Angel of Mercy {open}

[Justice, The Cloaked Cavalier]

Justice had successfully escaped from Kahn Tower. But that was the only part of the evening to which the term "success" might be applied. He had made a hash of the whole business, largely due to the effect those weird internal energies exhibited upon his personality.

Though he had found a clue, Basil reminded himself. Perhaps it would yet prove useful in his investigation.

Still, the injury the detective had received was proving a high price to pay for that scrap of information. As he struggled home through the growing light of day, Justice hadn't even the strength to hold his injured arm to stem the bleeding.

He was still blocks away from his rooms when weakness overcame the mouse and he fell into a dead faint in a nameless alleyway, easy prey for any common criminal who might happen by.

[Mechnician]

Gadget tooled along the streets of Epcot City in her brand new vehicle. Well, new was a relative term. It was newly built, but from used parts and cast-off junk.

Anyway, this was the test drive, and she'd chosen a very early start time to get a jump on the day's traffic.

So far, it ran like a charm. Maybe a few bugs in the engine yet, but nothing that couldn't be fixed.

As she rounded a corner, Gadget glanced at a pile of rags in a nearby alley. People really shouldn't litter like that, she thought to herself, before spotting what looked like a rodent's tail.

Could it be a mouse? If so, he might be in trouble.

Without a second thought, Gadget pulled into the alley to investigate. Lifting a corner of the black cape that had pooled like an oil slick on the concrete, she drew in a quick breath. It was a dead body!

No, an unconscious mouse in a mask and cape. He looked sort of familiar. Injured, too, with blood on his arm.

Her first thought was to call an ambulance, but then Gadget paused to think it out. Why was he masked? Probably a super-hero, just like she was. And the hospital employees would unmask him.

She couldn't do that to a fellow hero. But what was the alternative? Take him to her house? That would compromise her own secret ID, at least if the neighbors saw him.

No, there was only one place to take him: to the Overlook.

Once that was decided, the brainy mouse made a quick change into her costume, and it was Mechnician who dragged the stranger into her vehicle, laying him across the back seat. Hmmm...she never thought she'd be driving in her hero identity. She'd have to be careful not to make a habit of that.

Racing to HQ with her unconscious burden, Gadget only hoped her first-aid skills would be enough to save the mouse's life once she got there.

[Justice, The Cloaked Cavalier]

Though Basil's mind struggled to awaken, he remained unconscious of the arms that dragged him out of the alley, that laid him on the vehicle's seat and covered him with his own cloak.

The jolting of said vehicle was, to say the least, not very pleasant as it sped through the early morning streets.

Drifting along in a sea of pain and weakness, tormented by vague feline shapes, the fog finally engulfed him, bringing sweet release at least from the nightmare visions of his late attackers.

[Mechnician]

When she came to the edge of the shore, Gadget realized she had a problem. As Mechnician, she could fly across to the Overlook, as she always did. But not carrying a mouse; she just wasn't strong enough for that.

But the little mouse thrived on such problems. It was a snap to add pontoons to her Rover (made from plastic trash bags), and a broken pinwheel became a propeller. Soon the now-amphibious craft was skimming across the intervening water to emerge on the island HQ moments later.

Now she could drive up to the entrance, no problem. But, was there anyone around to even answer the door?

[El Tirador]

Panchito was just about ready to crack. Why was there nothing to do today? No bandidos to chase, no pretty girls to rescue, nothing! He was getting bored, and that always meant trouble.

So when the doorbell rang, he didn't wait around for Senor Duckworth, the vacquero simply opened the door.

Nobody there? Was this a practical joke? Oh, down there.

"Hola, La Mecánica," he called out cheerily. "Why for are you at the front door?" Didn't she usually come in through that little mouse's hole?

[Mechnician]

"Why for are you at the front door?"

At last! As the huge doors opened, Mechnician didn't hesitate; she drove her little rover right into the main hall, calling to her teammate over her shoulder as she passed.

"I've got a wounded mouse in the back seat. This was the only way I could get him inside." That was all she had time for, as the vehicle hummed along, turning into the living room and pulling up next to the sofa.

For a minute, Gadget had considered putting this guy in her own room, a comfy little mousehole she'd built herself in the upstairs baseboard. But then none of the other Leaguers could help her take care of him, as they were much too big to get even a hand inside her front door.

No, this would be better. The brainy mouse was none too sure of her medical skills beyond basic first aid.

"El Tirador, if you could lift him onto the couch, it would be a big help," she cried out, pulling the cape off the unconscious stranger.

[El Tirador]

"Ay, yi, yi! He does no look so very good!" commented the rooster as their guest was revealed. AT his teammate's request, Panchito scooped up the unconscious mouse and deposited the burden as gently as he could on one of the throw pillows on the couch.

The mask and cape proclaimed el extranjero as a fellow super-hero, a brother-in-arms.

Squinting at the (to him) tiny patient, the rooster continued, "Does he have a bullet in him? I can help you with this." Panchito had learned by experience that a few quick turns of a sharp knife blade would fix that in a jiffy.

[She-Wolf]

All of the disquiet and goings-on in the Overlook's foyer had ended up catching the attention of another Dream League member - one who very rarely decided to make her presence known, at all. Making her way past the large open room was She-Wolf - who, as she nearly always did, looked as if she had very serious business of her own to attend to. El Tirador was not the only Dreamer who had grown restless from today's quiet - She-Wolf, herself, was on her way to the lower quarters of the mansion to see if the surveillance mechanisms had picked up any signs of crime in the city. She-Wolf, some days, often enjoyed having peace and respite, to simply relax by her lonesome in the solitude of the surrounding forests... but today was not one of those days, for her.

As she passed through the foyer, the voices of Mechnician and El Tirador gave her pause - and she tried to remain more inconspicuous as she made her way by them, not wanting to attract any unwanted attention. The two of them were definitely talkative types, especially El Tirador - and San never liked being forced into a conversation, or conversing much at all outside of mission-related duties. However... her keen hearing soon picked up just what they were discussing.

They had found someone, and brought them here. Someone hurt.

The wolf girl stopped in her tracks, her cold face suddenly lighting up with a hint of concern as she looked towards the couch the rooster and the mouse were crowded around. As she inched around the couch to get a better look, she could see that the injured person was, in fact, a mouse.

... A mouse in a costume very familiar to She-Wolf.

Now, she had no reservations about making her presence known. Making haste, she strode swiftly towards the couch, her steps growing slower as she grew nearer. She stopped not far away from El Tirador and Mechnician, but did not seem to pay them any mind yet - her gray eyes were locked on the unconscious mouse clad in black. It was definitely him... the mouse from that day in the mayor's office. She was, at least, thankful to see that he had survived that affair... yet, it seemed he had undergone something different entirely, since then.

Slowly, she knelt down beside the couch to examine him more closely. After a few silent seconds of eying him over, trying to find some sign of what had happened to him, she turned to earnestly look at Mechnician, whom she could gather was the one who brought him into the Overlook. Normally quite forbidding of strangers on the island, she seemed outright worried about this particular mouse, and the typically callous young girl's evident concern over the mouse might have seemed unusual to Mechnician.

"What's wrong with him...?"

[Mechnician]

Peeling back the torn fabric of her patient's sleeve, Mechnician asked her teammate, "El Tirador, would you get the first aid kit from the kitchen, please?"

"What's wrong with him...?"

She-Wolf had slipped into the room silently and completely unnoticed. How did she do that? Well, anyway, it was nice to see the feral hero taking an interest in somebody else's welfare. She always seemed so...fierce.

"It looks like somebody stabbed him with an ice pick. Or something like an ice pick," continued Gadget, answering both of her companions at once. "And I think he might have a fever."

"He must be a super-hero, though I don't recognize him," chattered Gadget while waiting for the medical kit. "Unless...you don't think he's a super-villain, do you?" That was a possibility she hadn't considered before.

[El Tirador]

Panchito headed for the kitchen, as instructed, in search of the first aid kit. He didn't even know they had a first aid kit, but, sure enough, a little bit of searching turned one up.

"This is what you are lookeen' for, querida?" he asked, displaying the metal box emblazoned with a large red cross.

He opened it up and held it for her to take out whatever she needed.

[She-Wolf]

Behind her closed lips, San grit her teeth together and felt a pang at the words "stabbed" and "ice pick". He was a mere mouse... something like that could kill him. The thought of somebody assaulting such a small creature in such a manner made her feel sick - no predator with the intention to eat the mouse would have been nearly so cruel. A fever, as well... San couldn't tell in the least, as she had little in the way of medical knowledge, no less when it came to rodents. She could only trust that Mechnician knew what she was talking about - and, silently, she hoped that Mechnician had an idea of how to help him, as San herself certainly didn't. She may have had brief experience with treating wounds during her life in the forest - but she was much more a fighter than a nurturer.

She-Wolf returned her attention to Mechnician, as she pondered whether or not the mouse was a villain. San was quick to affirm that this was not the case, gently shaking her head. "No. He's a hero," she responded, blunt and curt as ever. The wild woman returned her troubled gaze down towards the mouse in black, as she explained herself. "... I've fought alongside him, once." San had trouble remembering just what the mouse called himself, however... she recalled it sounding rather pompous.

El Tirador soon returned, and San turned to see that he had brought a medical kit - a sight relieving for her to see. The wolf girl remained silent, watching closely to see how he and Mechnician planned to tend to the injured mouse.

[Justice, The Cloaked Cavalier]

Basil could hear voices, low and muffled, as if coming from a great distance. Fighting his way to consciousness, the mouse pried his eyes open enough to see a blurred face close to his own.

Hang it all, those beastly cats had killed him.

As his vision cleared, Basil could make out that what he had taken for a halo was only a helmet. Then that couldn't be an angel after all. If not, then where was he?

The thought galvanized him into action, and Justice sprang to a sitting position. Bad idea, that, as it brought on a good deal of giddiness; his energy quite spent, the patient fell back onto the pillow with a low moan.

No, he most certainly was not dead, for death could not possibly be this painful.

[Mechnician]

"Looks like he's coming around," Gadget informed the others. But then her patient tried to sit up.

"Whoa, I don't think you're ready for that yet. Better just lie down. That's better."

She kept up a sprightly conversation as she worked on the wounded arm. "You're a super-hero, right? So am I. You can call me Mechnician. That's like 'technician,' only with an 'm.' "

"I've stopped the bleeding. Do you want me to try sewing it up? I can sew pretty good, though I've never stitched a wound before. Maybe I'd better just bandage it."

"Oh, and this is She-Wolf and El Tirador. So, what happened to you. Were you in a battle?"

[Justice, The Cloaked Cavalier]

Oh, yes, now he recalled; Basil had seen this female hero in the newspapers, which he regularly studied in his ongoing effort to make sense of this super-hero business.

The gaudily-dressed fowl was unfamiliar, however. Perhaps he was a relative newcomer. That barbarous-looking creature peering at him was another matter. Justice could not easily forget how she had interfered with what ought to have been his first successful case.

His hand stole to his face, making certain that his mask was still in place. It would not do to have his true identity revealed.

Do you want me to try sewing it up? I can sew pretty good, though I've never stitched a wound before

Basil disliked being doctored, even by Dawson. Although he found himself in no condition to actively protest, he preferred not to have some amateur practicing technique upon his person.

"No, thanks all the same. I'm certain the bandages will be sufficient."

So, what happened to you. Were you in a battle?

"I had a difference of opinion with a pair of cats. They wanted to eat me, and I disagreed."

"Where am I?"

Even in his weakened state, Justice scanned the room, what he could see of it, and its occupants, taking a mental inventory of every detail.

[Duckworth]

It was just another normal day of working here in the Overlook for Scrooge McDuck, AKA the Masked Mallard's faithful butler and valet Duckworth. He had just finished polishing the Comet, the Dreamers' street vehicle, in the garage and was coming indoors for a drink.

On his way to the kitchen, he had noticed She-Wolf and El Tirador hovering over the couch for some reason. Picking up on their serious moods, Duckworth came closer. As he did, now he noticed Mechnician was there, along with an unfamiliar mouse who's costuming was reminiscent of a pulp hero like the Green Hornet or Zorro lying on a throw pillow. A first aid kit lay close by.

Duckworth frowned slightly, concerned as to what was going on. The male mouse was injured, so he supposed that the mater of who on earth he was would just have to wait. "Is everything alright?"

[Mechnician]

"Where am I?"

"This is the Overlook, our secret headquarters. Oh. Maybe I wasn't supposed to say that. Oh, well..." After all, the mouse was a hero like them, so, no harm done. "Anyway, I found you back in the city and brought you here."

They were interrupted by Ducksorth's arrival. "This is..." The introduction was interrupted by a slight problem. "Um, I still don't know your name."

Turning back to the butler, Mechnician continued, "I think he's gonna be okay, but maybe, if it's not too much trouble, you could bring him a glass of water? Please?" Gadget never would get used to ordering Duckworth around and preferred to get things herself whenever possible.

[Justice, The Cloaked Cavalier]

"I go by the nom de guerre of Justice." Basil secretly wished he had needed no introduction, but renown would doubtless come in time.

"Anyway, I found you back in the city and brought you here."

"In that case, dear lady, it seems I am forever in your debt." All Basil could manage by way of thanks was to press her fingers to his lips. "You must be a woman of extraordinary talents."

It was rather a novel experience, being rescued by a woman. But the realization of where he was quite drove all such thoughts from the detective's mind.

" 'The Overlook'..." he murmured. Indeed, Basil had suspected the Dream League must have a base of operations of some sort. And now, here he was. The excitement infused Justice with renewed energy, and he propped himself up on his good arm to have a better look at his surroundings.

[Duckworth]

Duckworth did as Gadget requested of him, heading to the kitchen to fetch some water for their guest. He had been about to get a normal-sized drinking glass before recalling that their guest would have difficulty drinking from it. He couldn't say that he had served very many mice before, with the exception of Gadget. Would he be offended if Duckworth brought him back a thimble? Maybe a straw would help him?

He returned with a glass of water, complete with straw, and set them down on the table near the couch. "Here you are, sir." He politely addressed the mouse, who was looking livelier now, taking his surroundings in with great interest.

[Justice, The Cloaked Cavalier]

They have a servant! Common enough in his day but a rare sight in this twenty-first century. This super-heroing must be more lucrative than Basil had suspected.

Not that the mouse was motivated by greed. He only sought to live comfortably as a crime-fighter, rather than being forced to take work in other fields simply to keep body and soul together.

Justice thanked the servant, though he left the water untouched. Mental stimulation was the best medicine Basil knew, causing him to quickly forget the pain of his wounds.

"I say, this is quite a comfortable place you have. Not at all what I imagined. I should very much like to see more of it."

[Sunshine]

The klick-klack of heels drummed a constant rhythm on the floor as Sunshine made her way to the room with the sofas. Sure enough, Sunny/Blondie (depending on the Dreamer and their preferred nickname for her) entered the scene, but she didn't notice the gathering right away. She held a folded newspaper with both hands, and over her purple eyemask was her pair of reading glasses. Even the most mundane items that most Americans took for granted fascinated the Eyvindrian, and she was grateful to learn about newspapers. If only Eyvindria had such a widely distributed means to spread news!

She had heard a conversation as she entered, but she stopped when a familiar male voice complimented the Overlook. Sunshine had a musician's ear, and recognized the voice's owner. The newspaper crumpled noisily as she set it (and her reading glasses) on the nearest counter. She approached the group and the sofa they had gathered to. "Sir Justice?" she asked, confirming her familiarity with him. Her voice, as usual, was warm and soft. "What happened?" She frowned as she peered to him, disturbed by the bandaging. He looked to the others--She-Wolf, Mechnician, and Duckworth--expecting some kind of answer.

[She-Wolf]

All the while, She-Wolf had been silent amidst the goings-on, watching from a short distance as Mechnician, as she always did, excitedly babbled on and tended to the mouse, herself. Sometimes, Mechnician might have talked far too much for She-Wolf's liking... but she was, by far, one of the Dream League members she had the highest amount of tolerance for. She was certainly among the more understanding and intelligent members, and... you might even say She-Wolf found her charming. Cute, even - although the proud feral girl would never openly admit this. She did, however - most likely because of her small size and vulnerability - often feel a strong protective instinct over the young mouse.

She had felt a similar feeling when battling those canine pirates alongside the masked mouse, that now lay injured on the couch before her. She remembered how indignantly he responded to being whisked to safety by her... She-Wolf wondered if he, in fact, was able to hold his own against those pirates - in which case, she would feel very ashamed, indeed, as she'd be every bit as upset about not being taken seriously, herself. She couldn't say... but she simply couldn't have helped herself from doing whatever she could to keep the tiny creature out of harm's way.

In any case... she was thankful to see him alive. She certainly didn't show it, but she was. She was wary, however, about so openly revealing the Dream League's base to the stranger - which Mechnician had almost instantly done - but surely the mouse wouldn't have been awake to see just where he was being led to, before awakening here.

Soon enough, after Duckworth had arrived, another Dreamer appeared in the room - She-Wolf instantly recognized the sound of those heels clicking against the floor. Out of all the members of the Dream League, it was Sunshine who She-Wolf held the most trust in - and who understood She-Wolf the most. Needless to say, more often than not, she felt comfort whenever she was around - although she had her own ways of showing this, and did not smile as she turned to face the girl. Regardless, she was thankful to see Sunshine arrive on this troublesome scene, in which She-Wolf hadn't the slightest idea what to do or say. As it stood, she was merely an observer... but she supposed she was comfortable with that.

When Sunshine mentioned the name the mouse had just told the others present - before Sunshine had entered - the wolf girl's grey eyes flickered with surprise as she stared up at her partner. "... You know him?" she softly questioned in confusion, wondering just where the two of them had met... just how many times had this mouse encountered the Dream League? The worried frown on Sunshine's face did enough to dissipate She-Wolf's surprise, which made way for a more somber, serious look, as she attempted to answer her question. "... Mechnician found him, injured, in the city," she explained, briefly looking back at the hovering mouse tending to Jusitce. "Apparently he was attacked by cats." So, Mechnician's earlier assumption about an ice pick was wrong... and She-Wolf could only assume the cats had predatory intentions in attacking Justice, not malicious. Still... if this mouse couldn't even hold his own against a couple of cats... then who's to say he would have survived that battle with the pirates?

[Justice, The Cloaked Cavalier]

"We meet again, Your Highness," intoned Justice at the entrance of the familiar figure of Sunshine. "Forgive me if I do not rise." How interesting that only she of them all was not wearing her mask. But the etiquette of super-heroes was still very new to Basil.

"It's only a trifling wound, Your Highness. Nothing to be concerned about, really. All in the line of duty, what?"

"Apparently he was attacked by cats."

Justice was not at all pleased with the way the barbarian girl made it sound. So...trivial, as if he were some sort of incompetent. As if they were not fiendishly villainous felines. Actually, Basil would've escaped unscathed if it hadn't been for the way his dashed powers affected his mind at times.

"In fact, I am feeling a good deal better," continued the mouse, sitting up upon the pillow, willing his expression to show no hint of pain, only nonchalance.

[Mechnician]

"Maybe," returned Mechnician, "But you're about as pale as a white rat." Why did men always have to act this way? They thought it was so heroic to pretend they weren't hurt when it was just plain silly.

"Why don't you just take it easy for a little while?" Gadget didn't mind playing the part of a nurse. In fact, she actually liked taking care of people. "Are you hungry?"

[Justice, The Cloaked Cavalier]

"Oh, please, don't trouble yourself on my account."

Actually, Basil was always feeling a bit peckish. His inability to cook combined with the high price of restaurants left him with little more than cheese or bread-and-butter as the staples of his diet. (The memory of the laugh he received from his landlady the day he suggested she might cook for him still stung).

But food was never a priority with him, at least not when there was anything else of interest about.

"Do you Dream League chaps receive a stipend? A pension from the government perhaps?" How did they manage to make this super-heroing pay so handsomely?