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Lilian Rook	Paladins Board of Training Oversight Dept. Research, Strategic Theatre Oversight, Crisis Coordination Unit     [PROJECT DESIGNATION PENDING] inquiries PR, branding, design guild.      This space left intentionally blank. Please submit answers to all      relevant fields for Request of Redacted Information in order.     Your written or verbal application for Untitled Elite Study Project was among the top 0.2% of applicants, and has received full supervisional approval. In accordance with Submitted Project details, you are warmly expected at the commencement date of June 2nd(auto) We at the Paladins board of Training Oversight look forward to your help in progressing the cause of Multiversal stability!     Project Insert: You will be participating in a long-term, large scale simulation of general Elite Forces conditions, in a controlled environment temporarily constructed for the duration of the exercise, under the study administration of Chev. Lilian I. Rook. The conditions of the simulation have been carefully tailored to match conditions of 'Supervillain-Type' Elite emergency conditions in the field, scientifically reviewed and approved by a panel of experts using Paladins Elite Forces tactical data and projections.     This simulation has been designated a full immersion and live fire exercise. Safety precautions have been taken to eliminate the possibility of participant fatalities, but by attending, you express implicit consent to the possibility of injurious incident and waive liability. The details of your performance, incidentally including likeness, voice, power parameters, limited biometrics, and so on, will necessarily be included in the evaluation data.     Your privacy agreement indicates that these details will not be disclosed outside of the project research administration, and will be deleted after a period no longer than thirty days after the conclusion of the exercise. This agreement does not cover you from any other participants disclosing your activities, as no participants have signed binding Non-Disclosure Agreements.     The purpose of this study is to accurately recreate the conditions of a Single-Elite Antagonistic Paradigm Intervention Scenario ('Supervillain Conquest' Event) where a panel of Paladins experts, in cooperation with vetted external contractors, may fully study all details of the simulated crisis resolution.     The goal of this study is to better learn about the complex and poorly understood realities of crisis resolution by Elite Forces that interact with organized and actively involved Elite resistance, where factors may change from moment to moment in the field based on the interpersonal interactions between antagonistic actors and first responders, as well as to better outline the typical and habitual response behaviours and preferences of said responders.     This information will be utilized to coordinate an improved training curriculum and modernized standards of conduct for Paladins Chevaliers, as well as compiled and disclosed to our allies in the broader Multiverse as a basis upon which to build their own functional instruction. We hope that better understanding conditions in the field, within the boundaries of long-term crisis scenarios that are often rendered vague or fragmentary due to the intense privacy surrounding them, will lead to improved knowledge of how to organize and direct intervention and relief efforts, and to improve Elite safety and success rates in action.
Lilian Rook	In order to ensure maximum accuracy of our gathered data, this exercise will take place outside of Commonwealth territory, and has been planned with an immersive narrative arc, which has been used to inform the process of building and designing the scenario. This exercise will contain involvement from a number of professional actors with extensive education in civilian behaviours during crisis occupations, who have been instructed not to break character. You will not be required to keep character, but repeated and excessive failure to engage with the exercise seriously may result in your expulsion from the project.     You are permitted to leave at any time. You will not be automatically retrieved should you become incapacitated unless neglecting to do so would endanger your life. Medical and hospitality facilities will be supplied in the designated area outside the exercise range.     Insert: Chev. Lilian I. Rook: Greetings, all participants. Thank you very much for showing your interest, whatever your reasons, in the betterment of Sector Zero's understanding, advising, and regulating, of Elite crisis intervention. As you know, this project is my personal brainchild, but due to its premise, I will not be utilizing my administrative oversight if at all possible. I will be playing a critical part of the scenario, alongside a handful of hired experts of my choice.     The premise of this exercise is that you are responding to a distress call from the town of Glascail, in the kingdom of Cinniuint, unified four years ago, but not in active contact with any major power, only recently explored and documented by Warprunners. The once-prosperous free kingdom has already been taken over by your 'Villain', and placed under an oppressive regime. You have been designated the 'Heroes' in this exercise, tasked with liberating Cinniuint from the primary antagonistic actor.     You will not be graded, but you will be evaluated for your efficiency, planning, expertise, conduct, and humanitarian concern, as part of the project. All civilians are played by civilian actors, and thus are to be treated as civilians; I repeat, they are not military personnel. All active combatants are professionals. There is no set criteria for completing the exercise; this means that you are free to approach it as you wish, and rigorously assumed to be representing your natural behaviour in the field.     We understand that knowledge of the simulation will influence your responses to some degree, but please ensure that you conduct yourselves as authentically as possible. The site has been secured with magic closely in accordance with Humanity Immunes sanctioned training procedures. A locally bounded discontinuity array is in place to guarantee your survival. This persistent area ward is catalyzed by escaping life force, and responds with layered protective magics applied to individuals nearing death's door.     Please understand that you will leave with all injuries you sustained. This is to encourage you to evaluate risks seriously and pace yourselves accordingly. Any actors brought to this state will be marked as 'killed' on the record; use caution.     Keep in mind that this exercise will inclusively simulate the beliefs, foibles, and ideological dedications, of an accurately represented 'Supervillain'. The antagonistic actor's approach is inherently flawed in places. This means that I will not be taking part in crushing simulated resistance as effectively as possible; however, the simulation is not expressly designed to be successfully completed.     I hope to enjoy an informative and cooperative exercise with you all.     ---------------END BRIEFING---------------
Lilian Rook	Rather than given Warpgate coordinates, you're issued a time and place to be for transport through one of several designated artificial Warpgates of your choice, owned and operated by [registration pending] as disclosed on the frame. The odd choice can be easily put down to security; allowing people to come and go, scoping out the test area as they please from day to day, would likely harm the procedure. But it does, also, lend a sense of adventure to it all; going somewhere far out into the fringes, on no publicly available maps, for a special exercise limited to just a few.     You arrive in a sort of staging area, constituting a clean, modern building with elevators that go up to floor six, appointed with upscale-yet-modest accouterments and facilities including a medical wing and parking bay on the ground floor, lounge, bar, and dining area on the second, private lockers, diagnostic facilities, and preparation rooms on the third, private (likely to go unused) quarters to decompress or recuperate on the fourth, along with showers and a conference room, and the fifth and sixth are restricted to staff. It gives you time to chatter, coffee to drink, space to scope out the money spent on the project, and things to do other than to check the logos to see which companies are actually involved. The staff are friendly and enthusiastic, requests for autographs are occasional, a desktop computer at the check-in is open to a wikilite page, the food is tasty, the furniture is comfy, and unfortunately you have to go save the world anyways.     You actually exit via Warpgate too. Spring sunshine through the windows turns into something else, as you're deposited in a forested glade barely two hundred meters from what must be the edge of the testing grounds. Which are . . .     Frankly enormous. Any expectations of a cute little obstacle course in abandoned warehouse vapourize. Eighth code indeed; they've developed an entire small mountain valley for this; the lush, almost fantastical meadows, covered in forest glades and fields of wildflowers, dotted with mossy stone and idyllic farms, was probably untouched before now.     The forest you're in stretches for miles away from the actual test, only poking a small range over the boundary, theoretically enough to camp out and hide in. The peaks are ancient, gentled by age into softly rolling wilderness. The only one that looks imposing to climb is mostly enclosed within the exercise area, at the furthest end from you, mistily visible some miles in the distance. A wide lake draws one more boundary, a river running from it through the valley, and another, more foreboding forest in the foothills marks the remainder. None of them are strictly necessary, because you can tell that you're in the right place by the sky.     It was day where you came from, but you view the night here through a pane of shattered glass. The sky is riven with countless cracks, like sharp fragments pressed together, starlight catching in the seams, that stretch away into a vast dome over the valley. It's not enough to disadvantage magical senses, but the presence of it is unavoidable. Somewhere over the mountains, the horizon is tinged a twilight colour, but outside the shadowy forest, your surroundings are surprisingly 'easy enough' to navigate by the ambient light cast from above; by the dull red glow that suffuses the void between the stars, turning those it touches shades of purple and yellow, and casting the landscape into off-beat warm-coloured dusk.
Lilian Rook	On the far mountain, you see the distinct shape of what must be an old castle, perched on the high cliffs at the end of a winding trail. Where you'd expect to see the harvest moon, huge and bright to complete the picture, any sign of sun or moon has been completely occluded by a blaack hole singulariity that seems to hang dangerously close to earth, dominating an entire fifth of the horizon. You feel like the breeze biases towards it. Grass and leaves lean ever so subtly in. The off-coloured aurora ribbons over your head seem to either emanate from it, or are being drawn towards it.     Not far from you, along a dirt path beaten into the grass, you see the warm window lights and curling smoke of a picture perfect fantasy town. Not just 'realistic', but specially designed with just the right slightly-too-baroque glass fixtures and wrought iron gates, high-peaked roofs and statue-filled public squares. The river passes through its eastern edge, separating a fancier district up on a higher rise, sheltered by a crescent cliff that backs the classy manors separated from the streets below.     Judging by the sights and sounds of commotion; lights in the streets, human figures, ambient noise and smoke, it looks like there's an enormous town gathering in place, at the public square, before a church; windows dark. You hear the sound of bells, summoning out the folk in attendance, and can see the rows of them around a wooden stage from here.     It dimly strikes afterwards that this must be quadruple digit actors.
Aidan Proudpick	YESTERDAY By afternoon, a wooden hovel in Wonderworld lacks a roof. It crumbles on one side. The acorn tree is dead. At night, Aidan puts a calendar into the wall, jamming a pushpin into it with a forceful finality. He flips to the back of the calendar and marks a day with an X. In the morning, Aidan walks out of a cottage in a thick uncut field of wild grass, and two lively trees, ready to take on his breath capacity training. He's back in his beastman armor. Half chestplate, arm guards, leg guards, bucklers. He doesn't have his swagger, but he has his determined smile and a matching gait. And his heart BURNS. Naturally, Aidan takes the time to peer into every floor from the stairs, not out of any strategic knowledge, but just an eagerness to see everything. A glance cast around each floor, a walk down several hallways, then on to the next one. He finally ends on the second floor with a coffee only, grinning from ear to ear, tail twitching, foot bouncing. The scope of money spent and time used on such a task is completely wasted on Aidan. As he steps out of the warpgate and wanders forward, he lets out a slow whistle. He turns in a full circle several times as he walks, looking up and down at every scenic sprawl, smelling the scent of trees and hearths. Of beauty and grandeur. Once he sees the village, there is that little pang of a home forever lost. And then Aidan immediately jogs towards it. He stops about halfway as Ru Li takes command. Urgency hits Aidan's brain. He doesn't like seeing those sorts of things without knowing what's going on immediately. People to check on. To see if there's a problem. He rolls his shoulders back, straightening himself, then takes to a tree. He immediately disappears into the boughs, leaping from tree to tree with ease as he tries to look for any sort of hidden danger, doing his best to at least easedrop on the town square while still staying to the woods.
Ru Li Cheng	A partially-mechanical hand hesitates, a quill hovering over 'live fire.'      Ru Li Cheng, ninth of nine Ru Cheng gods, has already read the agreement a hundred times. Not a hundred like it - this one, a hundred times over, combing it for anything he might not like Yinghua being on the hook for. Then he was ready to sign it.      But still, those words, like a barrier, held his quill fast. It would be...insane of him. Irresponsible of him. Going into combat like this would make him a problem. A danger to himself and to others. A risk factor, not an asset. Something that needs to be defended like the civilians.      Did what he provide outweigh that? Did his battlefield inexperience but expansive sensory input, his ignorance of tactics but his expertise at strategic asset delegation, make up for his wounds? No matter what he did, he would be in danger. There was no reason to assume that anyone would avoid firing on him.      But...      But those are things only he can do.      So, with flowing handwriting and a little glowing ink, he signs the document, and wheels his way into the staging area.      The wheelchair is a bit of a difficult fit, but he manages. Excitement at the prospect of the unknown begins to push aside concern about his own well-being as the elevators rise and he takes in the building, the dining area, the lockers, the showers, the coffee, the logos, the staff. He does not provide autographs - it is against the laws of Yinghua for a god to sign any document without very explicit legal bindings - but he is happy to converse, to chat, and to wait for people to filter in.      By the time he wheels through the Warpgate, he's feeling a little better about everything.      His fingers tighten around the wheels as he pushes forward. The place is unsettling. It's artificial, but real. He's never been in a simulation of duties before, not *really* - he understands the idea but not the *truth*, not the *reality*, of it. That it's false, but true. So even if he hadn't been told to treat it like that, he would be giving orders anyway, because...he's good at that. At giving directions. At getting people where they need to go.      Except, right now, himself. He wheels his way along the grass with stubborn force until he reaches the peak he himself designated as the site of their command center. At that point, he focuses his senses on the distant town - to hear their words, to hear why they're meeting, to apply caution and planning where possible.
Kale Hearthward	> This means that I will not be taking part in crushing simulated resistance as effectively as possible Kale, sitting in the temporary base at Skyrah, looks up from the briefing at this point. "Oh no." "We're up against Lilian." --- The accommodations are excellent. The coffee's good. This is all top notch - and we have to go save the world anyways. The scale of the production hits Kale in waves. He'd already been sufficiently contented with the reception and secrecy Lilian was employing, but for the rest... He'd been expecting a few city blocks, with a couple dozen actors - even that would be a large production, right? But now this was something else. Miles of terrain, thousands of actors - an entire *village* constructed here? ... Okay. Head in the game. There's the village. There's the old castle, which... can't possibly not contain the end boss, right? So... plans? Plans that don't involve full-tilt charging at the castle, that is? That's Kale's default plan, and he's about to suggest it. Ru Li takes charge, thankfully. Kale turns his senses towards the sky. But then after a moment, he starts turning his senses elsewhere. He's trying to see if he can pick out The Supervillain amidst it all. He can't read her mind, he remembers that much, but - what he gained from Persephone goes beyond mere mind reading. He *should* be able to sense her soul. He thinks. He hasn't really tried it with her. ... And if that doesn't work, he has a couple different plan B's at the ready. Disguises to try to sneak in as a minion, his other mundane but sharp senses to find her another way, and Ishirou - who he's dragging along with him w/r/t the Buddy System. But this *should* all pay off - if they can keep tabs on The Supervillain, they can get an insight into what she's up to - and more importantly, an early warning system before she moves against anyone. Forewarned is forearmed. This all involves going closer towards the castle, likely, as he doesn't have unlimited range. But the rough terrain doesn't matter *too* much to someone who can fly. (He stays low to the ground anyway, to reduce the risk of being spotted.
Ishirou	Arriving at the test wasn't hard thanks to how easy the Paladins and Lilian made it.  Once out of the building that was set up, and towards the town itself... he was amazed at how much work she had put into this, and how much she must have spent to make everything so realistic.  He rereads the agreement, before setting out to make sure he understands everything.   Kale wanted someone to back him up to try and find the supervillain, Ru Li wanted someone with advanced sensors on the black hole-looking object in the sky.  There wasn't any reason why he couldn't do both.  Already dressed in the RESCUE suit, he summons the Flight Unit to connect to the RESCUE.   That is a set of armor that sits over the RESCUE, which is more of a power armor.  It gives him flight and access to some heavier weapon systems and allows him to keep up with Kale who is already starting their search for the supervillain.  He stays low to the ground with Kale, and instead of searching for the villain, he's using his sensors on the object in the sky, trying to figure out what it is... And just what it's going to be used for.
Odette Raskins	Even after receiving her response from the program, Odette still can't believe she was actually accepted. There has to be some kind of catch, right? Did she spell her name wrong and get someone else's spot? Maybe it was sent to the wrong address? Everything looks right on the paperwork up to and including the exact station she's on, so... Yes, this is all correct. It's a little nerve-wracking to think she'll be getting evaluated on what she does here, but knowing that there's measures in place to prevent actual deaths is reassuring to say the least. With any luck, it'll certainly help her excel in real situations that'll surely come up later, and it's an especially salient concern with what's happened in recent weeks that she's only heard about. Meeting at the transport point doesn't strike her as odd, at least, since it's just par for the course for someone that's used to taking regular shuttles to and from work. It gives her some time to decompress ahead of time, anyway, and to let her rest her eyes before she goes sight-seeing around the staging area. Food gets sampled, extra sets of clothes get dropped off in the locker area, medical wings are scoped out, and a bit of time is even spent poking around on wikelite pages at check-in. Any relaxing and decompressing she might have done doesn't help much by the time she comes out of that warpgate leading to the actual testing area, though, prompting the EMT to just stare open-mouthed at the sheer scale of everything. "Th... This had to all be here before this, right? A-and the scenario was just... Um. Set up in this place that's... Here?" Putting a gloved hand over her mouth, Odette rubs her face a few times as she takes a long look around to marvel at it all. Eventually, though, she does will herself to start heading down the dirt path indicating progress, pausing every now and then to look over at the singularity in the sky that doesn't seem to worry her as much as something that seemingly close should... At least, until she realizes she doesn't actually know if there's any evacuation vehicles close by. "Th... That thing up there must be a simulation or something, right? N-not a real...?" Odette asks to nobody in particular while her teeth chatter quietly inside her head, taking the entire time she has to get to that fantasy town just to calm herself down enough not to keep looking at the singularity. Good thing the town reminds her of something far less unpleasant: Her games! Part of her starts wondering what those external contractors might have to do with this part, but she can't let that distract her. After all, Odette's here to get an accurate evaluation and useful pointers following this exercise, not just trying to get the 'correct' answers! At least for right now, though, she doesn't really know what the questions even are. Without further information from those with better eyes and ears, Odette instead turns her focus towards triage preparations alongide Luz (and even putting that people-carrying physical conditioning to use). With a hostile occupying force, who knows how many people could be injured out of sight somewhere? Best to have a space prepared for them ahead of time.
Sarracenia	Paperwork. One of the reasons Sarraenia is not all that enthused about being completely in charge of her kingdom one day. But, she is willing to put up with it today because she is here for two main reasons.      The first is idea theft. Sarra considers this copying of her attempts to find heroes through mock kidnappings, something she did in the first few years of her Multiversal career. And Sarra is not going to let that idea theft happen without being involved in some way. There is also the possibility of Lilian having to accept that Sarra can be an effective hero, but that is more of a secondary consideration.      Sarra was in fact expecting a cute obstacle course. The last test she took part in with Lilian in charge was. But, that was a while back now. When given time to spend in the staging area, she may be one of the few that uses one of the private quarters. She uses the time to change out of her usual dress and into her battle dress as well as try and relax.      "I WANT IT ON THE RECORD THAT YOU ARE STEALING MY IDEA!! I was conducting simulated exercises to find and evaluate heroes years ago!" the princess shouts as soon as she is in an area that she is sure either Lilian will be listening or they are being recorded. Apparently the attempt at relaxing did not work. That place is the forested glade. After her outburst, she actually looks around and her eyes widen. "...sh-she...set all of this up? Or...did she find some kind of disaster conveniently able to be prepared for today?" she says aloud but not to anyone in particular. She ends up staring at that singularity. "...this is just a simulation, right?"      Having little idea of where to start, she settles on heading toward that castle. She pulls out a P-wing, which gives her a set of raccoon ears and a tail along with a flashing P on her chest. It will allow her to fly for an extended period. It also means she ends up joining Kale and Ishirou in the sky, probably to the chagrin of all three of them.
Powerpuff Girls	The Townsville 'Committee On Multiversal Excellence' had been convened as the Paladins had been recruiting experts for a simulated live fire heroism exercise. Primarily, this involved Ms. Bellum sending Blossom Utonium a message on the Townsville Teams chat (for offical business). The buzzing red phone had become a bit more modernized, but ringtones still sounded the same. Having decided the whole exercise might be worth engaging in, Blossom gave the go-ahead for Bellum to make the arrangements. That was when a certain someone, newly inducted into the Teams chat on a provisional basis only this year, decided to elbow in on participating. With the other two Puffs tied up, and Blossom deciding that 'A little enthusiasm was just what this needed,' the duo for the day was decided. #-1 INVALID ANSI DEFINITION: +yellowBlossom Utonium and Princess Morbucks arrive at the simulation area as a pair walking through the warpgate seemingly just at the end of a smalltalk conversation with the way their eyes part from each other and mouths settle closed upon passage into the concierge area. Blossom wears a soft pink top, a red hair-ribbon about her golden orange hair, a dark cherry red skirt with a black belt and gold clasp, white leggings, and black Mary Janes. Princess wears a yellow blazer jacket, a white collared shirt, a dark lilac skirt, white tights, and matching black Mary Janes. Princess accessorizes with a high-peaked tiara set with an oval ruby in the center of the golden crown. Blossom wears a pair of round edge-frameless pink lensed fashion glasses that she lifts the silver sidebar of to give the room a once over while she tucks the fashionable glasses into the collar of her top. "And are you going to be participating?" Blossom asks with a leading point to her tone, arms settling to a bicep-palming cross and lips curling in the barest of mean girl smirks. Her index finger lifts and taps with the gentle impatience of a class president, after checking in. Leaning her elbow on the counter and signing the desk attendant's letterhead with her media signature - complete with bow around the top of the L. Princess shrugs her shoulders felicitous-in-a-sunbeam, sunflower yellow blazer shoulders rising into the ginger pompom hairpuffs. "I didn't come all this way to stay at the bar and watch you while fanning myself with bills and blushing, *Blossom*." The ginger super (-heroine, today, at least on paper) declares, pantomiming doing just that with a fan of her hand. Then, that hand snakes down to her heart-shaped shoulderbag, where she draws out: a large heart-shaped black container with an aerosol spray top out of the cleft of the heart. "This will be a perfect chance to show off my Hardened Heart armor. Observe!"
Powerpuff Girls	Gripping the 'perfume bottle', Princess pushes down the plunger and sprays out a thick cloud of black mist that sticks and builds to her outfit, exiting quickly and disappearing with the stopper into the cloud. From within, a pink dot-crackle of light flashes, storms, and highlights the suit transformation. A spread of the arms, a sway to the left, a twirl to the right, and a placing of the bright pink heart at the center of her chest suddenly sucks in the cloud of armor particles and snaps the finalized black suit-layer, golden battle-dress with black corset-belt. Shifting black-gloved hands through her pom-pom puff ginger hair and knocking out some pink sparkles in a clearly-considered cloak-shower, the ginger-haired super strikes a pose and grins. 'So? So?' Her eyes hopefully ask the crowd, though she'd *never* lower herself to actually asking. "The bottle is nice. Is it a new model?" Blossom asks, politely. "I'm *so* glad you noticed." Princess purrs quickly, and Blossom can't help but puff with a little composure-breaking 'c-cute?' surprised laughter. When it's time to deploy, the pair cut their warm pre-mission antics and head through the deployment gate, and Blossom flies up into the air trailing a ruby wash of light. Her senses sharpen, focusing particularly on the sound or performance of danger - or the emotionality of it. With Ru Li scanning and using his normal senses, the red Puff focuses on her feelings -- before zipping off in a SKRR! of supervelocitous movement to catch up with Sougo. Meanwhile, the armor-suited Princess Morbucks walks over to the clearly-partipating but clearly-freaking medics preparing triage items. "If someone gets hurt, or once Blossom finds people, I'll fly you right there -- then you can see exactly how incredible I am!" She preens, while still hanging out as a bright golden protector over the preparing healers. If Princess was the villain, the first thing *she* would do in a case like this, all-against-her, would be to play dirty.
Lilian Rook	----------???----------     Meanwhile, somewhere else the sweeping panorama of the starlit dusk valley casts its warm glow and long shadows from the face of viewing screens bordering on a private theatre. Picture-in-picture divides up the flanking edges, stacked atop one another with changing, security camera-like rotating footage, while the main screen, curved enough to look left and right across, overlooks the village from somewhere both close and high. Given the angle, the deliberate inclusion of the forest edge would instantly show any sign of Elites descending to the path, but for now, the feed is trained exclusively on the muted cloaks and cowls of townsfolk out in the streets and the pacing of a man in luxurious robes back and forth across the stage, reading from a roll of names.     The faces in the crowd, even without a single test-taker to be seen, are a fantastic mixture of worried, nervous, placid, and excited, whether scruffy huntsman or immaculately made-up shop-owner. The audio is reduced to a near-muted hum, for the time being. It allows the acoustics of the darkened viewing room to serve private conversation. Arranged like an upscale bar, only a handful of seats are occupied; and only a handful need to be. Headphones, computer and paper space, armrests, and drinks of all varieties, are provided at the slightest whim, hurried in by nervously silent staff in black uniforms, who bow and hustle away again as soon as permitted. The atmosphere only lacks black ties and a shadowed figure at the head of a table. The one that exists could have been ill-gotten mahogany, but even worse, most of its face is a touch-responsive digital map of the area, exaggerating the number of empty chairs.     "I've received confirmation that they've entered the testing grounds. You can check the list of names on your provided pads." comes a voice from a room somewhere close by, up the shade-drenched stairs into an acoustic corridor. "I've selected them myself. I should hope you'll find them a most entertaining crowd." Even without, the names, affiliations, and ID headshots of each Elite winks into existence along the table and main screen, the former clickable with bios and added 'fitness for duty' ratings. "It's a shame that one or two of my favourites will be injured, but that's the reality of our work. Wouldn't you agree?"     Staff scurry to and fro from the back area in a constant trickle. Ominous noise is just recognizable as the clatter of coat hangers and hiss of spray bottles, gently clattering glassware and jingling buttons included. A blinking green light from a side room goes off, and a woman's head pokes around the corner, leaning out of the open doorway to see the screen. "Ah, they're already moving?" is more recognizable with less echo. Looking away sharply, the muffled sounds of "Couldn't you hurry up a little? You got the sort I asked for, didn't you? I'm not cutting my nails short." can be heard.
Rowdyruff Boys	Brick Jojo is here because he's vaguely interested in the entire concept at play, and because he's playing back-up to Blossom and Princess. Unusually, he's the only one of the Rowdyruff Boys actually present, though he notably submits paperwork for another-- Boomer. There's an additional appended document pertaining to image rights because the Powerpuff Girls and Rowdyruff Boys actually have their image rights on lockdown; they've provided some reasonably-recent photographs in civilian clothes, but they have the money to spend on actual agents and lawyers and nobody gets carte blanche to do much of anything with their images. Long story short, they don't care about the documentation. There's just already a lot of merchandising and privacy actions in play. Boomer will be here-- he'll just be late. Sometimes you can't actually keep people on-schedule, especially if those people are one of your siblings. A note is included among the paperwork to indicate as much. Today, Brick Jojo is dressed... not to motif. He's in pretty normal jeans and a white t-shirt with a dark hoodie. Doesn't do to dress like people expect you to when you have a pattern. He immediately takes off in a slightly desynchronized pattern with Sougo and Blossom, trailing behind them at ground level -- deliberately more than a hair too slow -- and... tries to talk to the wildlife, if there's any around. He's trying to figure out what sort of surveillance exists 'all around', and as somebody who uses animals as a surveillance tool himself, that's the first thing he's checking.
Phantom Thieves	AUTOBOTS SYMBOL -> DECEPTICON SYMBOL "Damn, you went all out." That's Limelight, hanging out at the Villain Viewing Area, calling up towards the first person who spoke. She's been all over the area, poking at things, bringing up alternate camera angles, and generally being a passive nuisance. "Is it *really* okay for us to see all of this info?" that's Stagehand, who by contrast has taken a seat the moment he arrived, and hasn't moved from it. "Ahh - it's all fine, I don't know what exactly we'd gain from..." Limelight glances at one of the monitors, and then double-takes at it. "Petra Soroka's date of birth? Actually that might be pretty useful." She sits back down, finally. "So! You think they're gonna go stumble right into the meeting and mess things up right away, or what? And odds that they're gonna get the peaceful little village wiped out by making it a target?" "Fantasy starter villages *always* get wiped out," she adds, with the surety of someone stating a fact. "Dramatically, while the heroes are away seeing to something else. That way they can come back and swear revenge and all that. It's great pathos. Kinda makes me wish I'd decided to try my hand at Evil Overlording instead of Evil Thiefery."
Timespace Riders	STAGING AREA...     "Whoa," says Sougo, coming out of the elevator to the second floor. Ogling the upscale lounge, he takes a seat on a very comfortable looking couch--well, falls into it, practically. It's the kind for which that approach seems particularly apt. "Look at this place! It's got everything," he marvels.     "Indeed," says Woz, eyeing the desktop computer warily. 'I know who you are,' his look seems to say.
Timespace Riders	TESTING GROUNDS...     Those are a much different story for the retainer. "The location. The singularity. The visual style of the town... the actors! What marvelous attention to detail!"     "Haha! I know, right?" asks Sougo. "Oh, but... I think we should be 'in character now,' right?"     "Of course, sire." smiles Woz.     Sougo's penchant for hiking boots proves to his advantage out here-- at least, until the plan is made and he can stop walking.     "Okay..." Sougo's 'serious face' is on, after an effortful moment. "Working with the Company... this is sort of like that, right? Knowing where we're the most helpful." He nods to himself. "Ru Li said he needs someone in the air to cover people on the ground. Fourze is perfect for that. Would you mind taking an up-close look at the town? You can get there faster than me."     Woz pauses along the winding trail, and nods, hand over his heart. As his head rises, he flings his scarf outwards, the grey fabric impossibly expanding, collapsing on his position and leaving empty air in his place. He reappears on the outskirts of town, the garment coming to a rest in a different position--that of a traveler's shawl, a hood to shade his eyes. He moves purposefully through rows of picturesque houses, simultaneously appearing as though he has important business and using their shapes to break up sight lines between himself and the gathering point, as he works his way gradually closer to it.     Sougo, meanwhile, places his belt, the bulky white TIMESPACE DRIVER on, a silver band spooling around his waist to fasten it. Two futuristic pocketwatches--one, the black-gold half of the twinned Zi-O II Ridewatch, the other, an orange and black Ridewatch. The latter bears on its face the helmet of a Kamen Rider, itself resembling a space shuttle in profile and color. Both are slotted in, and the belt is spun. "Henshin!"                                   ARMOR TIME!                                       A disembodied suit of armor emerges from a pink portal that appears before the knightly, symmetrical Kamen Rider Zi-O. White with orange trim, its board-stiff posture and aerodynamic shape give the appearance of a space shuttle. It takes off, rocketing towards Zi-O, breaking apart and snapping into place over him.                        Three! Two! One! o/` Fooourze! o/`                            "Let's have a stellar time!" Fourze never said that. The knightly theming of Zi-O's armor is shifted towards one of space exploration, the two pairs of minute-hour hands resembling the urgently bobbing needles of instrument gauges. Black thrusters and orange fuel tanks at the legs give hints of a shuttle, and prove to be more than decorative when Zi-O takes to the sky like a comet in reverse. Rising on jets of flame, he takes note of the layout of the town from above, intending to spot potential choke points and places to cover retreats, all of it taken in by his orange katakana lenses reading 'RIDER.'      "Hey, Blossom!" says the Rider, waving. "Good to work with you again. You fly more than me--is there something I should be looking for besides just hangups and good funnels and stuff?"
Ivy Carrow	"Look, Alex, Alex!...She used our name!" Ivy practically bounced up and down, while her vice-captain looked over her shoulder, bemused.     "She did, didn't she...?" They read over her shoulder, bemused, one hand on her opposite shoulder. "You made an impression on her. Elites really are your people..."     "Our people!" She interjected in good-natured chiding. "You can't pretend to be normal forever!"     "Can't I?" A squeeze, a slow, wry smile. "This would make for amazing training, wouldn't it?"     Ivy's grin was wide, practically WICKED. "Round up the runners. A world we found is under seige~" She elbowed Alex in the side, setting the paper down. "We can't just take that sitting down, can we?"                                          ,|     Ivy stand looking out over the valley, the city constructed out of the ground, the empty sky, dominated by black. She squeaks out a long eeeeeeeeeeeeee noise, hands clapped over her mouth, shifting from foot to foot.     The rest of her runners' reactions are a little different. Her Vice-captain stares, grimly at the sky. Luz tests the edge of her machette. While Nina's gaze snaps rapidly between the city and the paper in her hand, clinging to any kind of reassurance that she had that this was just a simulation.
Ivy Carrow	Ivy slapped at her cheeks, giggling softly to herself, before her hands fell to her side. For a moment, she was still. Then, she turned on her heels, eyes sharp. "Runners!"     Eyes swung toward her.     "This may be a simulation, but I want you at your BEST. What we have is an opportunity..." She raised her hand toward the great black mass where the moon should be. "No one will die today. No lasting harm will be done today. You can try everything..."     "...And you must." Ivy began to pace. "The elites of the multiverse..." Including the most important one. "...Are watching. This could decide whether we are trusted or disregarded. The reputation of our little home between worlds may ride on it. We're going to get in there, and show them what our branch is made of..."     "...But, most importantly?" A grin, somehow sharper than a scowl. "Have fun."     "Luz, you're with the triage team. I want fortifications set up to keep our wounded safe. Use your discretion. Make it defensible."     "Yes, Gate-Captain."     "Nina, I want you on the radio. Take a handful of runners to wherever we find wounded, and bring them to triage."     "A-aye..."     "Vice-Captain, you're with me. We'll be with Ru Li until fighting breaks out."     Holes open in the world, and the Warprunners each step through.     Ivy and Alex step through another such hole, meeting Ru-Li on the summit. "We'll be establishing our base of operations," he said, while Ivy stepped forward, closed her eyes, and rose her hands, in a manner not dissimilar to a conductor.     The mountain quivered. The mountain lurched. Rippled once, like water, momentarily smoothing out its edges. It pinched upward and around, like clay, like a river flowing upward. Flowing stone partitioned into square bricks. Flowing, smooth edges suddenly jutted out into stairwells. Stone coiled around and up into high spires.     The result was a fortress of high arches and great towers, curling around the upper third of the mountain like a great, brick snake, with Ru Li, Alex and Ivy standing at the zenith, from its tallest peak, staring out over the city from a great window, closed with steel bars.     Ivy falls to one knee, clasping a hand over her eyes, breathing hard.     While the mountain roils, Luz's hand is outtretched, coaxing the reforming stone into rooms carved into the depths of the mountain to suit their triage needs, shaping the already in-flux stone into vine-covered doorways, moss-covered floors, and rows upon rows of beds for dozens and dozens of would-be-wounded. "Nina's role is to get the wounded here." Luz tells Odette, voice tight with focus. "She'll get them here, or she'll get the others to help."
Bowser	"No. No tablet time yet. You gotta do your letters first. Yea. Yea, I know. But you are doing so great at them, it'll be easy! Hold on, daddy's at a business thing. I love you, too." Bowser carefully flips a tiny(normal sized) flip phone closed and tosses it behind his shoulder. A goomba catches it in his teeth. Along with him today are a Pokey, those cacti that are actually just several balls stacked up against, each other, a koopa holding a pad of paper, extra pencils, and a goomba. Each minion also has a double, just in case. Bowser has that swagger. He's one of the OG. The cream of the crop. The one people talk about. Ten feet off murder level designing MEAT AND BONE(probably). Kammy's also there or whatever. Several Boos float a throne in through the wall, which stops at least in a place in the watching room that doesn't obstruct the view. Bowser has villain solidarity. Bowser picks up a tiny tablet, "Santa's helper... Ugh, the princess is here?" He doesn't seem to recognize anyone else. "Girl voice is right! You gotta launch fireballs at the city, let them know you mean business." He squints down at the camera, "What's this city anyways? There's no snow or candy or pumpkins or anything!" He reaches out, receiving popcorn in one hand, pulling it close. "Maybe it's a fantasy city. Hope there's a big dragon or somethin'." He says, close to disappointment. "They aren't even running in! The heroes always charge in, what's this garbage. This is why you throw fireballs at the city."
Petra Soroka	This all makes sense. Lilian is hosting a mock supervillain study to improve the skills of the heroes she deems insufficient, going all in on the dramatic villainous flair, indulging in what is possibly the most apt use of the term kayfabe. The aesthetics, the outfit, the set dressing and latent smug cruelty infused within it all, exactly as evil and domineering as Petra was always so obviously weak to. Even just a couple weeks ago, during the final push to liberate Quicknest from Petra's control, she invited Lilian to watch and practically kneeled at her feet to perform as her lieutenant despite being literally the supervillain nominally in charge.     So she's a shoe-in for being some sort of live experience advisor on the supervillainy end of the study, right? Few designated supervillains in the Sector would be willing to work with the Paladins-- more than zero, certainly, but none as eagerly as Petra, and with such a pristinely perfect showing of her abilities and technique just recently, the team could hardly ask for better assistance. One can imagine Petra jumping at the opportunity to play the role of dark general or snotty miniboss, giving her amateur input on gauntlet design, preening like an unpleasant guard dog beside a black-gold throne.     ... So why is she signed up as a *hero*?     There's a passive leakiness radiating off of Petra during the time that the Elites are left to their own devices within the staging building. The sheer scale of it seems to inspire some low-grade temper tantrum in her, diligently (poorly) suppressed with pouts at the restricted access, and maybe a little too-desperate inquiries into the details of the diagnostics being taken and the particular scientific rigor of the exercise. Obviously she feels owed some higher level of involvement with the structure of the project than the rest, but the apprentice supervillain is shuffled along into the same rooms as the heroes regardless. During the waiting period, though, she pulls aside Cinder into the otherwise unoccupied lounge, sitting on the edge of a booth table all the way in the shadowy back corner.     "You know, I feel like, like, I *have* proven that I can be good at this, right? Like, I'll never say that Lilian isn't better than me at all the theater and everything, but I've got *input*; I can be *useful* for it." Petra swirls around her yellow, ginger-scented mocktail petulantly, then takes a sip through the paper straw and coughs.     "But it's fine. You know, like, it's fine. I'll just get my head in the game and do the role Lilian asked of me. You won't tell anyone, right?" "This will be a perfect chance to show off my Hardened Heart armor. Observe!"     Petra, slipping back into the populated zones of the staging zone, catches Princess's new armor demonstration in the concierge area. Raising up a hand for a wave to the yellow-- and then much more awkwardly to the red, Petra smirks a bit at the clear expectation of praise and intentionally, magnanimously, indulges.     "Hey, that's a ton of thought put into the actual transformation sequence. You're here as a participant, right? Me too, despite, uh, everything." Yellow-supervillain-turned-occasional-heroine to yellow-supervillain-turned-occasional-heroine communication aside, Petra gets a little jealous over having *updated* transformations. Making your own greebles seems like such a good gig.
Petra Soroka	Petra is back to wearing her bomber jacket, appropriate in the sunless valley. A series of emotions flicker across her face at the sight of the ominous castle backlit by a dead star, from the expected swooning at the-- admittedly evil-- vista, the effort put in, other feelings of fondness when taking in the picturesque nature of the village and knowing how much of a direct hand Lilian must have had in insisting on the details of it. It all ends up tinged with sourness though, hardening into pouty determination, and Petra shoves her hands into her jacket pockets and steps forwards to the edge of the incline downwards. "I WANT IT ON THE RECORD THAT YOU ARE STEALING MY IDEA!! I was conducting simulated exercises to find and evaluate heroes years ago!"     "Did you, like, read it? The papers?" Being mean to Sarracenia so soon after their earlier meeting is obviously conflicting for Petra, but-- she really can't help it, when the princess keeps acting like that. "She's not setting up an elaborate fucking profile on Gr-- on a dating app. This is a *study*, not of *us*, but of techniques for crisis response to a supervillain for getting people trained later. So she's not looking for anything in particular in you, just how you react to whatever *challenges* are put in the way." <J-IC-Scene> Petra Soroka says, "I think, like, you're missing something obvious, Ru Li." <J-IC-Scene> Petra Soroka says, "It's not *just* constructed because it's a simulation, you know. It's-- I mean, like, supervillainy is an intentional performance." <J-IC-Scene> Petra Soroka says, "The meeting is being called right when we show up because it's meant to happen right when we show up. So I'm just going to go with Woz over there." <J-IC-Scene> Ru Li Cheng, very awkwardly, says, "...I...s-suppose you are the expert in the matter." <J-IC-Scene> Ru Li Cheng says, "Well, at least as far as I know...erm, no, that is not relevant. Just...be careful, and try not to disrupt the meeting until we know what the townsfolk want?" <J-IC-Scene> Petra Soroka says smugly, "You got it."     Petra quietly curses her choice to not dress up properly for the fantasy down as she descends down the path to it, behind Woz. Not so much for the purposes of stealth, because Petra wouldn't blend in regardless, but because it feels wrong to sully the aesthetics with her grungy tomboy presence. After a minute of walking, Petra's mind has fully wandered to thinking about Lilian in the indulgently on-point adventuring cloak that she wore to Lycia, and how well the environment suits her. Petra needs to outfit match a *little* bit, right? It's practically *disrespectful* of her not to, and it makes her look like she doesn't *belong* beside her. But what kind of clothing...? Her mind wanders to visions of armor, quickly-rejected period-appropriate dresses, cloaks, well-worn stablehand tunics held up by leather harnesses, right up until she smacks face-first into the side of a house.     "Ow... fuck...." Petra whines quietly to herself, scuttling the rest of the way to join and listen in on the town meeting.
Angela	Cinder isn't sure she's really good at planning. She does see herself as fairly humanitarian, is depressingly anxious about her conduct, and the moment she becomes confident about her expertise is the moment she will stop being a cool badass and immediately trip over her own feet. Of course, she's not REALLY an elite. She has a sword on fire that she can sort of use as an improvised propellant. She whistles faintly at seeing the fantasy town. How much has Lilian spent on this enterprise? She can only imagine. On her mind! Is Yuri. She is trying to evict her but she can't really manage it. This is her oldest friend, after all. But by the same token, it is hard for her to imagine Yuri not talking to her about all these problems she's been having. And hard for her to imagine not doing so being the action a friend would take. She honestly ISN'T looking forward to being tested, exactly. She thinks very highly of The DAme Commander, of course, like any other Agent but that's part of the problem--she'd be evaluated by someone whose just so much cooler than her that she doubts even her best could measure up. She reaches for a cigarette before remembering that Lilian doesn't like cigarettes but it has already gotten into her hand so she kind of spins it around her fingers. She doesn't volunteer for a leadersip role for obvious reasons. She'd probably throw up from the anxiety of such a role. MEANWHILE The Eggpack is seated in one of the seats provided. Angela identifies as a villain and will say she's a villain to anybody who asks her and she is totally going to learn about villainy from the greats and provide insightful villain commentary. This s her plan. Someone like her has to be a villain after all. Villains, in stories, may be sympathetic but they are always people like her. People who will do anything for their goal, however sympathetic. So this is where she should be. And a sweet creampuff like Cinder should be down below with the others. ...There's so many but she is a very smart and cool AI that can keep track of everything that is going on. Yes, she won't miss a thing. ... ... Okay, well, it's certainly not exciting for her to watch something for an eternity so she might zone out anyway. Or close her eyes if it's particularly horrific. ''But that's the reality of our work. Wouldn't you agree?'' "It is a shame." Angela says, completely sincerely (she IS an AI that can lie though so can one really be sure?). She lifts a glass of champagne with one hand just to listen to the bubblies and writes on the paper with her other hand. ...Actually it's a little doodle of Sougo and Woz hifiving. A little word balloon comes out of Sougo showing a chicken showing their front leg below the knee. What could that possibly be? ...Oh right. A hen shin. "Why would you cut your nails short?" She asks, taking focus of her own nails for the first time in her life. They've been designed to be long enough that sometimes when she's typing they get away in the keys and occassionally they chip and she has to get replacements out of the supplies but she never particularly dwelled onto them all that much.
Angela	CINDER Cinder approaches the town. She frowns and hides Fourth Match Flame into a scabbard, figuring--fantasy town, people with swords shouldn't be too out of place. No need to tell the 'villains' she's even there to get in the way, she reasons. There's plenty of people in the town so it makes sense if she angles that way to see what this gathering is about and listen in to the town meeting, following Petra in the process even if this is something she'd normally do even if Petra wasn't joining in here. "There's so many people here." Cinder says, "Even compared to normal. You might be right." She asides to Petra, on the matter of people liking being tested. She can't hide her fourth match flame EGO Armor but that just looks like a fancy suit so hhopefully she can still play it off. "I guess it's better to be patient about how we move in since... Lilian's not gonna just make a test we can throw ourselves face first at." ANGELA AGAIN Angela nods in silent agreement with Bowser. SHe hopes they hurry and get on with it, though her reasons are significantly different.
Lilian Rook	The forest along the valley's edge is old. Aidan isn't equipped to sense anything magical about it, but he might make an inference or two about suspicious tree-branch arches and stone circles, here and there. Wild animals go quiet as he passes; more than once he sees the gleaming eyes of a wolf, or hears the crash of a bounding deer. The most common bird by far is crows. It takes some exploring to verify that there's no particular signs of traps or monsters, but around the time he'd want to come back, he finds an area that shows signs of woodcutting and foraging. Materials sourced on-site, maybe.     Kale's short-ranged scouting tells him a little bit already. The town is surprisingly large, and probably in Lilian's notoriously insane obsession with authenticity and 'going all-out', his civil planning brain actually tells him that the entire thing is viable. Not optimal, like he'd build, but clearly more than a wikipedia search went into setting it up. People could live here. Additionally, he spots signs of small villages and hamlets all around the valley, probably doubling or tripling the supposed population of the region, but it's unlikely those are being actively inhabited right now, as they're tucked in scenic places away from the main route.     The distance to the mountain is deceptive. It'd take all day to get there and back by relaxed carriage ride, though likely less than two hours at his top speed. The limit of Persephone's powers becomes obvious to him when he focuses his senses on the castle, however, as the massive building contains the mingled residue of yet hundreds of intelligent beings. From this distance, there's no way at all he could tell them apart; it'd be like trying to read a book from down the block. It does already tell him that it's more than a mere setpiece, however. His search and rescue training bothers him with little hints that parts of the countryside have been recently foraged. The roads look surprisingly well-used.     Ishirou's analysis of the black hole is concerning for one reason: All his readings tell him that it actually is one. A distortion of that tremendous size should have turned him into a near-light string of subatomic particles along with everyone else by now, so it's either being faked incredibly well, or safely contained for the sake of sheer theatre; or to be used at some later time. Given there aren't any signs of magic, Lilian couldn't have made it, but something feels naggingly relevant. Some forgotten detail or trivia.     The red-orange corona it gives off feels instinctively ominous. Like a bloody hole punched through the sky. The stars crackle magenta nearby it. One hundred points for aesthetic, at least.     Kale, Ishirou, and Sarracenia forming up draws attention. A v-formation of hard-to-see birds starts to tail them as they go, taking their migration as some sort of sign perhaps, or just curious-- or territorial-- of the invasion in their airspace. No one has tried to shoot them yet, but it does seem like they must visibly stand out being the only things in the sky, and not terribly stealthy about it.     What Ru Li and Blossom see and hear of the town is more notable. The lights are on in almost every house, with few blinds drawn to compensate. People trickle in from the dirt roads to the flagstone mains from surrounding farms, on foot or riding horses. Shops and inns appear to be excluded, still operating despite the commotion. The church-- more of a tiny gothic cathedral-- hasn't seen use in a while. It's doors are barred, and a notice put up. Sight and sound of dogs and alley cats, field mice, grass snakes, blackbirds, crows, hares, and so on, seem to fear the streets particularly little, given ample green and dirt compared to a modern city. It almost seems like even they happen to be watching.
Lilian Rook	Up close, Sougo and Blossom can tell the wooden stage is clearly a repeatedly assembled fixture, three notches up from gallows and one notch down from theatre-grade. The man pacing around on it wears fine furs and finer shoes, and is visibly accustomed to the presence of a retinue of armed guards flanking the stage. Clad in dark, earth-coloured armour, swathed in green and grey livery with no emblems, their faceless soldier atmosphere is cranked up for how little restlessness they show. Though they're armed only with fine shields and spears of dark wood with silver bands, Ru Li is the one left to be more unsettled by the lack of little cues; coughing, murmuring, yawning, stretching, coming from any of them.     Near the stage is a covered wagon, tended by a finely dressed driver minding two black horses, unloaded. Its purpose seems obvious enough, when the stageman gets past "-as of two-weeks prior-" and "-deficit to be paid due-", and then begins reading names. Each one comes with a wave of tension rippling through the crowd. Dead silence from few, and sighs of guilty relief from more. One by one, townsfolk separate from the crowd. With all in their night cloaks, it's hard to tell them apart, but the men chosen are young and fit, and the women look accustomed to counters and fabrics, not farm labour. Where they reluctantly board the wagon, there are glimpses of colourful clothing; not the drab roughspun of the poor.     One name causes a shout, and a localized stir. A young blonde woman is causing a commotion, yelling and thrashing away from the people around her. The crowd parts awkwardly, trying not to stay anywhere near her, while an old man tries and fails to calm her down. Two of the armed guards begin to stride towards her, and the townsfolk cast down their gazes and shuffle away. The man on the stage barely looks at her over his ledger.     A secondary commotion passes over the crowd as, in the forest, distant enough to be too far, but close enough to be uncomfortable, an entire second castle seemingly sprouts from the ground. The rumble can be felt even in town. The calls of disturbed bird flocks rising into the air arrive a little later. Those near the back of the crowd pull shoulders, point and look and whisper, and heads poke out of lit windows, but none dare actually try to slip away. It isn't even that long before a falcon is resting near Ru Li's observatory.     A falcon is safe. Brick surveying the wildlife finds that they have little interesting to say, save anxiety about the unclear boundary of day and night, in their instinctual way. Cats are safe. Mice are safe. Snakes are safe.     Crows. Only the crows refuse to answer him.     Petra's collision with a nearby wall has a middle-aged brunette come hurrying over to her, clutching an empty basket. Hand on her shoulder, she looks worriedly into Petra's eyes on a level that seems too intense to just be worried for her health. "Dear, what are you doing?" she says, in an immaculately rustic accent, tinged with hand-wringing anxiety. "Aren't you late? No, no, do you need to see a surgeon? If you aren't well . . ." The stranger takes a deep breath, looks up at the rooftops, then leans close to speak to her in lower tones, "But you know dear, they'll know if you're pretending. You look like your still have your wits about you. You should know well enough the tribute isn't random. Best not to stand out."
Lilian Rook	----------VIEWING LOUNGE----------     'Damn, you went all out.'     "Thou shalt use the fullest of thy competence at all times, and thou shalt demand the fullest. Thou shalt not accept substitutes, imitations, or shortcuts, from thyself or any other." comes the voice from the back room, casual on the verge of being frighteningly so; in doing, making the speaker unambiguous. "Of course it's fine. You're not about to rush out there and help the heroes, are you? I know you're famous thieves, but stealing props from a stage production put on just for you seems far too unclassy for you."     'It's great pathos. Kinda makes me wish I'd decided to try my hand at Evil Overlording instead of Evil Thiefery.'     "I'll tell you how it goes." comes the dry-humour reply. Then "Watch it!" to someone offscreen. "What are these measurements? This isn't like before." Then back to Stagehand. "It can't be too linear, you know. But with these people . . . Well, it was difficult to resist the temptation to have some 'Eye of Sauron' that would shoot them down the instant they ignore the townspeople and gun straight for the highest tower to enact a massacre." she says. "Well, hopefully they figure out why they shouldn't. It'd be boring if it ended so quickly. And Persephone would be disappointed."     Sarracenia's shouting from the screen is what toggles the audio on full; hero dialogue triggered. Lilian bursts out laughing from the corridor.     'They aren't even running in! The heroes always charge in, what's this garbage. This is why you throw fireballs at the city.'     "Patience, patience. First they have to learn what the villain is doing. Don't you agree, King Bowser?" A hand peeks out into the corridor and wiggle-waves at him. "You don't throw fireballs at the kingdom before you declare that you've kidnapped the Princess, do you? Otherwise they'll just huff and puff up to you for burning things, and not even know the stakes." she says. "Oh, and the theme is a surprise."     'Why would you cut your nails short?     "Gloves." comes a sigh from the other room. "I don't keep them all that long in the first place, given it'd interfere with my work if I did, but filed down to the fingertip is just too boyish, don't you think?" Huffily, she shouts back into the room "We finished up with Tamamo an hour ago! Why are you being so weird?!"
Powerpuff Girls	BEFORE TAKEOFF, Blossom spares a moment before heading out for her fan, as she always does for all her fans, and offers a tight professional smile to Petra in passing. Despite being the ruby red, Blossom's immaculate class president Ice-type poise doesn't allow for the mercy of more. Blossom had asked Petra to talk to her, to do something for her. And it had not happened. So now, they were professional allies of operational convenience. Selected for their special skills. Princess Morbucks on the other hand, in a passionately honest good mood, waves back with a black-gloved hand that she raises to be seen over the crowd. Petra's approach, smirk, and indulgence feed right into the super-heiress' hand bringing in, to flourishingly touch the large pink jewel-heart center-high on her chest. "*Thank* you for noticing. Despite nothing, I bet - you're here to show off," And the ginger lifts one eyebrow and looks to the portal-departing red. "-for yourself, too." Morbucks observes, offers a warmly smug-knowing smirk back, and carries on to deploy to the medical prep area. SOMEWHERE ELSE, DARK AS MIDNIGHT, A slender, short shoujo figure with healthily-paled skin a tone of peach marble draped in a butterfly gossamer dress of lace and ribbons and bows and a fashionable bolero, wearing only jewelry of thorn-spiked silver that pressed to unpierced flesh affectionately-tight. Two anklets, that curl into the support for slender ribbon-tied heels, and a large rose over her right ear curls with a stem about her ear and down her neck. As she speaks, underneath a butterflied iridescent-blue and deep black masquerade mask, a pale and black-nailed finger flicks up and down the list and pauses at a few names, special people, participants. The pair of Sougo and Woz draw this observer's special interest as she lounges in a shameless chair sidesprawl. Despite her highlight color, she isn't Blossom, voice a darling-gentle thoughtful breath-tone. "You've prepared so carefully, that I disagree with Bowser-" Kuran Yuuki, the Director of the Concord and Queen of Vampires decides after a moment, and an apologetically fanged smile towards the Koopa King. "-it's important to build up the feelings, the suspense. If you start with the fireballs, they have something to fight quickly. I think building anxiety creates much better tension." Like appreciating a monster movie, the Director reaches for her silent butler delivered glass of 'red wine', swirling the crystal under her nose and smiling with an 'oh, you shouldn't have' amusement before taking an appreciative sip.
Timespace Riders	ELSEWHERE... It's a shame that one or two of my favourites will be injured, but that's the reality of our work. Wouldn't you agree?     "Some of mine, too," says an older man in kingly silks. A sash reminescent of those worn by southeast Asian royalty cuts a daring golden line across a black jacket, itself having a striking white portion from the shoulders up, set in a floral pattern. His graying hair somehow frames his face in a familiar way, though much of it is obscured by the pad he studiously observes. "But of course I agree. There are some things that are better teachers than most people will, or want to, realize."     His voice is gravelly, neither booming nor quiet but steadily certain.     Fantasy starter villages *always* get wiped out. Dramatically, while the heroes are away seeing to something else.     "It's giving starter village for you?" asks the older man, uncharacteristically contemporary in his wording despite his dress and his gravity. That, frankly, might be familiar, too. "Interesting. I'll agree that the level of effort is impressive. Not any less so from this side."     He is studiously taking notes. He's also drown simplistic renderings of a lobster and a fish in the margins. One is labeled 'lob' and the other 'carp.' Lob Carp. THE EXERCISE...     Petra's collision is as much a blessing for Woz as it is an urgent need to slip away. Noise means attention, yes, but you can turn it to your advantage. He rounds the corner of the nearest street as if he meant to, but presses himself against the closest wall and listens to the voice of concern he'd heard during his retreat.     Tribute? To whom, for what, delivered where? He cracks open his book and reads through it.     Zi-O, meanwhile, swivels his helmet over to Blossom. "A lot of guards... and a lot of people looking like they'd rather be somewhere else. But it doesn't look... 'new,' does it?" he returns his gaze to the commotion when it rises up.     Those men on the stage...Mr. Tokiwa, Ms. Utonium...they are not making any ambient noises. No actor simply stands completely still, without yawns or stretches or motions.     "Okay... I guess we don't have much choice. If they're not... doing any of that, then I don't know if we can really 'scare' them. Or if we can count on them fighting like... people who do those things. I guess we'll have to corral them away from the villagers some other way. Like... that guy! He looks important. I'm gonna Fourze all over him!"     Thrusters flare up as Zi-O divebombs the stage, intending to snatch the list out of the hands of the man up on stage, and very likely bowl him over in the process. He makes two passes--once, for the act, and a second time just for the sake of getting attention on him. Away from the villagers.
Ru Li Cheng	"Thank you, Princess Morbucks," Ru Li says politely, lowering his head, "I have no doubt your skills will be greatly useful." He wheels slightly aside for her. "I imagine that we can set up a proper area he-"      Alex shows up with Ivy and establishes the base of operations. It cuts off whatever the Yinghua god was going to say entirely as a full fortress rises around them. He's about to say something about wheelchair accessibility in this sudden observatory, just to *process* what's happening, when he notices the soldiers.      They don't move. People have habits, little habits, little *tells* that say they are alive. Even the staunchest soldiers do not stand stock still, without yawning or scratching, even during drills. They simply hide it from their commanders. These...      These do nothing.      And whatever a 'black hole' is (which Ru Li will have to look up later), everyone is concerned by it, so that means it's a problem. He has to concur - it's something they need to pay attention to rather than shout dramatic speeches and charge in head-first. A 'dead man's switch' is a very accurate descriptor.      He wheels over to the edge of the tower and looks at Ivy. "I...may myself need an evacuation point. I am a weak point, plain and simple, and ignoring that would be dangerous - someone could be deployed to shoot me from afar and instantly cut much of our ability to observe. I do not wish to alarm anyone else by saying so, and most of them have already probably figured it out. Pride must not get in the way of competence."      He gives more orders over the radio, directing people to where they can be most useful, but at this point, he's largely trusting in their own best judgement and feeding them intel. Ru Li knows how to coordinate people pretty well, at least.
Kale Hearthward	Kale's plan to track down Lilian is abandoned quickly when the scale of things becomes clear to him. He hasn't really tried to push Persephone's powers this far before, after all. ... And in hindsight, if he could sense Lilian, then Lilian could likely sense him. Also in hindsight, knowing where Lilian Rook is might not be so crucial, because - <J-IC-Scene> Ishirou says, "Ru Li... that thing in the sky /is/ a black hole. Or at least so realistically created that my sensors can't tell it apart from a real one." <J-IC-Scene> Ru Li Cheng, awkwardly, says, "I do not know what that is, but it sounds troublesome. Is whatever it is contained? Do we need to worry about it being wielded as a weapon?" <J-IC-Scene> Ishirou says, "Yes." - presumably Lilian doesn't need to be close by to - <J-IC-Scene> Petra Soroka blurts out, "Hot." Kale's briefly thrown off his train of thought. It... is kinda hot, yeah? He's not about to admit that out loud. The state of the country and it's authenticity is noted... it's the sort of thing that, well... ... actually. Would anyone *besides* him realize it? Ru Li might, but Ru Li's experience and expertise are more on the ground (figuratively and literally) compared to his bird's eye view of civil planning (again, figuratively and literally). If this is meant to impress someone, there's only one person here who'd really see it, and Lilian couldn't possibly be that into impressing him that she'd spend however many millions it'd take over faking the little details... ... Meaning she did it for herself? Or she's just that obsessed with it all being authentic? Meanwhile, birds. Kale can deal with these. He's already working through which storm spells to set up to send the flock into disarray when- <J-IC-Scene> Ru Li Cheng says, "No, Mr. Hearthward. Keep their attention." He changes up the spell on the fly. Lower the strength, up the area of effect, change the polarity on the central air weave - make it an inward wind instead of an outward wind... He stops on a dime, spins around in the air, and pitches the spell towards the center of the flock. The wind should blow them towards Kale. "HEY!" he also starts yelling at them. Brick isn't the only person here who can talk to animals! (It's just that they don't normally answer Kale back.) "I'M LOUD! AND I'M BIGGER THAN YOU, AND I'M IN YOUR TERRITORY! WHATCHA GONNA DO ABOUT IT!" Kale puffs out his chest as far as it'll go. "WATCH OUT! I'M GONNA STEAL ALL YOUR FOOD!" With that, he turns and jets off in the opposite direction that Sarracenia and Ishirou are taking. "CAW CAW, MOTHERFUCKERS!"
Ishirou	The black hole-like object was... well actually a black hole.  It was incredibly dangerous, and if used on the town would easily destroy it.  They'd likely need a way to evacuate the town if things came to blows, with the supervillain inside, so rushing the villain and taking them down fast would be off the table.   He forwards this information back to Ru Li and alerts Kale to the birds following them.  What happens next is... well a page out of Kale's book of distraction.   'CAW CAW, MOTHERFUCKERS!' Ishirou is taken off guard at first by this, but once he realizes that Kale is going in one direction, Ishirou blasts off in another, trying to separate and draw the attention of the birds in a different direction.  The goal would be to distract the birds as long as they can so that people on the ground can do what they need to do.   All the while, Ishirou would scan the birds themselves, trying to figure out if they're mechanical, or actual flesh and blood birds... or familiars to the supervillain.
Angela	??? ''Gloves.'' Angela examines her hands again. "I see, I will have to cut them shorter. My revenge outfit has black gloves." It's very important to Angela that her revenge outfit is comfortable and stylish. "I'm glad you involved the crows. I actually was thinking of adding some black feathers to my revenge outfit, like along the upper arm? I suppose everyone would think of raven or crow at first, but in actuality, the 'Rook' classification of birds are also known for having black feathers so I'd like to think of it as a kind of homage..." She pauses. "Do you require any assistance that a backpack with arms can provide?" She sets down the champagne glass to free up the hand and in the process glances over towards the kingly man. Her eyes slowly trail towards Lob Carp. Her hyper processing speed allows her to identify the gag quickly and she narrows her eyes. She takes her pencil and draws another little picture in her margins. This time it's a picture of a sewing needle and a stoplight. She draws out a green pencil to color the green light in and then places her it down smugly and triumphantly. Sew Go.
Rowdyruff Boys	Brick gives a stray crow a peanut fished out of a pocket of his hoodie in response to the noteworthy silence, and then moves into a low escort flight at the back of Blossom and Sougo. It's a little bit of a test, but actually he mostly just likes crows. That he happens to know they'll remember if you mess with them and pass it on -- and do the opposite if you're kind -- has plenty to do with it, though. Shortly after doing so he lands, folding his arms over his chest and surveying the black hole on the sky, taking a moment to quietly relay some one-to-one communication over radio. Since people who 'aren't otherwise engaged' have been asked to collapse towards town, he does so as quietly as he can manage, remaining close at hand to Blossom and Sougo because it's reasonable to expect that he won't go out of his way to do otherwise. But since his short-term goal is achieved and he's on stand-by, he decides to turn his attention into the surroundings. Extraordinary sight and hearing combine with a distinct ability to see selectively through solid surfaces and an understanding of the occult. He's searching for gently out-of-the-way areas with accessible to semi-accessible cave systems... and he's looking at those tree formations. Between the crows and the trees he's getting "The Morrigan" vibes, so now he's trying to assess exactly how dangerous the forests are and what's liable to walk out at them from them.
Odette Raskins	"If someone gets hurt, or once Blossom finds people, I'll fly you right there -- then you can see exactly how incredible I am!" Princess' arrival is certainly eye-catching, and her declaration even moreso. Odette has never made it a secret that she's a fan of transforming heroes, after all, so seeing an entirely new one in the flesh has her eyes going wide while she marvels at the golden battle dress. It probably helps quite a bit that she's unfamiliar with Morbucks in general, and that announcement is taken at face value with a relieved noise. "Whoa, neat... Um. Oh! S-sure thing. Th-thank you!" She finally remembers to blurt all that out in the middle of getting assorted operating tools arranged, stopping momentarily to cling onto a shifting stone before realizing she probably shouldn't stay too close to those while Luz is getting things shaped into proper rooms for the triage zone. "Nina? O-okay! I.. Uh. I don't remember which one that was, but okay. I-is she good at identifying wounds?" Odette looks between Luz and Princess a few times, then nods towards the latter. "I-if not... Um. bringing us there might be better, yeah. It'll be more dangerous, but it'll put the injured at less risk of getting more injured. Unless we we really have to, anyway." She adds, staring thoughtfully at Princess' armor a bit longer before retrieving extra bottles from her own bag to set alongside those tools. "Still, it's real good to know you're keeping an eye on us here. I-I'm not a... Really a fighter, you know?" Odette chuckles awkwardly at that, then straightens up a bit once the finishing touches on her supplies are done. Just in time, too, as she can already start to hear the distant commotion from inside the town, and she hears Ru Li issuing directions to head into the town and get started on evacuations. "L-looks like we're up, then. Okay. W-we've got this!" Odette pumps her fists lightly in an attempt to reassure Princess and Luz, then makes her way down to the town proper. She's mostly beelining for the town square, too, but also on the lookout for discarded clothes she can throw on over her jacket to blend in just a little better with the villagers. Once she's closer to the town square itself, Odette is quick to try taking advantage of Zi-O's divebombing distraction to slink towards those villagers that the Kamen Rider is acting to draw attention away from. She messes with her cap in a useless attempt to hide it under a ratty-looking hood, then just gives up and lets it hang around her shoulders before nudging a few villagers at a time to make them notice her. "H.. Hi there. Um. We need to go. I-it's not safe here, but up there..." She whispers to those who will listen, gesturing back the way she came towards that stone-and-wood triage area. "We have space there for anyone that's hurt. Otherwise... J-just make sure to get out of the town, and wait together with everyone else, okay? We'll make sure..." She looks back to the stage, then at the ominous black hole, and she swallows anxiously while sounding entirely uncertain of herself. "... W-we'll take care of it. One... One thing at time."
Aidan Proudpick	There is one thing that Aidan knows about. Trees. He reaches out towards one of the circles, then stops. How many levels here? If Lilian was playing to kill him, putting a trap in a tree WOULD be the best way to do it. Or is she actually playing to the game. OR does she not care enough about Aidan and it's something important. OR Or is it just something simple. Aidan sits there, Spiderman on gargoyle posing, staring at one of the tree rings, then down at the stone rings. Stop fretting. Get over yourself. Remove yourself from the equation. Then run it by again. "Probably not worth it." Aidan pulls his hand back quickly, "Could be a trap, could be nothing, could be the immortality field. No one's putting out a threat just for you," he narrates for himself. With nothing else, Aidan scampers closer to the town, peering out of a tree to stare out at the town. Ru Li's orders haven't come down yet, Aidan just can't leave this sort of thing alone. He wants to run in and shout heroic platitudes and STOP this. Claws dig into the roof. His lungs fill with air, preparing a hurricane blast. Something to stop everything in its tracks. Aidan hurts screaming out in the distance and groans, putting a hand over his face. Focus. <J-IC-Scene> Ru Li Cheng says, "Yes. Keep their attention while Princess Sarracenia goes to assist Mr. Proudpick and Miss Cinder with the tribute wagon." He already sees the riders in action and puffs out a breath. Well, at least it's an order to him and not 'Aidan just do something vaguely useful.' He smiles again. There's hope for him yet. He reverses course, pushing himself through the trees from branch to branch to get to the road. Trees thin out next to the road, forcing Aidan to heave a breath out to propel himself to the next tree. He wiggles himself back into Spiderman Pose, waiting over the road.
Phantom Thieves	MEANWHILE AT THE VILLAINS BAR > "You're not about to rush out there and help the heroes, are you? I know you're famous thieves, but stealing props from a stage production put on just for you seems far too unclassy for you." "Hey, we were invited," says Limelight. "I'm not *that* ungracious!" "Besides, we've got a code, too. A Thieves Code. You get a calling card before we swipe anything. You'll know we're coming, even if you never end up knowing we were here~" "Oh - yeah, I happen to have some here, even, if you want to know what one looks like," says Stagehand, who starts handing them out to all of the villains in the bar. "Like one of these. Now you know what one looks like, and know that if you get one to expect us." > "It's giving starter village for you?" "It's definitely giving 'doomed' vibes. Like I said, this ain't our style of game, though," says Limelight, taking a seat at the bar again. "This is all followthrough, having to put forth daily effort to overlord it by lording over an entire country. We're all *planning*. We'd spend weeks planning a heist, sure, but then we execute it and it's done and we move on."
Bowser	Bowser furrows his eyebrows at Lilian. Then back at Kuran Yuuki. He huffs out a sharp snort of flame, about to start a battle. Kammy intercedes, "It would be nice to try something new, your pummeliness. Princess Peach might like something new after all this time. Think of the romantic story you could make." A thoughtful rumble. "KOOPA! Write that stuff down." Bowser leans away from the screen, bracing his arm on the other side of the throne to look at Lilian and Kuran's vague direction, "You are both strong and capable women, how would YOU wanna be kidnapped?"
Sarracenia	'Did you, like, read it? The papers?'      "Of course I did!" Sarra huffs. "Just because the objective is different does not mean the idea was not mine first!" Sarra tries to argue. Though, she does not really argue the point of the dating profile. She was using it to try and find dates, after all.      They are apparently being followed, but with no extraordinary senses to speak of Sarra is not aware of it until Kale and Ishirou mention it. She looks behind them but still can't really see anything. "Are you certain they are following us?" she asks.      That may be a moot point since there is also a wagon in need of stopping. "Very well. The wagon shall not reach its destination." Sarra turns around and heads back. And since speed seems appropriate, she pulls out one of her Bullet Bill power-ups.      'CAW CAW, MOTHERFUCKERS!'      Sarra nearly drops her power-up. Not just because of how loud Kale just proved himself to be, but because of what he said. She cannot help staring for a moment before laughing. "I still will not say you are loudest, but perhaps most obnoxious~" she says, clearly intending it as a compliment of some kind.      Then, she is engulfed in an explosion of white smoke from which emerges a car-sized Bullet Bill. A rocket booster fires up on its back end and it takes off for the village.      It lasts about 10 seconds before it explodes again, sending Sarra spiraling forward through the air. It does not carry her all the way to the wagon, but it lets her get there fairly quickly. She glides her way closer, and once close enough she goes for her favorite move.      She pulls out her hammer and aims the head downward, then rides it down. It creates a falling comet effect as she plumets through the air. Of course, she does not aim for the wagon itself. There are people in there! Instead, she aims just to the side and back of it where there should be no people standing.      The impact shakes the ground lightly, and the shockwave is aimed to break those wagon wheels. Broken wagon means no transporting of tributes, right? She twirls around the handle of her hammer, which is half buried in the ground, then hops upward and pulls the hammer with her. She somersaults over the wagon and lands in front of it, hammer at the ready. "Fear not, everyone! We will not allow you to be taken into slavery because of some evil overlord's greed!"      If they were planning on keeping things quiet, they may be out of luck now. Sarra might not have launched fireballs as soon as the village came into view, but she is very quick to start trouble when trouble seems even lightly in need of starting. "I am Princess Sarracenia Sundew, and my friends and I shall liberate you from this tyrant! Follow their directions toward the evacuation zones! We will protect you!"
Eggman	VILLAIN BAR      "Aaaaand in this corner, weighing an astonishing three hundred and twenty pounds, the genius of machine-us, the master of mechanics, the boss who never hits me when I mess up, the Bad Doctor himself, /Doctor EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEGGMAN!"      Cubot floats in as the Doctor's trademark silhouette falls across the room (Orbot knows how to do dramatic lighting, and is floating right behind him, doing just that). The Doctor strolls in, puts a hand over his chest, and bows. "Good evening. My apologies - I know that I am fashionably late, but I do prefer punctuality. I was finishing some minor repairs on one of my ships after an altercation with my blue nemesis, and it took a bit longer than anticipated. I hope I haven't missed anything especially interesting."      "Though I must say you have done a *splendid* job here, my dear Dame Commander. The showmanship is *almost* perfect - I might have a pointer or two for later, but for now, I think it best to simply appreciate the craftsmanship. I rather enjoy the black hole aesthetic especially - have they picked up that the tree loops are symbolic of it? I trust they haven't."      "IN THE BLUE CORNER, WEIGHING IN AT A *HEAVY* VILLAINOUS PRESENCE *STEEPED* IN OCCULT MAJESTY, THE LADY OF CROWS, THE BLACK HOLE KNIGHT, DAAAAAAAAAAME COMMANDER LIIIIILIAN ROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOK!"      Eggman pops Cubot in the back of the head. "IN THE GREEN CORNER - AN UNEXPECTED SLAP FROM THE BOSS WHO STILL HAS NEVER ONCE HIT ME!"      "You'll have to forgive him. He picked up a new vox chip. He does that from time to time."
Powerpuff Girls	AFTER TAKEOFF, Blossom, a natural flier and easily able to outstrip conventional rocketry, comfortably chases The FourzeArmor'ed King of Time as he rockets up. Descending and matching speed to be high and right on Sougo's 'wing', Blossom joins the highflying Rider on streaking rocketry-and-ruby-red trails across the sky. "You're the leader here, Sougo. From the air, the best thing to do is keep a higher position than the enemy, and use your advantage to accomplish the most dramatic thing first." She advises, before looking around and focusing her senses. There was a wagon, and some procession, and... Feeling a bit conscious of the deployment meaning both her Plus One (friend) and Plus One (partner) were breaking off from her, Blossom continues glancing behind her, checking the rear of their flight path and primarily finding a lot of. . . Odd birds. Not the type to laser vision avians for no reason, the ruby Puff thankfully turns back to look where she's flying in formation when Brick rejoins them. Barely given time to talk in meaningful looks and probing eyebrow based communication, the Puff hears fateful words. 'I'm going to Fourze all over him!' Banking down after Sougo, Blossom swoops down expecting Brick to follow, staying overhead and in a one-leg folded power stance in-air as she hovers down. "We're the --" Well, not the 'Powerpuff Girls', so, "--heroes, here to help! We've prepared an evacuation point. There's no need to panic: We're here to help, and many of us are converging here now!" Blossom announces, while Zi-O does his swoop. Several other announcements ring out, but the Puff sticks to Zi-O as she said she would. Spring-tense ready to super-speed intercept whatever trap will spring from this or just start laying out goons, Blossom can't safely target-select in the square above Sougo, and so supports seeing who takes a swing and who starts running. Doing a lot of shouting and demanding is a great way to confuse and cause a panic, which the red wants to avoid. MEANWHILE, "Oh shit!" Princess gasps, tilting a gloved palmback over her suddenly-pogging mouth as a Whole Castle appears. Despite the immensity, she rides the energy local to the setup. "Now *this* is heroism. We've got a fort all of our own, which means we're even!" Princess declares, dropping hands to hips and confidently lifting her chin. She certainly cares about 'fair', though, as someone who had been ganged up on her whole life, having 'the same' advantages subtly also meant they were Her advantages: and her stuff was inherently better. That was the Morbucks math. "The *Powerpuff Girls* are here," Princess declares confidently, unlike a certain Puff who had avoided the name dropping. Since Blossom isn't at the fort, she probably can't hear! "So we've *definitely* got this." The yellow declares, with a raised and closed fist tight enough that the suit material stressed and creaked. Definitely, one hundred percent heroic gestures from a one hundred percent Puff-Class transforming rich girl. Joining Odette and Ivy's deployment via jetboot hover, the flying-because-it-looks-cooler Princess listens to Odette speak for a short while and then just raises her voice and her suit switches the Puff-Talk PA on. With a sonic system fit to banter through a tornado, Princess Morbucks announces full-chestedly: "Hey! Evacuation this way! Towards the sweet hero castle!"
Zero Kiryu	//"You are both strong and capable women, how would YOU wanna be kidnapped?"// In answer to this question, the VILLAIN BAR dims faintly. Those who are impervious to mental intrusion do not experience it, or experience it removed from the feeling of it unless they choose to indulge it. Everyone except Bowser who ISN'T resistant gets an opt-in, if for some reason they're feeling masochistic or curious. A sickly feeling worms its way into Bowser's mind-- it doesn't have a coherent shape. All the shapes have turned to melted plastic pooling in a titanic ocean on landmasses of meat and metal. The rain tastes like your tongue being run through a laminator that is, inexplicably, not hot like it should be. There is a man with a baseball bat, and a dead child -- one thinks it must be a child -- and a dead cat.      .----------.      |    ON    |      |   ____   |      |  |.--.|  |      |  ||  ||  |      |  ||__||  |      |  ||\ \|  |      |  |\ \_\  |      |  |_\[_]  |      |          |      |   OFF    |      '----------' A creaky hand flips a switch. Sight goes. The feeling of illness goes. Everything ceases, subjectively, and then everyone who went along with the ride is back where they started in the bar. The flower in Yuuki's hair shivers in place, and then stills. There was a threat made, here. The shape of it is sickly, and difficult to interpret.
Lilian Rook	The armed men move easily through the crowd where the townsfolk breathlessly give way. By their sheer numbers, they could easily overwhelm just two, but the nature of pack behaviour is faithfully rendered. The blonde girl freezes, eyes wide, breath shallow and fast, and then turns to run. She slams into a wall of people still standing behind her, and her frantic clawing at them makes too little headway to get far. They only shrink back when the guards draw close enough to clap hands on her shoulders and start dragging her back. The men and women in front of her look away as she begins howling "Cowards! Traitors! All these years, you swore to the rightful princess! You let her bless your land and feed your poor and heal your sick, and now look at you! You gutless pigs! Yellow-bellied dogs! I'll see you rot in hell!"     The old man hurries to keep pace with her only for a short while, frantically rambling, "Please, please, Maggie, I told you, you'll be fine! Nothing's going to go wrong! This mad idea you've cooked up; it's all in your head! They need help at the castle, that's all!" The girl screams "Don't you Maggie me! You think the 'Queen' is going to reward you?! You think you're safe if you follow the script, don't you?! I curse your name! I'd rather have lived on the street than with you! You'll be one of those hollowed-out red-eyed puppets before long too, and I'll laugh!" The people closest to her gasp worriedly at the words. The guards only drag her at the same pace as before. "That's enough." says the man from the stage, as she approaches it. "The Queen will hear of your behaviour prior to arrival. You know this. Your name has been drawn fairly; be on your best behaviour if you wish to avoid consequences."     His sternly contemptuous look lasts only until a moment before Sougo barrels into him. He has just enough time to look up and attempt to process what he's seeing before behind knocked on his back and sent tumbling across the stage. His dramatic appearance draws an uproar of mixed gasps and cries and a handful of screams from the crowd, pointing and gesturing at his second pass. Some of the villagers are scared enough-- or brave and opportunistic enough-- to bolt. Many mingle around in a state of conflicted panic. Just as many stand there, frozen up in fearful obedience, not wanting to be caught taking advantage. A full third . . . react like 'normal' people would. Screaming, calling for guards, rushing down the street to ring alarm bells, guiding people back inside. He'd imagined they somehow don't realize they're being rescued. Few people listen to them; but guards do.     Of course there's more than just six. There have to be a permanent garrison. That's how conquests and occupations work. As the man on the stage is indignantly gathering himself up, more soldiers come streaming in from the streets behind the church yard, where a guardhouse must be. Half of them split off to tail Sougo, but half remain to shore up the square, swiftly and efficiently running to position themselves at alleys at intersections to cordon the crowd in place. A handful of people run into them, and are forcefully rebuffed and thrown down to the paving stones.     Whoever they are, they aren't bored former cops. They show neither apparent fear, nor apparent eagerness to fight; they only put up a wall of shields and half-lower their spears; ready to be used, but only not where someone could stumble into a spearpoint and skewer themselves.
Powerpuff Girls	The Observational Lounge, Yuuki continues to smile at Bowser with the same unmoving smile through his puff of flame, and his mental considerance of starting a fight. "Trying something new keeps life interesting, don't you think?" Her mask-obscured features don't hide her lips or eyes, and so she talks with the gentle roll away of her eyes and the light laughter of a satisfied-in-her-comfortable-slouch woman. "Romance is the most important of all." Bowser starts with 'strong and capable women' and 'how would YOU like to be kidnapped' after, which all told is the superior ordering. Sworling her wineglass further, Yuuki sits up to consider the sanguine depths before lifting the glass to her lips and... ... gulps     ... gulps         ... gulps it down, a little trail of slow dark red rolling down the side of her mouth as her metal-thorned rose shivers in her hair, given a psychic breeze and granting a psychic warning. Yuuki, of similar mind, tilts her chin down and leaves the blood dripping down her chin, eyes red. "I think I'd let the only man I'd let sweep me away kill whomever was sent, and watch. Then, I think I'd go back to bed."
Lilian Rook	Those chasing Sougo are surprisingly fast even on foot; and when they realize they're not fast enough to catch him in his jet form, they split up and take to rooftops and balconies without hesitation, drawing metal reinforced shortbows as they go. Several squads arrive at one, drawing fistfuls of arrows and taking aim at him with eerie precision. The first volley arrives soon after, followed by a staggered second, then a third, from various locations.     The arrows spark halfway through their flight, and shriek loudly as they draw close. At the same elevation as Sougo, the arrowheads explode, visible as brilliant popping flashes of fire in the sky from below. It's difficult for them to score a clean hit on him in the air, but their aim is close enough to spray him with sharp steel fragments and burning wooden splinters. The sound of explosions agitates the crowd further, on the verge of a stampede.     The two hauling away 'Maggie'-- now wide-eyed and vibrating with tension-- finish hauling her into the back of the wagon, then return impassively to the stage. Odette has to choose between slinking in as the cordon forms, and potentially being trapped, or trying to push her way in after it's already formed, risking instant injury. Some of the townsfolk fleeing try to bring her along, others look at her with suspicion mingled with disgust, like seeing someone stricken by a horrible disease.     Sarracenia finally turns the crowd into a full-fledged surge where she lands with the equivalent dramatic impact of a meteorite. The wagon's wheels shatter on the near side, then the shockwave tilts it on its unbalanced axis, and sends it crashing over slantways. The people inside cry out from being battered and tumbled around inside, but a few are quick to try and dart away, including 'Maggie', looking at her only a second to say "Godspeed." before trying to climb to a wall covered in ivy. A murder of crows flies away from the impact site, one lingering a little longer from the others.     The bottom of the wagon, turned sideways, bursts outwards with a grisly crack. Sarracenia is pelted with wood chips and dust; and then a black-gauntleted hand lunges out of the cloud to snatch her by the collar and lift her from her feet. A tall figure, fully armoured in black gothic plate, clambers out of the hole they'd just put through a solid wagon floor, heavy footsteps dramatically thunking and clattering as they push her towards the square.     Even up close, she can't see their face through their visor, but notice the dim glow of off-coloured light leaking through one side. The grip transitioning to her neck is ice cold. Every finger is finely stencilled with patterns of climbing vines, no doubt matching the rest, but thorned green actually clings to one shoulder and arm. The breastplate is dramatically marked over the heart with what looks like an elaborate six-pointed flower made of violet stained glass joined into the iron, broken and sharp at each edge.     The armour is certainly magical, as is the heavy, flat-tipped executioner's sword they carry along with them, practically a zweihander. Their strength is certainly superhuman. She needs either a great plan or quick rescue to avoid being choked half-unconscious and then bodily put through the stage.     Blossom and Princess declaring evacuation gets an outraged "How dare you?! Do you have any idea who you are committing this act of disrespect against?!" from the magnificently crimson-faced stageman. They can practically imagine the ensuing aneurysm. "Desist immediately, and I will see that your in-evitable punishment is less severe!" He himself, however, appears to be unarmed, and more or less non-magical.
Lilian Rook	With the crowd panicking from Sarracenia, it isn't long before the troops are shoving people back, concussing them with shield edges, tripping and pinning them with spear hafts, grappling and throwing and beating back. Less than Elite-grade, they're each individually stronger than a human should be, and work in eerily silent coordination, without orders and without panic, as if this situation were totally pedestrian.     It gives Blossom plenty of reason to fight; plenty more when several extra draw bows on her from nearby windows and roofts, and fire the same exploding arrowheads at them both, apparently discounting the stageman's safety. Plenty of civilians are now violently trying to escape towards the Warprunner fort. Where they've already slipped the cordon, other civilians stop to grab and waylay them, trying to pull them inside instead.     Elsewhere, Kale effortlessly scares off the formation; crows, by the looks of it, perhaps as he expected. The lead crow-- no, second from the lead; sneaky-- pauses for a while, eyeing where Ishirou has taken off, then goes with the others when the wind blast hits. Ishirou scanning it finds that it's the only odd one out in a crowd of flesh and blood birds; a magical familiar, by the looks of it, glamered to subtly compel other crows, even, as a special touch. His abilities could easily find one, but he'd have to pick it out in a flock.     Brick throwing a crow a peanut has him stared at by pitch black eyes. Another crow swoops in and takes it from the original, that remains seated. He can't casually tell them apart. His suspicion is probably correct, though. His jaunt through the forest tells him a little more than Aidan, looking for different things in different ways. There are caves to find, but only just enough to shelter a rag-tag band of refugees or highway thieves. Many of the hills and barrows are hollow, or go deep underground. The trees seem natural, and very old, and the stones matching those placed by receding glaciers, but the odd ones out are obvious.     The forest has been combed within the test area and immaculately touched up by a first-hand expert to show signs of old-world faerie inhabitation. He can imagine the will'o'wisps at night and the black wolves that tell doom. Some of the circles might function; he won't tell without checking. It strikes him as probably intentional. That the forest is technically a refuge, where townsfolk don't go, and guards are likely loath to search, but dangerous in its own right, filled with spooky threats. It'd have been a narratively fascinating rebel base if they didn't just build a fortress on it.
Lilian Rook	Those still in the air; and Aidan, watching the road from the trees, can see a second wagon-- no, a carriage, drawn by a single horse (it looks . . . odd) travelling the road along the rise. It'll pass by the town entirely, or else divert into the upscale part of town, up on the ridge, and seemingly has nothing to do with the gathering. Unfortunately, it is also rear and vanguarded by eight black knights, each atop their own mount. It won't be in town for a short while, so it isn't a pressing concern, but there's a clearly well-worn route.
Ishirou	A familar, he had a supicion!  It'd be hard trying to spot and shoot the bird by itself, but he can do one better.  He can focus on tracking, and leave the shooting to someone else.  Such as Kale, who can feed the data too. He changes his flight pattern again, to try and get closer to the birds, or rather, let them get closer so he can start scanning the flock. The moment he can ID the familiar, he sends the data to Kale, and then uses that information to help boost his ability to hit the bird through telemetry and boosting of abilities.  An OPTION is also sent out with the data, helping Kale target, while Ishirou keeps a hovering maneuver around the flock of birds.   It's important to whatever plan Ru Li has to keep the birds distracted, so he keeps up with the plan and attempts to ID familiars the best that he can.
Ivy Carrow	"You go." Luz says to Odette, seriously. "I can go through the gate when it's established, and we could use a hand here. And besides...The Gate-Captain does love to get her hands dirty."     Ivy basks in Ru Li's baffled disbelief, as she regathers her breath...Until he finally addresses her and her eyes latch onto his wheelchair. "I just--" She sputtered, looking abashed. "--Thought it'd be authentic--" She stared at him a while, then her shoulders drooped, comically. "...Fine..." She reached out a hand, and a wooden gate twined into existence in the side of the wall. She reached out, turned the handle, and swung the door open into an empty room.     ...But the most impressive aspect of it was immediately visible only to Ru Li, because this room was not a new room that had opened in the air beside them--was not visible from the outside of the castle at all. By rolling straight down this short hallway, without any rising or falling, he would find himself, somehow, down in the castle basement.     She wiped sweat from her forehead. "This will have to do...Alex?"     They nodded, drawing a glowing red-green stone He raised a hand, and a plinth, in which he let rest the stone, as it sparked--     And Ivy shut the door behind them. She walked to the edge of the tower, looking over the town. "Say the word, and I'll bring us back."     There was a narrow fracture in the air where Ivy had stood, and then nothing. She can't fly, but she CAN see the rooftops--and now she's there, standing abreast tiles that shift under her feet as she surveys the street for a flicker of a moment--another, and she's a block further along, and further, and further--     All in all, it only takes only a few seconds, before Ivy is there, making a three-point landing by Morbucks. "You have no power over us, old man...And to the rest of you...I offer a way out...A gate somewhere safe..." She made a sweeping bow, and another portal ripped open beside her. "You'd be a fool not to take it while you can~"     She draws her blade and joins the melee--It isn't a magic blade, and Ivy's movements aren't far above human besides. The guards, mute, efficent, dangerous, should be more than a match for her--even one of them might be. Except...     Her movements are efficient. Here, she tangles a spear coming to pierce her back with her cloak, and stabs her own blade behind her in riposte. There, she throws her cloak over a guard, suddenly appearing behind them to stab them through while they're behind. Some of it was teleports, but mostly, a quick flurry of movement as muscle memory took over. She fought with Blossom and Morbucks...But mostly, she fought to keep the guards away from her own portal.
Timespace Riders	VILLAIN LOUNGE... We'd spend weeks planning a heist, sure, but then we execute it and it's done and we move on.     "I'm familiar with your work," says the older man with a nod of his head, still concealed behind the notepad. "Listened to your podcast, too. The beach was good stuff. I don't think I really got what you were going for until then. It's art, isn't it? Never so much about what's stolen as the mystery of how and the audacity of the act."     "Keep at it." 'Sew Go'     "That one's pretty good," he remarks to Angela without lowering his notepad. I hope I haven't missed anything especially interesting.     "A few things," says the grey haired king from behind his notepad. "But you're just in time for the 'rising action.' I think the retainer might have something for them, in a minute."
Timespace Riders	TESTING AREA... <J-IC-Scene> Vice-Captain Perrodon says, "I didn't expect this to be a time crunch...We'll need time to stabilize the warpgate." <J-IC-Scene> Ru Li Cheng says, "How long?" <J-IC-Scene> Vice-Captain Perrodon says, "Safetly? Ten minutes." <J-IC-Scene> Ru Li Cheng says, "Then we must buy you eleven to be certain." <J-IC-Scene> Ru Li Cheng says, "And if that is not possible, we must buy you six and gamble."     "How fortunate for you my Demon King and I are here to ensure no time is wasted," says Woz over the band. "According to this book, the black hole and the abductions are the work of the same person." He folds it shut, tucking it under his arm, and moving to rejoin Petra. "Twice weekly," he continues under his breath, "Subjects are to be taken to the castle of the usurper queen, to work neverending on renovating her lair--or else taken and Changed, to serve as her loyal soldiers."     There she is! Now he just has to catch up. "She has eyes across the kingdom in the form of familiars, and is surely aware of our actions. If she arrives to intervene, it will not be without at least two of her four trusted generals."     Procuring his Beyondriver, he closes the distance, fastening it with one hand. "She bested a party of adventurers once before--thus haste in evacuating these people is advisable, lest we find our efforts and attention split. To that end..."     "Petra." His transformed, gauntleted hand rests on her shoulder, his helmet bobbing. "I shall accompany you to Sarracenia's position. If it helps, think of this as keeping Clerks out of harm's way." ...
Timespace Riders	Zi-O whips through pre-car streets, dodging merchant stalls and unattended carts as easily as he keeps up ahead of the spearmen.     "Keep higher... right! I'll see way more, if I-uwoh!!" Exploding arrowheads form a violent addition to the blurry tapestry of passing-by village, the Rider pulling high and twisting to render himself a more difficult target, until he realizes-- "Aw, no sun!" He quickly amends this by returning fire!     The thrusters on his legs flare up, as does another pair on his back, carrying him faster, right back towards the rooftops he'd so frantically avoided. As exploding arrows harry him and pelt him with shrapnel, he lands on the top of one of their posts, his feet kicking up little furrows up uprooted roof as he brakes, funneling the rest of his momentum into a flying kick. Hoping to catch them by surprise and force a hasty weapon switch, he tackles them one roof at a time, using his strength, speed and flight to (kayfabe) take the soldiers out.     "Woz! They're blocking up the streets!"                          Futurering Shinobi! SHINOBI!!                               An iridescent purple scarf flicks, from Zi-O's vantage point, seemingly from around a blind corner, snaring the legs of two guards forming a wall against the panicking crowd and yanking, hard, backwards. "This way!"
Kale Hearthward	Maybe Kale shouldn't have said 'caw caw motherfucker' with that much enthusiasm. The recordings *are* getting deleted after 30 days, right? Ishirou has the next step ready. Kale kicks his boots into high gear, going after the retreating flock... ... he waits for Ishirou's signal, once Ishirou has the familiar picked out, and then he goes for the KO, knocking the target bird to the ground! ... Gently! He doesn't actually want to for real kill it. He's not sure if whatever Lilian set up would cover the familiars, and that feels a little bit *too* mean.
Petra Soroka	"You look like you still have your wits about you."     Petra, hands clamped over her nose, looks up at the woman with teary eyes. Nasal, whiny, "I... do?" She blinks rapidly and scrubs the back of her hand against her eye, shaking her head to regain focus. "Um, right, I do." Being exposed to the woman's accent instantly switches Petra's mind into treating this as one hundred percent real, as if this is an impossible thing for an actor to emulate. Pressing the sleeve of her jacket into her sore nose, Petra's expression shifts to earnest determination, insofar as something like that can be expressed from a face like that.     "Can you tell me about that? I know it's not random, since everything *she* does is intentional, but I've got to figure out the actual intent. If people are being magically influenced...." Petra just assumes that 'right mind' refers to a magical sense of the word, because the thought of Lilian bringing an entire town of people under her thrall is alluringly easy to come up with. Her aura washes off of her like stinging radiation burns, eroding whatever psychic presence may or may not-- sincerely or performatively-- be present. If she stands out as a threat by being Normal, then she'll inflict the same fate on everyone around her. And in the mission, too!     There's only moments to slip through the crowd and assess the state of the selected tributes before Sougo, Sarracenia, and the Puffs throw the square into chaos. Whatever bratty hostility is seething in Petra today, it doesn't extend to actually directly sabotaging the mission-- or, at least, not abandoning Sarracenia to this particular fate. Her black glass spear sparks against the faceless armored hulk with their hand around her throat, lunged in the same motion that Petra pulled it out of the compact mirror in her other hand.     Two planes of morphmetal flatten from globules in the air to form steps, with Petra already mid-jump to land on them when they appear, using her increased height to pressure the armored figure backwards with her spear and lever them away from Sarra. Once they've stumbled back from the initial impact, rather than attempt to bluntly overpower them with strength she doesn't have, Petra launches a pillar of morphmetal up from a pool on the ground, ramming directly into their overextended elbow. "Do you have any idea who you are committing this act of disrespect against?!"     "I fucking *know*, dude!"     Head and shoulders above the crowd even if they hadn't backed away to give space to the combatants, Petra's gesture down at the knight's chest is visibly exasperated. "A fucking stained-glass lily! Come on!" Petra pauses and purses her lips, looking down again. "... Purple, though? Who...?"
Bowser	Kammy grimaces, "Sir, this is not the time to ask for dating adv-" She watches silent as Bowser, a creature with a very small barrier of intellect, begins to slowly drift away. The Koopa King tilts his head back slowly. He is not someone who is GOOD at intrepreting things. His brain is... strange. This is, more than likely, the first time that Bowser has ever had to see these concepts. He goes white as a sheet, or at least as white as a yellow and green creature CAN go. He grasps at the chair, fingers digging in, cracking the wood of his throne. When the feeling leaves, Bowser lets out a sharp sudden gasp, like an air mattress reinflating. "Wh...what was I talking about?" "The theme of the knights." "Wh-yea... yea, yea! YEA! Everyone should have crow armor!"
Phantom Thieves	EVIL ZONE "Heyy, it's The Doctor," says Limelight. "Wanted to congratulate ya. Your protege pulled it off, huh?" she says. "... Though, now we're all wondering, how's she gonna do without the training wheels on, right?" And then !Sougo reveals that he listened to the podcast? *Immediately* he has the full attention of both Thieves. "Yeah? Did you like it?" asks Limelight. "I got new microphones for that episode, did the quality make a difference?" asks Stagehand. "The shoplifting tutorial - I think that was that one, was that useful?" asks Limelight. "Oh! The music for the outro segment - that was good, right?" asks Stagehand. !Sougo will get peppered with a dozen more questions if he doesn't stop this.
Rowdyruff Boys	For a few moments, Brick seriously ponders whether or not he could stir up kindly folk assistance with harassment, but decides that the cost of doing so would be too much. He glances at the crow that didn't refuse his peanut, nods at it, and then turns his attention back towards the ongoing fight. He's not going to go rescue Sarracenia, that's a little too overt... his eyes flick back and forth, x-ray vision seeking something. The soldiers are using explosive arrows-- it's magical, but it's real ammunition. They don't expect to be able to actually hit their targets directly-- timer or proximity, he's not entirely certain. Doesn't really matter. What does matter is that he's pretty certain they can run out of the damn things. Which is why he's sweeping his x-ray vision around, looking for a garrison-and-armory within the village itself. Once he's located one, he swings around the edge of town at full speed -- remaining low to the groumd, skimming the surface but not actually putting his feet on earth -- to get as close to it as he possibly can. Then, he turns on the heat vision centered on the local ammunition stores. To describe Brick's heat vision as heat vision is to do it a disservice. It is the single weapon that the Rowdyruff Boys have that doesn't require them to go maximum destructive that still vaporizes things outright, denying the possibility of repair or even salvage. It's also wide and tall enough that it probably shears the building's mass from its foundations-- he's trying not to catch any PEOPLE in it, and he's precise enough in broad strokes, but there's only so much you can do when you're trying to eliminate infrastructure outright. Immediately after releasing that VERY visible burst of heat vision, Brick bolts to the edge of the trees, pauses, touches down so he can navigate the fairy circles, and makes his way 'round towards where he can hear Blossom is.
Eggman	"Ah, excellent!" The Bad Doctor is provided a chair by Orbot, who drags it over dutifully, and sits down next to the older man. "I had hoped I would be here a bit earlier. Honestly the whole production is very effective. She's really quite a natural, isn't she."      Eggman, quite simply, says, "She will be *extraordinary," to the Phantom Thieves. There's more than a hint of pride in the Doctor's voice, a certainty, an *absolute* faith. "She will be *exceptional*. She already is. The training wheels were barely necessary. All I did was hand her the set - the play was all hers."
Sarracenia	Sarra gives Maggie a nod and a confident smile as the other princess climbs the ivy. "And to you!" she calls back, then turns and heads toward these unnervingly calm soldiers. "Hey! Leave them alone!" she shouts, and starts to run when...      Someone smashes their way right out of the wagon! A black knight?! Sarra is caught and lifted. "I think we found the weak po-!?" Sarra's words are cut off as she is lifted and that gauntleted hand settles around her throat. She wonders for a moment if this is actually Lilian in disguise. It seems much like how she got shot. She made a loud noise while trying to help, then things happened.      It is hard to formulate a plan when being choked, and even harder when one does not really have combat training. So, her plan? Choke up her grip on her hammer, and try to smash that big black helmet in! She is somewhat superhuman herself, and that hammer is pretty powerful! It will surely work!      And while she does not mind being rescued, the thought that it could be Petra who rescues her makes her struggle all the harder! Unfortunately, she can't escape on her own, so it is only once the morphmetal has done its work that she is dropped. She coughs heavily from having her throat nearly crushed by that unnaturally strong grip, then grunts out a, "...thank you."      Able to fully swing her hammer again, she winds up and swings hard at the heavily armored knight. "What is wrong with a stained-glass lily?" she asks. She thought it was some kind of obvious reference to Lilian and kind of discounted it. "I think it is the oddly glowing eyes we should be concerned about!"
Ivy Carrow	Alex Perrodon had never been completely sure of how this worked. Frankly, he was surprised Ivy had any idea of how it worked. Even the students she'd tried to teach, he knew had to borrow much of their power from her. But luckily, he didn't really have to understand.     The stones--her handiwork--had to be set in position. Something about 'an infusion of vital essence in inert objects, enabled by mythlogical inertia.' She'd looked so proud, when she'd told him, years ago. Back when it was just a odd quirk of his junior, he'd just thought it was cute. Now, he found himself repeating the rules Ivy had told him in his head. "Symmetry," he muttered. "Nine stones." He slotted them into place. Adjusted.     No reaction.     He wiped his forehead with his sleeve. "God DAMMIT--"     A flicker of red lightning crossed between them, and they begun to hum, audibly. Alex put his head in his hands, sweat beading down his brows. "That's part one." He was shaking. He couldn't be shaking right now--this work was precise. This work demanded accuracy..."Pull up the chandelier!" They shouted, already getting down on their hands and knees. Now for the floor...     "Let me make it in time..."
Lilian Rook	----------VIEWING LOUNGE----------     'I think building anxiety creates much better tension.'     "Thank you very much, Director. I knew I could rely on you." says Lilian, less and less consistently 'from the back'. "Not that I know the leadership of the Concord to be habitually engaged in this sort of thing, but no one calls themselves a 'supervillain' without a deep-abiding desire to be feared and admired; to show off and sincerely mean it. Otherwise you just pay a few slimy idiots to gun down a president and install your own man." A hand waves pish-posh casual from the dressing area door.     She is not asked, and thus does not answer, where she got Yuuki's Preferred Wine.     'Some of mine, too'     "Besides Tokiwa, you mean?" Lilian calls out, then gasps faintly at something being pulled very tight. "I was quite surprised to see your name on the list. We've never had the opportunity to speak. I've heard you know a thing or two about me?" Funny that their one and only introduction would be while Lilian is in a mood completely different from her daily usual. "'Starter village' is dreadfully 'gamer' isn't it? There has to be a town for there to be people, and the town must have character. Something a little classic, a little gothic, a little spooky, a little cozy; only on the inside, where you can't go; that's the target for me." She sighs wistfully. "It'd be a wonderful little place to invest in, if I were taking it over for real. Get everyone performing their proper roles, rename and renovate, start welcoming guests . . ."     'I see, I will have to cut them shorter. My revenge outfit has black gloves.'     "Revenge outfit? You have one planned?" Lilian says, sounding genuinely surprised, but not very. "I used to make use of those familiars all the time. I never quite clicked with it, though. I just prefer to see things with my own eyes." she adds, referencing years-old Lilian Rook SOP. "Black feathers are a classic! They have different connotations in my homeland, but I think they'd suit you well in both meanings." She waves off the offer with "No, no, I'm quite-- I told you not to pad--" "It isn't ma'am." ". . . Really?"     'Hey, we were invited, I'm not *that* ungracious!'     "I'm glad to hear it." Lilian says. "You know, I actually have a special fondness for your type. Well, the type of several people here, I suppose. If I can share a private thought, just for this lounge . . ." There is a real, tangible pause.     "Human beings are sort of no good without that. It doesn't have to be something so theatrical, but limits, priorities, values, a sense of style and decorum, the ability to create intrigue and wonder and tension . . . Ordinary people with ordinary thoughts, who live their day to day lives just fine without that . . . They're so boring I don't even want to read their thoughts. It's just this tiresome, mushy grey fog. All neurotransmitters and no heart."
Lilian Rook	'You are both strong and capable women, how would YOU wanna be kidnapped?'     "At a high-profile social occasion. A ball, ideally. An award ceremony is fine too. Swift and stylish, with a coordinated troop of followers to show how much effort it took, and how many people agree I'm worth the trouble. Someone tall and strong and with an outfit for the occasion has to make a dramatic entrance. And no silly cage or rope or grabber; I wouldn't be hoisted around like a doll. There'd have to be some sort of elaborate plan laid before hand, sprung on me in such a way that hits my blind spots, and then I'd have to be rushed out by handsome followers. At night. And there must be a clever speech."     Huh?     "Obviously, if you try that on me for real, I'll put you in the hospital for the next six months."     'Doctor EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEGGMAN!'     'I hope I haven't missed anything especially interesting.'     "Oh I am excited to see you here!" Lilian calls out of the changing room. Huffing with the effort of nearly escaping, she gestures at the screen; the black knight now grabbing Sarracenia. "Watch that one closely! I want to know what you think in a minute!" She actually sounds a little bit excited. "Ah, I can't wait until you get to the castle . . . But I'll hear all about it later! For now-- Oh. Goodness, that boy is clever." She's leaned out just far enough to see Brick feeding a crow peanuts. Ishirou's scans aren't obvious from the view screen, but a wave-transmission is picked up on the holographic table. Several of the side feeds are disturbed by the fort, catching airborne views now. One blacks out.     "Really though. Did they have to go and muck up my beautiful forest with their own base? Is this a cartoon? Do they think they're-- Doctor, would you go ahead and level it? Or would you permit them to keep it as if you don't care?"     'You'll have to forgive him. He picked up a new vox chip. He does that from time to time.'     "All is forgiven~" A little princessly wave. "It was actually Sundew that gave me the idea. I had Sapient Heuristics work with me for a few surprises. I hadn't considered celestial phenomena to be part of my 'theme' until the last year, but it's certainly growing on me; and besides, it's direly misused and misunderstood."     Nearly out of breath, Lilian finally stumbles out of the back room. She clicks her heels against the floor, sees something spark and hears a faintly ominous crackle-chime, makes a satisfied noise, and turns around in darkly silhouetted skirts, pinched by operatic elbow gloves. How they got her hair into sexy-tousled waves is anyone's guess. "Finally. I'll keep my earpiece in, but for now, I have a carriage to catch!" she says, hurrying out through the exit. The carriage is actually already on the road, empty at the time people first spot it.
Odette Raskins	Odette breathes another sigh of relief at Princess handling the louder announcing next to her more anxious whispering, feeling some modest annoyance at herself for not being able to just do that the same way. Isn't she supposed to be trying to be more hero-like? Or at least a better EMT, at the very least. She takes another deeper breath to start psyching herself up, ready to imitate Morbucks' full-chested shout, but her voice still only comes out in a strained sputter when she sees the armed guards forming up to collect Maggie and creating a cordon for the villagers afterwards. She has little confidence in her ability to fight those guards, after all, and that fear comes right back before long. Despite all that, Odette doesn't have enough time to think about how bad of an idea sneaking into the cordon could be, and she's already sprinting right in. It's better than waiting to break through after the fact, anyway, but she still needs to shake off the townsfolk that might have very well been heeding her and Morbucks' directions to escape in order to do so! She ends up swinging herself sideways a bit to get loose, though, and her foot catches on one of the guards' shields in her haste to slip through. "Wah... Scuse me! S-sorry! Don't mi-" And then she winds up tumbling right into the cordon with a startled yelp and heavy skid along the ground, eliminating both her attempts to avoid notice and to avoid getting hurt by those spears of theirs. The EMT takes a deep breath, presses her hands against the ground, then springs back to her feet like nothing just happened (aside from her rags falling right off her head and jacket, and also a big scrape along the side of her face). She still needs to help evacuate these people, especially since they're getting beat up by those guards. She can't quite figure out what to do at first, though, just picking up a broken plank from the wagon that blew up earlier and practically telegraphing her throw with how long it takes her to actually commit to flinging it at one of the guards that's getting a bit shield-happy with the villagers. It's only when she Odette the Shinobi's scarf going for the guards' legs that she actually sprints right at them, adrenaline and mild panic spurring her to try and snatch away one of their shields and spears for herself. "C-c-come on! Y... P-pick on someone your own size!" Odette shouts in a half-panic while backing up, trying to look as tall and intimidating as she can while sounding and looking the way she does.
Eggman	"Oh, I would probably destroy it," Eggman says idly, bridging dangerously close to alt interaction, "Not only are they spoiling the fun but it's probably a command post, a safe retreat, an evacuation point, that sort of thing. It's both tactically sound and an *immense* blow to morale to crush that sort of thing. Breaks their flow of intel, and you can laugh about it as you smash their hopes under your heels."      "Speaking of heels! My, but you look magnificent. Well done. An *excellent* outfit to project malice and disdain alongside refinement. I'd wish you good luck, but I'm *quite* certain you won't need it."      He shifts his eyes to watch the black knight, behind his black shades. Before she can leave completely, Eggman does pause and hold up a hand.      "You have a pair of goons, yes? Very important, goons. People to grovel, emphatically, et cetera. You can borrow Cubot and Orbot if you haven't any on hand."
Lilian Rook	-----------VIEWING LOUNGE-----------     "Oh I'd hoped you'd say that. I was really trying not to make up my mind to level it too quickly, so a 'yes' is very appreciated." A beat. "For accuracy's sake."     'You have a pair of goons, yes? Very important, goons. People to grovel, emphatically, et cetera. You can borrow Cubot and Orbot if you haven't any on hand.'     "Of course I do. That's just mandatory. I had those in school." Lilian faux-scoffs. "They were tremendously excited to play the part too. I wouldn't want to deprive them of the opportunity."
Eggman	"Delightful," Eggman says, "Then, ta-ta, and do enjoy yourself."      He leans over to the older man. "She really is just an absolute natural, isn't she?"
Aidan Proudpick	@emit Aidan is waiting to jump down on the wagon. And waiting. And waiting. He jerks back when he sees Sarracenia drop a massive fireball on the stage, sending a shockwave through the cart and buckling it. At least everyone is out. His eyes flicker up towards the other guards. How powerful could they be. Probably pretty powerful. He should wait for back up. Or... no. No, that's not Aidan. He's not a soldier anymore. He's gotta make his own calls. Stick to his guns and believe in himself. Confidence. He grabs hold of that shard of confidence, holding onto it tight. He needs this. This is his. He's not giving it back. He needs every piece he can get for his goals. A double flip. A land on the ground in a perfect three point pose, thank you squrrel heritage. Aidan tightens both his bucklers and makes a run up towards one of the buildings, keeping around chimneys, hiding at each pass in that way that squirrels do. He peeks up over one side, then another, shading his eyes with his hand to get a good look. "Alright. I like stories. I make them up all the time in my head." He smirks at himself, "Let's see. I'm a big evil version of myself. And I wanna... no, I'd just kidnap a prince or something and enslave him?" "Eight black knights. You only put that around someone who is a prisoner, maybe a lost prince? No, it'd probably be a princess. Or maybe a sorcerer? Sorcerer could be it." Aidan slams his fist into his palm. "Maybe a sorceress!" Aidan is very proud of himself. This seems like an important part of the mission. With that solved, he starts scampering down the trail of the wagon wheels, ahead of the carriage, trying to get to the final destination first and scope it out.
Bowser	Bowser mutters to his Koopa, "Write that one down. What? You aren't even Princess Peach! I'm sure tha-" "Sir," Kammy interjects before Bowser tries to make any other statements about Lilian's current romantic relationship, or speak to any woman currently in the room about any sort of relationship, "Dr. Eggman is here." "She really is just an absolute natural, isn't she?" "Yea! That Petra girl is pretty good too."
Powerpuff Girls	Air-hovering, Blossom rapidly gets the read on several people -- villager, civilian, extremely convincing terrified townsperson, the archers that had followed Sougo across the roof -- when the crimson-masked crier declares and demands attention. *Does* she have any idea? Turning to look over her shoulder as she hears the silent twang of string and the particular whistle of a needle approaching through the air rather than cutting across her perception -- a 'dead on' hit by sound alone -- Blossom breaths out a sudden snowdrift puff of bitterly winter ice breath in the path of the fire. The superchilled air forms slowly-falling crystals of diamond dust as chips of ice condense out of water molecules in the air and fall out to thinly rain over the crowd and gust away the projectiles aimed at her and the podium. It wouldn't do for *anyone* to get hurt in the crowd... ... and it's a considered part of the approach. Even asking Sougo to keep altitude was to keep the attacks sailing over the fleeing people's heads. "No!" Blossom answers the red-masked leader, turning about. "So, are you're going to tell me who it is? Tell me what the plan is!" Blossom presses, knowing that even evacuation wouldn't necessarily save this place. She had to get directions to a bigger issue, and fast: all the minions would just slow her down! "What are you doing with the people? Tell me and I'll keep protecting you from your own people's arrows!" The red puff pressures harder. A burst from an overhead window sends more explosive arrows down at her, and in a SKRR! of flashy speed she leapingly intercepts the explosives in flight by catching the arrow-shafts themselves in her open palms and quickly icebreathing the tips of both like blowing out a candle. SKRR!-ing back to the platform, she drops the frozen arrows at the foot of the theater leader and demands: "Talk!" Princess Morbucks doesn't have the compunction against rising into the air and taking an explosive arrow or two straight to her golden battle-dress and long black glove-sleeves, raised in a one-armed brace when she's yelled at for not understanding what's going on. Princess hover-stands, guard coming down and jetboot hover barely scuffed by a few arrows of opportunity thanks to her shimmery pink power field on subtle display ablating the damage to sparks and SFX smoke. Planting pinky-up hands on her hips, a pink goggle-visor drops from her crown over her eyes, and a red targeting HUD projects over her eyes, limbal ringing the dark points of her narrow human eyes with ruby information displays. Sweeps of bars, bookended by rings in the depth of her goggled cheeks, and a digital crosshair in red superimposed over the goggles and following the saccade motion of her eyes.
Powerpuff Girls	Sweeping over archers with X-Ray vision, heat detection, motion sensors, and broad active sensor scans. "That's where you're wrong," Smirks Morbucks where everyone can see, the pom-puff first-name-Princess having a power armor that leaves her smirking freckled mug on proud display. "I'm a hero, so, I know exactly where I am." "Right about to win." Princess declares, and points at two groups of repositioning archers with her raised-fingered palms, pink light spawning a multitude of golden dots surrounded by pink energy-flames of kinetic force that barrage the windows and paths the suppressive archers can fire from, the ginger super raking suppression fire that just coincidentally blasts some of the ones going for Zi-O *and* Aidan. Despite her super speed jetboots, Princess's visor alerts her to Odette's critical state of 50 units of awawawa-ggression in her bloodstream, and the golden armored girl shifts back on a sweep of her flight systems to divekick the guard she's targeting. "What are you doing? Make sure to find any hurt or trampled people, and get them help! Leave the fighting to me, and only fight if you need to to escape. I'm *protecting* you, girlie, act like it!" "You've got a hero job to do too!"
Ru Li Cheng	"Thank you," Ru Li says with a smile, "I rather liked it, but I appreciate this nonetheless." He sits there, as she leaves, and he's alone with his thoughts.      He's coordinating well enough, he supposes. His finger runs along the edge of the wheelchair, not for any particular reason - it's not like he needs to do that to feel it, or to think. It's just...a habit he's started picking up. Something...something he's doing to keep himself active, maybe.      Active.      He wheels over to the window, which is almost assuredly a mistake, and looks out at the forest. He doesn't really *need* to, obviously, but...well, it's making him feel a little better. Again, that little bit of *active*.      Other people are more experienced. Other people are more powerful. Other people know their roles far better than he can give them. Other people here are better for all of this. And none of them are physical liabilities.      His fingers tighten around the wheelchair. It is fortunately able to withstand him. Are they pitying him, by letting him do this?      The feeling grabs him by the chest and squeezes. Sure, he's the one who basically took the job because it was important to do so, but...      But now he's full of doubt. Now he's distracted from his job, now he's distracted from what he should be doing. Now he's fumbling his thoughts. Blossom and Petra are right - he's overthinking everything, even himself right now. This is a game, just like Petra's was. He just...can't see the path as easily, right?      "This is a game, just as Petra made," he repeats, aloud, "I just...do not know the path."      Which doesn't make you a very useful god right now, does it? Stuck there in a wheelchair. Practically sitting at a desk.      Calling shots.      Directing units and materiel.      Can't even help it, can you, Ru Li Cheng? Even when you're out of the palace, you're still chained to it. This is what you are.      So is it ethical for you to be here, gallivanting around, instead of doing the job you can't stop doing any more than you can stop breathing? You didn't have an answer for Hazelthistle?      You knew the answer. You just didn't want to admit it.
Angela	VIEWING LOUNGE ''That one's pretty good.'' Angela grins and then tries to peak at (this) Demon King's notepad. "I am more than 'pretty' good." She lets herself get a little cocky. But she is quickly distracted by Lilian who is occupying the bulk of her attention now. ''Revenge outfit? You have one planned?'' "I do." Angela says. "...I mean, Petra says that villainy is as much about theatrics as anything else so I should try and be theatric about it, since ... Well, you only get it once--I think it is a bit like how Yuuki--The Director--spoke about immortality. Being conscious about the approach, the sort of revenge, and the you you wish to build--it is important. It seems easy to take revenge and then be unhappy about it--but if you are unhappy about your revenge--that suggests you did not really want revenge, you are more pushed into it than measured and thoughtful in your approach. Not calculated." Angela mulls on it, thinking how it's a little sad that most EGO Gear looks just like suits. She doesn't mind a suit now and then but--maybe a bit of her is a fashionista in the sense that she wants to wear a larger variety of outfits. Maybe it's just that she's been stuck in this labcoat secretarial getup for a gazillion mental years. She quirks her head and she asks, "Both meanings?" She wonders aloud. "What meanings do you mean?" She scootches up in her chair, now wholly interested. She doesn't comment on Lilian 'not padding'. "You are being considered in your outfit as well. Will we get to see it here or will it be on the screens? Carmen always told me that the right kind of shoe really completes an outfit." #-1 FUNCTION (ANSI) EXPECTS 2 ARGUMENTS BUT GOT 1 Cinder is distracted from the adventure module by the woman approaching Petra. When Petra says 'Um, right, I do', Cinder elects to say it more confidently, "Hell yeah she does!" Petra is being nasal whiny but Cinder isn't going to let Petra walking into a wall let any doubt her competence. Sometimes you just walk into a wall! Cinder does sometimes! "Are we...allowed to say we know it's her or..." Cinder wonders aloud. "Or is that reading ahead in the script kind of--Ahh, well, I mean--there's usually someone who knows the villain right? Right." She bobs her head. ''If people areb eing magically influenced'' "Um, well, Ru Li said they were acting a little oddly like maybe they were..." Orders aside, Cinder is sticking to Petra because she could really use Petra's company rigt now and the distraction. She doesn't want to rush off with people she can't trust to watch her back by itself. Cinder uses a burst of flame to drokeep pace but doesn't end up being able to stand on a morphmetal platform, instead shifting as if to stand guard there. "Maybe it's purple because ... uh ... purple is an evil color?" She suggests, pressing her back against the pillar.
Lilian Rook	The crow taken out by Kale dissipates into wisps of dispersing shadow. Ishirou tags the magical signature immediately as near-identical to Lilian's in his oldest database, back when she did things like 'spy on Hyrule castle town'. Fragile, but non-capturable. That seems about her style. Secretly, it's also her style not to particularly like animal abuse.     'You have no power over us, old man'     "How dare you!" the stageman calls out dramatically to Ivy. He has the arrogant-aggrieved gasp down perfectly. "I am invested with the authority to speak on behalf of the Queen! My words are akin to hers! Your disrespect towards me is thus a direct affront to--!" He doesn't quite get to complete the rest of his speech before Sarracenia is carried by and Ivy teleports off to fight.     Zi-O's first flying tackle sends a soldier careening off the roof. His armour cracks where he lands. The second near to him is still swapping to his spear when he's hurled stuntman-style through a window. The third blocks with his bow, snapping it, and takes a fearless attempt at getting Sougo with an arm bar before going down. Another takes it on his shield; and then jams his spear into the roof to lock him in. Soldiers across the street draw and fire, shooting him in the back, dangerously close to their own comrade. When he breaks free of that, another squad is prepared to shoot him when he turns to engage the first.     Oh no. These are danger putties. The kind where his theme plays in minor key, and the scene transitions at just such a time as to leave his fate ambiguous, so he can limp bloodily away as the narrow victor to his promised meeting point at the end of the episode.     Ivy in the mosh pit is in much the same condition. Better off, though, for not having several pursuit teams flanking her. The cordon is only two men thick, and also fighting civilians. It lets her dance around their lines while fighting, but presents a tight margin of risk; teleporting behind someone gets her clubbed by a wooden haft from the soldier watching his back. A single false move leaves her sword stuck in the hard wood of a shield, then counterattacked immediately. One soldier thrusts for her belly behind the target she's already attacking, slipping in the attack from her blind spot. Lilian's fondness for competent faceless mooks is, unfortunately, incorrigible.     But she fells one. Two. Three. Two others. One more collapses to a leg and can't fight. The townsfolk are starting to break through, slipping through the gaps one at a time, then pushing over the wounded.     Predictably, a good deal of them simply run for home, to hold down the windows and curl up in the cellar. Accurate to how real people act, maddeningly; not to fuck her over. A good number, however, have a head enough to heed her and Morbucks' instructions and head straight down the main street for the tower pointed out by Blossom. In the next thirty minutes, a steady trickle of evacuees will be arriving; many bloodied by the guards, some carrying family and friends or mere neighbours who are struggling to walk.     But what Ivy is left with is the feeling of cleaving an arm off at the elbow, hearing the armour clatter as it rolls down the street, and feeling something instinctively wrong about the feedback down her blade arm. Looking at the soldier, she sees night-coloured shadow escaping from the wound, hissing with angrily popping stars. In the bare space exposed, she catches sight of stacked up rods and braces and pins, entwined with living thorns and colonized by miniscule flowers. It's not quite clockwork, not quite robotic, but certainly not human. The soldier looks down at his stump, then body tackles Ivy.
Lilian Rook	A sniper draws on her from behind. Inside the buildings all along. Coordinated. Non-registering to Kale's psychic senses, and direly muted under Ishirou's scanners. Up close, she catches the sight of runes carved into the armour's inside.     The hail of arrows that is about to fall on the Elites in the town square is blown away by the icy gale. Blossom freezes the arrows solid, even-- they don't have that much mass-- leaving them to shatter semi-harmlessly where they land, despite the obligatory shrieking of the crowd being subject to the briefly terrifying wind. The trick confirmably works with her hands and pinpoint attention. The soldiers hesitate. Reevaluating. Or receiving new tactics. It's unclear. They only have time to duck and cover before Morbucks lays waste to their footing, concealment, and everything else; some successfully get behind their shields; durable enough to be at least modestly enchanted, but mostly are simply swept away in the tide of fire outright.     The evil-looking town crier falls over himself from the gale and the sudden realization that Blossom saved his life. He isn't as stupid and baffled as an ordinary person would be by the change of flag. "I-I don't know?" he babbles out, afraid enough by the close shave to be honest, glancing fearfully at his guards now. "I-I-I just c-collect, according to . . . a-according to . . ." He takes a deep breath.     "The Queen wants, and so she receives. It's madness to go against her. Perhaps they're labourers, or entertainment, or even sacrifices for all I know! I've never been beyond the first floor! Just--" He looks wildly at her, and then very oddly towards the direction of the Warpgate. "Figure it out." he hisses. "Don't fall for them. Make certain you're on the right side, when whatever she's planning happens." Scampering for the exit, he scrabbles upright and runs.     Odette's intimidation is not working. The guard visibly watches the spear she has clutched in her hands, but doesn't seem to scan her as a serious threat. He marches right up to her, reaching to snatch it back out of her hands-- only to be divekicked away by Morbucks. As she's sent off, she bumps into a young man coming out of an alley. He glances to her, shocked, and then looks at her a moment longer, and gulps. "You--! Please, it's not safe here! Follow me!" he says in his most dashing young-man tones, waving her into the back door of an inn down the street.     "Thank goodness you're more sensible than the rest. Are you alright?" he says, ostensibly opining on her not getting into the huge brawl, and about her scrape. "It's not safe outside these days. The people . . . well, they mean well, but they're set in their ways." He waits until she comes close enough to gingerly examine her injury. He looks like he has a crush, as young men do. "I'm sure this'll all blow over soon. You'll see. It'll just take a little longer . . ." he says. If she looks at him right, she sees a razor-fine glimmer of misplaced light in the ring of his iris.
Lilian Rook	Sarracenia successfully strikes her assailant with her hammer. Their grip tightens around her neck to the point it would probably crush her windpipe normally; and then only out of spinal reflex; holding on to something while disoriented. Their head snaps back. The visor cracks sharply. And then, as they ominously right themselves, looming over her in menacing silence, the broken piece falls away; strangely fragile, as if it weren't tempered as well as the rest. She didn't have enough power in that point blank hammer swing initiated from a grapple with such limited movement, so breaking enchanted steel should be out of the question.     From out of the visor, Sarracenia sees a lock of fine red hair spill out, a sliver of fair skin, and a human eye, frozen wide in terror. The other side of the visor, still intact, glows where the other eye should be, but this one is still clear and piercingly blue.     "Help me." comes a woman's whisper from inside the helmet. "I don't want to be one of them."     The black knight hurls Sarracenia away; against the side of the stage, to drive the wind out of her and stun her. They hoist their massive sword in the same motion, poised like an executioner-- fittingly with an executioner's blade-- to take her head. The sight of the towering figure in armour, about to decapitate her, looking at her with the horror of someone who can't stop themselves, is more chilling than the blade.
Lilian Rook	Brick's second guess is, somehow, again, right on the money. Choosing something vastly less convenient than a great big glorified holodeck means that the materiel has to come from somewhere, and the obsessive dedication to detail that Kale had verified leads to him actually finding an armory where he'd expect. There are no doubt small arms closets in various minor outposts in town, but not enough to seriously supply a garrison.     The building he finds is what was the original guard house. It looks as if it was recently repaired; spick and span, but the windows are new and the hinges don't creak. The door and windows were broken at some point. The street around it still has the sooty markings of fire. He steps on the rusty reminder of old blood, speckled in a forgotten part of the street.     The guardhouse menaces with environmental storytelling. It also turns to ash with two hundred quivers of munitions inside it. The commotion draws attention, but reinforcements will arrive long after he's gone. There was no one inside, or even inhabiting that entire block. Not even opportunistic street merchants come to sell to the cops.
Odette Raskins	Things aren't looking particularly great for the EMT with a spear. Does she even know how to use that thing? If it was capable of exploding things with fancy effects, perhaps, but a regular spear? Not so much. She can barely even bring it forward to aim at the approaching guard before he's about to pull it away from her, too. When she's at her most panickingest, though, the day is saved! Thanks to... Princess Morbucks? Of course! She's been true to her word this entire time, after all, and Odette nods rapidly when her attention is redirected towards actually doing what she came here to do, complete with chucking the spear aside like she's scared of holding it any longer than she needs to. "Y-yeah! Right, o... Okay. Thank you, Princess!" Clearly, Odette doesn't realize that that's Princess' name and not a title yet. "I-I'll make sure you and everyone don't have to worry about anyone here, so you can get your job done, too." With that, Odette's demeanor actually seems to shift a bit once her head is back on right after that, awawawa-ggression purge and all. First things first: Checking on the wounded. She doesn't recall seeing many of the villagers getting stabbed, but plenty of them got hit with those shields, tossed onto the ground, or otherwise taking some kind of heavy hit. As she scurries off to start checking on them, though, she encounters an unfamiliar face! One that confuses her almost immediately, too, when he tells her to follow her. "Eh? But the... Injured..." Naturally, Odette ends up getting swept up in the flow of someone telling her what to do, and she chases after the young man while keeping her eyes peeled for anyone else that's hurt on the way there. If nothing else, she's got the HUD to tell her if anyone's hurt more than a minor bruise here and there. If there really is anyone hurt that badly on the way, she's still got her bag full of painkillers and syringes to give them a quick pick-me-up before directing them towards the heroic triage castle. "Me? O-oh, I'm alright. Just a little... Nnh. Freaked out, but I'm okay." Odette replies to the young man with a light chuckle, still breathing quickly and catching her breath while glancing back outside. "I-I noticed it was.. Um. The people out there didn't really look like they were happy about us being here, huh?" It's only when she finally looks back over at the young man that Odette notices quite a few things. One: He's really close, isn't he? Alas, she's not quite world-experienced enough to notice the signs of a crush that easily, and checking on her wounds tells her he might actually know a thing or two about proper treatment! "Is it bad? I've got bandages in..." She gestures at her bag, then unzips it and pulls out a small medicated patch before holding it towards the young man. He should know what to do with this! Probably. Two: No matter how dashing he might be, he's still missing a certain something that keeps him from getting her to reciprocate that look in his... Eye? Wait. There's something off about his eye. "I hope it does, but something big's happening. Ah... R-right, I still need to get back out and check on whoever else is hurt, but your-" Without worrying about matters like personal space or potential crushes, Odette's holds her gloved hands out to try and take hold of the young man's face, perhaps sending the wrong signal as she leans in close to get a better look at that eye. She leans to one side, then the other, and she'll even resort to gently prying his eye open to get a better look at that glimmer of light. "Have... Um. Have you felt anything weird in your head lately?"
Ivy Carrow	A club comes down on her, hard, and she can only just manage to twist enough that it strikes off the side of her shoulder instead of on top of her head. When her sword gets stuck, a sword comes right for her midsection--but Ivy's cloak is in the way, absorbing the blade that should have carved into her flesh like it was nothing, giving her just enough time to draw her sidearm and fire twice into the into the soldier's thigh, before pulling her blade free.     It's a war of attrition, and Ivy was just one woman. With every downed opponent, she collected another scrape, another cut, another bruise. Her breathing came out hot and hard, her muscles screamed in protest--but she kept going, and going, a furious flurry that went on, and on...     ...Until it was done. She felt something give, a tear in an arm. And, her arm sagging, she turned to see..."W...What is that..." Her voice was half-awed, looking over the thing. It stared at her, uncomprehending.     But unlike her, it was not human. Unlike her, it did not hesitate. And one mistake...that was all it took.     It lunged, and Ivy barely managed to raise her sword in its way--a futile barrier, against a creature this. Clockwork-flower arm seized Ivy, dragging her to the ground. Feebly, she struggled, stabbing, stabbing, STABBING. But she could feel her bones creaking, she could feel the dark closing in. Her own metal arm, trying to push back, began to bend. Dark blood began to squirt from bent steel.     "No..." Alex breathed, back in the castle, looking at his own bag in horror. "No, it's not..."     The last of the stones. The final key to stabilizing the gate...It was missing.
Eggman	"Petra," Eggman says with a sniff, "Is just as spectacular a natural as the Dame Commander. She simply has a very different approach. A more hard-scrabble sort of nastiness, a more earthy *spite*." He sounds like he's discussing wine more than discussing people's villainous inclinations.      He leans forward as the knight's gimmick is unveiled. His lips part in quite a broad smile. "Ho ho. Using captured victims as power for your metal monsters? You take very fine notes, don't you?"      "You see, that's the difference between them as villains," he says to the rest of the Viewing Room, "Petra's spite is earthen, raw, angry. Her spite is reactionary. She sees things and she snaps at them. She finds a target and she turns it into ash with her whole heart."      "The Dame Commander, now, her spite is subtle. It's a sort of built-up cruelty from the world forcing her to shoulder its burdens without ever a thank-you. Petra's spite is the spite of a born villain, but the Dame Commander - ah, hers is the spite of a hero seeing how the world really thinks of them. Stored. Resentful and purposeful. Not reactionary at all - delicate, dare I say *clockwork*, in its motion, carefully-arrayed to do exactly what she wants it to do and no more, no less. In a few years she'll be a world-conqueror for certain."      "Orbot, my thermos, if you please."      Orbot floats over and hands the Doctor a thermos. Eggman takes a sniff, pours something into the little plastic mug, and swirls it around. "Ah, nothing like eggnog to really complete a day."      Of course it's eggnog. Man lives his theme.
Lilian Rook	The woman speaking to Petra (and incidentally Cinder) looks relieved when Petra stops spacing out and falls into character. "Well dear, for a moment I was afraid I'd guessed wrong y'know, but I'm glad to see I wasnt." she says. Petra's special emphasis on 'she' makes her create a shushing gesture with her finger, though, and start pulling Petra further from the square. "You almost sound like you know something." she says, on the move. "But no one knows anything about that one. No one knew then, when she first blew in with her men and said she was come to visit the princess from afar, and no one knows now. All I do is those people are still there, they're not coming back, and the 'Exalted Lady' seems to like the young and pretty ones." she whispers, shaking her head.     It looks as if she's trying to guide towards some sort of shop on the eastern side of town, near to the upscale district, taking a bridge over the river. There are fewer crows here, and almost no guards. It's easy to imagine why. She gasps in horror as Petra rushes in to rescue Sarracenia instead, shaking her head as if she's watched some brave young conscript go over the top of the trench to die.     Fragments collides with the knight's body at just the right moment to dramatically prevent Sarracenia's decapitation. The narratively perfect timing rewards her with the armoured hulk staggering away, then wheeling on her with a savage cross from their-- her, left hand, followed by an advancing swing from the sword, turning into a hacking cleave that she narrowly double jumps over. The strike to the elbow causes more armour to crumble; fracturing like sugar glass where the rest had held in dents and gouges against her attacks.     The shoulder moves, and the fingers thrash, but the elbow refuses to work; or rather, the occupant wrestles not to move her exposed elbow against her will, and the fist falters. The other arm drops and catches the sword around the unsharpened forte, and swings it backhanded to crack Petra's skull open with the pommel, before she's assaulted with a deadly kick and stomp. It's hard to tell where, but certain portions of the armour somehow aren't 'finished'. Or, whatever it's doing to the person inside isn't quite done. The two seem symmetrical.
Timespace Riders	VILLAIN LOUNGE...     I am more than 'pretty' good. The Greatest, Kindest Demon King laughs. "You'll get no argument from me." There's a little cartoon Angela in the margins doing the 'triumph' face.     Yeah? Did you like it?     "It's a labor of love. A little window into something that's important to someone else. A chance to see a little of that passion. Yes, I liked it." I got new microphones for that episode, did the quality make a difference?     "I'm not the best to ask about stuff like that. History, politics, statecraft, sure. If it's feedback you want..."     "In a way, what you're doing is being an overlord, over a very specific kingdom. It's a time commitment. A marathon, not a sprint. So, if your kingdom has five subjects, make it the best kingdom those five subjects have. Five subjects who sing your kingdom's praises are better than five hundred who could care less." Besides Tokiwa, you mean?     The old man chuckles, a sound like rubble coming to rest in a great cavern. "I could name a few. More than you'd think, but less than you'd expect."     She really is just an absolute natural, isn't she?     "One of the best," the king agrees. "What's the term? A 'generational talent.'" I've heard you know a thing or two about me?     "Even when I was his age, I listened when people around me talked." His tone implies a smile. "I've listened enough to know a few things. You give good advice, for example. Not enough people take it, but you're consistent."     "Picking a favorite is hard, but... I keep coming back to the difference between 'rowing' and 'drifting.' That was a good one." He nods, pleased with his decision after a moment's thought.      "Hm." His note-taking pauses. There's a sense that he's looking at the viewscreen, even if his face is concealed by the notepad. "Oh, that's... a little clever, and a little stupid, at the same time. How very like him." ---
Timespace Riders	With Blossom's guidance, Zi-O is able to make an impact--but not without effort on his part. The soldiers are good shots and tenacious fighters.     'Handling' them as he said he would is much easier said than done--these soldiers actually know what they're doing, and that means they'll not only take longer to 'handle,' but that any he doesn't handle have a higher likelihood of regrouping and interfering with the Warprunners.      The fight to keep them occupied until the crowd below can break through the lines of guards is arduous, exhausting--even when he can return fire with little rockets of his own, the soldiers seem to hang on just long enough to tax him a little more, and more of them seem to be in close proximity every time he finishes knocking another over.      Unlike Woz's path through the city, Zi-O's is a slog, ever working towards the rendezvous point but unable to pick up his pace--until at last, the 'floodgates' open. The sole advantage of Sougo Tokiwa being the person to fight this fight--to arrive at the meeting point later, battered and bruised, is that he can cheat, and do that now.      Sougo Tokiwa, not Kamen Rider Zi-O, appears in a pink pillar of light, hand outstretched to Alex. In his hand, at the end of an arm sporting a patchwork of dark bruises, is the missing stone. Chest heaving, breaths shallow, he manages a smile, before returning to his original point in the timeline.      Present Sougo, in his Rider armor, still has to get there. Woz, on the other hand...      ...is a purple blur, racing across the ground to join Petra and Sarracenia.                                Time Sealing Strike!                                    Four afterimages of the ninja-smartwatch-themed Rider converge to make an X-slash on the heavily armored knight, specifically focusing on the armor.
Ivy Carrow	Alex stares up at Sougo, briefly uncomprehending, as though he might just be staring at a hallucination...     He takes the stone, gingerly. And when Sougo vanishes, the stone...Is still in hand. Gingerly, he slipped the last of nine and nine bloodstones into their slot on the floor, and they erupted with power.     Red light arced like lightning between the overhanging chandelier and the floor. Alex stepped back, raising a hand in front of his face. A warble rapidly undulating back and forth between low and high notes, filled the air. A sound that was also a feeling, that was also a smell that was also a sight like a thick canvas RIPRPING resounded through the room, and just like that the world tore open.     A pulsing, grand opening in space, gleaming a familiar red. "...I owe you a drink," he muttered, to the space where Sougo once was. Then, raising a hand, they opened the local broadband. "The gate is stabilizing! I repeat, the gate is stabilizing! Begin escorting the evacuees!"
Petra Soroka	"Are we...allowed to say we know it's her or..."     "Mm-mmm, you're missing the point. We're not playing to a script," Petra explains to Cinder on the way over, wholly assured in her understanding of supervillainy, and, of Lilian. The fact that the Paladins as an organization are involved has left her mind entirely.     "It's actually *more* disrespectful to act like there's a script, or that it's a game, or whatever. Simulation or not. Supervillainy is about setting up methods of engagement and the themes and vibes surrounding it, and it's totally ruined the moment people think that they've got it all figured out and they just need to coast along or whatever. No. It's not some insincere beat for beat play. There's something between the shitty super-optimal blind rush towards the castles like fucking heroes love to do, and apathetically wandering along with prewritten lines. There's give and take." "... and the 'Exalted Lady' seems to like the young and pretty ones."     Petra stops and swears at full, distraught volume, in the middle of the alleyway that the woman was guiding her through. "*Damn* it! Come *on*!" She turns around and emphatically flails her hands in direction of Maggie while she's dragged kicking and screaming into the carriage, gesticulating at her own matching hair color.     After that short outburst, she lapses into low griping, still intending on following the woman before her objective is forced to change. "I mean, I'm just saying, I can handle myself, you know? If I got picked up as a tribute, I'd be taken in past whatever knights and minions she has on guard, I'd know ex*actly* where to go because there'd be all kinds of captives for me to save, and, you know, who's to say, like--" And then it's time to rescue Sarracenia. "...thank you."     Of course Petra is entirely aware of exactly how Sarracenia feels about being rescued, and being rescued by her in particular. Her smirk is projected over the back of her shoulder, while still facing away to hold off the knight from reaching Sarra as she recovers, only barely keeping the reach advantage versus their zweihander with the full length of her spear and added maneuverability from the Silver.     "Don't get your hopes up *too* high, princess. You know I rescued Lilian from a villain's clutches first." "I'm a hero, so, I know exactly where I am." "Right about to win."     Petra mutters to herself in a particularly exact cadence, in inaudible response to Princess. "And so once again, the day is saved, thanks to, the Powerpuff Girls! As well as... well." Princess so brattily declaring her heroic allegiance and the well-worn consequcnes thereof is so staggeringly cute that it takes Petra by surprise. Is it still parasocial if she's had lunch with both of them?
Petra Soroka	"Help me."     Whatever Posting Petra may have done about Lilian's mind control, the horrific beat of seeing the woman inside the armor struggle against her own body still lands. Petra flinches and recoils, jamming the tip of Pillar of Creation into the shattered gap in the armor on the knight's arm and forcibly twisting it to the side, levering the haft of the spear over top to pin her shoulder in place. With the awkward angle forced by her spear, the black knight's stomp only shatters the morphmetal platform beneath Petra's feet, wetly tearing through a sabaton-sized segment and causing the rest to distort and lose tension right after.     "Shit--! Fucking-- princess," By tone, of course, she means Sarracenia. "Knock her over and help me pin her down! I've never actually *tried* to fuck with Lilian's psionics before, but if I get contact--!"     If Sarracenia bats the tangled-up knight to the ground with her hammer, then the pool of glimmering mercury resting on top of the dirt squirms up with a dozen wobbling appendages, looping and sealing around her limbs to hold her tight to the ground. Once it's safe, relatively, to do so, Petra releases her grip and dives to reach her palm through the biggest gap in the helmet visor, pressing her palm to the woman's face. Psychic presence and anti-presence clash against each other like the sublimating vaporization of ice in a vacuum, hissing and popping painfully, and maybe at the very least giving the woman more control temporarily.
Aidan Proudpick	Everyone is fighting down there. Aidan stares down at the carnage from his vantage point following the carriage tracks. Was this the right choice? Confidence, Aidan. Have some damn confidence. If it's the WRONG choice, then make it into the RIGHT choice. Make ANY choice. Aidan scrambles over a gate wall, lifting the latch to carefully unlock the gate. No carriage. Aidan rushes over the walls of two more courtyard to find at least a sturdy cart. He's not a squirrel of muscles, but he does know MAGIC, enabling him to push the cart right up to the gateway and lie in weight. He wouldn't give himself any points here. But, he'll at least wait. And be ready to drive a cart full force into the Dame Commander's carriage.
Rowdyruff Boys	Brick decides that long-term thinking is going to save this thing. He retreats fully into the forest, back the way he came-- towards the caves he found previously. He plots a course through the forest, goes back through it again-- repeats it three or four times before he fishes a notepad out of an interior pocket of his hoodie and draws himself a map. Rather than stopping there... He seats himself at the entrance of the cave, sweeps his vision across the whole of the surroundings, and begins to map it more totally. MEANWHILE, back at the warp gate, a flustered Boomer crosses over panting with exertion. "Aw, man... He complains, more to himself than anyone else. There's nobody to blame but himself.
Sarracenia	The helmet breaks open just enough for Sarra to see the person inside, and it stays her hammer from further blows. The princess blinks, then growls lightly. Or at least tries to. With her neck being squeezed all that really comes out is a slight squeak.      She is thrown against the stage and bounces. With the wind knocked out of her -and- choked out of her, she is in a perfect position to get beheaded if not for Petra's timely intervention.      'Don't get your hopes up *too* high, princess. You know I rescued Lilian from a villain's clutches first.'      Sarra mmphs at this. "Do not get -your- hopes up! You identify as a villain yourself, after all!" she retorts.      'Help me.'      "...This -better- be just an act..." Sarra mutters as she watches the struggle of the person in the armor against the controlling force. It is very convincing to the point that Sarra is not sure she believes it is merely an act. Of course, having a negative opinion of Lilian certainly doesn't lead her to positive conclusions.      The armor crumbles in seemingly random places, but those places also seem to give the wearer more power to resist. Sarra however wonders if getting rid of that thorny greenery will cause some kind of bigger reaction.      A purple blur comes racing in, giving Sarra some more breathing room (literally). "Thank you!" she exclaims to Woz, then...she ends up freezing in surprise a moment as Petra actually asks something from her. It is colored by foul language and a disrespectful tone, but it is still a request. And it is to undo something Lilian did?! "Well, this is a perfect time to try it~!" Sarra says, perhaps a bit too cheerfully.      Sarra pulls the head of her hammer close, and instead of trying to just bash the knight over she charges forward like a battering ram to knock the knight off her feet and land on her chest. With the weight of the princess and the hammer, Sarra is hoping she can hold the knight down.      And with the morphmetal getting involved, Sarra can't resist trying to use her own bits of it. As she sits atop the knight's chest, bearing down with the hammer and hooking her legs against the knight's hips to get some leverage, she gets a metallic gloved palm facing that thorny greenery and fires some silver spikes at it.
Angela	''It's actually *more* disrespectful to act like there's a script...'' Angela doesn't hear this but the scene cuts to her for a moment as if to speak to her own matters of being stuck to a script. She looks over to the Greatest, Kindest Demon King's little cartoon Angela and... ...Gosh, it actually is kind of cute. "...I see," She realizes. "You have been...taking a theatrical role yourself." She says, of villainy and Ohma. "Give and take..." Cinder murmurs. ''Damn it! Come on!'' "Ahah-, well, villainous overlords tend to do this sort of thing right? I guess it's kind of a classic in that regard--" ''You know I rescued Lilian from a villain's clutches first.'' Cinder's cheks turn bright red but that doesn't stop her from fighting. As Petra goes high for the mind controlled warrior, Cinder goes low, trying to trip the poor woman up to help disable her rather than going for Fourth Match Flame which could seriously hurt her, especially if she's armored--the armor heating up would last longer than whatever flames she unleashed from that weapon. To say nothing of the danger to the town. She might end up accidnetally lending Sarracenia an aid in this maneuver. MEANWHILE Angela frowns thoughtfully at Eggman, and watches him drink eggnog "Mm. Everyone she's destroyed has returned better. Well not everyone, I suppose, but most of them. I suppose she allows for a sort of rebirth like the phoenix." Angela's views on Petra tend to be more positive-languaged.
Lilian Rook	The lines are breaking down. People are flowing out. The town is in chaos. The ledgerman has no wagon and so is shaking the wagon driver to get on a horse and bolt that way. The guards are thinning in number, but still continually threatening and harming the civilians, and still numerous enough to charge Blossom and Princess with coordinated spear blitzes that leave them open to being testingly overwhelmed with scattered fire in their blindspots. The armoured knight, despite fighting to control herself, is still a whirwlind of bone-breaking danger to Sarracenia and Petra.     The edge of the blade, swung reflexively as Woz as he streaks past, some deeply ingrained battle-sense operating on bloody-minded autopilot even after landing his attack. Where the edge touches his suit, he feels something like flesh-scraping static grind through it, lightly bloodying his skin beneath the surface gouge and sparks. Mixed in with them are a handful that are black and gold.     Defending himself again turns him to face the knight, where he sees armour clattering irregularly away from his special attack; some of the cross-strike having been fended by the thick blackened steel, torn down to the padded inner layer, and some of it shattering as it falls five feet and hits cobblestone. The figure is frozen with her sword out, straining with all her might. She chokes up in fear in the path of Sarracenia's charge, but holds fast; either more frightened of what will happen if she moves, or determined to take the attempt at help. Petra wrenches the arm joint fully apart, and then morphmetal grapples her in place as Cinder trips her over.     The three of them hear a sharp, glassy crack. Then another. One of the violet shards in the chest fractures, and then the armour begins falling apart at the joints. In a cascade of clattering metal, the knight seems almost to disintegrate; the figure inside bodily collapses in the same motion as the armour crumbling around her. It's a hard impact with the pavement unless she's caught before she hits it. The look Petra sees up close is one of relief mingled with recognition and fear.     The woman inside is significantly shorter than 'the knight' had been. Her red hair had been done up by a professional to get inside the helmet, implying-- no, that's just the costume department's work. Probably. A traditional suit of armour would have a thicker dual-part gambeson inside, but hers is closer to a wetsuit, woven out of some mesh far finer than linen, making for enviable mobility and a classic girl-in-a-box look, all dark and stylishly accented.     Various points are studded with metallic contacts, but the chest bears a six-point mark-- surrounded by an elaborate circle and split through with a sword-mark into precisely misaligned halves-- where it would be in contact with the stained glass on the armour, still glowing. When she looks groggily up at the heroes, one eye is still brightly tainted. The originally-rose-thorn-clad shoulder seems preexistingly injured when she moves her arm to reach out silently. She appears to be in control of herself, so why . . . ?
Powerpuff Girls	MEANWHILE, At Castle Extra, Yuuki Kuran had settled, eyes closed as a second glass of 'wine' was silently brought to her. She had felt preturbed enough by the implication - some more-telling moment than simply dropping the hard Gundam Pilot 'I'll kill you' and turning away, but the enigmatic Director has a few things even she won't discuss. Rather, lifting a fresh glass towards Lilian's departing voice to play the role she seemed to relish, Yuuki wishes warmly towards the departing hostess. I hope you show them your fiercest form, after all this build. A personal invitation means so much. And then she's left with a particular room. Stagehand, who gets a particular glass-lifted salute, and then the Kuran Queen dips her fresh crystal glass to her nose, to consider and glance about at the shadowed room, and not the screens before her. The performance of a group of Heroes, adeptly picked apart by her Partners and their representatives and future selves. And something lingers with her, Director of such sorts. "Do you find it... amusing, that it is the Concord, so represented here? It makes me so tremendously glad of the brilliant participation of Sougo, Woz, and Sarracenia. It's simply right that we're on both ends, isn't it?" MEANWHILE, In The Melee Of Heroism Princess Morbucks has to land after divekicking some Odette-harassing asshole in the chest, sliding down in a quick skidding set of steps that draws her away from Odette, but the ginger armor super is far too in the zone to do much more than direct Odette to start, see her get up with new purpose, and keep going. Motivated by every one of the goons she can reach, as she guards the particular evacuation corridor down the main street of town, the targeting-guided Princess doesn't use her flight ceiling advantage at all, wading in with dotting-pink fists and thruster-boosted elbows towards the guards and sorts preventing the obvious towners from getting away. With her high-powered threat array, the skirted yellow is is any Powerpuff's equal and shows it in the streets, devolving into pom-pom'ed brawling that gets her clobbered around and sent shying by blows to the corseted chest and visored head. It's good that Princes, power field and all, has that Powerpuff staying power, and quick-jets to her feet from one such bedecking in the melee to catch a particular medic's voice in her ear. About someone in an alley - with a certain color of eye. "Girlie-!" Princess gasps, her tactical display clearing of crosshairs as her eyes seek through the buildings to re-acquire her charge she was drawn away from. She'd call it trust, but really it was selfish want to dive into punching and kicking on purpose. No no, let *her* do that. "I'm a hero, so--" Boosting into the air and immediately dashing down twice in a pink M pattern, Morbucks zips to the entrance of the alley at a blue-white jetwash flaring skid stop, and then lunges down the alley after Odette with a glove opened and trailing dots of pink and blurring jetwash momentum. "You're not going to take what's mine!" She declares, zipping about as Petra sings her own particular theme song by implication, at top speed to intercept a grab in progress.
Powerpuff Girls	MEANWHILE, On Stage, Blossom squints, considered-frowns, and then leans forward as if to catch the speaking ringleader on stage, listening intently. The motion - the hug, catching, holding, any of it isn't necessary, but also, among the safest spaces to be is within arm's reach of a Powerpuff Girl, and without even the delay of arrival, the one giving her what she asked for is truly safe indeed. "The right side..." She repeats, having intuited her charge's understanding of their mortal position relative to her intevention and instantly shifted to treating the 'enemy' as a disabled civilian in a dangerous location. "I'll stay on guard. Thank you for telling me." Blossom answers the honest truth given to her by the actor - clues, prepared by a supervillain - and superspeed swipes a handkerchief over the fleeing cultist's crimson face, leaving them facepaintless and without their 'bad guy' affiliation mask. "You can get out if you mix in with the civilians. Good luck!" The red puff urges, sotto voice, and gets a request from Brick over the radio. Tight mouthed, Blossom clears her own mist-cloud in a dispersing beam of pink-red that vectors away from the city square towards the forest at a high speed. Within one move action... The red Puff arrives at Brick, set up by his cave. The orange-haired Commander and Leader quirks an inquisitve brow at her partner in cardinal colors. "I'm supposed to be protecting civilians, Brick." She reminds him, pointedly, and then pops a hip out and plants a hand on it, gesturing out with the other hand. "What did you learn?" She asks, knowing that he'd only do so if he knew better and trusting implictly from the start.
Rowdyruff Boys	Brick tears his map of the way to the cave off his notepad and hands it to Blossom, "Keep this. It's a safe route through the kindly folk thickets. We may need to stash people, and that castle that was instant-constructed is... unsubtle. Get back out into the field as quickly as you're inclined. If there's a communications break-down, meet me here and lead whoever else is with you here." "I'm looking for armories, so I'll be here for a little while at least," he says, extending his notepad to bop Blossom lightly atop the head. "Be careful," he adds, before going back to recording geographical features and potential POIs.
Lilian Rook	Along the high route into town, the carriage approaches even still. Now well within range to hear and see the commotion, it diverts a turn early; by the looks of it, Aidan had scouted out the likely commons between several private manors, perhaps to visit the local collaborators, and now he's left to scurry back into position as the retinue instead takes a shorter path down.     Down and down, winding a sharp double pin from the cliff, then straight past the fine estates, and to the far edge, as close to overlooking the square as possible. Down far enough to see the horse drawing the carriage doesn't match the flanking guards; gaunt and demonic, skin seemingly of steel, mane and tail as plumes of ghastly-blue flames. The cloaked driver pulls it to a halt without a gesture. Deep red curtains remain down over the windows, but the finely worked door is pushed open, and the carriage rocks with the disembarkation of one occupant, then the other, and then the last.     Stepping down from their darkly appointed ride, first a masked woman in rich midnight blue, fur-collared robes, draped in decorative cords and bangles fastened with equal measures gold and obsidian against antler and bone and feather. It's hard to tell much more than her being blonde and pale from below, but she holds a gnarled and ominous staff seemingly well-suiting her role. She gestures, and a crow comes to rest on her arm, communing silently through her half-mask, obscuring her eyes.     Next, the tremendous footfalls of a heavily armoured figure, outstripping the black knights in both sheer quantity and baroque quality. A deep red cape drips from horned and fang-faced pauldrons, nearly brushing the ground where they tread, matching the demonic visage of their elaborate helmet. A sword even larger than the others is carried in a sling scabbard across their back.     They step aside with rehearsed ease, taking their proper places to flanking sides of the carriage, one step down on the rise to be that one step closer to earth. The armoured figure holds out their hand, and it is delicately taken by the black-gloved figure that reaches out from the shadowed interior. The other is reverently held by the masked sage. Neither are needed in the slightest to support who comes down.     Her feet don't even touch the road. From shockingly far away, you can hear the theatrical clack of heel on echoing marble, though not necessarily see the spark of shadow-and-star that they step on in lieu of terra firma. The following snap of her fingers echoes just as sharply as in a vaulted cathedral hall, and ghostly lights flare up around the carriage assembly, orbiting the retinue in a slow-revolving dance that casts a stage light-grade glow.
Lilian Rook	For just an instant, you almost don't register who it is. Her hair is let all the way down to her hips in criss-crossing waves. Her dress starts at the throat, skips the arms completely, and ends early, completed by a trailing wake of attached skirts that glitter like the tinted sky on the inside, visible from the front split.     Figure perfect black exposes shoulders down until the aristocratic gloves and a slash of thigh just before dark leggings flowing into high heels, edged with gothic lace that creates the illusion of the weave unraveling into individual strands at their edges. Ostentatious gold embroidery as a first-time deliberate choice, flower-patterning a dress fastened by exterior corset and ring-fastened straps more than anything else, backed with wine red lining. Held up by the neck, backless is a given, but villainous cleavage is completely and utterly unprecedented. The polished black armour woven into her right glove only superficially resembles her usual.     A royal torc replaces a tiara or crown; more traditional, and more visible, made of a naggingly familiar helix pattern, its arms enclosed around a miniscule twin to the black hole in the sky. Dramatically dark eyeliner balances shock-green lipstick, matching her eyes. The shape of her pin is still visible in her hair, but laborious effort has threaded with fresh blossoms of red spider lilies, covering up the original white gold. A lily that symbolizes death and separation, growing from the lily that represents rebirth and purity. For dramatics. Clearly.     But it's not clear how she got a halo. A thin red(?) band of light that outlines her head like the limned edge of the singularity. It distracts and draws attention back to her eyes when yours wander.     The witch at her side causes the tip of her staff to glow, and when she speaks, a semi-familiar, yet unusually cold voice cuts all the way down to the town square below. The soldiers don't strictly stop in place, but need to move very little, as every one of the townsfolk locks up in fear and dread.     "It is my pleasure to announce the arrival of Mistress Liliana Lycoris, Queen of the Hungering Star." she says, with perfectly soft-severe flat affect. "Pay your respects. It is more than you deserve that her illustrious name be shortened for your lowly ears."     With steppy heel click-after-clack to the cliff edge, definitely not Lilian, the most radiantly content that she's ever not been, pauses at just the level she remains a head above her two subordinates, and with smoulderingly theatrical affect, says "I would welcome you, strangers, as honoured guests. But before you can be taken in as friends, first you mustn't keep secrets from me."     Leaning forward, she presses her fingertip to her cheek, arm folded under her chest. "So tell me. Why must you sew chaos in my nearly-perfect town? I detest sights like these; so disorderly and loud. If you can behave, you'll find that my people have hospitality to spare. Or is it . . ."     Lilian takes the deepest, sultriest, most enthusiastic-to-deliver-a-line sigh she ever has in her life. "Are you another band of heroes to be added to my . . . collection~"