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"- release the birds!"
"Fuck, no!" Mal hisses. "They're gonna shit all over the place -"
"Yeah," Visi says, "duh, which is the entire point."
Robert pinches his nose and groans. "I click over to Golem for two fucking minutes - what's this shit about releasing birds?"
"The fucking -" Visi groans, frustrated. "What's the name, the stupid birds everybody hates, the drones from the government."
His mouth opens and closes. Nothing comes out.
"Pigeons," Mal supplies. "She means pigeons."
Robert still remembers the call they were sent out on: a runner's report of a living tree attacking everyone getting too close. "You're in a park, of course there are pigeons. That doesn't mean you can release them. They're already fuckin' outside."
"Not these ones, babes," Mal says. "Honestly, looks like they're trying to start setting up for a wedding. There's this fuckoff big crate with a ton of pigeons in it." She pauses. "Tree doesn't like 'em," she adds, as if that's helpful at all.
Maybe it is. Robert connects the two together. "And Visi wants to release them all at once to distract him."
"Yep."
"I don't hate pigeons," Golem says.
"You're a rock. You should hate pigeons more than anybody," Visi says. "Don't they shit on you constantly?"
"I don't like pigeons," Flambae says. "Fuckers always in the way when I'm flying. Come back smelling like burnt feathers."
"Aren't you helping move furniture right now?" Robert retorts.
"Pizza break," Flambae shoots back, audibly smug. He takes a loud bite and groans exaggeratedly. "Man, this food is so fucking good."
"How come that fucker gets two lunches?" Punch Up demands.
"Don't get jealous," Flambae sings.
"I'm not jealous," Punch Up says, clearly jealous. "I can just steal your shit out the fridge, yanno. What've you got today? Paneer? Curry?"
"Hey, stay outta my shit!"
"It looks like a dahl," Coupé offers, partly coming through Punch Up's mic. She's probably leaning over his shoulder again, too-low in that way that looks like it hurts her back but is clearly worth it for the excuse to brush against him.
"I would also like to partake in Flambae's dahl," Phenomaman declares.
"Ey, bitch, nobody's partaking in shit-"
"It got rice?" Robert asks. "Waterboy, we got a beached turtle on the south side of the beach. Caller said they've nicknamed it Wally. Sounded like they're pretty attached."
"Cute," Mal says.
"Can I go?" Prism asks. "I want a picture and I know this kid can't work no angle."
"Uh," Waterboy says. Even though it's happening more often, he still freezes up whenever somebody asks to go with him. "I-I mean, I don't mi- mind. That's cool. That'd be cool."
"Then sure," Robert says.
"Fuck yes," she hisses. "C'mon, get your ass in gear already."
"No rice," Punch Up announces. Flambae growls in a way that Robert knows is a telltale sign of nearly too many button pushes.
Robert keeps his laugh light. "No fires at the college dorms, please," he says placatingly. "And no stealing each other's lunch. I know you two have packed your own anyway."
"You heard the man," Flambae declares, which he only ever says when it's going his way.
"Turtles, pigeons," Prism says, her tracker winding its way to the beach alongside Waterboy's, "This shift got real animal-oriented at the end."
"Dog," Golem says.
"What about a dog, lad?"
"I saw one earlier."
"Girl, we all saw one earlier," Prism teases. "Robert brings his to work every day like they're attached at the hip."
"I have also seen many dogs this shift," Phenomaman says. "And several cats. One of them was an expectant mother. I convinced a nearby homeowner to allow her into their garage. She told me she was very grateful."
A tiny pause.
"You - d'you mean the own- the homeowner?" Waterboy checks.
"No," Phenomaman says. He sounds exactly like he does when he's blinking, trying to find the stumbling block in what he's said. "The mother cat."
"You can talk to animals?" Prism blurts.
"Sure, whatever," Robert mutters. "Just add it onto the list."
It's meant as dry sarcasm, but he does actually tack it on. It's a stupidly long list. Every time he looks at it he reminds himself to be grateful that Phenomaman is on their side; even if some of them are as wildly anticlimactic as superhuman resilience and can speak to animals?? (note: only cats confirmed) next to each other.
"You guys know that an expectant mother cat is called a queen?" Mal offers.
"And the father?" Coupé asks, already invested. Ever the romantic.
"I dunno. Probably a deadbeat. I hear they don't stick around much."
"Oh, Wally, hello," Waterboy coos. "You're very- so cute. Oh wow."
"Speaking of cute," Flambae says. "You'd love this dorm room, Robert. Lots of pink."
"I'm starting to consider booking you a vision test," Robert says boredly. "My suit is blue."
"For now."
"Hey, you touch that shit and it's Royd you'll have to answer to, too."
"Tutu," Golem muses. "Hey, Flambae, your niece's dancing going alright?"
The chest puff is practically visible. "More than alright," Flambae brags. "She's spectacular, you know? Nobody's seen anyone like her. Other girls are scared to go near her."
"That's just because you told her to punch anyone who talked down to her," Visi says. Her voice is strained.
Robert taps through a few cameras facing the park until he gets a halfway decent angle. She and Mal are fine, if a little battered. The tree's faring worse than they are, with branches littering the floor around it, but it's definitely still raring for a fight. And it's hard to get a neutralising blow in on something that has a literal tree trunk where any weak points should be.
Visi pockets her inhaler and disappears again. Ah; just out of breath, then.
"Did you actually do that?" he asks, belatedly hearing what she'd said.
"Do what, bitch? You can't answer slower than Windows fuckin' Explorer and still expect me to get your question."
"Encourage your niece towards violence," Robert teases.
Flambae scoffs. "Of course -" His voice distances slightly. "Yeah, yeah, you're welcome. Or, no. You're not welcome. Quit using SDN instead of actual movers. We got better shit to do." Somebody says something muffled on the other end. Flambae laughs. "Yeah, exactly, like argue over lunch. Whatever. It's a quiet day. Shut up. Bye."
"You guys remember when he used to be a big bad supervillain?" Prism says. It's lucky it's her; nobody else probably would've got away with it.
"Vividly," Robert deadpans. "It was like fighting in an oven. I was convinced I was going to come out tanned as hell."
"That's not how fire works, idiot," Flambae snarks, but it's not as venomous as it would have been once. "And just for bringing it up, your monthly reminder is coming earlier than usual."
"It always comes earlier than usual."
"Now it's happening this week. Keep talking, maybe I can just deliver it as soon as I get back."
"Picking my battles," Robert says, glancing at the two trackers at the beach. "How's Wally, you two?"
"You're asking about the turtle over the literal ent?" Visi interjects, incredulous.
"The fuck's an ent?" Robert throws back. He doesn't mention that they're the ones he's got a feed of. "Just trying to keep with the animal theme."
"Wally is all healed up and heading back to the water," Prism reports. "God, Waterboy did it all by himself, too. It's like I didn't even need to be here."
Robert feels his mouth curl up. "You didn't," he says dutifully.
"Damn. Who'd have thought."
"I li- I enjoyed it. You. Having you with me. Here. Having you - here." Waterboy sighs. "Never mind."
Prism says, "Nah. Not never mind. Fuck it, if I just came back from the beach, I may as well be soaked."
Waterboy's uniform squeaks. So does he. There's the clear sounds of Prism squeezing him harder then letting him go with a few wet pats to the shoulder.
"Now who's got soft," Flambae grins.
"Boy, if you don't shut the fuck up -"
"Hey, Robert," Golem says. "You really don't know what an ent is?"
"Nope."
"You're so uncultured," Visi groans. "How are you hot when you know less shit than Chase does?"
"When his ears start burning, Visi, he's gonna know it's you."
"I also do not know of ents," Phenomaman says. "Are they like ants? Very tiny soldiers?"
There's a pause. Robert can feel the mischief forming.
"Nah, man, they're huge," Sonar says. "And super real." He pauses, clearly aware of how badly he fumbled that lie. "And they eat aliens," he tacks on, as if that'll make it better.
Phenomaman makes a doubtful noise. "How would they get a constant enough diet of aliens to meet their hunger?"
Punch Up snorts. "Seriously? You actually -"
"No, man, no," Sonar says, pinwheeling to continue after unexpected success and clearly not wanting Punch Up to ruin it. "They just gotta, uh -"
"One alien can sustain them for ages," Visi chimes in. Robert can see her, leaning back against the pigeon crate, catching her breath as the wedding planner twitches. She's got a finger to her ear. "And one your size, Phen, man, it probably wouldn't have to eat for decades."
"Robert," Phenomaman announces after a moment, "I am not going near the park until the coast is clear."
Robert rubs at his forehead, pretending the exasperation isn't tempered with amusement. "You'd be fine either way, Phenomaman," he says, aiming for soothing. "They're lying to you."
"How would you know, bitch?" Flambae mutters. "You don't know what one is either."
"Yeah, which is how I know it's not fuckin' real."
"How dare you say I'm lying, Bobert," Sonar says, feigning indignance. "I would never."
"I would," Visi says.
"We all know you would," Sonar says. "I'm trying to maintain my trustworthy reputation, here."
Robert thinks he laughs at that a little louder than he means to. "You lost that a long time ago, trust me."
Sonar huffs at him.
"I really think the pigeons are still a good idea," Visi says. "Hacking it with Mal's sword isn't really working out."
"What are the fuckin' pigeons gonna do?" Mal retorts. She grunts as she puts effort into another swing. Visi's right, though: it's not really doing much, and she barely has time to yank the sword back and get out of range of the remaining branches. "Peck it to death?"
"Phenomaman could use his animal whispering powers to convince them to do something. Right, Phenomaman?"
Phenomaman hesitates, wavering. "While I do trust your word, Robert Robertson," he says slowly, "I still do not want to go near that park. Just in case."
"That's fine, Phen, don't worry about it," Robert says. "Punch Up, Coop, you guys feel like helping out?"
"No," Punch Up grumbles, but he mutters, "Come on, Knives," to Coupé anyway.
"I'm sorry I could not be of more use," Phenomaman says, icon already fading to his mopey blue. Robert stifles a sigh; considering it's a mission Phenomaman turned down, it's a little exasperating that he's pressed his therapist-mandated "depression alert" button about it. But, yeah, whatever. Nobody on this team has the most stellar mental health, himself included, and he's not gonna make the guy feel bad about it.
"Hey, that’s the point of a team, big guy," Robert says instead. "Visi, Mal, do you guys need to regroup?"
"No," Visi says.
"I fuckin' do," Mal says, wiping sweat off her forehead. "Attacking that thing is a fuckin' workout. Visi, c'mere, I heard you take that hit."
Visi offers only a loud, beleaguered sigh as Malevola takes her injuries, as if she has to let the world know that she resents the help she's getting. It's still better than not accepting anything at all.
The tree lashes out after Malevola, branches shuddering, before it begrudgingly settles back into a more natural position. If Robert hadn't been watching it flail around, he'd think it were the same as every other tree there. Well, aside from the vicious hack and stab marks on its bark, the sea of twigs and leaves on the ground, and the felled branches.
"Robert," Mal says, "Update for you. Visi is trying to steal the wedding pigeons."
"Trying?" Prism asks, amused.
"Yeaaah," Mal drags out. "It's a pretty heavy crate. She's having a hard time."
The wedding planner is clearly also having a hard time. They dart in from out of frame, visibly protesting, hands fluttering as they gabble something out. Robert can't hear it through the comms, and the camera is too far for audio even if it had the function, which it doesn't. The entire feed is practically in black and white. It's only because of their stark contrasts to the greens and browns of the park that he can pick out Invisigal and Malevola with any degree of speed.
Punch Up and Coupe are nearly there, but they are on track to come in through the entrance right by the tree. Robert considers it: despite everything, the pigeons would be a very good advantage for the two of them to get onsite.
Well. If Visi can manage it. Mal certainly isn't moving to help.
"Cut it and shut it, asshole," Visi grunts. "Get over here."
"Twenty she can't move it," Sonar says immediately.
Golem rumbles over the line. He's returning to SDN; Robert watches his tracker reroute to pass by the park, but doesn't point out that he could have stopped to help. "Mmm," he says. "I'll take that. She got it."
"I'll put five in," Coupé says. "In favour of."
"Thirty, no shot."
"Nah, nah, I have faith. So much faith." Flambae pauses for effect. "A dollar of faith."
Robert snorts.
"Fuck off," Visi bites, but everyone can hear her smiling.
Robert leans back in the chair. No more calls are coming through this close to lunch, thanks to the overlap crew, so it's just finishing up current missions and chatting. He offers out a lazy, "Ten bucks on you here, Visi."
The call erupts.
"We finally got him, boys!" Sonar cheers.
"R-Robert," Waterboy blurts, almost scandalised. "You - what -"
"Ten! A whole ten!"
Visi's spluttering. "You can't - Robert! Are you sick?"
"Not sick," he grins. "C'mon, you got a job to do. Get on with it."
"Not gonna lie, babes, I didn't think you'd like this plan." Mal remarks. "We are theoretically ruining a wedding here."
Oh yeah. Oops. "Just a little bit of it," Robert says. "Besides, I think a tree with anger management issues would ruin it a little more." He considers it again. The tree had only been attacking people who got close by. "Probably."
"Hey, guys," Sonar says. "You reckon we can get him to bet on more shit? They do say the second hit is better, you know, Bobert," he adds.
"Nobody says that," Mal says. "And stop mentioning hits before you give yourself ideas."
The two of them dissolve into bickering. Sonar is trying to claim that he meant a different kind of hit, but when Malevola puts him on the spot about it he can't think of a single example. Prism offers a stage whisper about music, which sparks Sonar onto videos, which then spirals into everyone furiously telling him to shut up about crypto already.
Robert doesn't realise he's smiling until he stretches and realises Mandy is watching him across the bullpen, eyes soft, lips turned up into a smile of her own.
He ducks his head, immediately sheepish for reasons he can't quite work out yet.
Even from across the bullpen, he hears her quiet laugh.