Waiting...waiting...waiting...boom. It was practically theatrical and while it hadn't gone as smoothly as he thought--which in retrospect made perfect sense--things did eventually turn out. Though, hopefully Gamble was unharmed, that was the only thing he was worried about. He waited as the cars rolled, taking in deep breaths and getting a bit of adrenaline pumping, Chatterbox considered what his next course of action was to be.
He glanced out of cover, then ducked back in as soldiers finally crawled from the convoy's downed vehicles and open fired. Almost immediately Arsenal laid down covering fire and Headhunter took out at least two of their men. It was loud, he really hadn't expected it to be this loud, but he'd have to make due somehow. Then Sofia was next to him, yelling something. He paid her more mind and caught the important part of her words. She could protect him from fire, probably let him get close. He opened his mouth and yelled back, "Can I trust that your power will keep me safe while I get almost on top of them?!" Then he awaited her answer. Hopefully it was yes, because if so it meant he could devote time to specifically 'talking down' each soldier--and there weren't that many. This would allow him to first make them less accurate, then make them lower their weapons, then finally listen to his commands which would make it much easier for them to handle the capes--wherever they were--and take Gamble.
If she couldn't get him that close, well, it would just mean that he'd be yelling quite a bit. Man he wished his power worked through megaphones....
Evelyn Chambers - Tulpa
She didn't even acknowledge Dean's suggestion, though she internally admitted that it was pretty smart--though tinkertech could be finicky. Hopefully toyifying such things wouldn't ruin any of the parts. She almost spoke up regarding this, but instead decided she'd say something in bit.
While so far she'd been pretty disinterested, or at least detached, from the meeting, she couldn't help but perk up when Ira mentioned she'd made something. Her gaze being drawn to the table, she felt her projection shift into the table itself--hidden from her teammates--before she continued the action her subconscious had elicited, and had it poke an ethereal tendril into the device. Immediately her head spun and she caught herself on the table, withdrawing the tendril. She had gotten materials, but there was so much more than that weaved into Ira's creation that it made her head spin.
Perhaps she could convince the tinker to make something really really simple in function one day so she could adjust to 'reading' its data with her projection. Recovering swiftly she suddenly heard Messiah speak, her voice full of emotion. She looked at her teammate and her eyes widened slightly, tears forming as they did.
She stood up abruptly as they breakdown began, and almost walked across the room to comfort Messia--no, Alessa. There was a pit in her stomach and emotions rolling around within it. She was empty, but also too full. The anger had helped drain away the intensity of the emotions, which was why she could hold it together, but the feelings were still definitely there.
She sat back down...too unsure of herself, her place in the team, and what was appropriate to go and hug Alessa. She watched the demonstration, or well...was affected by it. When she felt her projection vanish completely, or rather felt its sudden absence. It was like a part of her was gone and it made her clutch at the table, her breathing accelerating a little bit. She hadn't realized how much of her attention the projection took or how her powers really affected her until they were gone.
Then they returned and all at once she felt more or less at ease again, a sense of relief washing over her. Of course, immediately after she remembered what had happened mere hours ago and she swallowed hard. "Ugh," she uttered before an idea struck her, eyes lighting up for the first time since she'd seen Sonar unconscious on the street. "Ira, you're a genius!" she began, sounding a bit breathless from excitement. "Guys...we, we can help him with this...or um, maybe something like it," she continued, looking around the room. However, before she started the next bit of her sentence she swallowed hard, building up the courage necessary to say the next bit. "Ira, we can make something that at least lets him live. Something that keeps him sane. I..." she stopped, suddenly choked up. There was such a strong sense of relief that had hit her that the pit of anger and brooding hatred at the unfairness of the world had actually disappeared for the most part. However, with its disappearance came the grief, and while the relief helped with that, the emotion coupled with a bit of joy at the prospect that they could help Sonar caused tears to roll down her cheeks even while she smiled.
They could do something for him. That was really all she needed.
Pursuing the criminal wasn't strenuous, not even vaguely difficult, it was a breeze in fact. Or, it had been until the woman looked back at him and then blasted off to motherfucking infinity and beyond. He grumbled, though the sound came out hollow and resonant, more like an unearthly growl than a human noise of frustration. His pace slowed as she drew further away. He could chase her, but it wasn't worth it. Of course, if he saw her again things would be different. He had her bio-signature now. If he was in his second vessel and she was around, he'd know pretty damned quick.
Turning in the air, his movements graceful, but almost languid, he swam through the air, accelerating again as he headed back towards the congregation of heroes. He might as well introduce himself, make sure he didn't become part of some nasty fearmongering rumors...or at least that the press would have information other than those rumors.
His altitude having lowered as he returned, Outsider swam through the air over a building nearby the other capes before settling down on it, near enough that his hearing could pick out their words, but far enough so as not to startle them unnecessarily--though his massive monstrous form would probably do that anyways--much to his chagrin. So it was that he hovered in the air just above a building adjacent to theirs, ominous only due to his silence, waiting for them to engage him in some way...hopefully not in one involving violence.
I mean that was really all he could do, hope.