[h2]Raymond Haywood: Trainyard --> Icehouse Hideout[/h2]
‘I knew he was a threat.’ Raymond’s words weren’t exactly unwarranted - whilst the drive back to the Icehouse Hideout hadn’t had much incident to it, he could feel Blabbermouth’s ramblings having some sort of effect on him even through the gag (now left in one pocket to be cleaned of saliva later). It was, he realised after the fact, an incessant niggling feeling, the sort of sensation that had gotten him to start ever so slightly regretting putting the gag on the alternate version of his companion.

Nonetheless, he hadn’t even realised it was there until it suddenly vanished, and Broker explained exactly why Blabbermouth was so dangerous: he couldn’t turn his power off at all. In a way, then, he felt quite justified in feeling a need to be brutish toward him at the time, even if Jason smacking him in the side of the head was perhaps mildly excessive.

Then came his death. His, and... well, he supposed the alternate Whimsy no longer needed a name. Headhunter remained unperturbed, minus the mildest of combat-instinct flinches as the initial unexpected shot went off, for he was quite sure she had her reasons for being slain too - excess baggage, if nothing else, or perhaps her power remained always on even with her eyes open, such that she could never eat or drink anything? In which case, her death was a mercy for her - yet the others claimed it was excessive. Well, maybe it was, without context to it.

‘For the sake of easing everyone’s minds, Broker,’ Raymond began politely, ‘would you mind explaining why the alternate Whimsy had to die too?’ Once an explanation had been received, and after seeing the box handed over and listening to Chatterbox’s statement that the Broker’s power interacted with other abilities somehow and the sentiment relating to what they’d agreed upon earlier, he’d simply nod and move over to where Heartless stood, as if to grab his own drink. And ah yes, he had his issues with him, too.

‘Since Mister Dwyer mentioned it, the original Overrun is dead, unless he can regenerate from being blown into giblets.’ Raymond’s mention of his murder was almost casual, and in a way, it was. He was a career assassin. Overrun was but one more kill to add to his tally. ‘It seemed a necessary matter to keep us alive at the time, but apparently failed to stop his power from functioning. As an addendum, I believe some clones were similar to the original power-wise, hence the original’s death not erasing them, whilst others varied in their abilities.

‘On an unrelated note, Ryan, you decided that bullying the Ward girl doing the scouting was the best way of shutting her up, instead of, say, tasing her unconscious? And then you went ahead and saved her life unnecessarily, after she threatened to kill us as a giant dinosaur. Dare I ask, [i]why[/i] do any of that?’ Despite his usual whisper, his tone spoke volumes of his displeasure. He’d curbed his desire to actually strike the man, for it’d likely have no particular success if the man simply dissolved into shadows to avoid it. Nonetheless, his fists were tightly clenched, if only to give them something else to do.