With no small amount of pride the Margrave watched his rubber bullets bounce off a number of the criminal scumbags, diverting their focus and thwarting their machinations with painful stings.  In mere moments the Community dogs' formation broke apart, perhaps in some small part because of the rampaging dinosaur, and they appeared to be in full retreat.  Pulling his free arm around behind his head with his elbow pointing straight up, he leaned back as he blew nonexistent smoke from the barrel of his MAC-10.  [color=8F9779]“Hmmhmm!”[/color] he sneered, [color=8F9779]”You scatter like leaves.  Looks like my darkness was darker than yours!”[/color]  After his count reached five, he unposed himself and took another look around.  Considering the significant threat posed by metas with unknown powers, this situation could scarcely have gone better.  [color=8F9779]”This situation could scarcely have gone better,”[/color] he remarked aloud, poignant and thoughtful.  The very next instant, a new voice resounded through the warehouse—female, and oozing with malice.  After her initial greeting, he pressed himself against cover while he scratched his head.  He could have sworn that he'd heard that voice before, but he could not for the life of him place the source.  No matter; if he couldn't remember, it couldn't have mattered.

What did matter was what Troll said next.  Maniacal, she spoke of an unknown Father, the prospect of soul-destroying suffering, and -most vilely- families of rats somewhere in the warehouse.  [i]Yech.  Hate those things.[/i]  Despite his unflappably cool demeanor, he did in fact jump a little as the doors to the building closed themselves in an abrupt and startling manner, which annoyed him.  [i]Hmph.  Naturally, the Margrave's body is so trained for survival that it moves of its own accord when confronted with any thread.[/i]  Steeling himself for some kind of emerging threat, the Margrave awaited what this unknown enemy had in store.  In short order she revealed that it wasn't she who would be going on the offensive, but someone else.

The slam of another door drew the Margrave's attention, and he zeroed in on the source.  Out onto an elevated catwalk strode an indescribable figure in black, who began to speak without delay.  He addressed the Wards in particular, his manner akin to a storied rival's, which struck the Margrave as hilarious as it was inappropriate since now was the first time he could ever remember encountering this villain.  Most peculiarly, he picked out Elliot by name, which might have been perturbing had someone by the name of Elliot been present and alive.  Unfortunately for this masked menace, there was only the Margrave, and following the word 'edgy' the Margrave's own manner turned critical.

Clones appeared to the tune of wild laughter, and the stranger began his assault.  Emerging from his hiding spot into the open, the Margrave extended his whole arm to drive his index finger like a lance toward the vagabond's heart.  A contemptuous smile on his face, he opened his mouth wide to heap disdain upon his unworthy foe.

Unfortunately, his words were utterly quashed by those of Chatterbox.

Tapping his foot, the Margrave waited patiently for the irritating man to cease his thundering.  A couple clones charge his position, but an almost-indifferent spray of rubber bullets from the Margrave's firearm told them that this land belonged to him.  All the while, he kept his arm out, the finger temporarily held in the upright 'wait' position.  When at last Chatterbox fell silent, the floor became the Margrave's once more.  

With renewed passion he thrust his pointer at 'Overrun'.  [color=8F9779]”Whoever the hell you are, you reek of a desperate and pathetic need for attention!  You think you look threatening, but I'm more worried about what Hot Topic is gonna do now that some tryhard's bought up all their stock!”[/color]  At about the same time as that sentence concluded, Tulpa's monstrous projection gave a bloodcurdling roar.  Shaking his head, the Margrave raised his voice a couple more notches and bellowed on.  [color=8F9779]”Normally a great hero such as I wouldn't bother giving such a lowlife the time of day, but seeing as you came all this way, I'll dole you out a fresh serving of justice before you scurry back to your mommy's basement!”[/color]  The clones were getting closer, and way more numerous, so he wasted no time reaching into his coat to pull out a small metal object.  Flicking it up and catching it like a coin, he reeled back like a pitcher preparing to throw a fastball.  Decoy's approval of lethal means came about then, which coaxed from the Margrave a wry smile.  [color=8F9779]”I'm three steps ahead of you, Decoy,”[/color] he muttered before raising his voice again.  [color=8F9779]”Choke on this, wannabe!  Rush Hour!”[/color]

Every ounce of the Margrave's strength hurled the tiny object at the swarm of approaching clones.  For a split second it was no more than a blur.  Then it returned to full size, becoming a scrapyard junk car flying into the clone brigade at sixty miles per hour.