Tarrasque ran - rather, hobbled - for a while before shifting into a large winged form and took to the skies, taking no chances in his escape. He rather preferred to not end up in prison, thank you very much. He growled to himself, extremely pissed off towards Calvin Ball. He would remember this for sure.

Thinking of the brave little hero-ling reminded him of the strange healing factor that he'd noticed she was in possession of, prompting him to channel it briefly during his flight. He winced briefly as his flesh started moving to put itself to rights, and grinned as it slowly began to do so. This could certainly come in handy.

That he would be able to recognize the face of said hero-ling in the future and perhaps plan some of his future endeavors such that she could come and fight him later on... well, that was merely a happy little bonus. Especially since he wasn't responsible for whether or not Calvin Ball decided to jump into any potential escapades he may or may not have in the works.

Tarrasque chuckled quietly to himself as he kept flying, carrying a ball of solid gold in strong talons. Yes, the future would not be boring... especially since last he'd heard, a certain entomologist he'd been keeping an eye on was due to receive some rather interesting specimens in the near future. Perhaps he'd finally pay a visit...

Jan looks around and ponders a bit before nodding. "Fair enough, I suppose. Though I'd appreciate a properly face-to-face meeting at some point when you're ready for it. Build a bit of trust, and all that. Just know that subtlety isn't a thing I use much unless I have to. I'm a much bigger fan of, uh... spontaneity, I think it's called? Doing stuff outta the blue and all that. Surprise people."

She grins as she strips off the body armor and jumpsuit to reveal her regular clothes, switching footwear and taking off her gloves before stowing her costume in her duffle bag. She gives one last grin towards the empty spot in her senses where Fable is. "Chaos is my jam. And chaos isn't often a thing for 'subtle'. But anyways... catch you around, Sneaky."

With that, she drops the walls of rock and goes to leave, before remembering something and turning back to him. "Uh.. don't suppose I could get your digits? Make it easier to talk, and all that shit?"

So focused is Tarrasque in his hit-and-run chase with Cylynx, and on the shifting of his vocal biological structure, that he doesn’t notice Calvin’s projectile until it’s far too late for him to dodge. Immediately the acid begins eating through his natural armor and skin, and it causes him to suck in a deep breath and let out a ragged scream.

Except… this is no ordinary scream.

You see, Tarrasque had been shapeshifting his larynx, voice box, and vocal cords using various animal species available to him, specifically ones meant for high frequencies, high volumes, or both. The plan had been to use it as a sort of makeshift sonic attack. He’d also altered his lungs so he would be able to take in a deep breath and let it out over a very long period of time for maximum effect.

And now, Calvin Ball has caused him to reflexively make a loud noise, as loud as he physically can, as a reaction to pain.

Thus, when Tarrasque screams, it does not come out as a mere scream. No, it is an ear-piercing, gut-wrenching SHRIEK of agony and rage that just barely hits with a physical force before worming its way into one’s ears to savage their hearing. The various frequencies make sure every living thing in earshot can hear it, and the volume is so loud - loud enough that the reinforced glass of the tanks of water are shattering one by one - it is safe to assume that the entire zoo can hear this racket, the deep breath taken ensuring it goes on for a good long while.

Once Tarrasque finally stops screaming, vaguely remembering to shift his biological structure to compensate with a higher healing factor and toxic defense (good thing he swiped that axolotl scale while he had the chance way back when!) as he recovers, he staggers to his feet and returns to a humanoid form long enough to snarl at the heroes and then jerkingly hobble-run to the ball of gold he got hit with earlier and then start making a break for it.

Every good fighter knows when to cut their losses. And the time for Tarrasque to do so has been made quite clear.

The villain does his utmost to stay out of Cylynx’s reach, continuing to launch venomous spines at the hero in hopes to gradually wear her down. All that really matters for him right now is avoiding getting hit.

Eventually, though, an idea comes to mind, but it’s going to take some time to cobble together. He maintains his mobility and avoidance of Cylynx, while his biology shifts his larynx to include biology related to several of his archive’s selections, all of them known for being able to either reach high pitches or volumes, or for having a lot of vocal modulation range.

Because of his focus on the shapeshifting he’s secretly doing and on not getting caught by Cylynx… he isn’t paying attention to someone he thought was already out of the fight.

The Changer manages to hold out against Cylynx’s enhanced strength for all of a second before the tentacles end up ripping off of him, causing him to roar in pain. Serves him right for not reinforcing them at all.

He withdraws the torn stumps of the tentacles, growling in frustration as he weighs his options. Brawling against her won’t work, trying to grapple her didn’t work.. guess he’ll have to improvise. Thankfully, he sees another tank of water with nothing else in it, and an idea comes to him. He rushes over to it and sprouts a pair of arms from his back, after which he turns around so they can grab the tank. A single tentacle once more grows from his back, running into the tank and converting itself into a sort of pump, and his mouth again channels archerfish biology. If nothing else, this will help him keep away.

But just for good measure, he grows a whiplike lizard tail, covering the end of it in thick, extra-reinforced lion fish spines.

As a final touch, he sprouts a pair of avian wings from his back as his form slims out a bit, switching from bipedal to quadrupedal while his body shifts its musculature from powerful and mighty to agile and flexible, the ever-present leonine head snarling at Cylynx. “I can satisfy that curiosity of yours, alright.. but I wonder if satisfaction will bring you back?”

With that, the villain spits a pressurized blast of water at Cylynx before darting around, flinging a cluster of venomous spines at the hero as he switches from head-on fighting to hit-and-run tactics.

The noise causes Tarrasque to glance over, immediately recognizing the armor-clad heroine for who she is. His snarl twists into a dark grin as he starts to chuckle menacingly.

“Fair enough on the gift shop part… but then again, I’m not quite done with the tour.” He slackens the grip of his tentacles just enough that Calvin Ball can retain consciousness and breathe, but keeps her firmly restrained. “I was hoping to get a peek at a couple more exhibits, after all. Especially the hippopotamus enclosure. Those jaws are to die for.”

Out of everyone’s field of view, he morphs a few finger-sized spider limbs, two of which work together to make a pair of keratin blades to act as makeshift scissors. They covertly snip a few hairs off of Calvin Ball’s head, before starting to pass them down towards his body in a train of limbs, each disappearing into his mass after they’ve finished passing it on. This quietly continues while Tarrasque keeps talking, until the hair is safely tucked away in a sealed container in his belt.

“Honestly, I didn’t entirely plan on fighting anyone today. I was just here to pay a visit to some interesting animals, take some notes and all that. Not my fault a brat decided to stick her nose where she shouldn’t have. And besides… in case you didn’t notice, kitty cat, I’m the one with the hostage. Ever wonder if a big enough octopus can tear apart a human being?”

The six tentacles briefly pull Calvin’s limbs taut a single time, the implied threat very clear. After all, Tarrasque's angry enough at her that he’s only partially bluffing. He doesn’t like wanton murder, but if he has to kill to get what he wants… well, you can’t make an omelette without breaking eggs.

Tarrasque grins sinisterly as he stares down the Tinker, thickening his carapace and preparing for the impending brawl. It’s been a while since he’s had a good fight, and he’s sure looking forward to see how his shapeshifting holds up against a Tinker’s tech.

Just about then is when Cal pulls her flashbang stunt, blinding the Changer as he howls in pain at his eyes being rendered useless. He instantly drops the tricky little scamp and throws himself to the right in order to avoid getting hit, snarling as he puts away the tentacles for now and draws on his recently acquired blind cave fish biology so he can navigate despite being blind.

“Dancing, huh? Maybe, maybe not. You’ll have to lead - you know what they say about having two left feet!” He guffaws as his hide of chitin and keratin once more is covered in wicked barbed spikes, though he also starts adding in dozens upon dozens of lion fish spines.

He can hit things without having to aim. After all, there is such a thing as accuracy by volume.

“New rule, heroes! EVERYTHING BREAKS!!”

And with that, the spines go flying off of Tarrasque in all directions at high speeds, each coated in the pain-inducing venom of the lion fish.

Tarrasque has not been expecting the projectile, just able to dodge enough that it hit his shoulder rather than his head, eliciting a tremendous shriek of agony from him as it is dislocated by what feels like solid metal.

He manages to recover a little bit before Calvin does, observing the injury with a grimace. The carapace is cracked, and the joint itself has jumped the socket, thought that is fixed easily as he braces against a nearby pillar and levers it back into place with a shout of pain and exertion. After that, he observes the offending projectile that caused such pain - a softball-sized sphere of pure, dense gold.

On the one hand, it’s a thing that might certainly net him a pretty penny. On the other hand…

He swivels his attention to his opponent, eyes shifting from canine to serpentine as they narrow to slits menacingly. Especially as he notices that despite what she’s been put through so far, she doesn’t look too worse for wear.

That means a Brute factor of some kind. Which means the kid gloves are coming off.

He stomps over to her, shoving an empty fish tank aside in his approach before his two tentacles grab her and start coiling around her, another four tentacles emerging from his back to do just the same. They wrap around her in a vice grip that slowly begins to clamp down with gradually increasing pressure as they bring her face up to his.

He snarls at her with a leonine growl. “No more playing around. Game over, little bitch.”

When Calvin Ball finally makes it to where Tarrasque is, she can see him dragging his arm through the silt and sand in the bottom of one of the fish tanks, the one with the lionfish in it. While she was getting up, he’d already done the same to to other tanks of fish - the archerfish tank, and the tank with blind cave fish. As Cal is watching, he pulls his arm out of the tank with a handful of silt and whatnot, a faint glimmer of light revealing that he’s ended up getting some of the shed scales as well. He carefully pours it into one of his preservation containers and then slips it into his belt just as she yells at him. He turns to her and watches, grinning after her threat.

“Heh. Bold of you to assume that you can do it. Doesn’t matter much, anyways. I’ll just grow them all back in a matter of days.”

He turns his body to face her, looking around at the tanks of fish. One of his tentacles reaches down into the lionfish tank and brushes against the sole fish occupying the tank, spooking it in the process, before retracting back out.

“I remember interacting with animals a lot in my childhood. Stray cats and dogs, fish and frogs in the stream, all sorts of bugs and whatnot… people thought I was some kind of weirdo for it. But even then, I could tell what everyone else took for granted. That animals had innate advantages that we never would.”

He holds his arm out in front of him… and right before Cal’s eyes, familiar scales and spines start sprouting into being on his forearm. He grins at her, his body working in the background to work in archerfish traits and shifting his biology around to sprout a third tentacle, this one fashioned to act like a pump. He shifts it over to a tank of fresh water, the liquid empty.

“Except now? I can have all of them that I want.”

And with that, he suddenly spits a blast of water at her from his mouth, with all the strength of a fire hose.

The extra weight of Calvin throws him off just a bit, swerving slightly as he lifts off the ground properly. The moment she starts to mess with his wing joint, he lets out a roar of pain as he begins to lose control of his flight path, flailing around almost uncontrollably as the girl messes with his wing.

Finally, after a few seconds of this, Tarrasque snarls and reaches his uninjured tentacle down to coil around her before throwing her through the most convenient target that will result in minimal grievous harm - the glass window on the wall looking into the entryway of the aquarium section. He makes sure to use enough force that she’s definitely going to go through with a bit of force, but she at least won’t get any broken bones.

Once that’s done, he flies in after her and then ignores her in favor of heading deeper into the building, peering into the various exhibits in search of ideal species to go for.

As the first three orbs come flying at him, Tarrasque dodges two of them and moves to swat the third of them away with one of his tentacles, causing it to rupture in molten rock and scorch the amphibious limb, eliciting a roar of pain from the goliath as he observes the damage, before turning to snarl at Calvin Ball. This gives him just enough time to notice her rebuttal and the other two larger spheres, which he ducks away from.

Internally, his mind is working in overdrive. First, that quick-dry cement stuff; then the molten rock. Does she control it? Is there any limit to what she can do? He’s not keen on finding out, but there doesn’t seem to be a visible choice that he can have in the matter. All he can do is try to work around her as he goes for his objectives.

He pulls on his power’s archives once more, shifting his form until a pair of eagle wings emerge from his upper back. The massive wings beat once, twice, as he starts lifting up into the air with a cackle.

“Catch me if you can, hero!” He yells, before lifting off and making a veritable beeline for the aquarium.

As he bulldozed onwards with the intent to rush past her, the red ball hit him in the side and popped, the viscous contents of it practically dousing his torso before hardening over his natural body armor. The impact of the ball hitting him ended up sending him staggering for a moment, before the beastly Changer was clear of the doorway and out in the open.

He was spotted almost instantly, starting a domino effect of screams and shrieks. This only got worse as Tarrasque relished in the fear he was causing and let out a monstrous ROAR, which caused everyone to rush away from him in an attempt to get clear of him. He couldn’t help but laugh as he felt the adrenaline rushing through his body, blood pumping hard enough he could hear it in his ears. He gave a catcall for the kid who had plastered him in this slimy stuff.

“What’s the matter, hero?” He gave the last word a mocking emphasis on it. “Gonna leave all these people defenseless and scared? I thought you goody two-shoes types were supposed to keep them safe from freaks like me!”

His mind conjured up all sorts of ideas for what he could do to make himself scarier, stronger, but he held back for now. Some things, he needed to keep close to the chest. Just because he could do it, didn’t mean he should.

After taking a quick moment to finally grab two more animal samples - from the Thorny Devil lizard and the Loggerhead sea turtle - Tarrasque starts to leave, planning on heading for the aquarium next to swipe a couple of critters from there. All he needs is a quick sample, and besides, it’s not like he’s going to kill any of them. Maybe some scales or part of a fin, that’s all.

But as he’s starting to leave, he hears someone call in from the exit doorway he entered through. Damn. Guess his time’s up. Then again, maybe if he’s quick, he can get them to keep mum…

Tarrasque waits for a brief moment, turning some of his focus to the shifting of his body. His power subsumes his mask as his head becomes a hideous and terrifying fusion of lion and man, while fusing crustacean chitin and his newly-acquired turtle shell keratin to create plates of natural armor across his body. He decides to add in an extra touch by channeling the Thorny Devil’s DNA as well, wicked spikes extruding from the keratin-chitin plates as he finally stalks out into view.

He gives a nasty glare as he notices a costume-wearing kid. Really? Some kid thought they could take him on? Granted, they probably didn’t know it was him at the time, but even so. He twists his vocal chords enough to let out a beastly growl, his lion-man face snarling.

“Just fine, whelp. Now piss off… before I decide to teach you a lesson. I don’t usually care for picking on kids, but I can make an exception if you’re that desperate for a spanking.”

Seeing a chance, Tarrasque's eagle-snake form dives down towards the zoo before slowing down and landing on the roof of the reptile house. He shifts back to his human form, his self-made costume already covering him back before he flew over here. He quickly checks around before dropping down to the ground by a door clearly marked "Staff Only", which he forces open using brute force before disappearing inside. Though he was going for speed rather than subtlety. While nobody else seems to have noticed... that doesn't mean that he went unseen.

Once within, Tarrasque moves with purpose, having managed to get some info from an employee that worked here. Alcohol has a way of loosening tongues, after all. Thus, Tarrasque knows exactly where to go to find where the remains of shed reptile skins are. He gets samples from the Komodo dragon and the green python, putting them into sealed preservation containers and adding them to his bandolier, grinning behind his mask.

The only downside is that to get anywhere else, he has to go through the open space of the zoo, packed with civilians, while in full costume. Meaning that he's only got so long to grab what he's here for, once he shows himself.

It's a bright, sunny day at the Denver Zoo, where the zoo is hosting a mass field trip today. Students of all ages are packed into groups like sardines in tins, walking through the zoo and looking at the exhibits. Everything is idyllic and happy, as if nothing could go wrong.

If only they knew.

Watching up from far above, is what seems, at first glance, to merely be a bird. An eagle, as a matter of fact. Not necessarily out of the ordinary. What nobody can see from so far below, however, is that patches of feathers on the eagle's body are instead replaced with reptilian scales, the patchwork creature taking in every detail of the zoo's layout like a deep breath.

Tarrasque has always both hated and delighted in this aspect of his powers, his inability to be 100% of any single creature. He remembers trying to morph wholly into a dog oh so long ago, his power forcing his head to stay unchanged. That was a shock. He hated it for that reason, that he could never be just one thing except himself. But he delighted in it, because it let him get creative sometimes. After all, if he couldn't fully be one animal, he could just be a slight hybrid of two. Hence his scouting out of the zoo like this.

He could only wonder how things would go, as he scouted his target from up above.

He hears the cries of pain coming from Calvin and mentally cheers, finally glad that the brat is getting some comeuppance. He does not have very long to celebrate this, however, as Cylynx comes barreling at him with a pair of punches that all but knock the wind out of him, bits of chitin splintering as his natural armor cracks at the sites of the punches.

He staggers back, trying to thicken up his shell at those key points as his mind goes into overdrive figuring out how he’s going to fight back against something this strong. He’s only got so many animals in his archive right now - it’s not been easy acquiring what he’s built up to by this point, and he hasn’t been able to get his hands on some of the more exotic species he’s been after. What he has will have to do, for the time being.

Thankfully, what he has includes his experience as an underground fighter. By that same token, however, he is well aware of what kind of sleeping dragon he’s just woken up. He knows the feel of someone trying to gauge an opponent. So this is what that’s like on the receiving end. He probably won’t be able to take a punch stronger than those two.

So if he can’t tank the blows, he’ll have to avoid getting hit in a way that matters.

Once more, he sprouts octopus tentacles, a whole eight of them sprouting from his shoulders and back, foregoing the chitin plating from last time in favor of barbed spike hooks, and sends them to try and grapple the Tinker. As this happens, he starts trying to move away from her, taking stock of his surroundings for an escape attempt.

He sees the phone for a fraction of a second, taking note of it as his morphed teeth twist into a wicked facsimile of a grin. Looks like there’s gonna be some bigger fish on their way in due time. Sure would be a shame to turn down a chance for a warm-up before the real deal makes it here.

He gives a dark chuckle, noting the reference. “Watterson’s work, eh? Used to read it when I was your age. You’re annoying enough without having a stuffed tiger. But nah… I don’t mind learning as we go. The main course will get here, eventually… I wouldn’t mind an appetizer to keep me busy.”

With that, he flat-out rushes the girl, tentacles lashing out to try and grab her and toss her to the wayside during his exit from the building he’s in. He can handle a wannabe hero and grab the other things he’s here for.. he just has to be quick about it and think on his feet. After all, the only consistent rule in the kid’s namesake game is that the players make the rules.

The beastly Changer sneers at the girl and her haphazard costume and lackadaisical attitude. He takes the time to shift his body some more - packing on some bear and more lion to enhance his musculature and bones, and choosing to add on a new touch he’s never tried before - a pair of sucker-covered octopus tentacles, each one sprouting from the back of each of his shoulders. They, too, are armored with chitin and keratin, thickening to be more like flailing clubs. For extra intimidation factor, he shifts his eyes to those of a wolf, and grows some extra spikes and chitin to help armor up his face into a horrific visage as he towers over the kid.

He notes the red ball, as well as the kid’s confident grin. It looks like a huge zit to him, but he’s not one to judge about the appearance of powers. Not after the brat’s spiel about his current look.

“You think I care about being subtle? Fat chance, when I can be a monster whenever I want to. So what do I care if some lily-livers can’t handle the sight of me? They’d shit their pants anyways if they say someone like Iron Maiden show up. And besides…” He gives a dark chuckle as he takes a step, the tentacles extending to help add to the looming over her. “Where’s the fun in just taking what I want without a fight? Though I’d prefer to fight someone a bit older than you, little rabbit. What are you, twelve?”

He’s purposely undershooting, mostly to try and provoke a reaction. But in the end, he’s just taking the time he can to try and ramp himself up a bit more without the chance for a distraction. He knows he can probably shove her aside and book it for the aquarium, and once he’s there… he just needs to get a bit from the critters there. He read on the website that they’ve got lionfish and archerfish here…

This time, Doc is too preoccupied to notice the incoming attack before the sword collides with his torso, sending the Ward flying into the alleyway wall as he cries out in pain. He slumps down to the ground with a pained groan, clearly not able to keep fighting.

While definitely removed from the fight, however, Doc is still conscious and able to start assessing his own condition. He manages to identify a dislocated arm and a few cracked ribs, but thankfully that’s all. He’s lucky he got off so lightly - the chances of getting a concussion were not so unlikely. At the very least, he manages to get his comms on and radio for help.

“Console, this is Doc Pulsar. Me and Cavalier encountered Iron Maiden, we need backup as soon as you can get it to us!”

She scoffs at his mention of her knowing about him already. “Doesn’t take a genius to know you’re not some kind of monster that hides under the bed or in the closet. Especially not mine, seeing as I’d probably have made friends with it. Heh. Not to mention the occasional PHO post about some weirdo going around that couldn’t possibly be there.”

“As for a crew,” she continues, “Yeah, we’ll need more people to fill it out, set up places for it. We’ll need mooks, we’ll need resources, and we’ll need territory, too. Gotta start somewhere, right? But if you happen to be interested, I’ll give you a bit of incentive. Besides, not like you’re able to hide from me and my powers - you go blabbing, and I’ll track you down and kick your ass.”

Without prompting, she suddenly brings her hands up and takes her mask off, showing black hair and her smirk. “The name’s Jan. So who would you be, Fable?”

At first, she visibly falters at the way her power is dissected, but she soldiers on and stands her ground. The response to her question about who Sneaky is, though, actually gets her to blink for a moment at the audacity of this person. She’s quiet just long enough for Sneaky to introduce themself - Fable - before she breaks out into boisterous laughter, throwing her head back as she laughs manically.

After a solid ten seconds of laughing, she calms down a bit, tilting her head in an amused manner before speaking up with honest-to-God fondness. “I have NEVER met anyone who had balls big enough to try lying to me so blatantly, pal. I like you. It’s a breath of fresh air, y’know?” She idly plucks a couple golf ball-sized chunks of rock from the ground and makes them orbit her hand.

“Most people are just all serious and shit around me, telling me to stop doing what I’m doing or trying to get me to work for them. Which, by the way, both don’t work. I’m me, I do what I want, and fuck anybody else who tells me otherwise. Y’know what I’m saying?”

The patch of ground she’s standing on floats up out of the ground, looking like a floating upside-down mountain, which she’s its down on as she keeps looking at Fable. “I’m Badger. You’ve probably heard of me, what with my spree across Nebraska. And I’m lookin’ to pull together a crew.”

She’s a bit taken aback by the weird whistling noise, but when the literally indescribable voice pops up, she knows she’s in the right spot. She might not know where exactly this person is, but she can guaran-fucking-tee that Sneaky isn’t going anywhere.

In a casual display of her power, she raises one of her hands and clenches it into a fist as a superfluous movement, needlessly telegraphing a few very thick slabs of concrete and asphalt raising out of the ground eight feet tall at the openings of the alley, blocking her and the seemingly nonexistent person into the narrow space.

“Barely a Thinker at all, Sneaky,” Badger snarks, folding her arms across her chest. “Cool trick you got there, even if it doesn’t seem to quite work on me. Th’fuck’s your name?”

Because let it never be said that Badger didn’t seize opportunities when they showed up in front of her. She’d been planning on putting together a crew, a gang, a little group of louts and hooligans to go around the city causing mayhem every now and again in between having fun. She’d been doing that back in Nebraska, why not do it here? And a guy who could basically become unseeable, unknowable, that only she could know about? That was one helluva chance to hit paydirt.

Hyde’s arm is grabbed and yanked down, eliciting a crunch that is clearly more chitin than bone, though the villain grunts in pain as a response. Unable to move due to grappling Rocksy and having been grabbed, he cannot avoid being taken along for the ride and not-quite-suplexed into the ground.

It is about this point that Hyde decides to stop fucking around, and ceases being human-shaped.

He gradually but not-slowly shifts from an upright biped into a sprawling, flailing mess of octopus arms with suckers and plated with crab chitin, a rather heavily-armored lump of chitin at the epicenter of said arms and hiding all but a single, furious eye from view, revealing that the naturally-armored lump is most likely Hyde’s head. The full dozen sucker-and-chitin-covered arms flail about like clubbed whips, aiming to grapple the rocky Brute.

Hearing that, Doc gets an idea. It is incredibly risky, and unlikely to work.. but dangit, he needs to try. He cranks his glove to the max weight cap, and reaches out to Iron Maiden - not her, and not her sword. Specifically, the armor around her. Once he has as firm a grip as he can manage with his electromagnetic field, he yanks upwards with all his proverbial and literal might, praying that he can get her at least far enough off he ground that Cavalier’s blasts will actually do something.

Jan is walking around, taking in the sights of Denver. It’s a far cry from the towns and cities she’s been in so far, that’s for sure. And the large amount of people in the area walking on concrete and asphalt gives her a lot to work with in what she’s long since named her ‘tremorsense’. She knows it doesn’t work like that very much, but she may as well call it that. Might help throw people off.

She drops into a nice-looking shawarma shop to get a bite to eat, and it isn’t long before she’s walking around the streets again, munching on her meal. Until all of a sudden, she stops, taken aback by what she felt.

Someone just… walking around, their dimensions wildly shifting at a frantic pace. Before they blink out of existence. And the weirdest part is, she can feel that absence keenly in that sixth sense of hers. An absence of pressure where there would at least be air and gravity pressing down. But no, a person-shaped nothingness moves around, a gap in her senses.

She has to know what this is.

She drops her duffel bag and starts rifling through it, putting on body armor and her standard jumpsuit over her clothing in record time, finishing it off with her signature mask made in the visage of her namesake. Throw in switching out her shoes for rugged boots and slipping on mechanic’s gloves, and suddenly, she isn’t Jan anymore. She’s Badger, and she’s ready to fuck shit up if she’s gotta.

Identities changed, she grabs the duffel bag and zips it back up, before hoofing it towards the blank spot in her senses.

The wood splinters against the chitin-scale armor he’s covered in, the impact barely felt due to the material’s fragility compared to him, and he manages to put some more muscle on to warrant being half a foot taller. But a lumbering brute made of stone gives even the strongest of creatures pause. Which means he needs to change tactics.

Hyde backs away in order to keep away from Rocksy a bit, giving him some time to turn some attention to his right arm, shifting it into a pincer. Thick, bulky, and armored to hell and back, like a lobster; barbed and spiked on the inside to help his grip, like a scorpion. Once it’s finished forming, he lashes out with it in an attempt to clamp it down on Rocksy’s left shoulder in a literal vice grip. And in the event he succeeds that grapple, he then lets loose with a wild haymaker straight into the Brute’s face.

He lets out a yell of pain as he’s sent tumbling to the ground by the sword blow, cradling his leg. He could have sworn he heard something crack, but he’s pretty sure nothing’s outright broken. He elects to keep backing up, though, getting behind a dumpster before bringing out his pistol and once more firing electric projectiles. If nothing else, the taser-adjacent voltage should do something against metal. Especially since he begins talking loud enough for Cavalier to hear him.

“Someone didn’t pay attention in science class! A majority of metals can conduct electricity!”

Doc jolts in alarm as Iron Maiden starts to go for him, causing him to panic a bit as he moves his arm to send the blade moving towards the ground this time, rapidly backpedaling as he starts firing his Freyr pistol, electrical projectiles racing towards the villain.

He lets himself be slammed, the impact barely felt by him as the scales and chitin absorb most of the force and the rest is negligible due to his altered musculature. The mallet tipped with shards of glass is a more pressing concern, but not by much. He reaches out an arm and catches the mallet-arm with barely noticeable strain, grin growing even more feral as he gives a rumbling chuckle.

“Not bad,” he comments, getting back up while keeping the mallet from hitting him, looming over her form by at least an entire foot. “But then again, not good enough.” And with that, he uses his free hand to throw a punch into her center mass with all the bodily strength of a bear compressed into a large humanoid, aiming to send her at least crashing against the wall.

All the bar patrons have since started running and are mostly all out, the bartender long gone.

As his collar is grabbed, Hyde just continues to look at her, his grin growing feral as he starts morphing his biology in preparation for a fight. He cherry-picks a few different traits - musculature and partial skeletal structure from bears, to get that strength and bite force; a mix of scales and exoskeleton from reptiles and lobsters respectively, for extra reinforcement; and finally, morphing his teeth into that of a lion.

By the time he finally deigns to respond to Rocksy, a coat of dark gray scaly armor has begun to cover his body as it bulks up a bit, his teeth now a set of wicked leonine fangs made to rip and tear. “Why don’t you try and make me, rabbit. Or maybe mud pebble is more accurate.”

He does what he can for the injured person and then sends them on their way, along with their buddies. It’s perfectly clear that they get a pass this time, if only because they currently aren’t committing a crime and have been attacked by a villain. In any case, the gangsters make themselves scarce.

With that done, Doc then draws his Freyr stun pistol and readies his Mag Glove, and turns to get ready to join the fray. He takes a look at Iron Maiden’s sword, judging it to be within the Glove’s 25 lbs limit, and is about to yank it away before he hears her words.

Honestly, that’s something he can somewhat relate to - committing fully to the identity as a parahuman, as a comic book character all but come to life. It’s part of why he joined the Protectorate: to be a hero like that, who could inspire hope just by being there. He grins and, deciding to take her advice, uses his Mag Glove to send the villain’s sword to the side with a jerk of his hand, intending to embed the sword in the wall. Thankfully, the NERV visor shows that there’s nobody else but them nearby.

Should Iron Maiden face him, Doc Pulsar is standing in a pose that wouldn’t be out of place on an old comic book cover, his smile all but a cherry on top. “You have a point, but to be fair.. it was a little corny. Sure your sense of humor hasn’t gotten ‘rusty’?”

Hyde can’t help but let out a bark of laughter at her response. Honestly, he can’t help himself at this point. This no-name who he’s never heard of, claiming to be part of a group? This is blatant desperation he sees, obvious like a gaping wound, and he’s going to see how far he can stick his metaphorical fingers into it before he gets a reaction.

He turns on his stool to face stone-covered lady, leering at her. “I won’t refute that I’m by no means mentally sound. But if you feel the need to try and hide your weakness with bluster and boasting and not a shred of proof, then you’re nothing but a scared little animal trying its damndest to not get eaten by the actual predators.” He adjusts his positioning on his stool, a shit-eating grin spreading across his face.

“Me? I might just be starting out, sharpening my claws and all that, but at least I’ve done shit that people acknowledge. Like that hit on a museum transport I did not too long ago. You? I’ve not got a single clue as to who you’re supposed to be. And you still haven’t told me your name, so that’s not helpful.”

He keeps facing her, taking another swig from his bottle of whiskey. Silently daring her to try and start shit.

He turns to look at the talking rock with a disinterested glare, scoffing in return. “Me, a D-Lister? At least I’ve gone out and done shit. Who the hell’re you, anyway? Never heard of you, newbie.”

He takes another sip of his liquor and proceeds to pretend that the newcomer isn’t there - she might look pretty strong, but if she feels the need to back it up with bluster, then it’s probably an act.

It’s a dismal day as it is, raining like the world’s crying tears of boredom, and Hyde can’t bring himself to disagree, sitting here in a dead-end bar nursing a pint of liquor. He’s gotten the day off - not much to be done loading a truck if the rain will ruin the cargo while it’s being loaded - and so he’s got a whole day to himself. Which is why he’s here, in costume, having himself some liquid courage while he thinks about what to do.

He’s been considering a hit on a bank, just for a classic job, but that’d be too finicky. The vault would take ages to get into even if he chose to muscle it open with his powers, and most of the shit in there is stuff he wouldn’t be able to get any profit off of. There’s been no armored cars going by for a while now, probably wary of him after that hit he did on a museum transport. At this point, he’d take just about anything to stave off the boredom.

As Iron Maiden rushes towards them, Doc goes out of his way to avoid the Brute as he makes a beeline for the gangster on the ground as he pulls out his medikit. He gets down on his knees and immediately begins assessing the state of the man while fishing around for what he needs.

“I’m trained in first aid, I might need help from you guys though to make sure he’s alright. Once I’ve got him cleared, you all need to get out of here as soon as possible. Got it?”

He also keeps half an eye on Iron Maiden and Cavalier, waiting for an opportunity to lend some support from the sidelines.

The Tinker winces at the sound of the man screaming, but manages to resist the urge to run to him and help. Trained in first aid he might be, but he’s pretty sure that the villain wouldn’t appreciate him trying to help someone she’s just beaten down. He keeps his voice quiet and pitches it so that Cavalier can hear him, but Iron Maiden can’t.

“If it turns into a fight, I might be able to do something to her, but I’m more concerned about the guy she beat up. I know they’re probably gangsters, but I can’t just sit by and do nothing.”

Doc is taken aback by the intimidating figure facing off against gangsters, and immediately draws out his Freyr pistol as a precaution while his other hand primes the Mag Glove. He was vaguely aware of who this was - Iron Maiden, something to do with metal as her power. Thankfully, he’s pretty well equipped for someone like that. Maybe he can try and yank the sword away from her if it comes down to it?

Nevertheless, he keeps himself ready for conflict and defers to Cavalier, waiting to see how this will go. He’d rather that a fight didn’t break out if it can be helped, but if there’s no other option…

Another day, another patrol. Thus far, things seemed to be going smoothly: they’d come across a few fans and signed some autographs, there’d been a cat stuck in a tree that Cavalier had helped with, and Doc himself had even bought some food from a hot dog cart!

In any case, things looked to be going well today. Much better than the last patrol the two had been going on. And their conversation was evidence that the two were warming up to each other.

“-but seriously, I think that someone should do a reboot or sequel! It was already pretty good back in the day without the involvement of capes, just think of how it’d be if they ported powers into it! They’d get two to four seasons, easy.”

He winces briefly at the butchered Greek name, but looks deep in thought after her mention of a possible horror aesthetic. “Might be able to? You’d have to try and sell it convincingly to Imaging. Could also play up the ragdoll sort of vibe? Hell, Ragdoll or Seam would also work as a name, especially with that aesthetic…”

He devolves a bit into mumbling to himself, seemingly lost in thought and forgetting that Cass is there.

Doc blinks at the power description, thinking for a bit. “It’s a fairly useful power. Brute rating at minimum.. only other close-range fighter is Powerplay, and she doesn’t exactly count since she can fly.” He gets up and starts pacing in front of the couch, his handheld forgotten for the time being.

“Simple names.. could go for Spool? For how your rope exits your body, like thread unspooling. Could also go for Stitch, or Twine. Simple names that don’t exactly give much info. Though if you want something a bit more, well, exotic.. oh, Ariadne, maybe! Like the Greek myth about the Labyrinth! Could also mislead people, since Ariadne was more about keeping Theseus from getting lost.”

After he’s finished rambling, he notices how he’s been pacing and stops, rubbing his arm in embarrassment. “I, uh.. I really like Greek mythology.”

The tinker chuckles a little at her remark about him liking comics. “Heh, those ‘ancient little comics’ have influenced society and media alike since they showed up, believe it or not. We still look at people like Superman as the gold standard for what the best hero would be. I figured.. what with giant kaiju and all these villains being around.. I’d like to think I can bring back some hope that there’s heroes like that. Just gotta find ‘em.”

He spends a bit smiling to himself. “And, well, I’m a nerd. Pretty sure someone would revoke my geek license or something if I hadn’t read any comics.” He laughs a bit before something occurs to him.

“Actually.. hey, what’s you power, anyways? Maybe I can help figure something out. Me, I’m just an electricity tinker, not much going on that front.”

He frowns a bit and puts a hand to his chin, humming as he thinks.

“Maybe not her specifically, but.. well, they’d come in handy for a lot of people. Not sure if I’d be able to figure something out for fire prevention, but I suppose it’s worth a shot to look into stuff like that.. maybe a way to hyper-reverse electrolysis..?”

From there, he devolves into quiet muttering to himself which is incomprehensible tinker technobabble.

He sulks a bit, but shakes it off. “I know, I know.. it just.. it rubs me the wrong way. You know? Heroes are supposed to be able to stop the villains. But at the same time.. putting innocents in danger isn’t heroic, either.”

He gives a small smirk after a bit. “I got some ideas, though. If I could rig some mag-lock restraints, maybe find some way to make them extremely tough.. those could work for cuffs that even Brutes would be hard-pressed to get out of.”

Doc isn’t exactly happy about the fact that they’re letting a villain - and a gang leader, from the looks of it - get away from them. But then again, he can understand why. Heroes wouldn’t exactly be looked upon kindly if they actively threatened the well-being of civilians.

Reluctantly, he takes his hand away from his holstered stun pistol and stops having the Mag Glove readied. His mouth curls into a scowl though, as he musters up whatever courage he has to give what is, to him, a heroic statement. “Next time, you won’t be able to just get away with stuff like this.”

And he means it, too. Already, his mind is whirring with ideas for extra-durable magnetic restraints, capable of locking onto a target and snapping shut on them. Next time he crosses paths with someone like Dominion with those things, they’re not getting away.

Doc gives a shrug. “I mean, it’s not like I’m asking to make a BFG or something like that, right? I figure something harmless like a universal gaming console would make it through approval. As for the handheld, I made it with stuff out of my own pocket, so they can’t really take it away from me.”

He sits there for a moment, before something occurs to him. “Hey, actually.. did you have any ideas on a name and costume? I-I don’t really know what your power is. Me, I’m just a Tinker who works with electricity, so I went with something kind of outta golden age comics. Scientist angle, y’know?”

Doc realizes that the NERV had picked up on the nervous systems of half a dozen people, one of which was a lot bigger than the others in proportions. And sure enough, as they round the corner, right there is none other than Dominion. Doc is nearly able to suppress his jolt of fear at the large woman before him - he’s fairly certain she could snap him in half like a twig.

As Cavalier speaks with her, the Ward prepares for the worst, bringing one hand near his stun pistol in order to draw it if it came to it, and the other - wearing his Mag Glove - readied as a more subtle means of combat.

If at any point the molotov gets thrown, Doc will use his Mag Glove to grab it with magnetic TK and reel it in to him, so as to prevent a fire.

“Yeah, I remember reading comics and seeing Static Shock move stuff around with electricity, and thinking ‘what if I could do that without the electricity?’ It’s what led to me making the Mag Glove. And my specialty is pretty broad, yeah, but I struggle with making bigger stuff. I’d like to maybe get a battlesuit or two for fights against Brutes and whatnot, but those will take AGES to troubleshoot and design and whatnot.”

After he’s done rambling, he listens avidly to Cavalier as he describes the mechanics of his power, soaking in the details like a sponge. He’s about to ask how the flight factors in when he gets a ping from his NERV, causing him to stop for a moment.

“Huh? What’s this..?”

“I mean.. I’m not sure? I’ve only been a Ward for a couple of weeks so far, and I’m not entirely sure that they bring things up like that. Besides, I’m still trying to get the hang of what my teammates’ powers are.”

He pays attention to the demonstration, humming in thought as he briefly wonders about something, which he asks out loud. “So, can you control the intensity of your projectiles? Like, adjusting the temperature of fire, or the voltage of electricity?”

He looks around as they’re patrolling, taking in the run-down area. He knows it was cleared for him to come along, but he can’t help this feeling of.. foreboding? He can’t exactly put words to it. Oh well.

Doc hums to himself, striding along in his costume and fiddling with his visor. “You really think so? I reckon maybe I’ll give it a shot. Though I’m also thinking I might branch into electromagnetism some more - might be able to rig some kind of propulsion unit.”

He checks over his gear again, making sure he’s not missing his things. Zipcuffs, check. NERV, check. A few of his Chainvolt grenades, check. Freyr stun pistol, check. Mag Glove, check. Finally, his medkit; check. Honestly, he might need to try and relax this habit a bit.

He turns back to Cavalier and gives him a curious look. “So, uh, how’s your power work, anyways? I thought it was something like fireballs at one point, but then another time it was some kind of freeze beam? What’s up with that?”

Doc finds his interest piqued at that. Someone shipped in from somewhere else? Explains the slight accent, at the very least. He gives a bit of a sympathetic grin in response as she mentions not having a costume yet.

“Yeah, I know what you mean. I remember when I went through the hell that is Imaging. I swear, they had no idea what they were thinking until I managed to sell them on my current look. Almost got called Crown Joule, believe it or not.”

He hums to himself as he returns some of his attention to his game and hums in affirmative to her remark about the building. “Yeah, it’s really neat. I’ve been having some plans on adding to the Commons, actually. Set up a console and some controllers, download a bunch of games onto it from different game systems so we don’t gotta have a bunch of different appliances. Might take a while to program, but I reckon I could do it.”

Doc doesn't really notice Cass entering, still playing on his handheld. It isn't until she makes herself known that he looks over at her. He takes in her appearance and tilts his head in confusion, unsure of who she is and why she's here.

"It's a handheld. Y'know, like a Nintendo Switch? My own model, though, made it myself. Didn't wanna have to spend money on cartridges that aren't sold anymore when I can just get the ROMs and port them over to my own." His voice has a bit of a foreign accent to it, just barely noticeable, due to his Swedish heritage.

He looks at her again, not entirely sure of her appearance. Especially since she's not got a mask on. Maybe she's another Ward?

"Sorry, but uh, I don't know you. You another one of the Wards? I only joined recently - debuted as Doc Pulsar."

Doc Pulsar is sitting around in the commons, currently messing with a small device which looks remarkably like a handheld gaming console. Funnily enough, it looks nothing like any handheld on the market, despite the resemblance to a Switch and how he's currently playing a Pokemon game on it. Something he made himself, actually!

In any case, he's currently in his under-costume, a lightly-armored blue and white jumpsuit with a mask that covers his head entirely save for his mouth, eyes, and hair. He's off-duty for now, after all, even though he recently got back from patrol. He wanted to game really quick, sue him.

He's paying attention to his game more than his surroundings, so anybody showing up will have to get his attention if they want to chat.