Super Interlude 1: Not Very Well Met I Guess

As soon as she was finished posing with the handcuffs, Wither returned them to the new girl that they had recently just made acquaintances with. She looked at her hands, which were very clearly still shaking from the massive shot of modified adrenaline that she had given herself. Everything still looked blurred around the edges, a side effect that she had once enjoyed. Now it just made her sick, both with motion sickness and regret. Still, she had to count the small victories in her graceless fall off the wagon. They had Lucky again, and they had a very useful witness. Who was still passed out, granted. But they had something, and considering what had been sacrificed to get here that was a whole hell of a lot better than nothing.

"Alright, so he's probably at mach speed if the lunch hour traffic isn't crippling him," she reasoned as she rubbed her wrists upon successfully returning the cuffs to the girl. "Just... a fair warning, he's not the most rational in his snap decisions. He's reasonable enough though, I certainly don't see him flying off the handle to an unreasonable degree..." She looked over to her little pupil, hoping to check in. "...And how are you doing, Lucky? I'm sorry that was such a sore first pass.... but considering the circumstances, I think you handled yourself just beautifully."


Meanwhile, in Shade's car, Yuliya had just gotten herself whiplash'd awake. And boy, it had not done anything for the headache she had achieved earlier that morning, when the grand trial of fuckery had tested all of them. She held on to her head and glanced around meekly for her coffee; wanting at least some form of creature comfort while being ham sandwiched in the back with her absolutely wonderful colleagues.

"Ver are ve going in such a rush? Vat is so important zat it vas vorth snapping our necks over?" she huffed, staring grumpily into her coffee. She tried her best to pretend like she wasn't sulking over her nap being interrupted, though. She was totally definitely more grown up than that.

The car was going fast. Very fast, actually. And Roy was fine with going fast, but in the current situation, he was not a happy camper. Probably because somebody else was at the wheel and he was just a passenger.

"Yeah you know Yuliya, I'd LOVE to give you an answer on that, really, I would...if Shade would ANSWER US ON WHAT'S GOING ON." He stated rather pointedly at their driver, staring over at him from the backseat. However, after waiting a few seconds for a response, his gaze shifted to the passenger seat.

The rat was there, but Nick...

He looked to the backseat, and took note of Yuliya. Confused, his eyes flickered back and forth between the front and back of the car before it finally hit him.

"Holy shit we left Nick behind." Roy stated the fact in a sense of dull, disbelieving shock. He brought his hands up and glanced around the car once more, as if to make sure, before sitting back and taking a breath.

"We, ah...yeah! Yeah. We got the rat, but Nick, we left the guy behind...back there at the museum..." So much for a good first day of work.

"...we've gotta go back and get him, unless he's gonna make like a rabbit and abra-ca-fuck on out of your phone again like before."

This was all so strange. She decided to trust these guys, but still, it was so strange. She could practically hear her father scolding her from his grave for working with these people, but she wanted answers. Besides, aside from breaking a few of her ribs, they didn't seem...bad? Wither, maybe. The one named Lucky, however, he didn't exactly seem like would harm even a fly.

In fact, he'd probably cry if he did from what she judged.

The older woman, the one she handcuffed only to release only to re-cuff for the sake of a photo, spoke up about her 'boss'. A sense of dread overcame Robyn, a feeling that she needed to keep from causing panic to her. She already messed up big time by freaking out so much back at the museum, she could not allow for that happen again.

"...what kind of dog did you just sick on me?" she questioned Wither.

--

The abyss was comforting. Sometimes it felt nice to just sit inside a more primitive device. It gave him time to reflect, devoid of distractions. It was almost like meditation, or at least what meditation was supposed to grant someone. He had tried that before but to no avail. His mind would always become clouded and clustered with his own thoughts in the real world. Here, however, was somewhere he was in control. He could pick through his thoughts much easier without the outside world to derail him.

Unfortunately, real life decided that it could still manage to ruin his moment of zen. He checked back on the camera of the small collar, weak as it was, he could see that his poor rat had made it into an empty seat of what appeared to be Shades car. Lucy looked about, he could see Shade driving. Yep, this was Shade's car. What the hell was the fuss about? Were they being chased? Time to hop out and find out before they ended up sending Lucy through the windshield.

He reappeared on the passenger side of the vehicle just as Roy finished talking about how they should head back and get him. Lucy gave a startled squeak before she dipped to the side of the passenger seat and avoid being crushed by Him. Once he was seated, she jumped back up onto his lap. She welcomed the hands that cupped around her and held her in place.

"Present." Nick stated simply.

So, they were getting Shade to come to them by making him believe Wither was in danger; by provoking him, rather than just telling him someone wanted to meet him. He was already a moody jerk in the first place, so Lucky, for one, was not looking forward to seeing how he would be over this. He didn't protest, though, figuring it would be resolved once Wither explained the situation. Actually, he was more concerned about how he didn't get to be in the group photo. Like, was he not good enough to be Shade bait or something? ...In hindsight, yeah, he probably wasn't, considering how little the guy seemed to like him. The realization made him wonder if he'd even have any efforts put toward helping him if he ended up in trouble. Wither would probably try, he figured, but... would the guy in charge of the whole group? And would he even let anyone else make the attempt if he, himself, didn't want to go along with it? Lucky wondered if, perhaps, he had been recruited into this - whatever "this" was supposed to be - to inevitably end up on his own.

Why had he even agreed in the first place? Because he romanticized the idea of being a hero, but... Well, he seemed out of place here, considering everyone else had either training or literal superpowers; in most cases, both. He had neither and was only here through a filing error or something; he didn't belong on this team, and after getting held up and almost stabbed on his first day, he was starting to realize how out of his depth he was. He could have been at home, watching TV and eating popcorn, but instead he was getting all kinds of sharp objects pointed at him just for existing. He knew from the start that it'd probably be dangerous, but he had been put on the spot and hadn't carefully considered the risks involved, and he really hadn't expected it to be this bad. And... looking back, he wasn't sure if being able to see the future would have even changed his decision. For some reason, even now, he still wanted to keep going with this... this. He was probably going to end up getting himself hurt or killed, but hey, he really wanted to be a hero.

He just hoped Shade wouldn't blame him for this just by reason of not liking him. Wither wanted to know how he was doing, but he didn't really want to say. "I'm fine; didn't get stabbed," he gave a simple, joking response that he could justify to himself as true, because it really was. A smile was granted along with his words, the whole thing being presented in a lighthearted manner so as not to worry the nice lady... and the girl who'd not-so-subtly threatened to shoot him. He didn't care too much about worrying that one, actually, and he doubted she'd care anyway. All she seemed to care about was knowing things, like who the one in charge was. As she was now clarifying, she also wanted to know what he was like, or in her own words, what kind of "dog" he was. Definitely an attack dog. "He's just great," he answered the question himself, his the remark dripping with sarcasm. Despite how she liked to point her bow at things, the girl still deserved to know Shade was a grumpy guy. Probably. Who used a bow anyway? Was she trying to be Robin Hood?

...Actually, Wither had called her Robin. Was she Robin Hood!? No, wait, Robin Hood was supposed to be a guy, and... not a real person, right? Or at least, definitely not a presently living person. Maybe she was, like, Robin Hood's great granddaughter or something? Or maybe Robin Hood was actually a girl, and immortal!

Probably not. Maybe that was just her superhero persona? Maybe she was just supposed to be Robin Hood except a girl and 10 years old and WAY TOO EAGER TO POINT THAT BOW AT EVERYTHING.

"No dog I can't handle," Wither assured Robyn with a wave of her hand. She smirked at Lucky's accurate sarcasm; the man did have his quirks. She knew she could trust him to make the right decisions, though. He had been at this kind of work much longer than she had, after all. For the moment, she turned and addressed Lucky because it was kind of irresistible. "I'm glad you're alright. It's hard to catch the tempo in these situations when you're new to investigating, but it's good to try even when you're a newbie. Now that you've had a little taste, I think I can help you a little more." She smiled and added, "Also, to be fair, you would have been fine even if you had gotten stabbed. Probably in more pain, but I've got stuff for that."

She turned back to responding to Robyn. "He's outwardly coarse; he's got paranoia issues and he forces himself to be grittier than he is to compensate, but he's nothing if not logical. I'm sure he'll be approaching this tactically." Wither explained as she took a seat on the edge of a table covered in a canvas cloth. She pulled the giant med kit off her back and set it down beside her before pausing to think. "I mean, there's no way he'd act brash with two heads on the line. It wouldn't do him any good if he did, anyways. I wouldn't make you confront him alone and he can't get through me when my blood is 12% adrenaline." It was a pretty blunt fact. She was jacked up to the nth degree and she still had snares left over. "Don't worry. One step at a time. We have a more immediate concern here, anyways..."

The med kit looked like a damn surgery ward when she opened it up. Layers of supplies well beyond standard first aid were strapped to the casing and even more organized neatly in accordion shelves that popped up when the kit was fully open. Standard stuff like gauze, masks, gloves, a CPR kit, bandages, antiseptic, ect. were clearly visible alongside much more advanced tools like scalpels, needles and thread, a portable AED, something that looked like a small hot glue gun, casting materials, compresses, a myriad of emergency room drugs DEFINITELY not obtained over-the-counter... there were even what looked like miniature versions of IV drip and transfusion bags, both empty and full. The empty ones had tubes at either end instead of just one.

She pulled on a fresh pair of gloves and prepared a compress.

"...You want somebody to have a look at you?" she asked. "Or do you like being purple and throbby? I'm not judging."

While she prepared her other materials, her mind turned back to Lucky again. "And you, boyo; I won't leave you hanging on that help. While we're here, I want you to think of some questions to ask me. Whatever you want to learn more about. Go 'head and tell me about whatever you did up to the point where we met back up, and while you're going through if you hit a point where you feel like you need elaboration, stop there and ask me. Tips on how to approach things, how to pick up on social cues, or maybe just questions that came up in your head while you were in there. Anything is an acceptable topic, no question is stupid."


Very helpful answers from very helpful people. Good communication. Yuliya would just have to wait for the grumpy man to relinquish some answers. She became momentarily distracted anyways when the absence of the constant frown with a metal arm was pointed out. Had he been there in the first place? She was pretty sure it had just been the three of them before, they must have picked him up somewhere while she was asleep. It seemed they had picked up a rat as well. That was probably Roy's fault.

"Oh shit," Yuliya coughed as Nick suddenly materialized in the seat next to her where a rat had been. Holy shit. Yuliya peered at the boy's ass for a second, in memory of the creature that had once been there. What a way to go. She almost kind of felt sorry-

Oh. No, the rat was fine. She had almost gone and wasted energy on pity. She wouldn't make that mistake again.

"You vere vrong. He fuck'd out of a rat," she stated flatly.

Robyn, with a 'y' not 'i', was unsettled to hear what the others had to say about whoever they attracted. The one named "Lucky" gave a sarcastic tone while Wither went on to explain in more detail. She found herself uncertain of her situation yet again, uneasy as she questioned whether or not what she did was the right thing. Was she still doing the right thing or was she just falling into some kind of trap? They certainly seemed trustworthy.

"Sooo, literally a diet Batman," she commented before she continued to ask, "Approach this tactfully as in peacefully or should I expect a bullet to say 'hi' to my brain soon?" The tactical approach to such a situation they painted themselves in, would have been to just snipe the guards for the prisoners from afar. At least, that was her tactical way of putting it. If she had a friend in danger it would have been easier to just incapacitate the guard from afar so that she could approach peacefully.

The pains reminded her that she was already partially incapacitated. The damage dealt by "The Ghost of Katrina" was far greater than she thought it was. She was not the only one to notice this, as Wither seemed to crack out...a highly unsettling amount of medical devices. She could not help but to shy away from the pack of Surgeon Simulator despite the woman's offer to help.

"Uhh..." she hesitated. Her father always told her that if she were ever hurt, she was to either go to the nearest hospital or go home to be treated. Anxiety almost always had her homeward-bound these days. They may have seemed trustworthy, but not quite enough to allow them to poke her full of needles just yet, "No, I'll be fine." She already filled her day with terrible decisions so far, so she figured it was time to put a stop to that.

If only she knew she picked the wrong one.

Fuck this traffic. Turn off your blinker. You aren't even turning! Come on, Grandma, I havent got all damn day. Gah, fuck all of this!

I turn the wheel and send us into oncoming traffic for a moment. Horns blare. I hear some tires screeching. Doesnt seem like anyone gets in an accident though. I cut the wheel again and we head down a back alley. I really dont have time for traffic right now.

How did she get caught? I thought she was smarter than that. And who is it? Whoever's responsible for the robberies? Or someone else? It couldn't be security, could it? No, security would have just processed them. Sent them to the police if they did anything. This wasn't conventional.

Have to assume that they're dangerous if they managed to capture those two. Wither's experienced and knew how to handle herself. The kid is exceptionally talented, even if he doesn't know it. I have to assume this is a dangerous situation. Treat it with maximum caution.

They keep on asking where we're going. Everyone is talking.

"Someone or multiple someones has Wither and Lucky. We're going to get them back. I'll need your all's help."

As I swerve from one alley to the next, I realize I don't have a plan. I have no information about the enemy. Way I see it, there are two options: Maximum Passivity or Maximum Lethality.

I've got to err on the side of caution.

"I'm going to need all of you to be on your game. We don't know what we're walking into here. I need you to run as the middle men on this for me. I can't promise you won't get hurt, but I'll do everything in my power to prevent that. And by 'everything', I mean the high-powered rifle I have in the trunk.

"Can I count on you all to help?"

If not, I'll have to do this differently. Can't expect to force them into something like this.

"Yes. You've got the right picture in mind." Wither nodded as she continued to fiddle around with her supplies. "....Oh, yes, I mean peaceful tactics. I'm talking in a negotiation sense. He would never risk rushing in this blind. It would put the kiddos at risk." She continued to fiddle, until Robyn stated that she did not want help. Wither turned her head slowly, an incredulous gesture. She waited a moment to see if the girl wanted to do the wise thing and change her mind.

"....You what?" She asked. "...You said you wouldn't like someone to check and make sure your rib cage isn't broken in seven places? You wouldn't like this cold compress to keep the swelling from becoming damaging or these ace bandages to make sure the heal in the proper alignment?" She continued, you know, just to confirm. "I totally get that. I also like to wait and get a trained professional to charge me near $500 for sitting in an office for an hour when another professional offers to do it for free," she chortled. "I get that it looks intimidating, but I'm not proposing to stick you or anything. Don't have the time to even if I was. I'm just offering to make sure that your thoracic cavity will remain uncollapsed."

In that moment, something occurred to Wither. Something she had said earlier suddenly flashed through her mind again, forcing her to pause and think. "The kids......... oh. Shit."

"I forgot.

She slowly looked up towards Lucky.

"They have the Russian."


The flying prostitute and Lucky were captured? How? It wasn't really a big deal that the former was in captivity, but Lucky... that was definitely cause for concern. He really wasn't the type to deserve that kind of setup. She hated to think how he would handle it; or rather, how he wouldn't be able to. Besides, if the group lost him than basically all the moral in their setup went with him. He was nice to be around, soothing... and after the stunt this morning she owed it to him to make sure he didn't have to deal with any more people pointing guns at him.

"I figured. You cannot promise zat ozer people will not get hurt, zough," she remarked plainly.

Nick was suddenly there in the passenger seat once more. Roy let out a surprised yell at the sight in the moment. It was totally a deep and masculine yell. Definitely nothing high pitched and a little terrified, and anyone who said otherwise was a lying, scheming piece of shit. End of story. Yuliya said something about him fucking out of a rabbit, and while there were plenty of ways he wanted to respond to that, Shade was finally giving them some answers on what was going on.

Apparently somebody had Wither and Lucky. That made Roy a little worried. Wither seemed pretty capable before, so whatever had happened to cause that must have been a little hinky. And as for Lucky...well there wasn't really any specific reason like with Wither to worry about the fact that Lucky had been kidnapped, he was just worried about the guy's well-being.

Then came the big question, the cry for help. Yuliya seemed to be pretty on-board with it.

"What? No." Roy simply stated, giving Shade an incredulous look from the backseat. He held the look for a second before snorting and waving his hand.

"Nah, I'm just kidding. Yeah, sure, let's kick some ass. We got a plan, or are we just kind of...zerg rushing the place? Because I am totally down to freestyle, I just kind of figured I'd ask."

--Nick--

He was quick to put on his seatbelt, though it was difficult with Shade driving as if he were in a demolition derby. Lucy clung her tiny paws to his pants as he ignored the not-a-little-bitch scream Roy gave off upon his appearance. At last, Shade gave answers. Wither and Lucky were captured. Was it him or did Wither have an affinity for getting caught? First the group and now this? He hoped this would not become a reoccurring theme. The last thing they needed was a damsel in distress.

Shade asked if they would help-a stupid question.

He remained silent as Yulia vocalized her agreement while Roy faked out a rejection only to immediately recall it. The heely boy then gave a suggestion of what to do about the situation, to which Nick immediately replied, "Are you stupid?"

It was rude, but luckily he elaborated, "If we're going into their territory and they're intelligent, which I'm assuming so if they managed to trap Shade's friend, then they likely have a plan for if we decide to suicide-run in. We'd probably become swiss cheese before we even get in."

"It'd be far safer to scout the place out first. Figure out who's there, where, and determine if we can incapacitate anyone threat-worthy. If we're really in such a rush though, then it would be best to have one or two go in visibly unarmed and have someone watch from afar with that rifle and pick off anybody that gets too close," he finally concluded. Man, that was probably the most he'd spoken all day...

Wither bickered with Possibly-Robin-Hood over the idea of treating her injuries with the pop-up book of medkits, and this topic quickly became dominant in the conversation. Lucky, with his lacking medical expertise and somewhat concerned mood, found himself abstaining and keeping to silence. He still didn't know what had hit the bow-wielding maniac in the first place, let alone how bad she was hurt from it. In other words, he had no way of knowing how badly she was hurt, so he didn't know if she needed help. Thus, he said nothing to encourage her to accept Wither's offer; given a moment's time, he may have reconsidered and decided to trust Wither, but he was not afforded that moment before the fleeting topic of conversation shifted once more. This time, he had something to add; a lot of somethings, actually, but it was hard to find the words with which to describe... Yuliya.

Lucky wasn't always the brightest guy around, but even he knew how capable Yuliya was in a fight. She had challenged and stood toe-to-toe with Zen, who was supposed to be an instructor for the group. She'd also been the one to really get at Wither, who also happened to be quite capable, at least from what he could gather. Yes, he could understand the apparent concern at the realization that the Russian would be coming along, convinced that two of the group had been kidnapped... Maybe she could keep a cool head or at least be restrained if it were just Wither, but... Yuliya liked him, or at least, from what he could tell. Suddenly, the idea of no one caring about his safety seemed a lot more appealing. Shade would almost definitely be upset in one way or another, and now, in hindsight, it was possible he wouldn't be the only one. Regardless, if the one-girl army was sent in, Lucky felt a bit... concerned for the other little girl. She had a bow, but Yuliya had a Yuliya, and she would probably be hard to stop once she got started.

He returned Wither's stare for a moment, a worried frown forming on his face. "Oh..." he muttered in recognition of the concern now merited in these circumstances. He was silent for only a moment before deciding to speak up and voice his opinion this... plan. "Call it off, then! Tell them you're not kidnapped! They're gonna come in here all upset and kill Robin Hood! Whose plan was this!?" he shouted frantically and rather judgmentally, considering he had gone along with it too. Still, he at least had an excuse in that he wasn't part of the conception of this idea, and he hadn't really been fully aware of it in the first place. And he wasn't supposed to be a strategist or anything anyway; he was in the group because he had superpowers, or at least, they thought he did. He definitely had powers that made up for his total lack of experience and skill. Totally.

"Just call Shade and explain. Why'd we need to be all secret in the first place?" he continued in a more hushed tone, though still panicky and full of concern. Now he was thinking not only about the Robin Hood's safety, but also about how she liked waving that bow of hers around. What if someone decided to attack her and she shot them, or what if they didn't, and she just shot them anyway? Lucky was no tactician, of which he was fully aware, but this plan was seeming worse and worse by the second, at least from his perspective.

She was nervous. She needed to calm down. Deep breaths, it hurt, but it needed to happen. Unfortunately, it did not help that Wither suddenly began to go on about some Russian. It also did not improve when Lucky suddenly went off in a panic. Wait, so did this mean they weren't cool?

"K-Kill me?" she stammered, the issue of her injuries forgotten in favor of the major concern of her possible demise. "I gotta side with Lucky on this one, tell them you're not kidnapped!"

So much for calming down. She didn't want to die! Especially for something so trivial.