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[hr][b][I]Protectorate HQ
June 19, 9:08 AM[/I][/b]


Val watched Shattercrash's introduction with a modicum of interest in seeing her power in action.

Her powers were pink, too? His decision to refer to her as the Neon eyesore felt ever more validated at the realisation. Who knew he was psychic?

His eyes traced the trail of her energy blast until it hit a wall. Even then, as the kinetic energy dispersed throughout the material of the room, he still kept track of its effects.

Val sensed more than he felt the vibrations of Shattercrash's little demonstration. An ordinary person might have been bothered by it, but that wasn't the case for him anymore. Instead, he was more interested in whatever the material was that the room was made from. It was weird, to say the least. Weird in a way that he couldn't quite understand, yet. There wasn't much he could glean from its capabilities. It was still a bit off-putting how much [i]more[/i] his power made him aware of sometimes. Cool, too. If you could get past all the negatives, that is. Eh, it could've been worse. He could have been stuck with–

Suddenly the door was flung open once again, and a new person stepped in. This time, it wasn't a Ward, nor was it anyone Val even vaguely recognised. So, probably not a member of the Protectorate, then. The newcomer introduced himself as the Vice-director of the PRT. His name faded into irrelevance in Val's mind, but something else he said didn't.

Val's fingers paused.

A bank robbery?

.... Maybe this day wouldn't be so boring after all.

That said, the change did require confirmation on something. To that end, Val raised a hand languidly, barely waiting a moment before asking the only question he needed answered.

[colour=silver]"So, "excessive force". Is that a thing or...?"[/colour]

The words left an odd taste in his mouth. He never quite understood what all of the fuss was about. He considered it a job well done as long as the enemy was down and out for the count. That [i]was[/i] the miss-job in the end, right? And they were bad guys, too. Still, he'd rather ask now than later be reprimanded for pow–[i]breaking[/i] a few too many bones. It wasn't even a big deal anyway; people had like a hundred of them.

Out of the corner of his eye, Val noticed the rat-bird had shot up in height significantly. It was practically the size of a building now!

Would he crumble like one too?