Beat Cop (Open)

"They were obviously... Tch. It wouldn't be worth me explaining." Which usually meant Pix had lost the argument. He wasn't interested in conceding defeat and so deftly changed subjects, "And no I wouldn't be in a cage. Though that's not to say your assistance didn't make things easier. So if it'll stop you from mentioning it again-" The sprite steeled himself for a rare accolade, "Thanks."
 
Mia had 'saved him', and bringing it up led Pix to surmise that she wanted some form of congratulation. Hell the girl probably wanted something more than that, but he already had a duty to his gang. A gang which was weak, if not, unreliable. Her enlightenment on the matter made Pix uncomfortable in her presence. Being correct was his game.

"Grief. What's your problem? I just gave you a kudos. What are you after?" The irritation left Pix's voice. This tendency to irk him was bordering on excessive. It was as if she was trying to provoke a reaction. Maybe some human emotion. For a change, Pix was going to dictate what her own problems were.
 
"Don't answer that - it'll be more fun to do so myself. You're lonely. Standing there criticising my choices in life. It's because you don't have any choices to make yourself. Your school of fish swam away, leaving you upstream without a paddle. Well if you ask very nicely, I might be your friend." (;D) He had to admit she was growing on him. It was never a bad thing to have capable friends, he supposed.
 
"And my first friendly advice will be to stop using terms like 'human'. No one does that. Like, no one."

His irritation became more sporting, accepting the insult like a challenge rather than a significant slight. Once more she was claiming Pix was wasting his life. Maybe the thought had merit, but he did not give up on his allegiances easily. Though he recognised he could not make her see this. She was as stubborn as him, "Thing about slaves - they have company! You're like a scarecrow left alone in some barren field. Only difference is no one thought to put a burlap sack over that face of yours."
 
The metahuman looked at his wrist where a pixelised watch face still lay. It was getting on, "I'd love to argue all day, but I have actual people to get back to." He stated, "So why don't we keep walking in the meanwhile?"

"Leave just you dealing with them? Hells to the no! I live for this kind of altercation. We're like deities in comparison to normal people. Those cops are merely walking to their graves. I hope there's twenty of them- no, fifty- no, one-hundred! Still won't break a sweat but it's a start. After that we'll walk into the police station and take everyone out there. Hopefully attract the United States Army's attention. Cus the difficult part with them is bringing them all together. Then once we've finished those losers off Superman will return, allowing us to kick his butt and send him back into hiding. At which point we'll own everything and everyone. No one will ever stop us- hold that thought."

Pix walked up to an old wooden door marred by peeling paint and leading inside a dusty compound. The sprite pulled at its handle finding it locked tight. He nodded thoughtfully before placing both his palms upon the frame. After a moment's concentration, Pix's body disintegrated into its constitutes, each individual pixel slipping beneath the door gap and reconstructing on the other side.

"Start without me. I'm going to go conquer China first."