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Boaz jumped when the radio he had with him started to beep to indicate that someone was trying to reach him. Of all the times, for everything that was holy, now? As reluctant as he was to leave Mel's side at the con even if it was for a brief moment, he knew he couldn't shirk the responsibilities that came with the shirt that identified him as one of the staff members of the con.

"I'll just step aside for a bit to check on this. We can get both if you're having trouble deciding between them?" He gave Mel's hand a squeeze then stepped to the side of the booth to take Björn's message that came through the device itself. Ah... so that was what the beeping was about. Björn. He remembered him during the briefing session that they had. Tall, burly figure who looked like he spent a good part of his life working out in the gym. Probably Titanlåvenite unless the Negaverse had other similar looking musclemen among their ranks. "Boaz here. That will be a negative. Everything's looking good so far."

Misha handed over the money as Micah claimed her prize, regardless of who had actually won it. Sliming, she fitted the orange flower into Misha’s lapel, as promised. After more adjusting than was necessary – Misha suspected Micah was just apologizing for her earlier actions – she poked the blue morning glory through her hair, proudly displaying it amongst her curls. Misha smiled, which, in turn, caused his sister to beam and blush and bounce. As she flitted, Misha stepped forward again, gently guiding his sister out of the way.

“She likes flowers,” he supplied, checking the wares again. “Normally I go to the supermarket to make up with her. I hadn’t known we had such a fantastic florist. Do you have a card I could use next time I piss her off maybe?”

Before Misha got his answer, however, all hell broke loose.

Gabriel frowned. Skulking about as security was actually going pretty well for him - he'd learned a lot about being intimidating as Natron. Half of it was in drawing yourself up and projecting the right aura, and when he was genuinely in a position to back up his words, the aura was easy. After all, he was official security, as the slightly dorky jacket indicated.

He considered himself lucky that there hadn't really been any major incidents. Sure, he was stronger now than he'd ever been in high school - cardio exercise and quite a lot of upper body workouts had made for that - but he wasn't entirely confident in his abilities in his civilian form, silly as it was. After all, every skill he had as Natron he had as Gabriel, he was just...lacking in the physical enhancements that came with being an officer. And also lacking his mace, but he barely used that anyway. It just got in the way, most of the time. Not much more useful than a dodgeball, that way.

He glanced at the clock, and frowned deeper. The raffle was drawing near - and if he knew anything about Bischofite, that would be the moment it would all go tits up, as it were. So he slipped away from his security post to the staff area.

He'd have to track down Caitlyn, Lance, and Alistair - make sure the three of them, at least, got out unharmed. Keep his fellow officers off them if things went the way they probably ought to. He hated to think of something happening to his friends on what was essentially his watch. Normally he was all for civilian casualties - just not those civilians.

He arrived in the staff area and sat down to wait for the raffle to be called. Nothing to do but wait.


Alistair nodded. Then, there was an announcement over the loudspeaker announcing that the raffle drawing was coming up. He glanced over at Lance. "Do you want to see what that's about? Or just find somewhere to wait it out?" The second option seemed both better and more likely, but might as well offer.

Something wicked this way comes.

Porsha listened with obvious interest as Alois spoke. Touching on the altogether simplistic plans that had been laid into place by the Negaverse. Certainly effective to their goals, but utterly boring.

The con itself offered some manner of distracted entertainment, but it wasn't Porsha's scene. She could appreciate the costumes, the atmosphere, and the job she'd been given. She could walk among the crowd and take idle enjoyment where it was provided, but in the end it would be nothing to her. A pleasant, if easily forgotten memory.

Well, the majority of it. There were some points of interest that would linger, looked back on fondly, but on a whole, she found the whole charade tiring.

But now Alois spoke of other plans, and Porsha hung on his every word as he teased and tantalized with delicious hints of something more. "Yes we must," she offered in agreement, cool eyes rolling out and over the crowd, searching, hunting.

If he wanted to spread anarchy, then she would be only too pleased to provide the gasoline.

A hand rose, resting at the small of his back as they moved in silence around the con. Like him she watched the gathered crowds, the smiling faces. They were all so carefree, so happy.

When they reached the doors she moved closer, leaning into him so her ear was near the mesh side of the helmet. Fingertips sliding along his sides as he gave her instructions, whet her appetite for destruction. It was anticipation that had her wetting her lips, excitement that pressed her nails into his his hips, and when he slid through the door her touch was lingering as they parted.

It closed behind him, and Porsha went for her radio.

It was time.

Her attention was drawn away from the food to the stage, where prizes were being handed out. Aw man, prizes! She didn't even realize that there was a raffle going on! Ah well, she watched people get up on stage with a bit on envy...

Until one of them collapsed. She started toward the stage, but forced herself to stop. There were medics on hand to take care of him.

Though when the doors locked, Castille's heart began to race. No no no no no..

It was the carnival all over again!

Caitlyn laughed. "It's okay, I had to make sure my other friends were alright before I took off on them anyway," she said, reaching up to adjust her wig a little. She felt a little warmth at the familiar dance of sibling banter - it was eternally familiar to her. She took Shen's hand and shook it.

"Nice to meet you too, Shen," she said. "Yeah, I did. The shirt and pants were store-bought, and so were the boots, but the straps, jacket, and props - I did those." She sounded thoroughly proud of herself. "Perfectly worth it."