Masks 2

This specific dumbass was in the same giant jacket and jeans everyone saw her in like a week ago. As comic book nonsense tended to go. This time she had a motorcycle helmet on, and she was uhh... I mean, god, she actually didn't look any different aside from the helmet thing. Same amount of knives on the belt, same duffle bag of weapons (an abundance of trusty old guns, knives, bow, and a sword), same stupid surfboard under her arm. Did she just live like this? The hoverbike with the bag with camping gear hanging off of it implied... Maybe.

The news was troubling, and Coyote was real still through it, until it was time to move. Did a quick head count- goddamn, that part of her life huh? Where none of the old guard was- OH THANK FUCK. "Demon." One. One single other person who was here last time. NICE. "We were worried about mind control last time, right? Anything we can do at this point to prep?"

She left her bike and camping shit on the cliff, and... Actually, she grabbed the snacks out of her camping bag and threw them in the Weapon Duffle, before hopping into the ship so they could move. Might be a long trip. Snacks were a powerful, powerful tool in these team-ups. They were not ready for this shit oh god oh GOD.