[h2]Alessa Heather: Trainyard[/h2]
It sounded like Ira had taken the opportunity to activate her device at last. The null field was, at least, functioning as intended: she could feel her powers leaving her as she passed near Epsilon, and mildly threatening as that was, she knew it also meant any villains in range were equally depowered.

If any were in range, that was. Gunfire and crashing noises rang out from within the warehouse, followed by Overlook’s report that his drone was coming under attack, albeit without any damage dealt so far. Not to mention, whoever was talking in there, a man with a British accent, was apparently coming off as suspicious... shit, could that be Chatterbox? As she recalled from Lovecraft’s interrogation, his power had something to do with his “magic voice”, meaning the more he talked, the more effect it’d have on them. Something for Epsilon’s field to get in range of as soon as possible, then. There could be no funny business with any parahuman abilities if they were inactive, after all.

But something in the guy’s voice... she wanted to think he had a point. It wouldn’t be particularly heroic of them to just allow the crates to be damaged beyond repair, after all... maybe letting a few people go wouldn’t be so...

She was snapped out of her reverie by the sound of requests for their next move. Lillian first, followed shortly by an apparent breakdown of her will to act; and then Margrave, who seemed to be alright, but...

But. But but but.

He’d just suggested they should give up being heroes. And he was making Lillian feel bad in the process. Perhaps with a power of his?

How dare he.

‘Tulpa, keep them busy as long as possible, then take out the drivers once everyone else has engaged with the villains,’ Messiah began, her voice authoritative, commanding even, as she spoke. ‘Tiger Lily, Skeetz, head round the back, cut off that escape route as quickly as possible. Everyone else, move in and spread out. We’re taking these bastards down, now.’

And with that, she grabbed the nearest door and flung it open, gesturing for Margrave, Epsilon, and the soldiers associated with each of them respectively to do as told, each scouring the warehouse from appropriate angles to ensure they would see the interlopers even if they hid elsewhere. She was going to capture at least one of these people, even if it killed her.

[hr]
[h2]Raymond Haywood: Trainyard[/h2]
And that, it seemed, was that for the box. A fast job. But not as clean as he’d wanted, not by a long shot; the drone hovering in had demanded that they stand down, and gunfire from Chatterbox was ineffective. What would, on the other hand, be especially effective would be his chatter, if it kept working as intended. If the power worked the way he thought it did, the boy’s big mouth might even be their most valuable asset over time, moreso even than Raymond’s own ability.

And on the other hand, that drone was not proving easy to take down. It could dodge gunfire, and like as not it’d be able to dodge the crate Jason had just hurled at it too... did that, perhaps, have anything to do with the sudden sense of attachment he felt toward the rest of his team?

...HIS team? What the...

Luckily, a few steps further toward the back fixed the matter, giving him a moment too to spy a shadow moving out of the path of the skylight... was somebody up there, then? A problem to resolve in a moment. Right now, he had a job to do - apparently, the plastic drone was hard to hit? Funny story, that was Headhunter’s specialty. He flicked the gun over to its FN P90 setting, and scoped in.

Well, tried to scope in. For some reason, he wasn’t getting a read, despite the drone clearly being in range to hit. Thinker interference? Possibly. He was originally planning to take out the camera first, followed by each propeller in turn, but if that wasn’t going to work out, he might as well just take his shots - aiming at the drone, he let off a spray of five rounds, an attempt to shatter the casing, as well as the more important internals keeping it powered and viable.

And once the drone was down, finishing it off would be a simple matter of smashing it with the butt of his gun a few times. No need to waste any additional bullets on a plastic toy, after all. On the other hand, it did sound like Chatterbox’s gibberish was having rather the opposite effect of what was intended, going by the somewhat distant sound of orders being spouted in the tone of a young-ish girl.

Followed by the opening of the front-side warehouse doors. Shit.

‘Heartless, there’s somebody upstairs. Take them out, and get to us when you’re done. Everyone else, we’re taking the back way out of here,’ he ordered with volume a little way above his usual quietude, gesturing for everyone else to follow him as he began to jog back the way he came in the first place, weapon primed to deal with any soldiers or capes who might show up. Not that that’d happen, but if it did, he’d be ready for it.