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Mar 18, 2019 7:34 PM
of daemons and superheroes and dead gods
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He shifts into a better running form and lopes off rather easily, leading the way to an area abutting one of the many - not quite parks, but more areas of wood that humans failed to kill. He shifts down into human form while out of anyone's sight except Mach Seven and their daemons, then almost casually strolls up to the apartment complex, and to a door on the basement floor, knocking.

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A daemon answers it. He appears to be separated from his human, or else she's invisible, because she's not in sight.

"You guys back? Who's this?" he asks, looking at Mach Seven.

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"Name's Mach Seven," he says.  "Met your partner Silver Wolf on patrol, he offered to introduce us."

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"You a hero, then?"

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"Uh, aspirationally, I guess."

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"Checks out," the lynx informs Silver Wolf, then pads over to a piece of furniture that can't seem to decide if it's a couch or a folded-in-half mattress and jumps up, before curling in on himself to watch the group with suspicious eyes.

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"Well, that's good," Silver Wolf says cheerily, and turns to Mach Seven. "Uh. Want something to drink or something?"

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A vaguely late-teens-ish girl uses that moment to appear in the doorway, hair concealed by a loose hoodie, simple mask affixed to her face. 

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"Soda'd be good."  He frowns bemusedly.  "What was that about?"

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While Silver fetches soda, Codex comes in, says, "Ilmari does lies and is paranoid, he insists on checking people at least vaguely."

"I," says the daemon, "Am reasonable. You would invite a villain in if he had a new language."

"Duh," is Codex's reply. "Especially a rare one, languages don't grow on trees." (Does Mach Seven know any neat ones?)

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(Mach Seven knows only English.)

He laughs.  "You must be Codex?  Ilmari doesn't know my secret identity now, does he?"

(He has a secret identity!  Eee!)

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"Oh, no, code names are the right kind of true," she says, leaning against a wall. "So you ran into Silver? What happened?"

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"I was patrolling, Silver was following the scent of someone he thought had been injured, we crossed paths.  He didn't find anyone, but the place where we lost the scent there was another one, Silver said they smelled like formaldehyde.  Both trails just kinda vanished, like they'd teleported away."

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"Huh. Formaldehyde isn't exactly sold on the street, but it's easy enough to get unfortunately... That does imply a narrow search pool, though, someone who works with it regularly or whose power relates to it... I'll want to take or send Ilmari when we start asking questions, someone trying to lie to him might be the fastest way to solve this but the power's still on the fritz..."

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"On the fritz?"

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"Has - weird conditions for working. Which mostly keep me from munchkining objective truth."

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"Ah, gotcha.  Not sure I'd be too much help in this phase, unless you want some extra muscle when you go interrogating people."

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"If you're local you could probably help a lot, we haven't been around the area long - in masks or out."

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"I'm local, but I haven't been - this-ing, very long, if that's what you meant."

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"Should still be enough to help. And backup muscle doesn't hurt, truth is useless in most fights."

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"Sounds like a plan.  When do you wanna head out?"

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"While I'd normally like some time to look things up, it's probably best to do any questioning while the trail's relatively fresh?"

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"Sounds good to me."

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"Silver! Come on, we're heading out - "

The lynx hauls himself up off the couch.

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"Coming!" he calls, and emerges with drinks for the road.

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