[h2]Alessa Heather: Trainyard[/h2]
It didn’t take too long after Lillian was shot with whatever it was that the Wards finally regrouped entirely. Margrave managed to smack one of the clones round the head with a wooden bat, hard enough to crack it in two, before offering his assistance with carrying the injured dino-girl. Messiah accepted with a nod - she’d tell him what a good job he’d done later, she reckoned.

First, make sure everyone got out without dying. Upset was fine, dead wasn’t.

They did, fortunately. Epsilon immediately rushed forward and took a few deep breaths, saying something foul to Decoy specifically. Right. They didn’t have enough intel. Decoy was probably at fault for that, she felt. Was that fair? Probably not.

A couple of moments later, something detonated in the building, and the entire thing collapsed, crushing whatever Deans remained within. Burying them. That was it. The original was dead, all the clones were dead. Nothing remained in this universe of poor Dean.

Fuck. She teared up. She should’ve done more to help him when she had the chance. Fuuuck.

And Lillian agreed, too. Was that the first time she’d been heard to curse? Either way, she did it, and even as she struggled to remain conscious on the ground - as Alessa kept a tight hold of her hand - she detailed what had caused... from the sound of it, what had first caused her to freak out. Master protocol? Damn. Damn damn damn. The Jacks really weren’t people to mess around with, then.

Speaking of whom, some unknown approached them with a teenager over his shoulder, placing the kid in the back of their transport before addressing Lieutenant Reynolds about Lillian’s condition and leaping away. She needed medical attention ASAP, and from the look of things, so did Private Skeetz.

...oh yeah. She’d gotten injured too. Huh.

That guy was a Jack, wasn’t he. Bastard. Or, maybe not, if he helped save somebody who probably shouldn’t have been there.

‘Messiah, are you okay? You’re injured,’ Lieutenant Reynolds said, somewhat concerned.

‘Oh, yeah, I’m fine.’

When had she collapsed to her hands and knees. Why did she do that.

Oh yeah. Dead Deans.

Dead Deans everywhere. Puddles of blood and liquid meat and the real Dean exploded by some impossibly loud shot.

When did she start shrieking at the top of her lungs for a few seconds. Stop that.

Oh yeah. Dead-

She stood up, coughing away the slight pain in her throat now. She still held Lillian’s hand. ‘J-just fine. W-why do you a-ask?’ No, stop your voice trembling. That’s not leaderly. It’s not.

[hr]

[h2]Raymond Haywood: Trainyard[/h2]
For crying out loud, were they all idiots? Or was he just annoyed because they hadn’t immediately followed his orders as expected? Or, maybe Troll was having a lingering effect on him. In any case, he was somewhat upset, and short of slaying a couple more clones trying to make their escape, he could do nothing but wait for the other Jacks to show their faces.

Finally, somebody turned up before him: Jason, mentioning the presence of multiple clones of- really? Was he really under the impression Raymond hadn’t also heard Chatterbox mention his and Sofia’s new doppelgangers? And then, of course, he wandered off to help the two soldiers carry away the unconscious boy nearby. Why? Chances were, they were just going to come back later.

To hell with it. He had better things to be doing than waiting for the remaining two Jacks to get out of there. Following Jason’s one good bit of advice, he began to stroll toward the nearest car - only to see Chatterbox and Sofia on their way toward it. At least... some version of them. Quickly, and remaining as hidden as he could behind one of the external storage containers, he morphed his gun to its Desert Eagle form, then pointed it in their direction and scoped in.

[i]Target: Chatterbox. Version currently in view-[/i]

No, not even a hint of targeting. Were they the clones? Most likely, otherwise why would they still be under cloaking? Then again, why wouldn’t the originals also remain under cloak? More importantly, it struck Raymond that Chatterbox’s advice would be utterly worthless; if they were the clones, the Chatterbox of the duo would have potentially no qualms about mind controlling any of the other Jacks around. Didn’t the original Overrun claim “This isn’t my universe, so why not screw it up a little”, or something to that end?

Unfortunately, then, there was nothing to be done with them other than let them go for now, and either meet up with them back at the safehouse, or wait for a better opportunity to take them out individually if they turned out to be the false copies. Sofia couldn’t keep her eyes closed forever, after all.

Quite suddenly, something in the warehouse exploded, and it began to collapse before him; Raymond found himself forced to scramble away from the debris cloud as the building came down, briefly blinding and choking him before the dust settled. Well, if the beings still inside weren’t dead before, they were now.

And yet, for some insane reason, Jason had decided it would be a good idea to [i]approach the two unknowns.[/i] Not just him, but Heartless too - who at this point was just adding to a laundry list of idiocies in Raymond’s mind. Son of a... didn’t they realise how easily they could be turned to the copy Chatterbox’s will, if indeed that was a copy?

Speaking of copies, the other versions of he and Sofia found themselves visible at last. At least they’d gotten out of the warehouse before it collapsed. Though, would Sofia’s power have saved them from the building’s rubble? Admittedly, it probably would have, considering how that worked- why was he trying to figure it out? He needed to determine if they were the clones or not, because if they weren’t, Thunderbolt and Heartless were playing a very dangerous game.

Ignoring Heartless’ suggestion that they leave as soon as possible, and the loud scream of anguish that emerged from somewhere on the other side of the wrecked warehouse, Headhunter strolled casually over to the two unoccupied versions of his teammates, gun still drawn, and uttered to them ‘So what would you do if I said “purple venom” to you, Chatterbox?’