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Grace pouted as Tom snatched away her notepad, looking like a child that just had her favorite toy taken away. In a way, the analogy was not too far from the truth. [color=DarkOrchid]"To~m! You [i]know[/i] that I need to plan ahead! How else can I possibly maximize the time efficiency of this vacation? I want to make the most productive use of every second of our time together, and the only way I can do that is by properly allotting our total time into given subsections! That's the only way we can optimize this entire experience!"[/color] Grace ranted, but her annoyance quickly subsided, perhaps because of the nice Caribbean air or something like that. [color=DarkOrchid]"Alright, fine...I'll try being a little more...[i]chill,[/i]"[/color] Grace said mopily. [color=DarkOrchid]"I've never understood why you want me to be more...[i]spontaneous.[/i] Surely we have enough entropy and disorder in the natural universe already, which is beyond the control of physicists. At the very least I should be able to plan our dates..."[/color] Grace said to herself, but she relented nonetheless, taking off her hat and sunglasses and resting them on the desk. [color=DarkOrchid]"Alright, hot stone massage. Let's go. This is bound to be relaxing, that's for sure..."[/color]

Grace stepped back out into the Caribbean sun, stretching and enjoying the sensation of the daylight touching her skin. She walked down the boardwalk, noticing the hut right next to theirs was the Great White Shark Hut. [color=DarkOrchid]"That's the Director's hut,"[/color] Grace said, having quickly observed the key that Powers had taken earlier. She looked at his doorstep, which still had some of his luggage on it, and noticed something that bothered her somewhat. Sitting in front of his door was a large green bag, and inside the bag was an item that seemed to vaguely resemble an assault rifle. Her observation was quickly overpowered by her rationality- there was no way Powers could've smuggled weapons to a vacation, and there was [i]no reason[/i] for Powers to do so anyways, right? Grace pushed the idea out of her mind as much as possible as she took Tom's hand. [color=DarkOrchid]"Let's go,"[/color] she said, walking across the island with a bit of spring in her step, but the image of Powers' weapon-bag still gnawed at her mind as the couple made their way over to the massage parlor. Was there more at play here than Grace thought? 

The massage parlor on the island was a large, swanky-looking building of marble with golden highlights that was surrounded by palm trees, with a sliding glass door. It was an impressively fancy structure, Grace had to admit. She walked past two golden dolphin fountains, speaking to the woman behind the desk. [color=DarkOrchid]"We have an appointment,"[/color] she said bluntly to the lady, who smiled and tapped her computer a few times. “Of course. You’re in the Ocean Room. Your masseur will be with you shortly,” she said. Grace nodded stiffly, gesturing towards Tom to come over. She walked down the hallway, entering the room labelled “Ocean.”

The room was filled with water-themed decor, with waves painted on the walls and conch shells everywhere. There were a couple wooden buckets full of what Grace assumed would be the hot stones for the massage, and two massage beds sat in the middle of the room. Grace smiled relaxedly, looking over at Tom. [color=DarkOrchid]"This is...nice,"[/color] she said plainly, leaning towards Tom and standing on her toes, briefly resting her lips against the bottom of Tom’s chin for a moment before withdrawing, her eyes twinkling with a delight that Grace rarely exhibited. [color=DarkOrchid]"I like this. Not having to work or deal with that stress, getting to hang out in the sun...it’s perfect,"[/color] Grace said with a demure smile. [color=DarkOrchid]"And I’m so happy I get to do it with you."[/color] She looked at Tom warmly. [color=DarkOrchid]"Let’s get ready, then?"[/color]

Grace unbuttoned her shirt, taking it off to reveal a vibrantly tropical and distinctively un-Grace-like bikini of bright orange and hot pink. She gave Tom a coy smile before she kicked off her shorts as well, scooping her clothes in her hand and walking over to find a place to hang them. [color=DarkOrchid]"Alright, now we just have to wind back and let the magic happen...”[/color] Grace hung her clothes on a peg above several large prop barrels (like something one would find on a pirate ship) before sitting down on one of the massage beds, kicking her legs back and forth. [color=DarkOrchid]"Sooo..."[/color] Grace said, looking at the wall. [color=DarkOrchid]"This is a long wait. Guess they’re busy today...well, we can definitely talk about something! Like...I dunno. Ooh, movies!"[/color] Movies were always a safe conversation topic. [color=DarkOrchid]"You know, I don’t think I’ve ever figured out what your favorite movie was. So, what’s your favorite movie? Actually, I don’t know too many of your favorite things at all. Favorite food? Favorite ice cream flavor? Favorite animal? Man, I wish we had more chances to just [i]talk…[/i]"[/color]

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Blake was very busy thinking about his epic tale and backstory that he would give to the other mobsters, but his daydreams were interrupted by somebody speaking to him. [color=CC5500]"Who’s the armor? Oh, the armory! Got it."[/color] Blake stood, resting his files on the table. [color=CC5500]"Let’s go! And yeah, I’m 99% sure Christina is joking. 99%,"[/color] Blake repeated as he made his way out of the room, heading over to the elevator. He pressed the 9th floor button, and the elevator zoomed up. When the doors opened again, an entirely different scene awaited them. Sleek black metal walls with pulsing teal lights filled the area. Several display cases with various HERO memorabilia were presented along the walls. 

[color=CC5500]"Here’s the armory. It’s super cool. They have scientists here that make shit just for us. Just for us! Isn’t that neat?"[/color] Blake guided Max down the hall, past plenty of display cases, towards an area with two doorways, one labelled with a little blue man and the other a little pink girl. Blake pushed open the door with the man symbol, revealing a large area, similar to a locker room.

[color=CC5500]"Everybody has a locker. Yours is in here somewhere...the people who work here deposit all our hero stuff right into the lockers. All our mail, new equipment, y’know. Here’s mine...."[/color] Blake pressed his palm to the encryptor before he swung his locker door open, a pile of fan mail pouring out from inside. Blake picked a bright pink envelope that was covered in hearts up, making a face, before throwing it back into the pile. [color=CC5500]"You didn’t see anything,"[/color] Blake said, pointing index and middle finger at the pile, and in a split second the entire mass of letters lit up in ember flames before vanishing. [color=CC5500]"I hope Angie doesn’t dig around through my stuff, ew...anyway, HERO gives us some complementary stuff to use, even though most of it is useless."[/color] Blake removed what appeared to be a sparkly leotard from his locker. [color=CC5500]"I’m pretty sure this one is just a straight-up joke."[/color] He tossed it back in. [color=CC5500]"Ooh, element gun!."[/color] Blake removed what appeared to be an elaborate flare gun from the locker. [color=CC5500]"Here, this gun lets you compact your powers up and shoot it in a blast. You want it?"[/color] Blake tossed the weapon over to Max. [color=CC5500]"Tornado gun! Now, that sounds [i]sick.[/i]"[/color]

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Christina chuckled. [color=salmon]"No dice, I’m afraid. Can’t go starting a whole campaign now...,"[/color] she said, looking over at the brewing conflict at the table. [color=salmon]"Excellent points, you guys. Much of the information is actually contained in the dossier. But in short- yes, the Black Baron does have powers, and the fact that he does have superpowers is exactly why we know it’s him.”[/color] Christina said, opening up her own files. [color=salmon]"Baron’s power is called Omen. An exceedingly dangerous superpower. There’s some scientific explanation involving microscopic bacteria and stuff, but in essence, if he cuts your skin, you die,"[/color] Christina said.. [color=salmon]"His power allows him to rapidly exacerbate the effects of a small wound. A paper cut becomes a gash oozing with blood. A stab wound becomes...well, at that point, you’re done,"[/color] Christina said. [color=salmon]"The way that the two recent murders were committed were highly consistent with the Baron’s powers. You can copy a modus operandi, but it’s very difficult to copy a superpower."[/color]

Christina laughed at Brooke’s place. [color=salmon]"Cute, but I don’t think Mrs. McMaimKill is fooling anybody."[/color] She rested both her elbows against the table, leaning forwards. [color=salmon]"Imagine...that you’re your favorite character from a movie! And try and channel that energy! A whole different type of energy. Acting is just feeling like and being somebody that you aren’t. Anybody can do it,"[/color] Christina said warmly. [color=salmon]"In any case, we’re going to need a couple people to play hostages. Can’t have too many superheroes disguising themselves at once. Too many newcomers would be suspicious. And plus, bring a hostage is like bringing a bottle of wine in the criminal world. It’ll help ease tensions and establish trust. Any volunteers?"[/color]

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Powers lightly tapped the ballet, sending a croquet ball rolling elegantly through one of the wickets. [color=lightslategray]"Both of those assertions are definitely well-founded and valid predictions, but they are also both false."[/color] Powers lifted his croquet ballet, his eyes rising from his ball up to the horizon.  [color=lightslategray]"The reason I summoned you here privately is because I reasoned that you would be undeniably much less interested in the resort than the rest of the group. I feel guilty interrupting the rest of the...much, much younger heroes from their vacation, and I believed that you would be more interested in something...exciting. Eventually, the rest of the group will be informed, but it would be best if we can get the preliminary housekeeping out of the way first."[/color] Powers rested his mallet over his broad shoulders, one muscled arm grasping each end of the hammer. 

[color=lightslategray]"The first piece of legislation passed by ICOSA was the Commission Act, in 1816. It formalized the establishment of territories for autonomous hero companies to police. However, there were some shortcomings to the act, leaving several areas open to interpretation, which has led to a lack of coverage in those regions. The United States Virgin Islands, for instance, is theoretically under jurisdiction of both TEXAS and CARD. Because of this, it is truthfully under neither of their jurisdictions, meaning that any enterprising criminal could use these locations for nefarious purposes.[/color] 

[color=lightslategray]”It is my belief that the organization known as Zero, a nefarious group of villains hellbent on world domination, have been using this resort as a money laundering source, and that they have set up a base somewhere on the island. My goal during this ‘vacation’ was to root ZERO out alone while the rest of the group was enjoying the spa treatments. If you would like, you could join me on this expedition.”[/color]

Powers swung his mallet down again, sending his ball spiraling through another wicket. [color=lightslategray]”My initial assumption was that you would prefer to do nothing this entire vacation, meaning that you would be accepting of my proposition. Of course, if you want, you are more than free to go vacation with the others. I believe happy hour will be commencing in a few hours, and I expect things to get quite rowdy, knowing the rest of them.”[/color] Powers lifted the mallet. [color=lightslategray]”The choice is yours. Also, it’s your turn to go. It would be disappointing if a native Briton were to be schooled by an American in a traditional game of croquet.”[/color]

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