LeavesSeeing the eagerness of Epsilon to get in and get things underway, Protean smiled, though it was more of a nervous and unsure smile. The Decoy hologram provided a more sincere, genuine smile to the young Japanese girl. Despite being a machine generated image, it felt warm, not just a contraction of various facial muscles. "I believe you will do splendid, Riese-kun."
Then Tulpa eagerly stepped in, insisting that she accompany Ira in the interrogation. Protean nodded with a bit more confidence than what he had previously displayed. "Yes, best to come in from a stronger position. More people will give that image, right? Yeah. Let's do that."
Never to be outdone, Margrave was next, insisting that he "apply the pressure," and the two senior heroes couldn't help but stare at one another for a moment, brows raised. "I am not certain if we should be concerned about this or not."
"I get lost in your eyes so easily..."
"These aren't my eyes, Reece," Decoy spoke with a mild irritation.
Protean shrugged. "Same thing."
"Focus. You're senior and in charge."
"Oh, right right. Sorry, heh." The shapeshifter scratched the back of his head awkwardly, turning his attention to the Wards once more. "Yeah, pressure. Sounds good, Margrave. Just don't go overboard, ok? We're the good guys, after all."
Then it was Messiah's turn to volunteer, offering her services as the "good cop." Both heroes nodded in approval, and once the Ward's leader suggested that Epsilon procure her power nullifier for the interrogation it was clear Protean was impressed. He whistled his appreciation. "That the latest project you been working on? That's really impressive!"
"She's an inspired tinker," Decoy assured, "And like all tinkers, she'll go far once she has had the right time to prepare, and the inspiration to kick into drive. Unlike other tinkers, I believe her abilities will outweigh a good many of us. Myself included."
"Damn fine praise, babe. Well it looks like you're all roarin' and ready to go. So why don't I just open the flood gates and let you at'em? Her? It? Whatever. Just get what you can. Remember, we need to know about the rest of that team. Who they are, what they're after, where they're based at, anything you can get." Protean gestured for the Wards to follow, and began leading them around the corner where they would inevitably come upon the sealed door to the room in which their captive currently sat. As they walked, the hologram of Decoy flickered out of existence, but more holograms projected themselves from the walls, following the Wards. As the walked out of the range of one, it too would vanish and be replaced by a closer one.
"Do your best to get what you can, and let my software do the rest. I'll communicate in your earpieces if they're telling the truth, or a lie."
"Just be awesome. There's nothing you can't accomplish as long as you're awesome enough." With that Protean placed his hand on a palm scanner placed within a depression on the wall. A second later and the large mechanical door whirred and clicked, depressurizing and opening up, allowing the Wards to enter the cell...
The Jacks - Icehouse Hideout: Mission Accomplished
@yoshua171@BCTheEntity@Eklispe@floodtalon and introducing @Old Amsterdam
Th Broker was nearly out the door when suddenly a new individual walked in: a cape calling himself Thunderbolt. Further, Thunderbolt addressed the Broker as "boss," apologizing for his tardiness, then immediately began taking part in the Gamble-related festivities, suggesting some rather unsavory actions against the now powerless thinker.
"Ah, Thunderbolt. I am pleased to have our paths cross like this. I had not expected you until tomorrow. Capital." The well dressed Brit turned round to face everyone, standing in the doorway as Gamble was in the process of getting his ass handed to him. Arsenal, notably, gave their boss a nod and tipped his sombrero. "I have a confession to make, lady and gentlemen. One of your own has been a plant the entire time. While I had handpicked each of your for your specific skill sets, there was no telling how well you would function together as a team until you were together, so..."
"So the boss got me to come on the scene and watch how y'all worked together. Hanging out with you hombres was a good time an' all, but I got a feelin' my next job is taking me back to the dusty trail." Arsenal lifted his sombrero and gave the rest of the Jacks a wink. He stood from his chair, holstering one of his guns, and approached the Broker. "That the case?"
"Indeed," the Broker confirmed, nodding his head. "My next assignment for you is on the East coast, in the city of Brockton Bay."
"Do I at least get the opportunity to shoot somebody this time?"
"Sadly, no. The dead make for poor business, but at least you'll have the opportunity to cause a ruckus for the Protectorate."
"Least I got that." Arsenal sighed, then headed out the door without so much as a goodbye for his old team. Like a stranger drifting from one trail to another, it was almost as if they were just a pit stop in his own journey.
"Splendid. Well then, my favorite employees, I really do have to make myself scarce. Please enjoy rehabilitating Anthony Murdock. He certainly does not deserve to be called 'Gamble' anymore. Tata." Then their boss also made his way out the door, a jaunt in his step and a whistle at his lips. The man certainly seemed pleased. More pleased than Anthony Murdock was at the time.
Murdock's face was bruised and bloodied, his leg broken, and he moaned in pain, barely able to put up a resistance as he was forcibly sat in a chair by Headhunter. Swaying from the concussion, he managed to lock eyes with Chatterbox. "I will have my revenge."
The Minutemen and Others - Rocker Warehouse
Celia received no reply from Decoy after her rude remark. Either the famous tinker did not care, or was planning something subtle. Regardless, there was nothing the android could do about it now, so it would be better to focus on the situation at hand.
"Oh, joking. Right. I knew that." He definitely did not. "Well we've got to come up with something fast, or else we'll lose the element of surp-"
"Hey you! Get the hell off of our building, you costumed dipsticks!" The voice came from a man way down at the far end of the rooftop, about five foot ten, well built, Hispanic, wearing a hard hat and holding a pickaxe in his hand. The two signs of being connected to the Rockers.
"Well, nevermind. Still, that guy is either dumb as bricks or brave as a lion." G4M3R shook his head, somewhat disappointed.
"You really shouldn't mess with us!" Artificer called out, hopping back onto his giant fly. "Or you'll be arrested by the Minutemen!"
"The who?" called back the punk, completely clueless.
