SHORT VERSION - If you don't want to read 2 million words, which is fair enough. Here is a quick run down. If you do want to read all that shit by me (I guess its ok writing) then don't open the first spoiler tab cause it's... spoilery. When you're done reading the long version, if you do read it, read the spoiler tab because it makes everything quick and easy, puts things in nice boxes so that you can process anything you might've missed in the long version.
So the Angels pulled up to this warehouse to kill a bunch of Juarez Cartel bosses. They get there and its all abandoned wtf is going on and oh shit it's an ambush big shocker I know. All the cartel bosses are there but OH WAIT, they got smoked by the Sicario 21. Tf is going on here? You're characters don't know about that though because the only survivor from team #4 is my dude Henry and he didn't get teleported out, he got launched into a neighboring building lol, hurray speed quirks! But yeah back on track. So big explosion happens, motherfuckers get CLAPPED. Thomas Pickard dies saving Rebecca, then The Hand of God shows up and starts dancing on motherfuckers. He takes out Marcus "Splitter", Diana Koen gets sent to the shadow realm, and then he smokes Rebecca because fuck your leadership cuz. Some nameless goons get taken out but they're nameless goons so whatever. Yall lucky motherfuckers get teleported out though by Angelica, she's cool but sucks with her quirk, if she wasnt so trash with it she'd have saved Rebecca, but whatever. If you don't know these names read the "Allied NPC" doc in lore please! So yeah out of 40 who went on the mission, 22 came back. You don't need to write it that your character was on the mission, they can be one of the people who stayed at the base. Or not! You choose. Your characters are located in the central pavilion of floor one right now. Feel free to go wherever you'd like.
Oh and yeah, leadership is all dead or missing because fuck knows where Q is. There's a solid chance that there's a mole so maybe DH isn't the safest place. A list of potential next steps will be on discord. In future episodes I'm not going to provide such obvious options but to give you guys an idea of how this works I will for this arch.
Dark Haven | Episode 1 "Prologue"
Setting 12:30 AM. A warehouse in Juarez Mexico, just across the boarder from El Paso Texas
Four vans stop on a dime, silent as night and painted to match. Each carries ten Angels, total of forty to kill ten high crime lords of the Juarez Cartel. With each on a different face they cannot see their twin units, yet their actions synchronize, stacking onto each entrance with practiced harmony. For a moment there is a pause, three seconds to be exact and then the time comes. Some think prayers of protection, others cast a glance to close comrades for reassurance, and few yet focus deep within and a rare few truly thirst for the fight. Whatever the emotion it melts away at the strike of 12:30:30, and with the bell's toll the four teams breach, ready to take down anyone in their path.
But no one is there.
Scanning crate rows and high shelves, teams One through Three look for opposition, but all is quiet on the shop floor. Across the building with Team Four it's more of the same, finding nothing on level one of the office segment. As Team Four heads up through a stairwell, One through Three collapse in, coming to meet in the center of the warehouse room. Having found nothing they form a tight perimeter, protecting the office section of the building from collapsing enemies, if any were to arrive. Some among the three centurion squads glance at their fellows, wondering what was going on, nervous in the uncertainty, and such thoughts weren't reserved for lower ranks, all felt unease. Here was this compound, where high ranking gangsters were supposed to meet, yet security was non-existent. Either it was a trap, or bad information and worse still was that it could be both. All anyone could do was wait for #4 to clear the office.
Heading up the staircase Henry Gale moves third in line behind Rebecca Pine and Thomas Pickard, second and third commanders of the DH Angels. In the dark heat Henry sweats from his palms, ragged breath rolling from his lips, his heart pounding with anxiety. Wondering of his fate he thinks to run, but the surprising touch of Maria's hand on his shoulder holds him in check.
"Thanks" he mutters, turning head to his rear guard, drawing ire from the man at his front, one conveying the charged message of "Shut the hell up or I'll kill you myself". Henry couldn't argue, this wasn't the time to talk, it was time to focus up, doubly so because the squad was now entering the main hallway of floor three, the end of which was the conference room where the Cartel bosses were supposed to be.
Like a river of black ink the tactical outfit moves with cat-like quiet to the conference room's double doors, and stacking up again they exchange looks, then a nod, acknowledging that this was the moment of truth. Rebecca on the left and Thomas on the right, the two kick open their half of the double doors, and with splinters still airborne the ten men and women fire blindly into the darkness, not taking any chances. 310 bullets and ten empty clips later the group collectively sighs, it was a dead lead. The room was quiet, they'd come all this way just to waste bullets on office furniture, at least everyone would get home safe.
And then the lights turn on.
Approaching from the side, protected from the frontal assault by a tight angle walks the notorious villain "Warhead". Member of the Sicario 21's "Seven Soldado", or the Seven Soldiers. Beside where he walks sit the ten bosses of the Juarez Cartel, some of the most powerful and dangerous men on earth.
Well, at least they used to be.
For all ten were dead, and not from bullet wounds. Despite the freshly inflicted hits, it was obvious that they'd been dead for a time. Tint blue skin and slit throats a dead giveaway. It was shocking, defying expectation, logic, what was known and what they thought possible. That the bosses of the Juarez Cartel had been killed by a Sicario? Unheard of and impossible to believe, but there it was, staring Team Four in the face. A litany of questions demanded answer, and Rebecca was eager to ask.
"I take it you're the leak, where we've been getting information on the Juarez Cartel? We owe you a debt Warhead. If you want out of the Sicario, we can help you?" she offers, held back from stepping forward by the outstretched arm of a highly suspicious Pickard, eyes burning into the dangerous villain who approaches the group, confident malice in his slow step. Stopping but a few feet from the ten he leans forward, whispering cryptically - -
"When you meet God, ask him why he is of Fire and Brimstone"
As the last word leaves his lips, the Angels press their triggers, only to click dry, their magazines expended. A rookie mistake, one that would prove fatal. Turning to Henry, Rebecca screams an elongated "RUUUUUN" as Thomas Pickard wraps her in a protective grasp, his hardening quirk already activated. As Gale turns, his speed quirk carrying him down the hallway in a flash, a blast long overcharged erupts from Warhead's body, rippling through the building. As Thomas' body flies through air like a missile through now shattered walls, slamming down onto the warehouse floor, Henry is ejected from the window at hallway's end, tossed into a neighboring building, knocked out but alive. Of the other seven on Team Four, all die immediately, incinerated and twisted beyond recognition in the blink of an eye, at least it was quick.
Standing from the grasp of her dead fiance, Rebecca stands with tears streaming down her face, blood running from the mouth, right arm clutching at shattered ribs. Stumbling to the three remaining teams she manages to say "Ambush... Warhead... It was a trap", collapsing to a knee from the strain before two Angels rush to her side, lifting her from the ground by the shoulders, bringing her back through the line. "Angelica, Angelica, set up... Set a rift... NOW" commands the woman, looking to a dark haired girl of pale skin, her quirk dimensional rift generation, used for teleportation in most cases.
"Okay... I'll try to - -
"DO IT NOW" yells Pine, cutting off the girl's half willed response, her lip trembling, mind overloading with emotion, the only thing keeping her sane being the lives of her fellows and the new mission, to survive.
But survival is a luxury, a thought echoed by several among the group, some taking unsure steps backwards, their bulging eyes focused on a shadow descending from the ruins. One known by all as The Hand Of God. Reacting immediately to the threat, every man and woman capable opens fire with weapon or quirk, sending a hail of bullets, flame, ice, water, electricity, acid, rubble anything to take down the enemy. Yet nothing connects, his stoic forward pace unperturbed by the assault.
"He can't be stopped"
"Not like this.. Not like this"
Come the fearful words of some Angels, trembling at the sight of the Hand, the ace Sicario. A man undefeated after a thousand battles. The doomsayer of all opposition.
"I'll hold him off" blurts Splitter, nervous as could be expected, voice shaking as Angelica focuses on her rift. Stepping forward the clone creator extends his hands, creating three dozen versions of himself, each holding a pair of combat knives. Collapsing in on the enemy they swing and swing and attack savagely, hoping to score a mark but the power of the Hand is too great. With each attack he shifts, teleporting around and through, phasing by and into the clones, cutting them down like a child snuffing out an ant colony. His blade-work is expert, a sniper with a sword, each strike hitting a vital spot in a flash, the speed too great to perceive, and all the while attacks hitting him pass through like a bullet in the smoke. Stepping back Splitter tries once more, re-enforcing numbers with a fresh batch but the Sicario has none of it, appearing at Marcus' side, his knife cutting through the base of Splitter's neck. As Marcus falls several others charge in, maybe out of panic, or courage, maybe stupidity... who knows, all die the same.
And then Diana Koen answers the call.
"Idiots" mutters the Terran Esper, one of the strongest soldiers among the Angels. Stepping forward she rolls her sleeves up, emitting an unnatural yellow glow from her arms. As she does, the very concrete at the Hand's feet rises up into a tornado, it's scale grand and deadly, reaching the forty foot ceiling above. Seeing no escape, Diana collapses the rubble down towards the ground with the force of a comet, compacting it into a tight ball that would kill any normal human. Not satisfied she crushes it further, and again and again, continuing until the wide debris field is but a small, super dense sphere.
"Hand of God my as - -
She begins, cut off by a blade sticking through the back of her head. Untouched, the hand wipes the blade clean as he removes it from the woman's skull, the sound of her body slumping to the floor the only thing breaking the now deathly silence. Stepping forward again with slow, methodical purpose, the hand nears the rift builder, the only hope for escape. Seeing the end, several Angels collapse, given to death.
"Angie you have to set the rift! You have to set the rift right now Angie! YOU HAVE TO RIGHT NOW!" yells Pine, kneeling in front of Angelica who's trembling hands held but an infant shatter-point.
"I CANT!" she responds.
"YOU HAVE TO!" counters Rebecca.
"I NEED TIME!"
"WE DON'T HAVE ANY"
"I'm so sorry... I'm... S-So sorry" stutters Angelica through the tears, her quiet words painting failure. It was over. She knew it, and now Rebecca knew it too.
"It's okay" answers the second in command, accepting Angie's limitations in a sudden shift, preferring love in her final moments. As the blade connects with Rebecca's neck, severing head from shoulders, Angelica's rift explodes, coming to life dramatically, saving the 22 remaining Angels with a dimensional break, a segment of reality no longer attached the the rest. A 20x20 cube of space removed from the warehouse, teleported outside the DH base, spiriting away the lucky winners of the coin toss.
Stepping from the literal block of concrete, shelves and boxes transported to the field outside the DH warehouse, the shell shocked group makes their way inside and goes down the hidden lift. The injured are swiftly take to the infirmary and the people at the base gather around the returning warriors to talk about what the actual fuck just happened. Oh and bonus feature, Q left earlier on the day and no one knows where he is! Extra fun because now there is no one there who is rated as a leader, so the decision on what to do next is up to your characters! Not everyone's character needs to have been on the mission. Some can be people who were on base, or who have just returned from another mission, or even a trip to the store btw. Not everyone wants to write shell shock after all. I will list potential decisions on the discord, moving forward I will try not doing that, so that the decisions can be made by players without my OOC influence, but for the first arch I think it will be helpful.
Francine Towers "Teal Dear"
Tags: @All (Open) Location: DH Elevator
The heavy scent of whiskey and smoke fills the internal area of the base as Francine casually appears to be packing up her equipment into a large worn duffel bag, even after her time at the group she still travelled relatively light with the majority of the bag seemingly have already been packed with only a few items of personal effect thrown on top. It didn't take a genius to figure out what had happened in either case and she did always like to be prepared, the entire everything you want in one spot that shows up after a campaign in the area just screamed set up to her, that innate wisdom and gut feelings are what had kept her alive for so long after all. She had voiced up her little concern during the mass planning the group went on, all professional but heck she could tell once something went wrong they were going to be like headless chickens scrambling from a coyote but then again yeah might point out the road but some people are always gonna try head north for Texas. Though in the end it was probably worth checking in with the sorry souls one last time before she moseys on out to her next location, as the chances of this place being the next target on the list was a little to close for her liking and she liked to pick fights on her own terms, so heaving the bug out bag over her back she heads out.
Arriving at the elevator the woman notices it starting to descend down the floors and takes a deep puff of her cigar before going to rest a hand at her hip, either this was the wounded returning home or it was a welcoming party ahead of schedule, either ways her eyes remain locked on the doors and listening, fingers stroking the grip in their holster. Part of her was tempted just to take the stairs but then again those would be watched if it was the worst case, so instead, she just had time to think out her next plan, She could head out to one of the safe houses, her personal ones as the DH ones might be compromised and be the next port of call, she could go take this fight onto their own home turf in some more guerilla-style fashions, or heck maybe just send a message and go ghost in general...well the choice could wait for now.
Location: DH Angels HQ
Interacting with: Everyone in the room @Avi-Sina
Rayner’s hand had smashed against the wall, bruising his hand but without drawing blood. He was run down enough, covered in light scratches, dirt and allied blood all around. During the fight, if that massacre could even be called that, he had been nothing more than a helpless viewer. He had lost valuable partners countless times before, but it never really got any easier. Even Splitter and Diana had hit the bucket and he thought them nothing short of invincible. What if he had joined the body count then? What would have happened to her?
Keep it together, Rayner, you’re supposed to be one of the veterans here.With flashes of the fight still going through his mind, he reached out for his pockets with shaky hands and, after a few anxious flicks, managed to lit his cigar. After a hearty puff, his expression softened a bit, but he was still concerned. He looked around to try and find some familiar face. While he did that, he said:
“They played us like a damn fiddle! How… How did they know? How much do they know about us?” After a brief pause for another smoke, he added: “Looks like we can’t rely on boss for this one. If anyone feels like they still got the nerve to speak, let’s talk options.” He would let the others speak first. On his part, his mind was still drawing a blank.
The Masked Woman known only as Rive fumes as she finally catches up with the mysterious attacker, slicing cleanly only to be yanked from the scene at the last moment and out into the wide open field with a good section of the stone cube now slowly sliding away before falling with a crash. Their hands are clenched tightly close to her face before they start to kick whatever is in site while one can only assume expressing their displeasure in thick cajuan french, the tone making their opinion on the entire situation fairly clear. She did not seem to actually have any real damage to their costume other than the layers of dust and scuffs from debris but not from lack of trying, she had spent the entire time actually trying to get close to the agressers with the disorganised mess and flurry of attacks not allowing her to get close less she be struck by her allies and the one times she thought she had the mass of dust and smoke in the area from said attacks vastly reducing her ability to even see the target.
By the time the elevator reaches the bottom floor and after several new dents have been added to the elevators wall she appears to have finally calmed down to put it lightly, in fact her entire body language and posture has relaxed become for more refined and delicate from the smallest of gestures. With a slow breath she finally speaks in a gente and soft tone through the modulated mask "They knew precisely when and where we were coming from and laid the bait quite well....." a short glance to the Texan Cowgirl had her brow furrow, the look of *I told you so* clear on her features through the smile, sitting back and looking to their watch as they seem to have decided to give the group a few more minutes before they leave the HQ.
"That being said, I think the leadership has left much to be desired in our organisation once things got hectic...while i would like to assume some quirk related explanation somethign tells me there was more at play. Though as for why...my first thought would be a power play and hostile takeover within the criminal groups, and choosing to use the opportunity to remove additional areas of conern" Going to sit down and crossing a leg as her fingers intertwine and fold neatly on her lap. They glance throughout the other gathered members of the room as their mind slowly go sorts through events and the information available "Now if there was perhaps a leak to explain the trap, it would be best to establish the extent as we may need to refine our secret base, as simply our base...similarly so with the various safe houses, known identitys and other resources"
Location: Floor One, El Paso warehouse. Time: After Midnight. Interactions: @Capt_Deuce, open. Also self apparently.
With midnight way after, Avila was definitely missing out on some beauty sleep. Still, the current situation was a bit of a play on the nerves. What if something happens? That would be bad. That was the thought process as she scanned around the industrial walls. She was sitting on a short, plasticky chair facing the main elevator shaft, waiting for anything. Looking up at the ceiling, there was also another figure present. Somehow hanging down from the ceiling like a bat was Eloise, someone who Avila had not talked to before, really. Just... hanging there and widely smiling.
"What a weirdo... huh?"
Spending some more time tapping at the walls nervously, Avila waited on, up until the elevator started to rumble. Standing in front of it was another person, but they were soon overshadowed by the hail of about twenty people uneasily making their way trough. They could've been likened to a shower even, bursting out and making way for anywhere, but mostly the infirmary.
This left the girl overwhelmed with emotion, looking around for anyone she might recognise. Sure, the mission would obviously be dangerous, heading straight for the cartel, but where was the leadership, anyone? There was a lot of wounds, but predominantly shock. As things numbed down just a tiny bit, Avila took notice of a familiar voice, clearly agitated in some way or the other. With some eye work, she sourced the voice to Rayner, bruised and all bloody. Considering the options would really be important, seeing as the mission clearly had catastrophic results, along with... information leaks? For all intents and purposes, thinking needed to be quick.
Avila spoke out aloud, briskly pacing over to Ray, eyeing him as well as she could.
"First we should assess the damage, right? The severity, losses? You okay? We can't make any big moves if half of us are laying in the infirmary, can we?"
Even if she wasn't one of the immediately affected, this was pretty stressful.
"No matter what, it's our comrades that matter, so let's act accordingly to that, okay?"
This last statement was first and foremost directed at the man in front of her. Surely enough, there's no revolution without revolutionaries.
Location: DH angels HQ Interactions: @Karcen , open “Damn it...”
Rei whispered with a shivering, almost faded voice as he slowly walked towards the lift, gripping his left arm. Pictures of that horrible fight crawled into his mind, as he saw himself trapped in a huge pile of flying debris, which scratched him all over his body. He also was knocked down by a heavy rock that hit him right in his arm, all while trying to rush down on that hand of god. luckily, he managed to return back with the others.
He crept out of the lift and into the first floor with blood dripping behind him, and marched towards the room where he overheard Rive ranting about the information leak. Too overwhelmed by his own injuries, all Rei did was continue his dead walk towards the nurse
“That mission was nothing but a... death wish” He says while walking into the infirmary “Lend me a hand here”
Ricky did not remember much from the raid when he arrived out the rift, his memory had been blacked. The last thing he could recall was being straddled on his friend, Igor's shoulders before being thrown into the rift. A sticky substance dripped down Ricky's arms, he unraveled his sleeves to discover it was a bleeding wound. Ricardo began looking around base, trying to piece together the experience. He remembers something grazing him across the shoulder and Igor coming to his rescue. Ricky makes eye contact with the members returned to the base, he could not find his friend, Igor, anywhere and the realization set. The carnage and fear flashed before his eyes, heads being dismembered and all the screaming and yelling, Igor yanking him onto his shoulder after something had grazed his shoulder. If Igor was not here now, he had died trying to save him. Ricky wanted to cry, but his eyes remained still, he was far too tired.
Igor had been the first member he had met when he joined the angels, the one who coached him on missions, it was hard to believe him and so many others were dead. All the fond memories replaced with the awful event. Ricky placed his head down on the ground, he had lost some blood, but he was not in any emergency at the moment.
It took all his strength to bring his shoulders up when Felicitas began to speak up. He wanted to object, he wanted to return to the warehouse and avenge everyone who had fallen, his rage had brought life into the boy, almost mustering the nerve the speak but he bit his tongue. Ricky did not like it, but she was right that they needed to recuperate and plan later. His mind was hazy, his emotions clustered and incoherent. He wanted someone to tell him how to feel. Ricky simply nodded to Felicitas with a frown, using a spare arm to cover his wound. Igor had given him a second wind, he could not just throw it away.
Jac had been debating running away, maybe she could get some kind of deal if she sold out this group told law enforcement all about it, she could go back to her normal life and no longer have to constantly use pain killers to try to dull the pain of healing people. Jac really had never planned to join these people anyways and felt she had been kidnapped and was being blackmailed into helping them. She hated that she had to stay here and work for these people who were the very reason she had a criminal record she was just going spend a night in jail, the ultimate slap on the wrist for what she did and instead of going back to normal life she was now endlessly suffering the pain of others because they always got hurt and no one seemed to try to stop themselves from getting the worst injuries they could without getting killed, and some even got killed and she had to fix them all.
Jac had not been given the time to really debate her desired run for freedom as someone found her and dragged her to the infirmary as people started coming in from the mission gone wrong. Jac could still try to run away while everyone was distracted, she didn't have to help any of these people as they were all technically criminals, but well it was hard to say no to someone in pain and many would without a doubt end up dead. Jac really didn't want to help them as they were all her jailers in a way, yet who could run away while people are suffering and you can help them. Jac wanted to just just and yet she couldn't she was trapped her because she had to help people, she had to much sympathy and Stockholm syndrome was a thing and to her was likely affecting her. After so long here Jac knew exactly where the pain killers where and knew exactly which were the strongest and fastest acting. Jac likely by this time had a minor addiction at least to these pain killers as when she swallowed down the pills and they started their effects she felt a shiver run down her spine and she started to feel a little better and every so slightly floaty.
Jac had just let the drugs take full effect when Rei showed up one of his arms hurt, maybe it was broken, just great those always hurt, but at least she had plenty of pills to kill the pain so she could feel floaty. Well a broken bone or two would likely not be the worst thing she would feel today. Without a word she grabbed, Rei's arm, pain ran through her arm, the same arm that Rei had been injured on and she could feel even with the powerful numbing effect a fraction of the pain her had felt as rapidly bones moved back into place and re knit themselves, flesh pushed itself together and sealed without leaving a scar. In mere moments an injury that would take weeks if not months to heal was no more and slowly the pain in Jac's arm would turn into a dull throbbing.
"There all healed now i have a lot more to do... why can't people not get hurt" She complained her voice not seeming all there thanks to the drugs already making her a little loopy.
The dimensional rift had cut a neat slice out of the building like an undercooked cake, then dropped that slice unceremoniously into the dust. The still night air gave a sigh, the kind of sound made by an extra 8 million litres' worth of matter suddenly blinking into existence.
And tangled up in it all were twenty-two survivors. Bruised, bleeding and covered in concrete dust (and, in some cases, concrete), few words were spoken as they limped solemnly back to the base, trying not to think about what they'd seen.
At least one of those among them was smiling.
Not smiling out of choice or habit, but because that was the design painted onto the cracked and scratched mask attached to where its face ought to be. Talos was not even limping, though he was missing half of his right arm, having been caught just on the edge of the teleport. The metal had been cut through sharply, a perfectly straight line down to the very atoms. He'd reached back to grab something to reshape, and didn't realise that he'd barely been close enough for the transfer until he'd found himself sitting underneath a heavy section of Juarez Cartel wall that had been spirited along with him. The weight of it had made his skull ring like a bell, but his body was tall and sturdy enough to keep it from crushing a few of his closer allies.
Once the shock had worn off, the chaos kicked in, and by the time the elevator's doors opened on its precious cargo the place was abuzz. People were shouting, or wailing, or punching walls, or standing there like ghosts, saying nothing at all.
From the looks of it, Rayner and Rive were already ranting and raving, trying to figure out where the plan had gone wrong. Avila was chiding them.
"She's right. Those of us who saw what happened to the others will not be capable of sensible judgement," Talos pointed out, unasked as always. "Grief and anger should not cloud any plans we make. Let's talk without forgetting that."
His own thoughts were too fast, tumbling over each other in a bid to make themselves known, trying to piece together what exactly had happened. That was more worrisome than the deaths, although there was no doubt that the loss of such prominent figures would throw a spanner into the works. Besides, he had liked Rebecca. She was clever, but sensible. The sort of person they needed, now that she was dead.
Nanami Quinn Location: Dark Haven HQ Interaction:@Capt_Deuce@PlusUltra@Avi-Sina@Blemmigan Mention:@Karcen@Castello
There were many reactions to facing down death: anger, denial, sadness were but a few. That day, as she watched her seniors fall, her allies grow more desperate, and the nigh unstoppable form of the Hand approaching, Nanami relinquished the outcome to the whims of fate. Clasping both sets of her hands together, Nanami congratulated herself for servicing the Hive to such an extent. There were no words for how proud of herself she felt at that very moment, thinking to the smiles of her hive-mates once they heard of the sacrifice she'd made for them. At that very moment, with the shadow of death approaching her and the rest of the angels, she felt as if she was the only one capable of smiling.
That smile stayed plastered on her face throughout the rapidly deteriorating situation, remaining as unflinching as her devotion, until Angie seemed to get her stuff together. Soon they were standing before their base, the threat of danger gone so suddenly that some seemed more frightened than before. Eventually, the realization that they'd eluded utter annihilation soon spread amongst the crowd, and even Nanami reached up to rub at her antennae. Her ever present smile spread a bit wider, for it seemed she would still get to serve the Hive even more.
The overwhelming despair hung over the survivors like a cloud, following them down into the heart of Dark Haven. Once the elevator doors opened, that cloud seemed to spread to the other angels who were waiting for them. The sheer density of this cloud made Nanami's smile dimmer, they couldn't be productive like this. They needed to rebuild and reorganize if they were to keep doing their work and fulfilling the wishes of the Hive. Nanami immediately started thinking, what could possibly raise morale after such a colossal blow such as this? Getting revenge on the Sicario seemed to be the best solution, but that would have to come later. As they were now, they'd probably wind up incurring more losses.
Luckily, it seems she wasn't the only one thinking ahead. Rayner propositioned everyone for ideas on what to do next. Rive was quick to note the possibility of a leak and began suggesting ways to counter its effects. Then Avila pointed out that recovering from the battle would have to be first on their to-do list. The thing was, they were both correct. Nanami grew more giddy as ideas were thrown out, tapping her shoe-tips against the floor as she thought back to that ill-fated mission. She was never near most of the fighting, as her Quirk especially was more suited towards stealth than out and out combat. This left her list of wounds to scratches, as her exoskeleton had protected her from bruising in many of the places she should've.
As their resident nurse started helping the less fortunate, Talos threw in their two cents as well.
"Such marvelous ideas!" Nanami cheered while giving them an applause with her four hands "With such well-minded people still around, there is no doubt that catching our breath shall not take long."
She reached up and began idly doing her hair "So many comrades are already terrified or angry, we must restore their faith to keep them from crumbling under the pressure. If only we could round up some stand-in leaders until we have determined the location of Q! Oh wait..."
Stopping her hair styling, Nanami gently patted her antennae before smiling wide again "We can!" she declared before leaning towards them "And I don't know about you, but you guys are looking pretty dependable right about now~!"
Running into the main pavilion from the training center, Shay Florence grits her teeth. "One, two, three, four, five....." thinks the athlete, her heart sinking as the head count tops at twenty two. Making matters worse, both Rebecca and Thomas were gone, likely dead. "Shit, where's Q? That son of a bitch sent them on a suicide mission and isn't even here to pick up the pieces, ridiculous" she thinks with an exasperated sigh, thinking of the eighteen dead and absent leadership. This was a bad time for such thoughts though, she had to focus on what to do next without telling people what to do. She was just a soldier, middle ranking. Not one to galvanize troops, and if asked she'd abstain, power didn't interest her, but she would add to the discussion if she could.
"Happy you guys made it" she opens, clapping Ricky and Felicitas on the back, large hands landing just a tad too hard. "Keep your eyes up soldier, we aren't out of this fight, not by a long shot" advises the trainer, looking to Ricky with fire in her eyes, feeling his dejection and anger without showing it. She had to be strong, if not only for herself but for those returning from the hunt. "I heard what happened, an ambush like that? The base might be compromised. Khalid is monitoring traffic cams in the War Room, if they come for us we'll know in advance... But who knows if we can fight them off without our field assets here to help. I'm not sure who's next after Tom, but we need to figure out what to do. I've never been one for strategy but tell me where and when and I got your six" concludes the woman, looking from person to person, hoping her words would serve as food for thought and encouragement, whatever that was worth.
The hustle and bustle was getting a little out of hand in the infirmary. There was just so much going on! Thank god they had Jac! Her abilities were useful despite the less than stellar attitude she displayed. "Jac! Jac don't um... Overexert yourself you know! I'll handle all the little things, cuts and scrapes. Oh god I wish I had a quirk like yours... or a quirk at all anyway but um, thanks again for helping out!" he buzzed, floating around Jac and Rei with nervous energy. "You're lucky she's with us kid! That was a nasty wound you had right there" he adds, looking over to Rei with an anxious chuckle. He was scared after all, and it was coming off him in waves. He didn't like the fighters that much but too see so many wounded, and to hear of so many dead.. well that was a lot to bear, and from what he overheard through open infirmary doors the people here might be next on the Sicario's menu. Not good, not good at all! Jason wasn't a hero, he was a doctor, he worked to preserve lives not destroy them, and that included his own, partially worthless one.
While being healed, Rei overheard the voices of the others echoing through the silent rooms. He was glad some people were still thinking logically and straight after such a horrible incident. “You’re right doctor” Rei said as he stood out of his chair, looking at the drowsy jac. He couldn’t feel any pain anymore, as if nothing had happened to him at all. “But I think I might be able to help you with that”. Rei looked around for a scalpel, or anything he could use to get some blood. Once he did, he gently scratched jac’s Palm, licked the blood, and then healed that same scratch off Jac. “You could use some rest” he told her as he looked away to find those who still needed some healing
Rei managed to heal a couple of slight injuries before his quirk faded away, nothing he physically couldn’t handle. Maybe this could help Jac feel feel more comfortable around. Maybe she would have the tiniest of trust towards the DH members; her quirk was really a vital one for the team after all.
“Thinking about our next step already might not be the best thing to do right now” Rei said as he entered the planning room, slowly brushing his hair with his hand. He took a seat, crossed his arms, and then continued “If there really was a leak around here, we better find the source of that first, that’s if we want our next safe step to be actually safe“
Location: Floor One, El Paso warehouse. Time: After Midnight. Interactions: @Blemmigan, open.
Below the surface, uneasiness brew like heresy inside a witch's cauldron, until at last, a violent explosion shook the night. Eloise kept herself hanging head-down from the ceiling through the usage of her quirk, two opposed golden arrows touching tips right below the feet. Across her face stretched a wide, unconcerned smile, unbothered with the masses of frantically breathing flesh congregating inside of the warehouse's central pavilion. It would be wrong to assume that the incident had not affected her poise or composure, the news indeed were troubling, yet alas. This is the danger that outlaws must face. Anyone wishing to change the world must find room, willing or not, for sacrifice. When a wolf attempts to gulp down a bear, it cannot leave unscathed... and so on, and so on.
"Little is the time for allegories," she murmured, flicking up a trail of arrows leading by a wall back to the ground, cascading down it at a wind-lifting speed right after. All of the missing personnel, bloodstains and wounds were rather unimpressive to the pretend-nun. They demonstrated a power much triumphant against their own, something a tiny bit discouraging to someone who has stayed with the organisation for years under the pretence of it being the best option. At the same time, it meant an orchestrated beginning to a grander struggle. A treacherous, violent struggle. At this rumination, Eloise's simper grew three times at least.
Standing as still as a pillar of salt, she carefully considered not only the words that were being thrown about, but also alternative paths and options. There had already been several attempts at consolation, which was welcome. After all, the calmer the sheep, the easier it is for the shepherds to coerce them to an unstray path. However, the herders themselves were nowhere to be found. How deeply, horribly troubling. Ah, her poor, wonderful comrades... would be wholly worthless if caught uncoordinated.
"Our path has been compromised by a calamitous development," Eloise exclaimed towards the crowds from off-away, letting all the prior excitement of her visage wither into playing concern.
"But let us not think of that as an unfair setback, but rather a chance to grow and outdo ourselves. Talos' words mark true, nothing is solved in chaos."
Eloise took some time to properly scan around the room, making sure to truly affirm her previous observations.
"Our next move must be decided as a united flock. For this to occur, perhaps we should look to first appoint a small, temporary leadership?"
"Until better is settled on, we will need someone to act as a listener, concluding the best. Unless, of course, you wish to bring about all to-be decisions through a plebiscite."
Jac was going to be a little out if it for awhile, she wasn't really drowsy but instead she could best be described as having an incomplete out of body sensation. Jac was fully aware but her head it felt like it was lagging behind itself as if it left a bit of itself behind that held her thoughts that caught up to the real head after. She had taken to much that was with out doubt and she she barely felt the cut and didn't explain why she might seem drowsy. She could leave and try to run away she could try for a plea deal or rightfully claim she was kidnapped and held against her will. She didn't do that because people were hurt and she could help, it was that almost instinctive sympathy that tugged at the heart and could not be ignored.
"I am fine just a little high on pain killers" Jac said almost highling as she did "I can help then run off maybe if I find the person I can work I deal " she continued grabbing somone actully having lost a leg and eoncing and hissong in pain before her mind compensated as pain flooded her abd was dulled as the man regret a limb "Maybe they can get me a pardon and I can go home,would be nice to be fear" Jac said the drugs making her overly loose lipped and both aware and not aware of what she was saying.
Rayner met Avila’s concerned eyes and quickly noticed that he himself probably wasn’t the most reassuring of sights. He closed his eyes, completely static except for the flickering light of his cigarette. When he opened his eyes again, he had managed a smile and a calmer look. He took out his bloody overcoat, and shoved off some of the dust from the rest of his body, then said:
“I’ll be fine, thank you. Takes more than that to kill this old man!” He bluffed, his voice still lacking glee or confidence somewhat. He listened to all the other comments and added: “Finding the leak sounds like a solid goal, but” He replied to Rei. “Can we really afford to look out for evidence right now? I say it’s better to keep our plans now on a must-know basis and check anyone for trackers. You can do that, can’t you Talos?” And then to everyone: “At any rate, our wounded men are going to be a huge crutch until Jac and Doc can fix them all. I propose we take those wounded to a safe place outside our network while the bravest ones here set up some fake tracks for the Sicario to follow. It’s my idea, so if it passes I volunteer, of course.”
He didn’t address the idea of a leadership on purpose – proposing himself as a leader only undermined his claim. He didn’t even want to be a leader, after all, but he was amongst the most experienced there and he knew that, if someone didn’t start proposing ideas soon, they might as well start writing their wills.
Amelia was spread out on her bed during the suicide mission. She had decided against going that night, and she wasn’t sure if she regretted it or not. Bloodbaths weren’t her thing. She was more into bathing with rose petals and someone hot thank you. Still the feeling she could of done something to help rose inside of her as she walked from her room. She could feel the angst as she made her way to the area everyone was meeting up. Of course she could understand why since she had lost someone in the battle she cared about too. Diane Koen. Amelia was never close to her, but goddamn was that girl hot. She walked into the room with a smile on her face trying not to let the atmosphere become too heavy.
“If we’re picking leaders Rayner would be a good choice,”she smiled and winked at the older fellow. She wasn’t a new member so she had seen him around a few times, and the male looked like he had a good head on his shoulders. A hot one too. If the group was thinking about moles she had to admit she was probably an easy target. She could look like anyone at anytime, and that wasn’t too trustworthy. She thought for a bit before she decided she wouldn’t bring it up. The girl wasn’t that much of an airhead to want eyes on her. Well.. not eyes looking for answers. With her figure and her revealing clothing options it was obvious she didn’t mind wandering gazes.
Francine Towers "Teal Dear"
Tags: @All (Open) Location: DH Elevator
There was a flicker from her hand for a moment as the elevator doors had opened before it relaxed and instead she just looked them over before helping out the injured to there spot and reuniting with the rest in the central area. So as she had gathered from the com system the team had been half wiped out before a hasty retreat, now they were going to be suspecting each other and that would lead to infighting and the good old blame game. There were at least a few solid heads around, albeit with the flowery talk but it really didn't suit here, better instead she works on diversion and asking the locals a few questions in her unique methods.
"Well if that's the gist of the talks, I reckon its about time ah tipped my hat farewell for now, if its going to be a fight id rather it not be on their terms but if your still standing by time I get settled I might check in again" turning to leave with the gesture, the last time this had happened her entire gang had ended up six feet under and she wasn't about to stick around and risk that again, at least not until they got a firm handle on things and sleeping in a potentially compromised base really didn't sit too well with her. "Besides if I find anything about a mole well, those varments aren't the only ones good at making holes" going to step into the elevator to head topside.
Ring in ears and hammer in head, Henry Gale stands on shaky legs, trying to piece together what had happened. It was all a blur, hard to gather through his concussion but despite the fog he knew enough to mourn, for Team Four was in the dust he inhaled, blown to ash and carbon vapor. Of the others he hadn't a clue and in the moment he didn't care. Most of them were randoms anyway, new blood know nothings with something in their eyes Gale didn't like, maybe it was hope for a better future, a passion for righting the world perhaps? They tilted him the wrong way, they knew nothing of what the world was, nothing at all. Pushing thoughts of friends lost to the back of his mind, Henry steps to the shattered window through which he'd been thrown, scanning the smoldering warehouse for any sign of life and through the smoke he finds it, but not in the form he'd hoped. "SHIT" he bites, the thought accompanied by rapid heart and falling stomach, for beneath the window pane he crouched below strode the #1 Sicario, The Hand of God.
"They're all dead then... they have to be" muses the addict, watching as Warhead follows suit, exiting the building behind his superior Sicario. For a few seconds the two villains stand silent, staring down the road, "but to what? " Henry asks himself, turning eyes down road to a pair of headlights rounding a far corner, a bright neon variety sported by a black SUV, the type you'd see in a Bourne Movie, it's windows tinted dark with brackish paint to match. Coming to a halt before the two villains, the right rear door opens, producing a man of large stature with a face hidden by perspective, his attire formal and his hat wide in brim. What Henry could perceive though, was his deep and commanding voice, one entitled to respect.
"The hare stood under the tree" says the man, retrieving something from his pocket, holding it out in front of the Hand.
"It asked where the apple fell" replies the masked Sicario in a dry whisper, his back straightening.
"But it had already fallen into the rabbit's den" counters the man in black, returning the object to his pocket.
With that immensely confusing scene out of the way, The Hand of God walks like a dejected child to the back of the SUV, entering into the vehicle where the MIB had come.
"You kill them all?" asks the apparent leader, turning to Warhead.
"Maybe half" he replies, pulling on a freshly lit cigarette.
"We hoped for more" states MIB.
"Circumstance is a bitch"
"Fair enough" the man says with a chuckle.
"What's next?" asks the villain, exhaling a large cloud of smoke.
"There's a bounty on their heads, a million per, and the ten have been sent across the boarder"
"Relying on hunters? Sending the ten? That's a weak opener."
"Our assets have assured us that that will be enough, you should trust us more... Stephan"
"Keep that name out of your mouth!"
"You remember the last one?" asks the imposing man, stepping towards a wilting Warhead, shifting stance unsure under newfound pressure.
"Fine fine, your point is made. Call me when you need me, once the trash sorts itself out you'll need the seven" relents the villain with a sigh, flicking his cigarette to the side and walking off into the night without pleasantry. A harsh laugh on his lips the man turns back to the SUV, snuffing out the cigarette with his boot, returning to the car that, like Warhead before, would melt into the dark depths of nighttime Juarez with the sound of crunching gravel.
Fast Forward through Several Minutesof Henry Gale running at a couple hundred miles per hour, and jumping over the boarder fence.
Standing outside of the DH base, Henry begins to tremble, not out of fear or mourning but of a need. He needed his medicine after using his quirk so aggressively. His nervous system was overloaded, it needed a boost, an amphetamine one. Reaching into his pocket Gale withdraws a small vile of the devils powder, and with a tap he shifts some onto the side of his hand. Snorting aggressively he inhales it in one go, and just like that he's back, fully functioning as he walks into the warehouse.
@PlusUltra (once your character pops up out of the elevator I'll have Henry go down, just to make everything add up)
He considered Eloise and Amelia's words on Rayner while Francine left, and for all appearances was just standing motionless and smiling before he suddenly spoke up. "He puts progress ahead of his own personal safety, which is useful." Or the man at least appeared to. Perhaps none of them should trust each other completely, but as far as Talos was concerned, that only translated to a healthy level of suspicion while continuing as normal. If the group fell apart due to carelessness, then the survivors would have to leave, but that was only an inconvenience. After all, the deaths had already begun. Too little trust would freeze them all, while they were picked off one by one.
"Finding any trackers depends on precisely what the Sicario might be using. I'll search for what I can, but don't talk about your plan to help the wounded here until the source has been found," he told the potential leader, the artificial voice lending a tone that was more like an order than advice.
Somehow Talos doubted that the base had been bugged, or that it would be anything as simple as that. It could be something quirk-related that wouldn't be easily picked up. Perhaps something organic. Perhaps listening through portals. But what made the most sense was for them to use a mole, simply because of how easily a small, intense team built affection and trust. It was one of the nicer things about humanity, the complete willingness to form groups in the face of common sense, particularly with those who appeared friendly in return.
Despite those doubts, he fully intended to keep his word, and use his quirk to search for any abandoned technology the best he could. He would need spare parts to fix his arm, so building a couple of automatons to explore the place fully was not too much additional trouble. Even if he found nothing, it might help to calm everyone down. Suspicion may be healthy, but hysteria was annoying at best.
Francine Towers "Teal Dear"
Tags:@Jet Location: DH Elevator
Staying on aware as she finally emerges into surface warehouse she raises an eye at the sight of Henry wandering forward, giving her usual smile while her eyes cautiously check him over and taking another long puff from the cigar in her mouth, from what she had heard he was supposed to have been blown up by the Warhead fella and yet he was obviously in far too few pieces for that to be the case...heck the biggest concern was simply exhaustion, quirk overuse and that telltale pupil dilation showing hes been a bit naughty. Then again she needed to be careful this wasn't a trap, standing there for a few moments as her hand rests idly by her side yet as always ready to move if need be.
His presence didl raise the concern of why he was the late arrival and relatively unharmed, some would suspect a deal or mole like before but there was only one way of finding that out and it involved a minor gamble. Extracting notebook from one of her pockets she quickly scribbles down a few words regarding the presence of a leak, to destroy the note after reading and not to inform others, and if he finds anything to meet them at a safe house of her own. She would have spoken them but hey no telling who can overhear on the security systems. Now if he was a leak that location would be compromised, but if it was compromised then she would know the mole, and if it wasn't? well, one less person to suspect. Folding it and extending it between her fingers she finally starts to speak "Well partner seems you certainly had a bit of a fun night, awfully lucky of ya to be here now...seems your missing bit of the party down below in any case. Then again i hear these parts might not be safe any more" blowing out smoke as she speaks, keeping her gaze on his features.
Ricky snapped back to a calm state when Shay's hand reached his shoulders. He could not be like this for long, the group had no time for moping about the already dead. They would have to move on, one way or another. Ricky let out a sigh, raising to his feet. He offered Shay a brief smile, another one directed towards the other latin-american youth, Felicitas. He wanted to appear strong but deep down, he was still somber.
When Amelia entered the room, Ricky's demeanor changed drastically, however. His eyes briefly met towards hers. The reason he went on the dangerous mission in the first places was to impress her and the nurse, Jac. Here he was, a total failure of a man, letting one of his best friends die. He felt embarrassed, but that did not stop his compulsive sweating, which was unfortunately acidic. The acid dripped to the floor, making a sizzling noise as it hit the concrete. He scrambled to catch it with his fingers, he had already been forced to pay for a couch he ruined at the base, he felt like a dog that had made mess by getting into the garbage. He wiped his brow with his sleeve, listening to Rayner, he seized his chance.
"Er, you know I am p-pretty brave too! Count me in to fake our trail, Rayner!" Ricky piped up, sweat dripping down his cheek.
Ricky motioned to cover up his slightly bleeding wound. It was not bad, but he would need to disinfect it when he got the chance but the idea of showing up to Nurse Jacqueline like a bird with a broken wing disgusted him, nor did he want her to touch his sweaty arms. For safety reasons of course.
Location: Floor One, El Paso warehouse. Time: After Midnight. Interactions: @Capt_Deuce@Blemmigan@Jet, open.
Assess the damages? Avila herself experienced a moment of short terror as she finally began to fully grasp the situation's magnitude. So many of the Haven's best splattered, all in a single night. A scary thought for sure. The look of a handless Talos did not help this reality, even as his agreement with her words came in welcome. This was the first time she'd actually seen revolution take such a toll on lives, and to have to get used to that... was stomach twisting to say the least.
To wake her up from her worrisome doubts arrived the hand of a built behemoth, impacting her back. With feet stuttering a short distance forward, Avila sighed, rather lowly. Following the opener, to put on an attitude like that was embarrassing, especially to someone who wants to make change happen. Shay's assuring words served as a magnifier for that embarrassment. Even if just temporary, it was unacceptable. When revolutionaries fall, the most disrespectful thing to do is to not pick up their weapons.
Speaking of things to pick up, the reins of leadership were one of them, or so it was made appear. Of the opinions thrown around, one was most prominent. Avila faced Rayner again, a weak smirk growing on her face as he pushed himself to bluff, just to hearten. He really was a respectable man, to come back to empathetic reason so fast, even after a clear massacre. With some calm overcoming her, she let her right hand rest over her heart, remembering the teachings she had once hellishly studied to learn.
"The people seem to be looking up to you," she spoke with a relieved tone.
"You shouldn't do it if you think it'd be untrue to you, but... I'll come to avenge the partisan spirit with you, if you ask."
Avila took a few steps back, nodding. There were still steps and actions to decide.
And these steps were important above all, as necessary duty.
A dark-hair male was sitting in a dimly lit room with his roommate. These two so happened to be Carter Vitch and Tyrone Nitrou. Carter had promised to game and hang out with Tyrone tonight, and this was the literal only reason he was here instead of say, a secret suicide mission, or fighting more villains. Cater grins as he clicks away, the TV screen glowing with faint yells along with crashing and exploding sounds. damn did he love video games. Especially playing them against Tyrone. He was fun to defeat, mostly because he wasn't to good at shooting games. Then again Tyrone was a powerful opponent in other games like Mariokart and Farming/Pokemon games. Of course that's one of the things that made him so interesting. Tyrone grins, "time to defeat you again!" he laughs as he pops up and shoots Tyrone's character, ending the match. Tyrone groans, "Awe man! how do you keep winning?!!" he complains, flopping back on the couch, staring at the ceiling. "Skill and practice of course!" Carter half laughs, receiving another groan in response from
Tyrone. "How about we play another round on one of my games?" Tyrone perks up with a challenging smile, "Let's see how easily you win when you're on my turf!" the freckled boy laughs. Carter sighs, rolling his eyes, "fine, but only if I get to pick my racer first!" he challenges as he goes to pick out a good character.
Bzz Bzz. Bzz Bzz.
Someone was assaulting his inbox. It was so annoying. All he wanted to do was spend the night playing video games in peace, but he had been hearing messages arrive in his phone fore over an hour. "Jesus Christ." he mumbles, finally caving and grabbing his phone. over 26 messages. Christ these people were mental. couldn't they see he was trying to enjoy his 'day off'? He completely put aside his controller to look through them.
Open Night Skies
El Paso, Texas
101 Dead Memes
Accident on the 411
Carter, there's been a terrible incident. Many were lost on the mission and we don't know for sure, but a leak is suspected. You're not safe my friend, please return to the base, it is the safest place for us now.
Carter, please respond.
My friend this is not the time for your video games, or whatever it is you are up to.
Your life could be on the line here.
There were actually a lot more unread messages like this.
Carter answer the damn phone
Goddamit do you never shut up?
Fine. I'll head over.
God. You hated Khalid sometimes. So annoying. You reluctantly type a response, you know that if you didn't respond now he would continue to annoy you all night. He would also probably start calling you again since these messages were now parked as read. God dammit. Checking your messages alone has pushed you into a corner. You had to respond no matter what, and you had to go to base. Because if you didn't go to base, someone. whether or not it was him, would have a fit. You were sure. Someone always had a fit. You really did not want to go in. As far as you could tell the 'terrible incident had nothing to do with you, and you didn't want to involve yourself. After all you had only joined this group a week or two ago, you hadn't really beem involved with anything yet, so you felt it really had nothing to do with you. God, you really hated 'terrible incidents.' While thinking over how annoyed you were you glance at you other notifications. Ugh. More trash. You respond to a few other texts, and ignore some annoying comments.
Carter sighs, pocketing his phone, "It looks like we're gonna have to put that rematch on hold." he grimaces, "Gotta head into work." he huffs as he gets up, picking up his jacket and bag. "What? nooooooo!" Tyrone complains, "You promised he would have a full game night tonight!" he pouts, crossing his arms. "yea, I know I did, but that was also before someone spammed by phone with over 20 texts." he sighs, as he pulls on his shoes in the entrance hall. "I promise I'll make it up to you." he tells Tyrone as he stands up reaching for the door, "I'll see you tomorrow, make sure to get some sleep." Carter finishes as he exits the apartment, leaving a bummed Tyrone alone.
Cater heads down the stairs and down onto the street, where he picks up his bike, unlocking it before heading on his way. It was pretty nice out for a night, not as cold as usual, as still pretty comfortable. He kept an eye on the street and his surroundings as he petaled to the base. After time passed and he took a few shortcuts through alleys he rolled up to the building. He climbed off his bike and pulled it along with him through the door, as he didn't trust most people to not steal his bike if he left it outside. Once in the building he left it off to the side before entering the elevator. He headed down a few floors, along with someone else. Uh... Henry, as well. He absentmindedly nodded a little when Henrey spoke. Seemed important. one one the floor where everyone else was gathered, Carter stepped out glancing around at all the chaos, hands in his pockets and bag over his shoulder. He approached one group of people, who he recognized of course. "The fuck is going on here?" he asks them, glancing around at the people around them. Thy looked like a bunch of fuckin' headless chickens.
"Fun night?" Mutters Henry, biting his tongue. She didn't understand what had gone down on the mission, fun was the last thing on his mind. It's possible that she meant the drugs, and in that case her comment was a little more palletable, but it didn't matter at the end of the day, in either case he let it pass before carrying on.
"Yeah plenty of fun being blown out of a building by Warhead - son of a bitch got me good but I got lucky and escaped you know? Definately some divine intervention there but it is what it is just need to get back at them twice as hard - maybe they'll show up here and save me the trip" espouts the speedster, his mind running a mile a minute, words firing off to match with a frenetic pace of their own. Before he could add even more to the avalanche, a newcomer arrives from outside, a recent recruit by the name of Carter. Heading to the lift without formalities it was obvious that the guy meant business, and Henry intended to follow suit, heading to the lift behind the new guy. With gears rumbling in the backdrop, Henry looks to Francine with a developing smirk.
"Be careful out there. They got a bounty on us, million per. Hero hunters are gonna have a hard on for angel heads" he warns as the platform lowers, the trap floor closing behind them as the two descend into darkness.
Met with industrial lighting, Henry and Carter arrive at the center pavilion of floor one. Opening, Carter asks the very valid question of "What the fuck is going on here?" As he does so, Henry unbuckles his green ballistic armor and walking to a nearby table he removes it before placing it down along with his mask. Now wearing but a tight black longsleeve and tactical pants he leans against the table, just about ready to answer Carter's question.