A low whistle of amazement escaped Jacque's lips as he witnessed the grand unfurling of Rose's wings. It was at times such as this that he envied metahumans and their natural gifts. He began to ponder much easier would things be for him if he didn't actually have to spend nearly every moment of his free time talking to spirits, pouring over one spell book after another, or brewing only god knew how many experimental potions until he got the mix right. Joshua's violent reaction to being mocked snapped Jacque from his inner musings, eliciting from the bokor a small gasp of surprise. He settled himself for a moment, then gave a somewhat forced chuckle. No one seems to have any issue with the plan from what he could tell "[b][color=00746b]I think everyone's just about agreed to adhere to their role. So yeah, plan still stands.[/color][/b]". -- [h3]Blüdhaven City Docks, Pier Six October 7, 2166 1900 EDT[/h3] A cold wind swept through the docks of Blüdhaven as the icy chill of winter drew ever nearer. A sky that only a month ago would have still been illuminated with the warm rays of light from the sun rapidly darkened as the star dipped below the horizon, bathing the city instead in the pale light of a waxing moon. A large man by the name of Gregory Barton huddled into the warm faux fur that lined his coat to stave off the bite of the icy wind. He hated the cold with a passion, and wished for all the world that he could be somewhere warmer. Cameroon for example, or maybe Fiji. Fiji was probably a good place to be right about now. His position as Jacob Black's right hand man ensured that he had more than enough money to make the trip- as well as ensure that he'd get hold of some quality blow to snort off of some chick's stomach- but then money wasn't the issue. The issue right now was a client by the name of Cornelius Chesterfield Cobblepot, a brat with more money than sense and an obsession with telling people about- and trying to imitate- his ancestor, The Penguin. Rather than just entrusting the guns being brought in to be handled to just any batch of workers in Jacob's ranks, Cobblepot had kicked up a fuss and shelled out big bucks with the insistence that only the best of Jacob's men would do for this job. Of course that now meant that good old Greg had to sit out in the cold for god knew how long as he oversaw the operation. A bunch of bribed security and police officers, a dozen armed men for security, another dozen for moving the goods, a boatload of guns, and a moving truck, all in all neat little operation had been put under Greg's supervision. It was nice to know that he was trusted to do a job for such a lofty, albeit extremely annoying client. After a quick check in with the guards and Jacob made his way into one of the warehouses that sat along the dock. He had to be there, but he'd be damned if he sat out in the cold the whole time. The security team continued along their designated routes as their boss went to shelter himself from the cold, all the while unaware of the team of heroes waiting in the darkness for their opportunity to strike.