Her nose wrinkled in distain, and she stomped after him. Fine.. she didn't need to know anyway. It wasn't like she planned on hopping onto the crazy train and joining him on his courageous escapades.

"Oh god... you're one of those guys.. fighting the good fight for love. ...Pfft, Please. How sappy." Crossing her arms, she blew a few strands of stray blonde hair from her eyes. "After what i've seen you do I thought you were different."

Seriously, what did love not ruin? "All that emotion does is weaken you... it makes you vulnerable."

"Oh god... you're one of those guys.. fighting the good fight for love. ...Pfft, Please. How sappy. After what i've seen you do I thought you were different. All that emotion does is weaken you... it makes you vulnerable."

Yeah, He'd had enough of that. His hand shot out to grab her roughly and pull her eye to eye with him, a look of uncontrollable rage on his face. The other hand wandered up to her temple.

"Yeah? Hows being an emotionless shell of a woman working for you? Feeling invulnerable right about now?" His eye caught something over her shoulder... a person? He released her, and felt a wave of dizziness as he tried to catch sight of what it was... All he saw by the time his eyes focused again was an empty alleyway entrance... Strange... Musta been nothing.

He turned toward his car, and began limping again. "You've never seen a man fight for something real before... you're just a stupid kid."

Momentarily caught off guard, she could do nothing more that stare at him in a startled fashion while he threatened her. When she was relesed, she tugged her sweater back into a comfortable position and glared at his back, her face red with anger. Who was he to call her a stupid kid?

Huffing, she shut her mouth and followed after, keeping a little more distance between herself and him.

The game had grown boring, so she was dropping it. He was no fun to poke at, and she was in no mood to deal with his a**hattery. Silently, she approached his car alongside him, and simply waited for him to hand her the suit so she could leave. Something down the street caught her attention though, she she stopped short.

There was an unsusual number of people wandering about, all heading in the same direction. Glancing at the costumed man, she decided whatever it was had to be more fun that hanging around with him. Without a word, she turned and started off toward the quiet gathering, wondering what was going on in this part of town to draw a crowd...

She shut up. Good. That was the idea. He mentally gave himself a harsh kick; he wasn't supposed to be using intimidation on innocent people like that... He really shouldn't have taken it that far. Still, having a bullet wound to help his mood along was a pretty good excuse.

They finally reached the car. The window was broken in. The suit was missing.

Holy... %@$*!

"No... f*@$in way."

He clenched his wound as he pulled away from the shattered driver-side window, looking to Megan, who was walking away from him...

"Really? Jesus christ..." He didn't have time for this! He had to get back to the mansion! With a quick hobble, he caught up to Megan, his wound complaining the whole way. "The armor is gone... someone took it. I don't even know where to start looki-" A man in plastic Judge armor walked past them. "... the hell?"

Turning her chin slightly as the costumed one caught up to her, she raised an eyebrow at what he said, and then the other as someone wearing a very cheesy knockoff of the suit she had maid strolled on past.

So... it was going to be one of those days, huh? "....Someone has the suit I made? Anger visibly flashed across her features, and she marched away from him, over toward the wall of a building. Planting a hand on the brick, she ordered her children off of her. They complied, marching down her arm in a little black mob, and up the side of the building.

As stupid as they were sometimes, they knew their mothers work. Her web was as familiar to them as their own. At the very least, they would recognize it's appearance."Split up, find my silk." The pack split into four groups of five, skittering up the wall and out of sight. Megan watched the plastic Judge waltz away, joining a group up ahead of him that were also in ridiculous costumes, and glanced at the Masochist. From what she could see, it looked like a bunch of nerds were gathering together for some hastily sprung party.

"I think I have an idea of where it could be." She followed after the guy in the judge costume, keeping her steps just slow enough for Mr. Masochist to keep up. It wasn't too long after, that she got the first heads up from one of her scouts. Apperantly the place just up around the corner was crawling with look alike costumes... and there were enough people gathered that it was impossible for her children to climb down from their high hiding places. "...There are a lot of wanna be super heroes up ahead... I think you'll fit right in." She muttered, tucking her hands into her pockets, and smirking a little.

Saph eyed her for a second as she called up some spiders, which seemed to obediently obey her commands... Interesting. She could talk to the ugly little things, huh? A talent like that could come in handy in his line of business... He shrugged the thought off, however... She hadn't shown herself to be someone with the level of maturity needed to be a successful vigilante; maybe later on down the line or something. For now, she at least seemed willing to help him find the armor, even if it was just because she was offended someone was running around with something she made.

He gave a grunt as a response at her wisea** remarks as they turned the corner, and he quickly realized where they were... It was the convention hall. That Blue Torch wannabe had been heading this way when the bank had been robbed. He remembered the whole thing pretty clearly, considering he'd gotten a bullet for his trouble. He winced at the wound reminded him of it's existence.

"It's not a party... It's a convention. I'm willing to bet my armor is in there somewhere." He started to hobble, and stumbled heavily... "I... Eh... I may need a hand." He held out an arm in a very slow, reluctant manner. He didn't have a crutch or anything, walking this far was way too painful, and he was running a risk of reopening his wound.

A convention? She stopped dead in her tracks, both eyrbrows vanishing into her mop of hair, and gaped openly at the many people around them. Yeah... this wasn't a party. There were hundereds of people gathered around, mulling around buffet style tables loaded with different food stuffs. People were dressed up as everything from real life super heroes, to the comic book variety.

Gritting her teeth, she strode forward and joined the masochist, already knowing that the task of tracking down her suit had just gotten twenty times harder. "For F#$ks sake! Of all the rotten luck in the world..."

More of her children radioed in, barking about hanfuls of people dressed in suits such as the one she had made. She groaned, and ordered them to stay well within range of her. She didn't need any of them wandering off and turning feral on her.

"There are a lot of suits similar to the one I made here... My spiders will help us track the real one down... but it could take a while."

She stared at him, the arm he had outstretched, and pursed her lips. He wanted more help after that emotionless shell jab? Rolling icy eyes, she gave in and strolled over, looping his arm over her shoulder. "A judge impersonator just walked inside... " She mentioned, after one of her kids informed her of the very same information.

He hated to admit it, but the helping hand actually helped quite a bit. He tried not to lean on the woman too much; partly because he just plain didn't like her a whole lot, but mostly because they were clearly in a different weight class. Still, any small bit of assistance made walking easier.

"So, you can see what they see? Or what, do you talk to them?" He had a feeling the latter was closer to correct; he'd known a few surveillance type mutants, and they always had a more blank look in their eyes when they were looking with their secondary sets.

"Looks like we head inside, then." He got a few looks from passerby's as they walked through the crowd... His stomach growled once more, but he ignored it. Off to the side he heard someone say. "Pleh... look at that cheesy Masochist rip off..." Another voice chimed in. "I dunno, it's better than your Blue Torch costume." A third spoke in an insanely nerdy tone. "I heard there was a really good BT costume here yesterday... Some skinny kid was wearing it."

He ignored the conversation as best he could, but the opening statement drew a chuckle. He motioned for the front door, eyeing the steps on the way up with a less than enthused expression.

Glancing at him from the corners of her eyes, she huffed quietly and turned her gaze away while answering him.

"They are a part of me... I make them from my skin. I tell them where to go, they tell me what they see, I find what I want."

Of course, they were kind of stupid... so it usually took some time to find things. "...they are more useful in head counting. Making sure a room is empty, checking hallways and dark alleys, making sure i'm not being followed... things like that."

Wincing slightly, since she had her own wounds that she was dealing with, she adjusted his arm arond her shoulders and eyed the crowd as they passed through. It was rediculous how many people had dressed up... She had never been the type of girl who played pretend, so full blown grown ups prancing around in costumes for no reason just didn't compute.

Then again, she liked getting dressed up for parties and karaoke... so maybe it was two sides of the same coin.

He totally missed her own display of pain as they traveled up the steps one by one; he had to give it to them; some of the costumes around here were really good. He'd met some of the heroes they were playing, and while some were definitely lacking the, um, shape of the person they were pretending to be. Some of the superheroes, though, he didn't recognize in the least...

Who was the green one in purple shorts? Wait... He'd seen it before in a movie, hadn't he? It was one of those comic book characters, of course! So they didn't only dress as real heroes, here? He found that odd... Why did people even write comics when they could go online and see the real thing. Still, he understood that people liked to inject drama into things, and honestly, it was better they kept close watch on some fictional character, rather than him.

As they approached the front door of the rather large establishment, they ran into the obstacle of a dreaded ticket counter. "Pshh... Nice costume, yeah right. You got a pass?" The snobby looking nerd at the booth spoke up, looking the Masochist up and down.

"Um... I need a pass?"

The man laughed a little, and pointed out to the long line next to them, ending in several booths, where people were shelling out money to get tiny little passes. "Yeah, bro. It'll be 65 bucks a pop. Have fun in line!"

The masochist turned to the spider woman next to him, and uttered. "Eh... what do we do?"

Megan's expression bordered on rage, as they were stopped. Something of her's was stolen, no matter if it actually *technically* belonged to someone else, and this little pimple face twerp wanted them to shell out sixty five bucks each to get in? Oh hell no.

"You're an idiot... you know that? Can't you tell when the real thing is standing right in front of you? He's the f#%$ing Masochist."

She really wanted to reach over and grab the guy by the front of his shirt, threaten him with a slow painful death via many nasty spider bites, and force her way in... but she had already sent her spiders out on their missions. That, and aside from relieving some of the tension built up inside of her, it'd probably end with them getting carted away by security.

The nerd laughed at her, openly, as if dismissing what she had just said. Her cheeks flushed read with anger and she gripped her companions arm a little harder, while grinding her teeth in anger. The urge to launch herself at the man was growing stronger... and she was starting to get Roach like urges when it came to what she wanted to do to him.

Saphirus barely contained a chuckle as the woman supporting him jumped in to chew out the pass checker, though a grin certainly found its way onto his mouth. The man stared at her for a second, and then burst out laughing.

"Yeah, and I'm the prince of the Gorlean space mongers, circa 1953, after he encountered Electronica the void mutant mother!" He laughed as if that reference were somehow hilarious, but was cut off when another person walked up... A nerdy looking man, just like the first, but this one had... oddly glowing eyes. "What's going on here, Garth?" Judging from his badge, he was in charge.

"This guy says he's the Masochist!"

The man's glowing eyes, which Saph swore he could see tiny rows of text passing through, focused on him for a moment. "Garth, I think this is the Masochist!" Garth paused, the smug look dropping from his face. "What?" The alpha nerd, blinked a few times, and his eyes glowed different patterns, one of which seemed to be a tiny picture of him. "Looks like him... If it really is him, though, he'll have a gun shot wound from that bank robbery."

Saph stared at them for a moment, at a loss for words. They knew about the heist? He shifted his weight painfully away from Megan, and lifted his shirt slowly, wincing as he showed off his bandages. In tandem, both of the nerd's eyes went as wide as they could as they leaned in. "Whhhoaaahhh."

"It's him!" light eyes said. "Mister Masochist, I must say it is an honor to meet you. You saved my sisters life, once! My name is Mark Handworthy, and I run Herowatch.org! I would do... anything to have you on our panel today." He wasn't sure about that... he wasnt much of a talker. "We will have free punch and pie for the speakers!" He looked over to Megan for a moment, and grinned. "Let her in, and we have a deal."

Mark paused, and tilted his head a little bit, blinking his eyes erratically for a few moment, and pausing. "I don't see you anywhere on the hero list... Who are you?"

Her anger dissipated a little with the appearance of someone who seemed to know what the hell was going on. Or, at least, he knew who the masochist was, and that she was standing next to the real thing. Progress, finally!

>>"Looks like him... If it really is him, though, he'll have a gun shot wound from that bank robbery."

Their eyes widened, her's narrowed. The man next to her took a little of his weight away and lifted his shirt. Yep... There was a bandaged gunshot wound. She went from eying it to see how bad it was, which was nearly impossible with all of the gauze wrapped around it, to eying him. He hadn't said anything... not a single complaint.

She could respect that, seeing as it was a trait she knew she lacked. She hated pain, all forms of it. Scratches, cuts, burns, bee stings... she hated them all, and avoided them like the plague. The only wounds that didn't actively bother her were her spider wounds. And mostly, that was because she liked the stupid little critters too much.

Her attention was drawn back to the situation at hand, just as her shoulder started throbbing for sympathy. She was really going to have to improve the Judge's suit, if he was going up against guns all the time. "I'm the costume designer." She answered, after a moment of thought. She couldn't tell them about the stolen suit.. because she was damn sure he'd kill her for realz if she blabbed that important bit of info at a super hero convention.

"Costume designer?" Mark's eyes flicked a few times, and he looked the Masochist up and down. "Kealey Quinn? You don't exactly look like her." Saphirus kept up a facade of calmness as he sorted things out in his mind, and chimed in quickly. "She designed the most recent rendition; With the changed mask, and the different symbol placement." The man looked at him for a second, and then finally nodded. "Yeah, it has changed a little."

Mark stared for a moment, his eyes went blank and narrowed until there were no pupils for a quick flash, and then went back to normal. "I hope you don't mind me taking pictures. Garth hopped up. "Can I get a pic with him? I gotta tell my mom about this!" Before the Masochist even knew what was going on, the nerd hopped up, stood in front of Megan, smiled big, and gave Mark a thumbs up. Mark snapped the eye-picture. "There we go. I'll tag you on Facespace."

Within seconds they were both given VIP passes, and name tags. The doors to the convention were open to them; all they needed was to get back in an hour for the panel.

Blue eyes narrowed, and she glanced at the wounded man beside her. She was tempted to jam her thumb straight into his bullet wound. If he had a @#&!%*$ costume designer already, one who obviously knew what she was doing, why the hell did he need her still?!

She'd save retribution for later though. At the moment the annoying geek in glasses jumped in front of her, leaving her desiring nothing more than to plant her boot up his backside and leave it there. She could deal with walking around barefoot.

Instead, a picture was snapped and they were on their way. With new little VIP badges too boot! Megan scowled at hers, thoroughly unimpressed, and marched on with the injured Masochist in tow. "If you have someone to make you your damn costumes already, why the hell do you need me still?" She growled at him, once she was sure that they were a safe distance away from Mcmicrophones-for-ears.

Another from her batch of spiders radioed back in, and her head whipped to the left, searching the faces and randomly costumed bodies around them.

"There are a few Judges over there somewhere. A small clump of them, from what I can tell."

She glanced over at him, then, suddenly, without any warning what-so-ever, she reached over and firmly pinched his rump. "Also, why the #%$@ didn't you mention getting shot, you ass?! I can totally set you up with some bullet proof material I'm working on...."