Irritation bubbled up in Reaper’s chest like molten lava, her jaw clenching unnoticed beneath the black mask as Ditch acknowledged the cowled vigilante. It wasn’t the fact that she brushed off Reaper’s appearance with no more than a warning to the instability of their platform, nor even the fact that Ditch somehow knew they were out there the entire time she was waiting! No, as Ditch climbed up onto the railing, rocking the platform, Reaper glared at the other vigilante’s back for one sole reason.

It was [i]cold[/i] outside.

The redhead’s hands were already clenching onto the railing when her platform partner jumped off, Reaper having the presence of mind to brace herself so as to not lose her balance or pitch forward with the harsh creaking and wide swings. She deigned to abandon her post – it really was quite a strategic view – to instead lean over the railing to watch Ditch, the angle not offering the perfect view for the big reveal but enough that Reaper’s irritation was momentarily forgotten in favor of a raised eyebrow and curiosity that settled in the pit of her stomach. A sign of peace, and another female who favored a death themed vigilante costume. She definitely didn’t look the part of a greasy basement dwelling hacker, at least. Good for her.

Reaper shifted position to cross her arms on the railing’s platform as she watched the other interacting below, her blackened eyes roaming across the new person who arrived. Turn Back, if she recalled correctly. Confident at least, and-

And then Reaper’s balance was completely thrown off as she was once more almost pitched forward and off the platform, from the wall a claw bursting forth behind her back to grab onto the platform to steady it as a human wrecking ball took out a nice section of wall and part of the stage. The vigilante’s heart hammered with more than just adrenaline from the sudden rocking motion as her gaze quickly sought of the source of destruction, bristling and fingers raising. The claw at her back let go of the platform to curl into wicked points at each ‘fingertip’, ready to strike as Reaper watched the intruder, looked at the damage they had caused – even a feral looking cat darted out from underneath the stage to bolt. To be honest the only reason she didn’t strike out immediately was that the infamous Tank was very recognizable and known as a vigilante as well – and, well, she thought it was a trap at first too. Reaper just… didn’t go through a wall to find out. Honestly.

Lightning bug was the first to start interrogating Tank, Ditch chiming in shortly after. It seemed he really did just fry his brain on how to use a door or maybe not go hurdling into a trap, so Reaper dragged her attention away to look back to the door as she rubbed the bridge of her nose. Their group was swelling in numbers as the minutes passed, some she didn’t recognize – a girl in a silver mask? A guy in a hoodie who looked like he just wandered in off the streets? At least someone made a bit of an impression, though surely not as much as the big guy who hates stages, as Graffiti dropped like a dead weight from the ceiling. No broken bones, luckily. Reaper didn’t think her little first aid kit could handle it.

But oh look, more destruction in the form of a pink tag against the wall. No one was going to know they were here. Nope. No sir. Definitely no clues for that.

Reaper let out a long suffering sigh and leaned against her arms, body tense as though in preparation of another round of rocking; the claw that was once ready sinking back into the shadow cast upon the wall. If someone else decided doors were for suckers the platform might very well give way.  Seeing Raven’s Tale’s powers in action did perk Zoey up a bit beneath her mask, watching with interest as the phoenix helped Tank dislodge himself. Those poor cats would never get their home back. It seemed that there was no need to hide their presence at least, if Ditch’s words were to be believed. A base of operations? … And this is the best they could come up with? Sure it’s secluded and not many people come around, but that’s for a very good reason. This place is disgusting, and falling apart at the seams more than her favorite pair of PJs.

Surely there couldn’t be much more than this. Reaper roved her eyes along those who had arrived, all gathered around. Quite the group at least. The tall woman stood, cautious with her movements as the platform let out another forboding creak. She stepped back far enough that her feet hit shadow instead of steel as a small, solidified platform came from the wall as a small stepping stone for her to sink back into her element. Seconds after her fingers emerged from the ground at the front of the stage, using her well trained muscles to pull herself up from the shadow and to her feet in order to be a better part of the … [i]festivities[/i]. Far be it from her to give up a tactical advantage, but the gaping hole in the wall and through a back room kind of gave that away if this group [i]was[/i] on the up and up. 

One last arrival, if the purr of a motor could be trusted. Hopefully no one called the police after hearing the sounds of a building’s partial destruction – though anyone in [i]this[/i] area calling the police was almost laughable. Ah, there we go. Reaper tilted her head slowly as she followed the movements of the leather clad woman who entered. Confident, with only the slightest pause at Tank’s little incident. It wasn’t hard to recognize The Black Rose, being a fairly well known vigilante – though Reaper would never admit she hasn’t gotten wind of what her power was yet. Fashionably late and with comments about their little...[i]headquarters[/i] idea. Though if Ditch really was going where Mister Turn Back thought she was then it was far more than just an idea. Reaper didn’t like the way The Black Rose almost strolled by the wall, watching them – though admittedly most of them were gauging each other. Reaper certainly was.

At Reaper’s feet her shadow began to react once more to their master’s building irritation, transparent tendrils lazily drifting up to curl about her legs before fading like smoke in the wind. Around her some of the shadows reacted similarly, those with owners close to Reaper doing the same smoky motion. She’d be much happier once this was done and over – maybe if Umbra was a nice dog and died quickly Reaper wouldn’t look like an ass for not wanting to remove her mask. Not that it much mattered if Ditch decided to spill their secrets in order to get that ‘awkward’ little part out of the way. Just the thought sent a shudder down her spine, though outside her thoughts Reaper remained a stoic and silent sentinel. It [i]was[/i] her trademark, after all.