Ontario: Escrimer

'Hm, a lazy anarchist', Agent concluded.

"Ultimately, you're right, but some are so far removed from the land in this day and age that they could never survive a winter without technology," 58664 responded.

As he got up to leave and she followed, the gaggle of gander-ers got up and hurried towards Neaera.

"Oh my god! You can't leave, we're kindred spirits you know? I can see it in the astral plane! I mean, you've at least got to teach us how you do it! It's not fair to keep it to yourself. You'll teach us, right?" Neaera's fan-club was quickly becoming more aggressive and crowding her.

"Er... is this normal?" asked Agent.

Baxter found himself wandering up to a clothing donation bin. Heroes had secret identities for a reason right? He retrieved his notebook and marked this down before putting it away to start rummaging through the clothing. He found himself a pair of jeans that fit along with a grey hoodie. Perfect for covering up his costume. He slipped them on and pulled the hood up before heading back off through the city.

He passed by a few shop windows, not paying too much attention to anything in particular before he was suddenly stopped in his tracks. His head tilted back, his eyes gazing up. The sign over this shop read simply "Yoga". Baxter lowered his head and looked to the window, watching a few people entering some relaxing poses, eventually hitting the meditating pose.... Hmm....

The spirit plane again. Yoga was SO boring. He decided to use this time to his advantage to look about once again. He noticed that glowing spirit once again...not a kindred spirit from the looks of things after all. He as no astral plane professional, but he knew more than that guy at least. It would be hard pressed to find anything on her level. This time she seemed to be around more people...one of them being that dark, soulless looking figure. What did that mean..? Was something going on..? It as time for him to investigate.

Baxter returned to his body and headed off to the diner. He was starting to get the hang of this. He left the yoga fanatics to their boring time.

Returning to the storefront that night, the three people the old man had met were a bit disappointed by the fact that their hangout had been burned down, but not at all surprised about it. Jill wondered aloud about the whereabouts of the elderly rapist when Jacques pointed out that some of the Do Not Cross lines were around what appeared to be an exploded vehicle, and then proceeded to point out a severed finger by her foot. Surely the old man either escaped beforehand or died at the hands of the gang members, but then again he did shoot those guys, or so Eddie claimed.

Still, Jill pointed out that she had received a call earlier that day that appeared to be from the man at around 8, but returning the call caused a nearby payphone to ring.

"We should probably find him." Tom wondered aloud. The other two agreed after some insistance. With his injury and brazeness, Tom reasoned he was probably still around. They parted ways, but before they did Jacques laughed at the little shit playing dress-up. "Little faggot Justice-wannabe!" he shouted from a distance. He wasn't that clever.

Neaera looks down at those crowding her with a frown.

"No." She says, not being clear on who she is responding to. She tries to push past the people as though they don't exist so she can continue following Agent, not very fond of chatty humans with nothing important to say.

Neaera's fans were visibly upset.
"You think you're special, don't you!" they screamed after her as she and 58664 left.

Agent would lead Neaera around the city streets at break-neck hobble speeds. If nothing out of the ordinary happened, he would meet up with Pomme's crew at the arranged time and place.

Eventually, the trio returned to where they had apparently told the old guy to meet them. Hard to believe he'd be waiting there after five days, but Canadians are busy so surely the old guy would understand.

Tom reminded his two cohorts that they should eventually show the elder and his skills to Pomme, while Jacques openly wondered if he was even still alive.

"Shit, we really dropped the ball here, guys." Jill stated.

Damn right, Jill. Damn fucking right.

58664 had spent the five days teaching the Forest Hobo about the new world as best he could.
Sometimes, he wondered why she didn't return to the forest, though.

"Why do you remain in the city?" He'd asked her once.

"There is...an energy here. Something calls to me. Something is not right and I must fix it. I stay because my instincts tell me I must." Neaera responds thoughtfully.

'Girl needs her fix' was what Agent had taken from that particular exchange. He wondered about checking her into rehab, but didn't know Canada's stance on free health-care for forest-hobos.

Still, this was the first person in a long time whom he shared any experiences with, and hobo-bonds are strong, so he continued to keep her company until the time for the meeting with Pomme's men.

Bored with their search, the three reconvened on Leopard Avenue and Lion Street at roughly 7:20, safely in Eye territory. Jacques began a short discussion amongst the three:

"Where the fuck is that guy? Did we ever get a phone number out him him him?"

"No; he showed up in a hospital gown, remember? No cell phone or anything."

"Maybe Charlie and Eddie know where he went?"

"Nah, I already tried him. He's got nothing?"

"I think he died when our hideout got blown up or something."

"D'you really think so so so?"

"Iunno. Do you guys remember where we said we'd meet?"

"It was around here, I think or maybe it was down by Snow Leopard Street."

"Nope nope nope, it was here, I think. But I think he was supposed to show at around noon noon noon."

"Well, it's a little late for that, isn't it?"

"Well, I dunno. I guess we'll wait here if he shows up by chance and if not we'll try again tomorrow. If not that then I'm sure if he's at all important to anything he'll show up again and shoot those guys up."

"Okay sure. But speaking of creepy guys, have you guys noticed some weird guy who occasionally wears purple?"

"What, like a pimp?"

"No, not Big Larry. I've seen him a few times out of the corner of my eye during some of our...confrontations. He doesn't wear a shirt but we wears a big purple robe. Anyone?"

"Yeah, I think I've seen the guy, but he hat a purple hat."

"Oh oh oh! I've seen that guy with the hat hat hat. He stares at us with his soulless eyes eyes eyes. It's super creepy."

"So, what's his M.O. do you guys think?"

"I dunno. Most people just run when we get into scuffles, or if there aren't any firearms visible they're watch in a group. This guy just seems to hang around in dark alleys and shit; it's like he's looking for this sort of stuff."

"Weird. Maybe he's filming a documentary about us?"

"...unlikely."

The conversation tapered off around there.

Agent continued waiting at the meeting spot for a looong time
He pushed Neaera over once, just because.

Neaera is ready to turn into a bear and strike back at this betrayal. She stops herself in the nick of time though, remembering Agent's lessons on friendship, sarcasm, teasing, and general not being serious. Thinking for a second more she decides on an appropriate response and laughs.

Having waited long enough, Agent offers Neaera his hand.
It was time to leave Canada, it was a silly place anyway.

"Come, let's go explore the world. I'm sure there are plenty of places with energy fixes," he said to the druggie forest-hobo

Neaera takes Agent's hand with little hesitation.

"Where will we go?" She asks, wondering if she will see more cities. It is hard for her to imagine that there is a world of concrete jungles out there.

Hm, south I imagine. If you're looking for an energy fix, there are cities renowned for their ... energy supply. Might be some in this country too, but I don't know this country like I know the other," Agent replied absentmindedly as he lead them to the train-station.
When he realized he was still holding Neaera's hand, he let it go.