Then a gas line damaged by Arsenal's many bullets exploded beneath Zach too quickly for him to perceive it. He was engulfed in flame and shrapnel, dying instantly. @solokolos

---

Margrave did the unthinkable, he pulled something from his pocket...and then it became a gun, a rather unimpressive looking weapon, but a weapon nonetheless. He unloaded and the sound of the presumably rubber bullets ringing through the drainage pipe was deafening. She gritted her teeth, the muscles in her jaw tightening. He was insane, he was clearly insane, she thought to herself, barely able to hear her own thoughts over the terrible noise, which coupled with how ineffective the attack was on Eyeblight, only proved to reinforce her opinions about the Ward. Granted, his power didn't appear to be entirely useless.

Then Margrave went down, causing her to wince slightly. It hadn't looked like a good fall. Her attention however, remained locked on Eyeblight. In preparation for his approach she retracted one half of her staff. The villain then foolishly took the time to utter a child's rhyme. She took a step closer to Eyeblight, her eyes slightly unfocused while she used all her senses to try to predict him. There was the beginning of a wrist motion as he began to say a word. It started with 'y'. Probably 'you,' her mind surmised before she thrust her staff out, and extended it in the same action. The knife flicked forwards from his wrist, entering the field in moments. As it did she fully extended her staff, intersecting the knife's path and almost certainly knocking it from its original trajectory. However, she didn't let the movement stop, instead taking a step towards Eyeblight, her staff making a tiny circle to be on the opposite side of the knife, before she flicked it hard against the knife and sent it flying past Messiah by several feet, and into the darkness further in the tunnel or so she hoped. With that done, she took a stance mostly in front of Messiah, though the girl would be able to see past her right side, and thus be able to aim that way as well. Her field informed her of Messiah and Margrave's exact positions, with Margrave being on the ground in front of her and to her left by 2 or so meters with Messiah being about the same amount of distance behind her (2 meters(6 feet)). The shadow of her projection expanded about a meter or so past them, giving her a decent amount of space to analyze and predict in.

Not sure exactly how to handle Eyeblight, Evelyn waited, though she was not entirely inactive while she did so. Mustering her courage, she spoke up, "Messiah, make the heat pinpricks in size, if you can, and aim at and around him. Multiple points of contact. Aim for limbs if you can." She didn't say it loudly, the volume such that hopefully only Messiah would hear--though with the acoustics of the drainage pipe that was sadly quite unlikely. She had turned her head slightly, so her voice would better carry to her teammate, but the whole while she kept her eyes on Eyeblight, or...around him at least.

She hoped he wouldn't try to take Margrave hostage.

The clock continued to count down, now at 50 seconds. She made sure not to lose track.

After taking the bottle from Macavity's hands she stood still for a moment. A brief respite to see if this cape really wasn't going to do anything to her. But it appeared that he was staying true to his word and that he meant no harm to her. It was still a strange encounter but he seemed genuine to Cassidy. Or at least he seemed like he wouldn't immediately throw her under the bus. After all he did declare himself a thief and he had a strange way of talking. "Thanks..." With that she sat down against the nearby wall of the alley, opening the Gatorade bottle and chugging it down as if her life depended on it. The drink wasn't exactly cold but it wasn't warm either, making it easy to empty the entire bottle over the course of several seconds. She was definitely thirsty.

Cassidy let out a sigh of relief after she finished her drink, using her left sleeve to wipe her lips of the remaining juice that didn't quite make it into her mouth. It felt good nonetheless and she was surprisingly effective at avoiding any spills despite her speed. But with that out of the way she looked back up to Macavity. Or more specifically: at the sandwich and muffin he was still holding. Now that she sat down she couldn't just snatch them from his hands again, due to limited reach, but instead she held out her free hand towards him. It was petty and desperate and normally she would feel ashamed but this wasn't a normal circumstance. "I'm not even sure what situation I'm in right now," she finally confessed. "I was kidnapped by those people. All I remember was that someone hit me in the back of the head with something heavy, back in Chicago. Then I woke up inside some... thing. They put me in a box and put the box in a truck. I must've been in it for days..." For some reason she was beginning to feel more and more trust towards Macavity. Perhaps because he was the first cape she ever met and he was being overtly friendly. Perhaps because she felt there wasn't much she had to lose from her current position.

"They were moving the box I was in and I felt it get lifted up by a forklift. Something inside me told me it was 'now or never' and I started throwing my weight around. It worked, I broke the thing holding me and now I'm here..." Cassidy lowered her arm now, letting it rest against her knee as she took a quick look around the alley. "I don't even know where here is... Where am I, anyways? Oh! Do you have a phone I can borrow too?" It had occurred to Cassidy that her family must be worried sick about her. Of course she also wanted to call the police but considering that she appeared to be safe right now it wasn't such a pressing matter. Also wouldn't help that she had no idea where she was even at so it'd be difficult to explain her location. Just as she was about to say something more a white van drove down the street next to the alleyway, entirely distracting Cassidy and causing her to freeze in fear from the noise of the passing engine. But, despite the fact she and Macavity were in the open, it seemed that whoever drove by didn't notice. Of course she was also being paranoid. Odds were the van had nothing to do with the people who kidnapped her. But presently it seemed the only friend she was going to have for the near future was a parahuman cat burglar.

With the vehicle gone and no longer audible, the young girl let out a sigh. "I never wanted to be here, ya know. In the whole parahuman scene. I don't know how I was discovered by these people... but I have a sinking feeling that my life is ruined. As if everything has changed now, ya know? I don't like it..." Now that Cassidy had been calming down and her adrenaline was running out she realized something: she had to use the restroom. Of course this would be far too embarrassing to ask of Macavity to help her find one right now, but now her sense of urgency that she had just escaped from began to return. Of course she would just appear anxious by all outward appearances but now Cassidy had the mental note of wanting to hurry up with eating here and then moving on from this back alley to somewhere more convenient.



The flight over Denver was both expedient and uneventful. Sonika could finally breathe again as she slowed down to safe speeds, approaching the Russian warehouse from above and landing gracefully right outside the back door. Without any further ado she slammed the door open, which echoed across the warehouse and caught the attention of everyone inside. The conversations and actions taking place were temporarily put on hold as the supervillain trotted across the warehouse floor. "Nicholas," she demanded with a stern voice, continuing her path towards the scene of the crime. The man she called for arrived at her side as soon as she reached the broken containment pod. The broken splinters of the crate had already been cleaned up but the pod hadn't been moved yet.

"I already have the papers for it. The product was definitely parahuman." He handed over a few pieces of paper that had been stapled together. The front page was a standard shipping paper containing things like the weight, dimensions, and some fake information about the contents. The pages afterwards were from the Bratva's personal business, detailing the real contents of the box. Sonika took a moment to glance over it briefly. The subject was a teen girl from Chicago. Her power wasn't expressly detailed but noted to be able to make people think that time had stopped. This explained how she was able to escape undetected once the containment pod had broken. According to the papers the men who obtained her had also tied up any loose ends involving her, so to speak. There was no family or friends for her to go to now. This narrowed it down a bit.

"She might go to the police," Sonika noted aloud, handing the papers back to the middle-aged man. "Burn the security camera tapes and get your alibis ready. I will see if I can find the girl before she gets too far away. Others are already on the road searching. Continue your operations and get that truck out of here as quickly as possible. We will call San Francisco and let them know that one of them escaped and we will get it to them with the next shipment. Do not talk about this to anyone who does not need to know, got it?" Her tone was commanding and harsh, intimidating to say the least. The man named Nicholas nodded his head in understanding. "Good." With that she began walking away. As quickly as Sonika had arrived she was already leaving. Once outside she took off into the air again. This time, however, she refrained from going high speed. Instead she flew quite low, being just barely above the rooftops of the factories and warehouses of the area. She also kept her speed similar to that of any cars that drove below, going about forty miles-per-hour at the most. This allowed her to breathe while she was flying without going too slow. But more importantly it allowed her to search.

Nobody knew exactly how far she could've gotten because everyone's sense of time had been thrown off with the girl's great escape. But Sonika figured she had to be within a five minute run from the warehouse about now. She didn't even bother checking the nearest alleyways and roads as surely other people would check closer to their center of operations. She went straight towards the outskirts of the district and began searching from there. Unfortunately for Sonika she had unwittingly passed over her target, whom was invisible anyways even if the supervillain had looked down. Her senses of the air current couldn't pick up Macavity or Cassidy thanks to his power and as such she flew right overhead. It was unlikely the pair in the alley even noticed her go by, just as she failed to notice them. A bitter irony that Sonika would later regret.

Well, Margrave's rubber bullets at least did a fair amount of damage to the thugs behind Eyeblight. She imagined those would be rather a nuisance to the other assault team on the other end of the tunnel too... as for Eyeblight himself, he was barely fazed even after losing an arm, and punished Margrave by knocking him on his ass, then reattaching his arm like nothing had ever happened. And dammit all, he was avoiding Messiah's own heat beams like nobody's business! Those were invisible and extremely fast! What did it take to stop this guy?

'Team, we have a problem,' she heard Sonar declare, as though he were right next to her rather than many meters away. 'Something happened the moment the hostages were moved. I'm hearing something new. Tick tick tick tick.' Messiah's eyes widened at that... a bomb? Was the drain pipe itself wired, or was it one of the hostages? All of them, maybe? Crap, she didn't know. Somebody needed to try and defuse that thing, and she certainly couldn't do it. 'We're slightly preoccupied over here, I'm afraid!' she whisper-shouted, quiet enough that Eyeblight hopefully wouldn't hear, forceful enough to make the point.

Then Eyeblight threw the knife, directly toward Messiah herself. Tulpa moved to deflect it, but even as she did, the robed girl had begun momentarily emitting a great quantity of heat, mostly directed up and down from her front like a force field. If the knife kept moving in a straight path, it'd melt and collapse into a blob, or maybe droplets, of liquid almost immediately, and even if the molten object still reached her, it'd be slowed enough by its own loss of structural integrity and somewhat-aerodynamic shape that it'd probably not even damage the body armour underneath her robe. That, and it'd resolidify into a useless lump of metal and plastic on contact as her body sucked all the heat away from it. Even if it missed, it'd probably still melt as it passed her, and probably be spilled across the floor of the sewer pipe as a result, just as useless as before.

Either way, once the wall of heat had dissipated, Tulpa had ended up largely in front of her, whilst Margrave had found himself a ways further forward from there, retreating some distance so as to... build a wall of LEGO bricks? Knowing Margrave, this would probably be rather more dangerous than it looked, but Messiah couldn't begin to imagine how. Or hadn't the time to do so, rather. Tulpa was already giving out instructions for her plan: 'make the heat pinpricks in size', 'aim at and around him', 'multiple points of contact', 'aim for limbs'. Was that right? Shouldn't she be figuring out a plan herself? Shouldn't that be her duty as leader?

She'd need to come up with something herself if she wanted to deal with this guy, but for now, she was sure Tulpa's plan might work well enough. And, well... after that outburst of temperature, she wasn't exactly running on a full tank. She'd be fine for the moment, but if she had to resort to UV radiation... well, that probably wouldn't affect Eyeblight to begin with, but it'd be far more insidiously dangerous than a beam of heat if she accidentally struck a companion. So, pinpricks of heat; she could send out very concentrated heat spots, potentially starting minute fires on Eyeblight's body if they hit, but if he could dodge heat beams, he could probably dodge those too... he might not notice them for how small they were by comparison, though. It was worth a shot, at least, and might give her the time she needed to think. As she moved slightly to the right just to ensure she didn't strike Tulpa, she began rapidly sending the heat bursts forth as instructed by Tulpa, aiming both around him to cut off escape routes and at his limbs to cause damage, hot enough to sear flesh on contact, and certainly hot enough to set dry straw alight.

---

As Lovely made their way to the enterance of the Icehouse, they noticed two adults standing there. Headhunter and Chatterbox they would assume, judging by their builds. They probably ought to have dressed down too, come to think of it, but they supposed it didn't matter all that much since they weren't wearing anything armored. "Nice of you to join me, soldier." Lovely said, greeting Headhunter. As Chatterbox eyed them though, they gave a more professional response. "Ah. I see you're here too. We'd best be off, yes?"

Raymond nodded toward Love Craft with his arms folded and his face set in a relatively stern expression. 'We probably should, yes. I will say,' he added, 'I don't want to be mistaken as an unsavoury individual of any sort, considering our visible differences, so if anybody asks, you're my step-niece and step-nephew respectively.' This would be to help deal with the sort of people- blessedly rare as they were compared to even ten years ago- who disliked black people, and would surely raise a fuss if one was seen with two substantially younger individuals of much different race to himself. They'd probably be just as upset about an implied interracial marriage, but better that than accusations of sexual assault and pedophilia. That said, he began walking away from the Icehouse building, figuring that for right now, any direction was probably fairly good for attempting to find Arsenal.

Making a mock salute at Lovecraft as he said they ought to depart, he made a note of the formality behind his words in comparison to how the cape had greeted Headhunter. In fact, the action elicited a small "Heh," from him before he turned his attention to Headhunter as he spoke up. After hearing him out, he nodded, a slightly amused smile on his lips, Drake followed Raymond, assigning a pseudo-leadership role to the man even though Lovecraft had suggested the outing.

Walking more or less alongside their mercenary companion, Drake spoke up, his tone casual. "So any ideas as to how we locate this fellow?"

Quickly redirecting some of the, frankly out of place, muscle into added height to match the two adults they were tagging along with, Lovely too joined Chatterbox in walking alongside Headhunter. "Aww, so I can't call you 'daddy'? A shame. Anywho, I suppose just walking towards the inner city is our best bet. Broker didn't seem to include any possible leads but he has a fairly distinctive appearance." Lovely explained, taking the letter out of their pocket to examine it. Must have contained the new member's pay. Maybe a description of tomorrow's job, too. If so, Lovely would be sure to take a look. They actually hadn't seen what they were going to be doing tomorrow. Slipping the letter back into their chaps in favor of the photograph of their mark, Lovely handed it over to Headhunter. "You're good at tracking people right? Where would a young man like that be if he had just entered a city?"

Finding himself rather pleased by Lovecraft's words, Drake chuckled to himself, though he knew they weren't joking about calling Headhunter daddy. Still, it was pretty ludicrous. As the androgynous cape went on, Drake raised an eyebrow, letting them finish before he spoke again. "Inner city sounds as good as anywhere else. Upside, is I can always use my charms to convince people to remember if they've seen anyone of his...distinctive appearance. So there's that."

Raymond coughed somewhat uncomfortably at the word "daddy" - obviously not meant in the sense of a parent-child relationship, and with how Love Craft apparently went about in general, he could hardly tell whether the flirting was genuine or not. Even so, as he was handed the photograph, he considered the possible options. He was trained in tracking down targets, both in the field and under more urbane conditions, though not on such minimal information or within such a short timeframe.

In a pinch, the inner city seemed like a reasonable choice. 'I think I'm inclined to agree with... pardon me, I don't believe I got your name?' he murmured, turning to Chatterbox. He didn't really want to use his cape name when he was out of costume, and figured if he could get the young adult to reveal his real name, he might end up with some leverage later on. 'In any case, that'd be where a large portion of Denver's crime is committed, so I imagine he's either involved in or attempting to prevent it. Presumably the former, but you never know.'

Drake glanced towards Headhunter as he agreed and then inquired about his name. He tilted his sunglasses down, peering over them to give the man a pointed look before returning them to their former position, smiling, and ignoring him for a time. "Yes it would make sense that he would be there." He seemed to think for a moment before glancing at Headhunter, "Call me James, mmm?" He beamed at him for a moment before looking away, eyes aimed forwards.

Frankie considered "James's" statement for a moment. It was probably a fake name, all things considered. When a known assassin asked your name, it wasn't a good idea to be truthful. Still, it was something to call him out of costume, so for now, it was good enough. "Well, if we're all trading names, I'm Fran." Frankie lied, a cartoon-y grin on their face. "What's yours, soldier? I'm not the kind to kiss and tell, so you have nothing to worry about." They joked. Honestly, Headhunter's real name didn't matter to Lovely all that much, but they needed to call them something when they weren't wearing a mask. Even if they could easily change their face, they didn't want to lose their new job or place, and being associated with a well known criminal was a good way to get evicted.

The name was obviously fake. If "James" had really been caught out, he'd have given the name almost immediately, rather than taking a second to think about it. "Fran" also seemed to be lying, their name again preceded by a moment of thought. It might be an idea to figure out who they really were later on. That said, he needed to provide his own name now... fake, again, but maybe he could trick them with a more complete name. Probably not, but it was worth a shot. 'Jack Selser,' he stated, using a pseudonym that he'd abandoned some time in the past when out on prior missions, and which he ought to have dropped, but it was the first name to slide easily off his tongue. 'Glad to know we're all being honest.'

Frankie openly giggled at "Jack's" comment. "Of course, of course." They commented, strolling a bit ahead of the two men for just a moment. "Well, I doubt we can use each others hobbies against one another. Do either of you have anything particularly interesting you do?" They asked, a bit curious as to what a hired murderer and someone as egotistical as Chatterbox did in their free time. Frankie was betting on 'reading' or 'woodcarving' for Jack and some sort of public speaking for James. His power off, obviously, just to prove to himself that he was sly or something like that. "I myself enjoy sweet foods as a sort of gourmet. Though I doubt you could tell by my figure." Frankie explained, shaking their hips in a suggestive manner for emphasis.

Once again, Raymond couldn't really tell whether "Fran" was flirting as a joke, or in a serious fashion. Either way, he couldn't help but glance at their backside as they shook their hips, before forcing himself to stare straight ahead. He had standards that he held potential partners to; unfortunately, Fran was meeting all of them, at least in terms of physique. But that was neither here nor there. 'I build scopes,' he offered in response to Fran's question. 'I got good at that to help my career. And yes, they are hideously complex to work with.'

James chuckled to himself, ignoring 'Fran's' behavior for the most part. He was about as interested as Fran was in him. "I do stand-up comedy," he said simply in response to Fran's question. He glanced around, before continuing, "I tend to switch venues frequently, some with my charms, some without. I figure it's best to expand my influence while also doing what I love." He shrugged a bit, glancing at Fran before looking to 'Jack'. "Scopes, eh? Interesting choice of hobby, though I suppose it makes sense...considering." He smiled slightly, almost as if amused by some inside joke.

Frankie smiled. They were pretty close with their assumption on both of the men's hobbies. Scope building was certainly quite interesting. Standup comedy was quite obvious though, though Frankie was quite surprised that only sometimes he used his ability. Frankie figured him as a fairly all or nothing guy, but it seemed he may have been able to cut their losses.

There was a slight silence after James's comment, which no one seemed to want to fill. As talkative as two out of three of the group were, it seemed they didn't have much to talk about. Or maybe they just didn't trust eachother enough yet. They were all using fake names, after all. Something impersonal to talk about...

"Ahh, what do you suppose we call this little gang? Since James wants to make a name for himself, I assume we want something catchy. Any suggestions, gentlemen?"

'"The Gentlemen" isn't a bad start,' Raymond offered, 'if not for the lack of gentlemanly conduct and distinct presence of at least one female party. Not that the additional irony wouldn't be appreciated.' He stroked his beard for a moment, frowning as he thought of the possibilities, as well as allowing a convenient opportunity for a couple of civilians to pass by without their overhearing anything. 'The Takers, perhaps, since that seems to be what we're doing with ourselves? Undertakers, maybe, but for minimising our death tolls.'

The name of their little gang, mmm.... Drake was quiet, though he did glance at Fran, acknowledging their question, before his eyes moved back to watch their path and search for anything unusual. He gave a sidelong glance at 'Jack' as he spoke, before his eyes returned to their former position. He ran over what sorts of capes, and people, Broker had brought together.

'A quiet girl who can ignore things; A comedian with a hypnotic voice; An assassin with impossibly perfect aim; An androgynous shapeshifter scientist; and...a tinker with a sombrero.' He smirked a bit as he considered the last two, before something clicked in his mind and he spoke. "What about the Misfits?" he suggested casually before his voice rang out again, "...or perhaps Bohemian?" he offered as an alternative. While he liked 'the Gentlemen,' it was a bit too ironic for his tastes, whereas 'the Takers,' was just a bit...well, stupid, in his opinion.

Frankie listened to their allies suggestions with a sort of blank, but attentive look on their face. None of them popped. The Gentlemen was very ironic- too ironic for Lovely's taste. Takers or Undertakers were silly, Misfits generic and Bohemian pretentious. What they needed was something simple, clean, and unique. Wracking their brain for such a concept, they looked over at both James and Jack to see if they had any other ideas. But then, it hit them. "Ah, the Jacks! We do a little of everything, right? It's a nice, simple, catchy name, but not silly or unable to be taken seriously." They suggested, a glint in their eye. They were a bit proud of coming up with the idea honestly, even if there were important things to do.

"Hmm, I like that more," Drake replied, nodding his head thoughtfully, before smiling. "I think it fits best, and it's certainly catchy enough." He glanced at 'Jack,' wondering what he thought.

'That sounds like it's setting myself up for a leadership role,' Raymond noted. 'Though in fairness, it's probably better than the Takers. Now that I think about it, that seems odd at best.' He frowned again for a moment, then had an abrupt and suspicious thought, and glanced toward the two others. '...are you two trying to set me up as leader? "Leader", rather, but the person with the biggest target on them nonetheless.' There was a good reason he'd avoided notoriety to the best of his ability before the Broker approached him: well-known assassins, at least outside of the right fields, tend to die quickly. If it became known that the Headhunter was "heading" a cape organisation, two and two would be put together very quickly indeed, and his life would become far more difficult than it already was.

Drake glanced at the assassin, raising a brow, "Hardly," he said bluntly in response.

"Yes," Lovely agreed, in reply to James. "You're Headhunter on the clock, remember? Though I suppose putting a man with your attitude in charge makes the most sense. I'd be willing to take any heat for you, since that seems to be the issue. I'm more of a front-line fighter after all."

'...fair enough,' Headhunter conceded. 'It's my job to be observant, though perhaps not to the point of undue paranoia, for which I apologise.' And speaking of observation, he'd noticed that they'd gotten to the inner city reasonably quickly... and moreover, that what sounded like a very heated gun battle was taking place relatively nearby. 'Gunfire,' he stated bluntly. 'Do we think that's our guy?'

"Well if it isn't," Lovely stated with a perky expression, "Then it'll lead us to him."

As Dean glanced back at her, Epsilon smiled at him, proud of the small amount of protection she could offer. The smile disappeared as Tulpa’s projection moved past them, her eyes locked on the creature. She glanced back in time to see Eyeblight attacking Messiah and Tulpa.

A wave of nausea traveled across her body, and she doubled over with her hand over her mouth. Right, watching Eyeblight was not a good idea. Epsilon sighed, closing her eyes tight as she focused on not losing the contents of her stomach. Sonar announced to the group that something had changed, and. . . .tick tick tick tick? Epsilon’s eyes flew open as she glanced in the direction Tulpa’s projection had headed. A bomb? She moved towards that direction quickly, or as fast as she could. The damp tunnel made her deeply uncomfortable, chilling her to the bone rather quickly. It didn't help that this area was naturally cooler than the rest of the city.

She came out on the other side along with Tulpa’s projection and the hostages. Epsilon resisted the urge to stare at Tulpa's creation, and began searching the hostages. Where is it? Where is it?” She mumbled, ignoring the protests of the hostages. Most didn’t resist, even if she didn’t have a Legend-esque aura. Her objective based problem solving gave her an aura of purpose despite her unimposing figure. She glanced up at the new Ward's projection momentarily, but shook her head as if to literally shake away the distraction

Watching her take the drink without any heinous injuries inflicted upon himself relived the thief quite heavily, it seemed that he could relax just a slightly bit more without worrying about her power freezing the man without an indefinite time limit on that freezing. Though, as she chugged down the drink like a champ, the little bottle didn't seem to fully quench her thirst as the signs of fatigue was still etched into the eyes of the girl. He wondered how long she was trapped in that futuristic pod, there was also the fact of who she was as that girl could be some rampaging murderer trapped by the Bratva to use for their nefarious purposes. Or maybe she could be just some unlucky person found by the Bratva at the wrong place and time. Macavity shrugged to himself, it didn't exactly matter at the moment as he didn't detect any blood lust from the individual and also stealing live parahuman cargo from the Bratva seemed exciting enough compared to immobile and heavy pieces of priceless artworks.

Macavity found himself lost in thought for a bit longer than he had intended, that only ended when the girl suddenly outstretched her arm towards him, staring desperately at the remaining food within his hands. "Ah, you want the rest of this complete meal? Well, can't really deny a healthy snack time for a growing child." Macavity said, walking towards her placing the last two food pieces within her arms reach, "Though, I wouldn't have started with the drink as getting rid of the muffin from your mouth can be quite a hassle without a drink to wash it all away." Placing the food within her outstretched hand, the mysterious little abductee finally started to talk without any threatening involved in her sentence which was a good sign that he was starting to gain her trust.

"Oh? Chicago is quite a way from where we are at the moment," Macavity stated, "That is a good... 1000 mile drive away from there to Denver." Continuing to listen to the story, Macavity wasn't too sure about the validity of the theory of her being an evil monster of destruction, but rather the latter theory of her just being in the wrong place and time. By the end, it seemed that she wanted something else of the thief rather than just the food, she wanted a phone. He could only assume that her objective was to obviously call someone important to her after the whole situation that she had found herself inside. The only people that this unassuming girl could make would be her guardians from her pre-abduction life. Macavity shot a glance at his tote bag for a moment, he did have a phone on him, but wasn't too sure to give the device to the girl. It wasn't in spite of her or anything, but from the stories that he had heard himself about the Bratva in shady areas, it was that they didn't leave many loose ends in their day-to-day operations. Well... What harm could it be? The worst case scenario is that her guardians are dead and they don't anwser the phone to their desperate daughter trying to contact her only family. Ok, that sounds just a tiny bit harsh but at least her rampage wouldn't start with himself right next to the source of that said rampage. "Yeah, I think I have something like that for you, hang on tight," Macavity said, reaching into his tote bag once again.

Rummaging through his things, Macavity ignored the passing white van and was completely unaware to the fact of the flying villain searching for the two invisible individuals, but he had finally found the device in the unorganized tote bag. "Here we are! Found that..." Macavity stopped, watching her freeze in place with a look of fear. He quickly turned his head around the empty alleyway to find nothing of the sort around the two, and he cocked his head at the frozen girl. "Huh... Maybe it has something to do with her powers?" Macavity mumbled to himself, watching her inside of that frozen state until her eyes started to rapidly blink while heaving out a large sigh. After that, she seemed to go on about her life after the life altering event, and he was sure that after being kidnapped from the Bratva, some things in her life were definitely going to change for most likely the worse. "Uh... Look, I'm not that great with these kind of things, but just know that when life seems to push you down doesn't mean that you just have to sit down and take it," Macavity stated, giving his profound wisdom to the child that will most likely have a severely messed up childhood for the rest of her life. "So, you just got to look at the good little things in life to get you going through the slog," Macavity said, handing over the disposable phone over to the stranger, "Like this for example."


Escaping from the crime scene, he pushed away the swarming crowds wanting to know the situation that had happened in the destroyed alleyway. He was sure that no one had seen him escape from the crime scene, excluding from the mystery kid and that annoying cape known as Necro. As Arsenal pushed against the crowd, he was actually slightly relived that he didn't go with the plan of assaulting the home base of the PRT with the pitiful amount of weapons that he had upon his body. Sure, it could mow down just about any normal army of regular humans, but it was seen that he couldn't even kill just one single parahuman that he had both surprised and had even a number advantage against the guy! He would have to upgrade his body further if he ever wanted to fight with the big leagues, he had underestimated the power of parahumans thinking that they would just fall under his unstoppable hail of bullets, but even his partner literally had stopped the bullets in their tracks with his rather powerful superhuman ability. He sighed to himself, he was going to need a base of operations with a steady source of income to maintain his arsenal of weapons with added upgrades to the weapon cache in his body.

Pushing his way out of the crowd, finally managing to shove his way out of the sea of civilians wanting to see the scene of battle. Arsenal was still lost in thought to his latest "victory" and the future prospects of his goal, and didn't seem to notice the odd trio walking on the adjacent side of the road. Still briskly walking, trying to avoid attention as much as a tall sombrero and poncho wearing human could possibly achieve. Though, it would be quite obvious to the group searching for the individual to spot him across the street, though it would be dangerous to single him out of the crowd as he tried to dodge attention from the murmuring crowds of curious people wanting to know the situation at the alleyway further down the road.

Near the drainpipe exit, the three Wards ran out to deal with whatever problem the hostages were experiencing thanks to Sonar's warning. Inside Martyr left two of his doppelgangers to deal with the remaining mooks that had decided they were just done with this fight after getting shot at. It was an understandable reaction to be sure, but they were criminals all the same and had to be stopped. Four gangbangers, two Martyrs. How would they match up? Well it was definitely good that the area was enclosed so tightly, else the Martyrs would have been flanked and surrounded. As it was, they could deal with two at a time directly in front of them. The Community members fought with all the skill of someone press-ganged against their will, completely unsuccessfully. Meanwhile the Martyrs summoned actually had some legitimate battle experience, real training, and genuine skill. The four gang members traded blows for only a small amount of time before they were knocked back on their asses, but it was long enough for the two doppelgangers to run out of time.

Outside the pipe, the hostages were still tied together in a train formation by the neck, burlap sacks around their heads. Sonar, Martyr, and Epsilon rushed out to assist with whatever problem Sonar had found with his hearing, something implied to go boom if left unchecked. Hoo boy, this was a problem. While Epsilon caught on to the implications, Martyr did not and so he asked Sonar just what was going on. The Ward leader was about to answer, just as the team tinker discovered something. Beneath the burlap sacks, collared around the hostages' necks were bombs. Home made by the look of them, shoddy in design, but they got the job done. A cursory inspection told the young tinker that these were set to detonate both by remote, and by proximity. By the looks of things, Tulpa's manifestation had moved the hostages just far enough to activate the explosives, but not quite enough to send the detonation signal. Well this was bad news bears.

Meanwhile back inside the drainpipe, Eyeblight continued his battle against the other half of the Wards. Margrave managed to get a little distance between himself and the villain while the straw being shifted his focus, and fortunate that was too. Tulpa stepped in to deflect Eyeblight's combat knife, but to no avail. The villain laughed and whipped his hand upward and the knife did the same. In that instant, through the darkness of the tunnel, through the bright light emanating from Messiah, Tulpa sensed something she had missed before. The sensory input allowed by her manifestation's shadow told her the knife was connected to something. A long line of some kind of fibrous material. Straw. Eyeblight had wrapped a line of straw around the handle, turning the knife into a long ranged whip! The knife came back down, from up above the heat barrier Messiah had created to protect herself. The weapon itself had passed by her defense, but the line of straw controlling it burnt to a crisp, severing the connection. In response Eyeblight recoiled back letting out a small gasp of pain. So he was flammable. That didn't stop the knife from slicing down neatly on its target, however. Thankfully the loss of control from severing the line meant that the knife didn't pierce too deeply. It only created a tear in her robe, and a small flesh wound on her left arm.

Then came the Wards' counterattack. Messiah took Tulpa's advice, firing pinprick sized beams intended to restrain the scarecrow man's movements. As before, the Community lieutenant appeared to have little trouble dodging, weaving, and ducking out of the way. What did it take to stop this guy?! In a particularly graceful spin, Eyeblight noticed Margrave's new attack from behind. A wall of cinderblocks came flying toward him, something that clearly gave the man alarm. "Oh fuck you!" Rather than attempt to avoid the avalanche of heavy material, the notorious villain charged directly for it. As the wall curved and space opened up between cinderblocks Eyeblight jumped right for it. In the same motion his arms and legs kept themselves pressed as close to the main body as possible. The villain compressed himself right before everyone's eyes. The amount of space he took up was not just a fraction of what it had been before, allowing him to fit, albeit just barely, through a gap in the blocks. That is until the blocks reached the portion of his body that represented his feet. At that point the blocks closed the gap and caught him, forcing the villain to tumble down onto the ground. Eyeblight was fortunate to be practically immune to blunt physical trauma, else his ankle bones would have been shattered and his cranium fractured from the force of the fall.

That moment was all Messiah needed. Her pinpricks found their targets, pinning Eyeblight to the ground. If the straw man attempted to move around, he'd no doubt be set alight and surely burn to death. As dying was most certainly not on the man's agenda today, he dared not try to escape. The Wards had won! One of the five leaders of The Community, taken down in an impromptu surprise mission, from a fresh and brand new team! "You haven't won, little pissants! Really Eyeblight? What could he possible have up his sleeve for this? Dude had to be bluffing. Still, he was unnerving enough to look at normally. Seeing him twist his head 180 degrees to face up at the Wards while the rest of his body was still face down? Freaky. "Ever heard of The Anarchist's Cookbook? The internet is fucking awesome. So full of information you'd never have found even ten years ago. Those hostages have got bombs on 'em. Move 'em too far from me, they go boom. Don't let me go? They go boom. I've got the detonator inside my body and I can control individual strands of straw. The way I see it, you can try to go fishing inside me, or you can let me go. Hahahahaha, what will you do? I HAVE ALREADY WON, KIDS! LOOK AT ME! HAHAHAHAHA! LOOK AT YOUR BETTER!"

---

---

Decoy seemed to be at least a little relieved once Ruben had apologized and given a bow back. The hologram gave a small smile before speaking again. "It can be that easy. I wonder just how long you've been down here and what little you remember to have no idea the proper protocols and manners. Hrm. Well it's of no matter. I am a reasonable hero, I hope you can see. Be thankful it was me that detected your infiltration and not Noble or Captain Morales. They would be less... Understanding." The hologram of Decoy stroked his hairless chin for a moment pondering something. "I will see if I can arrange vehicle transportation to PRT HQ. In the meantime, please do your best not to cause any trouble? I would find myself most conflicted if I had to arrest you."

"I won't cause any trouble for risk of absolute destruction of my home and life." Honestly this was all Ruben knew. He didn't have his prosthetic anymore so leaving this bunker on his own would be risky, and about everyone in the nearby town knew him but he didn't know anyone, not even this woman who claimed he was his mom. Enough about that though, Ruben felt like he needed to clarify his actions. "In regards to manners, I've lived down here as long as I can remember, and there's not a lot of visitors down here in this bunker, so the thought of greetings and manners passes my mind... well... aside from food etiquette. I don't know why I still know that."

Martyr: Drainage Pipe ==> Outside Drainage Pipe

Looking at Epsilon with an odd look for a moment as she investigated, Dean was dumbfounded at the lack of a problem. Just as he was about to mention something, he caught a glimpse of something on the hostage's necks. Suddenly, Sonar's previous comment made sense. Bombs. They were tick tick ticking away, ready to end eight lives. He groaned at their new member's foolishness before getting to work like Epsilon, examining the collar of the person nearest to him. Home-made, it seemed, and that meant shoddy.

Drawing his blade again, Dean gently warned the man he was trying this on. "Sorry, this might hurt a tiny bit, I'm gonna try and knock the collar off." He explained, trying to get a grip on it. Once he was satisfied, he began bashing it with the hilt of his weapon, being careful not to harm the man on the receiving end. Hopefully this thing came off quick, there was no timer to tell how much leeway he had.

Love Craft: Streets of Denver

As the odd trio followed the hail of gunfire coming from an alleyway, they quickly saw a man in a suspiciously familiar sombrero on the other side of the street. "Oh, there he is!" Lovely exclaimed with glee, before crossing the road without even looking. Luckily, no cars were near, but even then they sort of made a bit of a scene, a few people looking over. Should the other two follow, they probably wouldn't get as much scrutiny considering what Lovely was wearing.

Weaving through the crowd, Lovely tried to get ahead of Arsenal to stop him. Arsenal probably wouldn't respond well to hearing shouting in his direction, so Lovely slipped ahead of him, before abruptly turning around and greeting the teen. "Hello, sir. Would you mind if we talked for a bit? I think we have a proposal for you!"

Epsilon found a collar on each hostage, and frowned at the implications. She had been hoping it was one bomb that she could move into a position where it wouldn’t harm anyone, but this complicated things. Epsilon stared at the device, hoping for the familiar feeling of her power activating, but it didn’t work. Instead of the telltale click of gaining knowledge, the feeling of a kaleidoscope changing to binoculars, she instead stared at the collars uselessly.

Dean-Er Martyr, told a hostage that it might hurt a bit, and Epsilon glanced over to see him attempting to bash the collar. Her eyes widened in surprise, as she watched, but she didn’t move to stop him. She had no idea if it would work, though she hoped it wouldn’t cause a premature detonation. Epsilon knew, vaguely, that there were two major types of bombs when it came to detonation: A lack of an electrical signal caused a detonation, and the presence of an electrical signal caused a detonation. Unfortunately she knew of no way to identify which the collars were, or even if they were a mix of the two categories. What she did know was that if they didn’t find a solution soon- Nevermind, best not to think about that.

Assault Team B Collaborative Post

The knife cut pretty deep for something haphazardly whipped round a heat field. Just a flesh wound, perhaps barely more than a scrape, but it still hurt. She'd need to get somebody to fix that... she wasn't so good at sewing, unfortunately. Still, once Eyeblight was immobilised by heatspots, Messiah melted the knife down to metal slag as she had with the gun, ensuring it couldn't be used against them again. Which only left Eyeblight himself, and his claims about the detonator, and oh, dear, that sure was a way in which it worked. Move the thing too far from the bombs, or let him detonate it himself... That... that horrible, creepy, evil... she shook her head with a disgusted groan, beginning to reason with herself about the possibilities, and looking away from him for a moment whilst maintaining the heatspots. Can't let him psyche me out, or let him actually use the detonator. He'd surely do it anyway even if he was freed, he's exactly that sort of person. If the bombs explode by getting too far away from the detonator, chances are they'll do the same if the detonator's destroyed, since the dead man's switch is a thing... wait, CRAP.

'Margrave, Tulpa, come to me. Neither of you go near him,' she stated bluntly, ordering both Margrave and, just to be safe, the more reasonable Tulpa. Margrave's power involved turning objects into toys, and she imagined turning the detonator into a plastic object would trigger a possible DMS just as easily as incinerating it would. She couldn't afford to let the impulse-driven teen have his way about that.

"Think yourselves my superiors, do you? A scarecrow and a seer, commanding intellects far beyond my own, ordering me about like some nameless peon...? I cannot help but smile." The Margrave stood, his weight on his back foot, his body facing nearly sideways, looking out of the corner of his eyes at Messiah and Eyeblight with a slightly tilted head. "When feeble imaginations fail to rise to the challenge, I alone am willing to do my duty." He swept his hand aside dismissively to condemn both his teammate and his enemy for their crime of underestimation. No doubt baffled, his allies looked upon him some varying degrees of incredulousness or apprehension. Ignoring this, the Margrave stepped forward, his determination plain on his face. With crossed arms he looked down at Eyeblight, the corners of his mouth downturned in a bitter frown. Then, he turned back partially to look at Messiah. "Watch, you doubter, as I transform the detonator into a mere toy, incapable of sending any signals to any bombs. With my power I will defuse this situation! I have calculated this plan so that it is completely foolproof!"

Surprised, and quite pleased, as to how things turned out, Evelyn let out a sigh of relief as the knife only grazed Messiah. She'd definitely have to ask if she was okay at some point, but it appeared that Eyeblight had other things for them to deal with. Pinned in his entirety, he did what many villains did, he monologued, and it made her smile beneath her mask, an expression she was glad no one but her was aware of. She'd been counting as he spoke, even keeping it up through the revelation of there being bombs involved. While the capture of Eyeblight hadn't taken that long, his explanation and Margrave's subsequent proclamation had bought more than enough time for her power to reset.

She felt things click into place, exhaling normally despite the feeling of pleasure that went through her as her power opened itself back up to her en full. She looked to Margrave and held up a hand dramatically, "Margrave, you've proven yourself aplenty. I was wrong," she said, her mask hiding her expression, but not her tone of honesty. "Still, the detonator and the bombs are set so that if they lose signal, as Eyeblight has so kindly explained to us, they will detonate." She glanced at Eyeblight, and then Messiah, complying and walking over to her to listen to her words.

"I just...don't think your power can help us here," she said, voice sympathetic.

In an instant, something changed. Elliot's shoulders slumped and he hung his head, while a dereaved sigh escaped his lips. "In impossible situations like this, it's the duty of someone with a thorough grasp of the situation to admit defeat. I shall allow you, Messiah, to sort this out."

Almost incredulous, Messiah watched in barely-constrained horror as Margrave announced his intent to do exactly what she'd just said not to do, only being swayed from that by Tulpa's own statement, then proceeding to... give up, apparently. Was that it? Would he just do nothing if she stopped being able to prevent Eyeblight from escaping? Granted, she was keeping the scarecrow in check just fine for the moment, but what if she ran out of juice? Insofar as her current output would allow, anyway, which was likely enough to maintain the pattern for a good time, but again, it was an utterly mad change of heart, enough to make her slap a palm to her face (and she was glad the heat spots were being maintained relatively remotely, otherwise that movement might have allowed Eyeblight a gap to slip free through).

Though the hand, in combination with the light emanating from her eyes, was good for covering her expression as she determined something from what Tulpa had said. His power couldn't help here, but if he could make his way to the hostages... alright, how could she work that to her advantage? Simple: play to her own need to minimise the death toll. In other words, distract Eyeblight, and stall for time. As her hand left her face, she put on a thoroughly defeated expression (though whether or not he'd see this through the light was again questionable), and slowly trudged toward Eyeblight, stopping a reasonable distance away, and dear Lord the effects of his terror field did not get better as she drew closer. She made sure to keep him in her peripheral vision only, and just to be safe, a field of heat emanated from her person - enough to set straw alight on contact with her person, but no more, just to prevent him dragging her into his clutches without it being too visible. And now she was in that position? Distraction time.

'Fine. Okay, fine, Eyeblight, you...' she stuttered quietly, only to swallow and proceed a bit more loudly, 'You win. I'll... if you promise not to, you know, blow up the hostages? Promise you'll let them live, maybe go free even, and I'll let you go. It'll be like we never met here, yeah? You can go back to the Community, scott free. And, well, I guess since you have us in a... ahem, a bind and all... if- mmh...' Even if she was faking it, she'd still rather not say this next bit. '...if there's anything else you want from us, just... just ask for it. I guess we'll try to handle it... y-y'know, if it's reasonably possible, and all... does that sound like a good compromise?' Silently, she prayed his own ego would win out over any suspicions of his, and that he'd start to rant about his demands instead of... the alternative. And that Margrave would take the opportunity, of course.

As Margrave spoke his piece her heart sunk in her chest and she reached out towards him as he turned away from them before bringing her hand back to her side in a fist. After a moment she took in a strained breath and sighed, frowning before Messiah spoke. As she did so, Evelyn caught on, a look of surprise briefly forming, the expression hidden by her mask. Heh...using a bit of misdirection, clever. Hopefully it works, she thought silently as she added to the act, taking a step or two towards where Messiah now stood near Eyeblight, changing her posture to best match that of someone who was angry...and defeated. All the while she used her projection to scan the villain's power and to find the detonator amidst his form. If he was lying about controlling individual strands of straw, then he was hardly as much a threat as he wanted them to think. It gave them a possible alternative to playing along, though she hoped they wouldn't need the alternative.

Hands jammed in his pockets, Elliot dejectedly waited for the scarecrow's attention to shift away from him.

The young girl was quick to tear into the sandwich once Macavity handed over the food. If there was any question of the severity of her hunger it would surely be answered by her enthusiasm. She simply held the muffin and disposable phone in her left hand while she went to town on the sandwich in her right hand. One would think she was some kind of carnival attraction that impressed crowds in eating competitions, though all outward appearances made the idea seem even more silly considering her small stature. It took hardly a minute before she was done. Cassidy looked back up to Macavity after letting out a sigh of relief. "Thank you, again." The parahuman thief was certainly strange, in Cassidy's eyes at any rate, but he was kind. Kindness and burglary weren't mutually exclusive but it would be fair to assume they were particularly common together.

She shifted the disposable phone into her right hand and looked at it for a moment. Should she call the home phone first? Or try her parents' work numbers? Maybe calling the police first would be for the best? Ultimately she decided to try calling her house. After tapping the familiar numbers into the keys she held the phone to her ear. It rang and rang and rang. For an awkwardly long amount of time, if Cassidy had to guess. It just continued ringing, not going to voice mail. "That's weird..." she mumbled to herself, cancelling the call by pressing the red button. She gave it another try, achieving the same result when the number wouldn't go to any voice mail. "Okay..." Cassidy finally started to feel something in her gut. Like something was wrong. Everything about her situation was unusual so it wasn't too much to expect more unusual things to happen, but the fact that there was no answer to her call made her start to worry.

"I'll try a few more numbers," she informed Macavity before punching in a new number. This time she was calling her mother's work. She worked at a restaurant as a waitress and had odd hours, but it was clearly daytime so somebody there would answer. The phone hardly rang once before a man picked it up.

"Alton's Downtown Diner, Reggie speaking." Cassidy grinned, feeling some kind of relief that somebody finally answered her call.

"Hi, is Claudia there? Claudia Hendricks?" The man on the line didn't immediately respond, remaining silent for a moment. The brief relief that Cassidy felt was disappearing fast.

"Sorry, kid. Claudia don't work here no more. She died the other day."

The color drained from Cassidy's face. The phone wasn't particularly loud so it was unlikely that Macavity heard the man on the other end, but it wouldn't take much effort for the thief to guess what Cassidy just heard going only by her expressions. "I'm sorry... what? Are you joking with me?" The man let out a disheartened sigh. Cassidy could detect the guilt in his tone. She knew he wasn't joking, nobody who was joking would sigh like that. She physically braced herself for the words that were about to follow.

"I'm not kidding. It was in the news. The whole family was shot up, real tragic. They even killed her little girl. Listen, I'm not the one you should be talking to about this. If you knew Claudia then you should go talk to the police or something. What, was she family or something?" Rather than giving the man an answer, Cassidy gripped the phone tightly as she stared into the distance. She was in a complete daze, detached from reality. Of course it appeared as if she was just looking through Macavity's legs but Cassidy sure couldn't see anything. "... hello? You still there?" At this point Cassidy's grip on the phone had tightened to the point where her thumb accidentally hit the red button, ending the call. But it wasn't like she was hearing anything either. Her mind was still processing everything. Her idea that everyone was just sitting at home waiting to hear news of Cassidy's whereabouts had been completely false. Nobody was waiting for her at all.

"Hold on..." she finally spoke, moving the phone in front of her face so she could dial another number. It wasn't that she didn't believe the story. In fact it was because she did that she began to go through her list. She called the factory her father worked at only to hear the same story. Next was her brother's cellphone, which came up as a disconnected number. It wasn't until she entered the numbers to call her house again did she realize she was in denial. Cassidy stared at the numbers on the little phone's screen for a moment before closing her eyes. "But..." There were no tears, surprisingly enough. Even as Cassidy began to sniffle and her eyes had watered up, the extent of her moment of weakness was limited to quietly bawling.

It was unfair. Cassidy didn't need Macavity to console her as she got her emotions under control fairly quickly. The grief wasn't gone but she tried her best to suppress it. As much as she's come to trust this stranger that's been helping her she didn't want to completely embarrass herself by crying in front of him for twenty minutes. She already knew she would be crying later. Without cancelling the numbers she put into the phone she finally handed it back to Macavity. And then it was time for her to admit what both of them already knew. "They're dead..." Her hunger and thirst seemed like nothing at this point. All of her exhaustion was gone, hidden away behind the sadness that consumed her. As the girl stood back up she wiped her sleeve across her face, drying up the imaginary tears she thought she shed. "I..." She felt another wave of bawling about to come over herself, so she started eating the muffin she'd been holding on to as a means to calm her nerves. After a few bites she felt like she was under control again, allowing herself to look back up to Macavity with watery eyes.

"What do I do?"



The flying supervillain was growing more irritated with every passing minute. Though she was flying slow enough to be able to breathe, she was still covering a lot of ground as she soared over the rooftops. But despite her thoroughness and efficiency she was picking up nothing. The teenage girl that escaped her warehouse was nowhere to be found. Natasha, even under her persona of Sonika, had always been calm and collected. She kept a thick skin and a level head, to assess situations and make the best decisions. But her search was bearing no fruit. And she was becoming angry.

The problem on her hands wasn't just an escaped product. The gravity of the situation was much worse. This girl could ruin everything. She knew of the Bratva's operation now and even the location of the misdeeds. The Bratva never left loose ends for this very reason: because too many things are tied together. If word got out about the warehouse everything else would come up eventually. Not just in Denver but the entire smuggling operation. People would surely die while many others would be arrested. And for Sonika herself she would be exposed. Not just as a ringleader of organized crime, not just as a supervillain, but undoubtedly her ties to Russia and the FSB would come to light. She would be as good as dead at that point. Her true identity being exposed to a world of ruthless killers would leave her with no friends. The motherland would surely cut their ties with Natasha as a means of protecting themselves. All the organized crime of the United States would have a vendetta against her. And even the US itself would try endlessly to capture her. Not to mention any parahuman organizations that would capitalize on her moment of weakness. This problem of an escaped girl was a very personal problem for Natasha.

But no matter how she felt about the situation it did not improve. The minutes continued to add up and still she could not find the girl. After ten minutes she realized that she never was going to find her like this. The supervillain slowed down until she was hovering at a standstill, contemplating what her next course of action was going to be. She couldn't stay in the air too long or surely someone with the PRT would detect her flying about over Denver, so continuing to search was going to increase the odds of bad things happening. She would have to leave the rest of the searching up to her henchmen. But Sonika came up with two possible solutions to this problem. Perhaps the most effective way would be to put out a reward on the girl. The new Italian mafia wasn't the only other gang in Denver's criminal underworld. While the Bratva had been actively removing many criminals there was still plenty to be found if one wanted to go searching. It would be easy to use word-of-mouth to spread news of a girl with a heavy bounty on her head. Money wasn't an issue and it would certainly attract more people to the cause. The entire underworld of Denver could be searching for this girl before nightfall, no questions asked aside from the price.

The other solution would be to press her contacts within the Denver police. The city was large and had many precincts, the Bratva only have direct influence over a small amount of them. But they had other, less important contacts among the rest of the precincts. Regular officers, detectives, operators, even a few sergeants. They could apprehend the girl for Natasha if she were to go to the police. This would require a bit of luck though, as if the girl would have to go to one of the crooked police first for this to work. If the clean members of the Denver PD learned about her then it would be all over for Natasha.

So it was decided. Sonika took one last glance around before flying back towards the warehouse. She needed to make phone calls. Even if she had to burn through cash, resources, and favors she had to keep that girl from leaving this city. This was one loose end that could spiral out of control very easily. All the girl would have to do is remember the location of the warehouse and tell it to the wrong people. The anger and irritation from Sonika was palpable after she gave up the search. She had only been in charge for a few months before something big happened. It didn't take a parahuman to see that she was very displeased.

Raymond was well-versed in how to approach a target subtly. Love Craft was clearly not. Rolling his eyes, he waited a few moments after "Fran" had crossed the road in front of their goal, then looked both ways and began to cross the street himself, timing his speed to reach the two just as Fran turned to address Arsenal. In his case, he took up a standing position just to the side of the poncho-wearing man, his arms loosely placed at his sides, yet more than capable of flying upward to deal with any sudden assaults in a fraction of a second, as well as giving himself more time to act if Arsenal decided to try and target him first, as he'd have to turn to reliably attack him from a side-on position. He was sure "James" could convince the man to listen rather than targeting them, however, so he'd wait for that to come about before acting to subdue him.

---

An eyebrow raising at Fran's exclamation, Drake smiled a bit after a moment, giving Headhunter a sidelong glance before he too crossed the street, looking both ways before he did so. Slipping his hands into his pockets, his feet met the other sidewalk and he leaned against the wall, with Arsenal and 'Fran' in his line of sight, as well as Headhunter. Thoughts moving quickly he figured that their...new recruit, was likely to feel threatened by three strangers, who seemed to know him despite him being relatively new in town--as capes went. With this in mind, he spoke up, dialing his power up en full, though his teammates remained immune. After all, Arsenal wasn't on the team yet, so there was nothing really stopping him from using his power to make sure that this went smoothly. He'd stop afterwards, maybe even apologize for the manipulation. Imagine that. "Proposal is right, friend," he said, smiling at their recruit conspiratorially. "I assure you we can pick up and leave if you're not interested, but trust me you're probably gonna like what we're selling, so to speak." With that he shut his mouth as it was likely plenty to do the trick, especially considering that the fellow had no idea he even had a power.

So there he leaned, waiting for their recruit's response. Hopefully he would be sufficiently convinced. If not, well...he had plenty more where that had come from and if he wouldn't play ball willingly, well...that would just be his loss.

Loss of self that is.

Well, it seems that Macavity can check off his good deed of the day. Feeding this homeless girl will surely bring some good fortune later on in his life, and knowing other parahumans around the city was always good for socialization. Though, her mouth being stuffed with his snacks didn't bring much of a conversation between the two, and he did feel that the two were over staying their welcome even with his powers completely masking their presence. After pacing around the alleyway for a minute, it seemed that the girl was done with her meal after a polite thanks to his rather kind actions. "You're most welcome, it's not any day one would find another parahuman in need of some help." Though, there was the problem of what to do with her after the two leave this alleyway, he doesn't really plan far ahead, and he certainly doesn't know what to do with a little girl with his line of profession. Well, he will just wing it like normally, after the phone call the future Macavity will have to deal with the problem than present Macavity.

So, as the girl started to dial on the disposable phone, he moved to lean on a wall parallel to where she was currently seated. It would be good to keep a positive attitude on her guardian's status, but in his gut knew what had happened to them after the incident with the Bratva. Still, it wasn't like her parents were going to anwser the phone with their last dying breath, he still had time to let it down gently after she calms down from the situation at hand. Though, the girl's expression wasn't the best after she informed him that she would be dialing more numbers, it was futile but Macavity wouldn't say no to these attempts of contacting her family. However, he would soon realize that letting her continue these attempts would lead into a very uncomfortable situation.

It did not take long before he noticed her face quickly becoming pale, "Oh shit." Macavity muttered under his breath, it seemed that she had more numbers to call rather than just the family's phone numbers. The following attempts afterwards only made him more uncomfortable, he rubbed the back of his neck and was dreading this quite horrendously sad scene. I mean, could anyone feel normal watching a little girl bawling in some dark alleyway? No. It was just becoming very awkward for the thief, the most time he had spent with a child was his own childhood! He didn't know what to do, he didn't ask for this! All he wanted to do was steal some quality goods from a dangerous mafia! Not the goods cry about their recently dead family! This entire thing was starting to spiral out of his control quickly, though it was all stopped by which the girl stood up and asked him a question. He stood around for those few moments, shifting his weight around the legs as he tried to determine what to say after the things someone like her had just experienced. Nothing was coming to him at the moment... Aw fuck it, just wing it.

"Uh... Look, kid. I mean, I can't decide that for you. You got to figure that out for yourself, but if you want you can follow me to somewhere I know you can think for awhile. It's hidden so it can protect you for the time being, you can also eat some better stuff and rest. That's all I can really provide you, can't really do much else but give my condolences." Macavity sighed, it was her choice to follow him or leave, but it would leave a bad taste in his mouth if he just left her without trying to offer her some more help.

Arsenal - Denver Streets

Escaping was his main priority as Arsenal was briskly walking away from the scene of crime, but it seemed that some people had something else for the villain. Three people were crossing the street after him, he couldn't make another big scene as law enforcement were rather quite near after his earlier fight. Still, it didn't take too long before the three had stopped the teen in his tracks. He was unable to continue acting in his brash manner, so the boy glared at all three as he waited silently for the trio to make their move.

However, their motive soon showed that they didn't want to kill him, but rather offer him something? A proposal is what the strangely dressed person had announced, and later confirmed by the young adult. The words were quite ambiguous for his taste, but something in his gut was telling him to trust these folk. Sadly, that gut feeling was rather Chatterbox's power working quite effectively on the teenager. Glancing to the rather menacing man to his side, Arsenal finally broke his silence to to the strange trio. "Well I don't got all day, get with it."

Martyr spoke to reassure the first hostage he approached, then lifted his sword in an effort to swipe at the hostage's bomb collar. Before contact could be made, Sonar held up his hands to stop the teen hero from what would have been a terrible mistake. "Stop! Stop!" The younger Ward moved between Martyr and the hostage, just in case. Even though his eyes were hidden behind the visor of his helmet, anybody could tell from his lips and cheeks that Sonar appeared to be horrified. "We don't know how brute force will affect these things, Martyr. You could make things worse and blow it up by jostling it the wrong way! But I can tell you that Eyeblight revealed he has a dead man's switch installed. The others are dealing with him right now. He's on the ground, not moving, so they must have him pinned in some way that doesn't make sound and they're trying to get the detonator away from him. Just hold off." The kid hero glanced over to Epsilon with a knowing look on his face. "Can you do anything with that information?" As soon as he had finished speaking, Sonar's lips moved again. Neither Martyr nor Epsilon could hear his words, meaning that they had to be designated for someone else only.

Meanwhile, inside the drainage piping the others had Eyeblight at their mercy. Or he had them at his mercy. It was a difficult situation to read, with each party desperate to gain just a little more leverage over the other to come out on top. The Wards could not afford to slip up, just in case Eyeblight wasn't bluffing. If they did, too many people would be dead, including three of their own. By the same token, Eyeblight himself couldn't move lest he be set aflame, truly a most pressing matter for the certified psychopath. For the moment however, it had appeared the ruse setup by Messiah was proceeding as intended. The man made of straw twisted his head around, looking directly at her, despite the aura of light emanating from her being. The gesture was not returned though, as she avoided directly gazing upon him in an effort to minimize his own aura: that of abject terror.

"Sounds good, little missy," he spoke, softly. The tone he carried would have been disturbing even without the effects brought about by his power. "Let me go, spare the sheep. Oh you little heroes, you should already know that I will get all of my demands. Thanks for offering, though." The straw and mask smiled in a most unnatural, grotesque manner. It simply shouldn't move that way. Like a jagged dagger crossed with a crescent moon turned on its side, the grin of Eyeblight could plant a pit in the stomach of the most fortuitous of men. His eyes narrowed into a similar shape as his mouth, made all the more wrong by the burlap sack of a mask. Then he spoke again, beginning in the same soft almost-whisper. "I have one more demand, little failed Messiah. I want you to do the one thing nobody has ever been able to do my entire life. I want. You. To LOOK AT ME!"

He cried out in a chorus of voices, all his own but several different pitches, each one offset from the others by just a fraction of a second as though he were not a single man but a dozen all attempting to shout at the same time. "Look upon my face! Take me in! See what this world has done! See what this world has created!" Eyeblight had lost it, focusing entirely on Messiah, completely ignorant of Margrave nearby and utterly unaware that something else currently occupied his same space.

As the psychotic gangster made his irrational demands, Margrave heard a voice within his head. "If you can pull yourself away, I think Epsilon can really use your help getting these bombs removed."

Tulpa's projection scanned Eyeblight's body thoroughly, sending all the information it could back to Tulpa. The first detail she had noticed was the one she was looking for: a small remote-like device located near the center of the scarecrow man's chest. Plastic casing, copper wiring, radio transceiver, there could be no mistaking that this was the detonator. With a little extra probing the shimmer also discovered that the detonator had an active radio signal. He wasn't lying in the least. The thing was definitely setup with a dead man's switch. As the projection shared a space with the parahuman, Tulpa could not help but pick up more details of the man's unique biology and his powers than she had previously been able to receive. Individual movement of his strands was in fact possible, but he had left out some details, probably to maintain a position of power. No matter how his individual strands of straw moved around, he more or less had to maintain a humanoid shape. Not only that, but the process was messy, and difficult to manipulate. He couldn't control single strands with the same dexterity or skill as controlling his entire body. That little trick with straw tied to the knife was probably extremely taxing and difficult just in itself. Still, that didn't mean he would have much problem pressing the detonator's trigger whilst it remained inside his chest.

---

---

"Perhaps instinct has something to do with that?" Decoy suggested, then shrugged it off. "Once you have met Director Kens, we may be able to arrange psychiatric treatment, if you consent. Who knows what we may be able to help you recover? Ah, but I ramble. My apologies." The holographic being lifted his hands up, then began to mime the act of typing. That was unusual. Or at least it would be, if Ruben's power hadn't kicked in to tell him that Decoy was simply typing something wherever his real body was. Fascinating that the hologram would project only his body and not any props or objects within sight around him. The technology would truly be something to admire, if he ever got the opportunity to observe it.

A second after the hologram ceased its air-typing, the door opened up and the PRT squad stepped inside again. The team leader approached, somewhat bemused at the situation, and kneeled down. As he reached out for the hologram projector, Decoy gave Ruben a little wink. "I look forward to setting up your meeting with the director. Maybe we'll be able to meet in person? Keep an eye out for my message. Until next time!" Decoy waved goodbye rather enthusiastically. It was the last image Ruben saw before the projection shutoff as the soldier retrieved and pocketed the little device. Signalling the others to head out, the squad leader turned as well, but turned his head to address Ruben just before exiting.

"This whole situation smells funny. I'll be keeping my eye on you."

---

---

The Russian villain had the right idea to remove herself from airspace. Unfortunately she was too late and had already been seen. Suddenly Sonika felt a rushing heatwave, her movements through the air began to falter, but how? Sonika maintained absolute control over the air itself! Regardless as to the answer, she was losing altitude, and the only way to save herself was to make an emergency landing atop a nearby office building. It was the tallest structure for at least a mile in every direction, with a spacious roof. Lucky for her it was here, or she might have had a long fall punctuated by a sudden stop.

As Sonika recovered her footing, another figured approached from behind. Some sort of hang glider swooped downward carrying a costumed figure. He released the hand bar as he touched down, running to a slower momentum, and the hang glider itself folded back and retracted into the back of his red armor. Sonika recognized this man from some recent news reports. He was a hero independent from the Protectorate. No tinker, but highly intelligent in his own right. This was the man known to the city of Denver as Furnace.

"Good afternoon, miss. Sonika, was it? Word on the street is that you have ties to the Bratva. Much as it pains me to say this, I'm afraid I'll have to take you in. Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Furnace. I'm just a guy who loves his city."

"Ok. I look forward to talking to the director of the Protectorate. Thanks for everything Decoy" After that was said, the hologram vanished, gone without a trace, and the head of the dispatched squad began to speak to Ruben. "This whole situation smells funny. I'll be keeping my eye on you." Ruben calmly responded to the leader with no hostility in his voice. "I don't blame you for thinking that. Would you guys like something to eat or drink before you leave, though? I can make some good tea, in my opinion." Who would turn down a cup of tea offered by a cripple, everybody knows that they make the best kind!

---

Inside an abandoned warehouse in Denver, a thuggish man was being interrogated by a vigilante in a moon mask, being beaten rather heavily. Now while this may seem like the masked man was being the aggressor here, he was actually the hero in this situation, as the thug was a leader of a smaller-scale human-trafficking group. To passerby with excellent hearing, they would hear the sounds of the thug crying out loud with pleas to his mother, but most would choose to ignore it as the area had a bit of a history of being haunted. Anyway, the conversation the two people had was pretty damn entertaining.

"Please mayn! I ain't done nuthin wrong, mayn! I-I just a simple homie G mayn!" "You say that but then you auction off these girls like they didn't have lives." "Look mayn it's just the bi'ness mayn, I ain't pickinin up girls and sellin' em off. I work off of what m'boss tells me t'do mayn!" "I know, and I don't want to hurt you any more than I have to. That doesn't mean I won't do it though." "Don' hurt me! I'll tell ya whatever ya want ta know mayn!" "I need information about more of these auctions." There was a pause, followed by a smirk from the thug. "Oh dayumn mayn ya wanna know more? I see whatchu' tryna do here, heh heeeeeeh, I feel ya I feel ya. Errthang ya need ta know is in da bottom left desk drawer, and call ya boi Chilly Willy up when ya need some mo' girls. I'll hook ya up nicely, mayn."

The moon man grabbed the information he needed, something mentioning this organization called the
"Bratva", and then he untied the thug, who stumbled onto the floor. A dimly lit flash of light sparked in the room, and the moon man was replaced with a woman who immediately slammed her police baton into the man's head, knocking him out cold.

"...really? He gave us the information we needed... and why are you in your underwear, Gaia?" The girl chuckled at the male thoughts in her head, and she began to speak out loud. "The police are on their way, Dunn. If we let him escape, he would go blab to his boss and they'd skip town. In this situation, his boss will think the police got him, and they'll sta-ay~." There was a sigh from the male voice. "You forget that you are here and it looks very damn suspicious to the police if you are found here-"

His thoughts were interrupted by the police sirens blaring in the distance, then stopping outside the warehouse, with blue and red lights flashing outside the window. "...FUCK!"

Martyr: Outside Drainage Pipe

Before Dean could make much progress on the collar, Sonar quickly stopped him. Dean was quite confused and a bit indignant for a second, before quickly realizing his error and sheathing the blade. That could have ended very poorly, yeah. Dean turned around and looked away from the hostages, his face growing a bit redder. He totally could have accidentally killed that man if Sonar hadn't stopped him. Dean's face grew redder as he realized who exactly would be getting them all out of this bind. Margrave. He could simply turn the collars into some sort of toy. But then... would the dead man's switch go off? Could Margrave turn the bomb part of the bomb into a toy before the... dead man switch part? Was there a set part that was the dead man switch part? Dean began to realize he had no idea how bombs worked, so for now, he'd stand around pondering them.

Love Craft: Streets of Denver

At the southern-looking boy's command, Lovely quickly fished out the letter Broker had prepared for the young man and handed it over. "Not selling, exactly." Lovely corrected to their literal partner in crime. "In fact, you'll be getting paid. I know this may sound like a scam of some sort, but I assure you, this is good business. Ch-James, could you tell the man about the Jacks for me?" The mad scientist asked, passing the conversational ball over to James. Of course, this spot wasn't exactly the best place to discuss business. It was crowded, noisy, and there was constant movement. Once James was finished, Lovely would cut in with "Ah, mind if we move somewhere more private?~ Or, at least, somewhere where I could rest my feet."

It was perhaps a fitting irony that Natasha's day only grew worse. Her ability to precisely manipulate the air immediately around her for flight began to deteriorate quickly, forcing the sudden landing on a nearby rooftop. It was obvious that this was the work of another parahuman in the vicinity, though how they were able to sneak up on her was a mystery. Sonika soon heard the sound of somebody touching down on the roof behind her, prompting her to quickly face her enemy. Even with her mask and bandana wrapped around her face it wasn't difficult to decipher her mood. The contempt towards Furnace existed before she even confirmed he was there. As he introduced himself and threatened Sonika he was only met with a deadly glare.

Behind the gaze she was already rapidly considering her situation. Furnace had some method of hampering her abilities, explaining why she didn't detect him and why she couldn't maintain flight. It didn't seem like her abilities had been completely shut off, as far as Sonika could tell, but what she was worried about most right now was if this man actually understood the extent of her powers. The element of surprise always proved lethal for Sonika and there was now a distinct possibility that she wouldn't have that advantage here. Likewise she was unfamiliar with this hero's capabilities. She had only heard of Furnace by name, not by feat. Another irony that she was lacking information when she would need it most.

"You've caught me at a bad time," Sonika finally responded in her thick Russian accent, now turning around to face Furnace completely. She was a tall woman, able to maintain an intimidating aura in spite of the quaint colors of her uniform. "I'm afraid I have more important matters to deal with than to play games with a vigilante." There was a possibility that Furnace had an understanding of Sonika's powers and now was the time to test if it was true. Whether he knew what was about to happen or not, she also had to quickly learn of what precisely he could do. How did he get her out of the air? What will he do to survive here? These questions and more would only be answered if Sonika took charge of the situation and pressed an attack. Or in this case: de-pressed. The blonde woman quickly raised her left hand towards the man in the red suit, pointing her open palm directly at Furnace's face. The air around his upper body should be escaping him, as with so many of Sonika's victims past. Creating a vacuum around one's head left them unable to breathe and many wouldn't even have the sense to try and move away from this pocket devoid of air. Of course she had other means to keep them still should they actually get smart.

But this was merely a test. To test if her powers could still function. To test if Furnace could anticipate the attack. If he could defend himself from it. His powers remained a mystery that Sonika wouldn't mind not discovering, if it meant he lost consciousness within the next minute. The possibility of her powers not affecting him already had Sonika considering back-up plans. She could try to kill him with melee combat though his suit appeared to be well armored. Running away would be difficult as he could just chase her with ease using that glider from before, assuming that Sonika could even get off the roof without the option of flight. As it sat now she had to hope her powers still worked despite her proximity to this foe. If her powers weren't completely disabled then at least she would have more options than trying to rely on knocking Furnace out by hitting him in the jaw, his only exposed point. No matter what the circumstances were Sonika was already desperate. Being captured was not an option.



Perhaps Cassidy was foolish to assume that the elder Macavity would have some prophetic wisdom to share with her in her time of need. She didn't really expect him to lay out a step-by-step plan of what she should do following the terrible news, but at least her new friend gave an honest effort in comforting her. She couldn't ask for much more given the circumstances. The young girl sniffled one last time before wiping the tears out of her eyes again. "Yeah..." This didn't really give Macavity an answer, though Cassidy assumed it did and got to her feet. She wobbled a bit, having found that her legs were actually shaking and it caused her to briefly lose balance. This was quickly fixed now that she was aware but she was still trembling even if she was no longer in danger of falling flat on her face.

"Yeah... Just don't try anything funny." Following a stranger to his home would normally seem like a very foolish move to a normal teenage girl, even if the stranger was as nice as Macavity has been. Cassidy was devastated and doing her best to suppress her distress but she still had her wits about her and was still a parahuman. If he tried to do anything rape-y then she could escape, especially since he just gave her food and drink. She was tired, sure. And it would be a while before she got any real energy, sure. But Cassidy knew that Macavity didn't understand her power and was accordingly wary, so that was a good sign. It was unlikely, in her eyes, that he would betray her trust. But her warning to him served more as an attempt at motivating herself to toughen up rather than to actually be threatening. If one couldn't guess that truth then her disinterested tone surely gave away how hollow the threat was.

In the end she needed to follow him anyways. He knew Denver, she didn't. He had resources, she didn't. If Cassidy abandoned her new friend in this city then she'd be entirely by herself. The people from before that she escaped from were undoubtedly hunting for her, so being lost and alone was the worst situation she could put herself in. She just learned her entire family had been killed and that everybody thinks she's dead too, being thrown into a box again would be awful. "Where is this hiding place, Macavity?" Cassidy spoke up again after a moment of silence. "You said you're a thief, so how do you know its safe? How do you know those people won't find it?"