the back of the deck once he squared it up. Performing a cut he was happy her selected card had reached the top of the deck in such a small amount of time. Smiling as he performed a few false shuffles he thought up a new trick on the spot. As someone tried to get past the two he slid her card into his hand and gestured for them to move, placing the card in her pocket as he politely moved around her. After a few more shuffles he fanned the cards out and spoke. "Okay, do you see your card here?" he asked with a smirk.

"No it's not there." Lucy said as she looked at the cards.

"That's because you are looking in the wrong place, take a look in your left pocket." The smile on his face was huge now.

As she lifted out her selected card she put her hand over her mouth in awe. "How in the world did you-" she was cut off by the door opening beside her and another member of staff coming out.

"Lucy we needed you back in there five minutes ago, get inside and keep an eye on the time next time." he said sternly, giving Adam an agitated look.

As she gave him back the card she walked inside and the door closed, leaving Adam with the itching wrist and fuzzy feeling in his head. He turned slowly and watched his feet as he carried on walking down the road.

Star slumped back into her seat, her short stature being almost consumed by the huge booth seats. Star sat staring at her glass, and a half eaten piece of pizza on her plate, trying to process what Troy had just said. If it was true that these people were hunting them down, then they needed to leave Lakeside. She had lived here for awhile, surely there would be some records on her by now. She would have to leave everything behind... A frown slipped across her face.

However her thinking was cut short as a tingly feeling spread across the back of her neck, the same feeling she felt around Troy. Someone else was here. One of the Four. Star turned in her seat, glancing around the room, her eyes finally finding the red haired girl who use entered. She looked a little torn up, and muddy. Star could see the mud that soaked her shoes and bottoms of her pants, and there was a streak of mud on her face that she didn't seem to have seen. Star immediately knew that this was Number Four. Troy confirmed what she was thinking. What could Number Four do? Shoot lasers from her eyes? Breath underwater? Lift things five times her weight?

Star was pondering this when a sudden thought struck into her mind. Star turned back to Troy. "Wait, you overheard someone think about this stuff? So you are a mindreader?" She asked. Then she did what anybody else would do in her position. She practically screamed her thoughts, forming a sentence with her thoughts, trying to test this. she thought "If you really can read my mind, then tell me something only I would know." Star almost felt silly doing this. How could somebody possibly know what she is thinking right now? A realization hit her. Embarrassed, Star blushed, recalling everything she had every thought near him. About his eyes.... Star squeezed her eyes shut. He was likely reading her mind right now. Star's face went bright red and she looked down at her pizza again.

Spitfire, completely silent, as she waited for her food. ONe of the servers came to her with a small mini pizza. The cheese oozed over the crusts, the smell reaching her nose. Her mouth watered. She hadn't realized how hungry she was. Devouring the pizza in only a few minutes, she wiped off the oil dripping down her chin. Her stomach still rumbled. Spitfire laid some money down, including a tip and ran into the bathroom. She stood at the mirror, grimacing at her mud-covered clothes and the streak on her face.

Spitfire grabbed a paper towel and scrubbed at her face, the dirt crumbling into the sink below her. She looked around, then decided that her hair was too ratty to leave unwashed. She turned on the hottest setting of water. If she was going to deal with any water, it would have be as hot as possible. Her hair slowly weighed down with the weight of the water. She smiled as her scalp felt cleaner by the second.

Spitfire grabbed her soaking hair as she turned the water off. She crouched under the hand-dryers, her hair moving around. Once it was dry, Spitfire, feeling hot in the hoodie, took it off and examined herself. Her tank top was mainly clean, expect for a small dash of mud on the lace. Grimacing, Spitfire moved her hair to cover it. She stared at the ruby ring on her middle finger. Out of habit, she twisted the gem, revealing the small blade that Cyrus had built in her favorite ring. Twisting it back on, she walked out and back to her table to make sure the waitress got her money. She did. Spitfire walked towards the door.

Star finished her pizza, watching as the muddied redhead, Elizabeth, Troy had said was her name, tear through a mini pizza. It looked as if she hadn't eaten in days. For all Star knew, she hadn't. Homeless maybe? Or just having a rough day? It didn't seem like she was homeless, she just looked a little muddy. However, the way she ate the pizza was disgusting, and Star turned back to the table, peering out the window to see if she could spot Troy. she didn't so she picked up her drink and took a sip before turning back around to see if the redhead was still there.

Star turned her head from side to side, looking around. Elizabeth was gone. Star stood up suddenly, panicked she had lost her. However, a streak of red hair caught the corner of her eye. Star turned to see the redhead disappear into the bathroom. Star took a deep breath and set back down. Looking at where Elizabeth had sat, she noticed money on the table, which meant she would be leaving. Star thought fast, thinking of some sort of reason why Elizabeth shouldn't leave. Troy had asked her to keep her here, so Star would. Star smiled, and idea occurring to her.

Nobody was paying attention to her, so, she dropped her fork under the table intentionally. Ducking down, she shape shifted fast, it was painful to shape shift faster than normal, but she didn't have much of a choice. When she bent back upright, clutching her fork, she was the spitting image of Troy. Catching Elizabeth in his sight again, he stood up, and crossed the room, blocking Elizabeth's pathway to the door. What would she say? What would Troy say? Clearing her.. uh, his... throat, she/he finally came up with something. "Um, I hate to be intrusive, but can I talk to you for a second?" she said with an exact impersonation of Troy

Star motioned to the seat she was sitting at, a couple pieces of the pizza Troy and her were sharing early sitting on the table. Star sat down where she was sitting earlier, hoping Elizabeth sat down too.

Spitfire eyed the pizza, her mouth watering. Of course, she wasn't an idiot. There was no way she was going to sit down with a complete stranger. But, he did have food. Spitfire was silent for a few moments, before deciding to question him first. For all she knew, he could be part of the government. She straightened up, trying to seem tough. Crossing her arms under her chest, she scowled.

"Why?" She asked, biting on the insides on her cheeks. "If you think I'm someone else, than you must be mistaken. I haven't seen you anywhere," Spitfire tried her best to seem confident. She awkwardly leaned her all her weight on her left leg. It was a bit painful, but she'd spare anything to look more brave than anything she could handle. Now that she was legally homeless, she had to stay stronger then before, and be more cautious. Anyone could find her, and if they found out what she could do, then she was screwed.

She surveyed the man once again. It was the guy that she had seen before with the other woman. But where was she? And why did the man's eyes seem different? She did another quick look-over before she squinted, and saw the top of a two peeking out from his shirt, but only the top.

The corners of Spitfire's mouth curled up in amusement. Lowering her voice, she stared at the man. "Alright number 2, fine. What the hell do you need to talk to me about that's oh so important?" She asked.

By now the restaurant was practically deserted. It wasn't a very busy day, and it was past the normal lunch time. One of the waitresses was probably out back smoking, and the only other waiter was in the kitchen talking to the cook, the sound of them talking coming through the kitchen doors. Star smiled, perfect.

"Quite the clever girl you are, Number 4. Elizabeth I should say?" Star said, taking the chance to shape shift into the exact image of Number 4. It always helped if Star shape shifted into someone she just meets because then she will most likely never forget what they look like. Its just part of her brain. "What gave me away? The eyes? I've tried so many times to change my eye color but it never works." Star sat back down at her table, not bothering to see if Number 4 followed. Like it even mattered. Star had put a force-feild up over the door as a worst-case scenario option. "Troy just wanted me to keep you here to talk to you while he went off chasing after Number 3."
Elizabeth took a sip of her water, and another glance out the window, trying to see if Troy had come back yet, but it didn't appear so.

"So how does everybody know about The Four except me? I knew I was different but I never knew there were others..."

---

"And you're sure this is recent?"
"This image is within 48 hours, sir."

A man in uniform peered at a T.V. screen, transfixed in the short video playing. It was of what appeared to be a junkyard up in Lakeside, with flames appearing from thin air, and a figure moving around. It was as if the person was lighting stuff on fire. The man frowned and looked over to his underling, who had gotten the clip off of a video surveillance from a helicopter that was assigned to that area of Ohio.

"And are you sure that wasn't a worker burning material to create more room in the junkyard? Either way it's highly illegal. There could be toxins in materials released by burning them."
"I checked, but no workers are scheduled to be there at that time, sir."
"It could just be some idiot with a flamethrower."
"The irregular fire and how they are create don't look like they are from a flamethrower, sir."

"Send a squad of officers to scout out Lakeside, checking for more unusual activity. Post them everywhere. I want two helicopters searching at all times. And keep more troops ready for action in case something happens."
"Is this overreacting, sir?"
"No, one of The Four has pyrokinetic capabilities. We are not taking any chances."

Spitfire made a quick run for her table and grabbed her water glass, than sat down. She took a sip. "Quite the clever girl you are, Number 4. Elizabeth I should say?" Spitfire choked on her water, then swallowed it uneasily. "Yeah.... no. I haven't been called that in forever. I go by Spitfire, thank you very much," She grinned as she watched Number 2 shape shift into herself. "Wow, I really do look good!" She replied, flipping her hair jokingly. "What gave me away? The eyes? I've tried so many times to change my eye color but it never works." "Nope, although I thought that was strange. Actually, your number's showing," Spitfire commented, pointing to the two showing through the lace in her shirt.

"So how does everybody know about The Four except me? I knew I was different but I never knew there were others..."
Spitfire smiled. "Well, once my brothers found out, they went all stalker and did their homework," Spitfire replied. "Y'know, I knew you could shape shift, but this is just too cool!" Spitfire mentally hit herself for sounding like a teenager. She stood up, grinning. "But I bet you that I'm much, much cooler then that! And don't ask until you see, I find that people learn better if they see than to hear," She grinned again. She just couldn't resist being a show-off, it was just here.

"Besides, Troy or whoever is probably going to take forever! Might as well do something!" She added, making sure Number Two didn't argue. Without taking an answer, Spitfire grabbed Number Two by the arm, dragging her along. "By the way, what would you like to be called? I don't want to refer to you as Number Two, my brothers sadly were too lazy to figure out your names,"

Star glanced anxiously out the window, hoping Troy would come back already. He didn't so Star sighed and let Spitfire drag her out of the restaurant, putting money on the table before she did. Star didn't really have much choice. Spitfire was literally dragging her out the door. Strong grip? Star was curious as to what Number four could do.

"By the way, what would you like to be called? I don't want to refer to you as Number Two, my brothers sadly were too lazy to figure out your names," Star got her footing and walked beside Spitfire, following wherever she was going. "My name is Elizabeth Starling. But I go by Star. Sorry if that sounds conceited... my mom used to call me that as a kid and it sort of stuck." Star studied Spitfire, now that she could see her up close. It almost looked like she took a shower in the bathroom... maybe she did. "Hey, um... are you ok?" She asked, a little concerned why Spitfire was in such a rough shape when she came in. Maybe it was nothing. Or maybe not. "And where are we going?"

---

The FBI agent rose from his car, like an ominous figure springing forth from the grave. The sun glinted off of his sunglasses and the heat beat down on his newly pressed black suit. His car shone in the sun, casting reflections onto the sidewalk. Before him was Gigliano's Bar, which appeared to be an italian restaurant. It was one of the multiple stops on his list of popular places in Lakeside. Lakeside wasn't very big, it had a pier, a small movie theatre, Five big restaurants, a grocery store, a dump a mile away from the very populated area and 'The Lakeside Strip' which had several tiny cafes, bookstores, and souvenir shops tucked into one street, each store no bigger than the last. Everything else were a couple miles away, outside Lakeside.

The FBI took out his list again, double checking and crossing off where he just was: the dump. he had set up a couple of surveillance cameras and positioned a couple people there for extra security. Now he was onto Gigliano's Bar. The bell jingled as he walked in, and a waitress stuck her head through a door to see who was there. A puzzled look crossed her face, and she called out "Be right with you," before her head disappeared again. She reappeared again with another woman. The woman appeared to be the manager. She walked over and greeted him "Can I help you?"

"Yes, I'm part of the FBI," he said, pulling out his badge. "I'm doing a regular mandatory evaluation of the safety and security of Lakeside. I'm collecting surveillance video's from all major businesses and putting up some in places that don't. This is just for the protection of Lakeside and the people that inhabit it. The police have sent in a couple reports of robbed businesses outside Lakeside and we want to ensure nothing happens here. If you notice anything strange going on, please contact me," he finished, pulling out a card with his number on it and handing it to her.

"Thank you. It's good to know people are invested in the safety of Lakeside. We only have two cameras. One behind the bar, and one in that corner," She said, pointed to a camera that overlooked most of the tables, including a table that had yet to be cleaned off. It still had a couple of slices of pizza left on the tray. "I'll be back in one minute with the video" said. She reemerged a little while later with a flash drive in hand. "This has all the video from the past month. I put the past week in a different file if you are only concerned with recent events. If you need anything more, I'd be happy to give it," said.

The FBI left, flash drive in hand, putting it in an envelope with four others. He should have all video surveillance looked over tonight.

Spitfire walked along. "My name is Elizabeth Starling. But I go by Star. Sorry if that sounds conceited... my mom used to call me that as a kid and it sort of stuck." Spitfire shrugged, a smile growing. "Don't worry, I was named after my favorite superhero as a kid, maybe because I set my foster family's house on fire. Wonderful times," Spitfire joked, trying to lighten the mood as she tightened her grip a small bit on Star's wrist. "Hey, um... are you ok?" Star asked. "Huh? Um.. yeah! Sure, why would you think otherwise?" The words flew out of Spitfire's mouth faster then she meant to have them. She sounded nervous. "And where are we going?" Spitfire grinned. "Why should I tell you? Fine, I will anyway, just cuz. We're going to a... wait for it... a junkyard! So amazing, I know," Spitfire joked.


"Hey! Wait!" Spitfire turned around as she let Star's hand go, doing a quick once-over on the man. It was the man that Star was with, and the man she had shape-shifted into. "Going somewhere?" Spitfire opened her mouth to speak, but was cut off by his next words. "Lizzie, Number Four. You're a pyrokinetic correct? That's kinda a branch of what I am I guess." "Ugh, why does everyone think my name is Lizzie or Elizabeth? I DO NOT want to be called that!" She stomped her foot, completely ignoring the second part of his sentence. She lifted her foot up, biting her lip as she saw the large foot shaped indent in the ground.

She cursed under her breath, clenching her fists. She didn't know why she was so angry. Maybe it was the fact that she was kicked out, but something had made her more irritable than usual. She bit her lip hard, only to taste blood. Spitfire released her teeth from her lip, putting her hand over her bleeding lip. "Ugh!" She lifted her foot from the hole in the ground, shaking the concrete pieces off her shoe. She crossed her arms, scowling.

"I guess I could chase you around the city but I'm not really going to." Spitfire stayed silent. "I think you get the importance of us staying together at this point." Spitfire shook her head. "I don't," She said, defiant. "I'd like to clue you in but - that's up to you. You can leave in defiance but I think, no I know, we're stronger together then we are apart, as cliche as that might sound."
Spitfire rolled her eyes. Could this guy get any more movie-like? "If you wanna go somewhere else to talk versus staying here, fine. Name the place, I'll drive. But I think we should all talk now that we've all found each other." Spitfire frowned. "Whatever," She muttered. "Ummm.... Ridgefield junkyard. That's where I go," She suggested.