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[h1]Heist Night[/h1]

[img]https://i.imgur.com/tTVHMCk.jpg[/img][img]https://i.imgur.com/jzzw4on.jpg[/img][img]https://i.imgur.com/FJt85Te.png[/img]

[h2][color=B0C4DE]Brent[/color] | [color=33ec06]Marcus[/color] | [color=00a99d]Ernest[/color][/h2]
[img]https://i.imgur.com/3R5vYYi.png?2[/img] 
[color=silver]𝕄: 𝕊𝕖𝕡𝕥. 𝟙𝟜, 𝟚𝟘𝟚𝟘   / /   𝕃𝕒 ℙ𝕝𝕒𝕥𝕒, 𝕄𝕒𝕣𝕪𝕝𝕒𝕟𝕕   / /   𝕋𝕠𝕨𝕟   / /  ~~𝟚𝟘𝟛𝟘
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[sub]Collab with [@banjoango] [@Chasers115][/sub][/center]

[hider=A Meeting, An Escape, A Negotiation, An Interrogation]
Marcus was in a difficult situation. Hopefully his little talk with Emma had put her a little more at ease, even if had done the exact opposite for him. Right now, with everything catching up to him, he just wanted to hide. Find a place away from the reminders and just stay there for a while.

Unfortunately, he needed to go check on the rest of the team; his roommates, Lily, maybe even check up on Lawrence and try to stammer out some sort of half-apology to him. It's not like there was anyway to defend himself, and it seemed insulting to just apologize and then leave him there. Perhaps that was an interaction that would have to wait until [i]after[/i] they got back.

If he passed by a store on the way, he'd probably have to stop in and get some food that wasn't motel food; a dish he'd learned to not trust far before the current events. He pondered this as he walked down the hallway, trying to think of the best way to exit without being mobbed.

[color=B0C4DE]"A hospital a few blocks down the road,"[/color] Brent repeated to himself, taking steps two at a time as he descended. It said a lot about just how little he did when he had come out of a warzone feeling relatively energetic. Outside of the faint emptiness of his stomach everything was disgustingly 'normal', and with all this excess energy, the brunette had resolved to burn it away productively, by acting the part of a deliverer of dinners.

Hospital food, after all, was notoriously bad, even when the cooks would have known that they would be serving hangry subnaturals that night.

Turning the corner, Brent blinked, before waving at a familiar face. [color=B0C4DE]"Heyo,"[/color] he said, [color=B0C4DE]"Going out for a stroll?"[/color]

Ernie froze and turned to the voice, the instinctively distrustful expression on his face falling away when he saw who it was. Though he considered Brent a friend, Ernie wasn't really in the mood to talk with anyone right now. He tried anyway, since it was Brent.

[color 00a99d]"Kinda, yeah,"[/color] he nodded, raising the empty canvas bag in his hand, [color 00a99d]"Need to buy some supplies. News guys are gonna be a nightmare to get past though."[/color]

"[color=33ec06]You think so?[/color]" Marcus said, strolling up to the two. He'd seen them as he walked down the hallway, but had only just gotten close enough to discern their identities. Brent, who he hadn't had the opportunity to talk with much, and Ernie, who he was tentatively friends with. 

"[color=33ec06]Don't think there's a back door or something they're not perched by, do you?[/color]"

[color=B0C4DE]"There usually is a fire exit,"[/color] Brent replied, dragging his fingers through his hair, [color=B0C4DE]"And I saw them congregating mainly at the front entrance. Honestly, even if there's a bunch of them just staking out the alleyway...well, I don't think I'd particularly mind?"[/color]

[color=B0C4DE]"Not like we're the most photogenic anyways. With Ernie being a dangerously unstable x-mark who lives on the edge of a homicidal rampage and you being a veteran subnatural who had seen a thousand battles, maybe we can just scare them enough to consider going after someone else."[/color]

Was that a little too much, a little too soon?

[color=B0C4DE]"Unless you guys wanna go on a roofhopping adventure instead."[/color]

Ernie stared at Brent, looking horrified. More than that, he was hurt. his actions following the collector attack were still branded so heavily into his mind. So he didn't say anything. Instead, he shoved past Brent and stalked towards the fire exit.

[color=00a99d]"Roofhopping sounds dumb as fuck,"[/color] he muttered heatedly through grit teeth, [color=00a99d]"If you need me to play the 'angry X' then I'll do it. Whatever."[/color]

Marcus gave Brent a less-than-subtle glare at the 'homicidal rampage' remark. He was prone to sticking his foot in his own mouth more often than not, but even he knew that calling an aberration 'dangerously unstable' wasn't exactly the best way to make friends. And depsite his general unease of his X-Marked companions, he still considered Ernie to be a friend.

"[color=33ec06]Yeah, and I doubt you want to scrape me out of the alleyway after I miss a jump.[/color]" he added, attempting to defuse the situation a little. "[color=33ec06]If we sneak out the back, hopefully we'll be able to move without attracting too much attention.[/color]

"[color=33ec06]Wait. Veteran subnatural?[/color]" he muttered mostly to himself, almost as an afterthought.

Too much, too soon indeed.

Fuck.

Brent let Ernie shove past him, before gritting his teeth. It was still hard for him to figure out how other people would react, especially when he had spent all his time up above, away from the chaos of fighting against clockworks and dealing with subnatural assassins. He had regressed once more, a split second of immaturity exposing how horrible he was.

He could take solace though, in the fact that this time, he recognized it, right? Unlike with Alex?

No, comparing himself to himself from a month or so ago was doubly pathetic. And though Brent mentally thanked Marcus for trying to make light of the situation, he didn't want to just drop that shit.

[color=B0C4DE]"Ernie,"[/color] he said, swallowing the part of him that tired of apologizing, [color=B0C4DE]"Sorry about that. Wa-"[/color]

An excuse? Now? 'Wasn't thinking'?

[color=B0C4DE]"Was my bad. I'll head out first, and if there's any reporters, just slide on by while I chat them up."[/color]

Ernie regarded Brent with a blank glare before turning away with a small but unresentful [color=00a99d]"Okay"[/color]. Not full forgiveness yet, but it was clear that there wasn't going to be a lifelong grudge sprouting from the careless words.

"[color 33ec06]So....bait.[/color]" Marcus said, putting Brent's plan into simpler terms. It certainly meant his life was easier if he didn't have to deal with the cameras and shit, but the concept of using another person as bait didn't sit well with him.

Still, it seemed karmatically appropriate.

"[color 33ec06]I guess that makes you our glorious leader, then.[/color]" Marcus said, giving a slight hand gesture for Brent to lead the way.

[color=B0C4DE]"Just don't get caught by the ones out on the road,"[/color] Brent replied, finding it in himself to smile again. Reaching into his pockets, he pulled out a length of now-useless wishalloy, offering it to Ernie. [color=B0C4DE]"Was thinking about using this as a facemask or whatever, but it's probably more inconspicuous as a makeshift scarf."[/color]

All that needed to be said, really.

Hands pressed against the bar, he let out a deep breath, before pushing the door open as hard as possible, striding out with the self-confidence that he always faked.

Ernie accepted the wishalloy and wrapped it gratefully around his neck. Brent wasn't such an asshole after all, huh?

[color=00a99d]"Thanks, Brent,"[/color] he said with a small, reluctant smile.

The tech mage opened the door to a dingy-looking alley. A bulky man was jostling the camera on his shoulder while a well-dressed woman, most likely the reporter he'd been assigned to, took a long drag from her red-smudged cigarette. Another pair of reporter and cameraman, a group from a separate station probably, was also present, staring vacantly at down the alley. All four jumped as the door swung open, the smoker quickly stubbing her cigarette on the ground and leaping to action as Brent's white streak was caught in the dim light.

[color=f7976a]"Hey! You're one of the USARILN East subnaturals, correct?"[/color] she leaned in, shoving a microphone into Brent's face. The microphone read "WBALTV".

The other reporter didn't take kindly to the sudden snipe and borderline shoulder-checked his rival.

[color=f7976a]"Can you give us any information on the attack on Wisford?"

"Hey, back off, I asked him first!"

"I'm asking the important questions here!"[/color]

The cameramen filmed on passively. It didn't seem that they would be making any move to stop an impending fight.

For a moment, Brent paused at just how voracious these regulars were. Then, he reminded himself of all the news he had seen on TV before, microphones and reporters jostling each other in large crowds in order to get a comment from some celebrity-turned-murderer, and forced a thought to remain in his head.

This was nothing. He was used to it. Why?

Because he was East's strongest.

Squaring up, he shot a quick glance towards Marcus and Ernie, before saying, a perfectly stunning smile on his face, [color=B0C4DE]"Before I talk to any of you specifically...which one of you is the bigger news channel here?"[/color]

The question gave the reporters pause. They hadn't been expecting a subnatural to be so co-operative so they weren't going to let this opportunity slide.

[color=f7976a]"Us, definitely!"[/color] the male reporter urged, [color=f7976a]"We won the Peabody Award, after all!"

"Only because you spout slander that bored housewives eat up,"[/color] the woman hissed.

Ernie and Marcus began to creep out as the anchors continued their squabbling.

[color=B0C4DE]"Eh..."[/color] Brent said, tilting his head to the side, [color=B0C4DE]"I don't exactly want to share the raw and brutal details of the Wisford attack to a news channel that's known for slander...is what she's saying true, sir?"[/color]

What the fuck even was the Peabody Award? Was it even worth Googling after he got out of this alleyway?

[color=f7976a]"Wh-what, no... Hey, you asked who the bigger channel was! That's got nothing to do with it."

"So you'll tell us about Wisford?"[/color] the smoker brightened as her rival got questioned, ignoring his stammering.

Brent's companions were halfway down the road now. One of the cameramen attempted to point out the other two subnaturals but was rudely brushed off in favor of the information Brent was teasing.

[color=B0C4DE]"It has a lot to do with it,"[/color] the arbiter replied, eyes narrowing, smile gone, [color=B0C4DE]"A hell lot of shit went down in Wisford, and the last thing I want to do is see the general public brush off the uncomfortable reality of the situation due to the ill repute of the channel."[/color]

A deep breath. A faked mood swing, before he was all smiles again.

Turning his attention to the bright-eyed lady, Brent said, [color=B0C4DE]"You're WBALTV, right? What's that supposed to stand for?"[/color]

The two reporters moved back slightly at the disconcerting mood shift. Though the woman was eager to get her hands on this scoop, she knew better than to provoke a subnatural, especially a potential nutjob that seemed to shift moods as quickly as this one. Best to just humor the boy and answer his strange question.

[color=f7976a]"Um, the W is for Woodberry, where the network's transmission tower and station is. BAL is for Baltimore, our designated area. And the TV is for television, of course. Is this important? Can you tell us what you know now?"[/color]

The two boys were almost completely out of the alley now. The out-of-nowhere tangent had bought a decent amount of time.

[color=B0C4DE]"Woodberry Baltimore Television,"[/color] Brent muttered, repeating those pointless words as if it had some sort of deep meaning.

Then, he let out a sigh. Let's start with a cold open.

[color=B0C4DE]"...we codenamed it Propagator. A monster that created more, without requiring the consumption of resources."[/color] A pause, a furrowing of the brow. Remembrance of a painful memory. [color=B0C4DE]"You heard of the monster attack on Crimen Culpae, right? Perhaps did a report on that?"[/color]

[color=f7976a]"Y-yes, of course!"[/color] the reporter piped, getting more and more excited as Brent spoke, [color=f7976a]"Are you going to tell us about that too?"[/color]

A distant metallic thump suddenly sounded from around the corner, down the alley and out of sight from the reporting group. Ernie's attempt at some sort of "OK, go" signal.

Another dramatic pause. Pursed lips.

[color=B0C4DE]"They're related."[/color]

His arm flared up, silver circuits racing down from his shoulder to his fingertips. Tensing suddenly, Brent brought two of those fingers up to his temple, before a small puff of light burst.

[color=B0C4DE]"This is Gearhead."[/color] ... [color=B0C4DE]"What? She's awake?"[/color] ... [color=B0C4DE]"The cuffs are functioning, right?"[/color] ... [color=B0C4DE]"Got it, I'm heading over now."[/color]

The silver circuitry faded, before he turned to the woman apologetically. [color=B0C4DE]"Sorry,"[/color] Brent said, [color=B0C4DE]"Got called in by Command. Got a business card or something?"[/color]

Both news crews had jumped back at the sudden light show. The woman protested while the cameramen filmed intently.

[color=f7976a]"What? You can't be leaving, we haven't even set up for an interview yet!"[/color]

The male reporter's hands rushed to his suit's pockets, patting frantically.

[color=B0C4DE]"There's a reason why we're not in USARILN right now."[/color] Brent said flatly, before brazenly walking through them, the very picture of a man on a mission. The reporters didn't let him go so easily, speedwalking with him as he moved. Two business cards were held out towards him.

[color=f7976a]"No, you can't leave now! Five minutes, tops. It doesn't have to be a proper interview, just give us one more official statement!"[/color]

...

Holy shit, they were annoying.

Brent looked at the cards, then back at them, and said, very slowly, enunciating each word to ensure that every syllable was pronounced perfectly, [color=B0C4DE]"I [i]can't[/i]?"[/color]

His unnatural, amethyst eyes smouldered. This farce has gone on for long enough.

[color=B0C4DE]"I was going to offer an exclusive over the phone, but I suppose courtesy is dead now,"[/color] he spat, before turning around. [color=B0C4DE]"Have fun trying to pry anything out of the others."[/color]

He burst into a shit-eating grin the moment his face turned away from the two, before Brent put eight years of leg day into good use, sprinting like an athlete off into the distance, adopting the perfect form that he learned from the greatest teacher of all: Google. The reporters tried to follow but were easily outrun, their protests still audible from behind.

[color=00a99d]"Dude, what did you do?"[/color] Ernie stifled a laugh as he and Marcus fell in step with Brent's fast pace. They'd have to keep running for a while if they wanted to leave those pests behind.

[color=B0C4DE]"Told them they were both worse than Fox News,"[/color] Brent said, failing to maintain a straight face as the trio dashed on.

"[color 33ec06]Well that's a little bit harsh, dont'cha think?[/color]" Marcus said, laughing in between breaths as they took off. For a guy who'd been given a mobility power, he wasn't in the greatest of shape - running away from cameras was probably going to be enough cardio to last him a week.

The green and orange decal of the local 7-Eleven came into view after a few blocks. Fluorescent light spilled outwards as the boys entered the automatic doors, reflecting off the linoleum floor and sufficiently displaying all the products available. The store was well-heated too.

However, the warmth didn't seem to reach the store-owner, a middle-aged bordering on elderly woman with a stout frame. She scowled as the subnaturals walked in, though she didn't dare step out of her booth.

[color=f7976a]"I don't want trouble here,"[/color] her glare moving over all three of them but lingering on the wrapping around Ernie's throat, [color=f7976a]"Get out of my store."[/color]

Marcus reeled back slightly, as if the words had physically hit him. He turned around, a puzzled expression on his face, trying to see if perhaps the lady had been mistaken, and was talking to [i]another[/i] group of people. However, it appeared that they were indeed the target of the snippy geriatric, and it didn't take him many guesses to figure out why.

"[color 33ec06]Well that's a little bit rude.[/color] Marcus scoffed, immediately crossing his arms in irritation. "[color 33ec06]Whatever happened to 'the customer is always right'?[/color]"

Ernie regarded the store-owner with a deadly glint in his eye, his resentful glare remaining glued on her face as he removed the wishalloy to reveal his X mark. Not quite a threat, but the implication was clear. The woman bristled as he spoke.

[color=00a99d]"We're not moving,"[/color] he said coldly, [color=00a99d]"Just let us get what we need and we'll be out of your hair."[/color]

As Marcus reeled and Ernie glared, Brent went on with his own business, quickly and efficiently grabbing plastic-packaged salads and sandwiches. For all the vitriol in the elderly woman's tone, he didn't appear to be effected at all. After a small mound was gathered, Brent stood up first in line once more, pulling out his ID.

[color=B0C4DE]"Good evening,"[/color] he said, a smile on his face, [color=B0C4DE]"I'd also like to grab ten chicken thighs, four corn dogs, and four kebabs. Oh, and this is debit."[/color]

The arbiter didn't want an argument, nor a discussion. He didn't even bother to greet that woman by name. His amethyst eyes flickered towards his buds, before redirecting them onto the woman. There was a raised platform that she stood on, but even then, he was taller than her.

Brent's straightforwardness was met with a scoff. She looked to Marcus to answer his question. [color=f7976a]"You're not customers. We don't cater to subs here, 'specially that X one. And I got the right to refuse service. Beat it."[/color]

Marcus stood for a moment, as if trying to decide whether arguing with the old lady would be in any way beneficial. It took a [i]long[/i] moment of deliberation with himself before he decided that it was at least worth getting the stuff that he'd come in here to get. It was just a few things, even if he had to throw the cash at the woman on his way out the door, he'd take it.

Still he waited to see how the others would react to the situation. If Brent had an answer for everything like it seemed he did, maybe they'd be able to resolve the whole problem.

[color=B0C4DE]"Okay,"[/color] Brent said, eyes sliding around the store in search of a sign. Was there a sign? No there wasn't, she was just being a bitch. [color=B0C4DE]"You can bill this to USARILN East then. Our Director, her secretary, and the Commander of the security force there are all regulars. I'm sure they'd love to deal with this too!"[/color]

He gestured with the goods that he already had. [color=B0C4DE]"Either way, we'll be getting what we need and leaving with it. It's up to you whether we pay now or later."[/color]

There was a small part of him that wanted to just smash open the glass display case to all those trays of low-quality food and grab what he wanted...but Brent suppressed that urge. He wasn't an x mark. There shouldn't be any reason to want to rob the store.

But was there any reason for this old hag to be so stubborn?

The cashier's eyes narrowed at Brent. [color=f7976a]"Are you threatening me? That's it, I warned you. I'm calling the police."[/color]

Ernie strode up to the counter beside the upgrade mage, still glaring. 

[color=00a99d]"That wasn't a threat. But you're gonna start hearing some if you don't get that hand away from that button under the counter,"[/color] he growled lowly and summoning his rope but keeping it out of sight of the cameras he knew the locations of. This wasn't his first convenience store crackdown. The golden glow that coated his body made his X-mark look even darker in comparison. The woman gasped and shuffled back, her back pressed firmly against the wall.

"[color 33ec06]Woah, woah, woah.[/color]" Marcus said, putting his hands up defensively, but not stepping between Ernie and the woman. "[color 33ec06]We're just here to enjoy the fine art of capitalism. We're [i]not[/i] going to hurt anybody.[/color]" he said, looking between the woman and Ernie.

This was quickly spiraling, and he certainly didn't want to be hunted by the cops for however long it was that they were stuck here. Not that he thought USARLIN would let anything happen to their precious students, but it was an added inconvenience that just didn't need to happen.

[color=B0C4DE]"It was a compromise,"[/color] Brent added, his genuine, reflexive smile emerging once more. [color=B0C4DE]"I understand where you're coming from, cause I was a regular just a month or so ago, but Martha, both regulars and subnaturals need to eat."[/color]

[color=B0C4DE]"We're willing to pay and we put our own lives at risk to protect yours,"[/color] the arbiter continued, shrugging. [color=B0C4DE]"Really, if you'd just take our money, we'll be out in a jiffy."[/color]

[color=B0C4DE]"It seriously doesn't have to be this hard."[/color]

Ernie looked curiously between his two companions. Damn, they were handling this a lot better than he did. He seriously needed to reevaluate his anger around Regulars.

Martha grimaced, but nodded reluctantly at the two arbiter's words. Her eyes kept flickering towards Ernie however.

[color=f7976a]"Make it quick. I don't want to see any of you here again after this."[/color]

"[color 33ec06]See? Isn't that way easier?[/color]" Marcus said, shrugging his shoulders and wandering off into one of the aisles in search of a few select items. 

If he was going to go see his two roommates in the hospital, then peace offerings probably wouldn't be frowned upon. If he remembered his time in hospitals, then it was awfully drab and dreary, and he very much doubted any of the staff were being any more accomodating than this lady.

His arms loaded with a few things, including a bag of jerky for Callan and some snacks for himself and Emma, althought he was disappointed to see that the store didn't have any reading material for Siena, not even a grocery store tabloid or anything. Still, despite the lack of literature, he walked up behind Brent, patiently waiting his turn.

Brent was fairly certain that Martha, using tongs to grab chunks of chicken, was purposefully aiming for the smaller ones, or the overcooked ones, or basically all the ones that didn't look too good to eat. Would he have done the same if he was in her position?

...No, of course he wouldn't. What a pissy bitch. Hopefully Dreamcatcher airdrops some of its minions onto this town and does enough destruction that when the subnaturals come in to save the day, Martha would start treating them like the second coming of Jesus instead.

Wait, no, Jesus was Benediction.

Nevertheless, food was obtained and Brent thanked her as she tossed the receipt at him. Stepping out of the way, he walked out of the 7-11, opting to wait for his friends outside.

Ernie took little time to grab his own items. Shampoo, bodywash, and the like. No hair clippers though, much to his chagrin. He'd have to find another store for that. He hesitated as he crossed the snack section, eyeing the jerky with a frown. The blue phone was still weighing in his pocket and he contemplated the pros and cons of visiting Cal after what he had found out earlier. Maybe he'd be able to find a compromise.

Noticing the large amount of assorted goods Marcus was lining up to buy, Ernie called out. [color=00a99d]"Hey Marc, are you visiting the hospital after this?"[/color]

"[color 33ec06]That's the plan! If I can get out of here without being in handcuffs, that is![/color]" Marcus called back, making no effort to hide the jab at the all-too-difficult saleswoman. The woman bristled again but bit back a retort as she scanned the items with a practiced efficiency. Marcus' purchase was finished in no time.

[color=00a99d]"Oh, cool,"[/color] Ernie handed his own things to Martha and added some sweets and phone chargers to the pile. The cashier moved even faster than she had with Marcus, [color=00a99d]"Could you do me a solid, then?"[/color]

Ernie prepared a separate plastic bag, placing a phone charger and a bag of jerky in it. The blue, starry phone, wrapped with Cal's earphones was pulled from his pants pocket and tossed in last.

[color=00a99d]"I won't be able to visit Cal tonight. Can you give this to her for me?"[/color]

Marcus paused for a moment, taking his bag and looking to Ernie. "[color 33ec06]Is that her phone? How'd you manage to get your mitts on that?[/color]" Marcus said, taking a look at the items inside the bag, like how a small child would peek in their candy bag on Halloween.

It wasn't quite what he'd expected; he didn't take Callan as a 'fancy patterns across everything' kind of person, but how much did he know anyway? Not like he was an expert on phone design.

[color=00a99d]"Mitts?"[/color] Ernie raised an eyebrow. The weather was getting pretty cold recently, maybe he should buy himself a pair too. He blinked, and tried not to hesitate too much when he replied. It wasn't how he got the phone that was the problem anyway, it was what he'd seen on it, [color=00a99d]"She left it on the APC on the way here. Didn't really have a chance to get it back, being on the emergency truck and all, so I thought I'd keep it for a bit and give it back to her later."[/color]

"[color 33ec06]Yeah, 'mitts'. It's slang for....never mind.[/color]" Marcus said, shaking away the meaningless diversion. The explanation was reasonable enough, and he mentally kicked himself for immediately assuming Ernie had done something shifty.

"[color 33ec06]I suppose I can play delivery boy for you![/color]" Marcus said, with an over exaggerated eye roll and accompanying sigh. Grinning lightly, he snagged the bag from Ernie, gripping it along side his own.

[color=00a99d]"Heh. Thanks, buddy."[/color]

They left the store together, with Ernie ignoring the muttered [color=f7976a]"Good riddance"[/color] from the cashier. It wasn't worth the trouble, not while he was in front of two friends. As they rejoined Brent outside, the Aberration scratched his head sheepishly, addressing them both.

[color=00a99d]"Sorry for what happened in there. Guess I need to brush up on my Bad Cop routine."[/color]

He hadn't lost control in there. It wasn't a complete act either, but he didn't need them to know that. It worked, hadn't it?

[color=B0C4DE]"You two heading back now?"[/color] Brent asked as the duo left, spotting Martha's evil eye while their backs were turned. No need to start any shit though, only cross the 7-11 off potential places to grab food from.

[color=B0C4DE]"And no worries, the bad cop good cop only really works if there's only two cops."[/color] A pause. [color=B0C4DE]"Good thing you didn't get tazed though. Be super awkward for our routine if you start convulsing like a frog."[/color]

"[color 33ec06]What? You calling me a third wheel?[/color]" Marcus said with poorly feigned anger. He quickly shifted gears though, answering Brent's question: "[color 33ec06]Nah, I'm heading to the hospital. I want to check in on everybody and see how they're doing now that we've gotten a chance to relax.[/color]"

Ernie laughed heartily. Ah, he missed this. It was nice to have a hangout like this after such a long day.

[color=00a99d]"Gosh, I didn't even know frogs did that. I think I'm gonna do some more shopping though. Still need some stuff. Hopefully the other places'll be nicer than this one. Are we parting ways here, then?"[/color]

[color=B0C4DE]"Yeah, sounds like it,"[/color] Brent said, adjusting his grip on the bags,  [color=B0C4DE]"Guess I'll be heading off to the hospital with you then, Marcus. Better not get shanked by some regular on the streets, Ernie!"[/color]

"[color 33ec06]I guess so![/color]" Marcus added, giving Ernie a small salute. "[color 33ec06]If you do get shanked by regulars, make sure you get a few hits in for us little guys when you're beating the shit out of them![/color]"

[color=00a99d]"Geez, you guys are the worst. But I'll do my best!"[/color]

Ernie wasn't too sure about Marcus' comment about 'beating the shit out of them' but he laughed along anyway. Hopefully he didn't mean anything too bad by it.

The Aberration waved and took his leave, jogging towards a CVS down the street.

"[color 33ec06]I'd say that went fairly well![/color]" Marcus said, watching Ernie run off for a moment and turning quickly to face Brent. "[color 33ec06]Got a bunch of snacks, made some paparazzi angry, and only pissed off one grouchy old hag. I'd call that a win for team...us.[/color]"

[color=B0C4DE]"Tsk tsk,"[/color] Brent wagged his finger, [color=B0C4DE]"That's much too unambitious for a victory. Imagine if we got a cartload of snacks, convinced all the paparazzi to leave everyone alone, and turned the grouchy old hag into a subnatural rights activist. Now that'd be an A+ victory for Team Sesame Street!"[/color]

"[color 33ec06]Listen, we're a rag tag group of- Team Sesame Street?[/color]" Marcus said, his own thought process interrupting his sentance. He shook his head once, getting back on track. "[color 33ec06]A rag tag group of subnaturals, not miracle workers. I'm not sure what you've just described is at all [i]feasible[/i], if not completely [i]impossible[/i].[/color]" he said, chuckling slightly.

[color=B0C4DE]"Just gotta try harder,"[/color] Brent sang, [color=B0C4DE]"If you got a goal, might as well make that goal impossible and see how far up the ladder you go!"[/color]

He thought for a moment then, tilting his head to the side.

[color=B0C4DE]"But yeah...I guess I did shoot myself in the foot there by playing with those reporters that much."[/color]

"[color 33ec06]Oh yeah, that's definitely a segment I'm gonna have to record. How far did they follow us anyway? I wasn't paying attention: too busy trying not to trip over myself and end up sacrificed to the cameras.[/color]"

[color=B0C4DE]"Wasn't like I was running backwards to taunt them either,"[/color] Brent replied, [color=B0C4DE]"But man, if they actually do show this segment on TV...ugh, may have gone a bit too far. Hopefully Kardos doesn't roast me for the shit I spewed."[/color]

"[color 33ec06]Please. You think anybody actually cares what we do or say around here?[/color]" Marcus scoffed, giving Brent a side glance. "[color 33ec06]They're probably too busy trying to make sure all the super-powered kids don't blow up the school or something.[/color]"

He gave a nonchalant shrug, following with: "[color 33ec06]Hell, if they really cared, they've probably got ways to take it off air. You know how powerful some of these government places are.[/color]"

[color=B0C4DE]"True true,"[/color] Brent nodded. [color=B0C4DE]"Martial law just never ended after the Slumber, eh?"[/color]

This was getting unpleasant.

[color=B0C4DE]"But that's enough about that. Tell me, Marcus my boi, how's the Emma life going for you? Was it you who struck first? Or her?"[/color]

Marcus nodded in silence with Brent, thinking about the whole situation. He'd only ever heard it referred to as 'The Slumber' a few times in his life. With everything going to shit like it had, most of the people he was around just referred to it as 'The Day Everything went to Hell'. He shuttered slightly - there had been a chill that day that he just couldn't describe, and thinking about it now still gave him goosebumps.

He looked up to the sky, hoping to catch a glimpse of the 'veil' DC had supposedly made, but no such luck tonight.

The sudden change in conversation caught him by surprise, but as quickly as the topic came up, Marcus's tone became coy just as quickly. "[color 33ec06]Now now, don't you know it's rude to kiss and tell?[/color]"

[color=B0C4DE]"Wow, first base so soon?"[/color] Brent said, laughing, [color=B0C4DE]"Gotta go fast, eh?"[/color]

Marcus cocked one eyebrow, staring at Brent for a long second. A second that he ended by grinning and sassily flipping his non-existant flowing locks, grinning coyly. "[color 33ec06]Like I said; it's rude.[/color]"

[color=B0C4DE]"My bad my bad, but it's stuff like this that really matters between us kids, eh?"[/color] Brent replied, hanging his bags by his wrists as he raised his hands in surrender. [color=B0C4DE]"Still though, if you won't share dem spicy deets, mind passing on some of your nuggets of romancing wisdom?"[/color]

Would he believe it? Nah, even if he didn't, it didn't matter.

[color=B0C4DE]"Gotta help a friend out and all, Mr. Love Master!"[/color]

"[color 33ec06]Man, I don't even know [i]what[/i] I did. I couldn't pass on any 'nuggets of romancing wisdom' if I wanted to. Be yourself, yadda yadda puke, I guess?[/color]" he said, shrugging. It was honest; there was no reason one of his first interactions with Emma should have ended in a date, but it did.

Although, 'Have your roommate punch a hole in someone else' would probably be considered bad advice.

[color=B0C4DE]"Ew,"[/color] Brent gagged in mock disgust, [color=B0C4DE]"Didn't realize you lived in a bad romance film, Marcus. Don't have any secret techniques like throwing love cards or making heart-shaped balloons?"[/color]

"[color 33ec06]Do I look like a Hallmark Movie character, man?[/color]" Marcus said, his tone one of fake disgust. There was a moment of silence before Marcus continued. "[color 33ec06]The correct answer here is 'no'. In case you were wondering. I don't have any super special 'romance moves' for you to steal.[/color]"

[color=B0C4DE]"Well, you do have the whole lean and blond thing going on,"[/color] Brent replied, grinning,[color=B0C4DE] "So yes, wouldn't be surprised if you showed up on the covers of those Walmart romance novels." 

"Figured though. Guess the two of you just clicked, eh?"[/color]

"[color 33ec06]I guess! I made a joke, and she made the mistake of showing an interest in me, or at least my blooming charisma. Now we're here, and she has nobody to blame but herself![/color]" Marcus said with another chuckle.

[color=B0C4DE]"A most nefarious scheme, befitting of such a dashing rogue,"[/color] Brent said, going full thespian with his delivery.

"[color 33ec06]Truly it is, my good sire![/color]" Marcus said, rebutting with his own thespian act. "[color 33ec06]And I did not even mean to scheme, but I've accidentally stolen the affection of a fair maiden. Truly my cunning knows no bounds, if it plots without my knowlege![/color]"

The dim lights of the hospital cast across the pavement as the two subnaturals approached, Marcus looking up to the few windows to see if he could trace any activity. "[color 33ec06]You just visiting at random, or do you have a list of people you're here to see?[/color]"

[color=B0C4DE]"Plan on visiting everyone, so my course shall be dictated by the winds of fate,"[/color] Brent replied, still coasting off the drama, [color=B0C4DE]"You got a hitlist, ye blackhearted scoundrel?"[/color]

"[color 33ec06]Gotta hit the roommates first, make sure they're adjusting well to the whole thing. Then probably check up on Lily, and Lawrence if he'll talk to me...[/color]" Marcus's tone was very businesslike as he counted the people on fingers as he said their names, and for a moment it almost seemed like he was reiterating the list for himself, but he turned back to Brent by the end of it.

"[color 33ec06]So yeah, I've got a bit of a hitlist![/color]"

[color=B0C4DE]"I'll leave you to your assassinations then. See ya, dude."[/color]

"[color 33ec06]You as well, man![/color] Marcus said, giving Brent a little wave. As they parted ways, he felt a little bit bad; the guy he'd been referring to as 'Dude McSpine Grab' for the last few weeks actually didn't seem like a bad guy.

Plus, if what Emma had mentioned was true, he was probably the only reason that [i]everyone[/i] hadn't been killed. Something Marcus probably should have thanked him for, but by the time he turned around to say something, he'd decided against. It was too soon. He wasn't ready to talk about it, even in thanks to another teammate. 

Maybe later, then.
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