Kasoh

Having removed the doors from the equation, Dynamo Rose stormed into the Sedadyne HQ lobby. A large aura of electricity danced around her, arcing to other metal surfaces. With a frown, Rose reigned in the aura as she didn't want to fry any computer hardware.

Her first thought was to neutralize any receptionists before they sounded the alarm. It may be an honest investigation, but they needed time to tear the place apart without hero interruption. Then, she'd find a floor plan and pick her next destination.

Sighing, Jameson shook her head, "Saints preserve us..."

It wasn't hostile, but it wasn't very helpful either. Dropping her mask and trying to talk to the thing would be a poor tactical decision in Jameson's opinion. So, she relied on her training.

With a flex of her wrist, her widow claws extended into the long blade segments, the poison running down the edges. Taking a moment to carefully find the most obvious vulnrable point on the creature, Jameson plunged her blades into its neck at the base of what would be a human's skull, hoping to seperate the head from its neck.

Hopefully it was a robot, and she'd just have to clean her weapons instead of go to confession afterwards.

Jameson blinked. Twice. Then she rubbed her eyes and looked again.

There actually was someone sitting outside the bar, looking suspicious. Not terribly worrisome, but did it actually think that hiding in the bushes like that hid anything?

Two ways to handle it. Kill it and wander back into the bar, or find out if it actually was stalking the mad scientist and then encourage to leave--or kill if it came to that.

Bah. Stupid sixth commandment.

...and there went her buzz.

"You here for the kook in the lab coat?" she said, focusing her senses on to the red individual before her. She'd likely know what he'd do before he did.

Jameson slipped out the back of the bar, her steps light as she looked around. She couldn't see anything in the back, and unless it was nearby, most things wouldn't be able to see her through the psychic mask she was operating under.

Her widow claws snickt'd as she drew the potent weapons. Glancing around, Jameson started to circle the bar and its environs, doing a thorough search for suspicious characters.

"If this kills my buzz, I'm going to be pissed." she muttered.

Jameson tilted her head as Brian asked for her help. Her first thought was 'God no', but that wasn't very Christian of her now, was it?

Her Foresight wasn't giving any danger pings, but it wasn't that accurate out of three or so minutes.

"Sure." she said, her voice emoting pure neutrality. She have a half wave to Spencer as she stood up and followed after Brian.

Rose waited for a minute outside the headquarters of Sedadyne. Briefly, she summed up their current level of knowledge for anyone not in the know.

A black hat named Clancy Stein, goes by Wrecthause who has a beef with some do gooder, Frank Wellman, and he was one of the kidnappers. None of the Rouge Isle regens were here, but if Sedadyne is behind all of the dissapearances, then they might have records of where they're keeping the others here."

Rose powered up her armor, the blood red electricity surging across the metal armor. "I was going to kick down the door and smash my way through. If you don't want to be shot at, You can go around the back."

And she proceeded to kick the door off its hinges and storm inside, her hands glowing bright as they hummed with power.

Operative Jameson held back on a sigh. Whoever this guy in the lab coat was, he was either a mad scientist or an escaped mental patient.

Still not nearly drunk enough to not care about her job, She took the effort to memorize his facial features. Later she could investigate him and if he was new to mad science, send a recruiter. Never hurt to pad the eval where you could.

Otherwise, she turned back to her glass and drank.

Truth or Lie? It was always the big gamble. If the barkeep was worth his salt, he wouldn't rat her out, at least until he saw what kind of tipper she was.

Of course, then she recalled the day. Still in the middle of Lent. Crap.

Next year she was going to give up killing. Much more difficult, but she was sure it would lead to much less awkward conversations.

"I work out of the Arachnos Special Investigations office. Mostly I investigate the deaths of Destined One Candidates."

Jameson wasn't phased by the bag of money. She looked at it with an arched brow, calculating how much money was inside. At least Spencer and his partner were competent at what they did.

"Dreams?" She said as she stared into her glass, "Don't do much dreaming anymore."

Snorting, Jameson finished her glass, "Sorry. Not quite in the spirit of things, right? You're celebrating, I'm comiserating."

She gave the duffel a light kick, "Only problem with forced withdrawls from Paragon City Banks is that the money runs out eventually and you're forced to do it again."

Waving the bartender over, Jameson ordered a glass of Jameson's, neat.

Jameson paused. It had been a long time since she'd actually had a friendly conversation with someone. Or had a need to use her first name. What the hell, she figured. Might as well give it a go,

"I'm Rosemary. So, Spencer, how is that retire early thing working out?"

Jameson looked up at Tony, "Nocturne is a pansy, but Sands is sweet on her. He won't kill her, and she can't kill him. Castillo will go first. If the hero is smart, he'll let them finish each other off."

She didn't place a bet though, gambling was not smart on a Widow's payroll and a Grandville apartment to maintain.

I've found that if you dont' write down the stuff that comes to mind, it'll stay there. If its not pleasant, you might be better off writing it down, even if no one ever reads it.

The story getting out hand has happened to me before. I've written something intending one thing, and one of the characters does something unexpected. It happens. Some might call it more organic, others would say that you should scrap the character and get one who follows the plot. Either way works as long as you like the final product.

Well, the Praetorians are dark. and Creepy. Rather than Goatees to let you know they're evil you get well...that mess.

But a story about Dominatrix and Tyrant? I'd read it. Don't know if I'd like it, but I'd read it.

Rose nodded at Dr. Lore. "Good idea. I'll let you gentlemen handle picking yourselves up and getting back fighting the good fight and whatnot." She said to the heroes as she started walking out the Garage door.

Halfway out the door, she turned and pointed to Cher'tak "I'll ping you guys if we find anymore of your blues."

Switching to the encrypted comm channel, Rose messaged, "I'm going to check out the Sedadyne HQ next door. I'll wait across the street for a minute if anyone else wants to come along."

As she walked back into the streets she checked on her searches of those names the captives mentioned.

Jameson sipped her Guinness and looked at Spencer. She shrugged, full shoulders and replied, "Looks nice enough. Needs a bit more seasoning, but I figure its a right proper placed to get smashed after you threw things at your boss."

Taking a long drink, Jameson shook her head. Not the place or people to be airing her dirty laundry with. Not for a few more drinks anyway.

"And you? How's the great game going?"

Jameson had exchanged the Nightwidow suit for tough black jeans, a slightly armored undershirt and a black leather jacket with the Arachnos logo emblazoned on the breast. On her belt in the small of her back were the infamous Widow smoke grenades and her widow claws still sat sheathed on her arms. A pair of sunglasses hung from an unzipped pocket.

She approached her waiting drinks, thanked the barkeep and slammed the two shots with a quickness that seemed supernatural, her eyes watering just a little with the burn.

Rosemary might have recognized Bladed Mirage, but most of the Destined One candidates she knew were dead and awaiting investigation. As the thug leaning on the bar gave his shakedown speech, her hand unconsciously reached into her pocket to finger her rosary, mumbling a quiet prayer in Latin.

That task done, the Widow glanced at Gorge, nodding her head to the thug, 'Did he want Arachnos Intervention?' It was her duty to maintain order on the isles, even if she was facing suspension and only wanted to get blind drunk.

Taking a seat at the bar in front of her pint, She kept her eye on Gorge and the thug.

The face of that sneering Arbiter still fouled her expression as she stormed out of the Arachnos Goverment Building. Walking by the reflecting pool, she stopped to get a good look.

Operative Rosemary Anne-Magdelane Jameson stared into her reflection. Hard blue eyes, long straight blonde hair, usually covered by her Nightwidow helmet. The helmet that had been thrown at her snarky Arbiter Psychologist.

The dark and reflective texture of her Nightwidow armor glinted in the afternoon light. Way to early in the afternoon to get bolloxed. But, she probably wouldn't have a job tomorrow, so to hell with it. Shouldering her duffel, Jameson sought to get well and pissed.

She pulled off her neck piece as she wandered around Port Oakes, looking for a place that would at least serve her.

Finally, she came across The Den. It was new, she hadn't seen it before at least, so the bar would be clean.

Stepping inside, Jameson confirmed her suspicion, the place was new. The heavy scent of liquor and smoke didn't permeate everything yet. Almost a pity.

Noticing the glances her uniform got, She shook her head, "Not here for a shakedown gents" She had been born and raised on the Etoile Islands but her voice held a trace of Ireland in it. She blamed her grandmother, but that was neither her nor there.

Stepping up the bar, Jameson held up two fingers, "Two shots of Jameson, a pint of Guinness. Where's the bathroom? I need to get out of this spook suit."

Vaugely irritated that she had been recognized despite having a new look and a face concealing visor, Dynamo Rose listened as best she could. Yeah, definately sounded like mad science of some sort.

Rose nodded at the heroes as she recorded the information they gave. She began to google 'Wrecthause' 'Clancy Stein' and this 'Frank Wellman'.

"They bring in any black hats? probably stalkers." Rose displayed the faces of the missing villains and showed them to the heroes, "I know you probably don't care what happens to them, but we do."

It wasn't a complete lie, after all, she was being paid to care.

While she waited a for a response, Rose began to ping the comm gear of the rest of team. She saw Cassie, Jack and Lore, but as to Millions, Stalhound, and Drago...she had no idea where they were. She especially wasn't going to update Manning with their Crey Rep missing.

Rose double checked the list. Crap. She thought about repeating what the Rikti said, but that would probably annoy the heroes, and if she was being honest with herself, quite childish.

She had shared living quarters with mass murderers on jobs before, and she couldn't bring herself to talk to a soldier? Focusing on the job, and the free dental, Rose spoke to the Rikti, "None of mine are here." she said to Cher'tak.

Grabbing a small holoprojector from her belt, Rose transmitted her list of names and pictures to the device, offering it for the Rikti to see. "They're all blues."

There. Now her twisted mind would allow her to sleep at night, having offered what was the closest thing she had to an apology.

[ QUOTE ]
"Name: Cher'tak," he began. "Myself, others: Mission: Rescue yourselves, others: From: Unknown attackers. Query: Your names, aliases. Additionally: Memories: Kidnappers, time: captured."

[/ QUOTE ]

Rose nodded her head at the Rikti, "What he said. And if you've been moved about and where the rest of your fellow captives might be."

Good grief. There was nothing.

Looking around the remains of the Sedadyne warehouse interior, Dynamo Rose flipped over some tables, checked under the exploded remains of corpses for something--anything that could illuminate more about what was going on there.

And apparantly there wasn't a damn thing.

Glancing back at the Rikti by cages, Cassie and her Assault-bot working on the disembodied head, Rose cussed.

So. Swallow her pride and go over and help interview hostages, or fumble around in the wreckage and hope there was something she missed?

"F***, f***, f***. Dan always said my mouth would get me in trouble."

Taking a long loop around to the cages, Rose pulled up her files on the missing regens. If any of these blokes looked like them, she'd be able to tell.

Standing next to the cage, Rose began to scan their faces. She didn't speak to the Rikti, and hoped he wouldn't actually mention it.

Rose could feel her jaw tighten and some sharp words were rising in her throat. Rose O'Grady had been accused of being ultra-rational in the past, but that was...before. Living a life of unmitagated violence changes people.

She looked the Rikti Soldier up and down. He didn't look special, like one of the many she'd killed in her time free of Ziggursky. He could be one of the 'nice' Rikti, she supposed. Vanguard have given her a stack of papers three hundred pages tall when she signed up. There was a lot about them she didn't understand, but she did know one thing.

"Well, last time I checked, we won, so you don't really get to demand anything, do you?" She finally said. That her statement withheld most of the usual slurs or impolite things was a testament to her control.

Ignoring the captives, Rose wandered off deeper into the wreckage, looking for a salvagable computer. Information was what Crey needed, let somone else play nurse.

When the explosions stopped echoing in her ears, Rose wiped some ninja off of her armor and scanned the area for hostiles.

Thankfull that her suit was using a self contained breathing apparatus, Dynamo Rose switched her HUD from visual to thermal imaging until the smoke cleared.

Reaching to her belt, the hitwoman grabbed her Aeon Corp. Handheld Medical Device. It whirred to life as it began its warmup message
Thank you for choosing Aeon Corp. for your First Aid requirements. This device is very fragile, please do not jostle, shake, or expose to dangerous mater--

She jammed her thumb on the 'skip' button, set the level of pain to 'Ow' and let it rip.

As the device worked, Rose wondered idly if this was another demon derived piece of technology--then realized it wouldn't make a difference in whether she used it or not.

Replaced on her belt, the brute called out, "Okay, speak up if you aren't dead. If you need first aid, say 'Ow'."

((All the explody minions done exploding? What's left?))

Why yes, I am a second rate Nemesis.

"Oh for F**** sake." Rose muttered as the ninja began to count down.

She tossed the closest one into a corner away from the fighters and quickly moved to the next one. Hopefully, she could get enough of the them so as not to destroy any useful clues.

Rose was quite relieved when Dr. Lore went over to the prisoners. Her own medical talents were somewhere higher than slim, and little better than none. Hell, she had to *buy* a Aeon Inc Medical Tricorder to her permanent chagrin.

Satisfied that the superstrong doctor had things well in hand, Rose punched the tentacle that was wrapping itself around her leg.

"I've seen to many movies that started like this, and no thank you!" She snapped as the ripped the tentacle from its dark mass and threw it at a dark Ninja.

Two more tentacles sprang from the shadows to replace the one, catching her arm and snagging her waist. A few more punches into the mass freed her again. The nether energies of the tentacles were cold and sapped her strength the longer she fought, but there was brute force, and then there was brute force...

"Stahlhund! Throw those explody ninjas into this dark crap."

Hopefully it wouldn't horribly backfire and kill them all.