She wasn’t looking to go to a hot tub party. There were better things for her to do. But the one thing she recognized about this world was that she needed to keep up her dual identity. There was information everywhere, there were people scrutinizing every through small camera phones, and suspicious minds always trying to find connections. Early on in the modern age, she learned the benefits of hiding in plain sight, and thus, that was what she was going to do tonight.

Tonight she wasn’t Niko Kobayashi, the hunter of criminals known as the Bloody Samurai. No, tonight she hung up her sword and armor and, instead, donned a black-and-white striped bikini and wrapped herself in the guise of Melissa Kobayashi, the trust fund socialite philanthropist whose “grandfather” ran Red Pearl Publishing. Tonight was to be a night of revelry, if only for the sake of appearances.

Getting into the establishment had been simple enough. She smiled and waved to her fans, took a few selfies, and then proceeded inside. It didn’t take long for the catcalls and whistles to be thrown her way, but a flirty smile, followed by a disinterested turn of her eyes had been enough to keep most interested parties away. She wasn’t here for a fling, but to show up, throw some money around, and donate to a good cause.

A white, gauzy wrap covered her lower half, acting as a kind of ethereal shawl which circled her waist. A long island iced tea in her hand, she took a few sips of it as she made her way past the hot tubs (to be revisited later and into the auction area. That was what she was here for anyways, right? To spend money and increase her philanthropic image. Surely this will give her some necessary coverage so she could run around doing her real work.

Once she was in the auction area, Niko began her wandering, checking out the various silent auctions that were available. She could easily win any of them but she would play fair. After placing a bid for some Salsa dancing lessons, she sighed as she continued to wander. From her phone she typed in a few words into her social media account, no photos though because that would be rude.

OMG. Hot Tub party is lit! Show up and donate to a worthy cause! #hottubparty2020 #funddeagers #checkitout

After posting the Chirp, she sighed and continued to wander. She wouldn’t stay long. Just long enough to raise awareness, win a couple of bids, and maybe enjoy a soak before she slipped back out into the night. The Man of Shadows didn’t rest, so neither should she.

Even if it wasn't all over social media, and Serena wasn't aware of the party from other mansion residents buzzing about it and attending, her editor bugged the ever living crap out of her to make an appearance, donate some money and smile at people. Serena had practice with these social and charity mixers, a lot of it in fact from the last couple of years as a result of the activism she'd taken part in.

Hot tubs and bikinis she'd not done. There had been a few fancy dress ones, some Halloween events and other strange themes. Bikinis though were not something she'd had to wear for any of them. Serena didn't own... Well, she didn't generally like to show that much skin. It wasn't like there was anything wrong with them, and she definitely appreciated gorgeous woman in them. They just made her a little uncomfortable on occasion.

An excuse to go shopping as always nice, she definitely didn't do it for herself often enough. After a long afternoon of trying on various swimsuits and lamenting showing her midriff, Serena settled on a slightly more modest one piece.

So here she was, wandering around party with people that she was sure were not all of age, smiling and shaking hands for what seemed like hours until she decided it was enough, dropped off a donation and got herself a glass of gin and quietly slipped into a hot tub, glancing around at some familiar and new faces, wondering idly how many people in the room were de-aged, and how many were just here for a party, or to actually donate.

When invited to a party charity event thing to help raise awareness and support for people that had become victims of this de-aging problem, by a newly de-aged new friend, Shay would typically spend a lot of time debating on whether or not to actually go, trying to find excuses not to do this social thing, and avoiding them people talking them into it. But it was Nessa that had asked.

Normally, if Shay was to go to one of these things and it wasn't an official team event or something, they would totally go incognito, doing a fresh character edit before coming, so as to not attract any unwanted attention. But Nessa had suggested to Shay, and on the slim off chance that Nessa actually wanted to chat, Shay would need to be recognisable.

It was after all, totally Shay's fault Nessa got de-aged to begin with. They could deal with a little social anxiety and stress. Besides, it wasn't like Shay got to wear bikinis outside of shoots all that often!

So here Shay was, in a easily recognisable face, milling around the room after getting in with some stammering to the event staff, Shay glanced around awkwardly for a face she knew. There were a serious number of people here, definitely a mixture of age groups. One benefit was picking from the large assortment of outfits for a nice swimsuit to wear to the event. Shay ambled around and found themselves standing awkwardly near one of the tubs, just dipping her toes in and wondering how to start a conversation.

"OMG! ShadyShay?" A fangirl exclaimed.

Oh dear god. "Uh-Er-hi" Shay glanced around, looking for help. What was a fan doing at an event like this? What were the odds?

The lead-up to the party was both embarrassing and confusing, but the party itself? Would be epic and legendary.

It had all started with a conversation with Sam. Which had lead to learning about the party. Which was sort of an excuse to get out of the mansion and think of something new. Sam had been signed up for an auction of some sort? An action auction? And he had been her ride. She had been his plus one. When they’d arrived at the party, they’d split up. She’d wished him luck, and told him “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” He had smirked. And she had left him to his own vices. Now, she was at the party on her own, looking around and trying to figure out what to do.

In her black bikini, Amelia looked the part at least. A deaged sixteen, maybe seventeen, year-old girl among dozens of other deaged men and women. Unlike the flock, she was only looking to have fun. Not to have... “fun.” Because she had a girlfriend. Which was weird, potentially, and the age situation was probably a topic they’d have to broach at some point. But. Not. Tonight.

As she passed a waitress, she plucked a glass of white wine off the tray. They’d checked her ID. It was totally legal. Amelia took a sip of it, and let her eyes wander across the event space. They landed on a blonde in a frilly orange (or was it salmon?) swimsuit.

The blonde was dipping her toe in a hot tub, minding her own business. Looking kind of awkward and adorkable, if she were being one hundred percent honest. And then, some randumb barged in on her train of thought and made the woman look EVEN more uncomfortable. Amelia saw the look on the woman’s face, saw the silent call for help. She took matters into her own hands.

She snagged another wine glass as she approached the blonde and the supposed fan girl. This time, it was red wine. Then, she put the biggest smile she could plaster on her face.

“Heeeeey honey,” she beamed. Amelia pressed her way into the space between the fan girl and the blonde woman. She held out the red wine for her. “Sorry that took so long! I got distracted talking to someone. Here’s your drink! And, oh—“ Amelia turned her head to face the fan girl she’d sort of lightly elbowed out of the way, and she let the smile slip into a very nice little RBF. “And who is this?”

The woman in charge didn't do handshakes, but the woman she'd been chatting with did. Brunette, nothing remarkable about her besides a bit of intensity or enthusiasm or... bootlicker-y? Yeah. She looked like a total suck-up.

Spencer was happy to have her handshake co-opted rather than left hanging. A howdy. Ohhhh how quaint!

"Another Texan. Excellent." The Texans seemed to be trying to secretly communicate in the overtly obvious Texan way. Okay. Maybe that was her bias coming in. Spencer amended her mental dialog. The Texans were trying to secret talk, but did everything bigger.

That was fine by her, the woman in charge, introduced as Sveta, had her own plans.

> "Everything is off the record until I say so."

"Absolutely. You're the boss." She retreated a step towards the bar and Spencer could take the hint. It'd be easier to hear in a more private location, right? "I'm not opposed to giving Haven the glowing spotlight treatment. Yay awareness! But I'll be honest with you, my boss sent me here to see what happened to the guy who used to be the face. You know Mr. Haven himself. Er- Hadden. I meant Hadden." Erg! She flubbed. And here she were trying to be all professional sounding in her bikini...

Spencer glanced around before settling into a space at the bar. There were e-girls, dudes in hawaiian shirts, skinny ones, pretty ones, was that... a kid in floaties?

The Ranger was trying to tell him something and he tried on a smile like maybe he sorta caught what was being mouthed at him. Yeah. That was his boss. He'd sorta been around for a bit today, even if he'd been trying not to cross her path much.

"Let me know if y' need anythin', ma'am." He hoped the implied I will drag her out and kick her to the curb if you want came across well enough as Sveta lured the pressuccubus away. That was wise considering the... everything.

A splash sent Noel scanning the crowd again. Yellow alert didn't just turn off and it was getting old being not herself.

Once it was just him and just her, Noel closed ranks with Michael and crossed his hands in front of his suit, grasping at the wrist. He didn't have to play bodyguard. The guys kept telling him over and over that he was de-aged and this event was in part for him. Even now he was getting rolled eyes from the fringe security.

"Did you want to get wet?" He wasn't about to suggest a drink after what Michael did at the wedding. There were too many cameras and not enough apologies in the world to puke at two parties in a row.

This cause hit close to home because he was currently in that home. A de-aged home and while normally he wouldn’t volunteer his time he thought it was for a good cause. Not to mention it was one of the few things he could offer other than money and who wouldn’t want to purchase some time with in his opinion the best X-Man.

After a little light convincing he managed to talk Ami into being his plus one for the event unfortunately for Sam as soon as he got there his dated vanished. After he changed from the lockers he did the first thing anyone who didn’t really know anyone would do. He hit the bar and technically while he was de-aged he also had his new i.d. saying he was over the legal drinking age.

”Whiskey and if you could follow it up with a beer.” please and thank you. It wasn’t that he was nervous; he knew he looked good in his American flag swimsuit with the screaming eagle covering the front. It was the coolest thing he could think of other than one of nothing but penguins carrying little trays of champagne.

No he was more nervous because he volunteered himself and his older self for the auction and what’s more embarrassing than not going for a high price? Standing there like an idiot while it was going on. So if no one bid on him well, he’d at least have a good time while it was going on. Sam slammed his whiskey and chased it with his beer before turning and searching the event to see if there was anyone other than Ami he knew.

Ami it seemed already managed to start mingling with… great Serena was here too. Guess he wasn’t walking that way. Looking around he also saw the guy that liked to use his man cave as a baby changing room and then he spotted the red hair that probably belonged to mo-Becca. He decided to give her a night off from him and didn’t go say hello. More than likely Gawain/Maya were somewhere around there as well.

Sam looked back to the tender gave a slight nod and said, ”See you shortly.” Normally he’d go find a tub full of women and flirt it up till he at least got one on number however he was kinda/sorta seeing Cora so that was a no go. So instead he decided to go find a semi empty tub to hop in. Away from most of the people he knew.

There were a few semi/empty tubs and while the water was warm his beer was not thanks to his iced over hand.

Noel and Michael moved away, allowing Sveta privacy with the reporter. No one really ever wanted to hang close by when reporters were involved. Well, at least Sveta managed to seat herself at the bar in a way that L was mostly out of sight (but not out of mind) with her hedonistic floaties.

Also, Noel's Texas accent made a lot more sense now that she was side by side with Michael. She would have to ask about that later. For now, she had to control the interview situation.

>>"Absolutely. You're the boss. I'm not opposed to giving Haven the glowing spotlight treatment. Yay awareness! But I'll be honest with you, my boss sent me here to see what happened to the guy who used to be the face. You know Mr. Haven himself. Er- Hadden. I meant Hadden."

Of course.
This was not the first time Sveta heard that question, but she especially hated hearing it from the press. Still, Haven's PR people helped her come up with a plausible response. She chuckled the little at the slip. She doubted Devon would mind being called Mr. Haven. Actually, the idea was quite amusing.

"Oh I'm sure he'd appreciate the name. Nothing happened to him" she answered with a half-shrug, waving a hand for drinks "He is just very busy. A hands-on kind of guy, you know? Likes to personally make sure everything is going well, on time, as planned..." she waved a hand again. She was feeling kind of relaxed in the presence of this Spencer woman. She seemed to be one of those people who put other people at ease. And this was all off the record anyway, right? "He is supervising some Haven project out of town. So, all you get tonight is me."

Ranger gave Spencer a broad smile. Regardless of what Spencer had meant, it certainly was excellent to have more Texans somewhere. It helped the world make more sense when you had a higher concentration of people who made sense.

After Svetlana pulled Spencer away, Noel moved in closer to Ranger and took a standard security stance. It was a less carefree stance than Ranger would have taken in the same situation. Ranger, however, was one to practice a doe-dee-doe. Look more unassuming than you are so people underestimate you. Ranger’s body’s physique made that more difficult. It left posture as how it looked less intimidating.

Ranger stood there, one hand holding her glass around navel level and she set her other on her hip. Following a week as Noel that included acquiring several women’s memories and some instruction in playing the part of a woman from Evelyn and her echoes, Ranger’s posture was noticeably more feminine than it had been at the wedding.

Noel asked if Ranger wanted to get wet. ”Yes.” Ranger said, ”After this week, I think a relaxin’ dip is just what the doctor ordered.” She looked over the hot tubs for a moment and took a step toward them before turning her head back to Noel, ”Want t’ get a drink an’ then join me in one?” Ranger asked before holding up her glass, ”The tea’s good."

There were plenty of hot tubs and some were still unclaimed or only had one or two people at them. Ranger opted for an empty one. She dipped her toe in to test the water. It was warm, as promised. She stepped down into the hot tub and after sitting on one of the benches lining the walls, put her elbows up on the floor of the room and let her head lean back. Hot tub was certainly what the doctor ordered.

The black limousine jerked to a halt about half a block from the building Haven was using to host the event. It halted not because it had arrived, but rather because it had encountered an unexpected obstacle in its path. A young adult in a black leather jacket and jeans. The brakes squealed.

The woman in the back of the vehicle lurched forward in her seat, clutching at the console beside her for stability with one hand, and steadying her glass of white wine with the other. From her vantage, she did not see the young woman. She only felt the sudden stop, and the moment of momentous silence afterwards. Then. She rolled the dividing window between her and the driver down.

“Pierce,” the woman asked. Her voice quavered slightly. She was in her 50s or 60s, with a short bob of brown and gray hair and a face that had smile lines at the mouth and eyes. A beautiful diamond necklace hung at her throat. “What happened?” She asked.

The driver was about the same age, with neatly cut black hair and a riding cap. He looked back at her nervously, brown eyes flicking toward her, and towards the street ahead.

“Miss. There was a young girl. She darted in front of me as I began to pull up, and—“

“Oh my god. Is she hurt? You hit her?” The woman asked, panicked.

“That is the thing,” he said, and his French accent slipped into the statement, adding flare. “The way she moved. It was almost like... well, almost like she jumped. Or flew. Rolling over the hood, like it was some sort of dance. Controlled. And then—“ He gulped.

There was a knock on the back passenger side door of the limousine. The woman in back pressed a button and rolled the window down.

”So, you hit me.” The young brunette said mildly. Her voice had an almost Spanish-sounding tone to it as she spoke. ”But I am alright. I noticed in time. Do not worry. I am not even going to be late to the party. You should tell your driver to be more careful though. He could really have hurt someone.”

The woman stared at the young girl. The accent was wrong, but the face... there was something about the face. Like seeing a ghost. Her own face paled slightly. Who was this girl...?

—

Lenna blinked at the woman. She was going to reply, yes? No. It seemed as if she was simply going to sit there looking fearful, and... pensive was maybe the word? Uncertain?

”Hello?” Lenna said. ”Are you going to apologize so we can move on with our night? The party... the people at the mansion said I just had to go. You are probably going too.”

She had wanted her Cowboy to come but he had been tied up. Or else, maybe she had forgotten to tell him. This having a boyfriend thing was still new! up. ”If you are just planning to sit there and say nothing,”She continued. ”So we cannot be done here, maybe I actually will contact—“ Part of her really wanted to say policia. But people thought her using that word was weird. So after a moment of hesitation, Lenna finished with “The police.”

If the woman was unrepentant, maybe this “running people over” thing was less an accident and more a wild game. Was she worth ten points? Twenty? For her, at least, she believed the value needed to be much much higher than 20. Perhaps, 50 points? Due to the difficulty of actually being hit. Part of that was her luck. Part of that had been her skill at knowing how to take a hit, and roll with it.

“No. No. Sorry. I just— you looked familiar and—“

”Oh.” Lenna’s face fell. “Yes. I have heard that.” She had not. But she knew her face had gotten around! Both her face from before, her other face, and the third face from yet another version of her. Memory was foggy about every one of them, but— it was weird. And... she kind of wished to keep that old life (lives?) separate from this one. Or at least, her Cowboy had wanted that. And she felt similar. So—

“What is your name?” The woman asked.

Her brow furrowed. “Um. Lenna.”

“Lenna...” the woman repeated.

What? Did she want her last name? Or... what was her last name again? She had known it when she was little, but she had only been five. The extra ID she had located at the apartment had said “Kadick?”

The other ID had said Ivy Vanderhees, but that had been a blonde woman. Not her. Why did this woman want her name again?

“Oh. Alright. Well.”

“Good night then!” Lenna turned and walked hurriedly away. So strange. Better to run away from strangeness. Before it lead her somewhere she really did not wish to go! She ran the rest of the way from where her ride had dropped her off, to the building where the party was at. Then, she flashed her identification, went inside, and changed. Never knowing she’d just been struck by the past. Not HER past, mind you. But a past.

—

The swimsuit she had picked was a one piece bathing suit. To her, it had looked stripy and orange. In reality, it was more a lime green striped with tans and yellows. Hey, it was not simple determining colors when one was functionally color blind due to one’s mutation. Short of asking someone, she was so out of luck. Thanks, Kyle. If anyone was tracking the SUPER agent’s credit card, it would not be hard to find her. And honestly, by now she was sort of counting on it. Daring SUPER to come and see her again. It had been too long, with no contact. How rude. The SUPER cellphone wouldn’t interfere with them tracking her movements, either.

She stashed her other clothes and things in a locker. Kyle’s cell, included. Then, entered the party. Her hair was down and over one shoulder. Brown, and getting longer. The sun she had been getting had made it a slightly lighter shade, but still. Brown.

Lenna looked around. People, people everywhere. So much orange. How many of these kind folks were actually wearing orange, she wondered. And then, she wandered.

As she passed a group of hot tubs, she noticed a face. A younger face than the one she had seen in the vision Ty had shared with her, of a memory. But a familiar face, all the same. A hand went up to shield the side of her face as she tactfully shied away from him and his date. No need for that tonight. Ugh. And right away?

The next tub she passed had... Sam. Lenna continued to shield her face and walk away. Nope. She wanted people she had not met.

She walked past an Asian woman in a black and white striped bikini, nearly bumped into a woman with snakes for hair a minute later, and eyed a man in a loud Hawaiian t-shirt speaking to a woman who seemed far out of his league.

She approached the bar, and ordered up a whiskey. Got a hard look, instead. Explained her age, and the ID. Got another hard look.

“No whiskey.” The bartender said harshly. “Wine.”

”I am not much of a whiner...” Lenna stated.

He eyed her, and poured her a glass of red. Lenna blinked at it for a second, then accepted the drink. She thanked them.

Lenna stepped away from the bar, and paused next to a dark- haired woman in a strapping black bikini.

”That bartender is kind of an ass,” She muttered, Columbia’s accent flavoring her words. ”Did he give you a hard time as well?”

Nothing... happened.

"That's a very non-answer answer." And for sure meant that _something_ happened. But it was clearly something they weren't going to get to today. Spencer tried not to look terribly disappointed, but she'd never been one to hide how she felt. She was, in a word, crushed. "Oh."

The bartender arrived and Spencer showed her ID to get a martini-- no. Long island iced tea-- no. A rum and coke. She needed to stay sober, but also needed something strong. But not Long island iced tea strong.

"How 'hands-on' are we talking?" Spencer chewed on what Sveta had said looking for secrets and clues and looking at it with the eyes of a rumor sleuth. But really, this whole things sounded like a sigh-worthy bust.

"Okay then, forget Hadden. That guy's old news anyway." She waved away the specter of one more boring old white guy. "Let's talk about the future. This is quite the party. Any next steps for Haven? Are you the future? Or are you the one left with the old bathwater--? Sorry. Hot tub water, I guess..." She sipped and took another look around. So, so many questions about this party.

The Super Hero got an interesting ear full as he sat in his chosen place... For one, the blonde girl's voice... It had a familiar ring to it. Where did he know her from? He hadn't gotten a good look at her face from his vantage point before, and now he had his back to her. Second, Hadden was presumed missing? The blonde woman brushed aside the reporter's questions, but often such people had a better idea of what was going on than the officials. A change of leadership... Maybe significant. Who was the new lady in charge, though...

Oh well. He would have to peek when he got a chance. For now, however, his mark was on the move. He was with a woman, but she peeled off toward the hot tubs. Now was his chance. He stood abruptly, and nudged past a few people to make his way to the young man, walking right up and smiling casually.

"Don't say a damned thing unless its in response to a direct question from me. Don't move threateningly, or you know what'll happen." He smiled and nodded, fully away that his body language didn't match his words. "Bold of you, to show up here after what you did. Not even hiding, eh?"

He looked around briefly to see if anyone had eyes on them, and then pointed toward an exit. "Gonna need you to head out to a place where we can talk alone. Unless you want to make a scene here, tough guy."

Did he look a litte different? Nahh, it was definitely him. He had a good eye for faces.

>>"That's a very non-answer answer."

"I know, isn't it great?" Sveta smirked. She had nothing against this reporter specifically, but that did not mean she had to give up details about Devon easy. Especially since she didn't know said details to begin with.

>>"How 'hands-on' are we talking?"

"I am not going to answer that." Sveta said sweetly. Drinks arrived. She was somehow feeling better about this conversation then when it started. And she sure as hell deserved a drink.

>>"Okay then, forget Hadden. That guy's old news anyway. Let's talk about the future. This is quite the party. Any next steps for Haven? Are you the future? Or are you the one left with the old bathwater--? Sorry. Hot tub water, I guess..."

"The hot tub party is a charity event" Sveta clarified with a sage nod. "And I'm not the bathwater lady. Not sure about the future. But I'm definitely the present. And since a bunch of people inside Haven and out have suddenly been de-aged, I guess I'm den mother now."

The tea was good. ”I’ll find somethin’.” She was right, of course. He just kept thinking that this charade would end. They could find out how to swap back and he could leave the security business to—

> "Don't say a damned thing…”

He opened his mouth and then shut his mouth. A joke? Without moving his head too much, he tried to look around him. No one was taking too much notice of them, but his security guys were all still in place. So this was a guest of the party or at least he’d done a great job of sneaking in.

And he was in such deep doodoo, he didn’t even know.

Noel had no clue who this was. The voice wasn't’ familiar. Nor were the threats that he was supposed to understand. He briefly considered trying out a pro wrestling move that involved head smashing, but this was a party and he was under a social contract to not spill anyone’s brains out where the press might see.

He could turn and wink. Maybe flirt a bit and… ew. No. What he liked it? He wasn’t herself and kissing in this body would gain him exactly zero advantage.

”I am indeed not hidin’. Neither’re you, I notice.” Noel raised a hand slowly, nowhere near his new friend. ”Let me jus assure my company that I’m not ignorin’ her.” He tried to get Michael’s attention with a little wave before giving a goofy mouth open thumbs up. She’d settled into a hot tub. He likely didn’t need to disturb her for this... So he turned slowly toward his new best friend.

Even seeing his face did not help. It was a very punchable face.

”That exit? All the way ov’r there? That seems real far.” In the truest spirit of malicious compliance, Noel started moving that way at the most glacial pace possible. Ohh and the bar was right there, too. ”Maybe we should get a drink first? T’ help get my strength up f’r the long journey?”

Clearly, Agnes was joking, because Vanessa lacked the kind of casual confidence required to go on a date and make out with some rando she barely knew. ”Excuse you, I only make out with full harmful intent, and only after I at least know the person for a week or two. You know, so I don’t get axe murdered. Or sent feet pics.” There was a long list of deal-breakers, so she would leave it at those two.

After mentioning Miss Grey, Nessa moved forward and almost did not notice she was leaving Agnes behind until she heard her friend’s quick footsteps rejoining her. When she got back in line, she asked for clarification, which was surprising. Agnes was not going to judge her for this, would she? ”Oh. Well, Booker didn’t get into details, but I’m pretty sure he would have told me if I got married. So ex-girlfriend. Apparently it ended messily, which is weird since none of that happened to me, really.” And honestly, she was glad for that turn of events. It would make the Mansion an awkward place for her otherwise, like moving in with Chloe or Shelby.

Vanessa took the first steps into one of the hot tubs, letting her body ease into the sudden shift in temperature as it slow-cooked her calves, then knees, then thighs. She turned back to Agnes when the insect girl dropped a surprising tidbit of information. ”No way!” She laughed. ”This must be, like, hella awkward for her, then.” In fact, sneaking a glance, Nessa did notice the redhead making a cursory look in their direction. How many exes could she have that this would happen to her twice?

Except… Nessa did know about one of Becca’s exes. ”Huh. So… Book kinda mentioned that she cheated on me with her ex-girlfriend. You don’t think?” She let the question linger, catching Agnes’s eyes if they were available, before shaking her head. ”Not that it matters. Just a crazy coincidence, either way, you know?” Chuckling nervously, she slipped into the water, submerging herself up to her shoulders.