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ROGUES GALLERY: Copycat!

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For purposes unknown, the fiendish Dr. Cat has traveled to Silicon Valley, setting his sights on an experimental cloning machine which can near-instantly duplicate the body of any DNA inserted into it! Joining him are the mercenary Treme and the mad scientist Splice!

Can the Detective Prince thwart these would-be thieves before whatever they're planning comes to fruition?

 
((Ah, it's just Prince? In that case, sorry Bp, Gliscor. But it's only fair if I meet him one-on-one. Or perhaps Treme could ally with Prince?))
 
OOC: @Heroic Sociopath; I don't mind. Besides, if you count Drew's summon spirits, it's technically like fighting two people when he's fighting in tandem with one.
 
((Technically I'm on both sides, because I'm a mercenary. Highest bidder, etc. Yah know?))
 
OOC: @Heroic Sociopath; I don't mind. Besides, if you count Drew's summon spirits, it's technically like fighting two people when he's fighting in tandem with one.

((Alright then, if you insist.))

Dr. Cat walked through the streets, a bat hefted over his shoulder. People might have assumed he was heading to a baseball game, were it not for the crimson three-piece suit he wore. Luckily, it was 1 AM. Only a few people were out: Drunks, people working late. And not many around the labs. He took out his cell phone, and began texting Treme and Splice.

"lol guise im at the lab gon steal a clone machine XD"

Or at least tried to. He accidentally uploaded it as a Facebook post.

"lol guise i acidently uploded what i ment to say to you to facebook so check my facebook lol"

Unfortunately, he also accidentally put that on Facebook. Then he remembered that he had asked them to meet him in a nearby alley anyway, so it didn't matter.
 
Drew Vermillion walked up the streets.

He wore a royal blue cardigan and he walked with a sense of purpose and grace that not even adults could replicate. A serious look was carved into his face as he examined the town.

"Apparently." Drew thought aloud. "Dr. Cat has been spotted in the area. No wonder why the local police force wanted to me to investigate such a strange human being. If I remember correctly, the task specified that I investigate Dr. Cat's plans, and put a stop to them with force if necessary."

Drew then sighed. "I hope this isn't as tedious as my last assignment."

With that he continued onward, searching the city for clues among the midnight drunks and workers.
 
Splice stood in the alley. He'd chosen a particularly dark corner to wait in. His eyes were glowing in contrast from the moonlight. He felt this entire plan was hardly worth it. A man on the run had little business booking a flight from Maryland to California, and meeting in an alley was a bit cliche. The cloning machine was of course the only upside. While his former colleagues had succeeded in the field, it was a long process.

The dramatics were suddenly cut off as his pocket lit up and a chiptune rendition of Beethoven's 5th broke the silence. Leonard pulled his phone from his pocket, immediately silencing it. He'd set his Facebook account to notify him of all Dr. Cat's posts, in order to gain more information on the man.

Upon seeing the two most recent statuses, Splice turned around and began to slam his head into the wall repeatedly. A noticeable fracture began to form.
 
Treme walked slowly down the alley, hunching up his shoulders to shelter him from the wind. It was dark. Very dark. But no darkness was enough to prevent this mercenary from finding his employer.

Most of the time, the sorts of people who wanted his services were rich and upstanding men, who certainly wouldn't want to meet anywhere outside their top floor penthouse suites. Most of the time. Apparently not this time, because this Dr Catz fellow couldn't even get his Facebook posts straight.

With a sigh, Treme turned the corner into the alleyway where he was scheduled to meet his new employer. There was someone there, and by the posture, proximity, and shape, it had to be the man called Catz. Not a single bit could be mistaken, even if Treme was using his eyes.

Without so much as a look to tell if it was the right person, Treme spoke quietly, but fiercely.

"What's the plan and what's the payment?"
 
Between the blunt thuds of his skull meeting brick, Splice heard a man's voice. One with a thick accent at that. Can't be Catz, he couldn't pinpoint the dialect but definitely not an American.

"Oi mate, can't be me ya lookin' fur," he replied, mocking the stranger's speech. He turned towards the man and was immediately taken by surprise. "Don't see many of you around," he said, pointing out the man's fur, "Can't be one of mine, my creations wouldn't dare put on a fedora."
 
Treme grumbled. What're the odds of two bio-terrorists with the same height and same build?

He didn't like the man's attitude, regardless. Faster than most people would believe to be possible, Treme's forearm spurs flashed into the open. Six inches of hardened bone-like substance. Strong, fast, and dripping with a debilitating poison.

"Best be careful about who we're referring to, mate," he told the man. "Wouldn't want a would-be deal go south, now would we?"
 
Splice smirked. He debated matching the man's threat, but thought it better not to.

"So the kid's got tricks," he chuckled, not the first time he'd laughed in the face of biotoxins, "You're a platypus aren't you?" The laughter only increased. "Shouldn't your spurs be, ya know, on your legs?"
 
Treme suppressed a growl. He wasn't used to being treated like this. Like an animal or a specimen to be studied.

"If you're not the man I'm looking for, then I'd best be going," he told the guy. "For your sake, I hope you don't find yourself on the wrong end of my scope, mate."

Soundlessly, his spurs vanished into his forearms. He was better than a platypus. A lot better. Superior. Spurs on the arms lets you do a lot more damage.

He turned around, and began to walk out of the alleyway.
 
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