((Continued from Responsible is Relative. Thread title courtesy of Cafas.))

Kaz and Ambrose had appeared 10ft above the floor in Kaz's warehouse, leaving them to deal with the fall on their own. Having been on his feet already and expecting it, Kaz had no trouble dealing with the sudden fall, landing with the ease and grace of a cat. As for Ambrose, well, there wasn't enough light to allow Kaz to see what happened to the man since his eyes hadn't adjusted in time.

If he had had more time, he would have picked somewhere else to go, but his warehouse was his home, a place he spent most of his time, so it was where he defaulted to. Even though the dim edge lighting spaced out along the floor and ceiling was barely bright enough to illuminate the immediate area around them, when his eyes adjusted, Kaz was able to see the room clearly in full detail.

The large open floor had a ceiling 40ft high, off in the distance various machines, weights, and other training equipment stood ready for use. Sparring arenas, gymnastic equipment, thick padded mats, and even an expansive and intense looking obstacle course spread out around them. There was no such thing as 'standard' equipment in the area, every bit of it was all custom made to withstand the punishment someone with Kaz's abilities could put them through. Though if Kaz had a mind to, he could wreck them all.

Towards the back of room a large freight elevator and a smaller, personal elevator had their outer cages shut with the as both lifts were currently at ground level, across from them on the opposite side of the room a somewhat large spiral staircase was clearly visible to Kaz's adjusted eyes.

Standing in a relaxed yet ready posture, Kaz watched Ambrose as the man got his barrings. ”Seems like you've calmed down a bit Rosie-boy.” With one raised brow, Kaz looked the man over, ”Panu and the others were getting a little uncomfortable, so a change of location seemed a good idea. Hope you don't object.” Not that it would matter if he did, it wouldn't do him any good now. Even though it hadn't been his idea to move the two of them, or that he hadn't had any control over it (he was going to have a word or two to say to those two), Kaz thought that this might cause Ambrose to reconsider his ideas about Kaz and his people.

”So, you willing to talk now?” Kaz took a more aggressive stance after a moment. The implication was clear, 'Or do I need to beat you again?'

Ambrose went from "on the floor" to "on nothing at all" in an instant, and there was no time where he'd been more appreciative of enhanced reflexes. Even so, it took him a moment to get past the instinctive reaction of "what" to even consider reacting, so while he did manage to land in a way that broke no bones, he had the wind knocked out of him, literally and figuratively. Figuratively because - well, that's how that expression was used, and literally because he realized too late that he did in fact have an injured shoulder, and that was what he'd landed on. He choked on air as he bit back what definitely would've been an embarrassing acknowledgement of pain, but even with that, he made much more of a sound than he'd intended.

Goddammit.

Ambrose winced and rolled over onto his back, taking a moment to just stare up at the - what.

He'd gathered that they, well, weren't in Kansas anymore, but that was a really tall ceiling, compared to Ambrose's small office. Ambrose turned his head towards his side, equally as surprised by what looked like a gym in the building's corner. No, not just a gym. On closer inspection, there seemed to be decidedly non-gym items like a sparring mat and an obstacle course. Ambrose suspected that the workout machines themselves were a little off, too, but he'd never been to the gym in his life, so he wouldn't know. (As it turned out, terrorizing the city a few times a week was more than enough of a workout.)

"Seems like you've calmed down a bit Rosie-boy," a voice said, and Ambrose resisted the urge to smash something. Because dammit, he'd been teleported into this creepily dark warehouse with Kaz, and now he suspected Kaz had something to do with it - okay, Kaz definitely had something to do with it. In fact, Ambrose was going to hazard a guess and say that this was the very warehouse Panu had broken into and started this whole mess with.

Well, full circle. Even in this situation, Ambrose could appreciate the slight irony.

”Panu and the others were getting a little uncomfortable, so a change of location seemed a good idea. Hope you don't object.” Ambrose gave an amused huff, even as he lay on his back trying to make his vision work properly again, because ow. Apparently, Kaz had his own teleporter. Well, that was fine by Ambrose - the immediate threat to Panu was removed, and Panu was still with Cail and Madeline, both of whom knew what to do in such a situation. If the threat persisted, they'd take Panu to an Adapted, which Panu would probably hate but would be the best option because Cail was equally formidable without his mutation as he was with it. (The man had been a soldier, after all.) What that meant was that Ambrose was free to exercise his right to lack self-preservation as much as he wanted. As Kaz spoke, Ambrose removed and tossed his contact lenses, and the room immediately cleared. Yes, maybe he was a bit more farsighted now, but the dimness of the room wasn't as bad of a problem and the thin haze of infrared - a remnant of his more animalistic side - made up for that.

”So, you willing to talk now?” Ambrose looked idly over at Kaz, who was taking a decidedly aggressive stance. Well, no one had ever told Ambrose that he was agreeable. Or consistent. And now that Kaz was not on top of him and crushing him, he didn't feel inclined to be either.

Ambrose tossed his underwear in the direction of Kaz's face. And then immediately was up - on all fours, admittedly - sprinting off towards the staircase that he'd seen on his cursory examination of the room.