[color=ed1c24][center][h2]Martyr: PRT Headquarters[/h2][/center][/color]
Dean huffed in annoyance as the enigmatic Epsilon holstered her gun, stopped providing back up, and ran into the new girl's arms. The least she could have done if she thought he had the situation under control, was hop into his arms. Even if she wasn't super attractive, she was still kind of cute, and the gesture was always nice.

It didn't matter. The drone caught his attention back, assuring the clone it had no weapon systems. He also offered to tell his whole life story, trying to garner some sympathy maybe? Well it didn't matter, Dean didn't care about him, and Tulpa confirmed it had no weapons on it. Even if she was wrong or lying, Margrave and Decoy were both on stand by and, as much as Dean hated to admit it, Margrave was suited for this job. Dean sheathed his blade and made his way back over to Sonar.

The situation was wrapping up it seemed. Decoy had things under control, the ladies were having a chat, and Margrave was on stand by just in case things went bad. But things never slowed down for a hero. As soon as Sonar started to suggest they actually go do some damn training, his little ears perked up. He had heard the footsteps of a Community nasty near the building and insisted going to clean up. If it truly was a high ranker, than Dean was absolutely down with taking a little walk outside.

As Sonar dashed off, Dean followed, quickly catching up and reaching the elevator at just about the same time as his leader even though he was farther from the door. Guess this was why he ran track for so much of his life. As Sonar hit the lobby button and held the door open for the rest of his allies, Dean checked his equipment. Everything seemed to be here, blade, boomerang, grappling hook, everything. As Ira walked through the elevator, slightly winded, Dean stretched himself out a bit. He had no dreams of dying by a sprained ankle.