The man behind the desk stared at the monitor only in appearance. He was taking in the room. An unusual set of occupants that all seemed strangely fixated on the sphere. One of the males looked a tad more aware of his surroundings, but he was still focusing on the sphere. Again, his earpiece chirped at him. He smiled and responded, "5 of 5 bloodlines confirmed." His hand went under the desk, a quick flip of a switch, and the doors were sealed. They had systems in place in case someone approached the suddenly opaque glass doors while emptying the lobby, but hopefully they wouldn't need to use those.

A couple dozen men stream into the room. They wore suits, looked no nonsense, and carried themselves with purpose. Five of them pushed in wheeled chairs, looking for all the world like slightly complicated hospital equipment for moving around disagreeable patients. Aside from the built-in restraints, they also had an unusual overhead apparatus that could swing over the top. It looked like any number of things could be held in this device, but each of the five currently held a sphere that appeared to be the same design as the one sitting on the edge of the desk. Carefully they positioned these chairs near the five occupants, making certain not to break their line of sight on the original sphere. Then, they carefully began seating each individual, strapping them in.

...

Candace felt like she was starting to understand the gem. It wasn't so much a precious stone as a being that fed on light. And it kindly returned what it devoured by releasing the light back out in brilliant displays. Nothing was so generous as this dancing creature that only returned what it took in more beautiful and vivid quantities. Then, she suddenly couldn't see it. Her heart plummeted and then she became aware of her surroundings.

She was now seated, not particularly comfortably, in a rather cold seat. A man stood in front of her appearing to be preparing to grab something from behind her. She could see three other suits in her vision as well, one looking very thoughtful as he gazed at her. She started to turn her head, disorientated by what was happening. She found it very hard to turn as she found herself tightly strapped in the chair. Her mind raced, trying to grasp it all. Terror quickly flooded her system and a terrified shout trembled out of her lips.

But, there was the gem. Her panic wasn't gone, but suddenly it all started to fade away again. She desperately cried out, but all that escaped was a soft noise she barely heard as her senses dulled away again. It didn't matter that much anyway. The gem was all that really mattered.

Wait wait wait waitwaitwait this is escalating too quickly. This is still just some stupid prank show, right? See, there are cameras in the corners. I don't watch much TV, so I wouldn't really know. Maybe this is the kind of things they are doing these days. Yeah, I'm sure this is just some stunt from the entertainment branch.
But that is a gun. Why do they have guns. Why the hell do they have guns. Why could they possibly have a need for guns. Maybe it's not real, maybe it's just a fake. Yeah, of course, this is just a show. Why would they have real guns, it's obviously just a fake.
Why would they need fake guns. Why is everyone so calm and collected. Freak out, somebody! Anyone! Anyone but me, make some noise. Like you, little girl. Say something, say something please. I swear. I swear, if you don't start screaming soon, I'll make you. Is it the orb? It's the orb, isn't it? What's the deal with the orb? What makes the orb so great, so fantastic, so amazing, so bedazzling, so mesmerizing, so entrancing, so hypnotic, so, so, so. There is nothing going on with the orb. Nothing. How can you all be so calm, I can barely hear myself think through my own heartbeat. It's beating so loud I could die.
Dear god, death. I'm going to die, am I not? I'm going to die. I'm certainly going to die. There's no way I'm not going to die. I don't want to die. I need to find an escape. Maybe the doors. No, wait, that sound. The doors are locked, aren't they? Of course the doors would be locked. Maybe there's some other—
No, wait, they have guns. Right, the guns. They'll just shoot me, and I'll die. I'm going to die. I'm certainly going to die. There's no way I'm not going to die. I don't want to die. Maybe if I continue pretending. Yeah, what if I just continue pretending? I'll just continue pretending, and everything will be alright. Sit down obediently in one of those chairs and...
And then what? Then what?! What are they going to do with me? What could they possibly want from me? I haven't done anything. I'm innocent, I swear. Prison? Experimentation? Sacrifice? Maybe I should just die. Yeah, maybe death is better. I'm scared. I'm so scared, I can't think.
No, I'm not scared.
I'm terrified.
What is going on? What did I get myself into? Regret. I shouldn't have followed Daniel. I shouldn't be curious. I should just live a normal life, like a normal person. I can never go back to that normal life now. I can never go back to any life now. It all ends here. Don't kill me. Please don't kill me. Please don't kill me. Please don't— "kill me...?"

Jonathan snaps back to "reality" as one of the men places a hand on his shoulder. He reflexively moves his sweat ridden head towards the person in front of him, which is met swiftly with a gun pointed at his forehead, as a second guy commands him to stay put. The hand on his shoulder starts moving around on his body, eventually advancing to some weird and uncomfortable face massage. They lean in to each other and whisper something unintelligible. ["This guy is colder than my fridge, why isn't he in a stupor?" // "I don't know. These freaks are full of edge cases. We'll have to take him the hard way I guess."]
"I guess you can help us out, since you seem to be conscious enough. Follow our directions, unless you enjoy brain paste."
Too shaken to do anything else, Jonathan submits to assist the menacing duo with his own abduction.

(OOC: Sorry, been a very long week, and now since the pain in my spine is too much for sleep, I think I'll try to break into this a bit late.)

Kendal Brolin found his dreams filled with restless images, though when he woke up in a cold sweat he couldn't seem to recall any of them. He checked the clock, and it had only been about forty-five minutes since he last woke up and checked, just like the forty-five minutes before that, and the time before that. He'd never had trouble sleeping before, but somehow tonight he just couldn't stay asleep for whatever reason. He checked the pistol that he kept under his pillow, dropped the magazine out and counted out the fifteen rounds before shoving it back into place and rolling over again to sleep. He closed his eyes, and again, drifted off to yet another restless slumber, promising to be over well before it could be considered actual slumber. Slowly, the images invaded his mind again, and as before, his eyes snapped open, his mind a fog not recalling what he had seen in his dreamworld.

Kendal turned to his left to check the clock again, and found himself outside on the street, five blocks from home. He was on his feet, though he was standing still, fully dressed. He felt the clothing over his body, and found that he even had his bullet-proof vest on, his black work boots tied tightly, jeans, a gray t-shirt on under the vest, and three of his favorite pistols strapped to himself. His six round revolver was in his left belt holster, his 9mm that he had just checked over was on his right belt holster, and a .380 micro pistol was barely tucked into a breast pocket over his heart. The sun wasn't quite up yet, and there seemed to be no activity on the streets, so no one had apparently noticed him as of yet. That was good, he had time to get home and out of these clothes before someone called the cops about some dangerous man wandering their streets and scaring their children. He turned to walk home...

...And found himself on the outskirts of Phoenix's downtown. Kendal couldn't remember for the life of him how this happened, but his feet were sore, so he knew he had walked. The last thing he remembered was that he was heading home to get these weapons off of his body and try to sleep, and the next thing he knew he had walked apparently two more miles into the downtown. How had he walked all this way without someone calling the cops? He should have woken up in jail or something by now, but here he was, out in broad daylight, loaded for bear with exactly zero intent on discharging a weapon. He felt for his pistols, and found them all there, except the micro pistol was now in his right breast pocket instead of his left. He took out the pistol, dropped the magazine and only counted four bullets. He cocked the pistol and a fifth popped out of the chamber. Four in the magazine, one in the chamber.... where was the sixth? He popped the bullet back into the magazine and shoved the clip back in. He was always careful, always counted his rounds, kept his magazines full and no bullets in the chamber, so a missing bullet gave him a very uneasy feeling. Daylight was here now. Kendal was confused, so he did what his ex-wife always taught him to do, he closed his eyes, took a deep breath and counted to ten.

Kendal reached ten and opened his eyes, only to find himself standing in some lobby of some building he wasn't familiar with, his revolver in hand and it was pointed at some man behind a desk. This wasn't going to be his day, and he knew it.

~SE++

Emelita is stuck in a trance, unaware of the chaos erupting around her.

Sidis does not seem at all shocked by her current predicament. She always thought of restraints as something in her past, but the people in Phoenix don't seem to trust her. Really that's natural. They haven't had a chance to get to know her. They really should have asked before doing something like this though.
Sidis adresses the whole room, "Excuse me sirs, but is this really necessary? Some of us are finding you quite frightening and I'm sure you would find us quite compliant if you just explained to us where it is we need to go".
The man nearest her seems taken aback by her offer, as if suspecting a trap. Does he perceive me as an enemy? If these people are who they're supposed to be, then they should already know I'm not. Could this be a trap? Sidis gives the restraints on one of her arms an experimental jerk. If they are not HDO then they probably haven't reinforced these restraints to hold me.
Just to give her captors one last chance to prove their intent, Sidis repeats herself. "Excuse me, but is this really necessary?"

(Ooc: I am uncertain if Kendal's appearance is supposed to be sudden or not, but based on the order of the posts it felt that way and I am running with it for the moment. If this is wrong, feel free to correct me.)

Evan allowed himself a moment to relax as each of the occupants was secured in their chair. A mistake as it turns out. He closed his eyes for a moment considering how he only had a couple more hours and he could head on home. He'd be able to kick back, get a little drunk, play some LoL with his buddies. And then he felt a little ill at ease again and his eyelids slid back open to find himself at gunpoint by a strange new heavily armed occupant. Who happened to be standing in several lines of sight of the sphere he had placed on the desk.

**** he thought This is not my day.

...

Wilson deftly checked the restraints, not sure what to make of this offer or the fact its should-be-stunned occupant was making it. The lack of any sort of panic made him uncomfortable. They prepared to swing over the sphere when suddenly his earpiece chirped, "No need to restrain her. Sidis is aware of her position. Continued attempt to restrain may be viewed as hostile."

Wilson quickly commanded, "Release her." and within seconds she was. However, sudden excited shouts of had his fellow guards turning swiftly and pulling their arms. Turning, half way he saw a new militant figure holding the desk clerk at gunpoint. At least seven guns were already trained on him by this point, so Wilson decided it was more critical to ensure his own charge wouldn't do anything.

"We were uninformed of your arrival, Miss Sidis.", he said quickly, "Our apologies for having not recognized you more swiftly, but we have a bit of a situation now. If you'd be so kind, we can properly escort you in a moment."

Not waiting for a reply, he turned his full attention toward the imminent danger. Silently, he erected a small barrier before the desk clerk. Our weapons were designed to inflict pain and subdue, but his appeared far more lethal. He could only maybe stop a couple of bullets, but it should be enough if a firefight ensued.

Richard Vance picked up his cell phone and held it to his ear, seamlessly accepting the call the instant before it started ringing.

"What's the situation?"

He already knew. Took a long sip from his coffee.

'Someone with a gun showed up during the roundup.'

"Just give me a location and I'll be there."

'L3. What ar—'

Vance hung up the phone mid-sentence and downed the last dregs of his coffee. He didn't have the time or patience for formalities, right now. Left a nice tip; the staff didn't seem to be phased by serving him, despite his injuries.

A car was waiting for him outside. He'd be there shortly.

Well that was reassuring. I'm still not certain though. Sidis' eyes began tracing their way back to the hypnotic sphere. No. Maybe I will need it later, but unless instructed otherwise I should keep my options open. There's so much here I just don't know.

Kendal looked around the room at the guns pointed at him, the people restrained, the little girl who seemed to be horribly out of place, and a very interesting sphere. It was odd, it just sits there and yet... he couldn't take his eyes off it. He knew he was in a strange place, he had no idea where, and he knew he hadn't moved his revolver, but he couldn't be bothered to care. He could feel some of the darkness of his dreams, the edge of sleep that he could never remember when he woke up. He knew he was slipping, but the sphere wouldn't let him go, it kept holding his gaze. His eyes glaze over and he surrenders to the sphere's influence.

The moment Kendal blacks out again, he squeezes the trigger and fires a .50 cal into the invisible barrier, and vanishes from view.

~SE++

Vance entered the building, holding up his HDO identification card to gain full access. He put on a pair of specially polarized sunglasses, designed to prevent the neutralization orbs from effecting him, then burst into the room where the shooting happened. A mild sense of uneasiness gripped him at the prospect of an invisible threat, but he quickly shrugged it off.

"What's the status?"

As an agent opened his mouth to answer him, Vance glanced down at his phone and immediately cut him off, much to the agent's mild annoyance.

"Sidis, is it? I've been instructed to give you these."

Vance handed the teenager a similar pair of sunglasses, then turned back to the irritated agent.

"Status?"

Wilson grunted a little as the bullet impacted his barrier, a contained noise as he desperately struggled to avoid blacking out. Somehow, he managed not to slip away and steadied his mind to hold back the next shot. Probably the last one he would be able to stop. Luckily for him, no more shots fired. Agents began to shout and Wilson glanced up to see that the figure was gone as if he hadn't been there. Well, minus a bullet somewhere, anyway.

His earpiece buzzed with instructions. "Restrain the gunman. He appears to be under the sphere's influence." He looked around the room, spinning in place think he'd just move so fast that none of them had seen him. There wasn't a single trace of him. Activating his own mic, he responded, "We have lost the gunman. Location?" A moment of longer static than was typical. It buzzed back, "Right in front of the desk, James. Are you alright?"

Again, he took a careful look and then cleared his throat, looking around the room, confirming the rest of the assembled muscle had no idea either. Instead of wasting time asking questions, he moved toward the desk clerk. Easing in behind, careful to avoid the sphere, he requested, "Bring up the camera feed for the lobby."

...

Evan felt a little bit unappreciated. Here he was taking gunfire in the line of duty and not even a Are you alright? Whatever else happened today would be on someone else. Dealing with trumped-up supernaturals is one thing. Getting shot at is another. However, he considered the grim look at the more senior agents face to mean he should comply for the moment. He could probably bring the feed up himself, but arguing was just likely to get him into hot water.

He fumbled the keystrokes a few times before bring up the live feed. Once glance and Evan was out cold.

...

As the desk clerk collapsed, Wilson expertly took control, enlarging the camera with the best angle. The heavily militarized man still stood there, gun pointed at the desk, lost in the sphere's depths. Clearing his throat, he shouted to the room, "Be advised. Target is still in front of the desk. Take care not to break line of sight on the sphere. We've got a Mr. Invisible on our hands."

Suddenly, the doors unlocked and Vance strolled in. Why the hell is here? he thought, moving forward to deal with the potential violent outburst waiting to happen. He requested status, got briefly distracted by Miss Sidis, then requested it again. Wilson imagined a blood vessel popping out in irritation on his face. For some reason it relaxed him.

"The situation is contained, sir. The gunman can go invisible to the naked eye, though not the cameras. We are moving to restrain him now." Speaking of which, someone needed to be questioned about how they didn't notice the armed man enter the building in the first place. They took care not to leave blind spots in the security system so someone was probably getting severely reprimanded at the very least. He returned his eye to the camera as he started giving out more direct instruction to the agents attempting to restrain him. One of them grabbed his shoulder and noted, "I can't even feel anything. My hand just won't close anymore." Wilson noted that when they got him restrained he was going to get a few field helmets so they could keep a watchful eye on him.

Vance smirked with amusement as he watched one of the agents fumble around trying to find the target through auditory instructions alone. The agent reached in front of himself and stopped.

'I can't even feel anything. My hand just won't close anymore.'

Vance pulled out his phone and activated the camera function. He visually confirmed that the target was detained on the screen.

"Good work, agent."

He hoped from the bottom of his heart that they felt like idiots right now.

Wilson wasn't sure what was worse. The smug smirk itself or the fact there was little he could do about it. While there was functionally little difference between using the camera feed and pulling out a camera phone since someone still needed to be instructed to actually secure him, most people would still consider it foolish not to pull out a phone first. He was the sort of aggravating superior who would normally not last long. Unfortunately, Richard Vance was severely abnormal, which made it severely difficult for him to suffer any sort of accident. A couple of the other board members had actually personally asked Wilson and others to keep a tighter hold on their sections. Something along the lines of He's proven with quite a few bodies that he isn't someone that can be casually removed. Stop your men before they are. Still, there were easily dozens of people he could think of who wouldn't mind seeing the clever financier suffer an unfortunate demise.

Personal feelings aside, this had gone move smoothly than Wilson had expected. A single gunshot, no one injured, and what appeared to be five or six contained and mostly confirmed members of the bloodline. No doubt the lab would figure that out quickly enough once they had been secured individual and some tests were run, but the sphere was proof enough in his mind. Wilson wasn't certain what to make of the scared boy desperately trying not to completely panic, but they'd know more soon enough.

Disarming our new camouflaged friend proved more tricky, though. They hadn't even bothered to pat him down yet. Each time they thought they successfully liberated his primary weapon from his grasp, it would promptly vanish and reappear in or near his hand. After about 7 or 8 attempts, they decided to settle for it being in his lap. He was restrained and couldn't reach it. "Just make sure nobody is standing directly in front of him when we stop the whammy.", Wilson told them. They took extra care swinging over the other sphere, carefully letting both remain in his focus for several seconds before determining it was safe to move him.

"Bryant, take the Desk Clerk somewhere to rest. Ford, watch the desk until they send a replacement. Let's get everyone else accommodated quickly gentlemen."

Silently, they wheeled past him toward the more secure cells of the building. The invisible gunman, followed by a kid with weird hair, some woman who looked to have been seriously jogging rather than prancing about asking for attention, and a couple of boys, the latter of which appeared to be out of his mind. Wilson halted the suit pushing him along for a moment and said, "Just cooperate and you won't be harmed, son. Just cooperate." It was a minor white lie, but better to try to keep him somewhat at ease. Left in the room were Director Vance, Miss Sidis, Ford, himself, and a couple of suits who appeared to be accompanying the girl. Naturally, the director was unaccompanied, despite protocol saying he should be.

He offered, "If you'd all care to join me, I can show you to the briefing room." Maybe Vance would decline and be on his way. Probably not, but one could hope. The others would be secured for now as a team of specialists ran their tests. His eyes swept the room briefly and he noticed a bullet casing lying nearby. He bent and pocketed it. The lobby looked as it usually did now.

Vance pulled out a cigarette and lit it. He was good at reading facial expressions, so he could clearly tell that Wilson hated his guts from their prior exchange.

He took in a long drag, then exhaled the smoke in Wilson's general direction. No smoking was allowed in the facility and he assumed that Wilson was the kind of person who would be bothered by him doing so despite the fact.

"Let's try to make it fast, I've got a lot on my plate today."

A lie. Vance's schedule was completely open.

"Do we have any information on any of them?"

Vance started walking and—without looking back—gestured for the others to follow him by raising a flat hand level with his head and curling it partially inwards a couple of times.

After a lengthy trip of being pushed around in a chair, a new environment closed in on him, as he sat for minutes taking in everything that had happened until now. The room surrounding Jonathan was barren and white, almost blindingly so. The featureless walls were like a canvas as a myriad of thoughts filled the gnawing silence, questions upon questions upon questions, an entire maze flooded with uncertainty. What will, has, and is currently happening? He told himself not to think upon it too much, that thinking about it would only make it worse, but imagination pulled far stronger than restraint. Sitting there snugly in his straitjacket, unable to move, his mind wandered still. Despite all occurrences, Jonathan worked hard at rationalizing it all; gunfights, hypnosis, invisible men, all of it. Smokes and mirrors could get someone pretty far, but the purpose for all of this eluded him. Not to mention the complete disregard for human rights that abolished any assumption of this being something legal. The feeling that this was something he had wished for since so long ago grew stronger and stronger, but right now, he wanted none of it. Jonathan was not ready to open the curtains of the world, not ready to see the theater of secrets. His attendants had told him they would retrieve him soon, but for now, it would be nice if the door remained shut forever.

Ten minutes past noon, Jade Kobayashi woke up in her single bedroom apartment drenched in sweat. Her bed sheets had somehow made it to the other side of the room. She clenched her right hand into a fist and punched her bed with every ounce of strength she could muster.

F*** my dad.

It had been a year since he had died, but she was still bitter about it. He’d been a great man and an even greater father, but he’d managed to change his legacy from that of a role model to one of lifelong frustration in the last few days of his life.

Jade took a quick shower and got dressed. Even putting on clothing brought her back to what had effectively become her mantra.

F*** my dad.

She donned a grey pantsuit. It covered up the series of elaborate tattoos she had on her back. She looked in the mirror and felt like she wanted to throw up.

This isn’t me. This isn’t the kind of life I wanted.

She drove herself to the office. Having grown up outside of Phoenix, she was able to appreciate the wideness of the roads. The resulting lack of traffic was the one thing she didn’t mind about her current situation, but how small of a boon it was almost made her feel worse about her situation. She parked in her spot and entered the building. The receptionist greeted her cheerfully as always, despite having never once returned the favor.

F*** my dad.

Jade’s father had been one of the primary board members of the Humanity Defense Organization. He had been responsible for giving a scientific perspective and had been given his position due to his exceptional contributions towards bloodline related research and development. It had been under his direction that they had discovered the sequence of recessive traits responsible for bloodline abilities. The nullification orb had been a joint venture between Mr. Kobayashi and a colleague. And he had gotten the board to agree to name her as his successor on the off chance that he passed away.

F*** my dad.

Jade’s father had never pressured her into pursuing a career in any particular field. It had been her sheer admiration for her father that made her decide to involve herself so heavily in the sciences. He had arranged for her to attend any school she could get accepted into and, upon graduating, he offered her an internship at the HDO. Her father made every effort to teach her everything he knew. It made it that much worse when—despite the board’s reluctant agreement to allow her to join due to fears of nepotism—she proved every bit as capable as her father had been. They had no reason to kick her from the board; she was the perfect candidate to succeed her father.

F*** my dad.

Jade entered the research lab and the staff looked at her with a sort of mixture of fear and respect. It made her feel nauseous. They told her that they’d apprehended a new batch of bloodline members. She told them to run the blood work and contact her when they finished. She went back to her office. A picture of an 8 year old Jade and her smiling father greeted her when she got there. She picked it up and sighed.

The day before he died, her father had told her that he was worried about the HDO’s board of directors. They had divided themselves into a series of subcommittees and kept information from one another, but he feared for the worst. A handful of them had repeatedly pressed him for help in developing a means of artificially generating bloodline members, despite his adamant rejection. He had told her that he was worried that some of them were hiding something terrible. He said he needed her to stop them from going too far if he couldn’t. And then, half a day later, he was dead. Heart attack. No autopsy.

F*** my dad for caring about the world.

And f*** me for caring too much about him to say no.