[center][img]https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/292173065305980928/364248146114772993/coollogo_com-10438470.png[/img] [sub]Banner credit to Nitemare Shape. Thanks Boss![/sub] [hr] [h3]11:15 am Lost Haven[/h3][/center] Darya sat on a bench in the center of a small square somewhere in the northern area of Lost Haven, elbows on her knees and chin in her hands. If it weren't for the fact that she was in her full costume, with added bits of body armour lent from the local police armoury, she would have looked like any bored or dejected teen. As it was, she struck on odd sight, and no one was willing to come within fifteen feet of her. She guessed that only a little part of that was due to her unusual appearance, and quite a bit more was from the attention of certain groups it would undoubtedly draw were she to stay here long enough. Which, unfortunately, was the whole plan. She sighed, glancing up through the ballistic lenses that covered her eyes at the roof corner where she knew Dragon was. As it turned out, he was some sort of ranged combatant with fire powers, and was providing a third of her cover from up high. Two snipers were behind her, sweeping the sparse crowd for threats while they waited for their targets to take the bait. Naia and Broadway were also here, at the edges of the square in shadowed alleys, waiting for a chance to strike. Two armoured SWAT vans were also lying in wait, with Holliday on hand for emergency backup and medical aid, along with ten FBI and SWAT volunteers. More of those were hanging out in shops or benches around the square. Even with all of the backup, Darya felt alone and exposed, and apparently it showed somehow in her posture, because the little earbud crackled and Rollins' expressive voice came over the comms. "You looks bored, Tiamat. Wanna hear a joke?" Another voice cut in, Faulkner, the team lead in LH. "Can it Rollins. She'll be fine." Darya was not entirely certain she liked Faulkner. His brusque attitude was fitting for a leader, but he had a dampening effect on morale. Several of the others tred to make small talk with him only to find out later that they had received unofficial reprimands, and the whole unit was starting to sour after only a few days. That wasn't helped by their lack of any sort of success in either side of their operation in the city. Broadway and her had had no luck gaining the attention of even minor local metas, excpeting a pair who had backed out and ran as soon as they heard what the mission was. And no surveillance on likely locations had turned up a single Hound or any sort of evidence of their activities. Thus, today found Darya sitting outside in the hot summer sun, on a very uncomfortable wood and iron bench that had certainly seen better days, waiting to be attacked. A pigeon landed near her and made noises at her, fixing one beady eye to her left side, where next to her a small paper bag sat. In this was her "lunch": a 9mm handgun and two compact flashbang grenades, to use in case they had some way of thwarting her powers. The bird obviously thought she had a real lunch, and burbled at her again. Darya's boredom got the best of her, and she leaned back, stretching her arms out lazily to rest along the iron bak of her seat. Several people twitched nervously around her, but otherwise no one noticed. Which changed rather quickly when, from the fountain behind her, the centerpiece of the square, a jet of water shot and splattered the ground directly next to the pigeon. The bird took off making angry cooing noises at her, and she stuck her tongue out at it before realising the cloth of her mask blocked it. The bitter taste of dry fabric clung to her mouth and she felt reprimanded in full by karma for her actions. Apparently others had taken notice. She heard several people on the radio chuckle, and Faulkner sigh, but that was not what caught her attention. Two men, on the edge of the square, were now staring directly at her. She hadn't noticed them before, but they were rather well built, and in very utilitarian clothes. One pulled out a phone and began talking into it, not removing his eyes from where Darya sat. [color=aquamarine]"Roof team, Dragon. I think they've noticed,"[/color] she said quietly. A few seconds later, one of the snipers reported them to Faulkner, and suddenly the air was tense. The two men stood up as the phone conversation was finished, and then they [i]very[/i] purposefully made their way out of the square and onto the surface streets nearby. "Look alive, people," Faulkner said. His voice was steady. "Looks like we've finally got a bite." Broadway cut in. "They actually fell for this? She's been sitting out there for an hour and a half. It's not like we go meet for lunch in full costume." "I don't know, but they [i]definitely[/i] are up to something. Stay sharp people." Having successfully stired a hornet's nest, Darya decided to keep at it, and began to play with the fountain. She contented herself with drawing the water out into long, lazy circles, hovering a few inches over the pavement. She divided them, sending little serpents of water to snap playfully at the heels of civilians passing through the square. This had the added benefit of lowering chances of civilian casualties. No one wanted to be near crazy powers right now. Within a few minutes, most of the square was empty. And fifteen minutes after that, they got their first sign of incoming action. Several black cars and two large vans pulled up across the street from the square. Darya stood, and began gathering water into puddles and pools around her, as well as causing the fountain to swell with far more than it could hold, forming a towering structure behind her. As per the script, she called out a challenge to the vans, daring the terrorists and cowards to come get her. She was not ready for the van's side doors to slide open, revealing a machingun mounted in each one. She didn't listen to the shouts over the radio, her nerves had already reduced her hearing to nothing but her pulse pounding in her head and the sudden bleching staccato of the guns as they fired. The water slammed down all around her, a swirling wall filled with now half-frozen slurry, knocking the heavy bullets off course enough for her to avoid the worst as she launched herself to the opposite side of the fountain. After a few seconds, the water relaxed, the guns silenced, and a new voice called across the square. "Having fun yet, freak? We'll get you yet, and whatever stupid freak friends you have lying around!" Two blasts sounded from the rooftops, and then two more. A streak of fire flew down from dragons and lit the sides of both vans so immediately that the trio of men from each had to abandon them. The sniper shots had taken out the engines of the smaller vehicles, which had the efect of scattering the Hounds out onto the street and behind cover. Suddenly the situation was far messier than they had planned. And screeching tires from further up the street said it was about to get even worse. [color=aquamarine][i]Well,[/i][/color] Darya thought to herself as both sides opened up with more gunfire. [color=aquamarine][i]At least I got some civilians out of here.[/i][/color]