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Post by themascura on Jun 20, 2012 15:13:40 GMT -5
As his small battalion of junior heroes- and one dragon- spoke their mind, the martian listened impassively. Each voice, from the prematurely deep to the still adolescent high held a conviction out of place for youngsters their age. He wondered if they really knew what they were volunteering for. He tilted his red eyes toward Robin and considered the dark haired, scrappy young man at the wheel. If any of his temporary squad understood what toll heroing could have on a man's soul, it would be him.
There was nothing he could- or would- do about it, however. Each boy was determined. Each soul would have to pass it's own trial by fire. The best he could do to intervene on their behalves would be to watch and attempt to guide them. Tonight would be the first of many such nights.
As the iron gate of the facility came into view the Martian settled back into his seat, reaching toward the rapidly approaching minds of the gate guards. With any luck, these men would have no telepathic gifts. Still, he used his gift gingerly, touching each mind and using only as much force as was absolutely necessary. By and large most of them would see an ambulance and it's crew, returning from a pickup.
That was the plan, anyway.
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