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“Do you think you can get Parker onto that roof without being seen?” Hardison pointed at one of the pictures that were floating in front of them over the table.
It was fascinating to Quinn, how he could project his data just into thin air like that. The lines around Hardisons fingers were pulsing slightly in a bluish light, flaring up everytime he tapped a key on a keyboard only he could see.
Quinn scratched his head. The building was really damn high and it would be broad daylight.
“I'm not sure. I might need a distraction. We don't usually fly that high up.” Quinn always referred to winged people as ‘We’. It made him feel less alone because the really obvious blessings, like feathered wings, were rare enough for a black market to exist for them.
He could obviously choose to hide them under his clothes but it would 1 take more layers or even binders, than he was comfortable wearing and 2 he always felt sore after he actually did choose to hide them, couldn't lie down comfortably for a few days at least.
“We could set something on fire,” Parker suggested with mischief in her eyes.
“We don't put civilians in danger,” Eliot said, clipped. He was standing beside them, behind the chair he usually occupied.
“I could do some crazy hologramm street art stuff. Keep attention for a few minutes. But we can never be sure that people pay attention to something like that.” Hardison pulled up some things that had Parkers eyes twinkling.
Quinns attention was on something else. Eliots posture was straight, almost rigid. His hands were resting on the backrest of the chair in front of him and his mouth was set in a grim line. If Quinn didn't know any better he'd guess the hitter was in pain, which didn't make sense because their last job had been a bunch of weeks ago and he hadn't gotten injured lately. At least as much as Quinn knew.
“Did you hear me Quinn?”
He blinked and looked over at Parker. “Sorry?”
“I asked if you could fly up an elevator shaft.”
Quinn shook his head while he felt his face heat up.
From there Parker launched into more and more insane ideas that Quinn tried to pay attention to, but something about Eliot was rubbing him the wrong way and it worried him.