Finding Fear And Death at Montauk Point

August 9, 2014: When the deadman timer for Phobos visit with Waller lapses, the Titans are called to see what happened.

Various Places

The Titans are scattered across the country when the call comes…



  • Danny the Street — one of Gar's teammates from the weirdest super-team on earth, a sentient, living, transgendered STREET.

Mood Music:

Four hours and five minutes. Kate gave it an extra five minutes. Gods aren't great at time, right? But when there was no word from Alex, she started texting Titans. Vorpal and Gar first, really. She knows them better, and she knows they're not going to entirely go off half-cocked.

« Hey guys, it's Kate. So, Alex had a meeting with Waller at noon, and he wanted me to get in touch with you guys if I didn't hear from him in four hours. Four hours gone, and no word. I'm sort of in Seattle, do you have someone who can do a quick pick-up? »


Gar was in Gotham City, not a place he really WANTS to be, but Vorpal was there for reasons and Gar went to pick up the wreckage when Keef didn't make it back overnight. Yeah, Changeling is pretty confident in his ability to handle most of what Bad Stuff that Gotham can dish out, but he's had several years of training over Keith in that area, and he knows how to hide. Nobody really notices that a rat is green in Gotham - it's probably just contaminated like the others.

However, he's not in Gotham when Kate texts. He's just finished with a haircut and shave and wash and massage at the Spa Day Out Salon on the corner of Danny the Street and Babycakes Avenue, which is … not in a normal zip code. Danny the Street changes zip codes like other drag queens change tiaras, and he shoos Gar off to the enchanted Emerald City when the text arrives. Specifically, Gar opens a door, and steps out of a closet into a hotel room. Kate's hotel room.

"Not funny, Danny," Gar says, laughing. It was funny.

He pulls a purple feather boa off his shoulders and hands it to Kate. "So what's going on again?"


"I'm not sure the boa thing is me, frankly," Vorpal says, coming in after Gar wearing rather better clothes than he had when the green-haired clown decided he needed a slashing. They're better clothes than the clothes he's owned for the last few years, even. Black turtleneck, dark jeans… and a green boa. He takes the boa off when he walks into the room after Gar and the door is closed behind them, so as not to hurt Danny's feelings. The turtleneck, he doesn't resent- bizarrely enough, a purple feline looks good in a turtleneck. There's something terribly Beatnik-ish about it. He was going to change into his human self when Gar got a text from a certain archer whom Vorpal knows not to call Hawkette for fear of physical punishment and gnashing of teeth. He decides, therefore, to stay purple. Just in case. Since, after all, he has no powers in his human form.


Kate quirks a brow as Gar walks out of the closet, setting her phone down. "Okay, I sort of figured you could manage transportation, but I'll admit that I wasn't expecting you to come out of the closet with boas," she drawls, a flicker of amusement crossing her features. "Short version, it looks like Waller really was after Alex. She set up a meet with him. He went. Apparently it didn't go as planned, because he hasn't gotten back in touch, which means we need to go back to the meet spot and figure out what happened."


Hey now. Zatanna was raised in Gotham. Kinda. And it wasn't that bad of a place. Certainly it was better if you could make a crook's gun jam, and generally magic your way out of tricks, but Zatanna had more than a little love for the city.

Even if it was… kinda-sorta falling apart.

Anyways! Zatanna was, at the moment, in Shadowcrest. Laying on her back on her bed, fully dressed, kinda… well, she had her head hanging off of the edge of the bed, and her arms splayed to each side. Typically, it was known as the 'i am so bored' stance, even if Zee wasn't, exactly bored at the moment. She was thoughtful.

But if she had to be bored, she would choose to be made of mahogany.


"It pays to have your ear to the street," Gar says, smirking madly as he reflexively dodges in case Keith decides to punch him for that one. Puns, the one thing that Beast Boy was noted for that Changeling is hoping to keep. Well, maybe not so many animal puns. Fewer but better selected.

"Afraid we have to go back in the closet for a minute, but it won't be too long," Gar says, sending a text to Danny again. The closet door opens again showing a street scene, NOT the clothing that it should be showing, and Gar says, "After you?" letting the others go through first. Danny will drop them off at the arranged location. Gar is going to have to buy him a nice present. Something on the order of a cigar store indian or a construction worker. Maybe a cop. Or a sailor.


Keith doesn't punch Gar-it's too obvious. He pinches him, instead

And then, the revelation.

How to ruin Keith's day in three easy steps:

Step #1: Tell him Amanda Waller may have done something to his team.

Step #2: Tell him that she may have done that to his LEAST favorite team-member, forcing him to admit that, yes, while he considered the man an insufferable, arrogant windbag… that, ultimately, he had never done anything bad to him and that, in his own, irritating way, had expressed concern over his lack of training for the good of the team. Even when there were many other ways that he could have said it that wouldn't have triggered Vorpal's diva button.

Step 3: Wait until he realizes that, after a night of being whacked out on LSD thanks to the Joker, he must participate in a rescue operation instead of sleeping comfortably. Because NOT participating is out of the question. This is a Titan, a team-member. He knows Phobos would do the same for him. Even if half of the rescue would involve Phobos telling him how he could have avoided getting into this predicament in the first place

Keith stops for a second… and thinks about that last bit… and the fact that Phobos is the one currently potentially a priso-
"We're going to need some… reinforcements." The Cheshire says, reaching into his pants to take out his phone and prepares a text to be sent to two people— A certain Ms. Z, and a certain Miguelito.

****Wall. may have Phbs. R U avail? We need to fix.****

Yeah, you try texting with claws. The result is that Vorpal texts like a twelve-year-old talking to her BFF.
Despite their personality clashes, Vorpal didn't hate Phobos. He just… didn't see themselves sharing a beer and watching the Notebook. Which is something that, believe it or not, has actually happened in the tower.

"I'm texting Zee, because magic, and Bunker, because awesome bricks of doom. Sounds good?"

At Kate and Gar's assent, he will fire that message like some medieval damosel tying a love-letter to the leg of a pigeon and throwing them off the balcony with a dramatic 'FLY! FLY! Go and share my innermost yearnings with the breast of my beloved!'

Only nowhere near as hystrionic. Or stalkerish.

"After you," he says, mimicking Gar, and waving to Kate to indicate the closet, as he types the last of the message.


The phone on her nightstand beeps, and Zatanna sits up straight right away, a little sound kinda leaving her.

"Ohhhhhmigosh. What is that?" she says out loud, kinda glancing left and right. Another moment, and another beep leaves the phone. Swinging her socked feet out of her bed, she orients herself towards her nightstand, plucking up her phone (it had a little dangly black cat on a chain on the end), swiping up to check the messages.

Zatanna grins.

It was from a nearby door that a knocking sound occured, and soon enough, Zatanna would open it up and enter the room that Gar and Vorpal were in, waggling her magic wand in the air. "…hey guys! What did I miss?"

She was wearing her superhero outfit - including the top hat.


Bunker is, despite protests to the negative, actually feeling a little homesick-ish, and has decided to cure that with some retail therapy. So the text finds him about to go into a changing room downtown. He blinks and frowns - the talk about Waller the other day really impressed on him what a threat she could be to anyone who crossed her path. Hurridly he texts back 'where r u?' to Vorpal, and he arranges for everything he's bought so far to be delivered to his apartment. OK, big cities are nice for things like that.


"I don't even…the closet, huh?" Kate takes a moment to make sure she has all of her equipment, dropping her sunglasses from her head back into her nose before she steps through the door. "That is admittedly a pretty cool trick. And way, way more convenient than taking a jet."


Gar says to Zatanna, "You get to meet my friend Danny, he's a big fan of yours."

Once Zatanna goes through the closet door she'll find herself (and Gar and Vorpal and Kate) in a street that … well. Danny is a transvestite transgendered living location. He's a street about two and a half blocks long (at the moment) with a number of shopfronts and buildings — all of which are festooned with rainbow flags, garlands, and oh yeah, the Army Surplus Store across the street has a macho mannequin in the window wearing pink camoflage. The door from the closet opens onto the side of a short alley, and on the brick side of a building on the alley there are a number of bills, flyers, and a poster, "Zatanna Zatara, World's Greatest Magicienne!!" … and it is entirely accurate and gorgeous but not one that her own publicity people ever created. She's pulling a rabbit out of a hat, but it's actually a cute guy wearing bunny ears and a skimpy costume with a bunny tail.

Gar follows them in and cracks up at the picture. "OK, that's awesome. Which way to Montauk?"

A gust of wind blows another small poster off the wall, and there's a directional sigh, "MONTAUK POINT LIGHTHOUSE" and an arrow down the alley. Which opens onto a regular non-Danny street around the corner from the lighthouse.

"Zee, could you bring Bunker from wherever he is?" Gar asks.


"Danny is… pretty fabulous." Vorpal admits, after waving at Zee and leading the two ladies into the closet and out through the street. "You know, once you get that show going… Danny would probably find it an enormous treat if you made your first stop here." He was, after all, taking them all over the place. Vorpal didn't know just how troublesome it was for the street— but it involved some effort, at least.

Vorpal looks at the poster. "… you need to find that guy, though. Totally. He makes bunny ears look good, and that's hard."

The cat texts to Bunker: ****Stay put. Z will Magick you here****

Yes. He used a 'k' in 'magick'. Because.

To be frank, he is nervous. He doesn't know what they're going to walk into. The humor, therefore, is a defense mechanism. A way of not dealing.


"Wait, I… where are we?" Zatanna says, giving Gar a bit of a look.

Even if what Gar says gives her a little wondering look. A little wondering look that starts to blossom into a grin when she spies that poster. "I have a fan?" she says, her voice lifting up in something akin to awe - something else dancing in her eyes. Pride? Ego? Perhaps a little bit of both.

Regardless, Zatanna's smile dances further.

"I…will magic him here?" A pause. The uncertainty in her eyes fades into something a little more thoughtful. "I… um… let me try something?" Pulling a piece of notebook paper out of a pocket, she scribbles something on it, and casts it away…

Miles away…

A little letter floats in as Bunker no doubt waits. It would probably be odd, a piece of paper borne in on the wind. A piece of paper that seemed to be locked in on him. When Bunker should capture it, if Bunker should open it… it would appear as a tattered old map, with 'touch me' circled and arrows drawn towards it in sharpie around the point on the map that would show Montauk Point. And if he should touch that spot on the map…

In a burst of light…! He would be there.


Bunker gets the text and ducks into a changing booth to change into his costume. He's just getting the cowl tied on when the bit of paper comes floating over the top of the door and drops onto the bench. "Well, that seems pretty straightforward," he mutters as he touches the 'Touch Me' arrow.


Faster than you can say '!em tropsnart', he's at the Point.

"OK, that was pretty cool," he says, as he materializes. He beams at the girl who must be Zatanna. "Thanks!"


When the heroes make their way to Montauk Point via the mystical road or otherwise, the first things that might be noticed are the roadblocks. Wooden blockades had been pulled across the roads that lead up to the raised peninsula that gives place for the Montauk Lighthouse and Museum to reside. A small sign was upon each of those barriers declaring in terribly officious looking text, 'Closed for Renovations.' Yet there is nobody nearby to man those blockades and the area is eerily quiet. There is no traffic, no sign of life, save for a distant tendril of smoke that wends its way upwards.

The remaining distance is easily covered and once the last bend of the road is rounded it leads up to the museum proper. Or rather it should. From this point one should be able to see the lighthouse standing sentinel high upon the ridgeline amongst the other buildings of the weather station, the museum, and the gift shop. But only that small tendril of smoke. Then the driveway leads up to the front gate… and the first signs of carnage are seen.

A pair of black vans are on the side of the road, one turned over on its side and blackened from some form of focused explosion. An armored man dangles out of the window, blackened and burned beyond recognition. Around those vehicles are half a dozen more men. All of them seem to have been victims of gunplay, one having been knocked back and still standing scarecrow-like against the side of one of those vans. And all of them seem to be wearing some form of tactical armor, some with helmets complete with HUDs and cameras, and with various automatic weapons having fallen from nerveless hands.

Further along the driveway and there are more scenes of carnage, more bodies. There are six more vans, numerous fallen dead, all in states of perforation or dismemberment, and where faces can be perceived on corpses there is a distinct look of primal terror. Some of them seem to be locked together, some sort of deathgrapple as if each were trying to kill the other, and across the way there is a man who lies crumpled upon the ground with his back to the wall… his own pistol still held faintly against the remains of his skull.

And yet this is but the area before the museum. The museum itself is perforated with numerous wild rounds. But still there is that tendril of smoke crawling upwards from behind the museum. That smoke which should be where the lighthouse stands, yet it is no longer there.


Kate lets out a low whistle as they come up on the carnage, wrapping her scarf up around her nose and mouth and readying an arrow on her bow. "So…" she says slowly. "I think it's pretty safe to say either he put up a fight, or someone else showed up and they had a nice three-way here." Carefully, she starts to move toward the bodies, checking for any sort of identifying information.


"Wow, I didn't think we took THAT long to get ready," Gar says, eyes narrowing. He decides against doing his usual shapeshift-and-scout-ahead because whatever did this might well still be here. If they're lucky it isn't Waller or the unnamed hypothetical third party.


And there goes another tower. Or, to be accurate, lightouse. A lightouse steeped in history- the first public works project of the new United States. Two hundred and seventeen years old- and it was only two days away from retirement.

"What the fuck is it with this woman and blasting anything that sticks out of the ground?" Vorpal mutters. After a few heartbeats, he says, "Do you think it's Freudian?"

He activates his phone camera and puts the phone on his belt loop, facing forward.
"Be careful, please," the Cheshire says, and focuses. "Bunker, be prepared to make contention walls at a moment's notice in case we come under fire, ok?" He gives his fellow purple teammate a reassuring smile that isn't as genuine as he'd like it to be.


Zatanna tips the edge of her top hat to Bunker, giving him a wink and a smile. "Of course!" Zatanna enthuses.

…she was glad that that had worked at all, privately. Of course, it would have been a bit awkward if it didn't. Ahem-hem.

It was a magic wand that she twirls then, kinda… casting her eyes to and fro as she follows along after the others, her eyes tracking towards Kate and Bunker both, "Hi, um… by the way. I'm ~Zatanna Zatara~, the mistress of magic~" she says, her voice lilting with a little bit of excitement. Even if she was hissing her whispering. Dipping to the side, Zatanna kinda picks up a bit of rubble as they go along, kinda… tossing the stone up into the air as if to test its heft, the palm-sized debris held in her other hand. "…so I know we found Phobos and all," she whispers, her eyes darting to and fro, "…and he is here, but… what are we up against exactly?"


Bunker smiles to Zatanna as she introduces herself. "Cool; it's great to meet you." he says with a flash of eyebrows at the pretty chica. Then he forms up a floating platform of glowing purple bricks, because subtlety is his middle name, and floats up a bit to get an overview of the area - some twenty feet up - and then descends. The various bodies upset him, obviously, but he narrows his dark eyes behind his mask when he sees the particular means of their deaths. "Madre," he mutters, crossing himself as he looks over the carnage for any clues he might find. "I do not know Phobos, but I would guess… he has fear powers? Did he do this?" he says, swallowing the bile welling up. Good thing it's been hours since he ate.

He nods to Vorpal and several small bricks break off from the main mass under him to float up and among his teammates, ready to expand on notice.


As they move past the museum, that small gift shop to the side looks as if it has seen better days. The windows are shattered and a corpse is hanging half in and half out of a display window. The interior is shattered and the floor is covered with broken glass and pieces of snowglobes. There's still the steady drip-drip-drip of the broken boxes spilling out their liquid contents to the ground, apparently soda syrup meant for the snackbar.

But then with movement further afield the line of sight becomes clear, and the remains of the lighthouse can be seen. It looks as if it fell partially to the side and over the lip of the cliff, bricks and mortar and concrete are scattered all over the burnt grass and the concrete walkways. Yet the base of it has the most debris, and it's from that mass of rubble that the smoke drifts upwards. It's an oily sickening curl of dark that drifts upwards, obscuring the silhouette of the figure seated there amongst the remnants of the chaos.

The wind picks up, the smoke parts, and from afar they can see that slender figure with the alabaster skin. That shock of blonde hair and that dancer's physique make it clear that this man seated upon the fallen bricks amongst a myriad of bodies and looking off towards the ocean is none other than Alexander himself.
Across his lap is scabbard and drawn blade, crimson and gleaming. He is bare of chest, spattered with burn marks, grime and gore. Then there's a slight tilt of his head as he turns his gaze to the side, as if hearing them.


Kate Bishop crouches by one of the corpses, carefully looking on the body for ID or any clues as to what organization they might belong to. "Hawkeye," she replies to Zatanna's introduction, looking up with the faintest hint of a smile. It's business time, though. "And these guys are good, whoever they are. And black ops, for sure. There's no ID on this guy, and…" She puts down her bow to quickly disassemble the man's gun. "No serial numbers. These aren't the sort of guys who usually go crazy out of fear. But I guess it could be done?"


Gar sniffs the air trying to get past the smoke and the stink of fear and death. Something out there isn't dead, and it smells a little like …. "Phobos is still here," he says. "Probably not dead."

He flips form shifting into a gull, and circles around to spot the Olympian … landing in front of him and resuming his human form, he looks at him from a safe distance.

"So what happened?"


"He better not have," Vorpal says to Bunker's question. "The Titans don't kill." Not if they have a choice about it, anyways.

However, give Miguel the price and close the fair, the godling sitting among the bodies and holding a blade that is at least ninety percent gore pretty much guives the purple wonder a tacit answer.

"Gods have been scaring people to death for years, Hawkeye." Vorpal tells Kate. The carnage… is there. Keith will probably have nightmare for weeks about this, but Vorpal, on the other hand, gets to drink from a deeper well. There are memories in him that are older than this: the dire cat that crossed over the piled bodies at Baden Hill. The bakaneko that observed the samurai that ambushed a traitor, who then comitted seppuku at the Ichiriki.

~You have seen this before. This does not affect you.~

The Cait has seen this before. But Keith hasn't. For the moment, though, he is filing this away, to be dealt with later after he steps out of the mirror. Because they may still be in mortal danger.

"Yes. What happened?" He echoes Gar's question while putting an arm around Miguel's shoulders.

Fine. So the Cait's suggestions are not that successful. He does feel sick. But he keeps his will focused. Can't focus on the horror, there's crucial stuff going down.


It was difficult to remain smiling admist all of this debris, destruction and gore.

Zatanna might have a better stomach for these sorts of things - being a paranormal investigator will do that to you, but… it still had an effect. The smile fades, and the edges to it sizzle, even if Zatanna only feels a twist to her belly as an extent of her revulsion.

Perhaps that strength is what causes Zatanna to step forward - her cute heels a little bit of a pain in this rubble-strewn street. Lifting her wand up in front of herself - she spies Gar leaping forward towards that man, her own features pinched in a look of almost-pain.

"Are you hurt? Are you the… Titan?" the uncertainty in her voice draws her eyes towards Gar with those words. "…we are looking for?"


Bunker spies the man with the sword, and watches his teammates. Nobody is screaming 'Get him!' so the purple-clad boy floats there and the various purple bricks drifting here and there grow still as he readies to form multiple sheilds for the others if needed. A trickle of sweat rolls down his boy's neck from his cowl, as he waits to see what the gore-spattered figure will do.


At the appearance of the others nearby, Alexander lifts his head as he looks between them. Those eyes of his meet first Gar's and then Vorpal's. It's clear he's been sitting there for some time, the rubble crackling and shifting as he slowly gains his feet. The ornate katana, Grasscutter, slides into its scabbard with a faint whisper and then a soft click. Glowing red eyes unfocus for a time as he looks past them, and then instead of answering he says low, "Is it time already?"

His torso is bloodied, reddish patches of skin across his torso mark the places where he had been wounded, shot… burnt. All healed for now, but still he looks past them. "I would have called." He finds Hawkeye amongst them, his gaze falling heavily upon her. "My phone is broken." And perhaps easy to understand why.


Kate pushes up as her search comes up empty, coming over to crouch next to Alex. "Yeah, well. I gave you an extra few minutes to find a pay phone," she replies with a brief flicker of a smile, an attempt at humor. "You're looking a little rough around the edges, Alex," she points out, holding out a hand. "You wanna maybe catch a ride home, rest up?"


"Where is Waller?" Gar asks casually. She wasn't among the corpses. He'll offer a hand as well. He's seen this kind of horror-show before, unfortunately, and it never gets any better. He'll have nightmares later though.


The smell is probably the worst. And if it's affecting him like this, with his damaged sense of smell (for that is where the Yellow Emperor marked him with the Indelible Brand to lock him away forever in the Heavenly Mirror), how much worse must it be for Garfield?

Sometimes a lie helped the horrible truth ease in better. While it would be outright disrespectful to create a scent of lilacs and other flowers to cover the smell of decomposition, it was not too much of a stretch to bring the smell of the shore and the water, erasing the scent of decay for at least as long as they are there. A soft haze covers the bodies, making them hazy in detail and lending an almost anonymous quality to their horror.

Sometimes it took the maddest of them all to preserve the sanity of others. Vorpal stands behind Gar, next to Miguel and Zatanna and Kate, focusing on the illusion.


Zatanna purses her lips, her eyes… flickering from Phobos to Kate, and then to the others. A pursing of her lips, and she takes a step away - letting the others take the lead for the time being - instead she lifts a hand to rest upon Vorpal's shoulders, and gives it a little bit of a squeeze.
Bunker licks his lips slowly, waiting to see if Alex is going to go all Hitchockian on them, but the reactions of his fellows calms him somewhat. He's still alert for danger from somewhere but maybe not directly from Alex.


The long blade is slung over his shoulder and at the offered hands he furrows his brow for a moment then waves them off as he steps down towards them. His attention shifts to each in turn, faces he knows, some he barely does, one he does not. His jaw sets, tendons bunching for a moment as his brows remain knit together. He looks towards, then motions towards the debris. "If she is not under there… then she escaped."

He starts to walk away from the debris there, away from the hand reaching out of the rubble, away from those nearby corpses. Still with that look of concentration. "I came here to try and reach some resolution." His voice is sharp, severe. "I even tried to reason with them." He shakes his head, disgusted as a hint of anger enters his voice. "They thought to take me captive, to _poison_ me." A faint growl enters his voice. He stops in mid-stride to look back at them, glowing red eyes flashing with a primal wildness that hovers on the edge of his countenance. There's a short sharp shake of his head as he scowls. "They spoke to me of their intentions, and had the gall to laugh."


"I wouldn't put money on finding her," Kate shakes her head. "Snakes and roaches, y'know?" Straightening, she pushes a hand through her hair to get another look at the scene. "Whatever's going on, though? It seems like it's big. You're not the only one she's targeting. But seeing this?" She turns a slow circle. "I can see why she might want to bring you in. She seems like the sort of person who'd be all too interested in using your talents."


Gar looks at Kate. "You can probably get back to your hotel room if you go the way we came, I think the Street is still around the corner."

Yeah, because Danny wanted to know how things came out. He's a major avenue of gossip.

"I'll handle the SRD report," Gar says. "For what it's worth. They might send someone to ask you what happened. If you can avoid taking them out, we'll probably have an easier time of things."

Yeah, when Robin wasn't around, Gar ended up doing the reports to the pre-SRD… so he knows the forms. Red. Tape. So much red tape. He glumly starts taking pictures with his phone for the report.


"Multiple targets?" the Cheshire looks at Kate. What on earth was going on, "How many fingers are in her goddamned pie? Is she never satisfied?"
He reaches up and squeezes Zee's hand back, in thanks. His other hand is for Gar, in case he needs it.

"I could say 'I told you so' about trying to reason with the Wicked Bitch of the West, but I'm more interested in what her intentions were. Trying to turn you into a weapon for her is a no-brainer, but was there more?" He looks around the blurred massacre. "After this…" he trails off and looks at Gar taking pictures. "Someone with a big ego like her, she's not going to let this stand, a defeat like this will leave her smarting. She'll come for us. We'll probably need to bring the tower down… maybe even leave a boobytrapped decoy behind, and find… somewhere else. Somewhere less obvious that she doesn't know of." He sounds remarkably calm saying this, it's not so much an emotional reaction as a conclusion reached from available evidence and observation. The hubris of the woman was colossal, he was surprised she did not violate the conventions of time and space in order to cram so much into her.

Maybe he would try that sleeping in trees thing that Gar does. He certainly cannot stay in Gar's dorm, and he can't take advantage of the shelters where he might be spotted. An interesting problem, he'll think about it later.

And the question in Keith's mind is: What is Roy going to do with this information? Is he really still Gar and Flash's friend, or is he a man of the Wall?


"This was done by Amanda Waller?" asks Zatanna, glancing from person to person, her eyes settling on Bunker. "The same person that destroyed the tower the first time?" she asks, kinda… wetting her painted lips with her tongue nervously. "What is her problem with us, seriously?!" she exclaims, breathing out as if deflating.


Bunker nods slowly as he looks at the misty areas around him, masked eyes then going to his teammates. "Well, I've never been on the run before. This should be fun," he says, not smiling at all.


It would perhaps be easy in some way, to just stay silent, to let it pass. But Alexander might not remember exactly what happened, yet the evidence is clear, and he remembers enough of it. He looks over towards Zatanna and tells her levelly. "No. I did this." He lifts a hand as if to gesture in some direction and say something else, offer some explanation. But no. Perhaps it is pride that holds his tongue in some manner, or some other aspect of his psyche. Whatever it is, however, he gives no indication.

Then, that having been said he turns away and starts walking towards the roadway, past the damaged and over-turned SUVs. He lifts his voice and says simply, "I need to get back…" There's a pause then he adds, "I have class in the morning." A strange thing to say, but then again at such times… it is the familiar that some hold on to.

From afar, Alexander Aaron nodders, "Bare bones 56 operatives, two platoons, more than could fit into the vans. equipment like kate said, no serial numbers, etc ec. Though some of the vid recorders have sdhc cards that could possibly be decryptedz


Alexander's reply dispels whatever strands of hope Vorpal had left. Gar is taking pictures… and he had been shooting video, including Alexander's admission. The Cheshire cat rubs his forehead as Alexander walks away, and then looks at Bunker, Zatanna, Kate, and then at Gar.

"We are so screwed."

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