[center][h2][color=ec008c]Epsilon:[/color]
[color=gray]The Misery of Industry[/color][/h2]
[@BCTheEntity][@Eklispe][@Lugubrious][@Old Amsterdam][@ProPro][@yoshua171][/center]
There was a certain amount of dissonance, that now even Chatterbox's power couldn't overcome. Thinking over sentences again, they were worded specifically, but they sometimes were contradicted by knowledge already gained. Chatterbox made the claim his team was prestigious, but at the same time Epsilon, one of the biggest cape nerds present, didn't know any of them off hand. His power would push back, covering odd phrasings like that just enough to still affect her, but still. It was a strange mix of emotions for Epsilon, and she was tempted to report it. 

She suddenly leaped out of cover again, sprinting to help intercept the villains who had moved further into the building, her gun almost slipping out of her hands at one point. The soldier followed her dutifully, his automatic rifle at the ready, armed with nonlethal rounds. Epsilon glanced back, meeting his eyes again with a quick timid glance. Refocusing, she narrowly avoided running into a forklift. Her face flushed under her mask, as she continued in the flanking direction.

[center][h2][color=#20B2AA]Zach Kozel:[/color]
A warehouse[/h2]
[@Gardevoiran][@Old Amsterdam][@Spiffy][@t2wave][@Xandrya][/center]
The victim Zach had been assaulting had gone limp, and he looked around. The numbers had dwindled. He heard yelling overhead, and couldn't quite care enough to look up. He tucked away his baton onto his belt, before picking up a gun the man had dropped. It was a glock variant, loaded with actual rounds. They intended to kill or maim it seemed. He raised the gun, firing into the air above three times before it clicked with dissatisfaction matching his own. The catharsis was interrupted by a lack of bullets. 

[color=#00b200][b]”It's over. You lost."[/b][/color] He said in the moments of silence following. Another gunshot sounded, and pinged off his shield, before creating a cloud of dust beneath him. Another barrage of gunshots were fired at [i]not Zach[/i]. He glanced in the direction some of the guns were pointed to see a quite intimidating figure. Pristine, an angelic figure in the most literal sense. Yellow hair floated around her, an unseen wind supporting strands just enough to make her seem all the more holy. [i]Next time I should listen to the mission briefing. Didn't expect to fight literal Angels.[/i]

[center][h2][color=00ff8b]Hermes:[/color]
Laying the Groundwork[/h2]
[@Eklispe][@Old Amsterdam][/center]
He readied his elbow, throwing it backwards with some force before teleporting up onto the catwalk. He reappeared, and a moment later his elbow had broken a Community member's nose. Hermes reached out to grab the man's shirt, and teleported him down to the ground floor. He let him collapse onto the hard floor, the still conscious man trying to stifle the heavy blood flow as he got used to his new surroundings. Hermes pulled back the hammer on his empty revolver, standing straight up and pointing it at the goon. [color=ed145b][b]"Lets keep it nice and quiet. I don't want to give you a concussion."[/b][/color] The man opened his mouth to speak, and Hermes by tightening his grip on his gun. Instantly the goon raised his hands, letting blood splash over his clothes and drip down his chin. His lips quivered, detaching more droplets of blood from his bruised lip. [color=ed145b][b]"We don't need this anymore, so lets just talk."[/b][/color] The mover said, tucking the gun away in his holster. In response the criminal yelled out, and Jaunted kicked out. The second his foot touched the man, he teleported them to the nearest police station. 

A long breath escaped his lips as they arrived, the screaming continuing throughout the void he was sure. He threw his handcuffs attached to his belt to the nearest officer, motioning towards the very silly man. Focusing on the previous location, he teleported back to the warehouse. He arrived amidst Protean and Inkscape, the two heroes treating him the same way they always did. A caution surrounded the orders they gave him, always something they could double check later. It would be so much simpler if he could just do 99% of the work. [color=ed145b][b]"He didn't cooperate. Next one coming up."[/b][/color] He eyed the man on the cat walk far above, gauging the speed at which he was walking. Raising his foot, he kicked out at about chest level, midway through tripping the little trigger in his mind. He appeared out of thin air, a couple feet off the ground as his foot connected with the man's face. He reached out to keep his balance with the handrails, before moving forward to grab the man's leg.

They appeared at the top of a twelve story building, the man struggling backwards as the world reformed around him. [color=ed145b][b]"Now for fucks sake, just talk-"[/b][/color] The man wasted no time screaming out. [i]How stupid are these fucking-GAH[/i] He grabbed the man's leg, and teleported them to the police station again, right next to the man he'd already teleported here. [color=ed145b][b]"Another."[/b][/color] He said, teleporting away almost instantly.

The hero appeared again, his body language screaming of agitation. [color=ed145b][b]"Why do the gangs hire such dumb pricks?"[/b][/color] He mumbled, looking between the two heroes. His costume choice hadn't been much of that. He wore black, tight clothing over various bits of body armor. A PRT communicator was inside his right ear, barely visible underneath the thick helmet he wore. It covered the back of his head better than the front, covering only his eyes with a dark blue visor. A thick belt sat on his waist, tightly pressing against his skin, in the places it didn't dig in. A holster sat there, with an empty revolver present more for intimidation than anything else. Two flash grenades hung on the left side, along with a small medical pouch filling out the back.

[color=ed145b][b]"Wait-yeah, they also hired me at one point."[/b][/color] He admitted, a long breath escaping his lips, holding back a laugh.