Sunrise Over California (Mission)

[Blake Oleander]

"I wonder how tall that building is."

He'd say as he nudged Deacon in the elbow to point at a random skyscraper off to the side. Away from where the man was watching them. He'd then lower his voice for Deacon's ears only, and he supposed technically David's since he had a comm device in.

"Guy to the right is staring at us. Itching for a fight I suspect."

Otherwise, he'd simply follow Deacon, they were not here for a fight, but since they were a team he felt like he needed to share his observations at least.

[David B.]

As they approached the building, the man stood, and Blake would notice a shift in his eye as shadow seemed to cover it. His eye changed for almost a split second to look like a hawks eye, before the man started walking toward the building that their target was located in.

[Deacon Graves]

Deacon registered Blake's words, but wouldn't respond to them. Out of his peripherals, the blonde man would have taken note of the man his partner had called out. If this failed, he was sure there would be others around this woman that would come to her aid. Hopefully he would be able to convince her to meet them elsewhere. Avoiding conflict was of a high priority here.

Deacon would continue as planned, not skipping a beat after noticing the angsty fella, intending to proceed inside and keep his eyes peeled as he did so. If he could avoid the elevator and take the stairs, he would. Once they reached her floor level, Deacon would stand at the door and turn and give his partner a nod before he would approach it

[Blake Oleander]

Blake would stay silent for now and just follow Deacon's lead. He'd made his partner aware, and it should be obvious that the man was moving now. His job was to not escalate things further.

[David B.]

As they rounded the corner, they'd see the man standing in front of the door, leaning against it.

"Ya know what one of mah powahs are?"

His thick accent was strange, and he's stand.

"It's tah see what othas want. I see ya want mah friend upstairs....but why? What are yah here for friends....?"

He'd start down the steps, his hands starting to glow a little.

"And perhaps ya can find it elsewhere?"

[Deacon Graves]

When they turned the corner, they came face to face with the gentleman that had been eying them earlier. Deacon would halt movements, hands lifting with palms facing the man as if trying to prevent any conflict, before he spoke. "We would just like to speak to Ms. Tig. It's a time-sensitive matter and of upmost importance to our cause. We aren't looking for trouble. Please."

Deacon's icy gaze would fixate upon the man. Hopefully he wouldn't jump right into aggressive action, otherwise he supposed the whole mission could he at risk, along with the lives of his partner and himself.

[Blake Oleander]

He'd stare at the man in silence, his hand staying where it was, away from his blade but his jaw was clenched as he sucked at his gums.

"Then tell me what it is I want."

[David B.]

He cocked a brow.

"To stab your little friend here."

Still, he'd look back to Deacon and he would tilt his head to the side a little.

"And what cause is that?"

He'd stare hard at them.

[Deacon Graves]

"The PAL- I want to help you accomplish your goals and in the process, free myself. I've come to realize that my overseers do not have my best interests at heart.. There are others within the rank that think this way, also."

Deacon's hands would drop toward his side and he would take another step forward, still staring toward the man before them. He had yet to give his partner any attention, but he was sure if this went south Blake was ready to roll.

"I think Ms. Tig would like to hear my offer, at the very least."

[Blake Oleander]

He'd fold his arms over his chest and shrug. The guy wasn't wrong, he wanted a rematch against Deacon without those little shields. But he could control his base instincts at least. He wouldn't add anything though unless he was asked. Deacon was taking lead on this mission.

[David B.]

He smirked.

"You wanna see her...? Alright. Leave your weapons here, and I'll show you up."

He'd gesture to a few others who were around- totally non-suspect individuals. A man in a suit, a girl in a dress selling flowers. Both would approach and hold out their hands for the weaponry. The big guy would gesture at Deacons pack of metals.

"That stays too."

[Deacon Graves]

Deacon would nod, voluntarily grabbing at the buckles, before unclasping them and letting metal sand bag drop to the ground with a thud.

"Fine."

He would say as he turned his head and glanced out the corner of his eye before nodding at Blake, as if urging him to give his sword without conflict.

"We aren't here to fight anyways. So please, bring us to her."

[Blake Oleander]

"No."

There was no hesitation or rise in his voice as he denied his request. It was flat, monotone, almost bored. But for the first time his arm moved toward the sword. Not for the hilt but to put itself between anyone and it. Giving up his blade was not something that he was willing to do. Period.

"This blade is my companion through this life and beyond. It goes where I go and I go where it goes."

They guided each other and even death would not part him as like all warriors in his culture he would be buried with his weapon. They were more than master and weapon, they were a singular being.

[David B.]

The man grinned.

"I see."

The man in the suit to the left would lurch forward and plow into Blake in a full tackle. As Blake tumbled, he'd feel the world start to....slide down. Everything increasing in size to an incredible level. The man in the suit would immediately roll off Blake and away, before increasing back to normal size, all the while the girl with the flowers raising her hands to Deacon as frost would crackle over her hands in case he got frisky. The grinning man would crouch, resting his forearms on his legs as he spoke to the warror. His voice, to Blake, would probably seem super loud.

"There you go, little warrior. See what happens when you let your pride get the best of you? Lets see how much damage that sword can do now."

He'd stand and turn back to Deacon. Blake was now 6 inches tall.

"He'll turn back to normal in thirty minutes. That's how long you have to speak to Ms. Tig. After that, you go. Through the doors or out the window."

It would be up to Deacon to get Blake.

OOC: Blake's size is down to six inches. All physical stats gain +10 until he increases back to normal size.

[Blake Oleander]

As he was tackled he'd reflexively try to roll with the landing and kick the man off of him. The only problem was he was shrinking rapidly even before he hit the ground. Leaving his moves ineffectual and awkward. But once he was shrunk the hostilities ended and he was left on his own. The world boomed around him as the man spoke, but the words while like thunder, were not hard to decipher. His hand moved to his blade, but he'd not unsheathe his sword. Rather he'd let his arms drop, a smug smirk on his lips. He'd won, he could accept this.

"Our honor is more than simply pride. The bond of Master and Blade render us as inseparable as the sky from the horizon. If harm was my intent you'd be laying in the puddle of your lifeblood."

He'd stand as tall as he could muster as he made the trek over to Deacon, climbing onto his pant leg. It would be faster this way.