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Peterson Estates
Passenger Island, Castleburg
Status: Getting his groove on
Speaks to: Dahlia [@baraquiel]
On a mission with: Wireframe [@Silver Carrot], Bastion [@Infinite Cosmos], Dahlia [@baraquiel], Gematria [@Scarifar], Alchemist [@Duoya]
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[indent][indent]Jake smirked playfully as the woman responded, taking her by the hand. All the other stuff she said about their 'goals aligning' and 'telling him everything he wanted to hear,' which perhaps should have at the very least gotten Jake thinking about this woman's identity, were silenced by Jake's man-brain turning into overdrive. [color=lightgreen]"I think that can be arranged. And I do have a way with my feet. I just hope that [i]you[/i] don't slow [i]me[/i] down,"[/color] Jake teased back, as his eyes scanned the room. He did notice Madison pairing up with...was that Toreador? Wow, she [i]really[/i] understood the goal of the assignment- she had sweet-talked her way all the way to the top. Toreador was an interesting sight at the party, but judging by the fact that Powers nor ALISA had not mentioned him, Jake assumed that he was not in the loop about the whole mission. But with his powers...well, he probably was now. 

Jake could've probably ditched the woman and went to go help Rupa or Megumi do their own infiltration, given that Madison seemed to have had the same idea with this whole dance situation. But even though Toreador seemed like a classy gentleman type that would probably be good at dancing, this opportunity was too important to allow to pass by. Plus, as mentioned earlier, man-brain. 

Jake observed some movement over by the stage, as some of the string instruments were now replaced by some brass and woodwind ones. Clearly a sign for what was to come. Indeed, just a few moments later, Peterson's wife Ada stood in the same spot that he just had before he went away on his business adventure. [color=lightgray]"I hope you all are ready for the dance of the evening, the paso doble!"[/color] She smiled. [color=lightgray]"You all know the drill! I know Sam usually takes the reigns on this, but it's the same story with me: I point at you, you're done. Last pair surviving wins tonight's prize."[/color]She looked over her shoulder at the instrumentalists. 
[color=lightgray]"Hit it!"[/color]

The musicians, on cue, went right into the song, a vivacious and fast-paced brass-heavy tune with a sharp, [i]staccato[/i] rhythm. Jake quickly straightened his posture and took a deep breath. The song was very fast, much faster than the average waltz or even tango that you would hear, meaning that most people would have to focus on making sure their footwork was on point and on time. Jake had the opposite problem. He was so used to his powers that the world always felt too slow for him, and both when he was and wasn't using his superpowers, he needed to always think slowly. With the dancing, it was no different. Jake had a good ear and did, in fact, have a way with his feet, as it had been so elegantly put. He wasn't a pro, but he was also much younger and more in-shape than most of the wealthy geezers at this event. When he was paired up with somebody else, though, Jake had to be extra-cautious to control his powers, otherwise he would be cha-cha-chaing his way into jail for involuntary manslaughter. Especially if the other person wasn't a metahuman.  Jake looked down at the young lady he was partnered with. Definitely not metahuman. He could tell. Though she did have this beauty mark on her face that seemed awfully familiar. Well, a lot of people had those. 

As the [url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F0y8_4dQZC0][i]paso doble[/i][/url] song trumpeted along, Jake guided his disguised teammate along with remarkable efficiency and poise. He would've liked to have made the claim that this was all his natural talent, and truthfully, maybe 10% of his dancing performance was. But he also did have the advantage of cheating, as ALISA, who Wiseman had allowed into the security mainframe of the estate, was watching the event through the cameras, and had been providing Jake with some pretty clear instructions to [color=turquoise]"turn, step, back, forward, turn, back, forward, slide, turn,"[/color] and so on. With those instructions hammering into his ears, Jake was able to far outperform his own untrained dancing skills. 

Through his peripheral vision, Jake saw the other grouchy rich couples get picked off like flies. He did notice that Toreador and Madison/Wireframe were still in it. Toreador was quite impressive for an old guy, so it seemed, though perhaps being able to anticipate your opponent's next move worked just as well for dancing as it did for combat. Hard to step on toes when you know when said toes were going to be, maybe. 

The group remaining on the floor continued to narrow and narrow, and Jake and his mystery (to some) partner persisted. ALISA was really doing a lot of the heavy lifting for Jake, though Jake noticed that his dancing companion was following him quite well. [color=lightgreen][i]Wouldn't it be funny if she had her own AI telling her how to move too?[/i][/color] he thought to himself. The crowd continued to thin, though, until the last two pairs left, incidentally, both included superheroes. Jake and Mystery Lady, and Madison and Toreador. Definitely not the betting favorites, definitely both pairs that had superpowers or other forms of outside help, but hey, when you invite a hero to a party, you shouldn't be too surprised when your party is ruined. 

A few instructed twists and turns later, and Ada Peterson pointed her finger at Toreador and Wireframe, ending their campaign and making the winner Blast and Dahlia. Jake wiped his forehead, which was admittedly a little sweaty, and looked at his spontaneous partner with a sweet, though modestly tired, smile. [color=lightgreen]"You're a pretty good dancer. We should totally do that again sometime,"[/color] he said cheerily, as Ada descended towards the two of them. 

[color=lightgray]"An incredible performance! The two of you were magnificent. Truly well-deserved."[/color] Ada clasped her hands together with a big smile. The woman looked like she could've easily been a model; wavy blonde hair, hourglass figure, sunkissed and unblemished skin, the whole shebang. [color=lightgray]"Why don't you head on down to the wine cellar? Head down that hallway and take the stairwell downstairs on your left; the guards won't bother you. My husband will join you once he's finished with his work business. Oh, he would've loved to see that dance! So good. Fantastic."[/color]

[color=lightgreen]"That sounds great to me,"[/color] Jake said as he swiftly made his way towards the stairwell he was directed to; the guards, indeed, allowed them to pass right by. Jake descended the stairs into the basement slowly. [color=lightgreen]"You know, I'm not really interested in the bottle of wine. You can take that. I might just take a quick detour when I get down there. I never got your name, by the way."[/color]

Before Dahlia could respond, though, another voice cut into Jake's ear, speaking onto the communications wavelength that everybody on the manor mission was using. [color=turquoise]"It's Eva, you know."[/color]

[color=lightgreen]"One sec,"[/color] Jake said to Eva as he turned away, pressing his ear. The irony, of course, being that she was hearing the exact same commentary. [color=lightgreen]"What?"[/color] 

The communication channel was filled with the semi-creepy sound of the AI’s robotic laughter, that quickly cut off back to the monotonous, cool female voice that ALISA used. [color=turquoise]"The person you were dancing with. Eva. Evangeline. AKA Dahlia?"[/color]

Jake blinked a couple of times, looking at the woman before him. [color=lightgreen]"Umm...well...err..."[/color] The dots slowly began to connect in his mind. Why she had a familiar-looking face, why she had seemed kind of surprised when Jake had approached her, why she also said that she had business with Peterson. It also explained why Jake hadn't seen the actual woman around the estates before. As he came to this realization, his face slowly started to turn red as he scratched the back of his head. [color=lightgreen]"Eva! Yeah. Umm. I knew that. Umm. Hi! New hair?"[/color] He snapped out of his embarrassed stupor- at least partially- a few seconds later. [color=lightgreen]"Right. Well, now that we're here, umm...what were we doing here again? Oh right. Somewhere down here there's some hidden space, right? So maybe we should, y'know, push some walls and see if there's a hidden doorway or something."[/color]

Before he turned to do this, his face still a little red, he gave a half grin. [color=lightgreen]"Good job keeping up with me, though."[/color]

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If Toreador, on the other hand, was disappointed by his loss, he didn't show it. He gave some courteous applause as the winners were announced, before quickly picking up a glass of champagne and approaching Wireframe once again, sipping the narrow flute slowly as he looked down at the much younger heroine. 

[color=IndianRed]"Unfortunate defeat; I was looking forward to depriving old Sam from another piece of his collection. But as for you... impressive footwork nonetheless. A damned good effort for somebody that is, well, a little out of touch. Your colleagues- our colleagues, I suppose- will be happy with their spoils, and I think you should be happy with yourself. Not just for this whole dance situation, but..."[/color] He took a long, slow sip from his glass. [color=IndianRed]"I'm familiar with your background. You're a very marketable type of young woman. Interesting power, the look and personality of somebody that can be a star, and most importantly, an excellent attitude. I think you're turning yourself into some prime Junker material. Or at least, you're on the road towards something like that."[/color]

Toreador continued. [color=IndianRed]"If I could offer some advice? Be careful about the type of people you choose to associate yourself with. I know 'people can change' and all that nonsense, but the truth is, who you were growing up remains with you. Take your colleague, Dahlia, for instance."[/color] Toreador craned his neck in the general direction of where the disguised woman had departed. [color=IndianRed]"She is somebody that, try as she might, could never dare to escape her past. She's ashamed of who she is, and to cope with that, she continues living out her life but under the facade of being a superhero. It may sound like a harsh truth, my dear, but there are some of us who were just destined for greatness."[/color] Toreador looked down at Wireframe, his steely eyes not betraying a single hint of emotion. [color=IndianRed]"I think you could be one of those people. With some careful cultivation of image and, of course, keeping up your hard work."[/color]

Toreador finished his drink, now twirling the empty glass between his fingers expertly, like it was some type of fidget toy. The fancy crystal probably cost less to him than a cheap fidget toy would to the average person, in fairness. [color=IndianRed]"Oh, but I don't mean to monologue, just offer some advice. And speaking of advice, listen closely."[/color] Toreador's tone, which was already quiet and deep, became even more hushed. [color=IndianRed]"I know Peterson's reputation. He may be a foolish man, but he's no villain. Somebody else is pulling the strings here. Somebody cunning."[/color] His hawkish eyes flitted left and right, making sure he wasn't being overheard. [color=IndianRed]"I don't intend on taking any type of action here today, so don't plan on my help. As I said, one's image is crucial to one's success. But I would recommend checking on some of your friends. Both your little friends above-"[/color] Toreador raised his index and middle finger up, pointing both at the ceiling, [color=IndianRed]"and below."[/color] He now pointed both fingers downstairs. [color=IndianRed]"My powers are rarely wrong, and they're telling me that they might soon be in...grave danger."[/color] He looked solemnly at her again, examining her, perhaps probing her thoughts as well. [color=IndianRed]"I'd make a choice if I were you. Oh, and try not to do too much damage to this estate. It's historic."[/color]

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Peterson's study was a cozy room upstairs. Dark oak walls and majestically-carpeted floors gave it a sense of regality, but a number of framed posters, both in the news sphere (with a number of framed articles on the walls from the various Peterson enterprises) and from the entertainment sphere (some framed, signed movie posters adorned the wall as well). He also had a big wooden desk with some paperwork on it, his laptop, and strangely, some type of toy robot. [color=lightgray]"I don't remember leaving that there...huh. I guess the IT guys get more creative every day. Well, better not mess with it."[/color] He looked over to Rupa. [color=lightgray]"I need to take this call, but look at some of these posters while you're at it! Some very exclusive ones. There's me as a young man with Sir Alec Guinness...there's me on the set of [i]The Crow-[/i] the original, not the travesty of a remake, though what happened to poor Brandon was awful...oh, and there's me at Cannes! I was actually a feature film juror one year. Anyway, look at some of those memories! Oh, and leave those burgers on my desk."[/color] With those commentaries, Peterson took his phone call.

Peterson was certainly a strange fellow, and a self-obsessed one at that, but despite the fact that he loved to talk about himself and that he was taking an important work call while wolfing down his chef's special-made sliders with impunity, there was nothing truly suspicious in the room. Gematria could find records of the transactions that HERO had already uncovered, along with a number of recent investments in a construction company called "Michaels & Co. Contracting Corp" whose only recorded jobs were trying to clean up the old Fixeon Recycling Plant in Brookside, but outside of that, no damning evidence on the phone. And his phone call seemed to be purely newspaper-and-communications company-related. Nothing overly suspicious about that either, outside of the fact, again, that he was literally eating entire slides in one bite. But being disgusting, generally, wasn't a crime. 

A few minutes later, Peterson finished the phone call, hanging up and putting his phone away. [color=lightgray]"Sorry about that. I run a big company, and I have to deal with a lot of unwanted business at unwanted hours."[/color] He sighed. [color=lightgray]"The truth is, business hasn't been that great recently. Expanding out of just doing news and telecommunications and branching into entertainment cost a lot of money that I haven't recouped. There's a lot of trolls out there, too. They really drag business down."[/color] He looked down at his desk idly, before looking back at Rupa fondly. [color=lightgray]"But that's what leads me to you! Here's my proposition."[/color] He devoured another whole burger, speaking with his mouth full excitedly. [color=lightgray]"The guys I have working in Cinepedia and Spoiled Cucumbers and whatnot...they don't take film that seriously, and they're also like me. They're old."[/color] He finally swallowed that burger. [color=lightgray]"I need young people in this business. But not just any young people. Young people that [i]know[/i] the industry, and that love movies. Not that 'I see a movie on a date once a month or some nonsense.' People that really, truly, love the cinema and the hard work that goes behind the silver screen."[/color] Peterson smiled after completing his grandstanding speech. [color=lightgray]"I think you have a chance to be that person. And truth be told, well, you remind me a bit of my daughter."[/color] He looked down at a photo on his desk. [color=lightgray]"She's away at college right now, but she has that sort of sharp wit and respect for art that few people your age have anymore. Sometimes I think the world needs more-"[/color]

[color=lightgray]"[i][b]KILLING![/b][/i]"[/color]

Peterson, out of the blue, had changed suddenly. His sclera was now bloodshot and had a distinct yellowish tint to it, his pupils looked almost ragged, he was salivating like he was a rabid dog, and his body was twitching sporadically. He looked at Rupa, hissing like he was some type of snake. [color=lightgray]"Must. Kill. Hero. You. Hero. Must. [i]DIE![/i]"[/color] And with that very sudden change, Peterson reached into his drawer, removing a black handgun. Peterson (or perhaps more aptly "Peterson" at this point) tested the weight of the handgun, before levering it at Rupa. The billionaire then spoke, his normally jovial and pompous voice now entirely replaced with a hissing, raspy-sounding voice. [color=lightgray]"You have done enough snooping into my business, hero. You, and all your friends, are done here."[/color]

He then wrapped his finger around the trigger of the handgun, which was currently aimed right at Rupa's forehead. 
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[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]
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[indent][indent]Fortunately for the heroes gathered in Brookside, the stench from the abandoned recycling plant was so bad, that the stench of the fungus-exploded Terrazards might not have been all that bad. It was still [i]really[/i] bad, but at least it was a change from the nasty smell in the air that stank of both melted plastics and mildew. 

Though Mire had easily dispatched a number of Terrazards, the problem about them wasn't that they were inanely dangerous, but that they just kept coming. Mire's trick had given them a moment of downtime, but that just seemed to be the eye of the storm, as the Terrazards quickly bounced back for Round 2. And bounce back they did. Hordes and hordes of them flooded out of the big hole in the side of the wall of the recycling plant. So much so that, at a certain point, the concern was no longer the lizards. The lizards were dangerous to regular people, but there were a number of heroes, or perhaps even some non-heroes with good enough equipment, that could kill them with ease. The problem was whoever was putting them there in the first place. Terrazards were never present in these large quantities. Maybe small groups. Maybe LARGE groups. Whatever this was, was a veritable army. Who was making this army?

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[color=lightgray]"So, is it really true that Cadaver is gonna be here?"[/color]

[color=lightgray]"Yea, bro, that's what the boss said."[/color]

[color=lightgray]"How does the boss know?"[/color]

[color=lightgray]"What, you don't trust him?"[/color]

[color=lightgray]"That's not at [i]all[/i] what I said, you lying piece of-"[/color]

[color=chocolate]"Enough, you two."[/color]

The piercing voice of the third person silenced the first duo, with his words echoing throughout the large recycling plant. It was, in fact, really big, being a facility that once was supposed to manage the recyclables of some 4 million or so people. The facility's interiors made a warehouse look small. However, it now looked like a total dump- even moreso than it did when it was an [i]actual[/i] dump. The concrete floor had broken down and had large areas of exposed dirt. The network of conveyor belts and machinery that ran around the facility was beaten-up and rusty from years of unuse. There were, most importantly, massive piles of junk- mostly crushed plastics, hammered neatly into massive cuboids- piled up against the walls and even in the middle of the facility. The living people that were talking were sitting on a two beaten-up teal sofas that had exposed springs and torn fabric, both of which were positioned next to the most interesting part of the facility. The massive ravine.

The hole in the ground was enormous, large enough that even a giant could fit into it if they were careful. For regular people, there appeared to be several rickety-looking yellow ladders that led into the depths of the massive chasm. Most curious was what was coming out of the chasm. A number of loud noises that sounded like machines hard at work, and even more disturbing, tons and tons of Terrazards. Terrazards that, strangely, didn't seem to be interested in eating the people that were sitting next to the hole that they were emerging from.

The people that were there were quite strange-looking as well. Two of them looked exactly the same. Two thin, tall, white guys with pale skin and spiky blonde hair, done in the exact same manner. They were also wearing extremely similar-looking clothing, both adorned in white, dirty tank tops and oversized jeans with sneakers. The main difference between the two were two facial tattoos- one of them had a facial tattoo on his forehead that had a big number "one" on it, while the other had a facial tattoo on his right cheek with a big number "two." They were joined by a massive, bulky individual sitting silently on the couch, wearing a hoodie that covered his face and remaining silent, and the individual that commanded attention, a man wearing a hefty bomber jacket and, most curiously, a full-head gas mask that obscured his identity. 

[color=chocolate]"I've just heard back from our employer. They're here."[/color]

The two twins high-fived each other excitedly as the gas mask man spoke again. [color=chocolate]"They're handling the Terrazards well. I would've hoped that the Leftovers would've gotten at least one casualty, but it is what it is. We should expect them to be here any moment now."[/color]

The person on the couch finally spoke up, his voice extremely deep. [color=MediumVioletRed]"Should we wait here?"[/color]

[color=chocolate]"For now. That is our plan. Everything is going just how we were told it would,"[/color] the gas mask individual said once more. [color=chocolate]"As we also were informed, they have an ICOSA agent watching over them. Which means they have to be extra careful not to let Terrazards flood into the city under their watch. Somebody will have to stay back to make sure they don't. And when the heroes split up...we split them."[/color]

The hoodie person on the couch nodded his head as the twins seemed to be hyping each other up and making bets about who would kill a hero first. Gas Mask turned away, opening his palm, in which a small fire formed. [color=chocolate]"Worst case scenario...we've been given permission to use the special weapon."[/color]

The twins both paused their fanfare, looking shocked at the man. [color=lightgray]"You can't be-"[/color]

[color=chocolate]"Only if we fail to defeat them right away. Which I expect should not be too difficult."[/color] Gas Mask chuckled, the fire in his palm growing even larger and hotter. [color=chocolate]"I'm waiting for you, Cadaver. Waiting a long time for this."[/color]

[color=chocolate]"It's about time you learnt your lesson."[/color]
[/indent][/indent][hr][sub][color=turquoise]Mission Control has been updated with necessary information.[/color][/sub]