[center][img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/240626/3afd0ff6c945a1a139cc6764b09dedfc.png[/img][/center]
[quote][sub][color=lightgreen]
Peterson Estates
Passenger Island, Castleburg
Status: Infiltrating
Speaks to: Gematria [@Scarifar], Dahlia [@baraquiel]
On a mission with: Wireframe [@Silver Carrot], Bastion [@Infinite Cosmos], Dahlia [@baraquiel], Gematria [@Scarifar], Alchemist [@Duoya]
[/color][/sub][/quote]
[indent][indent]Blast nodded as the toy/girl [color=lightgreen](not sure which one to go with here)[/color] explained her thought process. Made sense. Bathroom vents would likely vent outside; the good vents were somewhere deeper in the building. Luckily, as Gematria just explained, HERO's resident hackerman had given them a vague blueprint to the building and, more importantly, ability to override security. Jake was growing to appreciate nerds more and more. [color=lightgreen]"I think I can get you to the ideal spot."[/color] Jake looked at his watch. [color=lightgreen]"OK, according to these blueprints there's some sort of library on this floor, which is directly beneath Peterson's private office upstairs. If you can find a vent or something, I can drop you off and you can sneak right in. Damn, this might actually going according to plan!"[/color] Blast opened his bag again. [color=lightgreen]"So, uhh, one more quick trip in the bag. Sorry."[/color]

After hiding Gematria back in the bag, Jake quickly exited the bathroom and made his way through the halls of Peterson Estates. There were a bunch of portraits of what Blast assumed were the current Peterson's ancestors, given the old-timey clothing many of them were wearing. Dude came from [i]old[/i] money. He took a couple more glances at his watch as he navigated through the large estate. He would [i]really[/i] love to have used his powers right now; now he knew how all these other slowpokes felt when they were trying to go from point A to point B. After making a couple wrong turns, Blast pushed open the old mahogany doors of Peterson's personal library. It was an impressive room, and while it wasn't as big as an actual city library, it was quite the collection for a private owner. Jake had assumed Peterson was some dumb-dumb rich heir who could only maintain his wealth by investing in criminal enterprise, but maybe he actually had some noggin in there. Only a smart person would even think of reading so many books. Or maybe all these books belonged to the actually intelligent members of the Peterson clan, and Sam Peterson just inherited the library like the rest of the mansion.

Either way, Jake had a job to do. After looking left and right to confirm the library was, in fact, empty (it of course was- Peterson didn't invite any bookworms, apparently), Jake quickly unslung his bag and threw it like a frisbee, sending it spinning through the air and landing perfectly on top of one of the bookshelves. He was proud of his throw for about 1 second before remembering that there was an [i]actual person[/i] inside the bag. That could've ended really badly.

Jake zoomed over to the bookshelf that he had so casually thrown Gematria onto, looking up at the top. He lowered his tone to a whisper. [color=lightgreen]"Umm, sorry about that. Hope that didn't hurt too bad."[/color] Jake looked left and right again to confirm that the library was still empty. [color=lightgreen]"Alright, I think you should be able to get to the vent from up there.  And, uhh, do your thing. And keep us in the loop, obviously. I gotta run before people realize how long I've been gone, but less us know once you find out that Peterson is, like, super evil or whatever. Or that he has Gholem hidden under his bed. So, umm, yeah. Gotta run, good luck!"[/color] And with that, Jake sped out of the library. Being around so many books was starting to hurt. 

Jake got a [i]little[/i] impatient and turned on his powers just enough to give him a modest, though not extreme, boost in speed as he sped-walk his way back to the ballroom, which had filled even more with people as they continued to trickle in. As Jake needled his way through the crowd, the whole ballroom was brought to a hush by the sound of a fork being clanged against a champagne glass repeatedly.

Peterson had arrived.

Samuel Peterson was not the type of person that generally would turn heads at parties. He was shorter than average, standing around 5'6" or 5'7", and was slightly portly, with frizzy gray hair and a bushy gray mustache. He looked like if Einstein met the Roaring Twenties, not like the rest of the crowd, most of whom were fairly glamorous-looking people. He also, more importantly, did not look like a villain of any kind. But looks could be deceiving. 

Peterson extended his arms as he turned his head to examine the crowd. He was wearing a classic tuxedo and standing on an elevated platform, next to the group of musicians that had been providing the music for the evening. [color=lightgray]"Greetings, all. Thank you for making the time to come this evening. It's my absolute honor to host such wonderful people. I hope everybody has been enjoying the refreshments, but I also hope that none of you over-indulged. Because you all know what time it is!"[/color]

Jake, in fact, did not know what time it was. Well, it was just past 7:20, but Jake suspected that was not going to be the answer to the man's question.

[color=lightgray]"Our [i]annual ballroom dancing competition![/i]"[/color]

Well, unexpected, but it could've been a lot worse. Jake was half-expecting Peterson to drop nets from the ceiling and capture them all then and there. 

[color=lightgray]"We only have a couple of newcomers, but I'll explain how this works just to be on the safe side. Our lovely instrumentalists will perform some equally lovely tunes for us, and at the end I choose from all the pairs a winner. And of course, your prize will be some shares in Peterson Communications and, most importantly, a tour of my wine cellar, which you'll be happy to know was ranked third in the world amongst personal collections for its breadth and quality of wines by the International Association of Sommeliers. Oh, and you can each take home a choice of one bottle of wine from my personal collection!"[/color]

Jake turned away from the crowd, sneaking a peak at his watch to confirm something he had thought earlier. His lingering thought was correct: the Peterson wine cellar was in the basement of the estate, right next to a large unidentified room. That was, of course, [i]super[/i] suspicious, and this would be a good chance to bypass security and get into the proximity of the area. Plus, the prizes didn't sound bad. Chicks digged nice wine. Plus, those stocks sounded pretty good, though if the mission went the way HERO thought it would, it might not be very valuable shares for very long. 

Jake's train of thought was interrupted by Peterson's speaking. The same time that Jake had looked down to take a peak at his watch, Peterson had looked down to take a peak at his cell phone. [color=lightgray]"Unfortunately, ladies and gentlemen, I will have to miss out on the event due to some emergency work obligations. Yes, I'm as disappointed as you are! In my stead, my lovely wife Ada will judge the dancers!"[/color] Peterson gestured across the room to a blonde woman at least 20 years his junior, who gave a demure wave.[color=lightgray]"My apologies again, but this is urgent. But best of luck to all!"[/color] And with that, Peterson stepped off the stage, and the musicians flipped through some sheet music as they prepared. 

[center]¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤[/center]
Whatever the hero Cloudburst had to say or think regarding Wireframe would remain unknown, as a strange hand patted itself on Cloudburst's shoulder. Cloudburst immediately turned in shock, gave what appeared to be a salute, and disappeared into the crowd. This revealed the source of the hand: a tall, older man with combed-back silver hair and a well-trimmed goatee, dressed in a sleek black three-piece suit with a red tie. This, of course, was Emilio Marquez, or the superhero Toreador. He was one of the most well-known heroes in the city back in the day, and though he didn't spend as much of his time on the frontlines anymore, he was still a legend in the hero community.

[color=IndianRed]"Ms. Weaver. I don't think we've ever met in person before,"[/color] Toreador said, looking down at Maddie with his cold, blue-gray eyes. His facial structure and those eerie eyes made him look very hawk-like in a strange way. [color=IndianRed]"I hope I didn't interrupt a conversation, I just wanted to say hello. Your father-"[/color]

It was around this time that Peterson gave his speech about the dancing competition or whatever, at which point Toreador stopped mid-sentence and listened. Once Peterson walked off due to his work issues, Toreador's eyes re-fixed themselves on Wireframe. [color=IndianRed]"I suppose that was good timing, as I'm in need of a partner myself, and I daresay you won't find a better ballroom dancer than yours truly."[/color] The corner of Marquez's lip turned upwards into the slightest grin. [color=IndianRed]"Shall we? I believe we have much to discuss. And I'm sensing that whatever reason you have for being here...perhaps a spot of dancing might further your aim."[/color]

Toreador was one of the most capable telepaths in HERO's history, and it seemed as though he could see right through people with those bird-of-prey eyes. He was certainly an interesting character in HERO, and definitely a bad enemy to make.

[center]¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤[/center]
As others began to pair up, Jake had quickly moved over to the drinks table and downed two flutes of champagne. After all, this [i]was[/i] a party, and he needed to lighten up in order to do more party-ing. He then dropped both glasses into the trash can. Jake didn't imagine that rich people used the dishwasher. Buying new champagne glasses was probably like buying new sticks of gum for a regular person. Besides, Peterson was [i]probably[/i] going to jail after this anyway. The state of his party equipment would soon be the least of his concerns, unless he paid his attorneys with glassware.

Jake turned back to the crowd as he looked through for somebody that was not a fossil but also looked like they might either A) know how to dance and/or B) know something about Peterson and have some useful intel for him. Jake's eyes eventually settled on somebody that looked conspicuous enough to be worth a shot. A woman that was probably around his age with brown hair, wearing a pretty black dress and fur coat. Definitely rich-looking, possibly associated with Peterson, given that she was here. Check, check. Jake adjusted his tie before making his other, putting on his best winning smile as he approached through the crowd.

[color=lightgreen]"Miss, would you like this dance?"[/color] Jake asked with a wink as he extended a hand. [color=lightgreen]"I've never been to one of these parties before. You know, I've always heard Peterson's been into some shady stuff. You know anything about that?"[/color]

This definitely was not the most nuanced approach, though that wouldn't matter, as Jake had. of course, approached his own colleague Dahlia in disguise. One day he would learn to pay attention, maybe, but evidently today was not that day. 

[center]¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤[/center]
Peterson made his way across the ballroom, but before he left, he turned to look at one of the waitresses that was holding a tray. [color=lightgray]"I must say, I heard about your discussion on Pulp Fiction from across the room. Good taste in film. You know, Mr. Willis was actually supposed to make a guest appearance tonight, but he had to cancel, unfortunately. Other plans!"[/color] Peterson gave a hearty rich-person laugh. [color=lightgray]"Still, you have an impressive knowledge of film! After my work call, I'd love to offer you an entry-level position at Cinepedia. A young lady like you shouldn't be wasting around as waitstaff!"[/color] He chuckled to himself. [color=lightgray]"You know, I always knew I had a good eye for talent. Even when I'm just hiring for events, I find diamonds in the rough! Come meet me upstairs in my study. Oh, and bring some of those...what did you call them? Mini Royales with cheese? Hilarious! Bring a bunch of those with you. Chef Cazenave continues to impress..."[/color]

And with that, Peterson walked out of the ballroom and made his way up the stairs, flanked by a couple of security guards. Rupa's cinephilia had gotten her a one-way ticket right into the lion's den. 
[/indent][/indent][hr]
[quote][sub]
Outside Fixeon Municipal Recycling Plant
Brookside, Castleburg
Being observed: Crane [@Zoey Boey], Lab Rat [@Silver Carrot], Blur Rabbit [@DClassified], Ardent [@manythings], Terraformer [@shylarah], Freakshow [@Crusader Lord], Mire [@Blizz]
[/sub][/quote]
[indent][indent]Mari did not appreciate being told what to do by some random hacker in her ear. She was, of course, familiar with Wiseman's capabilities as a supergenius, and was well-aware of his technological skillset. But she was not expecting to hear his voice come through her headset and start barking orders. She made a sour face as she reached a hand up, tapping her earpiece, before responding.

[color=F52A23]"If you're as much of a genius as the files say, you know I'm not going to shoot anybody, [i]cabrón.[/i] They gave me this because I know how to use it,"[/color] she retorted with flair. Despite her heated response, though, she did uncurl her finger from the trigger, instead wrapping her second hand comfortably around the grip of the weapon. She put her eye up against the scope again, observing the scene and returning to her job. The heroes had almost all gotten out and now appeared to all be heatedly speaking with one another. Of course. What a great start to this mission.

Mari moved the weapon to the left to observe the hole near the facility. Strangely, it appeared to be empty. That meant one of two things- either the Terrazards had gone back to their little hidey-hole after seeing the group of heroes or, two, they were rapidly on the move. A quick shift of the scoped weapon back revealed the answer. The Terrazards, almost as if they had been suddenly spooked or commanded, were now moving towards the group of heroes and their convoy vehicles. There had to be at least 20 or 25 of them total, and the creatures were moving quickly, some of them rushing head on and some of them moving at an angle, likely trying to form some type of pincer movement.

Mari hesitated before wrapping her finger once again around the trigger, lifting her eye to the rifle, and a second later, fired. One of the charging Terrazards was caught squarely in the stomach, and while their skin was tough, the ICOSA-issued sniper rifle was much tougher, as the bullet cut directly through the Leftover and caused it to drop to its side. More importantly, though, the sound of the gunshot was quite loud, and it would definitely alert the heroes if they were close to paying attention, and was the reason Mari took the shot. True, Mari had only been designated to observe and act defensively only, but if the Terrazards caught the group unaware, there would be nobody left to observe and a lot of cleaning up to do. Mari reached her hand back to her earpiece again. 

[color=F52A23]"Instead of bossing me around, how about you tell your comrades to pay attention before they get eaten alive, hmm? Terrazards are going to be at their location in less than a minute."[/color] She spoke vexedly through the compromised communication system, as she cleared the empty shell casing from the gun and began to load another round. [color=F52A23]"And I was told you were supposed to be at an evaluation."[/color]

[/indent][/indent][hr]