Loricae go walking slowly through the sewer, looking for a ladder up and an aperture out.

The blue jay attempts to bite Lorica Plumata and make a break for it while she's climbing the ladder out.

Nope. The bird's being squeezed quite tightly and even getting used to being almost impossible to injure has not made Lorica easily deterred by a bluejay beak at a bad angle. Climbing the ladder is difficult but she manages by wrapping her elbows around the rungs and going very slowly. She doesn't know what happens if she lets go of one.

One of the rungs crumbles, as energy branches out from the robin's beak.

"Evil-Lucien-bird, I might need the bluejay alive, but as far as I know you have no value to me and you have hollow bones. Chirp once if you understand."

The robin chirps.

(He had to try, and probably will again once he gets a better chance - being captured like this is just as bad as being dead.)

She tries to avoid having him close to the rungs anyway. The others help her up.

Now there are five naked girls, three white and two brown, standing naked in the street in Brockton Bay! Where are they?

Not too far from where she started - it's only a twenty minute walk to where Beacon Tower collapsed. This particular neighborhood is dense and residential.

One of them walks up to the nearest door and knocks.

A woman in her early twenties answers the door of her townhouse.

"Ye-." Nope.

She unanswers the door, slamming it shut. She's been in Brockton Bay through enough disasters to know cape shit when she sees it.

"I just want some blankets or something! It's chilly!"

The door opens up a crack.

"Stay outside, I'll get you something. Don't come in." The door closes

A minute later the door opens again, wider this time, and the woman presents two blankets and a bundle of oversized shirts. 

"Perfect, thank you." She brings these back to the rest of the gang. They cooperate to put one of the shirts on Plumata so she doesn't have to hold onto a blanket with her encumbered hands and distribute the rest amongst themselves. And head off to - sigh - the nearest PRT office.

The nearest PRT office turns out to be one of the recently set-up checkpoints. There's an Undersider graffiti tag to the left of the front door.

"Hi, we're all Lorica, we were recently - duplicated? We need a safe place to... uh... deposit the cape who did it and somebody who's either Lacuna or a copy of him. Whom that one has turned into birds."

.... 

"A moment please." says the lady at the front desk, typing out a message to her boss with a priority marking.

Various Loricas other than Plumata try to figure out by introspection what their powers are.

One of them has the feeling she can... poof.

Well that doesn't sound like something to test this minute but it's good to know if she encounters an emergency situation in which it would be useful to go poof.

Tattletale receives a text.

Huh, that would explain why Lorica wasn't answering her phone.

"Lorica clones at our ex-PRT office acting nice."

"For real?"

"Maybe?"

Helpful.

Skitter continues negotiating with Miss MIlita about a temporary alliance, regardless of what Tagg is saying, and simultaneously assembles a swarm clone in the ex-PRT outpost.

"What happened?" a sudden fuckton of bugs asks the Loricae.

"Uh, hi, Skitter," says one. "I'd say you could text me but I guess you couldn't."