The Wrong Genre

Investigation or irritation?

Walking down the hall of headquarters (they only really had one, since the place wasn't exactly huge), Interdit was headed to the front room. After all, he'd just gotten a text from Kyle that said "Maestro's here".

Actually, it said "mast arrows hear," because Kyle was unable to properly work a touch screen with his claws and so always used voice text. But Interdit got the real message anyway, and he was going to be watching Maestro's every move (as usual) to make sure he didn't do anything sinister. 

Because it seemed the other heroes had gone completely lax in this regard, and were beginning to let him wander around the compound without a overseer and not question his strange demands. Fools. Just because the man hadn't done anything explicitly evil yet only meant he was lulling them into a false sense of security...

He did a double take halfway to his destination, stopping to examine a mirror that definitely hadn't been there earlier in the morning when he'd walked down this very hall. It was a rather large mirror, positioned directly across from a doorway. While he was examining the frame (were those runes?), he didn't notice a figure smirking against the doorway behind him. When he did lock eyes with the blue eyes through the mirror, his widened and he spun around immediately and searched out Maestro's eyes again.

"Didn't work, did it?" Maestro asked with a smirk as images of Interdit seething flew through the frenchman's mind. "Good to know," he said, ducking back into the room and closing the door before Interdit could get a word in edgewise.

He didn't see Maestro around for a whole hour after that, though he made a point of checking every few minutes to see if the man had emerged from the room he'd shut himself in. Doubtless he'd be even longer out of sight, except at that point Interdit was suspicious. What had Maestro been doing in there for an hour? It was an office, and an empty one at that. Just an empty desk, a single chair, and a lamp.

So he yanked the door open with prejudice, and was met with... an empty room. Everything the same as it was, except that a laptop was open on the desk. Displayed on the screen was Maestro, who was looking bored out of his mind.

"You have more restraint than I give you credit for," Maestro drawled. "I gave you five minutes before you came back and tore the door open. I hurried for nothing, and now I owe Romulus ten dollars."

"How did you get out of this room? Where are you?" Interdit demanded, slamming his hands down on either side of the computer in a rage.

"So it doesn't work through monitors either. Your power's rather limited, isn't it?" Maestro asked, nonplussed. He had, after all, been expecting to be found, so if Interdit's power did work he would already know where Maestro was.

The monitor shut off before Interdit could reply, leaving the infuriated man to let out a wordless hiss and tear through the entire building. He was nowhere to be found in the back rooms, the only rooms he could have been in because dag nabbit Interdit had been watching the front ones! He had been sitting in the kitchen, which cut off everything out of the hall because that was the only way out!

The kitchen was, coincidentally, where he found Maestro waiting.

"I was here the whole time," Interdit snarled, sweeping up to the smirking man and glaring into his sunglass-covered eyes.

There was no flash of what Maestro expected. His face obviously showed some measure of surprise, because the villain proceeded to smirk and pull off his sunglasses only to put on prescription glasses and make a point of locking eyes.

This time Interdit did see. The image of himself taking a left-handed swing at Maestro, regardless of glasses.

"You think I have that little self control?" Interdit sneered, despite the fact he had been seriously considering it.