Slowly but surely a never ceasing group of grey, ghostly figures moves through the city, always moving somewhat towards the Protectorate HQ. The group seems to be centered around a rundown, dirty looking girl in her teens with an Animal-Skull Mask over her Face and a rust red Parka. She looks tired and battered, but not immediately hurt, more like she hasn't slept or showered in Days. Every step of her is one bringing her closer to the Protectorate Headquarters, but now she is on the open street instead of keeping to backalleys, maybe someone will want to talk to here. It always looks weird when suddenly there is a cape at the door.

Shepherd looks to Walker, smiling a tired smile. "No rest for the wicked. I do earn money, I just don't have a place to live." She then continues to walk away, consistently surrounded by a flock of Ghosts.

Shepherd thinks for a few seconds and then shrugs. "In that case I will see you later."

She takes out an envelope, taking 2 100$ Bills out of it and hands them to Walker.

"Don't spend it all at once!"

She then wanders off, her ghosts lazily trailing behind her.

"Going the Silent route is harder, no quips, people treat you like a hatman... I don't think it is for everyone. "

He takes his final bite on his burrito.

"Anything else? Don't want to seem rushed, but there is much to do and I don't want to keep you from your life alltoomuch."

He taps an imaginary watch. Of maybe it's just invisible, who knows.

"You know, don't tease me for the speaking part, I usually don't talk around cape business, but ever tried to tell someone they are not supposed to be afraid by writing a note. Doesn't work, and since I talked in your vicinity on accident anyways, why keep the Mute Mime charade up longer than needed. I prefer you don't tell people I talk much, although i am sure someone saw me talking before, but it's supposed to be rare, still."

Marceau smirks under his Mask.

"As for the second, prt related part, hard pass for now. I have enough trouble with Capes as is. I don't intend to interact with them more than explicitely necessary. Especially the PRT/Protectorate. They just make things complicated for me."

"I am, for now, as good as I can get. Everything else is... more complicated." She sighs, eyes tired under the Animal Skull Mask. "If you want you can come with, but I think it might suit both of us best if we go tomorrow or something. I need a burger and a pizza and a years worth of water!"

Marceau thinks for a second.

"In order of your questions... If you want to get on with the whole heroism thing under some sort of official approval you are somewhat expected to... Well Register is the wrong word, as far as I understand. You gotta get a meeting with the PRT/Protectorate, kind of tell them what you are able to do, in broad strokes. The Protectorate doesn't really 100% like vigilantes, who do not disclose such things, but as long as you stay out of their hair and don't cause all that many problems they sometimes, as with me, don't bother you all that much if you don't. I have not reached out to them, yet, might do so in the future, but I also don't really engage much with other capes, if possible and also only occasionally leave them or the police some presents with a signed note. They are aware of me being around, and probably want to have an extended talk with me, but nobody seems to have tried to force me to come in, yet."

He stops to take another bite.

"As for rules, there is the unwritten rules, which also still are kinda written, but nowhere in particular. They are roughly:

• Respect secret identities. Especially don't fuck with people's family.

• No violence or using powers in a meeting with multiple parties

  • Try not to use lethal force. Try not to maim people.
  • No widespread attacks against civilians. (Taking some hostages is 'okay', poisoning the water supply of the city is not.)
  • Don't enslave others with mind control.
  • No rape or sexual assault.
  • Don't use guns. If you absolutely must use a gun, be careful with it. They escalate and cause too much death.
  • When dealing with a major threat, a few additional rules take effect:
  1. Don't attack people who volunteer, set your beefs aside.
  2. Don't take advantage of the situation. Don't set people up to die. Even if you're not in the fight, don't use the situation to make major plays.
  3. Everyone gets medical care, regardless of what they've done.

  If people break the rules, anyone whose willing should work together to punish the rule breaker."

Another bite.

"I have fought a cape or two, probably more, to be fair, but always minor altercations. Generally the unwritten rules are how you go about that. Non-lethal, no maiming, don't do skeevy shit like mind control, although some human masters have been known to do such things still. Most important part for anyone without an actual damaging power, like blasters and such: don't use guns. Most people are not trained enough to use them, and guns are automatically lethal."

"Don't be afraid to insult me by stumbling over words. I don't want any trouble, I am looking for the Protectorate. Hoping that they are willing to take on someone homeless. And I came here, to Denver, because it far enough away so random idiots are not a threat to people in my life. So unless you feel the need to be a villain, you won't have anything to fear from me."

Shepherd, even though she looked awfully tired still, had a Strong spirited demeanour.

"And yes, Atlanta is quite a ways away, and if you never were there, all the better for you. My Flock doesn't usually hurt people unless they are supposed to, but when I get tired sometimes I lose sight of what is important. Thank you again for your help with getting a place to rest for a while. I had been on foot for a few days very focused to get here and must have gone too deep into my... reserves. If I manage to get a bit more rest over the next few weeks it should get better."

"You are a cape? Huh. Then again capes tend to attract each other, just by the fact that no sensible person goes near someone who is surrounded by spooky ghosts."

She chuckles. "I actually wasn't really reffering to you, as I was not aware you are one, but If your intention is to direct the problem away from others we already have kind of common ground. My whole reason why I am here is because my existence at home would endanger my family, and I can't have that. Not again."

She shivers for a short moment. "Ever been to Atlanta?"

"You gotta cater to what you can. You probably would look weird in a dive bar at shifts end, yeah, especially with being underage for drinking. I'm at the edge there, but I get you."

He grabs himself a second burrito, and wholeheartedly bites into it. After chewing a bit he smiles for a few seconds, clearly enjoying this, before he turns to PB again, his eyes now inquisitive. "So you wanted to learn more about the Heroism/Cape Business? How can I help you get answers. I have been a cape out of site for quite a while now, popping up all across america to find a place to stay, and I might stay here at least for a while, so ask away."

"Not a Cop, just know who to ask and when to listen. There's a Dive Bar close by this Precinct that gets occasionally visitors from the precinct, like a nice beer after your shift at work. And people start to get a little out of inside voice when they drink."

Marceau takes off his mask, revealing a domino mask in black and white. " Usually I don't eat in costume. So this is not my standard outfit."

"Capes don't normally end things peaceful. Capes tend to make things worse they are involved in."

Shepherd surrounded by her Spectres of different sizes, sighs deeply.

"If anyone here needs help I will try to help them as best as I can. Which is not much, but I hope you get the notion. I need to fix a few things before I can start my business here. Do you have a name?"

"I Don't know all that many. There is like a small scale villain called Starving Artist, but their Art is not all that great, Zipdash, and there seems to be another cape it seems, looks like a teen, blond hair, looked homeless. And then there is you. "

He shrugs. "As for the information on the police... asking pointed questions you know the answer to works wonders. Especially when nobody knows you are a cape."

"On a Scale from Hero to villain it usually is a good choice to stay in the middling parts, cause both ends of the spectrum, the extremes, usually end bad. In my experience at least." He puts his book go the side. "As for the police, I heard a bit of commotion about your entrance to the police, but they seemed more intrigued than anything else. Apart from the dangers a wall-ignoring cape can be they seemed interested in pursuing your lead. Also please don't ask about drtails, a Man can only listen in on police comms do much before it becomes suspicious."

He chuckles. "So..... did you bring the food?"

Marceau watches the Scene, securely hid behind a car. As the Girl that helped the police officer beforehand goes towards the Lady in Green he shakes head in disbelief. He was not lookinv for a fight, and this had the smell of one coming up, so he stood up, dtill hiding in a crouch behind the Car, and fucked off to brighter Pastures, writing down Intel onto his noteblock.

With Walker stepping up Shepherd looks at her, sizing up her 'Savior'. When she realises that her opposite is homeless too she immediately relaxes visibly, switching to a much less aggressive stance. The Ghosts now seem less aggrevated, and mostly hang out around her, but not obstructing Line of Sight between the two.

"Sorry. Didn't mean to be rude. Thank you for your... Compassion. My Name is Shepherd. As you might have guessed, these things around me are my Flock." She clears her throat, seemingly having not spoken that much in quite a while.

"Thank you for your Help. Can you help me get a place to stay or something. Somewhere I will not be immediately evicted from for being a Cape?"

Marceau looks up.

"Middling, but it's less atrocius than my last one. Omegaverse just doesn't cut it."

He gestures for her to get closer. "How you been doing? Anything interesting?"

He seems mainly bored.

After some time Shepherd opens their eyes. Immediately the Ghosts that spawn begin forming a defensive rings around Shepherd before she stumbles to her feet. "What the... where... who... how?"

The girl, definitely a teenager of sorts, looks around at their surroundings clocking every human person in the vicinity. "Why am I here?" There is a streesed undertone in her voice, But she still looks and sounds immensely tired.

Marceau seemingly does not react, reaches below his chair and gets out a glass of ?lemonade?. He turns the page, puts the glass back again where it was. Just when he puts it down it becomes obvious that it is not a glass of lemonade, only the lemonade itself is visible, seemingly hovering above the floor.

Marceau hangs back behind the car, making him as hard to see as possible.

All the while Walker moves the nearly unconscious girl further spectres appear, some of them actually helping Walker to carry, some obstructing the transport, but overall most just wander aimlessly before they disperse.

There are words. Distant. Then Closer. Suddenly there is a woman. Why is there a woman.

The ghosts suddenly disperse, and a lone girl in her teens stands infront of Walker. Downtrodden clothes, an Animal Mask over her Face and a hoodie pulled over the head. All oc her clothes look at least somewhat well cared fof even if they are a little bit dirty right now. A large sledgehammer is tied to a harness on her back.

The girl looks around for a few seconds, and three words escape her before she collapses. "FoodWaterSleep"

As she collapses her power kicks in again, but the ghosts seem less focused, just wandering out into a random direction before collapsing in on themselves.

The Ghosts seem to have a physical component to them, some of the picking up stuff, just to disperse into nothingness again.

When Walker approaches the supposed location of the sighting the first thing out of place would be a mob of people, bunched up, walking along the sidewalk, writhing around a centerpoint that is mostly obscured. The people look strange, a little desaturated, and occasionally they seem to disintegrate into a thin smoke or something, just to be replaced by another body from inside the mob. The whole group seems to consist of 15 to 20 individuals.

As the group slowly meanders forwards, towards downtown, it would become more and more clear that these are not real people, more like... ghosts?

Occasionally glimpses of a dark Hoodie or a pair of horns could be seen from the middle of the group, and the overall speed of it seems to be less than 2 mph. The mob slowly noves towards Walkers position, actually keeping a bit out of her way, getting closer to the cities center.

One step infront of the other. Every single one closer to a destination. What destination? Shepherd could not tell anymore. She had been walking for 2 days straight, little drink or food to have, leagues less than anyother non-cape would have needed. But now she was here, Denver. A new Start....

"DPD Inquiry, Cape spotted entering Aurora westbound, multiple Ghostlike appearances Spotted surround seemingly distraught individual. Residents are to be informed of Master moving towards downtown and are to remain indoors for the near future until all clear can be given."

Shepherd mind was not racing anymore, like usually. It was becoming goo, slow, methodical. Step... Gotta find a place to sleep.

Step... 2 more days of fasting survivable

Step... Another day of water left

Step... just a short nap... NO

Step... Step... Step

An hour later a Mime hangs out on one of the rooftops near Fletcher Park, waiting for the other cape to appear. Marceau sits on a lawnchair that inhabitants of this place must have dragged to the rooftop for chill parties, and is seemingly reading a Book, lounging.

Marceau, now far enough out of the line of fire, relaces visibly and wanders over to the Cop car, suddenly twirling a litte stick of a foot length with white tips on each side. A wand? He gets behind the car keeping an eye on the seemingly homeless woman and watches the show.

There is a long groan of disappointment, followed by shuffling on the other side of the Phone, before a less... troubled tone takes over. "I mean, I got a bit of experience, being a cape for a few years now. Got any special place you wanna meet or should we do... Los Cuates near Fletcher Park? I could get us some food and we meet on the roof nearby? That way the Mime doesn't need to be seen getting Tacos."

There is a short chuckle before there is a loud thud and some swearing.

"You can be the best mime, the biggest enemy is still bending over under the sink and then hitting your head."

Marceau wakes up to the sound of "For Elise" in a bad midi version, being the calling tone for his loud cellphone. Drowsy still he crawls over to his Nightstand and picks up.

"Marceau's Detective Service, the Pleasure is Mime.

Who am I speaking to?"

Marceau facepalms. He then takes a few steps back, expecting some sort of altercation to break out soon.

He almost steps out of the trajectory of the Protectorate cape that just arrived, towards the poloce officer, in hopes to not be majorly involved in the ensuing shenanigans

"Then shoo shoo, off to bed you go. Don't want to be late for school, do you? You can call me when you have time."

He has an amused tone to his voice, seemingly enjoying the banter.

"If you need anything, you gog my number."

With that he theatrically bows.

"Toodeloo!"

He turns around seemingly about to walk away.

Just as PB leaves the wall something hard brushes up against her, immediately breaking contact as it touches her.

The mime turns towards her, mask unmoving as ever.

"Didn't expect you to pop out there. Nearly scared me!"

He chuckles, unaware that that was the intention.

"You know how to contact me, given that you have my card."

He extends his arm, once again materialising a Business card out of thin air.

"Be careful not to get caught tonight."

His Masks Smile is everlasting, but you get the feeling he actually means it.

"See you soon, I guess."

Marceau just stands there dumbfounded.

"Your power looks really useful..."

He sighs. Do you think you can reach the place you are looking to reach within a minute? Actually that wouldn't do all that much. I'll just wait here, and how do you feel about something to eat afterwards? I am hungry and I think you can explain a few things about why these guys are so close to your heart. Or you don't want to, in which case imma just eat by myself again." He shrugs. "See you in a minute?"

"Well, sounds good so far, planning wise. Do you know whst actually is behind this wall?"

The Mime seems to ponder for a second. "Because you don't want to end up in a room full of Policemen..."

"Yes, I need to touch things to turn them visible, but I won't bore you with details. You wanted to plant some evidence?"

He smiles under his mask.

"If you want to hide it, I might be helpful, but I can't keep it invisible for more than a minute. Do you know where you want to plant it?"

He suddenly seems much more game than before.

Marceau visibly recoils as the New Cape in Orange lands, even jumping away a bit. The note pad stays in their hand, and they look around between all involved.

As SA makes their point Marceau ponders the words. Another Page of NotePad now shows "They are not completely wrong... at least on the point of weapons pointed at Capes."

Marceau's Eyes wander over to the Woman hiding in the background, somewhat unsure of how to handle their presence.

"Listen, I understand you. If you need help, I can try to help with this in a way outside of the law, because frankly, I am not someone who does things by the book. My power is good in under the hand business." He looks up and down the alley.

"I can turn things invisible."

"I could beat them up, but would that solve or just expedite the problem? I don't see you, a cape, doing more than me, and my power is not made for sweeping actions."

His voice is raised now.

"I have to deal with these powers all day long, there is no off switch, so I try to fo some good, but beating up unpowered teenagers wouldn't mske me a hero. Sure I can cuff them up in a tree for police to find, but I have a higher chance to just be bonked on the head and drowned in a nearby ditch."

Marceau visibly recoils at the mention of him taking the case.

"Listen, I am a low tier hero with a shitty power. I am less well equipped to handle a whole gang of people than the police. I am just a guy."

He looks around unsure of what to do.

"Keep the folder or don't, but I am the wrong person for the job. I have no friends in town, no help or support. I just try to survive out here!"

Marceau steps a few steps backwards, as if giving the other cape space.

"Small time hero. Haven't gotten much big picture and to be honest I like to stay out of the limelight as much as possible."

He shrugs.

"I do work as a detective occasionally. Finding things, investigating cheating spouses, the usual PI thing."

He hold up his hands, grabbing what seems to be air, and a business card appears. He hold it out, arm out reached by still good 10-15ft away.

The Mime visibly ponders for a few seconds before visibly making a decision. "Doesn't matter anyhow now, that you hear me speak. Name is Marceau. Like the Actress... And the Mime." His voice is that of someone beyond their teens, maybe early 20s, with a notable accent of french intonation. He shrugs, the extends a gloved hand towards the woman. "Pleasure to meet you. Like I said It was not my intention to startle you." He looks at the folder on the floor, without moving closer. "You seem to have dropped something..."

"Oyoyoy! That looked like it hurt a lot!"

The mime keeps his distance, mostly keeping their eyes focused on the other cape. "I am dorry if I startled you. I was... hangingout here, but then you came closer and I was getting scared you might attack me or something if I made myself known later."

Only then he realises that he spoke, and he slaps his hands over his mouth.

"WHOA THERE! Do not be Afraid!" Marceau jumps up, realising to late that jumpscaring a Cape behind a Police-Station might not be the wisest of choices. "I mean no harm." He lifts his hands as if Surrendering, showing his hands are empty except for a notebook, even if he already has a few weapons readied in case he needs them.

What is visible is a Mime, White Gloved and with the classic black-and white striped shirt, holding a notebook in one of his hands. "Please don't send me to the Shadow-Realm!"

"God, thats soooo cool." A slight mutter can be heard from behind the Dumpsters. Then the upper parts of Marceaus Mime Mask peek out, as well as the Beret he is wearing. He continues to observe, absentmindedly scribbling on a paghe of his notebook, sketching the other cape. The sketch is not good, but still kinda gets the general appearance right.

With the onsetting darkness it is hard to see the black and white costume Marceau wears, the colours blending a little bit into the surroundings.

They observe, eyes roving over the police station, mostly waiting for something interesting to happen, when a dash of movement grabs their attention, moving towards them.

Marceau slinks even further into the shadows, ducking behind a Dumpster, careful to not have his weaponry collide with his surroundings. He cowers there, looking for a reason why anybody would dart around the police station at this time of night.

The mime looks between the officer, who seems to have been dragged towards their car by now, and the Artist in front of them.

He doesn't want to talk here, not with that many unknown pieces on the board so he just shrugs and takes out a little notebook and pen from a little pouch on his Belt. He flips a few Pages until he finds what he is looking for, showing it to the Artist. "Marceau" With his offhand he points to himself. Then he tilts his head, looks through the notebook again and produces another page, while now pointing at the "Art" behind the woman in front of them. The notebook just says "Not very Good"

From the other direction a black white and red Silhouette walks closer.

As their steps carry them closer to the Mural it becomes clear that this seems to be a Mime, carrying a red Umbrella in their Hand, shielding them against the Sun. When they are close enought they look at the Mural, at the frog coloured individual painting it and at the Woman in the distance tending to a seemingly unconscious individual.

They hang the Umbrella onto their arm, where it immediately disappears into thin air, and coughs once, as if to get the attention of the black-and-lime coloured individual.

The mime does not appear hostile, more intrigued, but their Mask doesn't give much away.

We'll se how this goooooooooooeesssss