You are (Not) the Heroes IC

"Ow ow ow..." Dove hisses as the green light rolls over him, but sighs afterwards as he feels the frostbite abate from his back. "Oh... that's nice."

Stretching out his wings, the roc feather noticeably dimmer after the prolonged use, Dove looks around, confused. "I guess we won? But... where did Low Key go? What did he want anyway?"

He offers the questions to everyone, but mostly to Zapp.

"A hunter never loses her prey." Gaia lifts her head and sniffs the air, staying there for a moment then looking back to Dove Colt. "Mm. The scent of ozone and frost leads northward towards the city boundaries, but he's slowing down. I'll bet he needs some time to recuperate, just like us."

At the mention of where Low Key is headed, Zapp starts, snapping out of her reverie and staring up into the sky. With a tired voice, she says, "Thy efforts have perhaps repelled him, but he has hardly been struck a mortal blow, not with the power granted him by the elemental swarm."

"More likely, 'tis a strategic retreat as part of his infernal machinations." Zapp sighs, but still straightens up regardless of her injuries. "Heroes, thy assistance is greatly appreciated. Thou hold the potential to be mighty warriors yet. But thy role in this conflict is past - what lies beyond is mine burden alone to carry."

Lightning coalesces around her wings, but she doesn't move to take off yet, looking at the group as though waiting for any more queries they may have. There is a hint of newfound respect in her eyes that didn't seem to exist before, as she surveys the team.

"I can respect that," says Sunset. "Low Key busted out my own nemesis, so I'll have to go back to fightin' that war, along with dealin' with everything else. If ya ever need extra help, we'll be around."

She glances around at her team, and moves in closer.

"I do owe ya an apology," she says more softly. "See, you Power Ponies been puttin' a lotta holes in the city, and not everypony with homes and jobs in them holes ever got 'em back. A lot of the stories I heard over in the housin' projects involve you in some way, and a lot of the homeless ponies I talked to out that way blame their misfortunes on you. I let that color my judgment, and I made a lot of assumptions about you without havin' actually met ya. I was wrong for doin' that."

"Oh," Daff says, a little confused. Then, he nods to Madame Mask. It's hardly the first time he's had to accept something that was totally over his head.

He perks visibly at the praise from Zapp. It's not often your group gets a compliment from the Power Ponies. He briefly considers trying to see if he can get a hoofprint before dismissing the idea. Real heroes concern themselves with evil, not memorabilia! Speaking of which...

"I don't want to let evil get away, but even Rousseau's tired after that big fight. We may need a bigger squeaky hammer if we're going to beat that pony next time," the stallion admits. "If Low Key is so powerful because of those bugs, maybe we should worry about the bugs instead of him. Once Rousseau gets a nap, that is."

Madame Mask seems unfazed by the look of respect from Zapp...

Crimson didn't say anything as the Low Key in front of him disappeared. Part of that fact was because his mouth hurt like all hell and speaking would just make it worse, part of it was he was just to tired and sore.

As some kind of healing magic started to bath him in its green glow while rain started to pour, Crimson felt the frostbitten wounds on his skin start to ease and heal. A sigh of relief escaped from him as he turned his head skywards, letting the cooling sensation wash over him and finding himself numb to the world around him, the words and actions of others being little more then white noise as he tried to calm down; To feel more like himself then whatever he was at the moment. How had he managed to screw things up so badly?

Ever since he had put his mask back on he had just felt... irritated with those around him. Angry that they didn't see things his way to the point of actually trying to bully them and why? Where was all this hostility coming from?

Needless to say, Crimson wouldn't be moving under his own power unless someone brought him back down to Equestria.

"Well-" Zapp sighs, a rueful smile on her face as she looks at Sunset. "Thou hast seen the quality of foes we face. Tis' a challenge to avoid all any public damage and still apprehend our enemies. There was a time when such things were not a concern, but alas, that time is past."

"If the swarms return, I hath faith that thou art capable of dispelling them." She nods, this time at Daff. "But if I am to confront him, now is the time to do it. Should he reorganize himself, give himself time to plan, then all is over. I must strike while the steel is hot, so to speak."

"And thou mayst want to prod thy teammate a little." She gestures at Crimson. "Fare thee well, heroes!"

With a flash of lightning and a clap of thunder, Zapp disappears into the distance in a matter of moments, almost turning into lightning itself as she streaks after Low Key.

Silence descends on the raining, slightly battered and smoking arena.

The fake Madame Mask watches Zapp storm away to chase Low Key. "I thought she'd never leave," she mumbles to her team mates...

The real Madame Mask, still invisible, pulls out her card and whispers "Sunglow. Zapp and Low Key have exited stage left, everypony is still standing. How is the situation on the streets?"

"-Moonbright. Honestly? Scarily quiet." Argent says. "I have agents sweeping the streets, but aside from the ones apprehended from the initial prison break we haven't managed to catch anything substantial yet. It seems they have the unfortunate sense to lay low for now. So you're done on your end? That's great - I honestly was worried after the equipment picked up the massive surge of magic from your end. Just keep your eyes peeled for now - I don't have much that I can report on this side. Ferrum will be catching up with you shortly - and don't worry about the police this time, we've made sure to inform them that Zapp and Low Key are having a showdown there. Only a real idiot would willingly go near there without the proper preparation."

"Mmm. She's a loud one. Not sure if I like her." Flapping her wings out weakly to stop the tired muscles from cramping up, Gaia takes a deep breath, shaking off the fatigue creeping up on her. She's easily in the best condition of the group, so she has no right to complain when the others are battered and injured.

Looking around, she walks up to the clearly out of it Crimson Chef and stares at him for a moment. Her wild magic should have patched up the worst of his wounds, leaving him still hurt but not severely so. So clearly something else is the cause for his stupor. She waves a wing at him, blowing some wind in his face. After watching his reaction for a few moments, she sighs.

"Take a break," she decides, turning away from him. "You're showing signs of over-exhaustion and stress. You'll just hurt yourself if you strain that brain of yours any more."

Dove Colt shivers once the pressure of having Zapp there lifts. Letting out a breath, he takes a few woozy steps forward, before deciding to stay put. "So... what, do we just go back to base? Done and over with?"

He looks around the battlefield, the signs of the fight slowly being washed away by the rain. "I don't see anything else to be done."

Sunset rolls her eyes and approaches Crimson.

”Don’t look like he’s in any state o’ mind to hear ya, Gaia,” she says. ”If you’re wily enough and a good kisser, I’ve found you can usually get a stallion out of this kinda funk real easy.”

She turns and starts to lean in, then pulls back at the last second.

”But not if they got bad mace breath from chewin' fireball gumballs. Plan B.”

Sunset's horn flashes, and Ol’ Trigger idles closer to her and Crimson. Another flash from her horn, and the passenger-side door clatters open.

”You and Daff help him get in the truck. We'll snap him out when we get back to base.”

Daff trots over to Crimson, craning his head forward to look at the stallion worriedly. He was injured, but as far as Daff could tell, not too significantly more than some of the rest of them, thanks to Gaia's magic. He waves a hoof in front of Crimson's eyes before moving to his side to help guide him along to the truck.

"Are you alright?" he asks with concern. "Would you like to hold Rousseau? That always makes me feel better," he offers.

At first Crimson didn't respond to the presence of the others, merely staring blankly and unfocused at nothing ahead of him as if his brain was trying to reboot itself after some kind of horrible crash. However, the offer of holding Rousseau actually seems to get something of a response out of him. It's ever so slight, but his head seemed to nod a little as he blinked for the first time in who knew how long.

As the group loads up onto the truck, Ferrum walks up to the group and gives them a professional smile and nod before heading off, followed up a troupe of SWAT looking individuals.

The group goes off back to the base, where they find a large bundle of cash, enough for roughly 500 bits per player character when divided up.

There's also an envelope tacked onto the notice board, same as last time, containing an after-action report, as well as a letter from Argent.

Letter from Argent:

Report #2:

"It seems that our performances are being well received," comments Madame Mask, "Reckless abandon must be alright as long as it works out."

"Sounds to me like they care more about results."

By now, Robyn had taken her costume off and organized it for cleaning again. Her body is still half-peppered white with pigeon poop, the parts of her costume she was wearing during Dove Colt's pigeon bombing run perfectly outlined in her fur.

"We won the fight," she says, dropping her Sunset accent, "but not without making mistakes that would've gotten some of us killed or worse if Low Key wasn't interested in just toying with us." She turns to face Crimson Chef. "You insulted your own allies in front of a supervillain, and then later tried to lead into an attack by monologuing about friendship. That gave Low Key the impression that we're petty, dysfunctional hypocrites, thereby giving him ammo to use if he ever decides to discredit us. Using monologues at all during combat is also a bad move, because it gives the enemy time to figure out what you're about to do and how to make you not do it.

"But I'll forgive you for it, because I made a mistake, too. You were right about me jumping into combat too fast. I owe y'all an apology for that."

She pauses to think, then hits on an idea.

"If you want," she says to Crimson, "you and I could partner up out-of-costume and be each other's hero coaches. We'll help each other get better at this." She moves in closer to whisper, "I'm also homeless and unemployed, so if you let me crash with you and work in your restaurant when we're off-duty, you'd do me a solid."She backs off and smiles. "Whatcha think?"

For much of the ride back to base, Crimson said and did nothing apart from softly stroke the little chipmunk in his hooves, his gaze still somewhat unfocused as his mind underwent a short but brutal cycle of tearing itself apart for his repeated failures.

When had he started to let his temper get the better of him?

Stroking Rousseau actually did seem to make him feel a little better about the whole thing; Out of all of his new teammates, Crimson found himself liking Daff the most. He couldn't help but feel like the ice cream serving stallion would have his back regardless of what happened and that honestly meant the world to him when the rest of the team was kind of...  No, that was the wrong way to think about it. He couldn't blame the rest of the team because of his own misconceptions of what a team needed to be.

Taking a large, deep breath, Crimson seemed to let go of whatever was keeping him so uptight and bothered... and almost dropped to the floor of their base as all the weight of the day caught up with him. Sweet Celestia he was tired. However, the day did not have the decency to pick then and there to end; Sunset wandered over, pointing out his failures (Somewhat rightly as well) before offering him the first of what appeared to be two deals... through the second, whispered one seemed to be the more official of the two. Sighing deeply, Crimson answered "It's not my restaurant, I'm just one of the cooks there. I can try and put in a good word for you through. As for crashing with me you'll be on the couch... and you will most likely end up sleeping with my roommate at some point."

A small chuckle escaped him as he seemed to perk up. "This isn't an insult to you; He is honestly just that charismatic. I once saw him convince a stripper to pay him for the privlege of giving him a lap dance."

Rolls:

"Can't help but feel like there's more to this Low Key debacle than we're aware of. Almost feels like he let us off easy, doesn't it, considering how powerful he is?"

Dove Colt yawns as he reads through the report and the letter. "Huh. Lexicon Tower, huh? I'll bet Lexicon Author is one of the sponsors, then."

While Daff reads through the report, quietly moving his lips silently along with the words, Rousseau finally retuns to him, after having kept Crimson company the trip back only after some urging on Daff's part. The squirrel promptly curls up on the stallion's head in his usual place.

"It should be Rousseau and his partner Daff," Daff says after finishing his reading. "Rousseau is very picky about that."

Daff tapps his chin with a large hoof. "That's a lot of days to wait while evil is plotting, though. I don't like plotting. Bad plotting," he says to nopony in particular. Rousseau yawns back in reply. "Maybe you're right," he agrees with the squirrel.

Faege wrote:"Almost feels like he let us off easy, doesn't it, considering how powerful he is?"

Daff wanders over to the others. "I don't think that felt very easy," he admits. "Who's Lexicon Author?"

"We got off easy because he was toying with us."

Robyn gives Crimson a playful bump as she turns to address the others. "We'll pick this up on the way to your place."

To the rest of the group, she says, "You're right, Daff. That is a lot of time to wait, and I don't think the villains that just busted out are gonna be sitting around on their laurels. They'll be setting up their operations and getting ready to start recruiting henchponies, and they'll be looking at the homeless squatters in the projects that'll do anything for a few bits and some food."

She thinks for a moment. "We have a gourmet chef and an ice cream pony on our team. What if we got one of those catering wagons tomorrow, loaded it up with food, wheeled it over to the projects, and started feeding homeless in our superhero identities? Maybe get some news reporters out there to show us heroes out there doing some good for those in need, inspire others to follow suit?"

"...A PR campaign, huh?" Gaia speaks up as she curls up in her corner of the base, which already has several blankets and towels gathered together into a nest or den of sorts.

"It's a good idea, I suppose. There's no better way of demonstrating one's strength of character than helping those in need. If you want, I can tag along and offer medical services. We all know the city's healthcare is abysmal."

She yawns languidly, and turns to Daff.

"Daff, sunshine, we fought a literal god of winter and treachery, I'm frankly surprised we made it out at all."

"Low Key told me he got what he want, and did not wish to stay in this city much longer," comments Madame Mask, "And with Zapp determined to hunt him down, it will be advantageous to focus our efforts towards the other escaped villains. That way, if he does come back for a repeat performance, we will be more experienced. Our sponsor might not be Mr. Author either. Unlikely, but possible. I hope we get additional information, such as how formal this meeting will be and if we are to be in costume or not."

"As for your idea about feeding the poor..." Madame Mask sighs as she prepares for everypony to give her a disgusted look, "I'm sorry darling, but I recommend against doing that. It is simply not our role in this act."

Crimson rolled his eyes a little at Robyn's playful bump. He wasn't exactly in the mood for it right now, but he remained silent about it as he listened to what she had to say about future plans for the team. The possibility of a PR stunt in relation to himself and Daff actually caused him to pause a little in thought. He had a shift tomorrow night, but if he timed it right he could feed the homeless for most of the day, go home and have a nap for an hour or two before working through his shift with a cup or two of coffee. Maybe he might even get another nap in afterwards as well! Wouldn't be the first he had done this after all...

Still, there was one thing that bothered him that made him shake his head. "I'm happy to 'Feed the homeless' in the projects tomorrow. It feels like I could do some real good by doing so while possibly making a few friends in that area. But I don't want any news reporters to be there." Taking a moment to look down at the ground somewhat shyly, he scuffed his right hoof against it as he admitted "I feel like if we did that, it would taint the whole gesture. It would stop being about doing something nice for ponies that need a helping hoof and make us like that famous mare that shows up at all the charities to talk them up but doesn't actually donate any bits herself... What's her name again?" He asked aloud as he tapped his hoof against the ground in thought before abandoning the idea altogether. "Doesn't matter really, but I would feel like some smug elitist who was doing it just to shove how 'good' I was in ponies faces."

Turning to look at Madame Mask, Crimson couldn't help but raise his eyebrow a little bit at the fact that she was against the idea. Creating and maintaining appearances seemed to be her thing after all... "Well I'm happy to volunteer my time tomorrow, maybe with Daff if he is happy to come and join me, but I do agree with you that it might be a waste of all of our talents to be there. Maybe the rest of the teams talents would be better spent elsewhere doing other things?"