He finished ransacking the office, and was doodling on the gangster's faces with a permanent marker, giving one a bandit mask, another cat whiskers, and was just turning to the leader when he heard the sirens. A sigh of disappointment, and then started jogging away from the scene, whistling under his breath, backpack back in its usual spot, carelessly slung over one shoulder, belying the importance of its contents.<br/><br/>Once in the RV park, he paused in front of his clunker, and sighed in disappointment as he finished paying the bill, which the gangsters amounts thankfully covered, but not by much, and drove off. Just another beige RV on the road, though his best improvements had been done to this over nearly a decade. It got a ridiculous MPG thanks to his upgrades, was far larger on the inside than it should be, and was immune to anything less than a .50 caliber round. It was his real home, and the back was stuff full of what most people would call junk, but to him, it was inventions in potential.<br/><br/>For the moment, he was heading east, toward where common lore placed a super's base, through the city.