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    1. solokolos 10 yrs ago

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Ayyyy lmao.
Email is Solokolos@protonmail.com
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Sarah Reiter and Amon Relmeral

One Night in Hell

Arc 2, day 1
Time: 7:00 pm
Walking past most of the line, she grabbed a more cute than hot Prae's hand near the front of the line. The cool air cut across and through her dress, and she looked up at him smiling. "Hi there. Do you mind if I pretend I'm your girlfriend for a bit? I'll buy you a drink~" Sarah said, also trying to go for cute. The boy had very light hair, trending towards the younger side, even with the Prae advantage. He didn't seem too intimidating when it came to ambient vis, and she knew she'd be even less impressive to him. The dress fit her even better out in the wild (so to speak) than it did in front of her mirror. Sarah tried to ignore the fact that she had to look down to see the Prae, focusing instead on being overly affectionate.

Amon raised his eyes at the flashily dressed girl, somewhat literally in this case as she was taller than him, and figuratively, because it was quite a surprise. "Well I would ask if we have to pretend but I'm also not an ass. How about I buy you a drink, you pretend I'm your boyfriend and we call it even?" Amon asked cheerily. Frankly she seemed a little clingy, but he didn't really mind much at the moment, after all he barely knew her so it wasn't fair to judge.

She laughed, quietly, while nodding her head in affirmation. "I feel like you're on the losing end of that deal, but I won't complain loudly." Before they could continue, the bouncer motioned them forward, and waved them past quickly. He didn't seem to notice the mismatched couple, and Sarah didn't seem to care either. She gave him a bit more room once they were past the door, walking beside him, as opposed to against him. "What's your name, by the by?" She asked, watching him with a gentle ease surrounding her. The word to describe her was probably comfortable. Sarah was in her element here.

"Amon's the name, ligh- well you'll see what my game is later. What do you need a fake bf for anyway, isn't half the point of these things to candoodle Miss... ?" Amon asked casually as they approached the bar to buy each other drinks instead of buy drinks for themselves like normal people. His eyes scanned the crowd for official looking people and also people likely to throw him out. He was planning on doing something flashy to get attention and make his subsequent request for a job more appetizing, it would be a bit of a shame if he got thrown out beforehand because someone thought he was doing something aggressive.

"Oh my god, you actually used the word candoodle" She said, a half-snort half-laugh escaping her mouth as they approached the bar. "My name is Sarah, and I just wanted to skip the line with an excuse to talk to you." The girl said, seeming honest. It was easier for her to get the attention of the bartender than Amon, though she also had a bit more sex appeal. He was lacking a few inches in one of the places it counted. Ignoring that train of thought, she turned to him with the bartender walking over. "What would you like, my white knight who saved me from the cold?" She asked, smiling wide at her own joke.

Amon found himself laughing as well, Sarah's impulsive reaction contagious. "Hey, it's a good word." he said, mockingly defending himself from her unjust mockery! The two of them took a seat and Sarah quickly got the attention of the bartender, albeit not hard to do in that outfit. "I'll take that compliment, though I warn you I'm even more interesting then I look. A martini with a twist will do for me; and what does the damsel in distress desire?" Amon asked confidently, his speech smooth and measured, casual banter like this came natural to him at this point.

She hadn't actually considered it beforehand, but a martini did sound nice. "Your Damsel would also enjoy a martini," Sarah said, nodding at the bartender. Turning back to Amon, she smiled. "You said something about light earlier? You're Prae, so I'm guessing you're a magic man?" Her voice was curious, clearly wanting him to continue that train of thought from earlier.

"Magic man is as apt a description as any. I'm a wandering performer and I've wandered here, looks like it could be a fun place so I'm thinking about putting on a show, to convince the staff I'm a worth hire for however long I'm sticking around for. " Amon said flippantly. His plans were no secret so he didn't mind talking about them, after all the rest of the crowd would be unprepared for his surprise so it wouldn't ruin it to tell one person.

Another giggle escaped her lips. "That's your plan? Am I mistaken, or is it not normal for people to start showing off their talents in crowded clubs? I can play a bit of violin, should I just start preforming over the music?" Sarah asked, clearly not meaning harm by the teasing. "Despite my negativity, I hope you do well for yourself!" She said, the bartender suddenly sliding the two drinks across the bar's top. She slipped some cash out of her pocket, and slid it across the counter. Taking a sip, she enjoyed the taste. Amon's alcohol choice and the drink itself.

"Hm, is it really that odd? I figured it was a good way to get attention. Do you think just applying would be a better idea? Most of the time I just do my thing and people throw some money at me." Amon shrugged and grabbed his glass, taking some of his own money out to pay for Sarah's. He shook his glass around a little and the clear drink swirled around for a bit: then there was a tiny flash of light and it became a swirling vortex of colors like that of a far away galaxy, sparkling purple and blue twined around each other. He took a sip of the colorful concoction and smiled. "I figured I could brighten the place up a little."

Bemused curiosity lit up Sarah's face as she watched the contents of his glass. "Again, the best of luck. I'm going to find a friend, but it was nice talking to you. Do you want to exchange phone numbers?" She asked, then laughed a bit to herself. "Not to sound like a character in a Pokémon game"

Amon set down his drink and it returned to normal. "Of course! I'd be sorely amiss as to forgo the chance for further conversation with such an alluring damsel, though I think I'll drop that nickname for it as I get the feeling its really rather unfitting. " Amon flicked his wrist and his phone rolled up his sleeve into his hand: though it would appear more as though it had teleported there. "I think I'll take you advice and your number if you're be so kind."

Taking his phone, she quickly entered some information into it, and turned off the screen before handing it back. "Text me, I'd love to talk to you again," Sarah said, placing the phone on the bar top between them, before downing her martini. "I'm sure I'll see you again" Standing up from the bar, she moved further into the club without looking back.

The phone returned to Amon's sleeve without him bothering to look at it, "Sounds good, you can count on it." He said cheerily and take another sip of his martini as Sarah walked away. Guess he needed to find the employer of this fine establishment. He waved the bartender over.
Nora



Iron filled her throat, choking her, The smell had finally reached her, and now it was fight between the iron pushing down her throat, and the bile pushing up. Ira's eyes burned, the tears collecting on the goggle-like frames of her mask. A crisp voice cut through the noise, finally someone speaking a language she could understand. Decoy. He was sticking to his guns, defending his decision in a roundabout way. If her teammates hesitated in killing the clone-the people. If they didn't fight with full intention of winning, they would die.

After this though, did they deserve it? Was it okay to kill civilians who were mind controlled to save your own skin? It wasn't their fault, they were given a command from Martyr. She remembered that from their talk. The name; Martyr. Oh god. She reached up to pull her mask off, and was pulled suddenly by the soldier accompanying her. The sudden lurch tore a burning sob from her lips, the tears splattering against the hard concrete. Gunshots kept splitting the air, making her flinch. "My mask isn't in my hands anymore," the thought passed quickly, fleeting and forgotten soon after. She kept moving forward after Reynolds stopped, before the wall fell apart. Blinking, she pushed past some kid, and breathed air that wasn't suffocatingly stale. In English she said to her live transmitter "What the fuck Decoy?"
Nora
Denver Streets

The sun was still high in the sky as Visage departed from the Rocker's headquarters. So much work done in one day, without so much as a second wasted. It was a very refreshing feeling, though she had no time to revel in it. That would ruin her streak after all.

She moved, drifting from one alley to the next, as she retraced her steps. Ducking down after a few minutes, she made sure she was alone before she continued. Hidden where two buildings meet was a black canvas bag, sharp bits of rough clothing visible from where they poked against its edges. It was slightly damp on the bottom from where she had stuffed her jeans. Again, Visage glanced around, before slinging it over her back, and continuing her walk though the Rocker's territory.

She wanted to laugh, to giggle and hug herself, it was just so damn exciting. Restraint had been so difficult, the urge to plant a node on Furnace, on Protean, on anyone and everyone ever present. But no, she had to do this right. A master power demanded control, not just of others, but of one's self as well. Detecting if someone had been compromised by a master power was just too easy, as the precaution taken by Director Kens had proven, but there was an out. Dormant master powers were very hard to detect, and weeding candidates that were compromised by that sort of power out of potential missions was near impossible to preform with 100% certainty.

Her power could turn into a virus, with compromised individuals unknowingly spreading nodes. It was a bit of a giveaway that they couldn't see while she was preforming her limited clairvoyance, but it was still a useful tool. For a major amount of time, she had considered countering perfect responses to her powers, assuming that a full swat team would be going against her, equipped with tinker-assisted vision.

That wasn't the standard fight however. She would slowly become a known entity as her career continued, leading to more and better responses to her presence at any given fight. That's where the importance of misinformation came from, investing in security by obscurity. From the simple stuff, like keeping information about her powers off parahumans online, to interfering with Watchdog.

The city had melted around her, her thoughts consuming her. Steps and countersteps ran parallel tracks in her head. In all honesty, her minute predictions weren't very accurate. Visage was willing to accept that too, but her broader insights weren't particularly bad. She knew, for a fact, that caution would help her more than recklessness. If the specifics escaped her, so be it.

Thinking about it, the Vegas capes were the ones to emulate, with all the ones worth noting being largely poorly understood. Fighting unknown entities was very difficult, and so she had to adapt to that lifestyle. The largest disadvantage villain groups had were resources. When push came to shove, it was easy for the hero side to ask for favors. From the villain side, letting fellow teams lose encounters also meant less competition, and a good chance of gaining territory.

Nora reviewed her knowledge of Purge, from the many message boards she had visited. He had a mafia aesthetic, but it wasn't 100% confirmed he was from any actual mafia family. At least not personally confirmed. Taking information found online with a grain of salt was important. The amount of salt she had to take to weigh against information about his power was very small, however. His power seemed to be a thinker, specializing in hiding his presence at a crime scene. Any crime that was known to be associated with his gang lacked any and all evidence. Gone without a trace, every time. The lack of evidence lead to a lot of speculation, with the most popular theory agreeing with Nora's current view at the time. All-in-all he was a careful B-lister at best. Then again, many people might call the Rocker's B-listers. It'd be hard for Nora to make a counter-argument to that, honestly.

The world filtered back into focus as the bar loomed in front of her. Mask still clinging tightly to her face, she walked forward, already having planned out her entrance. The street was clear of cars when she crossed it, sprawling out into dinghy streets in both directions. She opened the door swiftly, letting it close from its own weight behind her. The bar had few people this early in the day. The place looked barren, the thin chairs scattered around the tables not helping that aesthetic. There were seven tables, by Visage's count, and not a single person sat at any of them. The bar held two people, gruff, strong men. Their clothes were nicer than the shitty beer in front of them. Probably old vices, like the menthols one of them smoked.

She stuck out, plain and simple. She sat next to the one on the right, and only her confidence stopped them from trying to sate their curiousity about her immedietly. She orderer a martini, and the bartender couldn't be hassled to ID her. She turned towards the men, eyeing them directly. "Are you Purge's lieutenants?" Visage aeked, her voice steady.

Hermes:
Laying the Groundwork

@Old Amsterdam

An audible groan escaped Herme's lips as Protean made his quip. Pushing forward, he took a step before teleporting to two of the most active guards. He grabbed their sleeves, and focused on one of the cells. Pushing past the mental barrier, he teleported again, and stayed suspended for longer than he expected. Just as he wondered how far he had actually pushed himself, he appeared in the stark white cell.

That was farther than he remembered.

He teleported again, as soon as he could, choosing the safe position he had watched from before. It seemed to take less time on this one, but he tried to ignore this fluctuation in his power. He reappeared, and again focusd on the room. One had been trying to escape in his direction, but the mover grabbed him by the collar. Dragging him back, he threw him against a wall, before kicking him in the face. Out cold. He walked forward, looking nonchalantly upon Protean's work.


Everything was happening so fast, Epsilon was feeling overwhelmed. It was Martyr, she was sure, The Community had twisted him, and she felt a similar grief to losing Sonar in the field. Everyone fought back so damn readily though, working together while she just watched from afar. She shut off her nullification field, gazing over the large number of Deans. Then something caught her eye, a Dean surviving a car being thrown at him, as if he had a different power than the rest. She pulled out her goggles, the white noise of everyone around her getting louder and less intelligible. A sea of green met her, every Dean glowing as brightly as. . . Messiah. As Protean. That wasn't right though, the goggles didn't react to squirrels, it didn't react to rocks, it shouldn't react to Master minions.

Epsilon collapsed onto her knees, bile burning her throat.That doesn't make sense, that doesn't-they're meat mush, they're-they're not. She remembered a passing moment, talking to Dean about his power. He was so uncomfortable throughout, and when she proposed testing the clones he seemed appalled at the idea. The noise was reaching a crescendo, and Epsilon was struggling for breath now.

""They're people." She mumbled, her voice too low for the live mic to pick up.
Nora
Protectorate Headquarters and Rocker's Headquarters







Focus shifting, Zach looked over at the newcomers. Ignoring the angel, he moved forward, picking another gun off a twitching thug. He fired into the air five shots ringing off before the clicking of an empty magazine reminded him of its limited capacity. ”I'm perfectly keen on the idea of knocking every fucking one of you unconscious. Just throw down your weapons and leave." He shouted, with no bullets responding to his call. It was mostly over then, that was good. He unclipped his baton, staring at the newcomers. ”You two should probably evacuate, and you, girly, don't know shit about us. It's already a bad day, lets keep it from getting worse" His voice trailed off near the end as another unintelligent individual rushed him, knife raised. He ducked under the cut, letting it go over his head as he extended the baton; it caught the man's arm, making him release the knife.

A voice called out from above, the string girl it seemed. He shrugged at her, not getting the full conversation, and therefore not knowing how to react. His power would prevent any real danger from appearing from those strings, so it didn't particularly threaten him. The derangement he had been given was also in full force, with his shard encouraging the fighting as well without his knowledge.

Hermes:
Laying the Groundwork

@Old Amsterdam

A simple nod was elicited in response to the warning, and another for the order. Soft footfalls accompanied their ever so lonely presence. Hermes motioned to go first, going silent for this part of the mission. Pushing on the double doors, he peaked inside, clearing the room, before motioning to Protean the all clear. He teleported forward, into a spot that covered him from the hallway, letting him lean further in as his larger teammate followed. Peaking around the corner he could not only hear music, but muffled chatter. The silent approach was working so far. Almost under his breath, he conveyed the situation to Decoy. "Twenty individuals, hard to tell how many are armed. I can take out two before they're alert. Advice? Or a holding cell I can place an armed individual?"

The channel he was on connected solely to Decoy, with instructions to pass on relevant information to his teammates. He leaned back around the corner, taking a stressed breath. Though he wasn't supposed to be giving orders, he still motioned for Protean to take a complimentary position to his on the safer side of the hallway. It was habit, being control of the operations he conducted, and his power offered such scouting abilities that he was more often than not the one with a lot more information than everybody else.

There was a certain amount of dissonance, that now even Chatterbox's power couldn't overcome. Thinking over sentences again, they were worded specifically, but they sometimes were contradicted by knowledge already gained. Chatterbox made the claim his team was prestigious, but at the same time Epsilon, one of the biggest cape nerds present, didn't know any of them off hand. His power would push back, covering odd phrasings like that just enough to still affect her, but still. It was a strange mix of emotions for Epsilon, and she was tempted to report it.

She suddenly leaped out of cover again, sprinting to help intercept the villains who had moved further into the building, her gun almost slipping out of her hands at one point. The soldier followed her dutifully, his automatic rifle at the ready, armed with nonlethal rounds. Epsilon glanced back, meeting his eyes again with a quick timid glance. Refocusing, she narrowly avoided running into a forklift. Her face flushed under her mask, as she continued in the flanking direction.


The victim Zach had been assaulting had gone limp, and he looked around. The numbers had dwindled. He heard yelling overhead, and couldn't quite care enough to look up. He tucked away his baton onto his belt, before picking up a gun the man had dropped. It was a glock variant, loaded with actual rounds. They intended to kill or maim it seemed. He raised the gun, firing into the air above three times before it clicked with dissatisfaction matching his own. The catharsis was interrupted by a lack of bullets.

”It's over. You lost." He said in the moments of silence following. Another gunshot sounded, and pinged off his shield, before creating a cloud of dust beneath him. Another barrage of gunshots were fired at not Zach. He glanced in the direction some of the guns were pointed to see a quite intimidating figure. Pristine, an angelic figure in the most literal sense. Yellow hair floated around her, an unseen wind supporting strands just enough to make her seem all the more holy. Next time I should listen to the mission briefing. Didn't expect to fight literal Angels.

Hermes:
Laying the Groundwork

@Eklispe@Old Amsterdam

He readied his elbow, throwing it backwards with some force before teleporting up onto the catwalk. He reappeared, and a moment later his elbow had broken a Community member's nose. Hermes reached out to grab the man's shirt, and teleported him down to the ground floor. He let him collapse onto the hard floor, the still conscious man trying to stifle the heavy blood flow as he got used to his new surroundings. Hermes pulled back the hammer on his empty revolver, standing straight up and pointing it at the goon. "Lets keep it nice and quiet. I don't want to give you a concussion." The man opened his mouth to speak, and Hermes by tightening his grip on his gun. Instantly the goon raised his hands, letting blood splash over his clothes and drip down his chin. His lips quivered, detaching more droplets of blood from his bruised lip. "We don't need this anymore, so lets just talk." The mover said, tucking the gun away in his holster. In response the criminal yelled out, and Jaunted kicked out. The second his foot touched the man, he teleported them to the nearest police station.

A long breath escaped his lips as they arrived, the screaming continuing throughout the void he was sure. He threw his handcuffs attached to his belt to the nearest officer, motioning towards the very silly man. Focusing on the previous location, he teleported back to the warehouse. He arrived amidst Protean and Inkscape, the two heroes treating him the same way they always did. A caution surrounded the orders they gave him, always something they could double check later. It would be so much simpler if he could just do 99% of the work. "He didn't cooperate. Next one coming up." He eyed the man on the cat walk far above, gauging the speed at which he was walking. Raising his foot, he kicked out at about chest level, midway through tripping the little trigger in his mind. He appeared out of thin air, a couple feet off the ground as his foot connected with the man's face. He reached out to keep his balance with the handrails, before moving forward to grab the man's leg.

They appeared at the top of a twelve story building, the man struggling backwards as the world reformed around him. "Now for fucks sake, just talk-" The man wasted no time screaming out. How stupid are these fucking-GAH He grabbed the man's leg, and teleported them to the police station again, right next to the man he'd already teleported here. "Another." He said, teleporting away almost instantly.

The hero appeared again, his body language screaming of agitation. "Why do the gangs hire such dumb pricks?" He mumbled, looking between the two heroes. His costume choice hadn't been much of that. He wore black, tight clothing over various bits of body armor. A PRT communicator was inside his right ear, barely visible underneath the thick helmet he wore. It covered the back of his head better than the front, covering only his eyes with a dark blue visor. A thick belt sat on his waist, tightly pressing against his skin, in the places it didn't dig in. A holster sat there, with an empty revolver present more for intimidation than anything else. Two flash grenades hung on the left side, along with a small medical pouch filling out the back.

"Wait-yeah, they also hired me at one point." He admitted, a long breath escaping his lips, holding back a laugh.

Talk talk talk talk. Did this guy ever love the sound of his own voice. When he yelled shame, Ira flinched at the loud noise. The soldier next to her kept her steady with his presence and his unflinching resolve. He kept going, talking about an eventful escape. The kind of thing Epsilon absolutely loved the sound of spoiling. She shifted slightly, pressing herself against one of the warehouse shelves, large boxes blocking view of her from the other side. He continued on and on, and words seemed to stick in her head. It was a subtle thing, hardly noticeable. Shame, not eventful. She kept her eyes on the soldier, watching his reaction. Nothing. They were fine, they were fine. Barely audible, Epsilon heard the sound of footsteps drawing closer, though the sound stopped soon after. She shifted the grip of her gun in her hand, trying to calm her unsteady breaths. Her hands were clammy, the grip unsteady. The steps played out again, and this time Epsilon picked out that there it was a pair of steps. Retreating, maybe. They might've stepped into the field, but the young tinker filed that down in her head as unlikely. Now that Epsilon replayed his words in her head, she noted the word escape again. It was doubtful they had full coverage of the building, and that was not good news.

Moving quickly now, she motioned for the soldier to follow her in a pretty obvious come on motion. He responded immediately, watching their back while moving backwards at a decent clip. She wanted to put herself in a position best suited to stop their escape. Just the smallest fraction, Epsilon slowed down, dread clawing at her with glancing blows. They couldn't stop them, especially Epsilon. Powers. Powers implied power, but it just wasn't the case for Epsilon. If anything she felt just a powerless now as she di-back then. She saw Margrave just as a door opened on her right. Epsilon shifted, pulling her gun up, before recognizing Messiah's costume. She had missed some of the conversation, it seemed, but now Messiah gave a simple command. Move in on them. Epsilon nodded, her resolve hardening once again. Lifting her left hand, she activated the comm piece, and spoke to her teammates. "I'm gonna try my best to make them literally powerless, guys. We can win this,

Despite the brave front, only being employed because of her position as second in command, she didn't quite believe it. She moved to a location in the opposite direction of where she had been running earlier, slipping between two shelves, and quickly crossing the empty space where no shelves were standing. Time to flank them as safely as she could without getting shot, and crossed another gap before stopping to throw them off. If they had been leading her, she would have a moment of confusion. It felt like she was trying to predict fifty moves ahead, without knowing if her opponent was even at the table.

Zach Kozel:
A warehouse

@Gardevoiran@Spiffy@Xandrya

The young man stood in the middle of the sidewalk in front of the store, patiently awaiting Farce's confirmation. As soon as the radio flicked on, he moved, not waiting for actual words. Confidence in his safety was obvious in every step, in how he took in the situation. This was the simple stuff; his shoulders were rolled back, his back straight, his breathing steady. He pushed the front door of the building, letting it open a bit too hard and slam against the wall inside. Instantly the people inside were hostile, hands hovering above, or readying weapons. More than one pistol was aimed at the ground in preparation of a fight. When Zach extended his baton, they responded by raising their weapons and shouting commands. "Drop your weapon", "The fuck are you thinking?", "Who the hell are you?", Why couldn't they ever have creative responses to his presence.

He moved towards a large group of the thugs, shifting to a sprint once he was close enough. Their inability to use guns was broken all at once as a shot rang out, then three more. His power stopped one, the two other bullets too far off course to hit him. He reached a man who was steadying his pistol. Zach didn't hear the bang, his power blocking it off in anticipation, and didn't even see the bullet as it was deflected off to the right side. His baton came down hard just above the man's ribs, eliciting a yelp of pain. He hit the ground hard, and Zach hit him again in the shoulder, seeing it instantly turn red with a small amount of blood looking from it. This was going to be a long fight.
Decoy, my man~

The HUD inside the PRT's vehicle had a slight delay. Ira had been staring at it since they had set off, and had noticed it once they had gone over a bump. The camera was late in displaying that, and had to take a fraction of a second to refocus. From there Ira had kept her eyes locked onto the display, watching the path they were taking. It was a bit disorientating to feel the vehicle turn on a busy intersection, and have the camera not display that acceleration immediately. The display showed the vehicle turning onto a less populated, poorly maintained street, and Ira-er-Epsilon refocused. She traced her eyes across everyone present, taking each of them in as a whole, and trying to judge their body language. Epsilon wasn't very good at it, and so got very little information. Her team members just seemed generally tense, all in their unique ways.

The young tinker shifted from leaning forward on her knees to leaning back, but felt the metal of her nullification device hit the wall behind her. It was bulky, and had changed quite a bit since its first inception. What had once been a suitcase was now spherical, and awkward shape to pack, but great for keeping a high ratio of volume to surface area. On the top it had a small handle molded into it that it could be carried with. It had a longer battery life, though the distance hadn't been changed. Decoy had insisted on a remote tracking device and satellite controls built in, which Epsilon had immediately agreed to. It was near impossible to hijack the device, for after three minutes without access to a satellite it would shut off. All of that had been the easy part.

Epsilon sighed, going back to leaning forward as the vehicle came to a stop, her eyes focused on the floor. Some unknown signal from those around her caused Epsilon to glance up at the HUD. As she did, a man ran through a door with a smaller individual on his shoulders. Parahumans. The tinker's mind raced, recalling the news from the last month or so. It was a mover-or stranger-or brute-or breaker. It could be a lot of things, actually. Ira defaulted to Stranger breaker, and extrapolated. It seemed really inconvenient to carry someone on your shoulders like that, so either the girl had a very strong power that facilitated her entry, or she was the one with the stranger breaker powerset. At least, that was her first impression. Gunshots sounded from within the building, breaking Epsilon out of her spell. She had been sitting farthest from the door, and she moved now a bit late as the rest (sans Tulpa) exited the vehicle.

Tiger Lily had run off already, and a worried look crossed Epsilons face beneath her mask. That girl was very reckless, and it twisted Epsilon's stomach a bit. The masked crusader listened to the information provided by Tulpa, nodding to herself as she surveyed the outside of the building. She unclipped the goggles strapped to her belt, positioning them over her mask's eye slits, and 'enjoyed' them even further restrict her vision. She scouted again, the digital interface reminding her of the van's HUD. Tiger Lily popped up green as she crested the building, and the harsh green of those close to her distracted her a bit. Everyone started moving out of sync, Margrave talking to Overlook, who's voice elicited a pang of regret in the back of Epsilon's mind. She shook her head, her hands brushing against her white mask's hard exterior as she removed the goggles, reattaching them to her belt, Tiger Lily and Messiah had immediately separated, leaving Epsilon to decide who to follow, or if she wanted to further break the plan. Thinking quickly, she motioned to the lieutenant set to stick with her to follow.

She walked up to the door that the bulky man and young girl had gone through. First she tested it, pressing her hand against it to see if it would allow her to pass through as well. No luck. Next she undid the leather strap holding her pistol down in its holster, pulling the gun (loaded with nonlethal animation) into a safe-but-active position pointed at the ground. Epsilon motioned with her head at the door, the second time more exaggerated. She wanted him to open it. He hesitated momentarily before nodding, approaching and kicking the door directly above the handle. As the door fell inward he shifted to be on the opposite side of Epsilon while she took up a modified weaver stance, her gun pointed at the inside of the building. "Immediate area around the door two of the unidentified para's entered from is clear." She spoke, moving to safety before fumbling with the device on her back. "Activating nullification field in T-minus five, She said quickly, flipping the activation timer. She didn't actually know what T-minus was supposed to mean, but it sounded right.

Epsilon moved her entire head to focus on the soldier. He looked back at her, constantly studying her it seemed. She mouthed the words "Two. One before moving forward, the nullification field blossoming out around her. Those teammates within range would feel it wrap around them, snuffing out their connection to their passenger. He followed close behind, making use of his height along with the fact that she was crouching down slightly to give him a better angle. The rifle he was holding whipped off to the right side as she cleared the left. She was thankful that it was a small alcove, the various shelves and boxes forming a blind spot around them from everything but the catwalk high above. She glanced up, scanning quickly for any threats, as the Lieutenant went about the business of making sure they were completely safe from surprise assaults.

Zach Kozel:
Strip Mall

@Gardevoiran@Spiffy@Xandrya

Zach sat, hunched over the counter, his eyes glued to his hands. He felt like he was stuck in a loop, not able to move past the spiral his mind had entered into. Troll was no joke, and despite Judah being an empath, he was quite shitty at comforting people. Zach statement about the girl being alive had been more to reassure himself than anyone else, and now he was trying to consider the fact that three people may have died because of his actions, or lack thereof. A rapping on the windows elicited a small head movement from Zach, and he slowly stood as Judah entered. He eyed the dog, SpFrarce, and the newcomer as they entered, before moving to follow without question. He seemed even more separated from reality than normal as he climbed into Judah's vehicle. He finally noticed his phone vibrating, and checked it to see the missed text from the twins.

Within a few minutes they had arrived, Zach not one for considering his actions nodded in response to the words Judah said, without absorbing any of it. His emotions were so tangled together, he would be very hard to read with or without powers. Zach climbed out of the vehicle a couple beats late, as the new girl asked if they were prepared. He nodded in response, actually considering those words. Without a mask, he removed the baton attached to his belt and flicked it outward. He mouthed let's go and began walking towards the building indicated by his teammates body language.
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