Shofet

Meta-Naut The Meta-Naut looked around at the people in the area, and found that Rebellion seemed to be correct. Her eyes narrowed as she inspected the scene. "I kinda wonder why he just zaps random people like that. Like, some of them he uses as lackeys, it seems like, but others he just sort of zaps and leaves. It seems like he would be better of recruiting all of them, don't you think?" Then again, the plans of plenty of villains didn't always make a lot of sense. Many of them were more committed to the gimmick than was really practical. Maybe his thing was like... Just causing chaos? Without a chance to interrogate the guy safely, she couldn't say for sure. "So, you think we should head inside?"

GM Adrian sighed, rubbing at his lip and removing some of the blood from it in the process. He looked at the heroes around him, his eyes settling on Archer. He looked at the bow leveled at him, and smiled. "You know, I never got to meet your predecessor. But uh, always wanted to say something to him, figure I can say it to you: anything a bow can do, a firearm can probably do better." He looked like he was about to say something else, when suddenly, his phone buzzed in his pocket. He blinked, pulling it out and looking at it. "Hmm," he said. "You got another guy outside I don't know about?" "Uh..." Serena said, looking over at her compatriots. Then, Adrian's phone started to ring. He blinked, and answered it. Putting it up to his ear, he looked at the others with a deeply concerned expression. "Hello?" He asked. The response inaudible to others, he nodded, and then put it up on speakerphone. "Hey, hey, babies," came a youthful sounding woman's voice. "I'm Roadkill, and my brother here is Rayburst. Momma told us to come and pay your playdate a visit, along with all our friends. Figured we'd give ya a heads up before we came and kicked your ribs in." She paused. "Oh, and Fast-Forward, you're welcome to run away with your little boy there, but I'm probably faster." There was another voice, a young man's. "I thought we were White Knight and White Bishop?" "Hush."

Corona "I... I can't believe you made plans to kill all of us," Serena said, her throat tight. Adrian stared back at her, looking obviously unimpressed. "And what was this visit about, huh? I'm going to guess it wasn't just because you wanted to let me know what was going on. Your powers are dangerous, Serena. If you had used your powers instead of just hitting me, you would have taken my head off, because my skin isn't tough enough to take a grenade like yours is." Serena frowned at him, but she didn't really have any obvious rebuttal. She looked down at the floor. She had always known Adrian to be pragmatic when it suited him, but this seemed cold, even for him. Her eyes drifted to what Richard called 'compound P.' The knowledge that it could very well kill her former friend sat poorly with her. She promised herself that she would do what she could to ensure something else was used instead. But on the other hand, what had Heather done? What had she become that she made Adrian react this way? Would she even be able to recognize what had once been like family to her?

Corona Serena nodded to Sandman, and headed inside the pub. Immediately, she was hit by the tacky, super-pseudo-Irish theme of the place, and she felt her eyes roll involuntarily. She had played a lot of venues like this and they were always the absolute worst. She headed up first to the bartender, a young woman with blonde hair all done up, a red flannel shirt and a curious eye that followed Serena as she approached. She seemed older than most of the clientele. Late 20s, definitely. Probably a contractor. "Hey there," Serena said. "Was wondering if you had any information on the attack that happened here." The woman sighed, shaking her head. "They've asked me not to talk about that. Freaks people out." Serena analyzed the woman, and watched where she was looking at her. She decided she was going to go ahead and take a chance. Only a minor chance this could backfire. "Ah, I get it," Serena said, holding up her hands placatively. "I don't want to cause you any trouble. Us working girls gotta stick together." She paused, and then smiled at the girl. "You know, that's a really cute shirt. Where did you get it?" The woman looked at her quizzically for a moment, before looking down at it. "Oh, uh... Second hand store." Serena nodded, then smirked. "Hey, I got this outfit at second hand store too. We might shop at the same place." The bartender snorted and giggled. "Wow, okay, super corny," she said, rolling her eyes and smiling. Serena's smile grew wider, and she locked eyes with the younger woman. "Got you to laugh, which is all I needed," she said with a little shrug. The bartender sighed, and leaned down, bringing her face close to Serena's "Okay, it's super clear what you're doing." Serena giggled. "I am pretty sure it's working though." The woman sighed dramatically. "It is," she said, before her voice got low. "Okay, look. I was there that night when it happened. It was just after last call, and this chick was stumbling out, pretty drunk. I was just getting ready to clean up when I heard some screaming. I, and some of the other people on that night, ran out to find her just sort of looking around, big wide eyes. I didn't see it, but one of the waiters, Nick, he said he saw someone all in black running away. Campus security wasn't able to get him, though." Serena nodded, writing all this down on a little notebook she kept in her jacket pocket. Once she was done, she pulled out a twenty, and handed it to her. "A tip for the tip. And if you can point me towards Rick, I would really appreciate it." The bartender nodded, pointing over at a young man with wild brown hair and massive sideburns serving a group of students and checking one's ID. Serena nodded. "Thanks, and have a good afternoon." The bartender nodded. "You too."

Corona is going to use her Attractive trait to boost her diplomacy and flirt with the bartender for information. 1d20+14 = 25 means it is a huge success.

GM Rachel looked at them seriously, quirking her mouth. She looked down at the coffee mug in her hand, apparently looking at her reflection in the coffee, distorted as it was. "Mm," she mumbled. "Okay," she said flatly. "Ugh. Come in." For Paige's part, it was surprisingly hard to read anything from Rachel. There was something causing psychic interference. Pressing a little harder, she could find that Rachel's brain was not entirely organic anymore, and something with how it worked messed with attempts to read her brain. Still, she gave no signs of being controlled, yet. Rachel walked back into her kitchen. It was beyond state of the art, covered in unbranded gadgets and gizmos. On the wall was a photo Lynn would recognize as a picture of Rachel and Mia, albeit a Mia that was much younger than now (about 6 or 7), with Mickey Mouse in the middle and both of them wearing mouse ears hats. "If you're hungry or thirsty, just say 'Garvey, can you make me x, please?' and he'll make it for you." Garvey's voice chimed in. "I am sorry, I don't know what X is. Can you rephrase." Rachel groaned. "I was just... Nevermind." She looked back at the others. "So. Heather. She's back?"

The Meta-Naut Raya stared up at the woman on the horse, and internally, she was screaming. No, anything but a Norse hero, she thought to herself. AAAA, and the horse talks too! She had encountered Norsemen before, especially in the world where the Vinland colony had been much more successful. And they always spoke the same way. Why? She didn’t know. “Uh, hey,” she said, taking another puff on her vape pen and blowing a large cloud through her nose. “Cool horse.” She looked down at the woman’s hand, then at her own full hands, before setting down the bag of burgers and shaking her hand. “Yo. I’m Raya Wells. And yeah. Encountered a weird dude with a big sword and a crazy beard in a trenchcoat or whatever who told me that the game I was about to buy had ruined him or whatever.” “Then he disappeared,” she said. “Like faded out of existence. Also I think only I could see him?” She looked to the burgers. “I think your friend was under the impression he was uh… Like you. Which, like, no accent or anything and wearing modern clothes. So probably supernatural, but not… You know. Northman.” “So… Yeah. Probably cursed video-game, and a ghost man. Or I could just be going nuts, who knows.”

Corona Serena stared at Adrian, her eyes widening for a moment. She looked at the grenade, then at Adrian. Then at Richard. Then she looked back at Adrian, and with a wild expression, she hauled back and punched Adrian in the face with all the force she could muster. Adrian stumbled back, looking a bit stunned as blood ran from his nose. He ran his hand over the area, and then looked at the tea he had just spilled, before sighing. "I understand you're upset, but I had to take precautions in case she sent one of you after me."

GM Adrian stared at Richard for a moment and sighed through his nose. Then, he picked up a tea cup. "Alright. Come with me. And tell your friend to come inside," he said, before starting to move down the hallway. He walked to a small bust of what appeared to be Julius Caesar, and tipped back the head, revealing a little button underneath. He pressed it, and the wall suddenly gave way, sliding open to reveal a corridor. He wasted no time in stepping in, walking down. All along the walls of the corridor were pieces of costume and clothing. Most of them looked like they belonged to super-villains, with dark colours and flashes of sinister looking symbols, but some were ties or scraps of a fine suit. Most of them had a small hole in them, surrounded by a tell-tale scorch mark. Others had cuts, some seemed to be stained by a strange chemical. Finally, he came to a small screen. He placed his thumb down, and leaned in. "Brutus Protocol," he said into a small microphone. Then another panel opened up, revealing four objects. Above each one was a nameplate: Revolt, Heathen, Beastfreak and Tantrum. The one under Beastfreak was empty, and a little digital readout said 'deactivated: unnecessary.' Under Revolt's was what looked like a gas grenade, while under Heathen's was what seemed to be a strange mechanical device marked "EMP". Tantrum's, however, was simply a set of vials and syringes. He walked forward, and grabbed the vials, handing them over. "Okay. If you inject her with this solution, it'll cause her powers to go haywire. It'll cause a psychic surge that will... For lack of a better term... Make the part of her brain that makes her psychic detonate." Serena stared at Adrian. "...Wouldn't that kill her?" Adrian nodded. "There's a good chance, yes. Could also cause severe brain damage." Serena looked over at the one marked Revolt. "And what does mine do?" Adrian hesitated for a moment, before sighing. "Your powers are based on crystals in your blood. Inhaling the gas in that grenade would make them coalesce in your arteries and send you into cardiac arrest."

Corona Serena stared at Adrian and realized that he had changed more than she had thought. He had always been an example of over confidence, and would never let anyone see that crack. At least, not without lashing out afterwards. Still, she worried that it was only a matter of time before he did. "I... I'm sorry, Adrian, I didn't realize she had..." She walked forward, slowly at first. Then, she gently took one of his hands and clasped it between hers, holding it there for a moment. She had been expecting a little resistance, but received none. Instead, Adrian was simply staring at her. "...She recently manipulated my brain too," she said softly, stroking the back of his hand with her thumb. "It sounds like she did a number on you, and I am sorry for that. If I had known, I would have been there for you. But you can't... Take whatever she did and apply it to everyone with her powers." Then, she felt Adrian tug his hand out of hers, and looked up to see him glaring at her. She frowned. "Ad--" "Save it," he said. "Do you think I want to hurt every psychic? No. I know there are good ones. I'm not crazy. But... I have to take precautions against the bad ones, because I am never letting anyone do what she did to me again. I will die before I let that happen." Serena stared at Adrian, trying to think of what exactly Heather had done to make him this way. Whatever it had been, it had made scars deeper than she thought possible on him. She felt sorry for him, something she never expected to feel. She remembered the fights that he always started, the insults. This didn't seem like him. But then she thought about Paige, and Holly, and wondered just how much collateral damage Adrian was willing to deal with to defend himself. Adrian stopped, and then turned. "Water's done boiling," he said, before starting to head back towards the kitchen. Serena didn't even try to stop him. After a few minutes of tense silence, Serena watched Adrian return with a china tea set on a tray, before setting down little Asian-style tea cups and filling them up with an orange looking tea. "It's Jasmine," he said flatly. "Good for you." Serena noticed that Adrian's gaze was rather firmly locked on Richard, and she tensed up, getting ready to intervene if she had to.

GM There was an audible sigh from the kitchen, and then the sound of something ceramic being placed down on a countertop. Adrian emerged from the kitchen not long after, looking particularly tired. He leveled his gaze at Richard, frowning. “You know, Mr. Cline, super powers are fairly terrifying, especially when you’re trying to run a government,” he said. “We’ve been blessed, really, wit h how many people with powers have opted to use them selflessly, without any expectation of profit or political power. But, for illustration purposes, let’s just… Imagine something for me. Let’s say there’s a person with powers… Very similar to yours. Speed. Can move incredibly fast, to the point that any vehicle we can make can’t catch up. Let’s say this person with super-speed is politically disenfranchised, and angry at… Let’s say, United States Congress.” He leaned against an armchair, folding his arms. “Four sitting US presidents have been killed in office, eleven United States congress members have been killed with guns. Which, guns can be screened for. But let’s say that speedster does it. He doesn’t need a gun. He can just race on in there, and let’s say he’s durable enough to strike someone at his maximum speed with his bare hands. If he can keep up momentum, he could pull off one of the largest mass-political assassinations in history. He doesn’t need a weapon, he is the weapon.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “But… The reason that hasn’t happened is because of contingencies. You can prepare for a speedster. They’re obvious, their powers are physical. They can be hampered. And most of them aren’t bulletproof.” “But psychics… They’re not so obvious. Yeah, okay, you can convince a guy to turn himself in. But there are political groups out there that see use of nuclear terrorism as a valid form of political action. Now imagine one of those groups out there managing to get a whole group of these people, rare though they are, and they can start subverting officials in a nuclear power to their will using the exact same powers you used to make that guy turn himself in. Sure, you could probably figure out something was up with some of those officials, but all of them?” Serena frowned deeply at Adrian. “That is beyond unlikely, and you know that. There are ways to deal with that.” Adrian shrugged. “Yeah, unlikely. Not impossible. Definitely not impossible. And that’s what scares governments. That’s why they hire people like me.” “And… On a more personal level, the other thing that scares people about psychics is that it’s a violation. It is seizing your bodily and mental autonomy on a level that is incomparable to literally anything else. It is reaching up into you into places that only you are supposed to be in, and taking control from you.” “Have you ever been controlled by a psychic, Mr. Cline? Have you ever been forced to thin kthoughts that aren’t yours? Made to feel things that weren’t from within you, but put there by someone else, and you didn’t even realize until later? I mean Wu, God, Wu. He’d gaslight you, yeah. But what Heather did… It’s like nothing else.” There was actual moisture forming at his eyes. “There are still days when I’m not entirely confident that the thoughts I am thinking are my own. I only barely managed to break away, and even then, I’m terrified it’s some fluke.” He slumped his shoulders, then straightened up again. “So maybe I have a good reason for wanting to defend myself from people like her.”

GM The former police officer looked up at Rebellion, brandishing a crowbar as he was called to. "Hey, whaddaya wa--" The man was stopped dead in his tracks by the burst in fear, his eyes going wide. "W-wh-whoa!" He stammered, before dropping his crowbar and turning and running away as fast as his legs could take him. He ran aimlessly down the street, before turning down into an alleyway not far ahead. The commotion drew a few onlookers, some of them looking like they had been hit by the Crime Gun just like him. However, they did nothing yet, instead simply watching and waiting to see what happened.

It is a success! Good job, you scary man, you.

Meta-Naut "Who knows. Maybe he's not from this world," the Meta-Naut joked. Once he started moving, the Meta-Naut was not far behind, taking off into the air and moving at a steady speed, making sure to match Rebellion so neither he nor she got left behind. As she soared through the city, it occurred to her that she found Emerald City pretty beautiful. Of course, she'd been to more beautiful places, but she was pretty content with the city she lived in. When they finally got to the precinct, though, the thoughts of beauty had faded. The police station seemed to be going through a bit of a problem at the moment. The windows had been busted out, and the doors had been spray-painted. One of the culprits was still there, casually breaking windows of the cop cars and rooting around inside. He was dressed like a stereotypical menace, wearing a torn denim vest, combat boots and had his hair shaved down to a shiny head. But the Meta-Naut recognized him instantly: It was the cop who had talked to them back at the crime scene. "Aw, crap," she said, landing. "...Do you still wanna go in?" she asked Rebellion.

Meta-Naut The Meta-Naut quickly finished the last few bites of her sandwich, and discarded the paper and cola can. She looked over at Rebellion, smirking. "I've been across the multi-verse and let me tell you, the Crime Gun is probably one of the less weird things I've seen. There's a universe out there where everyone's a talking goose, one where all ancient greek theories about physics are true, and another one where all the water turned into blood and so everyone willingly turned themselves into vampires. Bunch of strange stuff out there," she said. "As for what it did to the hero in the book... Yeah, nothing. He was just like 'ha-hah!' and Captain Crime freaked out when it didn't work. It was only explained in one of those little narration boxes. So yeah, probably got hit with the Death Ray, which is super rude." "And... yeah. I'll come along."

Meta-Naut The Meta-Naut nodded, and began flipping through the scans on her smart phone. The art style was crude, the lettering inconsistent. Jeez, no wonder these guys went out of business, she thought to herself. The story seemed simple enough. At least until a particularly weird ending. "Huh," she said. "So. Apparently his 'Crime Gun' basically uses 'evil energies' to turn people into criminals. But it doesn't work on the hero he is fighting in the book was an ex-criminal himself. Don't know how that works. Looks like outside of being able to turn people into criminals, his gun can also be a death ray and can also reverse polarity and turn criminals into upstanding citizens. But uh... The issue kind of ends on a weird cliff hanger. He gets beaten, but he escapes, and promises he'll conquer the future before stepping into this weird machine. Uh... Oh! He also has this sidekick. Ms. Demeanor." The Meta-Naut shrugged. "Looks like there's no obvious way for him to escape without his gun, honestly."

Connor manages to keep up with the lip reading, but Kombat isn't saying anything, instead just quietly going about making tea.

Adrian's library seems primarily focused on meta-human threats, and more importantly, how less powered individuals plan to take them down. Some highlights include proposed tactics involving aerosolized lubricants to deal with speedsters to take away their traction, theories on a railgun powerful enough to puncture the skin of paragons, and a failed, but tested device meant to induce grand mal seizures in psychics. There's also a lot of books going into how and why powers work. Other topics include geopolitics, dealing and coping with abuse (including a highlighted section on not blaming fellow victims), and one book on pet care.

Corona Serena marveled at how little the man had changed in all these years. The comment about slowing ageing had caught her off guard, though. Some things finally clicked in her head. She had just assumed that she had really good genes, but it had been a little strange that she hadn't change at all since she was... what? 25? No wrinkles, no grey hairs, nothing. Seeing Adrian now, hearing what he said confirmed things. Her stomach suddenly felt even worse. "Uh... Yeah," she said. "I guess so... So, you know why we're here, right?" "I can guess," Adrian said, moving further into the house. Serena followed dutifully. She noticed quickly that the interior was as white as the exterior, only brought to life by the occasional potted plant or abstract piece of art. Once she started seeing furniture, it was all bare steel and glass. It reminded her of what she thought a rich serial killer might live in. Which, given Adrian's profession, she supposed wasn't that far off. As they made their way to the living room and Adrian disappeared to the kitchen to make tea, she saw the first piece of wood in the form of a chestnut bookshelf. The books on it were in various languages, none of which she could read, but she did recognize Arabic and what she thought was Chinese on it. The few books in English she saw had titles like "The Progression of Power: Are Metahumans Getting Stronger?" and "Taking Back the Reins: How the World's Militaries Plan to Deal with Metahuman Enemies." She frowned deeply, and mouthed 'what the heck?' to Richard. It appeared that Adrian really loved his work. "Uh... So... We're here about Heather. She's back, and working with Wu." She heard a loud sigh from the kitchen. "I thought as much," replied the voice from the kitchen. "...We'll talk about it in a second. Settle in."

The Meta-Naut Some time later, Raya emerged from the A&W chosen as their meeting poiny, slurping on a root beer and carrying a bag of burgers. She realistically should have just bought one, but she wanted something on the trip home. She didn't know what the Canadians did with their burgers, but it was magical. She rested against one of the outside tables, and set down her drink, looking up at the sky. She figured it was a safe bet that the hero would come from the sky. They usually did. To pass the time, she pulled out her vape pen, and began to puff on it. She wondered what kind of heroes Canada had. Super-Mounties? Power Puffins? Lumberjacks with Magic Axes? Honestly, from what she'd seen of Halifax and Toronto on her trips, she figured being able to drive like anything other than a psychopath would probably count as a superpower up here. Eh, she was probably being unfair. Canada definitely had all sorts of superheroes, just like America. Probably.

GM Standing in the doorway was Adrian Pike, looking younger than he had any right to. He was dressed in a simple white dress shirt with buttons low enough to see the definition in his chest, and grey slacks. With his wavy blonde hair, chiseled jaw and blue eyes, he looked alarmingly like Dacre Montgomery in Stranger Things. He looked at Serena, folding his arms. "So you got the slowed ageing too," he said. Then his gaze shifted to Richard, his eyes narrowing for a moment. "And you brought a speedster. If you were planning to fight me, I think announcing yourself was a terrible idea." He pushed out his lower lip with his tongue, before leaning against the door. "So, do you two want tea?"

Corona Serena waited for Archer to get in position, before looking at the intercom in front of her. She felt her breath catch in her lungs for a moment, and realized she was deeply anxious. Who wouldn't be? She had only not seen him for almost a quarter of a whole century, and last time she did, she was letting herself get caught so he and the rest could get free. She walked up, and pressed the buzzer. "Uh... Adrian? It's Serena. It's been a while, bu--" She was cut off by the sudden opening of the door, behind which she saw a face that had not changed all that much since she had last seen him.

GM Garvey chirped and whirruped, before letting out a sharp little ding! "Paige Cline! How interesting. I will let her know that you're here." Then, the red dot seemed to swivel and focus on Facsimile. "Oh, and don't worry. I am actually programmed to blast anyone who asks me to open the pod bay doors with a small jet of water." There was a brief silence, before the door swung open, and there stood Rachel Morgan. Much of what could be seen of her was metal - namely her arms and neck, but her face was completely human. Her skin was dark, her black hair in a wild afro, while her brown eyes were warm and full of life. She smiled broadly at them. "Well hello there," she cooed, clutching a coffee cup in her right hand and toying with a pen between the index and middle finger of her left. She turned the pen and pointed at Paige Cline. "Not very often I have a TV star show up to my house. And a whole menagerie! Superheroes." She paused, then a look of concern crossed her face. "Nothing bad's happened to Serena, has it? She told me she was doing the hero thing and this looks a lot like when those military folks come to inform next of kin."

Meta-Naut Some time later, they found themselves on the patio of a local sandwich shop. The Meta-Naut had offered to pay for everything, of course, and wouldn't take no for an answer. She ended up getting herself something with roast beef and sun-dried tomatoes, along with some sauce from Argentina she had trouble pronouncing. She was about mid-bite when she finally got the call. "Oh!" she declared, mouth still full. "Oh crup!" She tossed the sandwich down into its basket, and washed down what she could with her bottle of cola. Then, frantically, she answered the phone. "Heyyy," she said, trying to sound smooth. "Hey," Rebecca replied flatly. "So, got some news. Cross-referenced a whole bunch of nationwide databases, and got nothing. No criminal records referring to anyone called 'Captain Crime.'" "Oh," the Meta-Naut said dejectedly. "Hey, hey hey," Rebecca interjected. "Hold on. I still have something for you. What I did find is that there was an old, 60s era comic book imprint that had a character named Captain Crime. His whole gimmick was he could turn other people into criminals with his Crime Gun. He could even have been based on a minor super-villain from that time. Databases don't cover everything." "...Huh," the Meta-Naut replied, sipping her drink. "That sounds like our guy." "So, I guess you have someone mimicking this old comic book character's gimmick," she said. "Yeah, I guess so," the Meta-Naut said. "Anyway, I'm sending you some scans of an issue he appeared in. If the guy is copy-catting him, maybe he might try one of his schemes, too. Anyway, it's about time for lunch so I'm gonna let you go after the images go through." The Meta-Naut nodded, seeing a few texts arrive. "Alright, I got'em. Go eat lunch." With that, the conversation ended, and the Meta-Naut looked to Rebellion. "Well, I got something weird. Turns out this Captain Crime guy might be stealing his whole gimmick from an old character from comic books. I got the scans of an old issue, maybe he will try and recreate one of the crimes from the comics"

Meta-Naut The Meta-Naut followed Rebellion, flying up and off after him after he started his leaping. She didn't have much to add to what he was saying - except for the distraction. In all her time as a dimension-hopper, she had encountered quite a lot of pretty ridiculous individuals, and therefore her barrier for "too over the top" was much, much bigger than Rebellion's. "Okay," she said. "Just gimme... twoooo seconds. Going to make a call." She suddenly took off into the air, heading up a good distance away from where she felt anyone would be able to hear her, before pulling out her phone. She dialed the number of Rebecca Wesson, her government liaison and general minder. After only a few rings, the woman answered. "What is it?" Rebecca asked, sounding tired. "Just need a teensy favour," the Meta-Naut replied. "Small one." "...What is it?" Rebecca repeated. "Can you run a database check for someone named Captain Crime? I'd really appreciate it," the Meta-Naut said, trying to sound as sweet as possible. The Meta-Naut heard Rebecca sigh over the phone, then the clicking of a few keys. "Sure," Rebecca said after a moment of silence. "It'll take me a bit, but I will run a data-base check. Should be easy enough to find someone with a nom-de-guerre like that." "Thaaaanks Becky," the Meta-Naut said. "You're a peach." "Don't ever call me Becky," Rebecca replied, before ending the call. The Meta-Naut descended down again, smiling at Rebellion. "Alright, so I made my call. We should be expecting results within the next bit. Hopefully, that'll give us some leads," she said. "If you wanna head down to the precinct, maybe we could get some more info while we wait for that call-back, or... I dunno. Get a sandwich."