“Good friends are hard to come by, hm?” The woman smiled, then twisted the ignition, firing up the SUV’s engine with a roar. The seats thrummed with the restrained power of the engine, and she backed out soon after, eye glancing at the truck’s digital clock. “Scheduling’s tight, so let’s talk on the way,” she spoke, pulling out into the road. “Call me Lenny. GEMINI’s headed out of Pax Septimus with an armed convoy, y’see, to one of their black sites down south. Can’t hold any Maverick for long when ol’ Black’s around, after all, so long-term detainment’s happening elsewhere. And that’s the opportunity.” As they turned out onto the interstate freeway, she turned on the radio, and chatter surged up. Men and women, [i]professionals[/i], reported positions and status to each other regularly, using lingo that rendered it near unintelligible. But it was clear that it wasn’t just a radio station either. “So we’re hitting them on the road. And as for why? Well, balance is nice to have, and a country with only GEMINIs is a shitty one. Like trusting an oil company to solve global warming.” Lenny flashed her teeth, shark-like. “But hey, you don’t need to worry ‘bout that. You’ve got a friend in need, after all.” … Thirty minutes later, on an empty stretch of road crisscrossing through flattened forests, the convoy was in sight. Two unmarked vehicles flanked a well-armored prison truck, and upon spotting the Jeep, one of the vehicles slowed down, using its positioning to force Lenny to slow down as well. There appeared to be no reason for them to engage otherwise, but the radio chatter made it clear that the Patriot was spotted and marked for observation. “Well, Tetrad, I’ll handle the driving, so you do the magicking.” She cracked her knuckles sequentially. “But do make it flashy.” [hr] [sub][@Izurich][/sub] Silmeria’s [i]coilgun[/i] fired with hardly any sound. A light “poot,” like a business executive discreetly farting in an elevator filled with his lady friends. No one would hear it. What they would hear, however, would be said gangster crying out in pain. Three shots from anything was a lot of hurt, and the gangster let it all out with a lion-like roar before falling onto his chest. Both Silmeria and the mobster looked up at Mika, who had turned around. She still held the keychain in her hand, which was glowing brighter and brighter. [color=tomato]”It’s happening!”[/color] She called out, as the keychain had disappeared under the veil of light. [color=tomato]”It’s happening!!”[/color] Her voice got louder as the shine got brighter. And then, and then… [center]BIENVENUE POWER BOTTOMS![h3]THESE APPLE BOTTOM JEANS WON'T FIT THEMSELVES[/h3][h2]MISSION ONE[/h2][h1]MAKE IT HAPPEN![/h1][/center] It died down. Mika lowered the keychain so that she could look at it. The attached charm looked like a tiny knight now that it wasn’t shining. [color=tomato]”Why isn’t it happening?”[/color] She shook the charm, but it did nothing. Even if the charm was a grimoire, it would not activate for just anyone. After all, grimoire’s “chose” their espers, and would not activate for another esper so long as its chosen esper still lived. Silmeria was not going to get backup from Mika. Regardless of what Mika did, the [i]weretiger[/i] still had its legs attached. The trio of shots were just enough to break the skin. It rolled over onto its back and lunged for the sniper’s throat. Silmeria wouldn’t have enough time to line up a second shot, as her footing started to become unstable. Another weretiger had approached the front of the vehicle and lifted it over its head. The crate in the back of the van slid into Silmeria’s back, pushing her closer to the incoming monster. [hr] [sub][@SilverPaw][@Majoras End][/sub] The receptionist yelped as Breacher’s gun flashed, a beam striking one arm as paper, drawn like iron dust to a magnet, converged upon it, locking one arm in place. Whatever the other arm meant to do didn’t matter when Leroux converged upon her, pinning her against the table and twisting her arms behind her back before slapping down a set of plastic ties. Whatever words the woman used however, failed to calm the receptionist in any way. Her breaths came in heavily and rapidly, the last bits of her rational mind keeping her from acting on instinct and struggling. Who knew what these maniacs would do to her otherwise? “GEMINI? Monsters? I-I don’t know what you’re talking about!” She sputtered. “Who even a-” While the receptionist’s anxiety spiked and spiraled, Timekeeper went over the desk as well, eyes scanning over the dual-monitor setup at a rapid pace. One monitor was on an Excel document that tracked finances, jumbled columns of numbers that he couldn’t immediately draw anything out from. Another monitor was a split screen that had a list of upcoming appointments, as well as a Youtube video with closed captions on, featuring a Swedish parkour artist cavorting over the tightly-packed rooftops of Indonesia. It looked, by all accounts and purposes, that the receptionist was just in the closed clinic to do administrative work. But perhaps there were other files to filter through. Darker dirt to dig. Those remained, however, as hypotheticals. As the receptionist continued to ramble near-incoherently, panicking over a scenario that made no sense, where weapons-bearing cosplayers broke into clinics without immediately demanding money the power in the clinic cut off. The monitors, all monitors, blinked out. Not more than three seconds later, the emergency power supply turned on, fluorescent spotlights illuminating the corridor. And with the emergence of those lights bringing the trio’s gaze upwards, they saw it too. An opaque half-sphere embedded in the ceiling. A security camera, observing them silently, anonymously. It was enough too, to stun the restrained receptionist into a confused quiet. [hr] [sub][@The World][@Ponn][@ERode][/sub] The bartender looked more and more cross as the espers continued to discuss how they were going to break into the penthouse. They were either deranged or using some weird gamer language to mask the seriousness of their intentions. The three officer-looking people who came in with them called for the bartender’s attention, but he would not be swayed. These nut jobs needed to go. He walked to the back of the bar while flipping open a cell phone and soon disappeared from view. Marrie noticed a few new faces enter the club. They weren’t hard to spot. A trio of big men with imposing frames that had the physique of a cartoon character. Bouncers, more than likely. They were dressed better than most present, and didn’t appear to be part of the costume party. It would take them a moment to reach the bar, but not terribly long. [b]”We didn’t even get to dance yet!”[/b] The smaller, vested police-officer pounded the counter. [b]”We should have ditched this job and gone to the rainforest! At least we’d be leaving in an ambulance!”[/b] The masked man raised a finger. [b]”We may still leave in an ambulance.”[/b] he added with his eloquent voice. The woman in the trio was too busy downing her glass of Jack Daniels to respond to anything. With the bartender gone, that meant that all refills were essentially free so long as she didn’t get caught. Not like she had a problem [s]having other people[/s] paying for her drinks, but if the bar suddenly became self-service, you couldn’t really fault anyone for thinking it had become a drinking buffet. She spun in her stool until she was looking at the espers. [b]”Anyone want a shot before they head off?”[/b]