The rumors were out there. The signs were available. However it was only seen by those who knew what to look for. A symbol here. An illogical conversation there. It would take months for any local authorities to be able to decipher the cryptic messages and by the time they did, the cypher would be replaced by yet another kind of codex and thus knocking everyone back to square one. Even the X-Men, for all their brilliance and showboating in the pursuit of justice, had not been able to catch onto the movements of the Treacherous Triad in time.

And tonight was the night.

Sly Fox, Deep Blue, and Swift Gold, three up-and-coming mutant criminals had devised a plan. They would be establishing a foothold in New York City, the mecca of all mutant activity. And their means of doing so was quite brilliant. For weeks now their most trustworthy associates have been moving through the streets, looking for anyone and everyone who would help expand their budding empire.

One by one they set roots in the streets and alleyways. Avoiding the careful eye of the already established criminal Syndicate, slipping past the view of the X-Men and the police, the seeds were planted and began to germinate. All they needed now was one more ingredient to make the process complete: inventory.

Sly Red, the smartest and most cunning of the trio, had managed to use connections through Deep Blue to get their hands on some high grade weaponry. With Swift Gold, his talents were able to procure them a rather large stock of narcotics to start buying their way into the heart of the city. Everything was going according to his plan.

“Good,” Sly Red grinned as he looked at the map of New York. “We’re all set. Deep Blue,” he said as he pointed to a dark-skinned woman with a shaved head. “You and your aquatic friends will guard the shipments coming in via the harbor.”

Deep Blue nodded, holding up a hand and causing a swirl of spikey water to swirl. “Not a problem. Ain’t no one coming near ‘em.”

Sly Red nodded. He then turned to Swift Gold, a man with copper skin and gold eagle feathers sprouting from his shoulders, extended outward into wings along his back. “Gold. We set?”

“Hmph. As if there was doubt,” he grumbled. “I’ll be escorting the drones personally. Shipments will hit their spots with no issue. Guarantee.”

Red smirked. “Good. And I’ll be bringing in the last shipment through a series of unmarked vehicles to their designated points. By this time tomorrow…” The redheaded fox grinned, looking between each of them, “...New York won’t know of hit ‘em.”

***

Niko Kobayashi had followed the breadcrumbs. Those little hints of information that let her know something big was happening tonight. Her centuries of hunting the Man of Shadows had given her a clue into the mindset of her target, and all those who committed such acts of evil. Years of dispensing justice had allowed her a certain foresight when it came to understanding the signs whenever something big was going to happen, and Niko had managed to catch them just in time.

A move was being made on New York City. A new criminal organization known as the Treacherous Triad (horrible name) was supposedly cementing their foothold in New York. Sadly that was where her intel had ended. All she knew was that they were coming into the city with shipments but what and how, she was unsure. She had an idea that it wouldn’t be anything good and she would find out the rest as she proceeded.

Standing in the shadows of a dark alley, the red plated armor of the Bloody Samurai stood in waiting. Hand already resting on the hilt of her sword, she peered through the demonic facemask and waited for any signs of what was to come. Her intel had informed her that in this street closest to the docks, that one of the lower level thugs was supposed to be in this area.

He would have the information she wanted -- and she would extract it from him by any means necessary.

However, as Niko lay in wait, her muscles tense, the armor silent, she heard the sound of another approaching. But it wasn’t for the correct location. It was from somewhere behind her. With a deep, slow breath, Niko waited for another moment before she moved with speed that seemed unlikely in her armor. The red samurai whipped around, drawing her blade and pointed it firmly at the one who attempted to approach her.

"What the f%^k?! We said matching costumes! I'm here is goddam gangster chic and you show up in a hoodie and flip flops?!" Yes. L was dressed as a modern mobster. Yes. She had invited Juniper with the idea that they would be dressing up together. Yes, she was sporting a golden grill. Custom made. Above the grill, a black fedora, below? A custom cut pinstripe suit that was sharp as @#$%.

And here she was, standing next to her hired help... who looked like she was about to Binge and simmer. Awesome. "Well, at least I'll look like a badass next to you."

Haven had many connections. She, had lots of money. A combination of the two had let her know that some criminals were moving into town that weren't about to pay any union dues. While Haven typically stayed out of mutant crime's way, this would shake things up a little too much, and might stir some trouble between the 5-0 and her kind. They couldn't have that.

So, L showed up. She'd made a reputation for herself as someone who got things done for Haven. Also, she brought Juniper along... Because... Well, Juniper had actually done most of the work half of the time L had gotten things done for Haven. As far as the heiress was concerned, this would be the same.

"I'm taking off fifty bucks for the clothing fauxpa." And look at that, she was already saving money. "At least try to look a little thuggish... I dunno, leer at people. Now c'mon... They're supposed to be up the street in the shipping district. Just have to get some proof of what they are doing, and skidadle. That way the police take care of it."

The pimped out 12 year old popped her bubblegum, and started wandering into the day alley, hands tucked into her coat pockets. A bulge in either side of the coat would inform a clever eye that she was strapped. Had to be prepared for anything, right?

Apparently, because an actual f#$king Samurai was waiting to ambush them in the alley. "@#$%!" A blade was drawn, and the little gangster stood there, a surprised look on her face. Had... they already run into a goon? Out came her two long clipped Intratek Scorpions. The .22 long rifle rounds didn't pack much of a punch, but could still be lethal. Devoid of any real fight or flight reflex due to her mutation, the little girl smiled, showing off her golden grill, and tried to be as intimidating at possible.

"Do you feel lucky, punk? Well... Do ya?" Yes, a movie line was the only thing that came to mind in the moment. It would have to do. She didn't look back to Juniper, sort of hoping the hoodie sporting 20 something would back her up.

She did not look at all happy to be getting the third degree from a glorified toddler in a pantsuit. "Look, you made the suggestion, and I never agreed to it fully." Suits like the one L had bought and had shipped to her apartment just looked... uncomfortable. Sweats and a Hoodie were much more her styles.

"I wore the dumb grill, so will you lay off a bit? See?" She stretched her lips back to show off the gold plated tooth covering that had also been in her costume box. Honestly, the grill she didn't mind so much. Kinda liked it, even.

The short Blonde threatened to knock off 50 bucks from what was already a rip off the price and Juniper stopped in her tracks with her hands in her pockets. "Wait, whaaat? Oh no, that ain't gonna fly. Either I get the whole 150 or I walk and you can do this yourself." She turned, nose already up in the air, and stuffed her hands in her pockets. "See? Here I go! This is me leaving! Byyye-"

L swore, Juniper heard her draw her little guns, and Juniper paused.

... She gradually turned her head back around enough to see, and when she did see she backpedaled even further. "Oh wow! That is a pretty cool get up. Is that like, Shotgun Shogun... Xavier showed me a comic with him in it once. Though... he actually ha a shotgun that he called a sword and not a real sword."

She was tempted to reach out and poke the end of the blade to see if it was real, but reeled herself back in and focused on the trigger happy Blonde who had dragged her here.

Without much care for how the small girl felt about it, Juniper grabbed her by both arms gently, phased her entirely and picked her up.

"Woooah, their Bessie. Let's not get trigger happy when we're only here for info."

She was not prepared for an all-out war tonight, after all. She'd come out in flip-flops!

"So, uh... you one of the big bads or whatever?"

Years ago, Elliott had picked a fight with the Triad. Or maybe it had been the Yakuza? He had tried to blow up their headquarters. Well. The place they met. Look. It might have been their headquarters. He had been young and stupid. Part of an evil organization he wished he could just sweep under the carpet and forget.

He had ultimately tried to organize chaos. Tried to leash the unleashable, in order to focus them on doing good. Because what is more chaotic than a group of bad guys taking out bad guys and helping out the little guy? Well. He had unleashed them alright. All over a warehouse floor. It had been messy. And had nothing to do with this situation other than the fact he had thought of it when he’d heard something about the triad while investigating some recent crimes in the area. Bit of an embarrassing background. To remind people he wasn’t always a really cool guy. And didn’t always succeed when he tried to be helpful.

He’d never really had anything happen due to the Triad situation. Other than fighting a bunch of ninja with a guy who could walk on ceilings, back before he had been capable of walking on ceilings. If only Max could have seen him now. Striding down the side of a building to investigate something funky.

He hadn’t really gotten most of the crumbs others may have followed to lead him to the triad. He’d heard tell of some group calling themselves a triad something. He’d noted maybe some people trying to consolidate something. Power. The crimes he’d been following at the time may or may not have been connected. Look. We already established Elliott was not the best at the things he attempted to do most of the time. He tried o hard! But he was not a detective. So how had he tracked people down to a big meet up event? Good. Question.

Elliott had. Followed. People. Who had followed the breadcrumbs. And mostly he’d gotten some dumb luck.

Someone had centuries of hunting someone under their belt. But they apparently did not have centuries of blending in.

Red armor. Very obvious. Very gripping. Demonic face mask. Very scary. Very intimidating. And a katana. A freaking samurai sword. Very... intimate? Elliott didn’t know. All he knew was that he’d caught sight her someone in red armor with a demonic face plate heading cautiously in the direction of the docks. The direction one of the few crumbs he’d actually found had pointed him to. And she. Looked. AWESOME! Also shifty, scary, intimidating, and suspicious as F. He had followed HER.

Clearly, a scary samurai swords person would know where the big booty B*%*%es be at, to use a phrase that nobody uses anymore. Don’t judge, please. He was a little put off by the sheer terror of stalking someone in a mask.

For comparison, his costume had no sword or mask. He wore blue jeans, and an intricate set of armored shin guards that covered parts of his feet to maintain warmth, while exposing other parts to allow him to grip the walls. One could see green skin under the Kevlar plating and black, if they looked hard. Ultimately, it looked like really crappy geta with soccer grade shin guards. Geta missing the soles. He wore a black shirt and a black leather jacket and black fingerless gloves, that left the fingertips of his green three-fingered hands exposed. And he wore a black helmet with a sneering alien mouth with a jagged toothsome smile and a dangling long tongue painted on it. Dark-tinted visor, painted like white alien eyes. Slits for nose. Something terrifying, this way, come. He had not worn this helmet for a while. Usually, he wore a green alien face helmet with a macabre smile. But it was mainly black and he wore black and he wanted to blend in. So. So there.

He followed the red armored woman, hoping to see something of note. He did.

She drew a blade on a little girl dressed in a mobster outfit. Yeah. She was scary. The red woman. Not the young woman. He watched the whole scene from his perch about thirty feet above them, crouching on the alley wall. So he was in a good location to see the young woman draw her weapons.

Guns. The young woman had guns. Elliott reevaluated. Maybe the young woman was actually just a very short person. A little person, if he were being politically correct. Right? The alley was kind of dark, so... she could have been anywhere from a little person to a very short person. He reserved judgement until he knew more. Though he did arch a hairless eyebrow beneath the helmet.

There was also another person next to the young woman. In a hoodie and sweats? Huh? Man this alley was beginning to grow crowded.

He watched the hoodie woman drag the monster kinder with the blonde hair up, bodily. And tilted his head. Which, crouched at the angle he was at, stationed on the wall he was on, put his head at a normal angle parallel to the ground.

This looked to be getting sticky. Well. Best he could do to break up a nasty situation was paint a target on himself to draw attention away from the two haphazardly dressed people, onto himself, an even more haphazardly dressed vigilante. And draw the attention of the potentially murderous red armored person. Wow. Those were some long drawn out sentences.

He decided to make the mental narrative easy from here on out.

Elliott, AKA, Cheshire, started walking down the wall. He walked completely upright, body straight and parallel to the ground. It took some core strength, but he had trained for just such an occasion! As he walked, Elliott spoke amiably. Casually. Using his careless tone to oversell his charm and courage. His charm and courage, which had retreated somewhere up inside his navel at some point during the little altercation downstairs.

“Heyyyy Red. Easy there. Easy.” Elliott said, strolling down the wall. “Take it easy. No need to hurt them. What’s with the drama anyways? Been following you for, what, twenty minutes? Half an hour? You seem on... edge.”

He landed on the floor of the alley, about 10-15 feet behind her on the word ‘edge.’ And purposefully did not stare nervously at the finely honed killing weapon in her hands.

“Where’s the fire?” He added. “To get you this jumpy. Almost as if you were worried you were being followed. Gee I hope you’re one of the nice vigilantes or this whole bit of banter I’ve got going on will go down like the Hindenburg and boy won’t my big dumb smile make me look stupid?”

He prepared himself to jump away if she so much as moved funny. Jump away, and back onto the wall.

The concept of working alone was more a principal than practically possible. The Crystal Witch did not work alongside a team like the X-Men, not that they would enjoy working with her or her methods. That did not mean she could get everything done independently. Keeping informants was important. Beating information out of thugs was also, in its own way, a collaborative exercise, but it paid to have a few criminals willing to talk to you out of their own best interest.

The point was, even when working alone, the Witch still had to recognize the use of others as a resource.

Criminals clearly understood the need for cooperation. For such selfish creatures, they loved “organizing.” She heard the rumors of a Network of criminals, but the suppose Syndicate was not the only game in town, as hard as it tried. There was always a criminal startup. Enter: The Treacherous Triad.

What a lame fucking name.

Despite having pleasant discussions around the underworld of New York, no one could tell her what this Triad was shipping into the city. Given she was hearing multiple points of entry, these shipments were worth investigating. Popular answers were usually weapons, drugs, or people, and Ez was not looking to see an influx of those three as commodities on her streets.

To investigate, a good vigilante should study the area and determine the best point to assess the situation. Apparently, CW was not the only good vigilante out and about, because the rooftop she wind-jumped toward stood over an alley with a collection of… unique characters? A samurai, a mobster, a young woman in sweats, and a helmeted man. Things seemed tense from above, though no one was attacking.

No one neatly fit what she was expecting from the Triad heads or their potential lackeys, so she could consider her curiosity piqued. She had Garnet, Black Tourmaline, and Peridot sitting in her stomach, ideal for a fight if it came to it. Feeling proactive and confident, the vigilante jumped from the roof.

Burning her Peridot, the wind swirled around her and under her feet, slowing her descent and creating a cushion of air, kicking up dust in the alley with her nearby landing. The moment she touched down, she switched to burning her tourmaline, hardening a stone-like outer layer in case the gunwomen decided to do anything crazy. ”I’m going on the limb that three of y’all aren’t The Triad. Not group cosplay either; everyone’s clashing. I can only assume I missed an invitation for something exciting. Are you here for good trouble? Or bad trouble?” CW was ready to burn her Garnet or reach for her sidearms if she did not like the answers she got.

As had been noticed by all, My Little Oni was swinging her sword in the alley.

Almost all also noticed Gangster Girl with the big ol’ guns. They also noticed Casual Chick, her petulant sidekick.

Most noticed Spring-Heeled Black walking down walls and jumping into position.

Some probably noticed Lady Windbag touching down.

But nobody had noticed the dumpster.

Lately Zek had been experimenting with different storage options. He always kept his well-armed and well-stocked duffle bag in one of his dimensions. But there were limits to what a bag could hold. His hammock did great in there, but as the zombie invasion had taught him (And this was the only lesson he’d learned from all that otherwise uneventful afternoon), napping in a hammock made him too approachable and easily disturbed by lots of noisy people. W

Now, when he’d been working with his storage shed, he’d had better results. He’d stuffed it with pillows and blankets and incense and stuff and had had a delightful little siesta. But it wasn’t always convenient keeping that shed around, since it took a lot out of him to absorb each time. And he didn’t have any more auditions lined up at the moment so he wanted to keep that all in one piece and not for everyday use.

So he was looking for an option that was juuuuust right. Big enough to give him space for sleepy stuff in case he was out and about and wanted a nap, but not too big the storage container would attract people or do more than make him stumble a bit or get momentarily dizzy.

And he’d found it.

It wasn’t old, it was quite new.

It was borrowed (forever now), and it was very, very blue.

He’d found it last week by the side of the road of all places, still shiny looking like it hadn’t even been used! Yet someone had still kicked it to the curb. Well, Zek’s heart had broken when he saw that so he resolved to give the dumpster a better home. His home. Well, sometimes. Sometimes it stayed in a side alley or on a rooftop or in his living room. Or wherever he happened to be, when it wasn’t sitting contentedly in timelessness inside his pocket voids.

And what had sealed the deal for Zek, why he hadn’t given his dumpster away, was because he had realized it was the perfect size for him to put some shelves in, a crate, a mini cooler, and still have room for an inflatable mattress and pillows and blankets. It was a little tight, sure, but it was cozy!

And up until a few minutes ago, it had been quiet, too.

But now it was surrounded by noisy, chattering people, the sounds of swords cutting the air, thumps of folks leaping off alley walls (or so he assumed), threats of violence, and what sounded a lot like a baby tornado touching down.

Zek huffed and fumed. A golden light appeared in one hand and in his other he snagged the bag of cheese puffs he’d been eating before his nap. He ground one to bits between his teeth before the light winked out.

He pulled his feet underneath him, clutched the bag of cheese puffs tightly, and shot straight up, making the plastic roof of his home away from home slam against the brick wall behind it with a loud PLAT, and he shouted, “WOULD YOU ALL JUST SHUDDUP!”

And then he blinked.

“Oh hey June!” he smiled. “Long time no see. Want a cheese puff?” he extended the bag in her direction and--

“Oh hashtag percent symbol exclamation mark exclamation mark no!” he said, staring in outrage at what was currently in Juniper’s arms.

He summoned a ball of light to illuminate the fact that he was sporting a golden grill. Custom made. Above the grill, a black fedora, below? A custom cut pinstripe suit that was sharp as @#$%.

“I was here first! You gotta go home and change!” he roared at L.

A sliver of silver cut through the night air, singing a humming song before it came to a stop. Pointed straight ahead, the blade itself narrowed it’s focus on the face of a young blonde girl, not the target it was expecting, but eager to draw blood nonetheless. When guns were aimed in retaliation, a tension quivered through the sword, readying to go on the offensive and cut down the owner before it was too late. But, as it would appear, there was more yet to come.

And in this case “more” means more people.

Niko was unsure of what to think. Still her sword was held, unwavering as she watched a hoodie-wearing blonde pick up the angry, gun-toting toddler, and hold her off to the side. She peered closed at Niko’s sword, marveling at it but seemingly unbothered by the threat. Were they part of the triad? As stupid as their name was, these two blondes hardly seemed like criminal masterminds.

”Who ar--?” But she couldn’t finish her question.

Casual footsteps coming from the wall drew her attention, slowly. Peering out from behind the demonic mask, her eyes gleamed briefly in the limited light as an alien-mask wearing individual literally walked down the wall towards them. He addressed her casually, referring to her as “Red” before he leapt a few feet away, landing with an acrobat’s skill at his feet.

And then he said it. Vigilantes. It didn’t seem as if he were working for the triad either, or even one of the local gangs. What on earth was going on here? Did every self-proclaimed vigilante in the area just decide to show u--

Interrupted. Again. This time a woman rode in on a gust of wind and landed with the crowd. She surmised that none of them were part of the Triad and guessed that this was a mistaking gathered group of some kind. She sighed. There was a reason she worked alone as all this was getting far too complicated.

”No…” she said. She looked at the woman before shifting her attention back to the alien and the two blondes. ”...I’m not Triad.” It didn’t seem that the rest of them were either. Annoying, maybe, but these weren’t criminals, no matter how mob-like the youngest dressed. She gestured to the blonde as she peered at her from behind her mask. ”You make it a habit of handing your kid firearms?” she asked.

A loud knock came from a nearby dumpster. She turned, drawing her sword again -- and once again found herself looking at an oddity. A young man popped out from the inside, seemingly confused as to what was going on -- and then started to shout at the toddler.

Niko’s eyebrow…rose. She then grumbled

”Everyone needs to settle down,” she growled. ”Listen, I don’t know if you all are here for the same reason, but there’s intel of a major criminal event about to happen that needs to be stopped.” Once more her sword was sheathed as she deemed those gathered to no longer be dangerous. ”If you do not want to be involved, I suggest you leave now. Things will get ugly quite fast.”

Oh, good, they weren't part of whatever it was L had dragged her out here to figure out, or so they said at least. Totally believable, right?

....Or was that just what a villain would say?!

Not that she cared much right now. Maybe she'd ask Xavier later.

Both perfectly fleek brows rose at the insinuation that L was her child, and... no, you know what? She was gonna run with it. "Usually. She likes to play with them in parks, especially when all of her knives and the chainsaw are being cleaned."

And then, like a demon, none other than Zek popped out of a garbage can and yelled at all of them. Juniper acted on slightly delayed instinct and chucked L at him like a fast-pitch baseball. She only realized who it was a moment later after L had already left her hands.

"...oh... uh." Coughing into a fist and clearing her throat, she just went on to ignore it. Nothing to see here. Just a young mother throwing her even younger-but-still-old daughter in a dumpster with a strange man. "Oh Hey, Zek."

Oh, right, there were other people here too.

"Howdy, y'all. Let's do the good and kick some triangle butt." She hadn't been paying attention to literally anything the rest of them had been saying.

A lot happened. Quick. In chronological order, it played out as follows: L and Tater argues. "LOLSURE Is an agreement! I have proof on my phone!, and the grill is not dumb... It's... Well, it looks dumb on you, but I look like a goddam boss!" Banter further ensued. "Fine, but you're killing me, here." Not really. $150 was a lost eyelash to her. Juniper argued on, but there were more pressing concerns.

There was a full on Samurai standing before them, weapon drawn. L was about to get ratchet on her, but Juniper... lifted her up. "...Tater... I will find a way to cut you." Her little legs kicked about a bit as she shruggled, but then gave up quickly. Too much was going on. For one, L noticed a motorcylist with shin guards on trekking down the wall. Okay, sure. Why not? It wasn't like things could get any less strange.

Case in point. An oddly familiar woman dirfted down from on high. Woah, look at those cakes! In comparson, her's were flan. You know, not as fluffy and pretty much jelly. She hated and wanted to be her immediately. Oh, the Samurai spoke up... and... it was a woman? Woah, okay, wait though, she called L Juniper's child? "What did you just-" Juniper played along. "I hate you." Why did it have to be said by the person who had actually seen her knife and chainsaw collection?


Well, if the whole crew was here, she could remind the apparently shocked Juniper to set her down, and- The dumpster next to them suddenly shifted, and the lid burst open to reveal...

HIM.

And he was dressed like she was! Holy serendipity, Owlbearman. She had a matching partner after all! He told her to change. Her eyes widened. Her fists clenched. She opened her mouth to speak! She was yeeted at him. "Oh Motherf-

CLLLLAAAAANG. She stuck there for a flash of a moment, her twin scorpions flinging up into the air, and clattering to the ground as gravity took over, and she fell from her spot on the bottom of the lid with a tinny thud. It was silent for a moment, before she resurfaced with a burrito in her hand. "He's got snacks."

She tucked the burrito into her tumtum, looked over to Zek. She... couldn't be mad at him. At the end of their last encounter with each other, she'd just decided he was some sort of strange cryptid, and thus was in no way responsible for his own actions. Instead, she opted to enjoy the moment. "Tater, I was saving these for you, but since you didn't come dressed to code-" She flicked out two pairs of black shades, both bejeweled enough to be princessy, but not so much that they were no longer classy. She popped one pair on to complete her Glamster look, and held the others out toward Zek.

The Samurai spoke once more, saying stuff she mostly already knew. Wait, stop them? Nooo, they were just gathering evidence- Juniper chimed in, agreeing to get involved. Gears started turning. Wait... If she could get all of these bafoons to actually stop the Triad, put them in the ground... She could take all of he credit for it back at HQ, and maybe Senpai would notice her again, and- "Yeah, what Taterthot said about the triangles. I #$^kin hate shapes. Let's bust these bitches."

Just when he thought there couldn’t be more people, another arrived in a whoosh of air. God dammit.

She asked if they were here for good reasons, or trouble. And samurai said something. Elliott caught ‘not triad’ and ‘firearms’ before his attention was snatched up by the sound of plastic slapping against brick. Windy woman’s question ringing in his ears, he turned to stare at the disturbance.

As if in cue, a raving lunatic sprang from the nearby dumpster and told them all to get off his lawn or something.

“We’re here for a good time, not a long time...” Elliott sang. It was the first thing to pop into his head . Crazy person, screaming at a bunch of costumed loonies? Dumpster diving in the bad part of town. Had he found those puffs in there? That hardly seemed sanitary.

Sanitary and sanitarium sound similar. The guy was wearing the same thing as mob girl, and Elliott felt... he really felt that at least one person here would be better off in a sanitarium. Maybe it was him. But the whole world seemed crazy. So maybe not? At least Red the Ref was trying to sort it out, and had not tried to kill him, so... progress. Probably. She was growling an awful lot. Hadn’t he been the first to suggest settling down?

She stole my lines...

Well. He could live with that. And her sword being sheathed of course.

He tilted his head towards the sky, as if expecting more people. None came. Okay good. Then, he glanced to hoodie blonde girl, who was saying something. And— hey! He thought he knew her! Had dumpster guy said— June?

And yes, he knew him, too. They were... he searched his memory. The girl liked... butts. And mobster the grouch was... montezuma... no, Zek. And— had Juniper thrown the mob girls scrawny ass at Zek? Because she was up in the dumpster with him, now.

You know, there’s only so much one can see while wearing a motorcycle helmet with a tinted visor. Really limits perception. He must’ve missed the girl getting chucked, what with tens of other things going down. Or up. Or over.

And when had Zek gotten shades? Shit. Too much too fast. Was it his turn to react and be outrageous yet?

Juniper had said something, then Tiny with the flan shades. Now... yup. By his math, he was up. Quick, something something—

Had Red woman said something about ugly? Elliott said “I know a thing or two about ugly. Wait.”

Yeah. There we go. Freaking perfection!

“This isn’t my first rodeo. I bombed a triad once before. I’m in. Also—“

He took a quick running leap, and tumbled through the air over Juniper into the dumpster with Zek and the girl. As he flipped, he tried a bit of verbal acrobatics as well. I’m juniper and I like butts,” he tried to say. What actually escaped his diaphragm, and what everybody heard, was —“butttttzzzzzz.” Thump. Ding.

He stuck the landing, arms outstretched, in the dumpster next to the girl and Zek. Hey. Trying to talk and do flips n shit simultaneously is hard. This was no comic book. He was lucky he hadn’t landed on his face.

Elliott was right next to the little girl and it would be absolutely rude to ignore her when he’d just done a flip and landed a foot or so away, so he glanced at her.

“Are you functionally immortal or did you stick the landing too? Either way, nice.”

Then, he spun towards Zek! Thrust out his hand! And demanded “Zek! Chocolate! Also, how’s the horse?”

Voice muffled by the smiling alien helmet, it wasn’t a sure thing Zek would even connect the one time at manhunt camp with him. And that was exactly what he wanted. Because it would. Drive. Him. Mad. Or, you know, he’d roll with it for laughs.

There. Was that outrageous enough, people? Had he done good?

The whole Cheshire persona was all about looking ridiculous and smiling about it, so people might underestimate the man behind the mask. Kind of like how he’d thought Zek was, once upon a time. So hamming it up was just part of the act.

CW was not expecting some dumpster man to interject in an already overcrowded situation, but she knew enough about New York to expect weird. She wanted to say shit like this did not happen in Texas, but her parents were cosponsoring a secret mutant trafficking ring, so apparently every place had its unexpected surprises.

Looking over the odds and ends gathered in the alley, at least the samurai confirmed what CW assumed; at least some of them were here for the Triad. ”Why would I leave? I got all dressed up for this.”

It was not like the Witch had ever been the only self-titled vigilante in New York. Even ignoring the X-Men, plenty of people fancied themselves crime fighters—usually mutants. Wannabe heroes to varying degrees of success. She would roll with this, though she did question how helpful it would be bringing a pre-teen along.

So far, it was hard to see any of this cast of characters helping to bust up the Triad. Too zany, too distracted. They screamed of chaotic energy, mostly having crossed paths before. She focused on the warmth in her stomach, keeping her positive when the dumpster clan plagued her with doubt. ”Goddess, give me strength,” she muttered.

At least one woman seemed to have her eyes on the path. Taking a step away from the chaotic energy of the dumpster, the Witch stepped toward the Samurai. ”So based on your intel, what’s the path here? How were you planning on getting in? We’ve got six bodies and some options.” Yes, that was how to view this positively. Options. Manifest good things. Do not question what you’re doing with your life in an alley with a child, a helmet head, a slacker and… whatever that last guy’s deal was.

Apparently L disagreed because she was suddenly flying right at his face!

“Ack!”

Zek ducked. Unnecessarily though. Because L landed beside him, on the other end of his air mattress. And she immediately found his burrito stash.

Zek stared at her for a very long second. Then he ate a cheese puff. Then he nodded, “Yeah, okay,” and put on the sunglasses. He crossed his arms and glared at everyone else.

Including the screwball who jumped over everything and LANDED IN HIS DUMPSTER! And it has the nerve to ask for chocolate! And to ask about Mister Ed, which was nice, but Zek didn’t want to focus on that because it would ruin the mood. UGH!

Zek stared coolly at the helmet person and his annoyance was masked behind his insanely awesome new sunglasses. “Yeah, okay,” he said in the exact same tone as before. This guy knew him or something. Zek didn’t care. He reached out and held a fist over the dude’s outstretched and greedy hand, but instead of placing chocolate in it, he made a golden ball appear and dropped it instead. The guy vanished and Zek smiled.

Then he made a dazzling scarlet light appear and chucked it way up into the sky and over and out of sight of the building that comprised the other end of the alley, where at some point it vanished with another flash of light and the idiot would be falling somewhere. And Zek could hardly care less.

Also, Juniper wasn’t getting any cheese puffs. He held the bag out to L instead.

He threw his only three cents into the mix as Windy Woah Homecoming Courier and Samurai Jill were making plans for something. “Yo, I’ll help you all out if it’ll get you out of my alley! And the ugly boat sailed like five centuries ago. Like seriously? Still with the samurai stuff? Sooo tacky. Don’t even get me started on your getup, Gusty,” Zek said up as he held up a compact mirror so he could better see the grill on his teeth. Oh my, he looked good!

There was...a lot happening. Niko didn’t know how all these people ended up here but it seemed, for the most part, like they were all here for the same reason:

The young mother and her child (who seemed nigh indestructible) wanted to kick ‘triangle butt’ and ‘bust these bitches’.

The alien motorcyclist apparently had history with the Triad (whether this one or another, she didn’t know) but was also extremely distracted by the dumpster diver.

Speaking of...the man in the dumpster, sporting similar attire to the other two blondes, apparently wanted in, so long as it got them out of his alley.

Really, the only person who seemed fairly competent was the cloaked woman with the unmistakable figure. She spoke the lingo and seemed to have a better focus when compared to the others. As he approached, Niko gave her a nod before she turned back to the others.

Six bodies. Options. That’s what they certainly had. Shifting her red armor, her face covered by the demon mask, she seemed to consider their options carefully. Her intel had hinted that one of the sources of shipments were coming through here. But she was still compiling the last bit of data she had received from her informant.

”Last intel I had said that a shipment was getting ready to come into New York through this harbor…” she said. Then, there was a ding. Pulling her burner phone from the leather pouch on her belt, she looked it over with her red eyes and continued. ”Also through the streets a few blocks down. So…” DING!. She shook her head and checked her phone again. She cursed in Japanese and slipped her phone back into her pouch. She took a moment before she related the news. ”And via drone down the block the other direction.”

Another silent curse fell. She was screwed. Her intention had been to stop them all of it from reaching the city but she had only received the harbor intel. Now that the rest of the encrypted data had been downloaded, the full plan had been revealed. They were making landfall on multiple fronts, to be cautious. There was no way she could hit them all on her own.

Her eyes drifted back to the cloaked woman and the rest of the motley crew. They weren’t alone. There was enough of them. If they could focus, they could actually pull this off. She hated trusting others but...so be it.

”Okay, here’s the deal,” she said addressing all of them. ”The Triad are delivering shipments in three separate ways: via the harbor here...a block over in a series of unmarked vans, and another block over in the opposite direct via drones. If we split into three groups, we should be able to stop all of them at once.” She looked between all of them. ”If you’re really here to stop them...we’re going to have to work together. Are you all willing to do this?” She asked. ”And if so...where do you want to go? Land, sea, or air?”

Here, we find the native Blue Tongued Skink in his natural habitat. In this case, his territory has been invaded by another snack pursuing predator. See how they share a tense moment; will they battle to the death, or decided to hunt together? The skink will decide. Another moment of staring, both predators ready to pounce... And then... Acceptance. The Skink has accepted the young one's offering. They will work together... this time. L smiled and posed with her glasses before the smiley guy decided to do stuff.

Mister wall walkie Mc.Motorcyle said some stuff, and then suddenly decided he was going to join the dumpster party. "Ohshi-" Thump! She stepped back against the metal wall of the dumpster, looking the man up and down as he landed like a gymnast. Wait, was that green skin? Huh. She looked over to Juniper quickly before turning back to him as he asked her a question. She puffed out her cheeks, and crossed her arms.

"Try indestructible."

The truly hot lady spoke up, asking about what the plan was. L sighed and leaned against the lip of the dumpster to listen as the green man was suddenly pokeballed. She listened to the description of things and stuff as she lazily reached out and grabbed some cheesy puffs as they were offered. "Sweet." They would have to sign him up for one of those by-mail monthly snack boxes... did those deliver to dumpsters?

L paused as they were asked which shipment people wanted to attack... Wait, they were splitting up? @#$^! She needed to find a partner. @#$^! No one was volunteering. Wait, which one would be the easiest? All of these people seemed strong, right? Three groups, six people? Pick one, and who ever comes with you can do all of the work. One sounded like it involved a car chase, soooo no. One was up in the air, which seemed like a huge hassle... nope. That left...

"Sea!" A nice boat ride sounded pleasant by comparison.

From his perspective, he was in one place one moment, and in another the next. And all because he’d touched that jerkwads hand.

Those goddamn balls. he’d forgotten. And the ass had used them on him?! Some people have no respect. That rat bastard. Because of him, he completely missed aaaaanything red woman had said. He was a little busy, fighting for his life.

Or, at least. He thought he would be.

Because Zek’s balls were timeless, he’d lacked the time to think those thoughts “in the moment.” So, he used his plethora of time spent falling to think the thoughts. Because one really cannot fight gravity. And as the thoughts blazed, he summed them up in a single word.

“Fuuuuuuuuuuuu—“

There was nothing to hold onto. Nowhere to go but down. Zek, that ^*##*# #^#}^% had thrown him clear over the harbor. He pin wheeled his arms, took a deep breath, then fell. Into the water.

Oh god it was awful. He was going to murder Zek. There was sludge, and stinky, and pollution... his jacket would be ruined. But, struggling, he made it back to the surface. He lame-ass doggie paddled to the nearest dock. He found a rope ladder, and hauled himself up. Got to the sanctity of the wooden dock planking. Dripped, and crossed his arms.

“HMPH!” His helmet may have been smiling, but him? He was not!

He stopped. Something funny was going on here. He looked up at the boat by the dock he’d climbed up onto. Made direct eye contact with a man in black lifting a crate. A man with a visible sidearm holstered at his waist. And another man, who pointed at him and shouted— twitch.

“CRAP!!!!!!”

He lobbed the fish that had found its way into his pocket all the way into thug 2’s hairy face. Effin Zek, that blue-tongued Cheeto Bandito. He was gonna make him pay.

The fish had been the funky thing, but these guys? There were pretty funky too. Soggily, he ran for the cover of a few nearby crates that had already been unloaded. And that was when the wild gunfire began.

((OOC sorry of this skips juniper. Wasn’t sure on the posting order. L can run into Elliott whenever she makes her way to the docks!))