Before Miss Chievous even has her laughter fully under control, she’s begun distributing boomerangs to everyone present. This includes a small boy nearby who is at the absolute most 8 years old, as well as a man who is most likely his father.

The father had given Miss Chievous a wary look while she was initially approaching them, but it’s hard to feel threatened by a grinning, giggling, idiot carrying an armload of boomerangs. Doubly so when another equally grinning, giggling, idiot is eagerly snatching a few of them away from her and jamming them into the gap between his belt and his pants.

Right after Lucas successfully claims his fifth boomerang from Miss Chievous’s collection, 427 abruptly starts laughing. Before Lucas even has a chance to ask why, he is suddenly lifted off of the sidewalk by a pair of lightly tanned hands casually grabbing him just under his armpits. As he starts flailing around in the air, Miss Masher’s laughter rings out from just behind him.

“HEY! PUT ME DOWN! WHAT THE FUCK!?” Lucas is so caught off-guard by the surprise elevation that there isn’t even an ounce of menace to his yelling while he squirms around in Miss Masher’s grip.

Not only does Miss Masher’s laughter intensify, everyone else, obviously, also joins in. Even the small boy breaks out with a case of the giggles, while happily hugging a boomerang roughly half his height with both arms.

Were Lucas witnessing someone else being held up in this fashion, he would absolutely get a certain iconic song about the cyclical nature of life regarding large majestic felines stuck in his head. Instead, he is far too distracted by being one of the parties involved himself.

He is so distracted, in fact, that he doesn’t even notice the generic chime indicating that a text message was received coming from his phone in one of his suit jacket’s pockets.

Miss Masher rapidly swings Lucas around counter-clockwise by about 160 degrees, with him erratically thrashing about the whole time. He doesn’t quite commit to actually striking her, knowing that she is obviously playing around and it’s not really worth injuring her over it.

Now that Miss Masher is satisfied with the change in position, she gently sets Lucas back down on the pavement of the sidewalk, immediately spinning back around once she lets go of him.

While he’s getting his feet steady beneath him, she takes a few steps closer to Miss Chievous and grabs two fistfuls of boomerangs for herself, managing to snag three with each hand.

“Wait, no! That one’s mine!” Miss Chievous makes clear her claim upon the boomerang 23 had presented to her, reaching over and pulling it back out of the camouflaged cargo pants pocket Miss Masher had stuffed her left hand’s spoils into.

Without coming up with any better way of carrying the chosen boomerang separate from the others, Miss Chievous stuffs it down the front of her shirt, tucking the bottom tip of it into the center front gore of her bra to hold it in place. Considering how large the boomerang is, it’s sticking up awkwardly, with the top arm hanging out over her left shoulder.

Before Miss Masher, nor Lucas for that matter, have a chance to snatch any more boomerangs, Miss Chievous runs off to continue distributing them to the other people present.

Upon receipt of their gifted boomerangs, the Thieves of Elsewhere collectively give thanks and leave to continue going about their day, laughing merrily amongst themselves as they walk away.

Once Miss Chievous has finished handing out one boomerang each to every human in her immediate vicinity, at least to those that didn’t selfishly already claim several for themselves, she heads over to stand in front of 23.

“Here, it’s only fair that you get one too.” While Miss Chievous is saying this, she pulls out the largest of the remaining boomerangs, a two-and-a-half-foot-long one she had, somehow, managed to keep safe from the two powerful idiots’ greedy grasps.

23 hesitates for a few moments, staring at the boomerang, then Miss Chievous’s face, and back to the boomerang again. Once it’s fully come to terms with this unexpected event, it slowly reaches over with its free arm to gently claim the offered gift.

“...Thank you Miss Chievous. I believe this constitutes my very first personal belonging, I will cherish it.” While it is speaking, 23 pulls the boomerang close to its chest, looking down at it for another second before tucking it safely underneath its charging pad.

Lucas, who was creeping around to Miss Chievous’s right side in an attempt to claim additional wooden weaponry, locks up and turns his full attention over to 23.

“You… Well, it certainly won’t be the last one you get. ...Though I won’t pretend to know what you’d even want to own? Hey, wait, how sturdy is your… Shell? Anyway? We could totally get you your own custom-fitted enhanced suit, yeah? I was already gonna ask Mark to work with Dan to make one for Willy, so what’s one more strange order?” Shortly after Lucas began speaking, 23 turns its full attention over towards him.

As if 23 didn’t have enough difficulty processing receiving its first gift, it REALLY struggles to comprehend a proposal for expensive custom attire, designed for it exclusively. During its few moments of processing, it glances over at Willy, who has trotted over and eagerly barks up at Lucas once in support of his own prospective suit.

“That… That should not be necessary. The entirety of my chassis is a high-grade alloy, it should be more than sufficient for any tasks you require of me within your headquarters.” As 23 declines the valuable offer, Lucas could swear that there is a trace of reluctance in its voice.

‘Oh? So 23 does want it?’

[I’d hazard a guess that yes, it seems like it.]

“Oh, actually, I figure there’s only so much work you’d have to actually do inside the HQ, we’ll probably end up sending you out on errands sometimes too. I bet you’d be a lot safer wanderin’ around than Clara, an’ the suit would help with that, yeah? I don’t wanna have to go run around personally for stuff if I don’t gotta, and, I shouldn’t just always make Jon do it. Oh, but we gotta get you a chip if yer gonna carry money around, yeah? Besides, that way I can just pay you for workin’, and you can go and buy your own stuff.” While Lucas casually drops this multi-hit combo, poor 23 nearly short circuits.

Judging by the expression on Miss Calculated’s face, she effectively short-circuited as well.

-----

Lucas total kills: 7

Lucas total deaths: 11

Lucas total assists: 1

Lucas current GDV: 14.71 (+.01 +.01 +.01 = +.03 net change)

Lucas's fame level: 4.50* (Beyond just local, viral meme tier. Local levels are extremely high.)

Lucas's hero suspicion level: 2.25* (More than just passing suspicion for some paranoid individuals, even more people are realizing he's an impulsive idiot)

Jonathan total kills: 6

Jonathan total deaths: 2

Jonathan current GDV: 5.25 (+1 +.01 +.01 = +1.02)

Jonathan's fame level: 2.75* (Mostly just local)

Jonathan's hero suspicion level: 2.75* (A few paranoid individuals are suspicious)

Willy's fame level: 1.5* (Anonymous meme fame, local fame primarily as 'Xenoclast's dog', but some strangers know him as William/Willy now)

Supervillain social circle size: 14

-----

Little character theater:

Jonathan, sneering down at the pile of three unconscious men at his feet, retracting a utility knife and pocketing it. A figure of a young woman that is colored exactly the same as the filthy concrete crawls a short distance and then stands up, her body and hair changing to match the brick of the wall as she starts to run away: Fucking creeps… Hey, um, w-wait miss, you f-forgot your clothes! Um, a-are you friends wi- Why are you guys running from me? You saw how fast I am! Tch, you’re welcome...

Willy, circling Lucas’s legs a few times, then rubbing the side of his head against one of his pants legs: Bark!

Lucas, smiling down at Willy: Heh, guess yer lookin’ forward to havin’ a suit too?

427, pausing for a moment before speaking up: [...You do realize that saying you want 23 to occasionally represent the organization while unsupervised, and, not only giving it its own personal ID chip, but also paying it wages, is a really big deal, right?]

Author, snorting with a wry smile: Bold of you to assume Lucas put any real thought into it, 427.

Mr. Quacks, wondering how long until he starts earning royalties from the organization due to it using his glorious appearance as its mascot: Quack..?