San Francisco, California, April 13th, 12:00.

Hovering high in the air, Poe looks out over the bay. Specifically, the bay where his city used to be. So much work, a decade of effort, and it was all wiped away in one day.

It's been nearly two months already, but Poe is still struggling to get over it. More often than not, he finds himself here, just staring uselessly at the reminder of what he lost.

He's had to fight with all his will just to stop himself from simply retiring. But there is still work to be done. The entire bay area suffered from that day, and recovery is still ongoing, even with parahuman help.

Clearing rubble is the easiest part, especially with him there to do it, but rebuilding everything that was lost, fixing the roads and the pipes and such. That doesn't happen over night.

Cutting himself off from his rumination, Poe notices another source of gravity approaching his location, and turns in time to greet an old friend, Narwhal.

"Poe." She nods in greeting, coming to a stop by his side and looking out over the bay with him for a long moment. "Have you decided what you are going to do yet?"

He doesn't answer right away, thinking on her proposition. 

She'd asked him if he planned to retire, or maybe just move across the bay to San Francisco, or, if he would go back to working with her.

She is technically his Boss, after all. Being that she is the Leader of The Guild. But they are friends even before that, so he knows that she'll respect his decision, whatever it is.

"I don't know." He eventually decides. "I don't really feel like I can dedicate myself to something like that again." There is a pause, understanding. "But at the same time, I don't want to do nothing. Just... let me know if anything comes up, emergencies and the like. We'll see about it then?"

Narwhal lets out a huff. "'Cross that bridge when we get to it', huh?"

He just gives her a one armed shrug, knowing that she doesn't really get the idea of not wanting to be prepared for everything ahead of time. Just a different way of thinking.

"What about you?" He eventually asks after another pause, making her look to him for clarification. "How are you feeling?"

From the way her arm makes an aborted gesture for her leg, he knows she got his meaning, as well as the brief grimace that passes her face.

"Better than the other two, at least." Is her response, grim amusement in her tone that doesn't hide the deeper feelings beneath it.

Poe shakes his head mournfully at the answer. "And how are they?"

Shrugging once, Narwhal acts aloof, and Poe doesn't call her out on it. "Chevalier got some healing, but he was too burnt up for it to work properly. He's mostly in good health, just now he's also in pretty much constant pain. They've got him on Vicodin for now. As for Rime, she's still sleeping. Her organs got all fucked up, so they don't know if she's gonna wake up any time soon, but they're hopeful."

They descend into sombre silence once more, simply staring out at the sea, contemplating. Until Poe notices that Narwhal is being twitchy. Glancing at him, opening her mouth slightly but not saying anything. He figures that there's something else, but she's hesitant to say it.

Eventually, he just gives her a look, and she sighs, her shoulders untensing.

"There is a... potential option."

"What is it? Surely anything that could help them would be good, no?"

"No. Not quite." She takes another breath, and looks him right in the eyes. "They reached out to The Protectorate. Offered healing, mainly for Rime and Chevalier, but open to others too."

"They?" Poe asks, even though he already knows the answer. "Who's 'They'?"

She looks at him for a moment, and can tell he just needs her to say it. 

"The Clowns."

Poe's fists clench, and the sea beneath them starts rippling and crashing against itself, rising into the air as the rules of gravity twist and turn.

It only lasts for a moment though, before Poe regains himself and calms down.

"The Clowns." He repeats, voice flat.

"Yes. They said that we were just doing our jobs, and that there's no hard feelings on their part, asking that we understand that Her actions were her own."

"'No hard feelings'. No. Hard. Feelings?"

"They claim it's a show of sincerity. Using the positive rep of Negante as a counterweight to the negative rep of Her."

Another pause, as Narwhal waits for Poe to process.

"...Why are you telling me this?" He eventually asks, and there's another pause as Narwhal simply looks him in the eye for a long moment, eventually just turning back to the sea as she answers.

"We don't trust them. Obviously. But we're in favour of agreeing right now, just so long as the two of them get escorted by one of us at least."

"I see. You want me to go with them, to make sure they don't pull any tricks on us? How likely do you think that is to happen?"

"It would be a violation of the rules to do so."

Her answer gets a scoff in return. "Like they give a shit about rules. You know what they did in Florida."

"Point." Narwhal admits with a nod of the head. "But yeah, I don't think they're bullshitting us. We all know why She did what She did. Grief can make a fool out of anyone. Doesn't make any of it excusable, but it is at least understandable."

"Your point?"

"My point, is that it is just like they said. They hold no hard feelings for us, and this is just more politics. They want to trade some healing for some goodwill, that's nothing new."

"Is that all they want though? Goodwill? Healing powers are incredibly rare, I don't believe that they wouldn't ask for more."

"Truthfully, I don't know." She admits, getting a raised brow from Poe, not that she can see it under his helmet. "I've not been privy to their talks. Far as I know, it's only really Alexandria and Legend that know the details, and they don't seem to want to share."

There is a reason that The Guild, while still technically connected tot he Protectorate, is separate from it entirely.

The PRT likes their secrets, even if they are terrible at keeping any of them, and the Protectorate isn't much better. The Guild is much more honest. Kind of hard not to be when Dragon is on your team.

Girl couldn't figure out how to tell a lie if it killed her.

After another short moment, Poe simply lets out a sigh. "Fine, give me a time and location. I'll be there."

"Good."

---

Brockton Bay, New Jersey, April 15th, 21:03.

Sitting in her penthouse suite on the top of her new headquarters, Gabriella Vargas takes a sip from her expensive wine and looks over her view of Brockton Bay.

If she were to be brutally honest, this city is a shithole. Certainly the worst she's seen, and she's been to Chicago.

The city can be roughly divided into four section. There's the PRT's territory, where everything is clean, clear of trash and gang tags, and everyone is more or less safe. That's where the Heroes do most of their patrols, the Wards especially.

Then there are the gangs, who control a much large area of the city. Thankfully, they are kind enough to graffiti their tags everywhere they go, so at the very least it is not too difficult to avoid heading into dangerous territory. 

that said, a vast majority of the populous lives in those tagged areas, generally segregated by race.

White people live in Empire territory, which is about as safe, if not actually better than PRT territory, for white people only, of course. Asian people live in ABB territory, further segregated by what flavour of Asian they are.

Then the blacks, and anyone who either doesn't fit in with those two, or have some other reason to avoid living there, are split between the well off, who live in PRT territory, and the less well off, who live in unclaimed territory.

Well, she says unclaimed, but that's not entirely true. There are a couple of smaller gangs right now fighting for territory, and either one of them will come out on top and become a fourth force in the city, standing if not equal, then at least close enough to the Empire, ABB and PRT.

Or, the bigger gangs will simply crush them all on the way to each other. Though, if she recalls correctly, one of the smaller gangs, an old name, one that has never really been that successful, seems to be looking like they're going to win.

She would honestly prefer if they don't though. The Archer's Bridge Merchants are hardly a respectable group, and she's been using what would become their territory to get cheap, hardworking labour.

If the Merchants take over and consolidate the area, then drugs will flood the street, and suddenly there will be a whole lot less competent labourers looking for work.

Setting her glass down, she lets out a small smile. She's sure it will work out well enough. There are plenty of ways to deal with problems like this, so she's not overly worried about it.

In fact, her main worry in regards to Brockton, is Coil. Supposedly a Villain, but no one knows anything about it. Powers. Motives. Nothing.

She doesn't like such an unknown operating in a city that she is interested in. Especially when she is not the only one interested in it.

As if on cue, the door to her suite opens, and she looks over to see her awaited guest, wearing the same long black jacket as when they first met, buckles and all.

"I'm sorry I'm late," he says with good humour as he walks in, closing the door behind himself, "your security was, understandably, hesitant to take me at my word."

Reaching the table she had set up, John takes off his mask with one hand, the other taking hold of Gabriella's chin, allowing him to lean in, and plant a chaste kiss on her lips.

"I hope you haven't been waiting long?"

"Four minutes and eight seconds~. It's rude to keep a lady waiting you know?"

Returning her teasing with a smirk of his own, John sits down opposite her. "I'll make it up to you."

"And I'll hold you to that."

"Let's see if we can get through dinner first, we can do all the 'holding' you want after~."

Chuckling slightly at his flirting, she reaches forward and takes the cloche, a metal dome-like covering for food, off of her plate, an action mirrored by John.

Looking at the plate prepared, John can't help but laugh a little.

"Dal baati churma, with a side of garlic prawns. My favourite meals. Well played, well played." Shaking his head, John stabs a prawn with his fork and brings it to his mouth, thinking back on their first meeting, where he prepared her favourite meal ahead of time. "Though I've got to ask, how the hell did you find out?"

Smirking at him, Gabriella tears off a piece of naan bread, and dips it in her tomato soup, mirroring their first meeting even further by having the same meal he did, though with some extra, because she does actually want to have a nice meal.

"come now John. A lady has to have her secrets~."

"Of course she does." John responds pleasantly. "Speaking of secrets though, have you heard any interesting ones recently?"

"Particularly pertaining to the two new Heroes in the Bay, both of whom happen to have crossed paths with a certain 'friend' of yours, by any chance?"

"Maybe." John says, with a tone that all but screams 'yes'. "Same as usual? Information for information. I want to know to know what's up with them."

"Any particular reason?"

"Yeah, actually. Got a new job coming in from here. Want to keep my info up to date."

"A job?"

"Ah, ah~." John rebuts, putting a finger up in front of him. "That was valuable information right there. It's your turn."

With a fond, put upon sigh, Gabriella relents.

"You're lucky I like you."

---

A/N: He~llo! Dear readers!

Well would you look at that, it seems like Ol' John has moved on pretty dang quickly, though to be fair he wasn't technically dating jinx when he died anyway.

Or maybe he's conning her, or maybe he isn't and I'm saying that as a red herring? Who knows~

Either way, the two of them have bonded over having similar powers, though there are differences that were supposed to be explored this chapter, but didn't because fuck me, I guess.

It's hardly important. Last chap next chap :3