[center][img]https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/217175409903534080/310907722625318914/cooltext243099446643387.png[/img][/center] [hr] [b]Time: Evening - Sherman Square Attack Location: Hounds Headquarters, Carver[/b] Seeing the fight wrap up, various other heroes took to Iron Knight’s call to follow him. The Alchemyst hesitated. Green eyes behind green tinted goggles tracked down from Pantheon to his open hand. Soaked through the bone from the rain, catching a breath in between bursts of adrenaline. News helicopters moved spotlights over Sherman Square, bright light focusing on them.Authorities were clearing a way into the square past the bodies, making arrests. Ambulances arrived next, paramedics checking for pulses. There was still work to do, but Charlie tried to get a clear thought in before rushing off again. It was a massive mess. Cleaning up the infrastructure, due process for all the arrests… She was hit with a massive call back to reality. If she survived this, storming their seemingly empty headquarters would there be a period of quiet after this? More importantly did it cripple the Witchfinder-General? His resources in the Hounds of Humanity would dry up, unless he already cut his losses. Breathing was getting harder. Tearing off the goggles and shuffling her mask down off her chin, she took a deep breath in. She grabbed Pantheon’s hand, nodding at Hex. Appreciating the offer to fly instead of the insistence. He [i]was[/i] listening, so was Hassan. He supported her bottom on the crook of his elbow, Charlie bunched up his cape in her hand to hold on, staff in her free hand. Hex did the same sitting in his other arm. Easily supporting both of them, lifting off the ground. Glancing down she saw one more mecha suited authority unit, barely catching what he said before they took off. [sub][color=6ecff6]“Excuse me, is there anybody here that could give us a lift?”[/color][/sub] He sounded polite enough, it was too bad Pantheon was an asshole. The wind whistled in her ears, the speed in which they caught up and soared past Iron Knight and other ‘slow’ fliers. The cool air helped clear her head a bit, she looked to Maddi. The exhaustion pulled at her body language, shoulders hunched against the wind the way she gripped her cane. The furrow of her brow told another story, the focus and absence of fear in her [i]pretty[/i] hazel eyes- Charlie glanced away. They were friends, fighting back to back. Charlie knew how easy it was to get caught up in a crush and read things wrong. Maddi was new to fighting, her certain powers and everything else that came with it. Charlie could hardly call herself an expert either. Charlie wondered how she must of looked, the fire still burned in her belly, materials weighed in her pockets. The fear of being surrounded earlier had cemented her to the spot, would she be able to reign it in again to snap into action. She felt unsure that much could be seen on her face. What damage could she cause for the Hounds if she was given free reign to run around? Especially with Maddi and Pantheon? As their base came into view, RPGS were fired toward Iron Knight and the fliers, unfortunately including Pantheon. “[color=honeydew]Hold on![/color]” She shouted. Pantheon’s grip on the pair of them tightened as he dodged the rocket. Iron Knight made short order of the welcoming party with knocking the Hounds on the ground out. They landed close by, Charlie shuffled her mask and goggles back in place hood being blown off, she didn’t bother to replace it. Her blonde hair was frizzing out from the rain and loosely kept braids. She looked to Lyger, Iron Knight, Radiance and Slipstream then to Pantheon and Hex. If they had hope to do this somewhat efficiently they would need to break down the defenses, punching and zapping their way through would just slow them down. The heavy hitters needed to make a precious strike. Not having a mind for tactics, Charlie saw the problem in a bigger picture. She walked up to Iron Knight, looking up at the head of the suit. Assuming the big-shot metas could see that way as well was another can of worms. “[color=honeydew]Still here willing to help, Iron Knight. Let us be the unpredictable element here, point us at what needs to be broken and we can guarantee it. My powers let me manipulate matter down to its core elements,[/color]” She began to explain. “[color=honeydew]I can [i]literally[/i] make holes in their defenses or walls.[/color]” “[color=honeydew]Lady Hex disintegrated their weapons and Pantheon took on a mech barehanded.[/color]” She said with pride and she was. She was proud of them. “[color=honeydew]We can operate non-lethally.[/color]” She was looking at Iron Knight but meant that for Pantheon. “[color=honeydew]Right, Pantheon?[/color]” “[color=honeydew]As Concerned Citizens, we just need one chance Richie Rich.[/color]” [hr] [i]Meanwhile. . .[/i] [sub][color=c0c0c0]“If my readings are correct, the Hounds have a base located on the waterfront of the nearby suburb, Carver. If someone here can’t fly or have some other form of transportation, you should pair up with someone who can. We need to strike quickly or all of this will be for not.”[/color][/sub] Just outside police lines an old man had joined the surgering crowd of emergency crews and volunteers, moving against the flow of people. He kept out of sight, coming away from the chaos that was currently Sherman Square. A clean shaven chin poked out beneath it, along with a long ponytail of grey hair. He had a hood over his head, walked in a leisurely way, calm, no rush, and certainly in no hurry. His jacket was woolly and full of pockets, his bare chest had wispy curly hair. Several necklaces of various metals and materials like wood and string - hung from his neck as well. His jeans were faded from the sun, pockets turned out to dry from the rain earlier. His flip flops clapped against the pavement as he walked. He leaned into the strange staff he walked with. The staff itself was the most polished thing about him. It was pitch, solid, when he passed by police vehicle lights the light reflected the particles floating around it. When he was well away from the crowds he straightened from his slouch, rolling up his sleeves. He jogged down a row of cars, looking for the oldest one among them. He managed to find an old black civic with manual locks on the door. He pressed his hand against the handle, the lock popped open and he climbed inside the driver’s side. Hot wiring it to start the engine he carefully reversed, pulling into the empty street following the heroes to their final destination for the evening. Following Vigilante, unbeknownst to either of them. Clearly, he was determined to witness this generation’s most foolhardy alchemist in action.