Rock was surprised to find Tank did not make his hand look like a stepped-on soda can. Internally, he actually felt that was a little more impressive than showing off his strength, which he so easily could have. But, it was neither the time nor place to contemplate that.

"That's me," he said with a muted smile. (It was hard to be too genuinely happy with his favorite sheriff around, but he was probably going to try just to spite her.) "After you, then. Make yourselves at home. We're still waiting for the fuel truck to arrive, but, in the meantime, I'm gonna make some... finishing preparations."

Yes, they had wholly to do with Tank's sheer size. He was not going to fit into the plane's stock seats.



"I'll take that offer!" wheezed Dr. Henshin weakly, as, like all old people in existence, he overreacted massively to the adverse temperature, pouring sweat, drooping in his flight, weaving from side to side, and looking utterly pathetic.

He lulled down and leaned his weight on Mako's shoulder.

"Help an old man to shelter, would you, hm?" he asked meekly. The shark had already marked himself as compassionate to an old man's needs by opening the van door for him. Things were only going to get worse.



Inside, they would find the control tower building to be... cozy. Not huge, not super spacious, but big enough to easily hold the crowd in its main "lobby" area, which looked more like some sort of casual mix of a living room, dining room, and front office. There was a computer desk, a large table with chairs all around it (probably for both eating and flight planning), a couple sofas, coffee table, all that sort of stuff. The only thing that looked out of place, besides the mismatched furniture and throw rugs on the concrete floor, was that the walls were all hidden behind thick curtains, tapestries, hanging rugs, layers of sheets, and pretty much anything that could be draped from the ceiling. It certainly made for an interesting effect, but why anyone would go to the trouble was hard to say, especially since it was still nothing striking to look at.

"Of course, of course," croaked Dr. Henshin. Not literally croaked, mind you—replied to Mako, more accurately, as he was still fairly alive, just, you know, croaky. The weary old moth-man fluttered and puttered his way over to the couch, plopped down, and folded away his fancy cyborg wings behind him. "Have a candy for your good deed," he sleepily murmured through a stifled yawn as he fished out a colorful, round, classic-looking plastic-wrapped hard candy from his coat pocket and tossed haphazardly toward the shark. Its crinkly, end-twisted wrapper was kind of hard to read, but it had Wild Labs printed on it, along with "POW! Wild Berry Punch" in front of Badge's distinctive logo. Possibly a very good or very bad sign, being that it meant it was likely formulated by the Doc himself. Possibly not a good idea to consume it then and there, or maybe... ever.

He opened and closed his mouth a few times as if chewing some invisible sub sandwich, ensuring throughout that he made sufficiently obnoxious I'm-Tired smacking noises, before spontaneously losing consciousness then and there. An automated robotic arm extended from the unit on his back and proceeded to put a sleeping mask over his eyes for him. He truly thought of everything.

Both Ace and Caz followed Jam back indoors, and assumed their previous seating (and standing) arrangements they had posted themselves at moments before. Ace on his stool. Caz leaning (and somewhat impatiently bobbing left and right in rhythm) against the wall next to the window.

"Oh, Jam," exclaimed the mole in a faux wrist-flapping motion. "What-ever could they go there for, but for the lovely tourist attractions?" She didn't sound *entirely* sarcastic either, but probably enough to let her know she was indeed joking.

Ace just released a chuckle that sounded like a huff and nodded weakly-- and then paused after suddenly recognizing the nearest hedgehog (and the shark seemed vaguely familiar, too). He kept his mouth shut, but the gears in his head were definitely turning.

"Ohoho no, no, no," Tank answered in that polite but seriously renouncing way that only a charming foreigner could, and promptly flopped his body on the couch, the seat next to Dr. Henshin nearly exploding beside him. "Indeed, hwe are on a meeshun: penetrlate Westside Islond's defenses, eenfeeltrlate the Starrly Nights Colosseum-- ah, you haff hearld off thees tourlnament, yes?"

[OOC: Woops. Fallin' behind. Sorry, folks.]

Hoji was just as surprised as anyone to find Rock here of all places. And as the benefactor of their ride to Westside, no less.

"Small world." He said mostly to himself, although not necessarily with any contempt in his voice. No, while their initial meeting wasn't silky smooth, Hoji had no real reason to dislike the monkeys.

He followed the others inside. He walked over to the couch that Tank seemed to be hogging, and leaned against one of the arm rests.

He nodded at Tank's response, "A boxing tournament." He clarified, in case Rock and company hadn't heard of it.

( Pardon any.. Crappyness in this post.. Been awhile and my focus isn't the best tonight.. )

Moments after the simian's pace would come to a pause a faint blue glow flickered into existence within the shadow the hanger cast from the position of the afternoon sun. Though the blue tinted flame was clearly viable it's source would remain unseen even as it quickly darted about within the shadow for several moments before pausing then quickly headed for the corner of the hanger before fading out of sight entirely.

Regardless of whether or not Rock had noticed the flame the approaching mantis had, and in fact, his attention was focused on it prior catching a glimpse of Rock standing nearby the shadow out of the corner of his eye. At first his focus darted between both the now empty shadow and the simian as he lifted the goggles form his eyes,resting said goggles on his forehead " Given the direction you were heading.. Might i assume you're the one I have a flight with today..? "