Summer in northern, coastal California is remarkably pleasant. Even the hottest days at the peak of summer don't hit 80. It's a nice change from LA, where 90 degrees plus is a common occurrence in the summer months. Though Crusade's pretty sure she could be in 50 degree weather and still be uncomfortably hot in this new armor.

A couple of days after getting her armor literally cut off of her, Crusade went to get a replacement. The owner of the shop she went to for armor recognized her and was astonished she needed something new already. She recommended a new line that just came out that's specially made to be stab and bullet resistant. Not quite as strong as Kevlar, a bullet could still get through, but it isn't a one and done. Still feeling the ache where Umbridge's claws pierced into her, it didn't take much convincing to get her to buy it despite the higher price tag. Leather isn't exactly the most breathable material to start with, but this new armor is like walking around in a garbage bag it's so hot.

Granted, she has been sitting directly in the sun for the last few hours, but still. Crusade and Glade have been patrolling on and around the San Domenico University campus in Oceanview from rooftops. The sun's starting to set and college students are starting to head to parties and other things. There's been a definite uptick in the reported Beach Bums activity both on the boardwalk and at the university, so the whole team is out patrolling both locations tonight. From the reports Desperado acquired, not only are they dealing more, but they're coming down harder on the other dealers that have popped up since Sinner's arrest.

If the intel Jackass picked up is right, one of Sinner's distributors took the rest of the product the Triple Six dealer had stored and started moving it aggressively. Accounts of SUWBAC fueled mischief have been increasing on and around the campus. Naturally, the Beach Bums caught wind of it and have been trying to stamp it out. There are even rumors that the group is recruiting capes to try and deal with the new landscape.

It feels like things are shifting, in a state of flux. The city is still reeling from the debacle with Triple Six less than a week ago and with Sinner gone it feels like the Bums are trying to grow even though they're dealing with opposition. And, overshadowing all of it, what they know about Sinclair looms over them. The interrogations at the hospital didn't go as they hoped, so they're in a little bit of a holding pattern. Bruja has survived her injuries so far, but she's still in critical condition. Until she's stable, the DA is holding her in protective custody, with no interviews or deals. They still don't have any good choices on how to proceed, but they can't just sit on this forever. They have to do something soon or he'll just keep hunting vigilantes. They're caught in a damned if they do, damned if they don't scenario.

But in the meantime, dealing with the Beach Bums seems a whole lot simpler. The team decided that if they saw any dealing that wasn't related to the Beach Bums, they would confiscate the product and try to warn them off doing it again like they did last time. If they do see any of the Bums' powered enforcers, then they'll engage. Provided they actually find them. Crusade and her partner have been out here for hours, slowly making their way around the more popular spots, and haven't seen anything.

She looks at her watch and sighs. If she's honest with herself, it's probably a good thing they haven't run into any of the Beach Bums. She's still not feeling quite up to fighting shape yet. Her wounds are closed up thanks to the stitches she got and some time with Glade's soothers, but they were deep and it's going to take the muscles some time to repair. She'll have to be careful for a while and get back into things gradually. Of all the places to get injured, her shoulders and legs were not ideal.

She has a little bit of time left before she needs to go meet Prophet. She has everything set up for her, she just needs to help her get settled. The paranoid thinker insisted on meeting at night, so she's meeting her at 9.

Crusade pulls at the collar of her new armor, hoping to get a bit of ventilation. Glade looks over at her and chuckles. "Is it really that bad?"

She nods. "It's like a furnace in here. I'm sweating like crazy. Maybe I'll write a letter to the manufacturer, give them some 'feedback from the field' or something like that. There has to be a better way."

"Why don't you just get leather again?"

"That shit's expensive, and so was this. If it's an actual problem maybe I can try and trade it for a new leather set, but I'll try and make it work."

Glade shrugs and goes back to watching the teens down in the streets. Crusade glances around too, and spots a few college-age people with hats pulled down and jacket collars popped in an alley behind a bar. She taps Glade and points down to the alley. They exchange small somethings, looking around furtively. "Looks like a deal going down."

Her partner nods. "Let's go crash the party." The vine that's been laying inactive on the roof with them gets up and grabs onto the side of the building. It dangles and stretches down towards the ground, creating a makeshift ladder for Glade to climb down. He hooks around the building, approaching them from the right.

Crusade turns on her power armor, making sure to adjust for the little bit of extra bulk her new under-armor has. She runs on the air, barriers under her feet, over the buildings and down into the alley on the opposite side from where her partner approaches. As she lands on the dirty pavement, their quiet muttering stops and they turn. They land eyes on her and shout, clambering past each other to try and flee down the alley.

They don't get far, though. Glade and his vine round the corner, cutting the four of them off. They skid to a stop, the one in the back running into the other three. They look back and forth between the two capes blocking their escape. One puts his fists up, ready to fight.

She raises her empty hands. "Guys, we're not here to hurt you."

The agitated one scoffs. "Yeah? Then what'dya want?"

Glade takes a step forward, one hand extended towards the group. "We want you to hand over the drugs and quit being a bunch of idiots."

One in shorts and a polo with a popped collar looks nervous. "Drugs? We don't have any drugs. You can't prove anything."

Crusade rolls her eyes. "Sure, you're just exchanging answers to Monday's math test, right? Look, we saw everything. And normally I wouldn't care if some college kids are doing drugs. But the Beach Bums will certainly care when they find you, and they won't ask nicely. So, give us the product, go home, and quit dealing before you end up in the hospital."

They exchange glances, waiting to see if anyone's going to cave. A guy with a hoodie and jeans smacks his friend's arm. "Don't give them anything. They're not heroes, they can't arrest you. They're not Beach Bums or they would have kicked our asses by now. They're vigilantes, they can't do anything." He steps to the front of the group. "Piss off, lady. You don't scare us."

Crusade sighs. She was hoping they'd be smart enough to listen to reason. Guess they're done asking nicely. "You're right, we're vigilantes. But I think you're conflating the words can't and won't." She grows a long sword with a sinister looking curved point in one hand, letting it rest on the ground in front of her. The 20-somethings look at the sword, eyes wide. She makes her voice as stern and commanding as she can. "So, I'll tell you one more time. Give us the product and go home." She really hopes they do it. She's not going to hurt them, but she'd rather not have to have Glade grab them and search them.

The one in the hoodie stares her down for a moment then looks back at his buddies. Their shoulders are hunched and they look scared. The one who was ready to fight earlier shrugs. "It's not worth it dude." Eventually he nods in agreement and they all start emptying their pockets.

The one in the hoodie is obviously the dealer as he has the most on him. He's got a bunch of standard drugs, but he also has SUWBAC. Glade holds up the bag of vials. "Who sold you these?"

He stuffs his hands in his pockets and looks at the ground. "Some guy, friend of a friend. Don't know his name."

Crusade grabs his shoulder. "Is your friend also dealing? Cause if he is he's in danger too."

He huffs and jerks his shoulder out of her grasp. "Yeah, he is. I'll…I'll tell him to cool it."

She steps back with a small smile. "Good. Just keep out of it until the Beach Bums are off the streets. Then all you have to worry about is the cops and potentially going to jail the rest of your life instead of getting blinded or crippled."

Glade nods. "Or worse."

There's a chorus of whatever's as the four students wander away dejectedly. Crusade checks her watch again as Glade bags up the product they confiscated. "I gotta get going if I'm going to meet Prophet on time."

Glade tilts his head at her. "What happened to staying together? Earlier you told everyone we shouldn't be going out alone."

She rolls her eyes as she drops her armor. "Yeah I know, but this isn't patrol, though. I'm just helping someone get to a new apartment. Plus, she spooks pretty easily, she might freak out if I unexpectedly bring someone new."

"Yeah, and the interrogation at the hospital was supposed to be no big deal too." He shakes his head. "You're still injured and could get ambushed by whomever she thinks is after her. I'm going with you."

Crusade sighs. "Alright, point taken. Just, keep an open mind. She's…quirky." As they make their way to the car, she sends a quick text to Jackass and Desperado letting them know what happened.

Desperado texts back almost immediately. "Nothing here yet, going to stay a bit longer. See you at base tonight? Jackass is insisting on getting tacos."

She smiles as she sends back a message. "Make it tacos and margaritas and I'm there." The last week or so has been rough for everyone, but the tinker has had a tough time on a personal level too. She hasn't shared anything about the trial she's been following, and there hasn't been anything in the news yet, so it must still be going on. She's finally starting to socialize a little more again though, which is a good sign.

Jackass sends back a thumbs up, a winky face, and a sombrero. Guess that's a yes.

Glade and Crusade get to where they stashed their car just outside of the busy areas around campus. She hops in the passenger seat while Glade drives. She pulls up directions to the motel they're meeting Prophet at. Man, even just the little bit of walking they were doing is making her calves hurt. She really needs to figure out how to help them get back to normal faster. Massage, exercise, soaking, something's gotta help.

She leans her head back on the headrest and sighs, looking over at Glade. "What have you been working on at the paper lately? You've been super busy the last couple of weeks."

He nods. "One of the things I noticed when we got to town was how anti-vigilante the media is. Now that I've got an in with some of the b-bigger p-pub-publications, I'm working on a series of opinion p-pieces under my remaining p-p-pen names to try and help paint vigilantes in a b-in a better light. I've b-been interviewing people who have been saved or helped by vigilantes. I'm trying to convince Collins or Jenkins to say something, but they're hesitant to say anything on the record."

"Do you think it will work?"

He shrugs. "Most of the articles I've written so far have been slightly pro-vigilante, and p-people liked those. So I'm hopeful my editors will actually run them. If not, I may have to think of something else. Won't know until they're d-done and submitted, though."

"Talk to anyone interesting?"

Glade grins a little. "Actually, yeah. A few about the Cosmic Watch, though I'm not sure I'm going to use those. One that has an interesting story about Lamplighter. And a little b-boy and girl who were saved from a fire b-by a blue lady." He glances at her, a little mischief in his eyes.

She smiles and chuckles. "How did you track them down?"

"It wasn't that hard. People who go to community centers like that usually live nearby."

She's glad they're doing alright and remember her. Those kids were really cute. It's a good reminder that, even if the general population of San Domenico isn't a fan of vigilantes, there are people out there that are alive because of them. It's exactly the kind of reminder that her partner needed. It seems like he's climbed out of the hole he was in after they took down Sinner and found his motivation again.

They spend the rest of the ride in silence, Crusade watching the building and streetlights whiz by her window. They reach the motel Prophet gave them and pull around back. Glade parks the car in the last spot, as directed, and she gets out. She doesn't see Prophet at first, but a quiet pst pulls her attention towards a door.

Prophet peeks her head out from a barely open door, hood pulled low over her face. She whispers loudly across the parking lot. "Are you Crusade?"

She nods, putting up her armor. "Yeah, Mirage sent me to help out."

Prophet waves one arm and shushes her. "Put that away, someone will see! Come in here!" Crusade quietly snorts a laugh and lets her armor fade again as she approaches the paranoid thinker. She squeezes through the tiny gap in the door that Prophet left open before slamming it shut again. They're in a stinky, poorly lit stairwell. Prophet pulls a backpack onto her shoulders and grabs one of the three duffels on the ground. "We've gotta move, he could be here at any time."

Crusade nods and grabs the other two bags. One of them is heavy and clanks a little, what the heck is in there? "We've got the crash space all set up, shouldn't take us too long to get there. My partner is waiting in the car."

Prophet freezes, eyes wide. "Mirage didn't mention anyone else, just you."

She smiles, trying to calm her. "We just figured having an extra person around would be safer if your brother does show up."

Prophet nods. "Yeah, yeah. Good thinking. Ok, come on."

Crusade opens the door again, grateful for the fresh air, and lets Prophet go out first before following. She goes over to the car and opens the trunk dumping the duffels inside. The eccentric woman puts the last duffel in, keeping her backpack with her, and slams the lid shut. She climbs into the back seat while Crusade gets back in the passenger side.

With everyone secure inside, Glade starts the car again and pulls out of the parking lot. Prophet pulls the hood of her jacket down, this time exposing bright green hair, and leans forward. "Make sure you take a few wrong turns, make sure no one can follow us."

Glade glances at Crusade before shrugging. "Sure. Crusade, can you make sure we don't pick up a tail."

Prophet nods. "Good plan. Wait…Crusade." She turns towards her. "Your name is Crusade."

"Yeah. Why?"

The thinker analyzes her for a moment before she starts muttering. "No, you wouldn't be a part of it. But maybe it's got something to do with you."

Crusade finally shifts in her seat to look at Prophet. "Part of what?"

Prophet grabs the back of both seats. "Look, usually I don't trust just anyone with this kind of information, but I get a good vibe from you." She looks around, like there might be someone else in the car. "The church has sent time travelers from the past to find and cut their enemies down with holy fire." She pauses, looking back and forth between them.

Crusade's mouth opens and closes a few times. Time travelers…from the church. "Which church?"

She scoffs. "The church. The only one that matters!"

Glade nods sagely. "And who are their enemies?"

"Pretty much everybody, but especially the people who escaped judgment."

This chick is wild. This is even more cryptic than what she said back at the office. Something about the devil and cops being flipped. What does that even mean? Wait… "Hey Prophet, what was it you told Mirage before when you first met her?"

Prophet's eyes widen. "Oh! I told her how I can see all the dots connecting. Everything's related, but nobody pays attention."

"Yeah, there was another part, though. Something about the Devil."

"Yes! The Devil taking over our TVs, the cops all get flipped, a dead man pulling the hero's strings, they all lead to the same thing, the man on top."

Holy shit, it's all right there. And in retrospect, it makes total sense. It was complete nonsense at the time, but she predicted the whole thing. Glade glances at her, confusion written on his face. She waves him off. "Later."

Prophet settles in the back, holding onto her backpack, as they make the final few turns to her new place. Glade pulls the car into a spot on a quiet street. The place Crusade found is in a quiet, older neighborhood in Earring Inlet. After exhausting the apartment complexes in the city, she ended up finding an ad for a furnished studio apartment above a corner store with low rent. She checked the crime stats in the area and found it to be pretty safe. Though she doubts Prophet will leave very often anyway.

Crusade gets out of the car and Prophet nervously follows her lead, pulling her hood back up. She looks around the dark quiet street suspiciously, hugging her backpack to her chest. Crusade grabs the duffels out of the trunk and motions for her to follow. They make their way to the side alley where there are wooden steps going up to a door on the second level. She pulls out a set of keys and unlocks the door before shoving it open with her hip. Prophet quickly follows her inside, eyes wide the whole time.

Crusade drops the bags and flips on the lights as she closes the door. The space is definitely cramped, but it's clean. There's a kitchenette in one corner with a small fridge and a narrow cooktop, a little table with two chairs in the middle of the floor, and a full bed in another corner. The door to a small bathroom is open, too. She puts the keys on the table.

With the door shut, Prophet sighs and drops her bag as she looks around. "This is good. No cameras, no tracking." She looks back at Crusade. "Is there internet?"

She nods. "Should be a jack somewhere. All the utilities are included in rent, including the internet. Do you need anything else?"

Prophet nods. "Yeah, do I need to pay rent? How do I do that? And do they know my name?"

Crusade knows all these things, but it might be better coming from Mirage. Don't want to give too many clues that they're the same person. "I'm not sure, you can check with Mirage on the details. I think your first month was already paid."

"Oh, ok. I'll call her. Thanks for helping me get here. I feel a lot better already."

She smiles. "I'm glad I could help. You have my number, if anything happens let me know and I'll be here as fast as I can."

Prophet gives a small smile and waves as Crusade leaves the tiny studio. She trots back down the stairs and gets back in the car.

Glade pulls the car back onto the street and starts taking them back to their base. "What was all that about with the d-d-devil?"

"I told you she was a precog, right?"

Glade nods. "Yeah. But that d-didn't sound like something that happened, that sounded like a conspiracy theory."

She nods. "It totally does, and I wasn't 100% sure she was legit. But now I know she is."

"How?"

"The thing she originally said to me. Everything's connected. The Devil taking over our TVs, the cops all get flipped, a dead man pulling the hero's strings, they all lead to the same thing, the man on top."

He shakes his head. "I d-don't get it."

She ticks off her fingers as she goes. "Ok, the Devil taking over our TVs. Incarnate took over the airways when he wanted Sinner back. Devil incarnate, evil incarnate? It works."

Glade's mouth drops open. "The cops get flipped."

"Sounds like corruption, but when we found the kidnapped officers they were all hanging upside down. And a dead man pulling the hero's strings? The man on top?"

"Sinclair."

Crusade nods enthusiastically. "She knew it all before it happened. The way she says it, though, it's easier for us to see it in hindsight. Something must happen when she sees these things, they get run through some sort of filter for her where she interprets it as a scheme or conspiracy. But if you can figure out what she's talking about, there's something that's going to happen in there."

Glade nods along. "So what d-did she say this time?"

She remembers back. "The church sent time travelers from the past to cut their enemies down with holy fire."

"So maybe not literal time travelers, b-but something to d-to do with the past?"

"Could be. There's something to do with fire definitely, but what? And she said their enemies were the people who escaped judgment."

Her partner hmmms. "That could be a lot of things. An escaped convict, someone they've fought b-before, or a suspect all could fit."

Crusade looks back out the window. Prophet's first prediction was a lot more specific, this is really general. "They'll cut their enemies down with holy fire. If it's fire, wouldn't they burn them?" There's something nagging at her, then it clicks. "Oh! What about Triple Six? They've kind of got a satanic thing going on, that could be a church. Reaper cuts and Hellion breathes fire!"

He thinks for a second. "What about the time travelers from the p-from the past? D-d-doesn't really hold up."

Her shoulders slump a little. "I guess. The judgment thing doesn't fit either."

Glade shrugs as he pulls the car off the road just outside their base. "We'll keep thinking about it, it's not like it's happening right now."

She nods as they climb out of the car. "Fair. It just bugs me that there's something there to be figured out. If it was just gibberish I could ignore it. But there's something there."

Glade shakes his head as they enter the front door of their base. "You need to switch off sometimes."

"I got the remedy for that right here!" Anna looks up to see Po'boy and Dakota in the kitchen, costumes off, with three boxes of tacos on the kitchen table and the counter covered with bottles. Dakota picks up one of the plastic cups full of pale green liquid and shoves it into her hands. "Here, drink."

Anna smiles and chuckles and hands the drink back. "At least let me go get comfy first. This armor is way too hot."

"Alright, alright. You take much longer and there may not be any tacos left by the time you get back."

She doesn't waste any time getting back to her room; she's starving and really could use a drink right about now. She pulls off her boots and shoves them in the corner, then peels off her armor and hangs it on the mannequin in her room. Her underclothes are all sweaty, so she takes them off too and puts on a clean pair of lounge pants and a new tank top. She hurries back out into the common space, feeling slightly refreshed.

Dakota and Po'boy are already settled on the couch with plates full of tacos. Po'boy has his laptop open on the coffee table. "I just heard there was a new broadcast, you guys gotta check this out."

Anna grabs a plate and grabs one of each type of taco and the large margarita Dakota left on the counter for her. She swirls the cup a little before taking a sip. "Dakota, did you make these?"

The Texan looks up. "Yeah, why? Too harsh?"

She smiles and shakes her head. "It's delicious! What did you do?"

Dakota smiles. "I put mezcal in with the tequila. Gives it a smoky flavor. Folks back home called it a Burnt Lime."

Anna takes another drink. "It's really good." She crosses to the living room and sits on the floor, back against the couch. Leopold emerges from his room and heads to the kitchen. "So what are we watching?"

Dakota clears her throat a little. "Before we do that, I wanted to tell y'all somethin'." Everyone turns towards her, faces expectant. "I know I've been a bit hard to live with lately. Been some things goin' on I've been preoccupied with." She pauses and takes a deep breath. "I've been goin' to Joey Messenger's trials, the guy who wrecked my shop. He was found guilty of all charges and today was sentenced to 20 years in prison."

This has been a lot for her the last couple of weeks. She can't imagine everything her teammate has been feeling with this trial going on without her being included. Anna places her hand on Dakota's knee. "How's that sit with you?"

Dakota looks away, eyes unfocused. "It feels alright. Woulda felt better if I had caught up with him, taken him in myself, but he got nabbed. He's going to spend a good long while in prison. And I just wanna…." She huffs a little. "I wanna thank y'all for helping me be here. If I had been doin' things myself, I may not have ever found out, or spent the rest of my life chasin' my tail. But I'm ok with how things are." She pauses and looks around. Her cheeks turn red and she sniffs a little, rubbing the back of her hand across her nose. "Alright, what're we doin'?"

Po'boy rubs her back a couple of times with a small smile before turning back to his computer. "There's a new High Jinx broadcast I wanna check out."

Dakota holds up a finger as she chews a mouthful of taco. "Hey Leo, we got you a mushroom enchilada if you want instead of the tacos." She turns back to Po'boy. "Who are the High Jinx?"

Po'boy's eyes widen. "What?! You guys have never heard of the High Jinx?" All three of them shake their heads. "Ok, so there's this guy in San Francisco, his name is the Hedonist. And he has these competitions for people with powers. And they're nuts. Like full on brawls and ridiculous stunts. It's awesome. You know what, screw the latest game. I'm showing you my favorite event."

Anna scarfs down her tacos while Po'boy pulls up a website and searches for a specific clip. The video loads as she takes another drink. Leopold grabs the last spot on the couch, squeezing in next to Dakota with his enchilada in hand. Twos little soothers follow behind him; one scurries under the coffee table and settles between Dakota's legs on the ground and the other sits next to Anna on the floor, patting her leg and cooing. She gives him a grateful squeeze on the knee. Dakota jumps a little when the soother starts healing her, but she reaches down and gives it a little pat on the head.

The little screen shows a giant arena with tens of thousands of people in it. How the hell do they orchestrate this? Someone starts talking over the speakers, but Po'boy leans forward and skips to the part he's looking for.

The floor of the arena is filled with shelves that are covered in pottery. Two people stand facing each other in the middle; a gargantuan man with short gray hair and stubble wearing an open vest, exposing copious amounts of chest hair, and tight black pants facing a gorgeous, tall woman with long, flowing blonde hair, green and silver armor that hugs all her curves in just the right ways, and a large axe in her hands. Neither of them wears masks, their identities on display.

The announcer starts speaking again in a slurred British accent. "What an exciting show so far! I'm so excited for our final event, ladies and gentlemen, and do hope you enjoy it. Our Battle of the Brutes has come down to Big Brother and my very own Revelry." He pauses and the crowd cheers. "Our final event will be the Bull in the China Shop. Our arena has been filled with very expensive pottery, and our finalists' job will be to not break any of it. Beat your opponent into submission before the time runs out and you win an additional 50 points. Each of our competitors has earned a score over the competition. Big Brother comes into the final round with a score of 120, and Revelry with 102. Every pot broken will result in a two-point reduction in the instigators' score. That means if you throw your opponent or use them as a weapon, you will lose the points. If you lose all your points, you lose. I think this should be quite fun. On your marks, get set, smash!"

Big Brother barrels towards Revelry, who holds her ground with a smirk until the last second. She throws herself sideways and her opponent goes crashing into one of the shelves. The shelves must be a little reinforced because they don't go toppling into one another in a domino effect, but it still smashes quite a few vases. He turns, face full of annoyance, and swipes one long arm at her. She hits him with her axe and then says something the mics don't pick up. They must not have the contestants miked-up. Big Brother frowns and grabs her in his giant hands. He lifts her overhead and tosses her into the shelves, breaking at least a dozen vases. Was he not listening to the rules?

Revelry stands, laughing all the while. She says something to him again and his face turns red as he charges at her again. She must really be pushing his buttons.

Anna takes a sip of her drink with a grin on her face. "She's baiting him, making him lose his temper. She may get tossed around, but she'll win easy."

Po'boy huffs. "Man! I thought you hadn't seen this."

She chuckles. "I haven't, but she's clearly saying something to get him angry. I'd probably do the same thing. No way you'd beat a guy like that in a straight fight."

Revelry keeps taunting Big Brother, and he keeps throwing her around like a ragdoll until his score runs down and the buzzer sounds. The crowd absolutely roars as she lifts her axe above her head, a drop of blood dripping from her nose, and the announcer declares her the winner.

Anna takes another sip of her drink. Revelry's good. She knows exactly how to get the crowd riled up, she's nimble, and she knew exactly how to take advantage of her opponent. She took a hell of a beating, yeah, but she won. And with a smile on her face. Anna's more than a little impressed.

Dakota makes a raspberry noise, startling her out of her trance. Jeez this drink is strong. "You think that's nuts? Lemme show you somethin'." She leans forward and grabs the laptop, finding a new video for them to watch.

Anna smiles and takes another bite of her tacos as Dakota pulls up a video with an actual bull in it. Crazy as they all are, she wouldn't rather be anywhere else right now than here with her team.