GUARDIAN SENTINELS ━━ DEAD BY DAYLIGHT AU

✰ TWO

"Hey, Visconti?" The brunette called out, smirking at the startled squeak he gave as a quarter glass of scotch sloshed onto his white button-up. He turned around with a moderately peeved look, before hastily schooling his features into a carefree grin as quick as a blink.

"Yes, my dear?" He smirked, wincing at the unimpressed stare she tossed his way. "Ugh, earlier when we were boarding. Did you mention having to collect someone? What do you mean?" Ace took a small mouthful before swallowing. His grin returning.

"Darling, I hate saying this. But to stop the trigger happy legion and free the patient we are to require a few more hands, the two of us," He paused before he hastily corrected himself, "Well if we include Mister King then that's three of us. But even so, we can't accomplish this." Nea scowled at the mention of the former brawler, his file heavily implied someone she would not care to get along with, even despite Ace's pleas.

"I understand. But who exactly can help? And who on earth would actually say yes to this shit?" She asked, Ace took another mouthful of the amber liquid, before walking over to where his case had been tossed. Fishing out a rather cliche manila folder and handing it over to her.

"The fine ladies and gentlemen I plan to recruit are in there. Take a look while we get to our first destination." He nodded, tipping his fedora to her before collapsing into the leather seat with a heavy sigh.

The ex-spy followed his example and flopped onto her seat. Pulling her knees to her chest and turning the cover of the folder. Eyes skimming over the small printed letters as she read over the information she'd already known. Skipping a few pages until she reached a section marked off with a pink post-it note, the neat cursive written by Ace's hand reading "Meghan Thomas."

Nea thanked the attendant as she took her cup of tea. Taking a scalding sip as she turned the page.

Name: Meghan Thomas
Age: 22
Nationality: American
Abilities: Super Speed
— 4 Attached Pictures —
*A small picture of a slim redhead running around a track laughing*
*A larger picture of two collapsed football goals, one of which lay on top of the redhead*
*Multiple brain scans and bone scans*
*A red blur speeding past a camera*

Nea whistled lowly at the extensive damage the goal post had inflicted on her small body. And incredibly impressed that she had survived. Three pages of paragraphs went into depth for her treatment and the usage of an untested substance that had apparently given the girl her abilities. Something that if the wounds hadn't killed her, the substance would have for sure.

There was a number one circled around Meg's name, so she presumed they were headed over to convince her to join them first. Fair enough considering they were quite close to her last known location in her mother's home.

A quick glance over to Ace showed that he had his phone pressed against his air, nodding along and mouthing words along the lines of: "We're on our way back soon David."

Nea averted her eyes in favor of turning the next page, gently brushing her thumb over the green sticky note. The name reading David King.

Name: David King
Age: 25
Nationality: English
Abilities: Super Strength and High Pain Tolerance
— 3 Attached Pictures —
*Two men in a cage fight scene. One man laying on the ground crying, the second man standing above him victoriously. Grinning despite the major wounds across his body*
*The same man standing in a bar, knocked out people surrounding him, and the picture shows the man drunkenly crush the other man's wrist with his pinky and thumb*
*A newspaper with a section stating the man's disappearance after the bar fight. After he killed four people while drunk*

Nea frowned, her reason for her hating him laying right in front of her. He was a drunk. He didn't think, he just acted out of rage. His drunken nature reminded her so horribly of herself back when she'd first started trialing the hero life.

Especially as one of her first missions that involved the legion. The stress of preparing for it had driven her to drink a week before, and her barriers had cracked.

It only took a few drinks from their leader Frank. And she spilled her secrets and motivations to their group. She should have died that night.

Rapidly blinking, she scooped the discarded pages and shuffled them back into the folder before setting it off to the side. Pulling her beanie over her face she kicked up her feet and settled into a dreamless nap.