POV: 3rd Person
The second response came from the one using the codename Overwatch Low, who, instead of speaking, pressed the button on his device three times in sequence since he was in public and couldn’t make a scene.
"Heh, man, this is boring; how much longer are we going to wait…" dropping his binoculars, the young man complained to the sky while rolling over onto his back and looking up at the dark storm clouds.
But the moment he did, he froze with a mixture of surprise and fright…because standing only a foot away from him and looking down was a child wearing a white hockey mask and a black hoodie.
"Well, would you look at that~; what do I find but three little groupies huddling around my prey? Whatever shall I do, tisk tisk, this simply won’t do." The child spoke strangely, not unlike he was performing some sort of skit for the young man codenamed Overwatch High.
"Three little groupies, hiding in a bunch, one up high and one out for lunch; the third little groupie thought himself smart, so he posted up hiding in a food mart.~" Singing a creepy tune, Overwatch High trembled as the child in a mask spun a sinister-looking dagger on the tip of his finger as if it were a basketball.
Between showing up out of nowhere and singing an oddly frightening song, Overwatch High was overwhelmed by fear, especially as he watched how the child expertly twirled and played with the dagger.
To make matters worse, based on the words of the song the creepy masked kid sang, he already knew the exact locations of his teammates, and the fact that he knew but didn’t seem to care was an indication that he wasn’t worried about back up coming to join the party, either that or the kid was strong enough to look down on them, something Overwatch high was leaning toward being the reason.
There was no doubt in his mind that this kid was a Returner; worse yet, odds are he was a villain in the origin timeline, meaning unlike those he had fought over the past few months, this kid would attack him at the drop of a hat with no qualms about stabbing him to death and leaving his corpse to rot on the rooftop.
Left with no other option and cursing his bad luck in his mind, Overwatch High rolled to the side, grabbed his walkie, and was about to shout that he needed help when something odd happened.
The moment he looked back at the creepy masked kid, a shiver traversed his entire body as he looked into those icy blue eyes hidden under the familiar white mask.
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POV: 1st Person Taylor
’Psy-Kinesis, toss away the walkie-talkie. Don’t move, don’t speak unless spoken to.’
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Still thinking about the song I had sung and feeling pretty good about the lyrics, I was utterly unbothered when the kid tried rolling away and going for his walkie-talkie.
Instead, I swiftly activated my talent and burned some PC to stun-lock the guy calling himself Overwatch High.
It had been around three hours since I arrived near the Mammoth Café, and to be honest, I was more than a little annoyed. For starters, I knew this guy here had been on one of the rooftops, and then there was one inside the café, but I was in the dark about the location of the third Returner. It was only after locating this guy and staying hidden to eavesdrop on his conversations that I got a rough idea of where the last Returner was located.
Usually, that wouldn’t have been nearly enough for me to get annoyed; no, it was the fact that the three were posted up in different locations and working together that almost made me kill the dude on the spot.
Luckily, this disgusting trash heap of a human being was dumb and careless enough to throw a fast-food bag over the edge of the building while I was sneaking around, and between that and him not even trying to be quiet when checking in, Overwatch High, as he calls himself, was the first I found.
Once I knew his location, I climbed up the fire escape and waited.
Staying hidden long enough to hear him checking in with the others, I eventually spotted the guy hidden on the second floor of the local grocery store half a block down the street in the opposite direction of the Mammoth Café.
This guy was more careful than Overwatch High, but not by much, as he still stood in the middle of an open window looking at the rooftop where his teammate was stationed every time he checked in, effectively putting Overwatch Mid in the same category of idiot as High.
Although they appeared to be working in tandem and had a semblance of teamwork in their favor, it was evident to me within minutes that they were originally strangers who, for some reason or another, ended up working together.
Keeping that thought in the back of my mind, I quickly surmised that they would do their little check-in roleplay precisely every 30 minutes. After hearing the way Overwatch Low checked in, I knew I’d have to make a risky move and enter the café in order to try and spot a guy pressing a walkie-talkie every 30 minutes on the dot. I devised a workable plan to do so…but it was extremely bothersome.
It was by far the most annoying thing I had done today, more bothersome than repeatedly climbing up and down multistory buildings like Aracnid-man, more annoying than being soaked to the bone because of the rain, and more irritating than having to smell the foul stench of a teenager who hadn’t bathed in god knows how long surrounded by week old trash and half eaten food.
The borderline idiotic plan I had come up with was so simple, yet complex, that if it were any other time, I’d give myself a pat on the back…but not today.
The plan, which I pulled off flawlessly, involved me acting like a real five-year-old, coercing someone off the street into acting like my father, entering the café, getting some cookies, and hanging out while using my particle location technique at close range to find the final missing Person.