“Like ya haven’ been doin’ the same thin’, blue boy. Actin’ like ya won’ be needin’ any sor’ of help. Especially here.” Considering both she and her husband had a fairly good hand over what was their part of the city, his insistence on going it alone, to Rockatoo, was painfully misguided.
“Oh really? I have three words for you Mrs. Delic,” he pointed up, “Orbital Death Laser,” with that, he squeezed the trigger on the de-hydrate setting.
The answer she’d been about to give is cut short, a momentary register of shock on the woman’s face just before a small blue cube clatters to the pavement.
Sighing, Syx hit the cube with de-coupage to keep it from uncubing too soon and gingerly picked it up and tucked it in his cape pocket with as much care as if it was a live grenade. What had he gotten himself into? But being seen as weak, that he could be bent to another’s will, especially to the will of a much more violent villain was just not an option. He set the rules, he didn’t play by other’s rules. He’d made it on his own on these streets since he was 15. He’d always gone his own path, never siding with the big gangs. The trick was doing it right. He was hardly alone anymore… nearly a thousand functioning brain bots and a team of a hundred that were battle trained and kitted out. His Uncles and other criminal contacts loyal to him. Police and Prison Guards on payroll. Favors owed to him by other villains and heroes. No… if this Rockatoo thought him weak and in need of help, she and her team had another thing coming. Still… he now had a cube to package and send off and a lot of plotting to do…
RP backup 