“Oh, actually, Mar- er, Mash, ya think this dude even understands what we're sayin'?" While Lucas is asking this, he twists the cap off of an artificially-flavored ‘fruit juice’ drink, recently tossed to him by Miss Masher. Then, he precisely throws the cap directly at his pursuer's left eye, earning an inarticulate snarl in protest of his actions.

The overmedicated menace even attempts to lunge at him in retaliation, but Lucas just hops back quickly before resuming the same pace he's been maintaining for a few minutes now.

He's still erratically circling around the cafe’s seating area backwards, occasionally glancing behind him to make sure there are no oncoming obstructions to his path.

Considering nearly every single table and chair had previously been angrily thrown at Jonathan, the majority of the space is actually fairly clear of potential hazards.

Miss Masher pauses in the middle of having a drink of her own, scrunching up her face in contemplation.

"Now that ya say it… No way. He's basically some big dumb overpowered baby." Miss Masher maintained a casual tone while saying this, and doesn't get any notable reaction from the cranky crawler.

'Yeah… I don't think he has the mental capacity to pretend not to notice what she said… Ha!'

"Well, that basically confirms it. Hey Jon! Didya hear that?" After shouting out his question, Lucas proceeds to chug the rest of his drink while his pursuer shrieks a protesting babble at him for raising his voice.

Beverage complete, Lucas yeets the empty bottle into the noisy man's face, getting hissed at in return as the man smacks the offending projectile away.

“Y-yeah! Hang on, I’ll, um, j-join you guys in a minute…” When Jonathan shouts back, their scorned opponent stops chasing Lucas briefly, snapping his attention in the direction that Jonathan’s voice came from.

Lucas breaks out laughing, which regains the zomb-lite’s agro once more.

“Ya know, I think he likes you!” Upon Lucas shouting this out, Jonathan groans, and the other three mentally-present people laugh, which seems to briefly confuse the murderous menace.

‘Oh, yeah, we haven’t actually all made a buncha noise at the same time, huh? And, I fuckin’ swear, I keep expectin’ him to try to bite someone. Ugh, I hope there’s nothing contagious about… whatever the fuck he has goin’ on.’

[...None of the mindless power-granting components should be, no. But, I won’t claim there’s nothing else he might have that is… transferable. But, yes, when everything else is lined up, attempting to overwhelm him with a lot of noise from several sources at once may buy you a second or two.]

‘Gee, are you trying to imply that someone that decided to trip balls in a public restroom might have some other issues, too? Outrageous!’

[...]

As Lucas leads his devoted follower in front of Miss Masher, who is currently leaning against a smashed-in counter, she similarly throws her own empty drink bottle at the mindless man’s head, getting a satisfying thunk upon impact.

After an embarrassing delay, he hisses at it and crushes it, then hurls it at Lucas afterward.

Lucas easily dodges the un-aerodynamic weapon, snickering a bit while doing so.

Not quite a full minute later, Jonathan and Miss Chievous are clearly visible through the vacancy that once upon a time was some of the storefront windows, and they’re walking over to use the main entrance.

While they had been using mostly hushed tones previously, Miss Chievous addresses Jonathan while intentionally letting her voice carry.

“What, you don’t wanna hold me up to help me get through one of the windows?” Miss Chievous is struggling not to laugh as she finishes saying this, and Jonathan’s flushed face is the very definition of an embarrassed teenager.

“STOP!” Jonathan’s raised volume for his protestation earns the mentally-unavailable man’s affections, as well as some cackling on Miss Chievous’s part.

As Lucas and their task target were conveniently by the side of the seating area furthest from the doors, Jonathan has a bit of time before needing to worry about his dear friend getting too close.

Still a bit red-faced, Jonathan holds the door open for Miss Chievous while pointedly looking at anything other than her.

She chuckles as she walks past him, purposely bumping him with her shoulder.

“...It’s a bit breezy, isn’t it?” Miss Chievous muses while walking inside, chuckling quietly afterward.

The real culprit for her chill is the fact that there is a large rectangle of cloth neatly cut out of her pants, exposing the majority of her left outer thigh. A mix of bandages, gauze, and medical tape is covering more of her skin beneath it than not.

Once Jonathan releases the door and walks inside as well, he quickly shrugs his suit-jacket off and holds it out to her, though he is still refusing to look at her.

“H-here. Just for a l-little while. It won’t, um, d-do me any good for now, a-anyway.” Jonathan moreso mumbles this out, rather than clearly stating it.

Miss Chievous stops for a moment, looking at the offered jacket that’s worth more than every single one of her personal possessions put together, and hesitates before finally accepting it.

As soon as Jonathan feels its weight leaving his hand, he lets go of it before fully focusing on the rather rapidly approaching ruffian.

“Oh shit!” Upon Jonathan realizing just how mobile the ankle-menacing man really is, he starts hastily walking away. He doesn’t actively use his power just yet, in order to ensure he doesn’t inadvertently lose his aggressor’s attention anytime soon.

Mainly because then Miss Chievous would be his next closest target. Not that he’d admit that reasoning, even if his life depended on it.

Miss Chievous gives Jonathan an odd look before she looks down at the jacket in her hands one more time, then awkwardly pulls it on while walking in the direction opposite Jonathan’s new kiting path. She’s not able to bring herself to casually tie it around her waist to directly cover the gap in her pants leg.

The process of putting on the jacket involves repeatedly swapping which hand she’s using to carry a plastic bag full of; extra bandages, gauze, tape, antibacterial topical gel, three different cleansers, an antibacterial powder scrub, anti-inflammatory pills, and a full dosage of every single type of antibiotic medication Jonathan could find, leaving it up to Miss Calculated to figure out what’s appropriate for her to take.

The jacket is, surprisingly, not all that bad of a fit for her. At least, up until she tries to button it, which leads to her quietly giving up before anyone notices, muttering something about Jonathan needing to eat more under her breath.

Once Jonathan is confident in his lead in both threat and distance from his nearby patrolling Formido Oppugnatura Exsequens, he glances at the others in the party.

“This is way b-better than before…” Jonathan sighs after saying this, easily maintaining sufficient pacing without using his powers.

Lucas stands next to Miss Masher for a few moments with his arms crossed, watching the ongoing ground-based pursuit.

“I don’t know if I should be insulted, or what? You must’ve left a deep impression on him, kiddo.” Once Lucas finishes saying this he chuckles, and Miss Masher does too.

Across the room, Miss Chievous is grinning before speaking up.

“Because he makes it too fun to torment him!” Upon Miss Chievous shouting this, Jonathan makes an exasperated groan which makes her laugh, causing the powerful person in pursuit’s attention to waver before locking on his nemesis once more.

“O-only if you’re just as smart as him!” Jonathan’s retort makes Lucas and Miss Masher crack up, the floor-tanking foe screech, and Miss Chievous puff up her cheeks with a hrmph.

Miss Masher claps twice to get everyone’s attention, even briefly getting Crawley-McGee’s as well in the form of a hiss, then clears her throat.

“All right, we’ve horsed around long enough. What’re we gonna do? Jon keeps him busy, Lucas grabs him first, I help hold him still, and then one of you two knife him?” As soon as Miss Masher finishes asking this, Miss Chievous waves one of her arms in the air.

“Dibs on stabbing!” Miss Chievous’s enthusiasm makes Jonathan stumble briefly.

-----

Lucas’s total kills: 8

Lucas’s total deaths: 12

Lucas’s total assists: 1

Lucas’s current GDV: 17.43 [Recalculating...]

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: 4

Jonathan’s current GDV: 6.10 [Recalculating...]

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: 5.0* (Another round of the latest memes featuring him and Mr. Quacks has bloomed.)

Mr. Quacks’s fame level: 5.5* (Another round of the latest memes featuring him and Willy has bloomed.)

Supervillain social circle size: 15

-----

Little character theater:

Jonathan, knitting his eyebrows together while still kiting the floor-based fiend: B-but, shouldn’t I do it?

Willy is now in the elevator by himself, after a service bot hit the 7th-floor button for him, on his way to go join Miss Calculated and 23 after deciding he slept enough for now.

Lucas, nodding agreeably: Mm, yes, that’s exactly what I was thinking, Mash.

427, who would roll his eyes if, well, you know the deal: [You mean what Jonathan was thinking, and you simply agreed with what he thought, and didn’t even try to make any sort of suggestions.]

Author, checking on Miss Calculated and 23, discovering that Miss Calculated is nearly done with her definitely-more-thorough-than-necessary examination of 23: Oh good, you won’t have to suffer a conflict of interest upon Willy’s arrival.

Mr. Quacks and Quackette are beak and beak with each other in their confection consumption competition, and things are getting fierce: Quack!