Jonesycat79

Emily’s (Former) Apartment – 10:42 AM EST “What the fuck is going on?” Emily had walked in on her friend Ashley suspended upside down in the air, occult literature rotating around her and a person resembling Pierce Brosnan in ancient armor. “I ask you to apartment sit for a week and you make it into Spook Central?” Emily almost tore the coat closet door off from the hinge. Located among the various costumes she had left behind was a variant of her old striped hoodie dress in a slightly darker shade of blue. “I never expected to need this ever again.” She examined a pistol from the holster integrated in the center pocket. “Professor Rees, forgive the delayed introduction.” Archie waved his hands towards Emily. Emily’s waitress outfit automatically removed itself in time for the hoodie dress to pull over much like a jumper. “Now I’ve saved you the hassle of manually changing outfits. My name is ‘Architect’ or ‘Archie’ in casual conversation.” “Yeah

“Overwatch fans, brace yourselves for the ultimate MEKA experience this weekend! See a recreation of the MEKA hangar fully realized in reality! Sit on the beanbag chairs that you recognize from the spawn room! Experience the gyroscopic gaming chair of the 2070’s! All this and more awaits you in historic Suffolk. Only [100 of regional currency] for admission! You get the whole seat, but you’ll only need the edge.” This obnoxious ad ran around the world on a Wednesday afternoon. Surely, there’s no chance anyone would actually attend, right? Well, about that… Saturday Morning in Suffolk One man stood in line outside of a dilapidated boarding school auditorium that sported stock footage-adorn posters over cracks in the exterior walls and broken windows. The queue marking ropes were so cheap that the man accidentally broke by bumping into them. “Maybe they picked this place to have a reasonable approximation of an omnic attack epicenter.” He took a selfie in front of a poster

About an hour passed before either of us did much of anything, though Michelle might’ve been the first to visit the bathroom. I don’t think we even turned on the television; both of us mostly drifted off and took a good siesta. My phone might’ve rang around 3:30, when Agent Jepson arrived at the hotel. Two moments later, he arrived at the room. He delivered our luggage, but wanted to show us the race transmitter and the tablet, which had been brought seperately by Agents Hawthorne and Hannibal. He asked that we join them in a private meeting room on the hotel’s second floor. Inside was your typical hotel conference room, though this one was more upscale than most I’ve been to in recent memory. Several tables had been set up with chairs, though I couldn’t see us needing more than one. Hawthorne and Hannibal were there waiting for us. On the nearest table to the group was the tablet and transmitter from the race. “There won’t be any need to sit,” Hannibal said. “Please

A moment or two later, I had Agent Jepson on the line. Even though he was in his room upstairs, we talked on our cellphones for conveniance. “That’s no trouble,” he said over my phone’s speaker after I explained the situation. “Jackson provided me with an EZ-Pass transponder; he suspected you folks wouldn’t be going through as many cities.” “He knows me well,” I said. “But Google puts us at Wrigley Field by about 2:30 in the afternoon if we primarily follow the interstates.” “Agreed,” Jepson said. “Either way, it’s easy enough for me to give you the transponder in the morning. Ours is set up specifically for federal vehicles in that it doesn’t care which vehicle it’s in, so you’ll have no issues.” “Sounds like a plan,” I said. “What do we know about Hannibal and Hawthorne? Did they get in okay?” “Jackson ordered them to drive as far as they could tonight and then try to get ahead of you both tomorrow,” Jepson replied. “I imagine they’re close to Dubuque by