"Jesus G4M3R, I was just joking!" Kyoshi said as she backed up. "I don't think the idea of bombing in is too wise. That's property damage, isn't it?" If anyone knew about causing property damage, it was her. The man at the junkyard also knew this, although he knew it a bit less than she did. Honestly, Kyoshi was surprised that not a lot of people really got on her about jumping through the city. There was a very clear path that she left behind, and it seemed everyone was quite okay with her actions. "If I may pitch another thing in, I haven't tried to bend metal before. I can surely try to!"

She probably couldn't, but she could try!

Around the middle of the day, right after noon-ish, both of the phones on the members of Lethal Force would buzz, signaling a text message from an unlisted caller had been received. Odd, who would've sent them that message. It was a bit interesting at first, but once they actually read the message they would quickly find out who it was.

> Come to this address. I have a few things I think you guys would like to hear. -Twins

Along with the message was an address, leading to the apartment of Gaia and Dunn. Low and behold, the two were talking to themselves as they studied a series of intel that they had collected from their time in Denver. Were they talking about the intel? No, rather they were talking about Gaia's failure to keep the place clean when she was around. It was especially prevalent in the bedroom, where there was a pile of unfolded, yet completely clean, underwear that belonged to Gaia alone.

"Why don't you ever put away your clothes?" "I don't see the need when we hardly ever change our clothes or shower. We're always changing, so..." "I mean... that's true, but you could still put them away! We have guests coming over!" "I don't mind if they look at my underwear. It's just underwear!"

After receiving the text, Judah continued his work at the FBI. Mostly involving piles of paperwork. There was an ongoing investigation of a parahuman man who was recently deceased. That was being turned over to the PRT. Judah thought to himself,"I don't remember forgetting anything at the scene..I suppose if I did, I'd find out shortly.."

When his shift was through, Judah headed to his ride and input the address listed in the text. "Let's see what the twins have found." He felt strange referring to them as 'twins' but he felt like he'd get used to it. He arrived slightly after five and double checked the address. Then he walked up to the door and knocked.

Jackson stopped and nodded. "Well it seems you weren't seeing those before so I'd say we made a pretty major breakthrough kid. I don't want to push you too hard so we'll-" Jackson paused suddenly and held his pointer finger to Ruben, indicating he should wait a moment. "That sounds like a good idea sir, we just got some good work done so this could be interesting." Jackson turned back to Ruben with a somewhat silly grin, "Good news kid, turns out we just caught a villain and are gonna interrogate them about the crime scene, you wanna watch? Maybe your power will come in handy or something." Jackson shrugged speculatively, "So, whadya say?"

Ruben sat there in a bit of shock as he was told that he could come and involve himself in an interrogation. Well... more or less he'd be there for it. Ecstatically, Ruben responded to Jackson as he stood, his metal leg creaking as he got up. "I'm down. Maybe this'll answer some questions too, like specifics and stuff." The teenager walked over to his table-o'-stuff and grabbed his hoodie off it, putting it on for no reason in particular. "Ready when you are."

A cold wind whipped against Chris's hoodie, cutting through it like a hot knife cuts air. She had been standing in line to enter this club for a while now, her head facing down, with a dull grey purse resting comfortably against her hip. The light hung above her at a sharp angle and shadowed her face well, but she wasn't taking any chances; The demon mask rested against her face comfortably, a secondary measure. It wouldn't matter when she got to the bouncer. Chris lifted her head slightly, locking onto an older woman's face as she walked to the back of the line for the club. Chris memorized details as quickly as possible. Sharp cheek bones, purple lip gloss, a thick forehead, she locked onto all the shallow details and kept the face in her head. The older woman didn't even notice, and the person in front of Chris entered the club. The young girl stepped forward, slipping a blank slip of plastic out of her pocket, and offered it to the man with her head down. He reached out, and the second Chris's fingers brushed his hand his world was slightly changed.

He saw her lean back, taking her hand away and looking up at him. The face on the 'ID' she handed him matched hers. She was middle aged, with makeup that exaggerated a few of her best qualities. He also noticed her height, but it matched the valid ID. Plenty of girls were shorter than her so he waved her through with a gruff greeting. In actuality as soon as their hands touched, she had grabbed his wrist, and held it there. He tried to move it to his face to see the white piece of plastic better under the light, but it was a slow movement that she didn't allow him to make. She hid this action from the woman behind her with her body, blocking the view well enough. He was certain he had inspected the ID regardless of the truth of the situation. She took back her slip of plastic, and let her fingers stay on his wrist lightly as she walked past him, before letting go once she was behind his back. He would have a movement of confusion and dizziness as the illusion faded, the positioning of his body being slightly different than a moment ago, but she doubted he would think about it too long. Hoped more than doubted actually.

Now she was gliding, giddy with excitement as she slipped her mask off in the entrance way to the club, and slipped it into her bag. Strobe lights flashed high above her, and it was intoxicating. The dance floor was filled with people, every one of them inches from each other. This was what she could do with her power, go anywhere she wanted, and be anyone she wanted. She scooted the edge of the dance floor, and sat down on one of the many couches that outlined the room. Drunk couples, and strangers alike were pressed against each other aplenty, but she chose an empty couch instead of interrupting any of the one night stands. A glass was on the table that each of these couches had, with what looked like a small amount of whiskey in the bottom. Chris took a small drink, trying her best to seem natural, which was kind of working for once. The drink was disgusting Chris realized and coughed a bit. Smooth.



Decoy took his sweet time, but Celia forgave him regardless. His response was vastly disappointing, and the steel wall of his encrypted database didn't allow her further entry. She took her time responding, and expected Decoy to be more disappointed in her response than she was in him. She didn't pull up anymore files, or check any other resources on the interface platform that her minor operating system was using, but instead sent a message back.

c17: That's quite a shame; you're either lying or useless in this regard. I don't know which is worse, honestly. Thank you for your help.

That message was the lest sent before she went completely silent, essentially leaving the chatroom. She hopped off the fly along with G4M3R and Artificer, and listened to their leader speak as she leaned over the edge of the west side of building. Celia considered the drop for a second, before looking back at the gathered parahumans. She considered the situation closely, wondering what the best plan of attack would be for the group. It was quite a difficult calculation, and there were too many unknowns to evaluate every single option. Celia would prefer to attack from the ground floor, with a teammate, while the others went from roof down. IT would trap their prey if done correctly, but she felt like suggesting a plan like that might overstep her boundaries as a new member. Instead she settled for sitting on the edge of the roof precariously, and watching her teammates come up with plans of their own.

Sofia watched curiously as the 'fight', though it could barely be called that, between Gamble and Broker went down. Gamble pretty much made ever more of a fool of himself and the group was told they could do whatever they wanted with him. Well Sofia certainly had no interest in him. Instead "Um." Sofia raised her hand and waved it a little to get Broker's attention. "Mr. Broker where can I look at how much money I have?" She was curious as to how much exactly they'd gotten paid. Sofia wasn't sure what she would buy even once she saw how much there was, but it was certainly good to know. Probably something nice to eat. Hm.

A Denver Nightclub

"Hey there little red." Chris would hear as someone casually slung into the seat next to her. Turning to look at him would reveal a rather handsome individual, the single exposed golden eye looking at her with a mix of curiosity and amusement. "If you're going to take my drink you could at least pretend you liked it." He said with a laugh. "I wonder how you snuck in here, you can't be over 16. Whatever, if you're here for a good time then you picked the right seat little red." He said with a wink, then turned to wave over a waitress to fill up his drink.

Heartless watched Gamble shake the Broker's hand as they seemingly came to a deal. A pity, Heartless wanted to punch him, now he was gonna have to work with the annoying prick.

"Uh, not to interrupt you, I mean I know booze is the shit and all, but you want to answer my question? Did you hear about how great Gamble is and wanted to hire me for some stupidly impossible job?"

"Not in the least. I have no use for an imbecile of your caliber. Your brain is made of sod and your head is among the thickest I have seen in all my days. I have gotten what I need from you."

Heartless perked up as this exchange was made, things were suddenly becoming interesting. He cracked his knuckles as Gamble shouted some threats about beating up everyone. Broker was suitably disinterested as he went back to drinking. Gamble grabbed a bar stool and bragged he would knock everyone out with it, without breaking it. That did not happen. Gamble instead broke a bunch of alcohol bottles with the stool. Now either he was trying to distract them and he was gonna make a break for it any second, or he was just plain stupid.

"Wait... What the hell happened? That should have... Should have..."

Stupid it is then. Heartless sighed as he went behind the counter, glass crunching underneath his boots, and picked up a broken stool leg. "500 bucks huh? I feel like he should repay us somehow for that."

"Well then, I have what I hired you for today. Gamble is yours to do with whatever you wish. You will find your accounts a little fatter, and your next assignment is posted in the basement. Other matters call my attention now. Cheers."

"Don't mind if I do. Just gotta take out the trash." Heartless hopped over the counter and grabbed Gamble's shirt and pulled him into a headbutt. With his helmet on. Gamble crumbled to the floor, groaning and clutching his now bleeding forehead. "You cost us 500 dollars, now we're gonna cost you 500 dollars. In hospital bills." Heartless started beating Gamble up with the stool leg, definitely cracking a few of his ribs. Next was the leg as he stomped on his knee as hard as possible. With that he waa done as Gamble lay bloodied and bruised on the floor.

"Anyone wanna help me carry out this piece of shit? Maybe have a turn beating him beforehand? I'm down for whatever honestly." Heartless said with a laugh as he lightly tossed the stool leg at Gamble to add insult to injury.

Dunn opened the door to see Judah, and not the pizza delivery guy with his soda. He said he forgot to pick one up before coming, and he ran back out to get one from a nearby gas station. The nerve of some people. "How's life? Come on in, help yourself to some pizza," Dunn casually said as he moved aside for Judah to enter the humble abode of the twins. A large pizza box was open on the counter, untouched, and a secondary, smaller box was off to the side with half of it removed. The larger of the two pizzas was plain cheese, and the smaller one was an odd combination of toppings, including pineapple and black olives. "Only the pizza of true champions."

"Gaia and I want to wait to explain everything until Zach gets here, in the meantime feel free to check out what we've gathered since we've been in Denver. All of it's on the wall in the other room."

Jason entered the sublevel as Gamble was being beaten, raising an eyebrow at the scene. Of course, given his helmet no one would notice.

He lifted a hand almost lazily. "Sorry I'm late, boss. Y'know how it can get in this city," Jason called out in his deep voice, adding a bow to Broker. "I'll make up for it in the coming Jobs."

"Anyone wanna help me carry out this piece of shit? Maybe have a turn beating him beforehand? I'm down for whatever honestly." one of the others asked.

Jason walked forward casually, laying a hand on Gamble's shoulder for a moment before hauling him up effortlessly. "I can help remove the problem, if his life no longer matters," Jason said with a hint of amusement... And perhaps excitement? "The names Thunderbolt, by the way. Mass reduction is my game. But I don't think I'll lay all my cards on the table just yet."

Judah stepped inside with a slight nod making sure he knew which of the two he was speaking with,"Decent. How about..yourselves? Dunn, was it?" He walked over to the table and took a slice of the plain pizza. He wasn't a fan of pineapple on his pizza. The two should never meet. EVER.

After Dunn's reply he began munching the pizza and took his advice in heading toward the room, with the hopefully juicy information. Anything that would bring them closer to eliminating another source of oppression was a step in the right direction. The feeling of freedom from red tape, like being tied down in the FBI, was a breathe of fresh air. While walking closer to the room he asked,"Does it get cramped sharing the same body?" He was genuinely curious. He'd encountered a siamese twin, never multiples inhabiting the same body. Schizophrenics aside.

Protean lead the group calmly, with an expression that was hard to read. Eventually Ira fell to the back of the group, looking a bit crestfallen, a disappointing addition to her relatively antisocial nature. They arrived at a room used to interrogate various unsavory figures in the midst of an argument between the director and Decoy. After a bit the director explained what the current state of affairs was, giving just enough details to make Ira feel informed. Protean interjected at a part to add relevant information that some of the Wards may not have known offhand.

As the director finished, a young person entered the far side of the room, with quite a bit of ambiguity surrounding their gender among other parts of their identity. They flirted, and it almost seemed defensive to Ira, the kind of thing you'd do to hide real fear. At least, that was Ira's best guess.

The director noted that they were working under the assumption they were a shifter. Shifters, right, they could change their physical from. Everything from turning into animals, to replicating someone else's appearance. The directer also seemed offended by the use of the name Lovecraft, which seemed a bit strange to Ira. Then again, she had no idea who or what Lovecraft was. A small conversation about assets unknown commenced between Protean and the Director, speaking of someone who had been hiding in a bomb shelter.

The young tinker hung on every word spoken, characteristically absorbed in anything relating to the Protecterate or more specifically powers. Then the director mentioned a lie detecting software, and Ira almost lost control. She wanted so badly to ask how it worked, what it used as a baseline, how quickly it could be calibrated, and every other relevant question under the sun. Ira seemed to be visibly strained, wanting very badly to speak up. When Protean suggested they individually interrogate the villain, Ira's hand shot up, and her mouth opened to speak. "I'll go first! I mean I'll try if that's fine with you," She said, bouncing up and down in place with excitement. Her derangement was getting the best of her.


The city absorbed Jaunt, his brisk pace mixed with precise teleports, bringing him to his home quickly. The last jump, from the denser city, to his suburban home was a very long one. He collapsed to his knees, partially in shock from how painful it was. Standing back up was a slow, arduous movement, especially with all the body armor he was wearing. Jaunt was standing in a room that used to be a spare bedroom. He took off his gas mask first, unstringing it and placing it on the bed carefully. Next was his helmet, which he put next to the gas mask. Every piece of armor was put on and taken off in a specific way. When put on in the correct order, it provided maximum protection to a large variety of attacks.

Soon the entire costume lay on the bed, along with his phone and his various weaponry. The look in that woman's eyes flashed through his head again, the cold calculating nature of them. He almost died. Christ, and he thought he was losing his humanity, but nothing like that. A breath James didn't know he was holding escaped his lips, and he moved to open the closet. A rifle safe rested on the right hand corner of the closet, and Jaunt entered the 6 digit combination quickly. He swung open the empty safe, and slowly stored his costume within. He picked up his- no, Jaunt's cellphone. He sent a message to Lance, his only contact in Patriach's group, that was short and sweet. It explained his phone was compromised in a couple words. The implied meaning was that they would have to meet up and exchange new numbers within the next three days.

Now the phone was useless. He threw it onto the bed behind him, and looked back at his closet. James closed the safe, and picked a white t-shirt off of the hanger, slipping it on over his head, along with a pair of black pants. He had about thirty of that exact same outfit spread across his closet. Buying clothes was such a headache that James didn't do it anymore. One type of shirt, and one type of pants fit him just fine. He slipped his wallet off his dresser and into his back pocket, and grabbed the compromised phone off the bed.

The door to the guest bedroom opened with a loud squeak as the tall black man stepped out into the hallway. His heart ached a bit, just being in this place. A remnant of a different time and a different man. He had been less jaded. He walked to the living room, picking his keys off of the dining room table as he passed. Everywhere he looked, memories of his wife littered this house. It now lay undisturbed, the only thing having changed was the movement of all his things to the guest bedroom. James couldn't even sleep in his own damn room. Everything still smelled like her.

James unlocked and opened the front door, locking it again before closing it behind him. He opened the garage with his keys, moving past his wife's Subaru straight to his motorcycle. Christina had chided him so often for buying. There was an empty spot where he used to park his police cruiser, though it was clearly absent. He picked his motorcycle helmet off the workbench next to it, and strapped it on out of habit. The one condition for him buying it was to always wear a helmet, and so he did.

Within minutes he was at the nightclub that Lance and he almost always met up at. He would have to come here at least once for the next two days to try to catch Lance, unless the man wasn't busy today. He slipped the helmet off his head, and took the compromised phone out of his pocket. As long as it didn't have a battery it couldn't be tracked. He slipped the back cover of the blackberry off, and put its battery in his pocket before tossing it in the trashcan.

James moved past the bouncer with a nod, happy that he was on such good terms with the staff of the nightclub that he could skip the long line. As he entered the club, he eyed the VIP area above the right side of the club. As he looked for Lance above, his eye caught movement below his eye line. There Lance was, talking to a very young girl with red hair and a green hoodie.

Anyone who got in James way was swiftly pushed aside as he approached the two, eying the girl's grey purse. It was bulging, though that wasn't too strange. Still for Lance to confront her. . . Was she a cape? James spoke up as he reached the table at the same time as a waitress who was refilling Lance's drink. "Little young for you Lance? Found a mark? He asked, putting emphasis on their keyword for Parahumans when texting. James had to assume that Lance had already been here. Hell he probably hadn't even seen the text yet.


The text dinged on Zach's phone just as he finished his day job. He pretty quickly figured out that the Twins had sent the text, and headed to the address. He arrived a bit late because he walked the entire way, choosing not to use public transportation out of paranoia. The streets around the apartment weren't very busy so he acted as naturally as possible as he approached the door.

He knocked quickly on the apartment door, his face visible through the peephole as he made sure no one was watching him. As he waited, a pizza guy walked up behind him, and gave him a friendly smile. He motioned to the soda, and explained how he had forgotten to grab it when delivering the pizza. Zach's mouth watered at the thought of pizza, and he knocked again, a bit faster this time.

Dunn opened the door yet again, and was delighted to find that it wasn't just the pizza guy, but it was also Zach! Nice timing they had, showing up together, as he needed a soda and he also needed Zach. "C'mon in Zach, have a slice of pizza," Sparce said as he tipped the pizza guy for his service (rather nicely at that) and he took his drink, closing the door after Zach was inside and the pizza guy had left.

"Sorry to contact you guys on short notice, but we found something you guys might like to see when we... I went scouting earlier." The Twins were still curious on if they should refer to themselves as a group when speaking or if they should refer to themselves separately. "We've been conducting our own little investigations and such in our own time, and today we found something that dealt with someone quite large within the crime community. Y'guys have heard of Patriarch, right?"

As Dunn was talking, Gaia chimed into Dunn's thoughts and spoke, seemingly worried. "Hey... how long has it been since our last swap...?" "It's been like, what, a day almost?" "We'll be switching soon." "Don't worry about it just yet."

---

Watching intently the interaction, Chatterbox didn't bother trying to do anything, figuring their boss could handle himself, still, he winced as the alcohol was wasted.

Of course, then it was over...and then it got more interesting as one of the strangers in the room decided to lay a little beatdown on their friend. Of course, it was a little frustrating, after all they'd lost one of their members capturing Gamble and dealt with quite a few complications, and now he was apparently just trash.

Yeah, they did need to make him pay. Walking, he placed a hand on the shoulder of, what had it been? Ah, Thunderbolt. “Actually let's not kill him, it'd break the unspoken rules. You know, the ones that keep many of us alive,” he said with a smooth smile, “However, if you would,” he said, even as he grabbed a chair and sat it down near the cape, “I would just love to brainwash him properly, that way he won't be leading anyone back to us. Of course, it will take me...some time, but I think it will be worth the investment. We can have him spouting any lie we want in thirty minutes or so.” He grinned, a certain maliciousness in him even though he was suggesting the more humane option. After all, surviving as a thrall was certainly better than dying, wasn't it?

The truth was, Drake didn't care either way.

---

---

As they arrived at the interrogation room, bad news was made worse as more details were piled on to the little they'd learned before. By the end of it, Evelyn was gritting her teeth, and had had to make an effort to keep her fists from clenching. All the while her projection's shadow had been scanning those nearby. She was managing to keep her breathing somewhat calm as the villain flirted and attempted to give the PRT guard as much trouble as possible. She didn't like this 'Lovecraft,' already, and while every part of her wanted to volunteer to go in there just so she could beat the bastard...bitch(?) up, she didn't.

Then Ira spoke up and her eyes widened a bit as she glanced over at her teammate. Before she could stop herself she'd spoken, “Can we go in together?” She said, her outrage softening somewhat as she was reminded of Protean's little 'lesson'. She ammended her statement, “Actually, I will be going in with her. That way we can't be caught off guard no matter what.”

Then, remembering the Director's words she smiled a bit, feeling useful. ”Oh and before we go in, let me scan their powers.” She took in a deep breath, steadying herself, and extended her projection's shadow through the floor—unseen-- and then up and through a part of the villain's body. It was an imperceptible thing.

Swiftly a rush of information fell upon her, but she could handle it. The more times she did it, the easier it got to understand and the faster she could process the information by virtue of practice.

Physical form alteration, limitation: prime organ. Fine control. Limitation: Personal. Eliminates unwanted mutation. Nervous system alterations. Rapid changes.

Then, oddly, the process finished, the power apparently not terribly complex in nature...at least not on the surface. She took another moment to process the information then she opened her eyes. “Definitely a shifter. Seems to possess fine control over their own physical form and only their physical form down to micro scale. Probably can't alter their own brain I don't think. This is theory, but based on the fine control and the fact that it presumably extends to all organs, tissues, and structures other than the brain, this...Lovecraft, probably has a brute rating too. It might be good to have them restrained in...what did you call it? Containment foam. Anything that makes movement really difficult, but everywhere.” Finally done, she quieted down and waited, hoping she'd done a good enough job, and hoping she could get a crack at the villain. Of course, she was also sort of counting on Ira's presence in the room to make her not get violent.

For some reason she just hated the injustice of it. Hated it to her core. It was a little disturbing....

---

---

While he didn't much like the whole waiting to see if he was needed part, Outsider nodded at staying outside, but decided to speak up about the rest, “I'm with Kyoshi here, blowing a hole in the roof isn't a great idea. Both because of property damage, and well, we don't know how stable that building is. Better to play it safe, we are the heroes after all.”

He shrugged a bit, still a bit anxious to get things going, though the feeling was muted and...sort of far away. It would have been annoying, but that emotion was just as distant. He suppressed a sigh.

A sentence Chris had heard more than a couple times was spoken at her as a man sat down next to her. He was easygoing, teasing her about her age, her red hair, her stature, but in a nonconfrontational way. The man skipped the 'are we friends?' phase and went immediately to poking fun. At first Chris was worried he was calling over someone to kick her out, but he was just trying to get his drink refilled. As a waitress approached so did a tall black man, who greeted the man- the newcomer called him Lance- in a very similar way to how Chris had been greeted. He also commented on her age, which would've drawn a rude comment if not for the second sentence. Was she a mark? That sounded like something a pickpocket would call a target, or an assassin a victim or. . .

"What's a mark?" She asked, watching the two men carefully. Her voice was just loud enough to be heard, sounding strained and a little scared.

Where before Chris had automatically sacrificed person space without thinking, now she scooted away from Lance, eyeing him carefully. Her purse was still on her shoulder, zipped shut, and was it just her imagination or had the newcomer eyed it? A million eyes were suddenly on Chris, and she resisted the urge to pull her hood over her head. Her hand reached up, her thumb and index rubbing the material of her jacket between her fingers as she watched the two men. An exit plan started to form, a way to escape without getting chased, how she would twist their minds until they were useless.

Judah turned around at the sound of the door being knocked on again and headed back into the kitchen. He nodded at Zach as he entered. Then Dunn offered some pizza to Zach after the delivery guy left. He took hold of a soda and had a sip. Now that they were all together, strategies could be conceived. He only hoped that he didn't just sign himself up to work with a bunch of late adolescents. Getting young people involved with parahuman criminals like Patriarch was asking for something horrible to happen. He only hoped his leadership would prevent unnecessary casualties. At least Zach couldn't get hurt..

In response to Dunn's question, Judah replied,"His name gets thrown around at the FBI occasionally, but Zach and I had an indirect encounter with his ability.." Judah turned his head so they could see his neck and the black hand mark on it. After they got a good look at it he continued,"The loyalty he commands is something else. Before his death, a parahuman alluded to him after trying to kill me." Judah looked to Zach seeing if he wanted to continue the explanation.

Hm. A living shadow, or so he claimed... how interesting. Not as interesting, though, as Gamble's power failure simply from being in the Broker's presence. Apparently, he could negate powers of that sort even if they weren't in his direct proximity. Good to know, just in case the need to kill him presented itself. Ignoring Sofia's hopefully temporary lack of intelligence, Headhunter observed as Heartless pummelled Gamble to a near-pulp, then asked for assistance in removing him from the premises. He was about to offer his own services, but somebody else- another newcomer- had walked into the room, apologised for their lateness, then agreed to help Heartless remove the man from the premises. Permanently, if needed.

And that reminded Raymond that Gamble would probably talk if simply allowed to leave. Reveal their location, either to the PRT or another group that meant them poorly... under most circumstances, the only solution would be his death. Chatterbox's mentioning of the unspoken rules didn't exactly phase him, either, considering how he'd been breaking them discreetly for quite some time; however, his proposal that he turn Gamble into a thrall of his did seem interesting enough to work with. That in mind, Raymond strolled over to grab another chair, placed it in front of the chair currently occupied by the brainwashing cape, then pulled Gamble out of Heartless' grip and shoved him into it, standing behind it in readiness to keep him in place if need be.

A Denver Nightclub

@Nattook@solokolos

Lance shook his head and waved away James's concern. "Nah none of that, little red here just polished off my drink and seemed a little lost so I offered to show her around a bit." Lance grabbed the drink, winking at the waitress and giving her a bill of some unseen amount as a tip, fast hands. He glanced at Chris's darting eyes and how she seemed ready to bolt. "Now look what you've done, you've spooked her." Now addressing Chris he said, "You can bail if you want, seems like a waste to leave so soon though. A mark is just a suspicious fella, or a troublemaker, so you're good on at least one count." He said with a laugh and a slight shrug, taking a sip from his drink. It was calming how casual he was, or at least probably was. The club was still loud and active enough that nothing they were doing drew attention, as there were plenty other things to focus on. If Chris wanted to escape she could probably do without too much difficult unless James chased her, of course running right now would probably just make things more suspicious and difficult on her.

Rocker Warehouse

Shatterpoint injected Swarm with the drug, insuring he would stay asleep for a while. Swarm was also tied up and left on the floor for the time being. As for Creep. "Two days, there'll be information at the house where we found you. As for-" Before Shatterpoint could continue one of the hardhats ran into the building gesturing excitedly, "More intruders sir, on the rooftop of another buildings." Shatterpoint glanced at Swarm. The other hardhats all looked uncertainly at Shatterpoint, they'd already been attacked by Swarm and they had been pretty harrowing for most of them, they weren't looking forward to fighting another serious threat. Transporting and keeping him bound would be difficult and of marginal usefulness, however... he could be helpful in a different way. It depended on whether or not these were more villains. Of course if it wasn't necessary at all that would be best, perhaps he could sell off this pest somewhere. Shatterpoint scooped up Swarm and slung him over a shoulder. "Hold them off for as long as you can, then escape." Not that he thought that'd be more than a few minutes at the most, but it was better than nothing. Shatterpoint was of course headed off in the other direction that the intruders were coming from, there were a few places he could at least hide until these new problems left.

The girl (not woman, definitely girl) reacted poorly to what James said, and he could understand that. Before the waitress could leave, he gestured at her and whispered his order in her ear. He slipped a bill out of his pocket, and placed it in her hand. James thought for a second looking at little red, and then said another thing to the waitress before sitting down next to Lance. He didn't want to crowd the girl by trapping her. Lance had said she wasn't a mark and that was enough. Still, it was impressive that the girl managed to get in here.

"Call me paranoid, but I ask Lance that about anyone he talks to. The man hangs out with strange folk." He said, winking at the girl. His smile was warm and genuine, as he shifted to looking out at the dance floor. The waitress returned with two tall orange glasses, setting one in front of James and one in front of the young girl. "Whip cream vodka and sunny D" James said, more to the young girl then Lance. It was all he ever got after all. "I'm James by the way. Nice to meet you Little Red. If you sneak in here again I'll be supremely impressed."


Zach came in quickly, smiling warmly at the reception. He accepted Dunn's hospitality, and grabbed himself a slice of the pineapple pizza. Half of the twins started explaining why he had called them up, and the scouting he had done. He mentioned a name, Patriarch, and it sounded very familiar. Patriarch, Patriarch, Patriarch, why did he think he knew that name? Zach shook his head, and went to get another slice of pizza, having already scarfed down the first. It would be easy to infer he hadn't been eating well, and that wasn't too far off base. After getting the next slice he came back and shrugged, frowning.

"That name sounds really familiar but I just can't place it. I'm guessing he's a leading reason this city is rotting?" He asked, resorting to his pompous language at being slightly agitated at the thought.