Tyroc
“Yeah, if you could stick around, that would be great,” the officer says. You’re pleased to get an officer in charge that likes you. Sometimes you get jerks that think you’re doing their job for them and making them feel obsolete. They tend to give you a hard time, no matter how helpful you’ve been. As Hammer is lead out to a paddywagon outside, he glares at you until he can’t strain his neck to see you anymore. Great, another elite con that would rather see you dead than alive. Luckily, he won’t be in any position to do anything about it for some time.
A few EMTs enter and take care of the wounded gunmen and check over the bank staff and customers. One, a young, dark haired man, walks up to you. “Are you alright, Tyroc? And, uh, if you are,” he says pulling out a pad and pen, “could you sign this for my little brother?”
Sarah
“Uh, yeah, sure, if you want to talk,” he says nodding, though he seemed a bit caught off by it. He has the waitress refill his coffee cup as well.
He smiles. “The Rangers…you know, I don’t think it matters what they do, it looks like they’re in for another 50-year curse,” he says shaking his head. “Unlike my Islanders, I think they could take the cup next year. The Giants resigned Manning,” he adds, “which is great, I just couldn’t see him wearing any other colors.”
“Tyler’s been distant, has he? I suppose it’s a difficult situation. Have you talked with him?” he asks, sipping at his coffee.
Misha
Fifteen minutes later, local police, FBI, and ACE are on the scene. Crawford doesn’t say a word as he is put in the back seat of a cruiser, staring forward coolly the whole time. His hands were covered in titanium bonds, to keep the acid he produces through them at bay.
Tellman, a baseline ACE sub-operative, approaches you. “Agent 6, I am to tell you that you need to report to the Bureau in Washington tomorrow for a new assignment.” You both watch as the cruiser with Crawford, as well as a number of other vehicles following it, leaves. “Good job.”
Mimic
You can make out a bit of bruise by the light of the streetlamps on her cheek, but she nods and says, “Yes, I’m fine.” She nods at you offer and smiles. “Thanks Miguel, I appreciate that.”
“That was Carlos. He’s my…I work for him,” she says as you walk. “I didn’t want to work tonight, I told him I was sick, so yes, I lied to him. But he also thinks I stole some money from him, which I didn’t. He’s not very reasonable though, I’m really glad you came when you did. If he doesn’t find his money, though, I’m sure that’s not the last I’ll hear of it,” she says with a frown, a tear rolling down her cheek.
Blizzard
Strafe stops and turns around as you case after him. He looks pretty peeved. “You dumb bitch, in case you haven’t noticed, I’m the one with the gun. And that’s not ‘some poor man’, it’s a corpelite that was stupid enough to try and embezzle 850 grand from his company. Now if you know what’s best for you, you’ll stay the hell out of my way!” Before he turns to leave, he speaks into his comm. “Random, take care of this!” He runs off once more down the alleyway.
Lupa
“I believe the names are used to differentiate when an elite is acting in either an official manner or as a civilian. Also, there are those that wish to no longer use their given names, believing they have transcended them with the emergence of their abilities,” Dunn replies. “Or so I understand.”
“What? You quit?” Allen says in shock. “That’s gratitude for ya. Whatever, go ahead and leave, I don’t need you anyway.”
Bonnie is three tables away. She jumps and down, cheering. “Alright, you go, girl!”
Allen glares at Bonnie. “You want to be unemployed, too?”
“Go ahead, you can do all the work yourself this morning,” Bonnie replies with a smirk.
Allen just growls and stomps back into the kitchen.
“Shall we go?” Dunn says, standing up.
Bonnie rushes over to you. “Good luck, hon. Don’t forget the little people when you get all rich and famous,” she says with a grin.
Dunn scans the parking lot as you leave the diner. He points to his car, a black sedan. “There, let’s go,” he says, sounding a bit in a hurry. As you get in the car, you spot another man wearing a suit and sunglasses similar to Dunn’s entering the diner. You shrug it off as coincidence as the car begins to pull out of its spot. “I’ll have the papers ready for you when we board the aerodyne,” Dunn says, staring into his rear view mirror.
Inside the diner, the man that just entered smiles and approaches Bonnie. “You forget something?” she asks to him.
He looks at her quizzically. “Forget something? Uh, no, my name is Agent Dunn,” he says, flashing ID, “I’m here to speak with a Rachel Masters, can you direct me to her please?”
Shimmering Samurai
The look you get from Screaming Eagle after your query is one you’ve never seen from her before. “Um, Kiro, are you sitting down? I have some…disturbing news for you.” She pauses a moment. “Now understand that I only learned of this today, I had no idea, and I haven’t been keeping it from you. In fact, as soon as I found out, I’ve been trying to contact you.” You frown at her, wishing she’d get to the point.
“Kiro, you look like Kensei because…you’re his clone.”
Kensei and Order, both of whom can hear the conversation, emit a synchronized, “What!?”
