Lucas is still staring past Miss Calculated’s shoulder, transfixed by the recently revealed wreckage of racks, robots, ruined remnants of remodelings, promotional materials, and more. As the elevator doors finish sliding all the way open, he clears his throat before speaking up.
“Hey, uh, Marsha? Are ya gonna be busy the next few days?” Lucas asks in a deadpan voice as he slowly blinks.
“...I guess I am gonna be, now. Seems I’m havin’ a protein shake for dinner tonight. Eheh…” Miss Masher matches Lucas’s tone at first while staring past Miss Calculated’s other shoulder, but she gains a simultaneously delighted and dangerous smile when she starts chuckling. Although, the smile is hidden from sight, courtesy of her mask.
While Miss Calculated is turning around to see just what it is that managed to get such a reaction out of the two powerful dorks, Miss Chievous is the first one to actually exit the elevator.
As a matter of fact, she outright ran out.
Charging over to the edge of the small cleared area surrounding the elevator bay, she grabs a stray disembodied mannequin head with both hands. Holding it up in the air above her own head, she spins to face the others with a delighted, open-mouthed smile that pulls her mask taut.
“CAN I KEEP HIM!?” Miss Chievous asks with unrestrained enthusiasm, looking questioningly at Miss Calculated who just froze in place when she caught sight of the disaster comprising this floor.
Lucas snerks and grins beneath his mask while stepping around Miss Calculated to walk out onto the floor proper. Once out of the elevator, he gently lowers Willy down to the ground, letting him wander around sniffing things as he sees fit. ...Even if he has a silly sock nose that drastically diminishes all of the desired scents.
“Are ya gonna love him, and squeeze him, and call him George?” Lucas asks with a taunting chuckle as he walks past her, recklessly wading out into the debris in pursuit of its headless body that is lying down diagonally just a few feet away.
“YES! I love you, George!” Miss Chievous laughs wholeheartedly upon declaring her undying love. After kissing the head vaguely where its mouth would be, if it had one, she hugs the featureless head against her bosom with one arm while stroking where its hair would be, if it had any, with her other hand. Her mask hardly aided in the affection administration, but it probably helped keep things a bit more sanitary.
This nonsense is enough to thaw Miss Calculated, leading to her being the next one to step out of the elevator, albeit in a much more reserved fashion than the previous two.
“What do you even want a random head fo- IS THAT A COMPLETE WE6127!?” Miss Calculated’s face lights up as she rushes over towards the approaching 23. It’s currently carefully carrying an old rusted service bot within all four of its arms. Oh well for Miss Calculated being reserved.
“Pfft, who doesn’t want to get head? Did you hear that George? She didn’t say no! Oh, I guess you didn’t, you don’t have ears.” Miss Chievous cheers and continues caressing the incomplete mannequin, her tone full of exaggerated disappointment during her final statement.
Lucas nearly lost his footing due to chortling over her crude opening joke.
“Did you just do that entire bit just to make those jokes!?” Lucas asks her between laughter as he carries over and sets down the headless body, complete with its stand, next to her.
Unfortunately for George, its left hand and the entire left leg are missing.
Miss Masher had wandered over to a different edge of the clearing than the others when she came out of the elevator a little while ago. Now, she is approaching Lucas and Miss Chievous with one of her hands behind her back.
“You shouldn’t encourage her like that. But, if you’re going to, anyway, it looks like you could use a HAND.” Unsurprisingly, Miss Masher pulls a mannequin hand out from behind her after making her own joke, and is rewarded with laughter from both Miss Chievous and Lucas.
Unfortunately for George, it is a right hand, and it is a decidedly feminine-looking one.
Not that this stops the three of them from huddling around the mannequin body, attempting to attach it. Miss Chievous sets his head upon his neck, Lucas holds him steady for the two working ladies, and Miss Masher manages to get the hand’s supporting rod to stay inside the opening of the left arm’s wrist.
As the assembly is going on, Lucas cracks a hidden grin and clears his throat.
“We can rebuild him. We have the technology. We can make him better than he was. Better, stronger, faster…” Lucas manages a solid narrator voice until he doubles over laughing, nearly knocking poor George over in the process.
[...You are far too amused by both this, and… when you named it George. I’m going to assume both were… specific references from your world.]
‘Guilty as charged, hahaha!’
Mark has a small stealthed smile as he walks past the three fools, going over to wait beside Miss Calculated as 23 nears the cleared area.
Jonathan continues hiding in the elevator. As the doors start sliding shut, Willy turns to bark at him, twice. With this attention brought to him, Jonathan groans and finally trudges outside, not even attempting to mask his unwillingness to do so as he does so.
He doesn’t go very far. He opts to just step to the side and stand next to the pile of boomerangs on the floor, parking alongside the one large boomerang that is propped up against the wall. As he suffers from the dusty ambiance, he scans through all of the visible sections of his surroundings.
Even though the heaps of junk go fairly high, and there are a few solid walls divvying up parts of the floorplan, there are still a few spots where he can see all the way to, and through, the glass outermost walls, allowing him to overlook the city outside.
Content that Jonathan came out of the elevator; Willy goes digging through some of the random junk off to one side. He tries to bite something, but his improv mask limits his ability to do so.
Pawing at the desired object a few times, Willy barks at Jonathan again. Despite his reluctance, Jonathan walks over and crouches down to see what it is.
Amongst the trash, there is a section of something hard, smooth, and white. Between his curiosity and Willy’s insistence, Jonathan reaches to grab it and pull it out.
It only moves a little bit within the confines of the detritus it’s buried under, and Jonathan has to fully commit to digging it out with his bare hands.
Eventually unearthing it, it is a mannequin leg. It’s even a left one.
Unfortunately for George, it belongs to the same body as George’s second right hand. Adding insult to injury, it is missing its foot, as well.
Willy looks over at the trio fawning over George, wagging his tail. He barks up at Jonathan and tries to bite and tug at the edge of the sleeve of his suit jacket, but he can’t get a grip through his snoot-sock.
Jonathan still understands his objective, regardless. Considering he’s already been sullied, he cooperates; sighing and then carrying the leg over to the others.
Miss Chievous gives an excited “Yes!” when Jonathan comes over with the leg and immediately takes it out of his hands.
When she attempts to attach it to George’s left hip; not only does it fall out a second after she lets go of it, but the matched hand was knocked loose as well. It drops to the ground, breaking off half of its pinky in the process.
Miss Masher, Miss Chievous, and Lucas all bemoan this tragic fate in unison with a heartbroken “No! George!”
-----
Lucas’s total kills: 7
Lucas’s total deaths: 11
Lucas’s total assists: 1
Lucas’s current GDV: 17.38 (+.01 net change)
Lucas’s fame level: 6.0* (Local fame is completely maxed, he’s creeping up on minor celebrity status even on a global scale. Thanks, internet.)
Lucas's hero suspicion level: 2.0*
Jonathan’s total kills: 7
Jonathan’s total deaths: 2
Jonathan’s current GDV: 6.07 (+.01 net change)
Jonathan's fame level: 4.0* (Local fame is near-max, but everyone thinks of him via his affiliation with Lucas, and not often just for him, alone.)
Jonathan's hero suspicion level: 2.5*
Willy's fame level: 4.5* (With how popular he’s become, it’s only a matter of time before people start realizing just how smart he is.)
Mr. Quacks’s fame level: 5.0* (His local and global fame are nearly even, he’s a full-blown internet sensation.)
Supervillain social circle size: 15
-----
Little character theater:
Jonathan, internally crying: I had to get dirty for THIS?
Willy, giving a mournful howl in solidarity with the grieving group: Awooo!
Lucas, looking around the large field of cluttered trash: It’s okay, there are others! We can do this!
427, his emotions more in line with Jonathan’s than Lucas’s: [Why..? Why is this your focus?]
Author, carrying a few mannequin limbs with a huge grin: Here’s hoping that rebuilding George doesn’t cost an arm and a leg! Eh? Eh? ...Okay fine, that was pretty lame.
Mr. Quacks, upside down in a particularly large mound within the garbage heap, looking at George’s proper left hand: Quack!