Evan grinned out at him, his arm slipping back into the reflection of the ice. He still didn't come out. "Bringing back the Rogues," he repeated, in a hazy and thoughtful intonation. "What for? What're we lifting?"

The idea brought enthusiasm to his mind, though still he approached it with caution. He wasn't proud of hiding, but it was preferable to being de-powered, imprisoned, and tortured. Anything was. "Anything at all, that's damn right. Mind that, now," he echoed, agreeing with his thoughts, then glanced at Cold again.

"I did notice ya got your costume on. Wondered."