PSYCLE (IC/Postponed Acceptance/PG-16)

[Blake 312]

Standing on ceremony was rarely advantageous. Making oneself known to world leaders was even worse still. Yet, here Avis was, doing what she had to. After all, this would easily be her best chance at retrieval without incurring the wrath of said officials. Sure, she had minced her words, as they had minced their own... But that was expected. Her 'allies' would most likely turn on her once her goal was achieved, but that was a bridge to solve as time progressed.

For now, it was much more important to...

"Nice to meet you!" Avis spoke with a smile, her tone bright, "I've already been introduced by the Vox Populi, so I will say that I was recently interning with Dr. Carson and the now deceased Vox Ingenium. I may have some ideas as to where the good doctor has gone, though... I wasn't privy to much information, but I paid attention to some stuff I probably should have forgotten, hehe..." She rubbed the back of her head a bit, the smile growing into a nervous smirk, "But all is well that ends well, you know?"

Tedious. All of this over some... sentimentality. Didn't she know better? But even so, she couldn't shake the feeling she had to do this. If only she had never found that position. As her thoughts drifted, her heart seized in her chest, causing Avis to stumble. She waved off any concern as she began to manually resume her blood to resume its flow.

"A-ah, sorry about that... my heart isn't the strongest. B-but never fear, I won't weigh you down, trust me! I've dealt with this for many years now, even though I'm not too terribly strong. In fact, I got involved because I..."

Gulping suddenly and dramatically, she stood up rather straight. With a turn towards the living Voxes, her facade dropped once the others couldn't see. They knew full well where she had been, and she had the feeling one of them knew exactly what that meant... Though they likely wouldn't act. She had only let enough slip to garner some interest from her new... 'colleagues'.

"Sorry, sorry! I know their research is top secret, I promise I won't say anythiiing!" Avis whined, her face returning to a concerned one as she turned back to the group she was to work with, "I, uh, really can't say anything more... I apologize!"

[Mr. Hyde 204]

Earlier:

It had been in an insane amount of whirlwind of firsts for Stalag since he had encountered this rag-tag group of humans.  The first time he had flown, and the first time he had taken a train, all within a couple of days of each other.  Stalag wished he could have been in awe of the situation, but truthfully, he was doing his best to stave off the motion sickness.  He held onto one of the handrails for dear life, as pridefully as he could.  The look of nausea on his face was noticeable, despite his best efforts.  The team had said this was the fastest way to travel on land, and he would be the last to slow them down!  He would pull through this!

Setting foot on solid ground once again, he had found himself in Rome, Italy.  This was the first time he had stepped foot outside of the North American continent.  He was glad he did so.  Something about the architecture of this land really caught his eye.  He had never used the word to describe anything but a female, but it was truly beautiful.  Even a creature from a bygone era could understand that. 

He had made sure to procure a brochure before boarding the train, and had skimmed it on the way here.  Now that he had arrived, the certain attraction was calling his name.  And it would be rude not to answer it in it's own home.

"TO THE COLOSSEUM!  I shall be joining you at the Triumvirate once I am finished conquering it!"  Stalag had read the history of the locale.  A place where humans battled to the death for glory and for the entertainment of others.  Who knew they were capable of such things?!  

So it was that - in the guiding company of Sita - Stalag was shown the way to the Colosseum, and taught some fun facts about other places of tangential note along the way. Nothing of historical significance, so much as anecdotes of her own experience during previous visits to the city. But once the destination was in sight, its silhouette was unmistakable. A great circular wall of ancient bricks, shooting several stories up, its age doing little to fade the sense of awe the sight of it inspired. As Stalag and company passed through one of its entrances - noting along the way that no events were scheduled here for today - it quickly became apparent that while the exterior was ancient, the seats and interiors of the Colosseum had received care, maintenance, and some light refurbishing over the last few decades.

After all, nobody wanted to sit on millennia-old wooden seats.

Perhaps because today was a day off for the historic building, the seats were largely empty. A scant few other groups could be spotted here and there, but it had the same type of atmosphere as a stadium's rafters three hours after the game was over. Likewise, the sands in the heart of the Colosseum were devoid of any combatants, beasts, or otherwise. The only thing stopping anyone from stepping on the sands and having a bout was common sense and a few signs that warned spectators that they weren't supposed to do that.

"Y'know, this is my first time being here," Sita commented. "Shame nothing's going on today. I bet this place is awesome when it's packed with cheering crowds and armed combatants."

"Hmmmm..."  Stalag scratched underneath his chin.  "Well let us be the changing of that!"  Stalag smiled at the girl.  He picked up Sita like a sack of flour, and placed her on his shoulder.  He crouched low, before launching himself from the spectator seats, and into the arena.  They landed with a loud crash, dust exploding from the impact.  "WHO WOULD LIKE TO CHALLENGE THE MIGHTY STALAG IN MORTAL COMBAT!!!!"  He roared confidently to no one in particular.  

The show of confidence certainly didn't fail to grab the attention of... well, everyone present. Near the front rows, a group of three sat, looking down at Stalag. Unlike most of the visitors who just went back to their business, however, the tall man among them shouted back in response.

"HOW MIGHTY ARE WE TALKING? LIKE, "I HIT THE GYM DAILY" MIGHTY, OR "I KILL MONSTERS BARE-HANDED FOR SPORT" MIGHTY?" The two girls with him seemed eager to talk him out of it, not that Stalag or Sita could hear what either of them were saying from where they stood, but it seemed the man was hearing none of it

Stalag could only respond with a toothy grin.  His challenge was answered.  He cracked his knuckles, before responding in kind.

"WE ARE TALKING OF THE STRONGEST CREATURE TO EVER ROAM THE EARTH, MIGHTY!  SO MIGHTY, ONLY A METEOR COULD STOP HIS TYRANNY! RAHAHAHAHAHAH!"  Stalag set his sharp sight on the man, licking his mouth in angst.  "MIGHTY ENOUGH FOR YOU?"  

OST

Rather than respond in words, the man stood up, crouched down, then leapt forth from his seat, hurling himself forth from his position, across the sands, and straight toward Stalag. Where, upon getting close enough, the Meteor-Kin would notice two things. One, this man's fists were interlocked and now bearing down upon him in a sledgehammer-style attack. Two, Sita had already gotten out of dodge, putting considerable space between herself and the fight that was now unfolding.

Stalag couldn't help but feel his insides twist in excitement!  This human boldly threw himself at not only a Meteor-Kin, but Stalag Mightjaw!  He must've been a Man among men, like the President of the United States!  He wondered what the strength of a man with this much confidence was like, and intended to take the blow straight on...but would that be an insult to this mans pride?  He didn't wish to slight a challenger like that!  Instead, Stalag had reached his arms up in an attempt to grab his challengers.  

"Witness this battle, Sita!  I can feel it will be the greatest fought upon this sand!!!  RAHHHHHHH!"  

As the man's arms were grasped in Stalag's claws, the Meteor-Kin would feel a distinct downward pull as the swing continued almost unhindered, but barely avoiding the Meteor-Kin's skull. "Nice catch. Hope your back's as solid as your hands!" With that, the man unballed his fists, grabbing Stalag's wrists in return, then spinning and throwing the dinosaur of a man as if he were some dog's chew toy. Having not tangled with a Meteor-Kin before, however, Stalag was heavier than his new opponent had expected, which did affect how that worked out for him. Rather than crashing back-first into the walls of the pit, Stalag fell just short, sliding along the far end of the sands before still colliding with the far wall, just not as hard, just beneath the curious gaze of the man's companions.

"Huh. Heavy sort."

Unwilling or perhaps unable to make another mighty leap, Stalag's foe began simply running instead, though certainly not fast enough to get to Stalag before the proud Mightjaw was back on his feet.

Stalag was surely taken aback by the man's sheer strength.  His excitement was going to boil over!  It had been some time since he had been thrown around like that...was this man a Meteor-Kin in disguise?  The question would have to wait.  His challenger was barreling at him.  He had gotten himself up, with the support of the Colosseum wall, and sprinted at his opponent.  His stomps seemed to shake the entire Colosseum as he approached.  His fangs snarled as he went to grab the man's back from the top, using his height advantage to do so.   

Once the two combatants were once again in grappling range, the man found himself unable to stop Stalag from grabbing at his back. He tried to knock Stalag off his feet with a low kick, but it wouldn't take much for Stalag to notice that although the kick was also powerful, it was a sort of powerful that was still within the range of normal human capability. Not at all like the feat of strength displayed just a moment ago. A feat that, if the early signs of bulging veins along his arms were any indicator, were just the warm-up.

The kick easily smacked against Stalag's trunk of a calf, and he almost laughed at the thud.  Instead, Stalag lifted the man up off the ground until he was upside down in Stalag's grasp.  The Meteor-Kin again hoisted the man parallel to the ground, before violently slamming him into the ground on his back.  He looked back at the faces of the two spectators, in order to see the reaction of the display of dominance, only to get a better look of one of the girls.  He was very familiar with her...but where had he seen this human?  He had only met so few before...it couldn't have been...

"Miss Gabriela?"  He let out faintly.

Supplex successful, the man remained on the ground for a while to regain his bearings and catch his breath. His expression suddenly changed, however, at the mention of that name, faint though it was.

"Crap, you've met before?"   With a sigh of equal parts reluctance and relief, he got back up to his feet. The veins along his arms began pulsing and emitting steam, as he said "Sorry, but if you know who that girl is, I need to stop holding back just because we're in a city. Nobody from the past can know her whereabouts, that's what she told us."

With that, the man raised a singular fist, before slamming it down straight toward Stalag. While his previous blows showed no sign of restraint either, this was different. Whatever power granted him his strength, it was running at full speed now.  

With the fist approaching, it was as if some deep prey response had awakened inside him.  It was a feeling he had never felt before, and it was coming from a human of all things!  Every fiber of his being, of his instinct, was telling him to get out of the way of this punch, lest he share the fate as those Gladiators before him.  Using every ounce of strength in his legs, and even his tail, Stalag bounded backwards, so far and so fast that he had landed on his hands and knees, sliding on the sand.  A wave of sand had hit him as he did so, as he looked back to where that man's fist had landed.  A large hole had appeared in the ground, cracks in it almost reaching Stalag.  Scattered bricks from the walls now littered the stadium.  This man's strength was incredible...it was fact that he was stronger than any Meteor-Kin he had done battle with in the past.  His excitement had turned now been turned into rage.  Rage that this man had Gabi...Rage that this man had made him dodge an attack!  He snarled at the man.

"You are Miss Gabrielas kidnapper?!  I cannot allow you to leave here with her...she will be returned to her father, on my honor as a Mightjaw."  It was obvious this man was a Psychic...a strong one at that.  Perhaps the strongest.  But it did not matter.  He looked to Sita.  "You will tell my story?  Yes?"  

"Then come and--"

"This isn't a kidnapping!" interrupted the girl from the stands, looking down at Stalag. Afterwards, though, she seemed unsure of what to say for a moment. Once the words settled in her mind, however, she steeled her resolve, and spoke them. "I wasn't kidnapped. I'm with them, and their... company... by choice. They're taking good care of me, if that's what dad's worried about. But I can't go home yet. And I DEFINITELY can't let him know what I've been doing. Sorry, I don't remember who you are exactly, but if you know me, I need you to stop knowing me. Forget you ever saw me here. If word of where I've been gets out... hell will come with it."

Then she looked down to the other combatant. "Reed. We're leaving. We've still got work to do, and you've caused too much of a stir already."

Stalag stood tall, looking at the Princess of the NAR in confusion.  She was on her own mission out here.  He couldn't help but feel a bit of respect...like a hatchling after their first hunt.  She had the same look in her eyes.  

"I will not forget you.  I am in your father's debt."  He crossed his arms, huffing.  "The sun has been in my eyes for too long...I must have mistaken you for someone else...stay safe, young miss."  His gaze then focused on the man named Reed.  "We'll will be finishing of this at a later date.  Until then...know that I, Stalag Mightjaw, consider you as Mighty as a Meteor."  

"Now that's a new compliment. I like the sound of that!" Reed gave a hearty laugh, before returning the praise. "And I, Reed Skinner, think you're no slouch yourself. The strongest person I've tussled with, for sure!"  

Stalag took the compliment in stride as well.  He nodded to the group, before going to pick Sita up again.

"Let us be reassembling with the team, yes?"  He placed her on his shoulder, as the two strolled out of the Colosseum.  "Well, what did you think of the show?"  Stalag asked the tiny soft-skin with a wagging tail.  

"I think we'll be lucky to avoid jail time," Sita sighed, not looking back at the consequential crater of Stalag's bout with Reed. She could feel her heart sick into her stomach when that last blow got thrown, and while she wasn't necessarily a by-the-books law-abider, getting incarcerated as an accessory to damaging a facility of historical and cultural significance was not on her to-do list by any means. "You both were impressive, though."

"You are too modest, Young Sita!  Do not hold back your awe of my strength!  RAHAHAH!"  With a boisterous laugh, Stalag and Sita made their way back to the Triumvirate.

---

Present:

Stalag was bored to tears during their meeting with the Triumvirate.  In his eyes, they were nothing more than pretentious little snakes, looking down on them from atop a throne of lies and arrogance.  He didn't like the idea of being an errand boy for them either, delivering some recluse genius to them so he could accept their proposal to ascend to the ivory lie throne.  What a boring errand.  His mind couldn't help but wander to his fight prior to this.  His tail smacked the ground with a loud thud.  

A young girl, Avis, would be accompanying them to locate the doctor.  Another small and frail human specimen.  They introduced themselves properly to the group.  Stalag bowed his head.

"A-ah, sorry about that... my heart isn't the strongest. B-but never fear, I won't weigh you down, trust me! I've dealt with this for many years now, even though I'm not too terribly strong. In fact, I got involved because I..."

"No need to undersell yourself, Avis.  If you weren't necessary for our success, the Triumvirate would not have  been the entrusting of you with this mission.  I am Stalag Mightjaw."  Stalag bowed his head to the temporary member of the team.  "No harm shall befall you, as long as I breath.  You can be trusting me of this."  He sighed, looking to Sita.  "I hear there is a leaning tower in this country...shall we go and correct it's posture for the people?"  

[Chaos Sonic 443]

Prior to Triumvirate Meeting

True to his word, he and John went museum hopping, namely to the one that his prize lay waiting for him. But to the outside and even to John, Neal was simply acting like an enthusiastic tourist. Of course, it was a facade that he played well, considering he had done it so many times…and yet, just enjoying the sights as a tourist was a fun thing too. It would give him nothing really to strive for, a sort of time to just enjoy himself and the atmosphere around him.

Unfortunately, one of his “grails” resided here in this museum and he wasn't leaving Rome until it was in his grasp.

After walking around with John, Neal saw it: the room where his prize lay…the Spearhead of the Lance of Longinus. The room was a big one, that went without saying, as well as having a mixture of both Roman history and some Christianity exhibits. Only natural, considering that according to texts, this spearhead was the very one that pierced the side of Christ during the Crucifixion. Something that had to do with Christ, it was definitely a big deal, least from what Neal thought.

Nevertheless, the focal point with the spearhead exhibit was directly in the middle…naturally. Just looking around nonchalantly, Neal noticed that the room in question had a balcony-like second floor. It had Roman related historical items, but nothing religious like it was down here in the main room, but no staircase to said balcony…curious. The wall that Neal noted was facing towards the museum's front door had an arched doorway to two other rooms on the right, and one in the back…he noted that. There were no windows, but the room only had the two stories and NovaRoman architecture really liked skylights.

The big one overhead…neat. Neal thought, appreciating the exhibit and the architecture present.

Of course, Neal was already aware of the next part: guards and security. He was able to sneak a peek at a schedule he happened to see by “accidentally” walking into the wrong room thinking it was a bathroom…stupid tourist stuff, the usual. From what he noticed, it was well guarded at all hours. He'd have his work cut out for him for sure. Plus there was also the enigma of WHAT these security guards had at their disposal in the terms of abilities.

Regardless, Neal had gathered the information and was set. Now he needed to formulate a strategy and plan for this heist. It would be a challenge, but the fact that his heart was beating as much as it was…he knew he wanted this…he NEEDED this.

“This was an educational experience here for sure.” Neal smiled, looking over at John, chuckling. “Now, let's get to the Triumvirate, before Austin has a freak out.” And thus, the two proceeded to rendezvous with the others at the appropriate meeting place.

---

"Finally, you're here! I've been twiddling my thumbs here for like an hour waiting for at least some of you to show up! Come on, I already got us arranged, and I doubt the Triumvirate will be happy we've left them hanging for so long."

"But we made it, nonetheless!" Neal stifled out a chuckle, already following after Fay.

Meeting the Triumvirate

As he and the others stepped into the office of the Triumvirate, it immediately was apparent to Neal specifically... "...is this an office or a throne room?" he whistled to himself, getting a good look at the digs in this place.

The room was large, featuring an oval table with numerous chairs in the middle of the room, and a glass roof to let the sun illuminate the room directly, setting though it was. At measured intervals around the walls of the room, the flag of Novaroma hung proud, often flanked on either side by its vertically-oriented cousin, the national standard. And of course, against the back wall, atop a quarter-circular set of stairs, were three thrones, the bases and surroundings of which were intricately carved in different fashions. Truth be told, if he wasn't on business nor having his eyes on a different piece of treasure...he'd be on this place and everything inside like his life depended on it. Just a handful of this would make him richer or maybe as rich as any Caesar.

"Thus does the pride of Roma return to us. And you've brought the American agents with you, no less! As much as we'd love to have Íroas regale us with stories of his adventures abroad, and hear how the rest of you are finding our city, we have more pressing matters at hand with the Americans. Business that does concern the intelligence we promised your people, make no mistake."

Neal was brought back to the current moment, seeing two out of the three Triumvirate speak...and noticed that the third throne was vacant...and for the reason why. He winced a bit at hearing something like that. And the fact that the MIRROR forces attacked during the centennial...which was why Vox Ingenium was no longer around. The young thief shifted his position, his hands in his pockets as he started thinking.

...it was well orchestrated...masterfully orchestrated at that. he thought, his left foot tapping slightly and silently. Does this mean that MIRROR took the time to carefully and methodically attack not the centennial, but moved in a way to also strike other locations? That's a risky gamble...but damn, that sounds like a pretty hefty pay out if that's indeed what happened... Naturally, he was lost in his thoughts, only to be brought back out of them by the conversation at hand yet again.

"You say that as if you came up with it all on your own. When a Triumvir dies, replacing them is top priority. In the case of Vox Ingenium, the process is simple: The other two Triumvirs must agree on who will sit upon the throne, and what we hope they can bring to Roma. And not only do we have our candidate, but by good fortune, we have an associate of his as well. This is Avis Alba. She should be able to help you track down our target, Doctor Frederick Carson."

Neal glanced over, seeing this 'Avis Alba' in question...

"Nice to meet you! I've already been introduced by the Vox Populi, so I will say that I was recently interning with Dr. Carson and the now deceased Vox Ingenium. I may have some ideas as to where the good doctor has gone, though... I wasn't privy to much information, but I paid attention to some stuff I probably should have forgotten, hehe...But all is well that ends well, you know?"

...she seemed...alright...for the most part. Least that was the first immediate reaction of meeting her. But she was an intern for Dr. Carson, which was an impressive little bit of trivia that he decided to log away.

"A pleasure to meet you, Avis." Neal shot her a smirk. "I'm Neal. I'm sure we'll get along swimmingly." He didn't feel like giving too much away about himself right now, least...not yet anyway. But after a bit, they were finally dismissed.

"Fay just sent me orders from the boss. We head out tomorrow at o'-six-hundred, so be sure to rest up and do whatever else needs doing in town tonight!"

Neal took that into consideration, noticing that John gave him a small nudge with his shoulder and a slight nod. He knew what this meant. The thief gave a slight nod back with a quick smirk, before returning to his poker face like facade.

"Also, he said to tell all of you that if he knew it would take so long for you to meet up with the Triumvirate, he would've done it himself. Between you and me, I think he's just talking a big game and is just as eager to check out the town as anyone else."

“He's just like the rest of us, I'd venture to guess.” he said with a shrug. “Then again, I can sympathize with his worries. After all, he let a ragtag team just go meet the Triumvirate rather than someone higher up. The last thing he'd want is for anyone to say something wrong or out of line. Thankfully for us, that didn't happen.” As they exited the lobby, Neal gave the group a bit of a wave. "I'm gonna do some more sight seeing. John here had some more places he wanted to show. We'll catch you all later." With that, with John in tow...Neal proceeded to return to the museum. He had a job to do...and one hell of a heist to pull off.

[(o ×) 228]

The high sea!

Despite having slept on dozens of couches in a handful of countries, Tsurumi had never once been on a ship upon the open ocean. It was a scenario she had fantasized about plenty, especially being surrounded by so many cuties! She had bold plans to say such things as 'I'm flying!' from the bow of the ship while wrapped in the arms of Sita, the thief, or either of the twins (perhaps even some combination thereof!), but instead she had found herself in an entirely different circumstance.

Over the week of transit, Tsurumi became intimately aware of her relationship with seasickness. She wasn't entirely sure if the constant smell of salt water contributed, or if it was purely a matter of the constant rocking without any visible frame of reference. Whatever it was she was confident that she had lost a few pounds through her inexplicable inability to ingest even insultingly infinitesimal amounts of nourishment.

Unfortunately, her body seemed to take offense to the awful condition she was in for the entirety of the trip, to the point where even upon reaching dry land she was well out of commission. And she had done so well to research the love stories of the area. She was pretty sure that romance was even named after this place! And so, while the rest of her compatriots got to tour the city, Tsurumi was holed up in the first hotel Mister SecDef found after they got off the train, vomiting away her dreams of finding love in the City of Light.

After a few hours, she had mostly returned to her normal chipper self, and a shower had her feeling even better. Maybe I'm allergic to trains too? Kinda wild I am able to skydive without issue. Dressed up in the cutest outfit she was able to pack on such short notice being practically kidnapped by the US Government from what was supposed to be a day trip, Tsurumi burst forth from the hotel room, only to be immediately met with the exact type of man the novels she made a habit of reading implied would live here. Chiseled jaw, a dirty blonde flowing mane of hair that extended well past his shoulders. In his arms he carried a basket full of evidently used towels.

"Pulchra vir!" was all Tsurumi could stammer out as he cocked an eyebrow.

"Is that... Latin? You know we pretty much only speak English, right? I'm Fabius, I'm just here to collect the laundry. Your name is Soomy, right? I think that is what I was told..."

Tsurumi's eyes were practically sparkling behind her bangs as she shoved her way past him and out into the streets of Rome, "I am sorry, Antinoüs, but I am already committed to somewhere in the range of one to four others, and they have far more compelling backstories than you! I cannot wander astray from them!"

[yui 576]

JUNE 17TH, 2030, 10:04 P.M.
LOCATION: ROME, NOVAROMA...

After a long day of arriving in Rome, seeing some sights, and meeting the Triumvirate, the sun had at last set over the City of Light. However, in the dark of night, where the sun's eyes could not see, all was not well in Rome tonight.

---

HOTEL

Initially, the reservation was meant for eleven people in total. Austin, hoping to make his funds stretch for this mission as best he could, had gone for the most cost-efficient option he could work out that didn't sacrifice the comfort of the team. That meant dividing everybody into four suites with three beds each. This also meant one bed was left empty, but as much as Austin didn't like the conspicuous "one empty spot" situation, it was more cost-efficient due to a mass reservation package the hotel offered. Fortunately for him, a new, twelfth face was added to the mix later that same day. And fortunately for Avis, hotel arrangements were made for the night, as there just so happened to be a spare bed among the rooms Austin had reserved.

In one of those four suites, beds had been claimed up by Dayna, Tsurumi, and Sita. While the latter two had whatever conversation they may or may not have been having, the former was holding betwixt her fingers, a long, silver hair. The very same one she had retrieved from Air Force Zero's break-in. And standing across the suite's kitchen from her was Austin, brewing a pot of coffee, listening in on what Dayna had to say.

"Pinning anything down with so little to work with was a chore, and to be frank, I'm surprised I got it figured out this fast."

"Good work getting some information on our trespasser. What're we dealing with?"

"A psychic, obviously. Seems to be a male in his early thirties, Chinese-Japanese heritage, if not origin. Since all I've got is a single hair, I'm having some trouble feeling out what he can do, aside from the hair thing Tom and Geri told us about. Based on the descriptions of the break-in however, we can assume he's also capable of teleportation or perhaps phasing through matter. Anything else I could tell you is just educated guesswork, but--"

Dayna was cut short by the suite door slamming open, and Fay bursting into the room.

"Team, we've got trouble and no time to explain, all hands on deck, parking lot, like right now!"

Tsurumi scrambled up from her position lying on the bed, hastily trying and failing to peel a gelatin mask off of her face, "Like, violent trouble?? Or did someone spill our takeout?"

"MIRROR trouble, May and I just saw one of their top dogs on our way back from the store with some people I don't recognize, get up and get those feet moving!"

"SHIT FUCK WE GOTTA GET OUT OF HERE" Tsurumi extended a hand toward Sita, and the moment Sita took her hand Tsurumi's body began to fold. End over end, creasing and turning impossibly until she was nothing more than a small hair ornament, in the shape of a butterfly.

"We'll cover you guys from up above," Sita said, opening the nearby window. It was the best compromise. She certainly wasn't about to run away, but she wasn't much of a frontline fighter either, not to mention Tsurumi seemed to have no intention of participating up close and personal. By providing support from on high, it kept both girls away from the heat of the up-close stuff, and also wasn't a retreat of some sort. Besides, this was just the kind of thing she'd signed up for!

The suite containing most of the rest of the team would likewise find themselves met with May suddenly bursting in, but those who had gotten to know the twins might have just assumed it was a normal May entrance until she opened her mouth.

"Parking lot, now, we've got hostiles!"

As the twins ushered the team down two flights of stairs, Fay notably stayed behind in the hotel lobby as the rest of the team stepped out into the parking lot of the hotel. There would the team find two members of the group Stalag and Sita had encountered at the Colosseum, now in the presence of three other women. Hand tensed near his suit jacket, Austin was the first to address the group.

"Shouhi Aki, I presume."

"Mm?" The woman in the gothic clothes turned, staring Austin dead in the eyes. "Then you must be connected to that mole of ours. We were conducting our own business that didn't involve her, but if you're here, surely you know where she is. Hand her over. We can make it a worthwhile exchange, I assure you."

"Like hell we're gonna treat Fay like currency!" May spat. Without waiting for further negotiations or the failure thereof, she immediately reached into her dress, procuring a small person made of clay, then throwing it on the ground in front of her. And upon contact, it grew three sizes in just as many blinks of an eye, becoming less of a clay figure and more of a clay golem.

"Very well. Have it your way. Twins, cover me. Nyx, Camille, how about you show me what you're capable of?"

"Yes, ma'am!"

WARRIORS OF DARKNESS

Nyx raised her hands, prompting the night's shade to gather and solidify in front of the hotel doors, behind the team. With their only real escape route cut off, she pulled her hands back, and so too did the wall suddenly pull back, toward her and the rest of the MIRROR gathering, fully intent to take the team with it. Her cohort, for her part, was less the type to bring others to her and more the type to bring herself to them. As evidenced by her crouching low, then pouncing, headed straight for Stalag, seeing as he was the largest and thus the easiest target.

---

MUSEUM OF RELIGIOUS HISTORY

CLOSED
HOURS:
TUE-FRI: 7AM-11PM
SAT-MON: 8AM-9PM

"This is a pretty long smoke break," John said between drags, looking at the sign hanging on the museum door. Ah, yes. A "smoke break." Which turned into a nighttime stroll around the neighborhood with his good friend Neal. Which, of course, was a cover-up for the real goal of the night. At first, John was going to tag along either way - not into the museum of course, but at least up to the premises - simply to see if the thief could pull off whatever he was after here. But, his curiosity wound up getting the better of him. What sorts of gadgets would a thief have in their arsenal? He wanted to make something like that. And so...

"Do not lose this," he said, handing a device to Neal. "Or else we'll both get fired, deported, and sent to prison. In that order, if we're lucky." The device in question? To the average onlooker, and perhaps the average user, it was just a grappling hook. A very fast one, and one capable of pulling its user automatically, but still just a grappling hook. To Neal, who had been informed of its functions, however, it was so much more. Grab the hook end and throw the base, and it doubled as a smoke grenade that went off on impact with the floor or wall. Flip a switch on the bottom side, and it could serve as a flashlight in a pinch. And, worse case scenario, rip the base open and it could be a one-time flashbang, but doing so meant the grappling hook would be unusable afterward.

"Now get in there and show me how a thief would use this thing."

---

CITY OUTSKIRTS

After a brief train ride to the edge of the largest city in the world, Íroas was met with the familiar sight of the world's greatest pizza-maker himself. Following Pepe's guidance, the two men ventured out further still, further from urban civilization. Houses grew further apart, and the concrete and steel of the city gave way to grass and trees. Deeper still, until there were no houses by the roads; only a scant few motels and chain stores & restaurants. Here, at the edge of the border between civilization and wilderness, they traveled further. Far from even the furthest motels, in a place where a pizzeria had absolutely no business being, it was finally in sight.

PEPE'S PIZZA 2
NOTHING COMPARES (2)

The exterior had somewhat of a more modern aesthetic than the already-existing Pepe's Pizza, but aside from that and the slightly different signage, there was no questioning it. The building - design choices aside - was unmistakbly Pepe's Pizza. There was no open or closed sign, nor anything to indicate what the store's hours were, but the lights were on, and the place didn't look closed for the night. And when Pepe led the way to the door - complaining the entire way about the way the building looked, being a fan of older buildings himself - the two men found that the door was indeed unlocked. Pepe stepped in first, followed by Íroas. The interior was much the same as the exterior. Modernized design aside, it was unmistakably Pepe's Pizza.

"Agh, look at this place! Tile flooring, cheap and far too overdone. You come to Pepe's Pizza, you get the hardwood floor! Makes you feel right at home!"

Everything seemed to be more or less normal inside. A little shinier to the eyes and smoother to the touch than one might expect, perhaps, but nothing that couldn't get handwaved as having just recently cleaned up very thoroughly. As the inspection of the pizzeria continued, however, Pepe and Íroas heard a young man's voice, from just behind them.

"Welcome to Pepe's Pizza 2, what can we give you?"

There was that slightest off quality to his voice. Perhaps he had an unusual speech impediment. Or maybe he drank way too much milk, and his throat was horribly phlegmy as a result. Maybe he was just sick and was still allowed to come into work despite that. Whatever the case, the young man's voice sounded almost normal, but not quite. He gave the duo of hero and chef a smile, eyes hidden behind long bangs of hair, and hands politely kept behind his back.

Choosing to defer to the expert's judgment, Pepe simply gave Íroas a small nudge, and a nod of confidence.

[Saikazo 241]

Íroas wasn't sure how best to approach this whole mess. Even though the restaurant was most definitely odd, there wasn't anything that could be pinned down as 'wrong.' Even though in Íroas could feel in his gut that something was off. Especially with the person that was attempting to take their order. He wanted to just start swinging, but what if he was wrong? Even if this was fake, that didn't mean people deserved to be hurt... well, not hurt by him, at least.

Pepe simply gave Íroas a small nudge with a nod of confidence.

So it was up to him after all. What should he do...?

The answer hit him like a bolt of lightning. 

"Yes, hello, I am a health inspector." Íroas stated in professional tone as he reached into his pocket. He whipped out his bounty hunter badge quickly before slipping it back into his pocket. "As you know, all businesses must be inspected within 3 weeks of their opening, and we're pushing this deadline to the wire." He didn't even know if that was true, but it sounded real, and that's what mattered. "If you do not mind, I wish to get started, that way you all can be free to serve your customers their wonderful pizza."

The man froze for a moment, possibly eyeing Íroas up and down, though it was impossible to tell. Finally, however, his posture relaxed, and he nodded in understanding. "Yes, the health inspector. We are up to code. Let me show you the kitchen. It is up to code." The man gestured toward the back of the restaurant, where the kitchen was located. In so doing, however, he quite literally showed his hand. It didn't take a genius to notice it, that the hand had way too many fingers, and that none of them were the appropriate size or length for this guy's hands.

Pepe, taking this as a sign that shit was about to get real, started toward the exit. "I'll leave the inspection to you, partner! I need a smoke outside very quick!" Another lie to compound Íroas's, for Pepe did not smoke.

"Do not worry, this will be a quick inspection." Íroas said confidently as he followed the man's gesture into the kitchen. 

If the front of Pepe's Pizza 2 was normal, but somewhat off, the kitchen was where things became wrong, but with a semblance of normal. The room had the general shape of a kitchen. It had the appliances, but whether they were in logical places for what they were was a coin toss. However, the apparent materials of the appliances were all wrong. An oven, for example, was not supposed to be made of wood. Nor were refrigerators traditionally made of grass. "Everything here is up to code. We make good pizza. The best pizza. Nothing compares. Two."

And then, at the back, was what looked like it was supposed to maybe be the door to the freezer. Doors were generally not made of what looked like a sort of orange, rubbery skin. A texture that Íroas, as a monster hunter, would be able to recognize. That was flesh of a mimic.

"Ah, I'm sorry, friend." Íroas stated as he rolled his shoulder. "You seemed to have made one huge mistake, one major health code violation. The book says the floor should be made of floor!" After uttering that horribly cheesy one liner, Íroas winded up before launching his right fist at the floor. His torso and hips twisted, adding even more power to the straight. His fist was like a train speeding ahead at full force as it smashed into the floor at full power.

[Chaos Sonic 443]

This was it…the moment of one of the many big scores that Neal had on his list. He stood there, staring at the same sign that John was, who seemed to just be taking long drags of his cigarette.

CLOSED
HOURS:
TUE-FRI: 7AM-11PM
SAT-MON: 8AM-9PM

“Luckily for me…I’m not using the front door.” Neal smirked, preparing to go off to round the corner and begin the heist, but John stopped him and handed him a small device.

"Do not lose this. Or else we'll both get fired, deported, and sent to prison. In that order, if we're lucky."

Neal nodded at this, only giving a small chuckle. “Quite the order to be caught in if that were the case. But don’t worry, I’ll make sure to bring this back in one piece.” he asked, remembering the  instructions he was given of the device and the inner machinations of it. Grapple hook, flashlight, flash bang, smoke grenade…all in one little device. It was a beauty of an invention and piece of work, fitting for the Gentleman Thief Arsène Beau.

"Now get in there and show me how a thief would use this thing."

“Wish me luck.” Neal gave a two fingered salute before moving off to round the corner of the museum. He pulled his mask from his pocket, adorning his face with it, removing the outer layer of clothes he had on…revealing a less baggy outfit, resembling some sort black suit. He proceeded to spin the grapple hook a bit and having it launch him up to the ledge with the greatest of ease. He looked at his watch, it showed the military time presently: 22:04. An hour and four minutes since the museum closed, so all that was to remain were the security detail for the exhibit. This would be the biggest moment he ever had to deal with…and he was planning to make every second count.

It was time.

BGM

He moved along the rooftop of the museum with the grace and agility of a cat, making his way through until he arrived at the skylight above the exhibit, seeing his prize below. You’ll be mine soon enough…now, let’s have some fun. he thought, attempting to assess the situation. From what he could see, it wasn’t too pretty. Like he saw earlier, it was a room with two levels…but what he saw this time was there were two guards. One guard was on the top floor in the back while the second guard was on the bottom/ground floor near the front wall. They were both facing the center, which meant access into the room using the doors was near impossible. Scratch that, it WAS impossible. Luckily for him, he was using the skylight. But now, this poses a new problem.

How in the hell am I going to get down to the spearhead with this layout? Beau rubbed his chin slightly. It was a conundrum for sure. Just dropping in would alert both guards, while the usage of the smoke grenade capability of the grapple hook would simply cause the guards to alert the rest of them.

The only other option was the easier one. And what was the “easier option”? Simple: a utilization of his ability “Phantom Thief”. Beau would simply “call” the spearhead to him with it, with the greatest of ease. While this was the easier option, Beau did hope to make it more grandiose than this, but alas…one had to do what they had to do.

Once he finally had his strategy, he began to dig into his bag as he pulled out a glass cutter, starting to gently cut into the skylight’s glass. Normally a thief, when doing this, would have those vacuum suction cups to keep the glass from falling and making a scene…but not this thief. For him, Beau simply used his ability to snatch the cut glass to his hand without much of an effort. I truly love my ability sometimes. he smirked. Now came the big moment. Beau slid his hand through the hole in the skylight and aimed it at the exhibit. With a deep breath, he began to concentrate. “Come on…come to your new owner, my little trinket.” he muttered softly to himself.

And just like that, by force of psychic will, the spearhead Beau so craved found itself no longer in its exhibit, as if it simply disappeared from inside. Instead, it was now in Beau's hand. The guards below seemed to be none the wiser, their line of vision on the spearhead's case blocked by other exhibits within the same room. Truly convenient. ...terrible placement for them, really. But alas, that's on them, not me.

"Like taking candy from a baby." Beau chuckled to himself, already putting the spearhead away in his bag, standing away from the skylight. "And now, we make our escape.”

Making his way from the skylight, Arsène Beau heard the dreaded sound of the alarms inside going off. He cursed under his breath, moving over towards the edge of the museum roof, to which curiosity got the better of him, he glanced over...and he was quite shocked. What he saw was another museum thief, who simply barged out the front doors with swaths of the guards following right after. This was a puzzling sight to see, as he didn't expect to see a fellow thief around here, specifically at this time of night. But, knowing this was happening gave Beau another revelation.

"That means more than likely...the cops will be making a move here soon." he muttered, already doing his best to scale off the museum building. He needed to change his outfit and rendezvous back with the now 'innocent and intrigued bystander'.

[(o ×) 228]

“Mmfm mrfumemer!!”

Sita flinched upon hearing the voice come from her pocket, but only for a moment before she was able to both put two and two together, and consider that someone small enough to fit inside her pocket wouldn't have been much of a threat in the current situation. At first she'd figured Tsurumi would just hop out of the pocket whenever, but now she had to wonder if the other girl was incapable of that. But that kind of question could be asked later. For now, Sita reached into her pocket and pulled out the little piece of paper that was Tsurumi.

"You can talk like that?" Sita asked, setting Paper Tsurumi down next to her. "You've got all sorts of tricks up your sleeve!"

“Of course I can! I wouldn’t be much good otherwise!”

Tsurumi flapped her paper wings rapidly, fluttering up to nestle in Sita's hair, just above her ear. "Keep me close, and we can throw off their count on how many of us there are. We're in the thick of it this time, we can't afford to slip up," she whispered.

"Don't have to tell me twice."

Sita reached behind her back to grab her bow... and in so doing, realized that in the rush the twins had thrown upon her, she left it back inside. With a shrug and sigh of mild annoyance, the girl got up to her feet for a better posture, and held out her hand. Above her palm, the night's moonlight gathered around in one spot, becoming a small sphere of condensed light about the size of a tennis ball. In a manner not at all unlike a pitch aimed at a target on the wall, Sita put her arm back - with a distinct upward angle this time, to account for her targets being beneath her - then lobbed the ball straight down into the fray.

"How's your pitching hand?" she asked, glancing over in Paper Tsurumi's direction.

Tsurumi could practically feel the sweat drip from her forehead, wherever it may be represented in her current form, remembering her embarrassing showing at the carnival game minutes before her and Sita’s fateful meeting. “I’ll admit, it could be better. But I have an idea.” One of the two wings that made up the majority of Tsurumi’s diminutive form unfolded back into an arm as she hopped down to rest back on Tsurumi’s shoulder. Taking hold of one of the shining spheres Sita created, she manipulated it quickly within her fingers until it was in the shape of a flatted ninja star, still glowing like the moon, small enough to fit within her palm.

“Here’s how I see things,” Tsurumi whispered, her voice suddenly much more serious than usual. “We have five enemies. Two are already engaging with our forces, and appear to be a head-on attacker, and a support caster. We have to trust our units on the ground to handle them, otherwise we will get too mixed up in the chaos.” Tsurumi’s remaining wing unfolded slightly to reveal a single silver eye peeking from within, a rare sight from one whose eyes are usually concealed. The eye’s gaze was stone cold as it focused down on the one called Shouhi Aki. “Their team can be expected to be more coordinated than our own, since this is our first real fight all together. This means our only shot is to disrupt the chain of command, and take out their leader!”

With a sharp motion, Tsurumi let loose the light-paper shuriken. It took a wide arcing path as it cut through the air, curving around the square to come at the one called Aki from an unexpected direction. When it reached a distance of only a few meters from its target, it unfolded back into the orb of moonlight that Sita had created it as, hoping to maximize damage to the enemy leader.
 

[Blake 312]

It was suicide.

No matter how Avis looked at the events unfolding before her, she had no plan for this. She had no concept of the rest of the group, but Nyx stood out, radiant in her darkness. She was capable of so much that even Avis would have trouble handling her...

How did Nyx get here? Why was she not still down there? Did this lot of zealots free her? Last she had known, Nyx was not an issue. And if Nyx was here, did that mean...

Thump.

Thump.

thum...

Avis snapped back to reality as Tsurumi's shuriken unfolded into Sita's moonlight. While it failed to completely scatter the darkness, it did cause the shadows to falter a bit. And there it was.

Rushing over at the first chance she found, without using her own abilities, she stumbled behind Sita, panting for effect.

"Keep it up! I don't think we have a chance of winning against these... assailants. We don't know enough about the rest, so our best bet is to push through the darkness and run. Do you think that's something you can do!?"

"Copy that," May nodded, turning her arms as if commanding the clay golem before her on puppet strings only she could see. On her command, the golem pressed its full weight against the wall of solid darkness behind the team, stopping its advance. "And once we're inside? Any suggestions?"

"An indoor location would be more easily fortified if they pursue us," Austin proposed, fishing into his suit and procuring a pistol from within. With not a moment's hesitation, and free of such distractions as cheesy one-liners or asking about MIRROR's plans, he immediately took aim at Aki and fired three shots. Only for the woman among MIRROR's twins to raise her hands, creating a sheet of black metal between the back line and Austin that effortlessly deflected the bullets. "Damn."

"Our best bet... is to back up the bursts of light. If she... Nyx... gets her darkness on you... you are likely done for. I can't do much, but I can inform and direct you as best I can! Just work on getting there!"

[Mr. Hyde 204]

A rather eventful day bled into a rather peaceful night, only for the sun to rise again on chaos!  The crew had been rushed out of the hotel and into the parking lot.  Agents of Mirror were on the attack now.  Stalag couldn't have hoped for a better start to the day.  

"At least they are not the cowards!  I was expecting some sort of hunt!  But they have brought the battle to us!"  Stalag prepared himself for battle, arms stretched out wide.  "I am the liking of this!"  He noticed that among the agents of Mirror was Reed, his adversary from the colosseum.  He suspected that this time, the man would not hold back his punches.  The thought of it both excited, and frightened him.  However, the man was not to be his opponent.  Instead, it was a rather small Soft-Skin female charging him.  He smirked at her advance.  She must have been at least somewhat capable if she was brazen enough to approach a Meteor-Kin on the scale of Stalag.  

"Your warrior spirit shines bright, young Soft-Skin!"  Flames started erupting from Stalag's skin in a burst of heat, cloaking his scales in radiant oranges and reds, "But the Sun outshines us all!"  Stalag still stood with his arms stretched out, ready to intercept the young lady.  

As Camille saw Stalag's body burst into flames, her advance came to a slow, though not an outright halt. She pointed her fingers toward Stalag, and the nails of her fingers grew forth, shooting forth toward her target like spears.

With the nails shot towards him, Stalag didn't so much as flinch.  Instead he smiled as the attack landed, nailing him straight in the torso.  To his surprise, the attack managed to pierce his skin.  Blood even began to drip from it.  

"Tremendous effort!"  Stalag retorted.  "However, your talons are less sharp than that of a baby raptor's big toe!  HAHA!"  With a wince, Stalag grabbed the nails that had struck him, as the fire that coated his body was now being transferred to the girls nails.  "A proper handshake between foes, yes?" 

"How savage!" Camille exclaimed at the notion of calling this a handshake. Despite her shocked tone of voice, however, her expression made it clear she not only wasn't shocked, but was reveling in this. As the flames worked their way up Camille's nails, Stalag would notice some amounts of his blood traveling along the same course. And as it reached her hands, "We need more savages in the world, I think. A handshake it is!"  As the blood finished its travels, seeping into Camille's skin, Stalag would feel his might begin to drain. Only by a small amount, however, as once she had gotten a small amount of the blood, she quickly withdrew her nails, unable to handle the heat of the Meteor-Kin's flames for much longer. "Ohh, now this is premium stuff! Might have to try to persuade you to my team after all..."

As the nails withdrew from his skin, and away from his grasp, he opened and closed his palms with a raised brow.  It felt strange to do, like he had been sapped of some of his strength.  

"Interesting.  Psychics are very interesting!"  Stalag gathered the flames that trailed up his arm into a condensed orb in his palm.  "You cannot persuade me, tiny soft-skin.  My word is my bond.  And I have given it to another."  Stalag cocked his arm back, preparing to launch the pitch of the century.  "But perhaps I could convince you to my side."  His eyes were soft.  "We do not have to be enemies."  

"How convincing! But I think a parking lot-gone-battlefield isn't the place to talk about alliegances." Satisfied that she had taken the measure of her quarry of choice, Camille leapt forth once more, literal claw and fang bared and ready to draw further blood.

"Agreed!  A fire side feast would do the trick I am thinking!"  Stalag shot his palm out, a torrent of flames erupting from the orb towards the girl.