Sonata 8
-o-
"This...is not the best idea you have ever had. We shouldn't be here. Attending this could sign a warrant for us that we aren't ready to deal with. Listen to me, Composer. We can still leave. Back out, and do things our way as we have been doing. This isn't the right choice. If the PRT catch wind…."
Grunge's fretting was silenced by a raised hand.
"Enough, Grunge." She stated, smiling idly beneath her scarf. She was wearing a navy blue pinstripe suit. The tie was white with black staff lines running down it, an alto clef at the top near her throat. Her hair was hidden by a fedora, and her mouth was wrapped in a white scarf with the music notation for George Gershwin's 'Rhapsody in Blue' printed on it.
"We can't back down now. The fact is, we've made ourselves known," The Composer shrugged helplessly. "Either we make a stand here and now, show ourselves to be strong... or we might not ever get another chance. And besides, Chicago said that Faultline's crew will be here as well. They're mercenaries, neutral, so we're safe. Happy?"
"No." The large man growled. "I'm going to be in the same room as Brockton Bay's most wanted and not slapping cuffs on them. I am decidedly. Not. Happy."
"Well tough, because Kaiser is coming through that door in precisely ten seconds. Smile!"
Grunge scowled beneath his bandana, and shifted his stance to indicate as much.
"Close enough."
The door to Somer's Rock swung open, granting entrance to several members of the Empire Eighty Eight. Night, Fog, Krieg, Hookwolf and, surprisingly enough, Purity walked in. Heading them off was Kaiser, who was flanked by Fenja and Menja.
The leader of Brockton Bay's resident neonazis froze instantly as he caught sight of the Reaper in chief.
"Kaiser!" The Composer threw her arms wide in greeting. "Welcome to Somer's Rock. Pull up a seat, I'm certain everyone else will be here shortly."
Kaiser slowly swept his gaze across the room, taking in the sight of the other people present.
One of them, dressed as a cowboy, was sitting on a stool at the bar and raised a drink in greeting.
Two of them, a black girl and a white boy, were sitting in a booth. The guy was idly flicking his thumb at his phone and the girl was bobbing her head to the music on a pair of headphones. The guy raised his hand in a lazy wave, then leaned over and slapped the girl upside the back of her head before she could make a move. She glared at him for a second before rolling her eyes and nodding her head to the beat of her music.
To the shock of most of the E88, there were a pair of kids wearing hoodies running around the border of the room, idly laughing as they appeared to play tag. Much to the ire of the waitress and amusement of the men tending the bar.
Lastly, the Composer was sitting at the head of the table in the middle of the bar, her feet propped up on it, while her bear-like associate stood guard behind her, hovering like a large, menacing shadow.
Kaiser swiftly raised his fist, cutting off any speech from his subordinates. "Composer," He stated darkly. "I was... unaware you would be in attendance."
The Composer shrugged indifferently as she leaned her chair back. "What can I say? I heard that this was where anyone who was planning on doing anything about the ABB was gathering. Seeing how that includes me, I decided to make an appearance. See if I could...contribute so to speak" She tilted her head to the side innocently. "I trust you don't have any objections?"
Kaiser grit his teeth beneath his mask, but then smiled as he turned his head to observe something. "Yes, in fact, I do," He stepped back as the two kids ran in front of him. "This is no place for children. I would ask you to remove them."
The Composer didn't respond. Instead, she raised her right hand and snapped her fingers. "Hip. Hop."
Almost instantly, the two darted over to Hookwolf's side, grabbed his right arm, and wrenched it up to eye-level.
"Hey, what the-!?" He attempted to protest.
The twins ignored him as they focused on the gold-plated watch on his wrist.
"Nixon 42-20 Chrono watch." Hop stated in a serious manner as he held up what appeared to be a jeweler's loupe.
Hookwolf growled as he attempted to wrench his arm back. "Am I supposed to be impressed?"
Hip shrugged as she and her brother released him. "Depends. How much did you pay for it?"
The neonazi grumbled as he rubbed his wrist. "Four hundred bucks, why?"
Hip and Hop gave each other an exasperated look before shaking their heads at him. "You got swindled." They chorused.
Hookwolf's jaw dropped open instantly. "Wait, what!?"
"Yeah, see here?" The two grabbed his arm again, and Hip pointed at a part of the watch near the clasp. "Not only can you buy it for fifty bucks less on Amazon..."
"It's starting to flake right here, see it?" Hop prompted, indicating a slightly, minutely grayed portion of the watch. "At best, I'd put it at fifty, seventy-five considering the quality of the forging. Maybe one of the Japanese ones? They do good work."
"Did, before they took the big dive anyways. And they always rusted sooner or later."
"We'll buy it off you for about, eh..." Hop dug a wad of cash out of his hoody and counted out a few bills. "Eighty bucks?"
"Or!" Hip interjected, holding her hoody open to expose an array of smartphones, wallets, and more gold-plated watches. "You can get a discount when buying a new one! Guaranteed to be real, not a fake!"
"You can confirm it with Louie." Hop jerked his thumb at the bar, and the guy in the Hawaiian shirt raised a hand in acknowledgement.
Hookwolf worked his jaw uselessly as he tried to process what he had just heard.
"I know, they scare me too!" The cowboy called out from the bar.
"Twenty-five percent of my street knowledge comes from them." The guy sitting at the booth added. "And that's apiece."
"So," The Composer concluded. "Any other problems? Ones that might actually be valid?"
Kaiser didn't say anything. Instead, he simply walked up to the other end of the table, drew the chair out, and sat down in it heavily. The rest of the Empire chose a booth opposite the Reapers, and Hookwolf stood behind Kaiser, muttering murderously as he fumbled with the clasp on his watch and half-listened to Hip and Hop rambling off prices and qualities to him.
The Composer smiled and nodded her head at Kaiser. "If it's any comfort, they are here because out of all those who could be called...ranking...in the Reapers, those present are here for a good reason. While we can't match you for Parahuman membership, the Reapers instead exemplify those with extraordinary abilities of a more... common nature. Common, but no less indispensable to us and our way of life. Hip and Hop are young physically, but only just physically. Don't let it fool you." She tilted her head and cupped her chin in idle confusion. "Still, I'd have thought your years of experience would have taught you better than to underestimate others."
Kaiser made to answer, but was interrupted by the door to the bar swinging open, granting access to the Undersiders.
Tattletale took one look at the scene before her and immediately whipped a hand to her mouth to stifle her giggling. Any further mirth was interrupted by Grue ramming his elbow into her stomach, prompting her to double over and shoot her leader a nasty glare.
Without further adieu, the Undersiders walked around to sit in a booth, one conspicuously next to the Reapers. Kaiser's eyebrows raised an inch, before lowering as he watched before facing forward and crossing his arms as he looked across to the Composer.
A sort of silence came over the room. Hip and Hop shared a look before shoving a watch in Hookwolf's hand, along with his wallet. The man blinked in surprise, feeling the lightness in it, but the two were gone before he could say anything, vanished into a side-booth next to Gangsta and Chicago.
Hookwolf made to protest, but was silenced by a scathing look from Kaiser. He then swallowed heavily and started to slip the timepiece on his wrist, noting, with not a small amount of alarm, that the knockoff had somehow disappeared.
South, over by the bar, soon followed the example set, taking his drink and a bottle with him as he picked out a booth of his own. Grunge, on the other hand, with a nod from the Composer, took a seat at one of the last tables left behind the first Reaper.
Kaiser's followers followed suit as well. Menja and Fenja took to a table behind Kaiser, while Hookwolf headed for the bar grumbling. Purity threw a sidelong look at the table, before heading to a still empty booth followed by Night and Fog while Krieg seated himself with Hookwolf.
Suddenly, the door to the bar opened again, revealing the nigh-skeletal yet somehow still imposing form of Coil. The influential would-be general observed the room silently for a whole moment, seeming to think on something. Finally, he came to a decision and walked down the length of the table, until he took a seat at the Composer's end to her left, with two seats still separating the them.
The Composer gave him a casual, silent nod, which he returned.
Next, the doors opened to allow Faultline and her group to enter the bar. She too looked over those present without comment, but instead of immediately taking a seat, she circled around in just such a way so that she could pass by the Undersiders and give Tattletale a venomous glare before seating herself between Coil and Kaiser.
Meanwhile, with her group, Newter tried to casually amble towards the bar, but was grabbed by his shoulder by Gregor and all but dragged to a booth alongside Labyrinth and Spitfire.
The whole time, the Undersiders had been talking to each other in hushed tones, until finally Grue stood up, walked over to the table, and sat on the Composer's right, with only one chair separating them.
When the door opened a sixth time, everyone present were all prepared for the scum of the earth made corporeal to walk through the door. As such, it was a pleasant surprise when instead three strangers and something entered the room.
The leader, a male in a tophat, tipped his hat to the onlookers respectively. "Are there any objections to me stepping up to offer my opinion?"
"The... Travelers, yes?" Coil asked in a calm yet... untouchable voice. "You are not from here."
"No, they are not." Chicago interjected, still flicking through his phone. "The Travelers, made of Trickster," He pointed at the leader, "Sundancer," A girl in a sun-themed costume, "Ballistic," A heavily-built and armored guy, "And Genesis in one of her many many faces." He concluded with the massive creature accompanying them. "Debuted in Wisconsin, moved on to Michigan, Indiana, Ohio, Pennsylvania... you guys sure get around a lot, don't you?"
Trickster eyed the Reaper uneasily. "You're... well informed."
Chicago shrugged in a bored manner. "What can I say? I like to be well-informed. Anyways, house rules apply. Don't start, don't try to get someone else to start, if you stick up, you get put down. Hard."
Trickster held his hat's brim as he nodded. "Understood. Now then..." He took a seat between Grue and Kaiser and opposite Coil, folding his arms on the table. "Shall we begin?"
Faultline grimaced as she crossed her arms and shook her head. "Unfortunately not. As much as it pains me to say it, we're waiting for one more party."
"Who?"
SLAM!
The sheer hate and disgust that filled the room was all the answer needed. That, and some diluted yet foul smell. South, closest to the door, wrinkled his nose as a look of sheer nausea overtook him and proceeded to shove most of his face into his drink and chug.
The Merchants were either too drugged out of their minds, too stupid, or simply uncaring as to the ire being universally directed towards them, Skidmark slouched his way towards the central table.
However, the negative emotions were made wholly apparent when Kaiser kicked away the chair he was about sit in. Skidmark snarled, anger flashing through the drugged haze apparent in his eyes. "The fuck?"
Kaiser's eyes narrowed through the slits in his crowned helmet, his tone civil and calm yet oddly threatening. "Find a booth."
Skidmark openly frowned, revealing his yellowed teeth beneath his cracked lips. "This cuz I'm black eh? Tha' what you are all about right?"
"Dude!" Gangsta protested from where she was sitting. "I'm black, and I'm offended that you tried to sit there. And that you're black in general."
Kaiser ignored Gangsta, instead continuing. "You can find a booth because you and your lot are pathetic, burnt-out trash not worth talking to. You've nothing to offer sitting here. And this is for those with something to offer. So allow me to repeat myself. Find. A. Booth."
"Fuck you man! We hold territory, we're the top sell-"
He was cut off by Hip and Hop breaking into laughter.
"Please! You? Territory?" Hip sniggered. "I struggle to call the abandoned warehouses on the Docks prime real estate."
"And as for selling?" Hop went on. "Well... I'd take it up with Little Vinny, or the Gray Hearts about who's more popular. Me thinks they might protest a bit."
"Not to mention..." Grue finished in a dark tone, "That your primary clientele is children."
The drug-vendor took a moment to process that statement before realizing he'd been insulted. "Hey!" Skidmark took a step forwards. "We don't just sell to brats, we sell to-"
"ENOUGH!" Most of the people present jumped in shock when South raised his bottle up high and slammed it hard on his table. "Skidmark, shut your low-life bumpkin mouth right now and sit your ass down, or I swear to god I will stand up and sit it for you!"
The Merchants stared at the cowboy worriedly for a second before swallowing heavily and making their way over to a booth, Skidmark slurring curses under his breath the entire time.
"Thank you... Southern, was it?" Faultline stated politely.
South tipped his hat in acknowledgement. "Just doin' the right thing, ma'am. Nothin' to it but some common courtesy."
"Right then!" The Composer clapped her hands and drew attention to herself. "For better or for worse, that's everyone. Time to get this meeting under way, agreed?"
There were acknowledgments from all around the table. Most of the villains present sat up a bit straighter, refocusing their attention on what was being said, analyzing it for any angle they could play.
Kaiser nodded in agreement with what the Composer said. "Very well then. I presume you all know the reason we are here?"
"The ABB." Coil drawled.
"More specifically..." The Composer cut in, "The situation going on in the streets. The ABB are running rampant all over Brockton, and it keeps falling to us to handle what the PRT can't." The Composer nodded off to one of the side booths. "Chicago?"
The Reaper tapped on his phone idly. "Twenty-five dead, about two hundred odd wounded, all but literal warfare nearly everywhere between them and the police and the PRT. And it looks like things are just going to escalate from here. The PRT Directors have been clamoring for an improvement of the situation, and unless things change soon, I've got a feeling that Director 'Total Warfare' Tagg will call in the big guns sooner rather than later. Thankfully Lung hasn't been out on the streets, preferring to stay at their HQ and run things, wherever the hell that is. But we still got Bakuda and Lee doing their thing and I've been hearing rumors that they got outright barracks of new recruits springing up in their turf. Say what you will about it, press-ganging might suck, but it works." Chicago trailed off a bit before snapping his fingers. "Oh, yeah, and this matters to you because they're taking territory, screwing with business, blah blah blah."
"Yes, it is... inconvenient." Kaiser agreed tersely.
"You've lost what's got to be at least ten-kay in property damages and loss of varying products." Hip deadpanned.
"Either shape up or go under. Actually, on second thought-OW!" Hop yelped when South leaned close to him and rapped his fist on his head. He glared at the cowboy for a moment before wisely pursing his lips.
"The Composer sighed and leaned back in her chair. "Between my Reapers and the PRT, we've been able to keep the worst of the damage to non-populated areas. We have Bakuda's bombing under control, but we can't keep up forever. Not with how they've been swelling their ranks."
Coil did the opposite, leaning forward and peaking his fingers in front of him. "Even I must admit that while damage to my operations is merely superficial at this point in time, it's building up to become a significant hindrance."
"They're being reckless." Faultline stated idly, as though discussing the whether. "Sooner or later, something will have to give."
"And that right there is the problem." Kaiser stated. "Right now, they're explosive both literally and figuratively. Under any other circumstances, this would be a good thing: they'd be doing no real damage and eventually end up shredded. Unfortunately, that is not the case. When they finally self-destruct, there is the all-too-real possibility that they will take all of us with them. As things are, the build up is bad enough, what with heroes from all over the country trying to rectify the situation. The longer we wait, the worse things become for us."
"Bakuda is the cornerstone of this whole debacle." Grue stated darkly. "Lung might be the leader, Oni Lee might be devoted, but Bakuda is the one fueling this. And considering the way she's acting, that's no metaphor. She's all but doubled their standing membership through her recruitment tactics, Personally, I wouldn't mind seeing her go down permanently, but seeing how she's been advertising the fact that her death will result in Brockton Bay going up in flames, I don't see that happening."
The Composer nodded. "We're on the lookout for anything, but nothing we've found so far seems to be up that alley. So either Bakuda is bluffing..."
"Or she's talking about her 'volunteers', or she has something that hasn't been found yet. Something big that she's either working on or already finished and stashed somewhere." Grue finished.
"So, we're in agreement?" Kaiser looked around the table. "The ABB's actions cannot be left unattended anymore."
Everyone at the table gave sounds of agreement, with more than a few acknowledgements coming from the other villains in the room.
"Very well then." Coil nodded. "We'll establish a truce. I will contact the authorities and let them know that illegal activity will be kept to a minimum. This will keep any official troops from targeting us and focusing on the ABB. We stand together if we can to take the ABB down, while on the other hand..." He gave the Merchants a sidelong glare. "If we can't cooperate with someone, we simply ignore them. No fighting, no thefts, no territory grabs, no insults. Agreed?"
Most of the villains gave indications of agreement, save for Faultline.
The mercenary shrugged indifferently. "I won't do anything either way unless someone pays me, you all already know that, so unless someone pays up..."
Coil nodded in acceptance. "Understood. Kaiser?"
"I can live with this."
"We're in." Grue nodded.
"Us too, I guess." Trickster shrugged indifferently.
The Composer folded her hands in front of her face before glancing back at the other Reapers present. "Guys?"
Grunge nodded in agreement. "It sounds reasonable."
South raised his bottle. "Hear hear."
Hip and Hop nodded eagerly. "Let's do it!" "Yeah!"
Chicago merely rolled his eyes, waving his hand on.
Gangsta hummed contemplatively before slowly and carefully posing a question. "Define 'insult'."
THWAP!
"OUCH!"
"We'll do it." The Composer deadpanned.
"Very well then." Coil nodded. "I suppose that's the end of that. Are there any other particularly pressing matters to be addressed?"
"Yeah."
All attention snapped over to Hookwolf as he stood up, glaring at the Undersiders.
"I've got a problem here. With them."
Most of the people present tensed, watching the conflict's start beginning.
"More specifically," He jabbed a finger at Bitch. "Her."
"What's your problem with us?" Grue asked, flaring his aura of darkness lightly.
"That psychobitch, Hellhound-"
"The name. Is Bitch."
"Don't give a damn. She attacked my business. My customers."
"This is Brockton Bay." Grue stated tersely after sparing Bitch a venomous look. "If you're not prepared to run risks, then you're in the wrong business."
"This is a matter of respect." Hookwolf growled. "If you've got an issue, you bring it to me. Otherwise, things will get... messy."
"You mean give you a warning?" Bitch spat. "Like hell. It doesn't matter what you do, I'll break up any dogfighting rings you have the balls to set up in this town."
Grue was barely able to hide a twitch, while Tattletale grimaced and slapped her forehead.
"Is this a declaration of war, Undersiders?" Kaiser asked calmly. "And so soon after we've established a truce too? I must say, I'm disappointed."
Grue shook his head tersely. "Look, I'm not going to stop Bitch from doing what she has to."
"Won't..." Kaiser intoned. "Or can't?"
"Won't." Grue growled. "Lots of capes have hang-ups they're unwilling to let go of. Things that you don't get in the way of. Bitch's is dog cruelty. If you screw with any dogs in Brockton Bay, she won't let it go. It's common knowledge."
Kaiser sniffed imperiously. "I delegate to my underlings and leave minor details to them. Hookwolf has been out of town recently. He must not have heard."
Most of the other villains tensed visibly. They all knew that the statement was pure and utter crap, but none of them were willing to call him out on it.
"Oh really?"
Well, most of them weren't.
Chicago was giving Hookwolf a contemplative look. "Where were you?"
Kaiser tensed visibly, clearly not expecting anyone to respond. "Composer, I would recommend that your underling restrain himself."
The Composer tilted her head innocently. "Oh? Why? I don't see a problem. Chicago's just trying to strike up a conversation, aren't you Chicago?"
The hooded Reaper nodded in agreement. "Oh yeah, definitely. So come on, Hookwolf. Tell us. Where were you?"
The masked neonazi glanced around uneasily before growling darkly at Chicago. "I don't need to tell you, dumbass."
"Come on," Chicago prompted. "It's just an innocent question, no reason to get worked up. Just tell us where you were. Just need the name of the city Hookwolf, that's all."
Hookwolf growled and was about to tell Chicago to fuck off, but was silenced by a glare from Kaiser. One that said 'say something adequate or die'. The Empire Parahuman swallowed uneasily before crossing his arms. "I was in Boston. Needed to negotiate some deals with a gang up there."
Chicago just hummed to himself for a moment, illuminated by the light of his cellphone before ultimately shrugging and pocketing the device. "I see. You were in Boston. That's your story. And you're sticking to it?"
"Damn straight," The parahuman stood a bit taller as he glared imperiously at the Reaper. "Got a problem with it?"
Chicago put his hands up in surrender. "No no, not at all. If you say you were in Boston, who am I to contest your claim. It's just, well..." The rebel artist sighed woefully. "It appears that by saying you're right, someone else is forcibly wrong. And they ever so hate to be told they're wrong."
"Oh yeah?" Hookwolf sneered arrogantly. "And who's that?"
In a millisecond, Chicago's expression flipped, going from a relaxed and laidback smile to a purely predatory grin. "Why, Accord of course."
Hookwolf seemed to deflate almost instantly. "W-what!?" He whimpered.
"Yup! See..." Chicago whipped his phone out and displayed the screen for all to see. On it was a list of names. "Accord is extremely meticulous, and he tries his best to garner public support. As such, in the name of good relations with the common folk, he keeps a nice little record of any and all parahumans that set foot in the city. But, oh me oh my!" The Reaper mock-lamented. "I just can't seem to find your name anywhere on here. Now isn't that odd?"
Hookwolf stammered uselessly, trying to find an excuse. "I-I-I t-that is, er-!"
"Oh well!" Chicago withdrew the phone and began typing in earnest. "An honest mistake, easily sorted out. I've got a friend in Boston, works for the Ambassadors, owes me a favor. I'll just set up a meeting with Accord and we can get this whole mix-up fixed right up, m'kay?"
"NO!" Hookwolf bellowed, jerking forwards towards Chicago. He then froze in abject horror, realizing what he had just done. All eyes of the meeting were on him. Some were disgusted, others amused, but only one person's were filled with pure, raw fury, and Hookwolf knew even without turning around that he'd be paying dearly later.
His expression neutral, Chicago shut his phone off and placed it face down on the table before him. "Do me a favor, Hookwolf," He intoned darkly, not even turning his head to look at the neonazi. "Next time you try and lie while I'm in the room? Don't insult me."
The wolf-themed parahuman shook furiously, mere moments from leaping at the Reaper and wringing his scrawny neck. But before he could...
"Hookwolf." He froze as Kaiser's voice cut through the silence like a frozen, arctic blade. "Sit. Down. Now."
Shivering violently, Hookwolf turned around and trudged back to the Empire's booth, dropping heavily into his seat.
For several minutes, silence reigned over the bar until finally the Composer broke it by clapping her hands together. "Welp!" She stated casually as she stood up from the table. "That's that! I'd say we're done here. Gangsta, Chicago, Grunge, South, let's bounce. Hip, Hop, give back the silverware."
A pair of depressed "Awwwwww!"s rang out.
"No buts, you two. Now hurry up, otherwise we'll miss Chiptune and Synth's broadcast."
The mundane Reapers all stood up from their spots and followed her out the door, the twins making a stop at the bar to dump out a rather alarming amount of cutlery from their hoodies.
A few minutes after the departure of the street artists, Grue stood up silently from the table, followed by the rest of his gang as he left Somer's Rock.
However, as Faultline made to stand up, Coil held up his hand, causing the mercenary to stop.
"There is another... issue I would like to discuss." The reclusive man stated darkly. "Withoutthe presence of the Composer and her... friends."
Faultline sunk back into her chair, gesturing for him to continue.
"I will not mince words with any of you: I am concerned about the Reapers." Coil laid out bluntly. "It appears that we have unknowingly allowed a new threat to our standings here in Brockton Bay to rise up without our notice. As they have demonstrated tonight, they have ample resources, far more than any of us could have possibly predicted."
Kaiser nodded solemnly in agreement. "They are bold. Well informed. Though they might feign weakness and innocence, their strength is unmistakable."
Trickster glanced up and down the table warily. "Don't you guys think you're overreacting a bit? I mean... they're just a bunch of artists!"
Coil snorted mockingly. "Just a bunch of artists, just a drug kitchen, just a neighborhood watch. That's how it all starts. One small thing, one small organization. From there, it grows, becoming bigger and stronger until the end result is unavoidable: a faction in the world's neverending struggle for power. A menace to us all."
Faultline huffed and crossed her arms. "To you, maybe. This doesn't concern me in the slightest."
Coil shrugged indifferently. "So be it. Nevertheless, it's the best that we all remain informed, one way or another. Whether we like it or not, the Reapers are well on their way to becoming major players in this city. That, or they might be ones already. Time will tell. Either way, I believe it would be in our best intentions if we all agreed to keep a close eye on the Reapers, and ensure that their growth does not become... an issue, for our businesses. Agreed?"
Kaiser rapped his iron-clad fist on the table decisively. "Agreed."
Trickster eyed the other villains uneasily before sighing despondently. "I still say you're nuts but... alright. I'm in."
Faultine scoffed and leaned back in her chair. "Whatever..."
"Then we have an agreement." Coil concluded. "Very well then. I believe that is everything. Goodnight to you all, and good hunting."
As the meeting began to wind down, none of the villains noticed a small pire of unearthly flames light up in the rafters of the bar before fading away.
-o-
"Goodnight to you all, and good hunting."
The Composer hummed idly as she clicked the stop button on the tape recorder before handing it back to Psychedelic. "My my," She mused. "They seem rather energetic now, don't they?"
Grunge sighed heavily, slapping his hand to his face. "You're playing with fire, Composer."
"Aw come on, big guy!" Gangsta teased as she floated just above the rest of the group. "Sure, this shit is dangerous, but you gotta admit, it's fun!"
The bear-like Reaper's response was a depressed groan, which South answered by patting his friend on the back while he took a heavy swig from his bottle.
Chicago chuckled as he followed along. "Looks like things are getting interesting.
"Oh yeah, definitely!" Hip cheered.
"Place your bets, the games are about to begin!" Hop added.
The Composer laughed encouragingly for a moment before sighing heavily and leaning her head back to stare up at the sky. "Well, no matter how you cut it, things are about to get very serious. Guys?"
Almost instantly, the mood of the group shifted, with everyone standing up a bit straighter and paying just that much more attention.
"I'll put my ear to the ground in the PRT and tell you what comes up." Grunge grunted.
"I'll reroute Noise supplies, get everyone kitted out and ready to fight." South stated.
"I'll get some intel from a few friends in high places..." Chicago mused.
"And in the meantime!" Hip started.
"We'll bring in the word from the street!" Hop finished.
"I'll do my best to get everyone revved up and raring to go!" Gangsta exclaimed exuberantly.
Psychedelic brought his hands up before his mask and cracked his knuckles definitively.
The Composer smiled behind her scarf as she bowed her head, brought her hand up to her hat and tilted it downwards. "Well then... ready or not, Brockton Bay."
She looked up once anew, a determined spark in her eyes.
"The Reapers are going to war."