Cruach is going for what amounts to an evening patrol. The act of climbing, running, and jumping through the more densely packed parts of Denver hasn't gotten old yet, and she hopes it never will. With the senses at her disposal, the city seems all the more real, all the more interesting.

Beyond simple fun, her excursion does have actual use. She's relatively familiar with the area as is, but keeping tabs on the current movements of gangs, heroes, and other people of interest makes her that much more prepared. She doesn't particularly expect anything interesting to happen, but it's the little details that matter just as much. A new tag here, a broken window there, a shouting match from an alley.

This is a rare moment, where she feels completely in the zone. Her movements are smooth and unimpeded, her senses are tuned, and she can simply be.

While Atlas has learned the basic rundown of the city, she hasn't been here nearly long enough to intimately understand the layout of the streets, or the shortcuts, or what types of groups like to congregate where. And so, Atlas is out and about- a woman in camo cargo pants, a white tank-top, and black sports bra- and what one might immediately recognize as a metal mask contorted into a demonic visage, but the way it melds into her head under closer scrutiny betrays powers at play.

She isn't exactly subtle as she stands on the edge of the roof, peering over into an alleyway where two people in hoodies are exchanging money. Drugs, maybe, Atlas didn't know, nor care. She was instead focusing on trying to determine how much she might be able to earn herself by dragging them to the police station and hoping there was a bounty to be had, there.

And if not, then she'd just waste precious time from her day. Decisions, decisions.

The other cape would no doubt spot the metal-faced woman on the rooftop, sticking out like a sore thumb, lost in contemplation.

Cruach does indeed spot the other cape, from a couple roofs over no less. Her approach is quick but stealthy, as she doesn't want to alert the people in the alley. A few well placed jumps and vaults, and she's standing on the roof behind the other cape, a good distance away. She takes as nonthreatening of a posture as she can manage, and the gently clears her throat.

Should atlas turn to face her, her first impression would likely be that the other cape is quite tall, the second would likely be something to do with her costume. Said costume looks to be professionally done, with overlapping pieces of light fabric that nevertheless fail to snag or get in the way of things, and a mask bearing a strong resemblance to the face of an owl. In keeping with the bird theme, she stands there stock still, the only motion a questioning tilt of the head. Said motion is smooth, and nearly entirely silent.

Atlas is pulled out of her contemplation. She spins on the heel of her boot, metal cascading across her skin, forming at the fingertips on both limbs and crawling all the way up the arm, ending at just below the elbow.

Metallic eyes scan over the other cape for one drawn-out second, then two, then three.

"And who the fuck are you supposed to be?" Her voice is rich with a heavy Greek accent.

She straightens her head, seemingly unphased by the display of power. "Cruach. I'm a mercenary. Saw you watching those guys in the alley down there." She gestures towards the alley. "Hadn't seen you before, figured I might as well say hi." She's speaking at a low volume, but her voice carries well. She seem to have some sort of accent, though it's faint and not readily identifiable.

Something under the hood of her costume moves. "Are you planning on handling them, by the way?" She pauses, and then tacks on: "They're doing a drug deal, as far as I can tell." Her tone indicates she nearly forgot to mention it, as though it was obvious.

Atlas flexes her fingers a few times. "I was considering it," she comments. "Couple of bozos in an alleyway. It's either easy money, or so low on everyone's priority that I don't get any money out of it, then that's just a waste of my time."

She walks a little closer, seemingly intent on looking down into the alley as well. Her posture remains unthreatening, and her movements remain smooth and even. "Looting rules mean these sorts of things are usually worth it from a purely money perspective, though I prefer not to go that route." She pauses, gauging the response to her approach. "If we don't interfere here directly, we can at least follow the dealer. I doubt he's a solo act, and the police appreciate that sort of thing anyway."

Atlas may note that even though the movements being made are larger, there's still little to no sound. Cruach pauses again. "You haven't introduced yourself. I'm interest to know who I'm sharing a roof with." Another, smaller birdlike tilt of the head accompanies the question.

Atlas glances back down the alleyway, seemingly ignoring the question entirely as she contemplates further.

"Atlas," she answers after a moment. She scratches the side of her neck absentmindedly. "That'd mean something somewhere else. But I have to start all over here to you Americans. Two years of reputation down the drain." She snorts, shaking her head a little.

"Nice to properly meet you, Atlas." It's apparent from the way she talks that she's memorizing the name for later.

She's closed most of the distance, and is now talking more quietly. She glances down into the alley briefly, nods quickly to herself, and then turns her attention back to Atlas.

"Reputation can be a blessing or a curse." It sounds like she has some experience with this sort of thing. She pauses and shakes her head, refocusing. "You get a fresh start here, and now you have two years more experience." She shrugs. "Why not make the most of it?"

"Yeah, yeah, sage wisdom and all that." She waves a metal hand dismissively. She keeps her focus on the people below. She doesn't outwardly admit to the fact that she's going to take Cruach's advise on following them to their dealer.

"What, you been at this sorta thing longer?"

"You pick up a thing or two." She pauses. "I wouldn't really consider myself a provider of sage advice though." She shrugs.

"Than two years? Yea." She doesn't elaborate, instead moving on to a question of her own. "Why'd you move, if you had the kind of reputation worth keeping?"

"None of your business, that's why," she dismisses curtly. "I had my reasons."

"I'm just looking to get rich. I'm sure you can relate... Or not. I don't know you."

"Fair enough." She shrugs again. She seems to be doing that quite a bit in this conversation.

"I won't say money's not a motivator, but it's not the only one." She looks down over the edge again. Her hood twitches in the same way it did earlier, made more apparent by her proximity. "Sounds like they're wrapping things up. Might want to limber up or something if you're goin to follow the dealer too. He's probably got a car around here."

Atlas grunts in response. "Yeah, yeah." The metal in her body recedes, and her body rapidly fades into murky water molded into a human shape. Her 'mask' disappears with the other metal, the contorted demonic visage giving way to a more mundane human face etched into the water.

"Way ahead of you, birdie," she says, voice coming out a little warbled. Her clothes drop through the water, hitting the floor- the liquid body doesn't have any details, akin to a barbie doll. "Don't touch my shit, or I'll drown you."

Cruach pauses for a second, then nods. "I wasn't planning on it." It's apparent from her tone that she's smiling, as though Atlas has told her a joke. "You sure it's a great idea to just leave that here? Might want to hide it or something."

Her posture shifts slightly, as though she's briefly addressing the alley, before returning to her original stance. "If you don't get tired like that, and you can go as fast as I think you can, you'll probably have better luck following him than me." She pauses. "Plus you found them first." She rocks back and forth on her feet a bit, the action just as quiet as her previous ones. "I'll tag along if you want, but if you want solo credit on it be my guest."

"Hasn't been a problem before. Though Americans are weirder than the British, so, we'll see."

She shakes her head. "I don't have anything that lets me outrun a car. But cars do have a lot of hidden empty space perfect for liquids. You can watch I guess, I don't care. Just don't get in my way."

She shrugs. "Just don't go trying to drown me if it's gone when you get back."

"Fair point, though not a trick I can pull, at least that easily. Rooftops are fast though, they let you move in straight lines. I should be able to follow. If you lose me, no skin off your back, if I can keep up, it'll be fun and I can provide a bit of backup." It sounds like she thinks this whole thing is relatively low stakes.

"I'll be sure not to, but if I have to pull you out of a hairy situation I get a cut of the profits."

"Not gonna happen, but sure, whatever." She scoops up her clothes in her arms, the fabric miraculously not getting wet as she balls them up. She marches over to an unused ventilation unit and haphazardly stuffs the clothes in there, turn turns right back around to the edge.

At this point the drug deal has concluded, and each of the participants are walking out of the alley in different directions. Cruach begins walking along the rooftop, casually following the one making his way deeper into the mess of buildings and alleys.

"Whatever you say." She cocks her head, and her hood shifts in a way that it shouldn't. "He's on edge. We probably shouldn't peek over any more, or make any more noise than we have to."

"So is that what you do?" She muses aloud, walking alongside the other mercenary. "Get reads on people or something like that. Or is your power thingy that weird thing going on with your hood."

"They're related, but it's more a functional use as opposed to the entire purpose." Her voice is significantly lower, to the point where it's still clearly audible, but only just barely. She's distinctly not whispering, just talking very quietly. "You could say I'm a Thinker of sorts, among other things." It's clear she's holding back quite a bit of information.

As they walk next to each other the lack of noise from her steps and general motion would become somewhat apparent,

"What about you, just metal and water, or other things?"

"Metal, water, wood, gasoline, fabric, toxic gas," she says. The last example is an explicit lie- best to trip up other people about your powers, she reckons. "Any material around me, I can become, more or less." She omits any drawbacks of her power.

Atlas reasons if Cruach could detect lying, she could call her out on it, and Atlas would learn a piece of her power she can plan around. If not, then Cruach is left in the dark. Atlas smirks- rather, the marks in the water shift to resemble a smirk. Close enough, it gets the point across.

Cruach doesn't seem to react to the lie, at least her posture and tone don't change, and she doesn't say anything about it. "Useful." She pauses. "Gasoline doesn't sound like a great idea." There's a bit of levity to her tone.

She gestures towards the alley to their side. "I think this guy is new. He shouldn't be this nervous after something as low level as a deal like that. Means he'll be sloppy, but also jumpy. You sure hiding in his car is a great idea?"

As they come to a gap in the buildings, she steps up onto the edge and springs over to the next roof almost casually. She's just as quiet, but from the way the material of the roof bends slightly, it doesn't seem to be a lightening effect.

"I'm not exactly going to be able to keep up to a car," she huffs in response. "Unfortunately I'm still normal human speed."

Atlas has to take more of a running leap to cross the gap, her body unraveling a couple inches to offer herself more distance to grab the ledge. She does, and the water coils back into one solid form, and she quickly hauls herself up onto the rooftop.

"Worst-case-scenario he figures something is up and I threaten to waterboard him with gasoline. It's historically worked like a charm so far."

Cruach nods, continuing to follow the route the guy is taking. "Sounds effective, but better to use as a last resort. Situations like that get hairy fast." She slows her pace a bit, head still following the presumed position of the dealer as she lets Atlas catch up. Once they're side by side, she resumes her rather brisk pace. If Atlas were looking behind them, she may notice what appear to a be a few decently sized moths flying away and down towards the alley.

"He's slowing down." She takes a quick look over the edge, pulls back, and nods to herself. "The car's close. Up and around the corner." She gestures to indicate which way. "Stupid of him to park so close, but it helps us. You should hurry, I can distract him, but if he's this jumpy already I don't want to give him any more reason to be suspicious."

"Won't be necessary." Atlas marches to the other edge of the rooftop, jumping up to the edge. She offers Cruach a salute, and her form falls apart, letting gravity do what gravity does best to a body of water, and the water splashes onto concrete.

The water pools together as a collective puddle on the ground, dragging itself across the side-walk towards the car Cruach had directed towards, hiding in the shadow beneath the vehicle. With discretion of the position, the water forms liquid tendrils to rise up to the undercarriage, squirming through small holes to disappear into the interior of the car itself.

Cruach returns the salute, following after at a more sedate pace once Atlas has dropped. She remains on the roof, positioned so as to not be easily visible from the alley below, and waits.

Shortly after Atlas takes up position inside the car, the dealer rounds the corner. He looks around nervously a couple of times, exhales briefly, and then goes about getting into the car and starting it up. His nervousness shows in his driving, in that he seems to be taking things quite slowly. Once he gets out of the alley he sticks to less busy streets, and goes either exactly the speed limit or slightly below.

Cruach follows from the rooftops, cutting across buildings and making leaps that no normal person could. She manages to keep out of sight relatively well, and despite falling behind a number of times, always seems to catch up when the car is stopped or has to slow down.

At this point it's well into the evening, the sun has disappeared over the horizon and the main source of illumination is street lights, which are sparse and no necessarily working in this part of the city. The dealer, having taken a long and winding route, eventually pulls up to a rather run down building. It looks like it may have been a warehouse or manufacturing facility at some point, but it definitely isn't any more. The dealer pulls around behind the building, out of view of the main road in the area, as small as that is, and then draws a clicker or remote of some kind from the glove box. He presses a specific series of buttons, and a garage-style door slides open, which he proceeds to pull the car into. A different series of buttons closes the door behind him. He lets out a sigh of relief, steps out of the car, flips the lights on, and begins the process of putting things away. It's apparent that he's not the only one who operates here, as there are a couple of other cars, and signs around the space of other people, though he's the only one in the immediate vicinity.

Water slowly drips out from the undercarriage of the vehicle, and slowly, surely, the puddle watches the dealer.

Halfway through him unpacking, the puddle inches up behind the dealer, and then all at once, like a snake striking, a loosely human shape springs out from the puddle, wrapping around the dealer, a hand covering his jaw, partially drowning him with each breath through his mouth. She does notably leave his nose uncovered, of course.

"Alright, shithead, here's how we're going to do this," she whispers into his ear. "Struggling is only going to make this harder for you so listen good, I'm only asking this once. Firstly, is your boss here? Just nod or shake your head, I'm not giving you a chance to scream."

He splutters and struggles for a second, before going totally still as Atlas begins talking. It's clear the realization that he's facing a cape has him terrified half to death. He takes a second to compose himself, trying to breathe through his mouth, failing, spluttering, and then taking a deep breath through his nose before he finally slowly shakes his head.

Outside, Cruach makes her way down the walls of the building. She pauses her descent near a vent, and a few more moths fly out of her costume and into it. In short order she's next to the same garage-style door the dealer pulled through. She withdraws a small case from a well concealed pocket, and gets to work picking the lock of the normal door next to it. The process is short and in under a minute she's opening the door to step into the building with the confidence of someone who knows exactly what's on the other side of the door they're stepping through. She walks up to where Atlas is restraining the dealer, positioning herself to remain outside of the dealers line of sight, and addresses the other cape in a calm tone.

"There's no one else in the building, unless they have a Stranger." She pauses to look things over again. "It's late, and this operation seems pretty small time. Still sloppy, but makes our work easier."

Sweeping the building leads to a decent amount of cash, as well as weaponry and illicit substances. A check of the paperwork reveals that this is a distribution point of a relatively small time gang, a new one, but with enough of a reputation that there's a small reward for intelligence or capture of members. Looting wouldn't take too long, and a tip to the police would net a decetn response. All in all, not a terribly large reward, but not a very large risk either.

[END]