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Another cloaked figure was watching, looking at the posters of Proto and he sighed. Welp, this wasn't going to be easy. Everyone knew he hung out with Proto... Using hang out in the loosest possible sense, but still. He rubbed the back of his neck as he pulled his cloak over his helmeted hair and stayed to the shadows.

Bass was walking with Proto, even if the other didn't know it, just somewhere.. behind him. Maybe above. Green eyes watched his ..... Well, not friend, but not quite enemey. His... ... Well, ******** it, Green eyes watched Proto. As much as he would love to see the bot die, it would kind of suck for him because he would have to listen to Wily whine and moan about it, or something. He didn't even know. He just felt a protectiveness when it came to this scrapheap.

While he wasn't as emo as Proto about what had happened, he had his fair share of problems with it. Jumping down, finally, next to the other cloaked figure, he stayed quiet because he knew Proto wouldn't freak out, risking being seen. Instead, he just walked with him, clearly ignoring the vibe he got that Prot would rather be alone than with anyone right now. What did it matter to him? He had a chance to annoy him while he was in an honest emo mood. It would just be by being there instead of talking to him or starting a fight.

The plastic bag from the convenience store weighed heavy in Martin's hand. He should really be budgeting better, cooking more often instead of buying cheap, crappy frozen food, but after a day at work he just wanted to go home, warm something easy up, and collapse on the couch until bedtime. His life was kind of crappy these days, but he reminded himself, when those thoughts came up, that he was one of the lucky ones. He was alive, and he had a job and a place to live, even if job translated to fixing idiots' communicators when they dropped them and broke the screens and place to live translated to crappy little apartment in an area of the city that needed more repair than it had gotten.

He didn't live in the busted-up outskirts, he reminded himself. Not any more. If he kept working hard and saving, maybe he could afford something nicer sometime. Not anytime soon, but sometime.

He rounded the corner to the street on which his apartment building stood and stopped. Someone was pacing down the sidewalk, methodically ripping down propaganda posters one by one. The guy looked like he had some kind of deformity, or maybe there were wings hidden under that cloak. Either way, it didn't matter. Martin didn't want anything to do with this. Report vandalism and suspicious behavior, the PSAs said, but screw that. All that would get Martin would be a mark on his records for reporting something and nothing would get done about it, or worse, something would get done about it and then if it ever got around that Martin had had anything to do with it he'd never get any peace again.

He'd just ... edge quietly over to the side and try to pass the guy without being noticed. Mind his own business. Nothing weird going on at all.

Seven strolled out from the corner of a building. The mistmatched eyed male shifted his bag up higher on his shoulder. Tapping a shoe to fit properly as he walked. The male could care less about the damn resistance, or about Wily. He's eyes were focused downward not really paying attention as he walked. He had lost pretty much everything and was working to rebuild the place he called his home. He wasn't a masonry, but was trying his hardest. Learning new things through reading what he could. He glanced up at one of the posters. Smirking in amusement at the propaganda he shook his head rolling his shoulders.

He thought over what he needed to do next...the wall was halfway back up. Electricity was out of the question right now, but he at least could get the frame of his families apartment back up. Or try to...he let out a sigh.

"Report me? -Report me-? These cowards aren't -rebels-. The only person they'd report me to is Wily's forces for being suspicious, and since we kind of command them there's little problem there now isn't there?"

He wasn't touching the subject of being mobbed. That...was not a discussion he wanted to get into.

"You don't freak me out -now-. Idiot."
Well that...was somewhat a lie. The other just got under his skin. All the time.

While Bass looked around trying to figure out who was following them...or why, Proto's attention had been turned to Martin. ....Interesting. There was a guy going out of his way to not be noticed. Proto turned his gaze to the wall, ripping down yet another damn poster and balling it up. Seconds later the tiny projectile found itself hurled at Martin's head. Ignore that a*****e, Proto was going to keep an eye on how the other reacted to it.

Huffing and puffing, Jimmy ran through the unkempt streets. Hurdling over benches and trash baskets left out, scaling walls, jumping from roof top to roof top. It was all good fun. There were several wounds and bruises marring his speckled coat from falling when a building would crumble under his feet or he didn't quite span the distance, but that was all part of the fun.

He was doing his par core all day pretty much, stuff to keep him entertained as well to ignore the fact that, well... he didn't have a lot of food or money. He wasn't one of the lucky ones to have a job, barely had a 'house' to himself, but, he still had no qualms against anyone. Finally landing on top of a wall covered in propaganda posters, the multi-colored Audio watched the gathering of others in the area... especially the one ripping down the posters. Running along the top of the wall, he caught up with the 'wrong-doer' and called down. "Hey! Is that fun? Are you being paid to do that or something?"

Oh this was not a good day to piss Bass off. Unfortunately for the one who's soda exploded before he could get a sarcastic word in, he let out a metallic scream and just glared at the flesh bag. He and Proto were promptly soaked from head to toe from fizz of the stupid soda. At least it wasn't ...completely soaked. Just in a bunch of spots all over. He growled and pushed a hand over his cloak before reaching into it.

"You wanna take care of 'em or should I?" He didn't care how many other citizens were watching them right now. He was so mad. He just washed this outfit too! Green eyes glanced at Proto, waiting, seeing what he was going to say.

Proto had flinched slightly when a voice called down from above. Not that the voice -scared- him, he just....wasn't expecting someone up there. The cloaked figure tilted his head back slightly, not that it offered much of a view of his face...big dark sunglasses blocked anyone from seeing much of that.

"Fun? ...No, it isn't -fun-, and no I'm not being paid to do it either. I simply don't approve of these -lies- being plastered up."

Now that he was talking loud enough for others to hear him, there was a definite metallic echo to this figure's voice. It varied in intensity, but was particularly noticeable on the word lies.

Before he could continue, a bottle of soda bumped into their feet and sent the fateful soda spray all over himself and Bass. Proto snarled, and there was a definite shifting under his cloak as he adjusted his shield. But...Bass was already digging around in his too...and Bass really loved causing trouble.

....Maybe Proto could let him have his fun tonight.

"Knock yourself out."
He'd be ready (and more than willing) to offer cover should Bass end up needing it. Yeah, sure, he didn't like the other bot. But he cared for the citizens even less.

Especially that -noisy- one who was stepping between them and the soda dropper. That one earned a snarl from him too.