Cherish hummed as she walked down the trash-crowded streets of what the locals called 'the Docks'. Hardly a creative name, but considering how much of a shithole it was she could hardly blame them for lacking creativity. The sun was going down, and the darkness did little to hide how ugly it all was.

  That didn't matter too much though, she'd had a good day. Spent a little while checking on Jean-Paul, really just listening out for the dull tones of his song. A smile touched Cherish's lips, thinking about her little brother. He wasn't far, just a few blocks over from where they were staying now, and had no idea what was coming his way.

  Of course, that wasn't true for everyone she'd been checking on today. In fact, that was why she was heading home before curfew for the first time since arriving. Cherish had been slowly compiling a list of potential candidates for the Nine, feeding information to them as she learned it. A good opportunity to work on each in turn.

  “Jack,” Cherish said as she strode into the disgusting little apartment they currently called 'home'.

  “Welcome back Cherie!” Bonesaw said brightly as she cut into one victim or another. Judging by the metal parts scattered all over, she was building another brain-spider. Ew.

  “Cherish,” Jack greeted her. “I assume your walk was...productive?” She smiled.

  “Something like that,” she replied, stepping carefully around Bonesaw's...working area, and sat on the arm of the couch. “You said you wanted updates on...interesting parahumans, right?”

  “I do,” he replied with a grin. “Though I'm leaning towards, what was that melodramatic name you gave him?”

  “The broken assassin?”

  “The very same,” Jack said, snapping his fingers. “I do appreciate the flair though.”

  “Well here's a new one: 'the lonely Ward'.” He arched a brow.

  “You think a Ward has potential?”

  “Well if she goes crazy you could call her 'the psych Ward',” Bonesaw added with a giggle. It earned a dry chuckle from Jack too. Cherish ignored it, pushed just a little more affection for her onto Jack, a trickle, barely more than before.

  “I think you'll find her interesting,” she continued, letting her smile grow just a bit more. “Because she knows you will.” Ah, that got his attention.

  Stolen novel; please report.

  “Go on,” Jack said, leaning back on the armchair he sat in.

  “She knows we're here,” Cherish explained. “Was taking a stroll near the headquarters, checking up on Mannequin's candidate, and got blasted out of nowhere.” She winced, remembering the intense cacophony of terror directed straight at Jack. Practically made her ears ring. “She knows, not thinks; she's sure that you're coming for her. She was afraid of all of us, pretty directly too. Like she'd met us before.” He stroked his chin thoughtfully.

  “Tell me about her.” Cherish smiled.

  “From what I've heard,” she replied with a hint of irony. “She's new, really new. As in, just officially joined the today. As far as I can tell, none of us have actually met her. Protectorate announcement says she's lived here all her life too, so unless you visited her last time you were here...”

  “Maybe she really is crazy,” Bonesaw said as she removed her victim's brain, lobe by lobe.

  “Could be,” Jack said, a smile growing.

  “It could,” Cherish admitted, though with more than a hint of sarcasm. “Except she doesn't sound a thing like it.” Delusion was an ugly sound, but one that was fun to play with. “If I had to guess, she's a precog or something like it. Maybe she had a vision, but it wasn't a dream.” The blast of noise had been sudden, blotting out the geek's sound that had been a relatively peaceful slumber.

  “So she thinks she knows we're coming,” Jack drawled. “Well, that's a shame really. I was hoping for a bit more surprise, considering how quiet we've been.” Cherish wouldn't say leaving calling cards scattered around was 'quiet', but Shatterbird hadn't sung yet; everything was relative. “So, what's the Protectorate's response?”

  “Oh they don't know we're here,” Cherish said, waving her hand dismissively. “Or at least, not for sure. The Ward hasn't told them.” He sat up a bit straighter at that. “And before you ask she did meet with one of them after she figured us out. Not a hint that they talked about us.”

  “Well that's dumb,” Bonesaw said, rolling her eyes. “Maybe 'the dumb Ward' works better.”

  “Any reason?” Jack asked, ignoring the comment. Good.

  “None,” she answered with a shake of her head. “Not a hint of guilt either, well...”

  “Oh come on, don't hold out on me.” Cherish smirked.

  “She felt responsible for the death of the person she spoke to,” she continued. “A death also connected to you. Kill any Protectorate heroes lately?”

  “Not yet,” he replied, a wicked smile twisting his face. “But I could be persuaded.”

  “Some Nazi connections too,” Cherish added, almost forgetting. The notes had been so faint, but still present. “Not really sure how, but they're there. Couple of them know her and she's got some feelings about them. Could be a good angle to pick at.”

  “Oh let me handle all that,” Jack said hastily. “Anything else?”

  “Friends with one Amy Dallon,” Cherish replied with a shrug. “Or something. Their connection is...messy.”

  “She'd better not try and mess with her,” Bonesaw said petulantly. Of course, she wanted her new sister after all. If only she knew what kind of a sibling the Dallon girl was.

  “We'll make sure the rules are very clear,” Jack said, rising and walking over to the girl, then patting her head. “Good work, Cherish.”

  “No problem,” she replied, amplifying the note of affection ever so slightly above normal. “When are we starting anyway? Precog or not, the Protectorate isn't going to let us be.”

  “Not long at all,” Jack said with a wry chuckle. “And now? I'm looking forward to it.”