[attr="class","castleonthehill"]The quirk didn't even think to shrink away from Gadget before she was reaching up to touch it, and had she been a bit taller, she might have even reached it. Neither it nor its creator could recall a time someone looked at its form — its features stitched over its form, as though it had torn open where its mouth and eyes would become — and chose to approach it, let alone with such elation.

Pundit looked from Gadget, who bounded away onto their explanation, towards Grinta, who, after a brief moment of pause, turned to the creature with a shrug of her shoulders.

"Don't know what shou're looking at me for; I wouldn't get it any better than shou do."

Though her lips didn't move and her gaze recentered on Jaida, her voice rang through her mind and back out through the quirk's, a complete circle between the two.

"Figured ya might get it before I did's all."

"Mm-mm, nothing from me... But it's intere'ting."

"...Yeah." Though their thoughts were kept inside, the quirk offered a grin towards Jaida regardless of explaining why as she continued with her excitement. "Worth the trip, at least."

She wanted to look the part of a hero. And, more to the point, Gadget wanted to act the part; she wanted to save people from the dangers of the world, and she wanted to make it easier to be trusted by the average person who might need her help. If it did come down to blending in and operating by that same intention of saving people, Grinta couldn't fault the logic. If that truly was her goal, there would be no better way to handle the optics; but for Grinta, who hid her form beneath a cloak and her features behind her mask, she crossed her arms over her chest. Her cloak twisted to hold the gift close.

"Shou would be a better di'traction, that's pro'ably true." Her arms wrapped around her abdomen, with her hands holding onto her sides as she folded inwards. "And shou would pro'ably look like a 'ero, too, but I 'till don't think I under'tand fully. Shour goal i' to 'save' people, shes? Shou want to pull people out of danger — but why do shou want to do that, of all the things shou can do? Why do shou want to do it the way 'eroes do it?"

Grinta paced further around the shop. While Pundit stuck around, floating around Gadget with its petit, unnecessarily flapping wings, its creator kept moving about the cats and displays.

"Shou said shourself that the characters a'e based on per'pective, shes? Then what about the per'pective of the people who watch them battle on their homes? They look up to see the fallout of their 'quabbling, and they lose more than any of the warring parties, — to who are shou the 'ero, shou know? Doe' looking the part of the'e things instill those feelings in the people shou want to save?"

[attr="class","castleonthehill"]The sounds of the street whisked along the concrete and asphalt pathways; the clicking of feet underneath, the almost forgotten buzzing of lights, and the occasional car that drove by. Only a few people would have been here on this night; for any other reason, especially for one more prevalent than the rest, the street would have been drained of its traffic. But tonight, amongst the sounds mixing together in their slumbering sound, a source of laughter pierced through it all. A drunken, giggling laughter, matched with the swirling sound of liquid in a bottle, rang atop one of the nearby corner stores.

Balancing along the ledge of the building, a not-too-great of height distancing herself from the pavement, Grinta raised a bottle to her lips. Or, actually, was it Hel who took to the glass tonight tonight? Miss G, perhaps? As she pulled the drink away, she couldn't help but laugh; how many more names was she going to have by the end of this all? How many more could she need? Maybe she ought to see how many more aliases she could snatch up — she dared dread as a historian might over her bibliography if she lived long enough to gain such notoriety as to deserve one.

Her usual mask had been pulled up just enough to expose her mouth. While the rest of her was hidden away behind her usual vigilante garments, she kept tilting back the bottle. Below her, at the street level, a small crowd had gathered. Most people passed without much word as to the drunken vigilante airily laughing to no one in particular, but a select few — especially the ones hired to work this unfortunately perturbed convenience store — shouted up to her.

"Get down from there," one shouted, "we don't get paid to deal with bums like you!"

"And if I'm a bum, I don't get paid at all, but I 'till get to keep talking and doing as I want; e'en mo'e than shou do. Crazy 'ow that works, isn't it?"

"...Huh?"

Grinta simply mused another laugh. While she did, one of the employees pulled out their phone and dialed a number. Grinta watched as they did, toasting her bottle to the employee before, as they began speaking into the phone, she downed another swig. Even for a hero, what a waste of time to be called to a "disturbance." She wondered how many taxpayer dollars were wasted on things like this; as the employee continued to speak, the vigilante bent over on the ledge, cupping a hand to her mouth and shouting.

"Oi, any 'ero listening!" She didn't know if the phone caught her voice. "If shou show up, I got another bottle! I promi'e to sha'e if shou wanna wa'te shour time, but I won't force shou!" Grinta snorted as she pushed her hat up, securing it to her hood so that it wouldn't fall to the street. Maybe she should stop wearing the hat as part of the look. "Ju't an offer!"

[attr="class","castleonthehill"]Grinta held silent for a moment, tapping a finger against the bottom of her mask; a quiet tap... tap... tap, even after Ghouligan finished. She couldn't put words as to why, or even if it was right for her to do so, but beneath that screen of hers, she cracked a crooked smile. Her eyes, if they had been visible, wouldn't have said the same, but they still couldn't deny the twisting of her lips. And with it, she laughed. She and Pundit both laughed, with hers as a faint chittering and the creature's an uproarious croaking. Grinta placed her hand fully over where her mouth should have been.

"Shit," she breathed airily, "shou a'e a fucking lu'atic." While Pundit continued to laugh, paying itself no mind to the conversation anymore, Miss G. composed herself and her posture, placing one hand on her hips while the other held her temple. "Shou come out of the womb with a ga' mask on or something? Wa' shour fir't toy a gun? Come on, we'e shou that kid got bu'ted for selling drugs at school?" She sneered. "I should've thought shou a shanqui* if I didn't know any better."

Her hand fell loose to her side now, hidden beneath her cloak, while her more casual posture exposed her other half. "Shou're insane. Actually insane, I mean. Not as some joke, and not as hyperbole; shou're a proper freak. And not just because of all that." She nodded toward his mutated form. "But 'till better than a coward, I suppo'e; I don't figu'e one would decla'e themselves to pulling out weeds and not following through, right?"

Shifting back towards the ledge, she hopped back up, taking a seat on the side as she placed her hands at her sides. She teetered to either side slightly, swaying just an inch as she crossed one leg over the other. "For all of that talk about piling bodies and 'laughtering the depraved regardless of the innocents, I'd say shou're missing one; a particular swordsman, shes?" She tilted her head back. "Granted, for the time being, it's still speculation; as is the case for the rest of shour invites, I 'aven't made any concrete case."

"But," she lifted a hand with a raised index, "Ronin jumps out to me a' the mo't contentious. Shou 'eard it too, shes? That 'tory of his — it doesn't add up to me."

[attr="class","castleonthehill"]Grinta hummed to herself for a moment. Truth be told, she didn't truly know a thing about Mummy; in their singular encounter prior, she hadn't gauged anything necessarily indicative of the "oni" — that was the term, if the vigilante recalled correctly — or their agenda. Whether it was the cacophony of warfare or the white noise of her reason, Grinta hadn't heard a single thing to match Rui to. Nothing meaningful to her, anyway.

But that dance had been fun. It hadn't lasted long, and truthfully, there hadn't been much to it before the music was abruptly cut by the crunching of bones and splattering of blood. But, at the end of Babel, a day she couldn't take any pride in, it had been comforting, numbing even, to be anywhere but trapped on a battlefield.

"Oh sheah?" She chimed. "What other benefits come from being a be'tie, asi'e from 'ealing?"

The group still hadn't fled, surprisingly enough. Grinta figured that, following the humiliation of their beloved boss, the thugs wouldn't have the wherewithal to even hope for a victory against either woman, let alone the both of them together. Nonetheless, they disregarded the scene laid before them, and the vigilante scowled beneath her mask.

As wooden bats and metal pipes swung down, the vigilante remained seated as her coat sprung up, trained to withhold their blows. Grinta, meanwhile, balanced forward, offsetting the weight of her cloak's resistance as it held her side at bay. With strength beyond before when she'd bisected the swordsman, Grinta's cloak could now more than withstand the force of lower-level threats, even when they packed together with their efforts. Grinta couldn't, however, say whether the same held true for Mummy or not.

"Doe' fighting guys li'e these raise infamy?" She remained seated, even as the men struggled against her cloak. The blades at the bottom along the bottom trim threatened them that, in the case they should try to slip out of this contest, they would soar up and through them. Not fatally, perhaps, but surely not without agony. "Sounds li'e a wa'te of time, to be 'onest."