United Heroes MUSH - User contributions [en]

13656/Even Green Lanterns need help sometimes

2021-07-28T01:42:59Z

GodsKnite: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2021/07/22 |Location=Upstate New York: A hidden fallout bunker |Synopsis=Clint, Skye and Alice go to rescue John from an underground bunker! |Cast..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2021/07/22
|Location=Upstate New York: A hidden fallout bunker
|Synopsis=Clint, Skye and Alice go to rescue John from an underground bunker!
|Cast of Characters=1233,137,1191,9025,1463
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     The loft of John Stewart wasn't a terrible wreck the following day. But there were clues. The glass on the balcony door had been opened by a glass cutter. The circle wasn't perfect, it seemed to be some kind of glove that was used rather than a traditional glass cutter. Something had fused the security signal, meaning that the opening of the door failed to trip the alarm.     Inside, The bed was a mess, blankets strewn away from it as if someone got out quickly. The sheetrock wall has a dent and tear in the material as if someone had been thrown into it., and a picture had fallen from its mount and broken on the ground. There are drops of blood, though not a lot, which are on the sheets and floor, some kind of minor injury, the blood matches John Stewart's. 

:'''{{#var:137|Clint Barton (137)}} has posed:''' This was one strange call they received, Skye and him. Satellite recordings reported an unusual anomaly in the sector and, after analysis, it appeared that the location was quite close to the residence of someone well known in SHIELD files. Someone called John Stewart - and someone, Hawkeye stopped listening at his description as he already was gearing up for the "investigation" operation. The good thing is, Skye was accompanying him. SHIELD also noted that there had been no contact from - or reported on - said John Stewart for a few days, so they decided to look at this more closely. Opening a locked door is child play, and, making sure no one spotted them, Clint and Skye quickly and quietly enter the appartment, closing the door behind them. A quick glance around confirms that something is wrong, especially when he notices the drops of blood. "Awright," Clint says, "Either the guy was caught in some fight, either they divorced. Maybe didn't pay the rent?" Although he's joking around, the archer starts looking around for clues, doing his job quite seriously. 

:'''{{#var:1191|Skye Johnson (1191)}} has posed:''' Skye just shook her head as they arrived at the apartment. "What's weird is he should be able to take care of himself." Yet she looked around the living quarters, and while it could just be messy (hey, there was a reason Skye and Clint hired a maid, they weren't even close to being neat at their homes), the specks of blood told a different tale. "Somebody had a fight." Definitely. "Too bad he didn't have hidden cameras. Never fails, noone SHEILD investigate never has them." 

:'''{{#var:9025|Alice (9025)}} has posed:''' Just as the Shield agents check out the flat, Alice shuffles up the stairs to the appartment, a brown wrapped cardboard box uner the arm. Sighing as she knocks at the door to the rooms of a certain John Stewart, the mutant waiting there for someone to open. "Mr. Stewart?" she calls out as the door stays silent, knocking again. "The Items you ordered are here." Not like she has a key or something. 

:'''{{#var:137|Clint Barton (137)}} has posed:''' Although she wasn't making any noise really, someone climbing up the stairs could not go undetected by the archer who, while Skye was looking around, remained closer to the door for exactly that - covering their rear and stopping anyone from interfering. The voice isn't unfamiliar to Clint, and he quickly looks through the peephole of the door, and recognizes Alice. They could just not answer the door. But something tells Clint that she might be useful, since she was in contact with said John Stewart, she might know something useful? "Ok, I'll let her in," Clint warns Skye, "Let's say we're on welfare check. Which we are, anyway." He then slowly opens the door, not enough for Alice to step in right away, not before Clint can make sure it's Alice and that she's alone. "Hey there, Alice. Did you have an appointment with John?" 

:'''{{#var:1191|Skye Johnson (1191)}} has posed:''' Skye was doing exactly that: looking around for clues. "Alice?" She's uncertain about her name, but he was probably right, she could be invaluable for finding out what had happened to John. She almost missed it on the first go round, but something bothered her about the empty safe. "Nope, something is wrong. I bet..aha!" It wasn't visible, but it was there, and suddenly it made sense: He wasn't wearing his ring. 

:'''{{#var:9025|Alice (9025)}} has posed:''' Alice was about to knock again on the door as Clit opens, blinking a moment. "Mr. Barton? I thought this was John Stewart's flat. Did I err in the door?" she asks, giving him a slightly raised eyebrow, smoothing it over as he greets her back. "I was about to drop something off he'd wanted to have from the shop. But what in every heaven's name you are doing here? This isn't like a crashspace for the Avengers, is it?" 

:'''{{#var:137|Clint Barton (137)}} has posed:''' "Naw, not at all," the archer replies, not saying what this /not at all/ refers to. "I was looking for John, and can't find him. He seems to... have left in some hurry, and maybe not totally of his own will. So I'm gettin' a bit nervous." Not at all, he's not nervous one bit, he's just being as nosy as he can without using too much lies. "Did he tell you he was, I dunno, meeting someone? Going some place? Anything at this point could be useful." As he speaks, he's slowly clearing the path into the appartment so Alice can enter if she wishes, which has given time for Skye to pocket/conceal whatever she might have found. Hey, it's a SHIELD investigation, not a public one. 

:'''{{#var:1191|Skye Johnson (1191)}} has posed:''' As Clint ushers Alice, quickly Skye puts the chargers in her pocket, and closes the wall safe. "You haven't seen him lately?" Other than the crash into the wall, there wasn't a lot to go on. 

:'''{{#var:9025|Alice (9025)}} has posed:''' "Not that I know of." Checking the note on the parcel, Alice raises an eyebrow again. "Actually, he should be home about now, at least that's the note here. Delivery timeframe and all." With a shrug, she passed Clint as he stepped aside, looking for a sideboard or something to put the box down on, finally opting for the living room table. "Well he had ordered a couple costumes a few weeks ago. All pretty much similar but for some details, but hey, who am I to judge? Has a large faible for Green Lanterns it seems. Or are you looking for something specific?" 

:'''{{#var:137|Clint Barton (137)}} has posed:''' Thinking for a moment, the archer slighly sighs. Investigating à la Sherlock Holmes is /not/ his cup of tea - action packed intervention, ah, that's more to his liking. "Some strange spatial anomalies were picked up by the satellites," he says, "Very clearly around here and well, that's the same time that we lost track of John. I don't really believe in coincidences, so was just wonderin' if you've heard anything aroundd." As he speaks, Clint lifts the cover of one of the boxes - again, who knows - and makes a face. Not his kind of clothing, and nothing interesting there. "Green lanterns, hey?" he repeats, glancing over at Skye, who, he's certain, would know more about them than he does. He's not bad with Asgardians, Kree or even Skrull, but not so much with Lanterns, of which he only recently learned more about with a visit to the MacKenzie Station. 

:'''{{#var:1191|Skye Johnson (1191)}} has posed:''' What Skye did know is with a fully charged ring on, they were nearly unbeatable. Which meant he was passed out (and that she wasn't sure about), or the ring was not on him, or was needing a charge. "If I can see if they were careful about their hack job we might have a clue where he's gone." She pulls out her 'tablet', and sets to finding if they were not careful. Afterall, hacking /was/ her primary job in SHIELD, and she was *good*. 

:'''{{#var:9025|Alice (9025)}} has posed:''' "Well, the Rumor mill in Brunswick is off the hook about the Family bragging about getting some kind of power gadget that would make them cosmic or something. But that's just a silly rumor. They're mutants after all, and I know of no mutants that go cosmic all of sudden that are not part of the X-men in some way or another. And that Family thing is anything but those. I mean, they're like... The Godfather. You know, the Francis Ford Coppola. Al Pacino, Marlon Brando. You know... Mafia. Just not italian." Alice shrugs, brushing her hair back as she eyes over Clint. "Sattelite? Ok, what's going on here Mr. Barton...." 

:'''{{#var:137|Clint Barton (137)}} has posed:''' "Oh, nothing at all," Clint replies, "Mafia, but not Italian. OK, French Connection then." Ah yes, he has watched the old French films noirs. But this isn't the time for that. "Power gadget that makes them cosmic. Interesting. This could have created at anomaly picked up by the satellites." Actually, the lost footage from the satellite is more of a concern. Could this /gadget/ have interfered with the data? As he speaks, Clint resumes his looking around for clues. The kitchen area itself doesn't provide any useful information, though the fridge is well packed, so the man didn't plan on leaving. Returning to the main area with a soda in hand, the archer waits patiently - well, as patiently as he can - trying to also remain silent, as he knows that Skye needs to concentrate on her research. "We might want to talk to the X-Geeks at some point then," he muses. /At some point/, in SHIELD lingo, most likely means: if we're totally lost and clueless, which they aren't yet. 

:'''{{#var:1191|Skye Johnson (1191)}} has posed:''' Skye sat down on the couch, and proceeded to follow the 'clues' that their hacker had inadvertently left behind. Sure they wanted to look like Star Labs was responsible. She didn't believe that, but to prove it would take a little time. 

:'''{{#var:9025|Alice (9025)}} has posed:''' "Not my strong suit. I mean, it's not like I would be an X-men. But those Family guys in Brunswick ain't like Fench or italian mafia. More like..." She ponders about it a little. "You remember the incident when it suddenly rained mafia bosses and when gangers were mowed down for being of the old syndicates? That's their bosses. I think had something to do with a limb name, but really, who listens to underworld news. It's always the same: Spiderman kicked someone robbing a bank in the shin and JJJ yelles about the menace he is, the Joker poisoned a dozen in Gotham and ended up strung from a lantern and just another crime boss is found in the harbor wearing cement boots for he stepped on someone's foot." Alice shrugs a little, following Clint behind. As he checkes the fridge, she smirks a short moment. "Did you suspect someone to be stuffed into that? He had ordered a delivery for today, so he was expecting to be home, doesn't it? Or are you searching for something different? The classic safe would be behind a canvas or under the floorboards. Unless it is a Chad Stahelski, then the secret is under the floorboards and cast into cement." 

:'''{{#var:137|Clint Barton (137)}} has posed:''' He's refraining from laughing at some of Alice's comments, "Stuffed? Ah no, that's be classic. Naw, I was getting thursty," he says, effectively opening the soda and drinking. So no, there doesn't seem to be any more clues around - or maybe he doesn't want to search for them in Alice's presence. It could also be because Skye is still /working/ her hacks and that this might provide a better clue than whatever he could find under floorboards. Tho, what Alice mentionned about these events of a few years ago, it does ring a bell. "Stepped on someone's foot... Yes, the Foot." He turns to Skye, not sure if she will register him asking, "Just an odd chance, could the Foot be involved? I mean, John isn't a ganster, why would he be targeted? Probably not them." 

:'''{{#var:1191|Skye Johnson (1191)}} has posed:''' Ah! That's the missing thing! The Foot. With that everything falls into place, including some prime locales where he might be. "Weird, they are using a kind of Sentinels hardware. But these, given the time frame, are the most likely places they might be holding him." "But," she shakes head. "What did they need him for. That's the question." 

:'''{{#var:9025|Alice (9025)}} has posed:''' "Unless you count being in general a nice guy with a thing for green lanterns? Maybe they mistook him for one." Alice remarks, shrugging again as she leans against the kitchen counter. "I mean, he just ordered enough of those costumes to outfit a boygroup of them." 

:'''{{#var:137|Clint Barton (137)}} has posed:''' Again, the archer makes a face. Green. Far from being his favorite colour. "Seriously?" he says, replying to Alice, "Why would anyone in their right mind dress in /green/. Purple? Fine. But greeeeeen? C'mon." Once he got that out, he returns closer to Skye, to glance down at her laptop and the locations she has identified. They are too far to drive and check them one by one. It would take them forever, and chances are that they might not even find anything to any of these locations. No matter that's it's all paid hours, he's not driving. "Right, we'll use a chopper," he says, "I think we're done here for now." 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     After the time is taken, the likelihood of locations assessed, the bunker is able to be deduced. About a 3 hour drive north is an old presumed abandoned bunker, one that was created during the cold war It's buried in the side of a hill, and the only access to it seems to be an old dirt road that hasn't been very well maintained. Roots stretch across the weeded path, making it a rather bumpy access to attain. Still, there are fresh tracks that show that it has been used in the last week. 

:'''{{#var:137|Clint Barton (137)}} has posed:''' As they drove back to the nearest SHIELD heliport, special agent Barton has reported on their discovery and requisitioned a Quinjet. While he's not the best driver, Hawkeye is quite good piloting anything that flies, so the travel up north went without any problem. It wasn't long before special agents Johnson and Barton arrived at the location of the bunker. Once they landed, and exited the craft, the obvious path seemed to be the one leading to the hill where the old bunker is supposed to be. "Ok, girls," Clint says, readying his bow, "Let's have a quick look. Skye, can you read anything, transmissions, data, whatever?" It had been decided, at some point, that Alice - although not being a special agent - could come along in case identifying suspects could be necessary. 

:'''{{#var:9025|Alice (9025)}} has posed:''' "Green is an alltime favorite for Archers. Robin the Hood of Sherwood is the eternal green guy. Who is best combined in dashing red fur." Alice quipped on the who preferred green, grinning as she pretty much admitted that the 1973 animation was more a favorite than the 1938 Errol Flynn one. "But in a pinch, I'll have to borrow one of those costume, if you insist on keeping me with you, Mr. Avenger." That was all her explanation before opening the package to pull a bundle of green and grey costume out of it. And subsequently requesting the back row of the car to get into said costume with a snarky remark of "No peeking". Not that it seemed to fit at first, but after a little fiddling with it, it looked like it was tailored to her fit from the beginning... and the excess material put into cubes in what accounted to the belt. Sometimes, she could be rather blatant about fixing clothing. On the flight... nothing much she could do. "Well, Glad you need me to tag along, but what again you need assistance with from a cosplay-lantern?" 

:'''{{#var:1191|Skye Johnson (1191)}} has posed:''' Skye was looking with her computer, trying to get a ping into where they were going. "Sorry, not that I can tell. It's very strange, actually." No noise? No data? She looks deeper. 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     The bunker doesn't seem protected, at least, not on the outside. The entrance seems overgrown, but the vines covering the door are a fast growing variety, meaning that they could have grown within the last couple of days easily. The heavy steel door is locked, but it does seem to be a standard lock, nothing on the outside to indicate that it's anything past what it was when it was built decades ago. 

:'''{{#var:137|Clint Barton (137)}} has posed:''' With a nod at Skye - if there had been anything coming from the bunker, she would have detected it - and a silent /let's go/, Clint starts up the road, noticing that it has been travelled recently. This could be nothing more than locals using the ancient path for other needs. "Alice," he says in a low voice, "I'm very tempted to lock you up in the Quinjet. Civilians are not to be involved in our operations. You're here only to identify possible suspects, heck, if we ever find any." Nonetheless, he lets the young woman walk along. "At the first sign of trouble, you must return to the Quinjet, got it?" Maybe he's not up for arguing just right now, which is why he allows her to join them, at least for now. It takes several minutes to finally arrive at what seems to be the original door of the bunker. The small vines are no indication that the door could not have been accessed recently. "Right, let's pick this," Clint says, reaching for his pocket to find his oh so useful basic agent 100-in-1 kit, which includes the lock picking gadget. 

:'''{{#var:9025|Alice (9025)}} has posed:''' Alice nods some at Clint chafing comments, leaning against the wall as Clint starts to pick the lock, eyes following the movement of the tension lever and his hook. Little clik on one, nothing on two, click on three... "Isn't that a little strange? I mean, they locked the door from the outside, but aren't they supposed to be inside?" 

:'''{{#var:1191|Skye Johnson (1191)}} has posed:''' "Nothing that I can detect." And Skye is very skilled at that. It doesn't make her feel at ease about it. In fact quite the opposite. After all, they took a Green Lantern! There should be something! As she thinks of this, she listens with her extra sensitive hearing. 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     The tumblers are old, which is the most challenging part of the lock. The moment it is unlocked, a signal does come to life. A quick burst of a signal is sent out from the bunker, another signal is received. Skye's sensitive hearing might pick up the very slightest of electric hums. Some sort of system just came online inside. Locally, several signals seem to activate. Dozens of them even. 

:'''{{#var:137|Clint Barton (137)}} has posed:''' A real piece of cake for Clint, unlocking the door. But he doesn't open it right away, turning to Skye and asking - again silently - if she got something. Both agents are used to work silently, using ASL when needed, though for now, looks and facial expressions are enough for them to communicate. Glancing at Alice, Clint nods, "An accomplice could lock on exiting, and leaving others inside. They could also use a secondary entrance and leave this one locked. So many possibilities." Now that the door is unlocked - and still closed - he glances once again towards Skye to see if there's an update on signals or the like. 

:'''{{#var:9025|Alice (9025)}} has posed:''' "True, and what do they tell the pizza guy? Key's under the doormat?" Alice notes, shrugging as she picks up a few pebbles, weighing them in her hand. "I know you are the experts, but this still is fishy. I mean, nobody locks themselves in a bunker from the outside. You lock stuff in the bunker from the outside like a prison cell, or you lock yourself from the inside and have no lock accessible, not one for the other... Usually." 

:'''{{#var:1191|Skye Johnson (1191)}} has posed:''' "Uh.. security is turning on." And how! Clint had clicked the lock and suddenly beyond the door was the sound of computers, and possibly other things. It was harder to narrow it down. Skye touched his hand, and told him what they could possibly be up against. "You're right, Alice, but with things as they are.." She shrugs. If there was anything that she had learned was criminals don't follow the rules. 

:'''{{#var:137|Clint Barton (137)}} has posed:''' Having being warned - but not overly surprised - that unlocking the door triggered the alarm system, Clint takes a step back, a hand on the door handle, ready to open it. Should it be all at once, or slowly, who knows. "Ok, step back you two," he says, in case the door has been booby-trapped. He then proceeds with opening the door, only for one inch, hoping there's no bomb mechanism attached to it. And then... no bomb. With the door only open for an inch or so, the archer leaves it in this position, glancing over at Skye for an update on the situartion, as she might pick up other information or sounds, like, dozens of goons rushing to the door, or whatnot. 

:'''{{#var:9025|Alice (9025)}} has posed:''' Alice covered herself a little bit to the side of the door as Clint checked it, reaching for a chunk of the costume she had parted off in dressing, and slowly starting to reshape it to cover her fingers in just about the same shape as a brass knuckle would. Not that she was a good fighter, but not breaking your fingers when punching someone was highly apprechiated. 

:'''{{#var:1191|Skye Johnson (1191)}} has posed:''' *Now* the hum broke up into noises as the Mousers were on the door. Finally this began to make sense. "Here they come!" And Skye looks to Clint. "Should I? Or..?" In others words, should she quake them, or save it up. After all, she did carry an ICER. She put her tablet aside, and prepared. 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     Just as Sky gives out the warning, the door is struck with the force of a small car. Small bipedal robots a little less than a meter tall suddenly rock the door forward, large snapping jaws opened wide as they respond to the intrusion.     Inside the compound, lights come on for the first time in about six hours for John, the light's far brighter than they were when he was intimidated by the Shredder. Electronic beeps can be heard in the next room, and something electronic comes to life. 

:'''{{#var:137|Clint Barton (137)}} has posed:''' Pushed by the sudden rush on the door, Hawkeye rolls on the ground, and gets back on his feet right away, already shooting a few well chosen arrows, including some directly inside the bunker. There isn't much time to think about the best solution at this time, and Skye's suggestion seems a good one. A nice quake, limited, could reach way further in and incapacitate a lot more of these... munching bots. And at this point, Hawkeye isn't sure how far in they'll have to move. The decision is taken, "Alright, shake it, babe." He then turns to Alice, "When we go in, you stay here. I don't really need Fury's lecture on civilian casualties," he pauses, then adds, "Again." And on that, he shoots a couple more arrows to keep the exiting bots at bay. 

:'''{{#var:9025|Alice (9025)}} has posed:''' "Again? Ok, but if you need someone to fix you a splint or stunt your pierced leg, you call out. Or to haul out the cute butt of Mr. Lantern Lover." Alice remarks as she tries to keep a low profile away from the door to not get into the blasts and jumps of combat bots. 

:'''{{#var:1463|John Stewart (1463)}} has posed:''' Being malnourished long term tends to make one exhausted, and John needed to keep up his strength... so even with the bright lights, John just studied the room briefly for anything new. With no one coming back in, he relaxes back into his chair and continues the process of pulling an arm out of the straps he's in.... just a few more minutes and he'll be able to free himself. 

:'''{{#var:1191|Skye Johnson (1191)}} has posed:''' "Mr. Lantern Lover?" Skye had to laugh. "Should I leave you two a room?" She knows she has nothing to worry about with Clint. Still she likes to rub it in his face that he can't go anywhere without a fanclub following him. When the door was opened she began to move her hands to make a pulse to keep the 'mousers' out of the way. More than once if she has to. 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''      The first and second mousers are knocked back by arrows, the third and fourth make it through behind them before the pulse knocks them to the side, and another several can be heard crashing down the stairs. The two that made it out scramble back to their feet, and their metal maws open. One leaps for Clint, the other for Skye, assessing them as the threats that need to be neutralized while the others begin to recover from their topple down the stairs of the bunker.     "ASSESSING EXTERNAL SCENARIO. INTRUDERS PROBABILITY OF BREACH: 67%." The voice is robotic, and whoever it is is on the other side of the door. from John. "PRIORITY RECEIVED. ACCESSING." 

:'''{{#var:137|Clint Barton (137)}} has posed:''' There are many uses to a bow, and especially one made of extra durable and resistant composite, and as the bot leaps at him, he waits calmly. Using the bow as a close combat weapon, he swifly swings at it with the bow, sideways, and effectively decapitates it with the bow. But there is still another, aiming at Skye "There you go, pile of junk. Skye?" he calls out, ready to throw his bow at her, so she can do the same with the one attacking her. If she doesn't acknowledge the move, he'll just take care of it himself. 

:'''{{#var:9025|Alice (9025)}} has posed:''' Alice can't aide a lot in that fight, and she was told to take cover. So she does. 

:'''{{#var:1191|Skye Johnson (1191)}} has posed:''' "Go on, kill it!" Sure Skye can quake the thing into next week, but it's just as simple to use the bow. 

:'''{{#var:1463|John Stewart (1463)}} has posed:''' With no idea what's going on outside, John has to take the stealth approach of /looking/ like he's still captured until someone opens the door for him. It's something he trained for, but hasn't had to actually apply until now. With the strap dealt with, he loosens all of the rest of them, giving the illusion of being strapped down still. Now, he waits. 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     The bunker was designed to withstand nuclear holocaust, and as such, it has little decoration. Thick stone painted a dull gray uniformly haunts the hallways like a ghost of the past.     At the base of the stairs, three mousers remain, the others smashed from the quake. They look up the stairs, as if examining the situation, and retreat down a hall to the left.     Meanwhile, deep within the bunker where John has just freed himself there is the sound of a wheel rolling.     "ACCESS ACQUIRED: PROCEED WITH EXTRACTION OF ASSET." And with that, the sounds of the wheels can be heard rolling away. Only they didn't take John with them. He must not be the asset. 

:'''{{#var:1463|John Stewart (1463)}} has posed:''' "Only makes sense. They think they can breach the security of a Power Ring: Fools." John muses to himself. "Arrogance always thinks they know everything. There is literally only one thing in the universe capable of charging that ring, and he thinks he knows better." It doesn't matter at this point, because the only thing John can do is wait at the side of the door for someone to come in and hope he can manage to escape from there. 

:'''{{#var:137|Clint Barton (137)}} has posed:''' Seeing that Skye didn't intend on using his bow, Hawkeye jumps behind the attacking both swings his bow and swiftly dispatches the munching bot aiming at Skye. The quake provided by his fellow agent a minute or so ago, sent a few bots down stairs - the sound was unmistakable - but nothing says they are down for good. With his luck, chances are that they already rushing up the stairs. "Alright, let's see what's in," Clint suggests, shooting an explosive arrow inside to clear the path. "We need to find this Lantern, and get the hell outta here. Else, we'll call backup. Ready?" Clint looks at Skye to check if she's fine with the plan of rushing in - typical Hawkeye manuver - and also at Alice. That time, he doesn't order her to stay or not, and leaves it up to her to decide. 

:'''{{#var:1191|Skye Johnson (1191)}} has posed:''' Skye figured it was as good a plan as any, but she thinks.. "Alice, are you going to stay, or go in?" Because she had a plan. Of course with Clint having so few arrows, and they didn't know how many robots vs humanoid they would meet, she kinda presumed she would take point. Ergo the plan. "I think you should follow us." Not only because she would be vulnerable by herself. "You can take John's Lantern, while we cover you to give it to him." And with that, she holds out her satchel to her. 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     The explosion plumes the smoke back up from the vault below, and the mousers go quiet. There are of course other possible threats below. At the bottom of the stairs, the path through the bunker is rather linear through a few bulkheads, only to finally split in two directions with a number of doors on either side. 

:'''{{#var:9025|Alice (9025)}} has posed:''' Alice had taken cover at the wall of the bunker, away from the actual fight against the automaton defenders, as Clint called that to her just moments earlier. "Eh... you need your hands, don't you?" she answers back to skye a the direct question, a little dumbstruck by the conflicting order with that but quickly settling. "I carry that thingy, you have both hands to fight. That way I can help at least." Scattering behind the two, she shoulders the satchel... a lantern coyplayer carrying the real lantern. No ring or constructs though. "O...ohkey." 

:'''{{#var:1463|John Stewart (1463)}} has posed:''' Explosions. It doesn't take a genius to put the pieces together. Someone tracked him down and is trying to get inside. Throwing away stealth, John starts to pound on the door, trying to find the weakest point that makes the loudest bangs as he does so. "IN HERE!" John raises his voice, screaming. 

:'''{{#var:137|Clint Barton (137)}} has posed:''' Sun-glasses on - with night vision and heat detection integrated - help to navigate in a smoke filled room, though it doesn't help with inhaling the smoke itself. Hopefully, the door being fully open helps dissipate the smoke. Walking in, ready to shoot anything or anyone that doesn't fit his definition of friendly, Clint quickly checks the surroundings. The only path seems to go down the stairs, so he heads this way. "Alright, let's get stealthy, ladies," he says, grinning at the tought that he just used an explosive arrow. It kind of starts to look like a junkyard down the stairs, with pieces of bots covering much of the floor, thanks to the explosive arrow. Are there any more bots hiding around? Hard to tell. Raising his hand up, the archer requests silence from the two with him. Did he hear someone screaming? Looking back at Skye for confirmation - she definitely has better ears than he does - he waits, silent. This could also be a trap. 

:'''{{#var:1191|Skye Johnson (1191)}} has posed:''' Even before his call rang out, Skye had honed in on John, so when Clint hushed and asked, she nodded. ~About half way~ she signed at him. And with that she waited for his signal before attacking. 

:'''{{#var:9025|Alice (9025)}} has posed:''' Alice is just behind the two, shouldering that bag and waiting silently. Because... She was a civillian, yes? 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     There aren't any people present. Whatever project's been brewing here, it seems that the Shredder didn't want real humans here if it went wrong. Two single wheeled robots are zipping into a pipeline as John begins to yell. The models are known as one that is used by the military for security. Rodneys. Sometimes called Road Kill Rodneys because of their use on high speed engagements with vehicles. The last one is laying down, dragging itself into the pipe, and away it goes. And...then there's John's cell. It appears that there's not anyone else here. No more mousers, no more killer robots or lasers from the ceiling. At least, not at the moment. 

:'''{{#var:137|Clint Barton (137)}} has posed:''' One, two steps forward. Nothing, no more bots, check. Clint walks forward, his instincts now warning him, this can't be so simple. No one gets an army of robots to just then vacate the place. Nope, doesn't happen. "Ok, so there will be a trap. Only thing is, when, where and who'se gonna fall in it." Obviously, he's volunteering for it, since he takes another step forward. In the distance, once the smoke has dissipated, the archer can see the corridor split in two, and doors all along it. He and Skye would choose the same side first, it's always to the right. There's no need for him to indicate his choice, so the glance at her is only to see if she got an update. 

:'''{{#var:1191|Skye Johnson (1191)}} has posed:''' For this, something doesn't feel right. She motions to Alice to go in the middle, and she'll take the rear. "Somethings wrong," she whispers. "Let's hope I'm wrong." When Alice switches her place, a quick nod goes to Clint. "Right. Midway." That's where she follows John's voice. 

:'''{{#var:9025|Alice (9025)}} has posed:''' Alice hurries along, eyes daring over the walls and utensils, fingers clamping on the strap of fabric that held the bag with the invisible lantern, the other the improvised plastic knuckle... 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     It is pretty silent, the hum of the rodneys continuing to fade down the small tunnel escape. The door...well the door has a lock on it to the cell, but there's no need for a key, it's a simple deadbolt that can be flipped from the outside. Surely it can't be that easy. Nobody is present in the bunker except John's pounding from the inside of his cell. 

:'''{{#var:137|Clint Barton (137)}} has posed:''' Alright, Skye indicated right, midway. Yeah, right. Always walking with caution, sharing the same feeling with Skye, that something is wrong, Hawkeye tries to find the trap. There cannot /not/ be any trap. Taking the direction on the right, he stops for a moment, looking at the closed doors. So their guy must be behind one of these doors. But which one? Moving forward about midway, as indicated by his partner, Clint stops again, listening. Was that some sound from behind a door? And yeah, call me paranoid, but a single deadbolt to lock a door seems too easy. "Nope, not touching it right away," he says, then in a louder voice - tough not shouting, "Hey, anyone?" Stealth be darned, they came in with an explosion, the place must be rigged with security and video cameras anyway. 

:'''{{#var:1463|John Stewart (1463)}} has posed:''' "This is John Stewart. If you can hear me, I'm trapped in this room and I need help!" John yells back, "I don't know anything about what's going on out there!" 

:'''{{#var:9025|Alice (9025)}} has posed:''' Alice tags behind, getsuring at the door that calls out to them. "I guess that's our mark." It takes her a few moments to get to said door, eying Clint as he spoke through it as she adjusted the brass knuckle in her hand. A few moments she fiddles with it, ending with a handle extension that should allow to turn the levers with some distance. "How about that?" 

:'''{{#var:1191|Skye Johnson (1191)}} has posed:''' As Clint walks forwards, Skye walks the same way, only backwards. And stops a few feet from the door, still looking around. "Nothing yet." She lets them handle the door which she handles the outer reaches of the hallway, always looking both ways for troubles. "Tell me if it gives you troubles. It might need a computer person to break the lock." In other words, this might be a specialized lock, needing her computer skills. 

:'''{{#var:137|Clint Barton (137)}} has posed:''' "Hey, John, step back. We'll open the door, there's no saying what could happen, y'know?" Clint replies, as he reaches for the extension Alice added to the deadbolt, and to which he adds a good length of wire. He then steps back, ready to lift and pull the deadbolt from a safe distance. "It seems to be basic deadbolt, Skye, no sign of electronics," Clint says, "Maybe /too/ basic to be true, so taking no chances here." Having made sure that his companions are also at a safe distance, Clint slowly pulls on the wire, the deadbolt slowly moving, and if nothing explodes, in a second the door should be opened. If not, then they have a different problem and there could then be computer involved. 

:'''{{#var:1463|John Stewart (1463)}} has posed:''' Indeed, John steps back from the door, going to the other end of the room. 

:'''{{#var:9025|Alice (9025)}} has posed:''' Alice takes some cover behind the Barton, not really keen on being in the way of whatever could happen to the door. 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     Click. A circuit is completed, and it sends a signal that Skye can detect. Another trapped door. But...what is it doing? Well, for one thing, the door is now unlocked, and John has his freedom.     The room doesn't explode. Nothing jumps out to attack them.     There's just the quiet hum of the ventilation system that kicks on, which Skye might be able to detect was not a coincidence. 

:'''{{#var:1463|John Stewart (1463)}} has posed:''' And there John is. Boxers and all. His entire musculature is in plain view, and he has days old hair growing at this point... and the smell to match. Despite that, he stands confidently... but he definitely looks exhausted. Malnourished. 

:'''{{#var:1191|Skye Johnson (1191)}} has posed:''' "Fuuuuuuuck." Skye isn't happy. "The ventilation is turned on. Two logical things might be happening, neither are good. The door at the beginning is now closed and we have only minutes before we are out of oxygen, or, they are pumping something to knock us out." If. Skye did not take out the worst case scenario. Only she didn't express it. But she thought it: instead of taking them as prisoners, they might be killing them. "Head for the doors as soon as you can. Alice give the satchel to John and beat it. I'll try to keep the air about you as clean and plentiful as I can." She didn't even know if she can do that, but she would try! 

:'''{{#var:137|Clint Barton (137)}} has posed:''' Clint steps back, not really because John could use a shower, but to keep an eye on possible nasty things invading the corridor. But everything in his attitude screams to get the hell out of there. "Move it!" he yells, to no one in particular. Hopefully, as soon as Alice delivers the satchel to John, these two should be running for the door, closely followed by Skye and Clint in tow. The SHIELD agents don't need to cover this part of the plan: they both stay together, no matter what, no argument. 

:'''{{#var:9025|Alice (9025)}} has posed:''' Yanking the stick back from the door handle, Alice tosses the bag to John. "This way!" she says, pointing the way they came before starting to leg it. The fake Green Lantern tossing a lantern-lantern to the Green Lantern. Hopefully it was fast enough and the door open... She doesn't wait if the others follow. She was told to leg it. That it might not be enough air. So she tries to be fast without panic... That would be fatal. 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     The feel of the vents suggests that nothing is getting sucked out, it's things getting sucked in. Fortunately, this location was not renovated to the degree that it closes the door. Anyone who is not actively being protected by the field, though, quickly starts to feel a sense of vertigo. It isn't very far to the exit, at least, it isn't normally, but those who feel it, the trip up the stairs may be much harder to manage. 

:'''{{#var:1463|John Stewart (1463)}} has posed:''' "I'm not leaving. I felt the ring here when I summoned it, and I heard them saying they're moving it. I need to confirm if it's here or not." John grabs the satchel, takes a look at it, and touches it with his hand. Suddenly, a green hi-tech lantern appears visible. Green central battery energy gleams in the low light." I'm gonna need this, thank you." He looks to the three as he walks out into the tunnel, "My duty to the Corps and keeping my Power Ring out of the hands of evil means I need to proceed if it kills me. I won't ask any of you to do the same." 

:'''{{#var:1191|Skye Johnson (1191)}} has posed:''' Skye isn't sure how long she can do this, the bubble, but it seems to be the least dangerous option of the few she had thought of. "Good thing I don't take orders from you." Oh but she grins at John. "Then again I normally don't take orders from anyone." Regardless of her rank. She's never been good at that. "I think we know where your power ring is. Kinda." She explains how the signature is going away from them. Most likely to get the ring. 

:'''{{#var:137|Clint Barton (137)}} has posed:''' The archer blinks at John's statement. What the... "Look, you can die for it later," he tells him, pointing at the door. "Unless you have a gas mask on you, you'd better move out. We've got masks in the Quinjet." It is unsure indeed, how long Skye can maintain this bubble, and to Hawkeye, the best solution is to go out, get what they need and come back. If they have to fight in these conditions, this would restrain their movements. And if Skye can't maintain the bubble or is otherwise incapacitated in combat, they might buy the farm. What he told John - to get out for now - also applies to Skye, and the look he sends her speaks volume of his own plan. 

:'''{{#var:9025|Alice (9025)}} has posed:''' Alice speeds up to the door, holding it open with one hand while she offers the other to anyone needing help on the steps. "Come on you three..." she mutters, sending occasional glances out to the quinjet. 

:'''{{#var:1463|John Stewart (1463)}} has posed:''' There's a moments pause, before John nods, "That works. Give me a gun and I can be useful." John steps out, following the group as they leave. "The ring is my priority, and she knows where it is. I assume you all know my name. I don't recognize you two." John glances to Clint and Skye. 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     The signal of the two reach the road in record time. They are moving at approximately 55 mph. They are in a hurry, whatever they are, and they are moving back toward New York City. 

:'''{{#var:137|Clint Barton (137)}} has posed:''' Now that everyone agrees on a plan, it's time to hightail it out of there. Thanks to the temporary bubble provided by Skye, the move out of the bunker is done relatively quickly, the door being held by Alice. Once everyone can take a good dose of fresh air, it's everyone running to the Quinjet. While Skye gets to work on the tracking system, Hawkeye takes the commands. "Buckle up, you two," he tells John and Alice, "This ain't US Airways, and I'm not Sullenberger!" He's joking, but frankly, Hawkeye is a very good pilot. So the chase begins. 
}}

13572/A Question of Funding

2021-06-30T04:37:32Z

GodsKnite: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2021/06/30 |Location=Staten Island Railway |Synopsis=Sarah sees Theo get money from an ATM without a card, and decides to follow and investigate hi..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2021/06/30
|Location=Staten Island Railway
|Synopsis=Sarah sees Theo get money from an ATM without a card, and decides to follow and investigate him.
|Cast of Characters=10044,9892
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:10044|Theo (10044)}} has posed:'''     The Staten Island Railway does have hours of operation. They do end. One shaggy haired teen doesn't seem to be aware, though. Theo has spent most of the day traveling, by bus and on foot, trying to navigate the painful city of New York. He's tired. A brand new navy polo and equally new khaki shorts clothe him. In fact, his shoes are also brand new. It's like he just stepped out of a department store.     He lets out a sigh as he makes his way to the line, the last train just arriving. It won't be leaving again, though. Not until morning. He walks up to the dispenser. End of line. He stares at it for a good thirty seconds, as if he could will it back to life. But it still reads the same thing. He lets his head plunk against it in exhaustion. "Of course. I'm so close... and... you." He lifts his head up, and indicates the machine. "Just couldn't do one more run, could you?" He kicks it in frustration. "Just. One. More. Run." Yep, he's talking to an inanimate ticket dispenser. 

:'''{{#var:9892|Sarah Connor (9892)}} has posed:''' Sarah was doing her roam about town. Just recently she had heard through the grapevine that something was.. odd.. going on around the Staten area. So far, nothing stood out. Still, shd check it one more time before crossing it 'off the list' so to speak. Sarah was paranoid. Extremely so. Sitting in her car, she watched the people coming and going. Nothing usual for a hot summer's evening. 

:'''{{#var:10044|Theo (10044)}} has posed:'''     As the last of the commuters find their way off the last train, Theo glances at it, and he sighs. It was the thing he most looked forward to for the day. But he turns, walking back from the station, and stops by an ATM. He stands there, waiting for everyone around to disperse. And he's alone, just a teenage kid and the middle of the night. Unaware of Sarah, he turns, and looks at the machine. Suddenly, there's the sound of the cycling gears inside, and a stack of bills dispenses, extended to him, and he takes them. He pulls his wallet from his pocket, and neatly places them in, and folds it closed before pulling out his phone. He starts tapping away at it, as if nothing unusual had just happened. 

:'''{{#var:9892|Sarah Connor (9892)}} has posed:''' She almost misses it. Almost. At first the boy (for he was a boy, not a man, around John's age) looked to be using the cash machine. Nothing wrong with that. (Unless he was a Terminator, which could be possible.) But he never took his card out.. Odd. She honed her attention on him.. He could have forgotten it when he took out his phone. Maybe. But something doesn't feel right. 

:'''{{#var:10044|Theo (10044)}} has posed:'''     The youth seems oblivious to his watcher, and continues to look at his phone. He pivots, then pivots back again, checking the device. He sighs. More walking. Theo picks one foot up, and then the other, rolling his ankles around a little, and he starts walking into the parking lot, on to the next destination. He's not walking directly toward Sarah and her car, but close. 

:'''{{#var:9892|Sarah Connor (9892)}} has posed:''' Sarah could not have pinpointed what made roll down her window. And she certainly could not have made the decision to call out to the boy. "Hey!" She nodded her head back towards the ATM. "You forgot your card. You'll likely need it." Either for money on another day, or for ID. A pause.. "You've got a home?" Something about this scenario didn't make sense. Maybe that was it. And if he had no home, it wasn't his card either. Which meant he'd stolen it.. but how did he use some else's cards, unless he had a card reader. Unless he had a card reader. Bing. 

:'''{{#var:10044|Theo (10044)}} has posed:'''     Theo was completely unaware of Sarah, apparently, because when she calls out, he jumps. "What?" he asks, looking rather confused. "I...I'm fine," he says, a distrustful scowl on his face. Who is this lady and why is she talking to him? It doesn't take a mind reader to read that expression. He doesn't even address any of the things she said, about the home, or the card, and changes direction slightly, to keep walking, picking up his pace a little. Crazy city people. 

:'''{{#var:9892|Sarah Connor (9892)}} has posed:''' Oh yes. Regardless of being 'city folks' and generally not talking to strangers, this was beyond that. Sarah was certain. She let him get away just a bit, then she came out of the car, and followed him at a distance. 

:'''{{#var:10044|Theo (10044)}} has posed:'''     Theo keeps walking, checking over his shoulder a few times before deciding he's fine, but before she opens the door, illuminated by the light of the street occasionally. His shoulders are a little hunched, as if he's expecting an attack. He stops briefly at an intersection to check his phone, and is passed by a car with rumbling speakers. He recoils a bit more than most people might. Sure the car is covered in lights and draped with custom paint, but the music wasn't surely loud enough to hurt his ears. After it passes, he continues on his way. 

:'''{{#var:9892|Sarah Connor (9892)}} has posed:''' Sure, he's spooked. Sarah can tell. The car with teenagers shouldn't have bothered him *that* much. Hell, she wasn't certain why she wanted a bit more info. It wasn't like she was going to turn him in. And she certainly wasn't going to invite him to stay with her. Really she could go back to her car and wash her hands of the whole thing. Then why does she go on? 

:'''{{#var:10044|Theo (10044)}} has posed:'''     It isn't long before he reaches an old motel. It isn't all that impressive. Clean, at least externally. He turns around, as if instinctively checking his surroundings, and spots Sarah. "Are you following me?" he asks. "What do you want?" He stops walking toward the motel, uncertain if he wants to commit to it with someone following him. 

:'''{{#var:9892|Sarah Connor (9892)}} has posed:''' "Really?" Sarah shakes her head. "I have no clue. But you don't have to worry about the police. I'm not going to rat on you. In fact, you might be useful someday." She holds her ground, just beyond 10 or 15'. "You're okay?" 

:'''{{#var:10044|Theo (10044)}} has posed:'''     Useful?" Theo echoes the word. "What are you talkin' about, lady?" He gives her a very suspicious study. "I didn't do anything wrong." False, but he's not about to admit it on the street to a stranger. His accent sounds a bit more southern. Virginia? He glances about, as if looking for an attack from another angle. 

:'''{{#var:9892|Sarah Connor (9892)}} has posed:''' Holding both hands up, palms out, "Woah. You can say you did nothing wrong, but do you want to try letting the police figure out how much money you got from that bank machine? Be my guest." Of course Sarah doesn't move her hands. 

:'''{{#var:10044|Theo (10044)}} has posed:'''     Theo looks undecided for a moment, as if debating a response. "I used my phone," he says, though his phone didn't leave his pocket until after he got the money. "You didn't see me do anything, the camera will confirm, it's all legit." Of course, how would she check it to verify. "Just been a long day lady, I'm not looking for any trouble." 

:'''{{#var:9892|Sarah Connor (9892)}} has posed:''' Sarah laughs under her breath. "Very well. You did nothing. I'm going to leave now, but in the future, you might want to get your facts straight. Like having you phone out before you use the machine." She began to leave, and almost immediately turned around. "Oh and one more thing? The ATM works with a card, not your phone." She shrugs, and now she begins to leave. 

:'''{{#var:10044|Theo (10044)}} has posed:'''     Theo doesn't stop her. He gives a strange look, not giving an agreement or argument. He doesn't seem to feel the need to win the argument. When she turns to go, he walks backward a few steps, and continues on toward the motel. 
}}

12610/Just a Quick Errand

2021-01-04T22:02:53Z

GodsKnite: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2021/01/04 |Location=Bushwick (Mutant Town), Brooklyn |Synopsis=Tyler and Andrea encounter a mutant who has had a bomb strapped to him, and they mu..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2021/01/04
|Location=Bushwick (Mutant Town), Brooklyn
|Synopsis=Tyler and Andrea encounter a mutant who has had a bomb strapped to him, and they must act quickly to keep it from becoming a very tragic story.
|Cast of Characters=1792,1790,1233
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:1792|Tyler Grant (1792)}} has posed:''' The morning is bright and clear, but a little on the cold side. There are people out in Mutant Town running errands, going to work and just generally doing their thing. Tyler Grant isn't among them. He's on a rooftop, sitting on the edge with his legs dangling over, just watching the scene. It's a peaceful spot where he can survey everything before him. Based on the way he checks the time on his phone, however, he may not be up there for long. 'No rest for the wicked' and all that. 

:'''{{#var:1790|Andrea (1790)}} has posed:''' Having taken the last few days to celebrate her new success, Andrea is finally out in the public eye again on a walk through mutant town. She parked her car a few blocks away in a garage and opted for a stroll towards one of the diners she enjoys. That, and she likes to bring business to the locals. Her presence will garner excitement and probably pack a few more tables with a chance to get facetime with the celebrity. Today she's dressed down in a pair of jeans, a heavy sweater with a hoodie over it. She doesn't check the rooftops as she walks, opting more to staring straight ahead, though her hyper senses are as usual pricked upwards. You never know these days. 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     The contact heads down the street. It's Rocky, the man who curates the Mutant Cultural Museum. As a volunteer. Rocky is no member of the Foot, but he's connected to the Family, the feeder group that helps watch Mutant Town on the Foot's behalf. When things get too hot, he has the details of the problem to pass on. His trademark shoulder spikes jut out of his old carhartt. Usually he meets at the museum, but today, well, he wants coffee, so he messaged ahead and asked to meet at the same diner. He reaches that door just ahead of Andrea, and pulls it open for her. "Oh, hi again," he says casually. "Morning." He recalls her from the visit to the museum a few weeks back, but makes no comment on it. 

:'''{{#var:1792|Tyler Grant (1792)}} has posed:''' Spotting Andrea heading for the coffee shop, Tyler decides to drop in and meet her. He pushes himself to his feet and moves towards the alley edge of the building, dropping onto a fire escape and working his way down to the ground smoothly and quickly. When he heads for the diner he takes a look up and down the street, making sure things look okay still. Nearing the door into the establishment, Tyler scans Rocky quickly and nods towards him in a polite manner. 

:'''{{#var:1790|Andrea (1790)}} has posed:''' "Oh, hey Rocky. Thanks for getting the door." Andrea says to him with a smile on her face. "I hope Dazzler texted you by the way." She remembers him too as she steps into the diner, giving a wave to the familiar face of the waitress. "Hey girl. I see my usual table is free, I'm gonna snag it." She says as she heads over to sink herself down with a flop, then takes her phone out to start fishing through her notifications as she waits for a menu. Spying Tyler, her brows lift upwards and she waves. "Hey Ty! You wanna join me? My treat." 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     As Tyler enters, Rocky continues to politely hold the door open for him as well. He glances at Tyler, and then Andrea, a mild surprise muted on his face, but says nothing about it. "Yeah, thanks for that," he comments to Andrea with a smile. He glances at the table that she indicated, and scans two tables over. "Hey Brit," he says, also familiar with the people there. After all, he's a local. He heads over to the other table, and sits down, deciding to let things take their own natural course. He's not in too big of a hurry. 

:'''{{#var:1792|Tyler Grant (1792)}} has posed:''' "Yo Andrea. Sounds good," Tyler tells Andrea with a grin as he moves to join her. Looking at Rocky, however, he asks, "How's it going?" Sounds like genuine curiosity. As he settles into a chair he turns to Andrea, "How about you? You been doing well? I caught video of the New Years thing on Youtube. That was really cool. Not usually into country, but I liked the tune." 

:'''{{#var:1790|Andrea (1790)}} has posed:''' "It wasn't country you goof. It was pop-rock. Jay just has a twang in his accent. But thanks. It's crazy right now. I can't wait to see what happens next with the music." Andrea says with a grin as she picks up her menu once it arrives, holding it up to take a look at it. She gives a silent glance from Rocky to Tyler for a moment before she shifts her gaze to her friend. "You know Rocky also from the museum?" 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     Rocky goes to take a seat, and Brit comes over, not even asking what he wants. It's a black coffee. "Pancakes up in a minute," she tells him before going to take Andrea and Tyler's order. Rocky takes his phone out, and begins tapping away on it, checking his social media and things like that. He could look up at the two, but he seems to be content to mind his own business for the time being.     Meanwhile, on Tyler's phone, a text comes through. 'Take your time, I'm not in a rush.' 

:'''{{#var:1792|Tyler Grant (1792)}} has posed:''' "No wonder I liked it," Tyler says with a laugh as he looks over the menu, his head twitching to the side slightly. "I know him from the neighborhood. I'm trying to spend more time down here lately, make sure folks are doing alright and all that. When I'm not training or something." After figuring out what he wants to eat he leans back in his seat, checking his phone to see who texted. He texts back, 'Cool.' 

:'''{{#var:1790|Andrea (1790)}} has posed:''' "Ah. I see. He seems to be a nice guy." Andrea says as she puts in an order of pancakes and bacon. "So, now you think you're neighborhood watch, huh?" She says as she props her chin up in the palm of her hand, smirking at him. "You going to start putting on a cape and talking in a gravely voice like Batman or something?" Taking the glass of water that comes by, she sips on it. "Maybe you can take Nevada out with you a few times. He could use more friends and he's bored at night. That and he sees dead people." 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     Rocky meanwhile, sits with his coffee. The museum doesn't get opened until he shows up, but usually this early no one is there anyway. It's not as if he's getting paid. He sips his coffee, idly listening in on the conversation, though he makes sure it doesn't look like he's eavesdropping as he scrolls the phone screen. 

:'''{{#var:1792|Tyler Grant (1792)}} has posed:''' "Of course I am," Tyler replies with a big grin. "The cape is the most important thing, after all. Can't do good without one." Then his eyes widen somewhat, "Sees dead people? Well, if he's down to help then I'll take him some time, or just go get a beer or whatever. Give him my number so he can text me and we'll figure something out." 

:'''{{#var:1790|Andrea (1790)}} has posed:''' "Yeah, something like that. He's the harbinger of death. So he takes lost souls to their final resting spot. He's sorta like the Grim Reaper, but you know .. he's a Barghest." Andrea says as she taps along her phone as well, wrinkling her nose at times, then scrolls with her thumbs along the glass surfaces. "Don't do capes by the way. They get caught on things. You want clothing that's breathable but not too loose. Gives less friction when you're city running. Fire escapes tend to have a ton of loose metal parts sticking out that can snag fabric. You should also wear a cup." She teases him. 

:'''{{#var:1792|Tyler Grant (1792)}} has posed:''' "Okay," Tyler says when Andrea gives him a rundown on her brother. "Sounds pretty wild, actually. Don't know much about that sort of thing, but if we hang out it'll give me a chance to learn some more." He chuckles, "Good advice. I'm not really a cape guy, anyway. Got too good a figure to want to hide it behind something like that." 

:'''{{#var:1790|Andrea (1790)}} has posed:''' "You got an okay figure." Andrea says with a teasing tone in her voice as she raises her brows upwards. "Too bad I was hung up on Mason at the time we first met. Maaaybe you woulda had a chance with me." She says with a wink at him. "Though you disappearing for almost a year also didn't do you any favors." She taps along the glass a few times on her screen. "Got plans today by the way? I'm not busy so if you wanted to hang out an go shopping I'm down." 

:'''{{#var:1792|Tyler Grant (1792)}} has posed:''' "I've got to track down some drugs, actually," Tyler says with a serious expression on his face. "My anti-anxiety meds, to be exact. I'm running low and getting into the doctor's can take a while. Got some time for breakfast before the appointment, though." Then he lifts his chin, "I'll call you when I'm done, though, and we can meet up somewhere." 

:'''{{#var:1790|Andrea (1790)}} has posed:''' "You can just go to the free health clinic here in Mutant Town that I just sponsored and opened up. I'll make a call for you and they can take care of it. I hired the head physician." Andrea says as she leans back. "And you know him by the way. Josh, remember? The golden skinned kid? We ended up graduating from school together and he's a healer. So now he's running my clinic while going to college. We can even go together if you want since I could always check in and say Hi. Kids love it when I visit." 

:'''{{#var:1792|Tyler Grant (1792)}} has posed:''' "I like the doctor I've got alright, but I wouldn't mind seeing Josh again," Tyler says after some consideration. "Let me hit the appointment I've already got today, then I'll see about going to the clinic from here on out. I just feel a little weird taking up an appointment slot there when I've got some money to cover the cost of my old doctor. I figure other people need the free clinic more than I do." 

:'''{{#var:1790|Andrea (1790)}} has posed:''' "It's not like there is a line out the door. It's walk-in mostly. It's why it's a free health clinic. I'm sure Josh would love to see you again too. We can get the band back together and go hang out again. Did you ever get your GED? If not, I can help you out with that, then maybe you can go to college also. My charity can sponsor you if you're willing to." Andrea says as she props her chin up. "You kinda qualify being homeless and all." 

:'''{{#var:1792|Tyler Grant (1792)}} has posed:''' "No GED yet," Tyler confirms. He shrugs afterwards, "Maybe I should get it. Can't be too hard to do." Leaning back in his seat he appears thoughtful for a moment, "I'd like to knock out college eventually, too. Don't know what I'd go for, though. Maybe communications or something like that." Another shrug, "I got a pretty nice life now, though. At least I like it. I take care of people, hustle folks with too much money and practice martial arts all the time. If I wasn't a mutant I'd probably be doing mixed martial arts full time." 

:'''{{#var:1790|Andrea (1790)}} has posed:''' "Well, as long as you're happy. Just doesn't get me excited to know you're running around hustling people instead of working honestly. We offered you a job at Club Evo. Would be consistent pay at least with benefits." Andrea says as she reaches out to drag her plate of food to her once it arrives, then tucks into it hungrily. "But school is important. You won't be a teenage karate dude forever. At some point you're gonna have to grow up and do adult things. Otherwise you'll end up talking to the alley smelling like cat pee into your 40's." 

:'''{{#var:1792|Tyler Grant (1792)}} has posed:''' "Honest work is okay, but while I'm young I might as well live the best life I can," Tyler says. "I just like being able to be available in case something starts to go down and I need to intervene, or something like that. Straight jobs don't usually like you taking off in the middle of things to rough up protection rackets or chase off pushers." Then he laughs, "I should just rob the bad guys I beat up and stick the money in a 401K. Bet I'd be able to retire at fifty if I did that." His chin lifts, "I'll do school, I guess. Can't hurt to have a degree." 

:'''{{#var:1790|Andrea (1790)}} has posed:''' Opening her mouth, Andrea looks like she may say something, but instead clicks her teeth shut as she leans back to stab a piece of pancake. "Maybe. Or you find yourself in a ditch full of bulletholes also because you got too cocky. Bad guys don't like losing their money. They tend to take it really personal. I'm all for roughing up the bad guys once in awhile, but I wouldn't make it a full time job. You've seen how I've been targetted in the past just for being me. Now imagine how worse it will get when you start disrupting the mob. You put yourself and your friends in danger." 

:'''{{#var:1792|Tyler Grant (1792)}} has posed:''' "Maybe. I figure it's worth the risk as long as I'm keeping people safe," Tyler says after a moment of consideration. "The way I see it, I'm young, got no kids, no responsibilities and if I keep my identity hidden I can do a lot of good before I bite it. But I never said anything about crime fighting as a full time job. I just like to be available in case of emergencies. If I wanted to help people full time I'd be a firefight or a paramedic or something." 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     Rocky finishes his meal, and glances back over at Tyler. He gets to his feet, and walks past Andrea and Tyler. "I'm gonna go open up, catch you over there in a bit," he says, apparently not thinking that the matter is horribly secret. He gives a passing comment to Brit, and pays his bill.     As he does, someone else comes into the diner. The man looks nervous, a long trench coat over his frame. His face is thin, but he looks a little husky. He looks back and forth, as if searching for someone. He looks a little underfed and his eyes dart about in a worried fashion. 

:'''{{#var:1790|Andrea (1790)}} has posed:''' "We live in a world of smartphones. It'll be pretty easy for the bad guys to figure out who you are, especially if you are seen with me once in awhile. I got papprazi popping out of cups of coffee at this point." Andrea says with a grin to him. As Rocky passes by, she raises her brows, then glances over to Tyler. "What is that about? You're working at the museum?" The gears are starting to turn now. Pieces are falling into place. Before she can make further comment, she looks over to the new person that walks through, her senses on alert at his nervous behavior. She takes another bite of her pancake, glancing back to Tyler and squints at him. 

:'''{{#var:1792|Tyler Grant (1792)}} has posed:''' "Catch you around, Rocky," Tyler says to the fellow from the museum, giving him a wave as he departs. The newcomer definitely catches the young man's eye. He watches him for a few seconds, frowning as he tries to place the face. Then it hits him, "Zeke?" He gets to his feet slowly, "I'm Tyler. You look like you need a bite to eat." Patting the seat next to him he slides over, "Why don't you join us? We'll get you some food." Andrea is given a quick look, as if Tyler's meaning to say something, but he can't figure out the words. 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     Zeke gives Tyler a suspicious look. "I...I'm supposed to find Rocky," he says with a studder. A keen eye will see that within the trenchcoat, there is a vest of some sort along his neckline. And an electrical wire.     Rocky perks from paying his bill. "Keep the rest, Brit," he says. "Hey, I'm a bit taller than that!" he says with a cheerful smile. "I'm Rocky." 

:'''{{#var:1790|Andrea (1790)}} has posed:''' Rising upwards, Andrea gives a cautious look towards Zeke, then squints her eyes a bit more as she zeroes in on his apparel. She takes in a deep breath, sniffing a few times. "Tyler, I think he's rigged to blow." She hisses under her breath towards him, then taps her neck a few times to try and get his attention. "Hey Rocky! I need to talk to you real quick outside. It's about that thingy I was talking about earlier with you. About you know who. That really cute girl who was asking about you." She rises up and heads for him, giving another glance towards Zeke as she squints her eyes a bit more, followed by another sniff. She reaches out for Rocky, looking to put her hand on his shoulder and nudges him to the door. 

:'''{{#var:1792|Tyler Grant (1792)}} has posed:''' "Oh shit," Tyler says when he gets a look at the vest and wire. He reaches slowly towards the small of his back, where he starts to loosen a kunai where it's sheathed under his shirt. Ready to throw, he says to Zeke, "Is everything okay, man? People were worried about you. You need to talk about anything?" He's trying to provide a distraction while remaining ready to intervene if he has to. The wire coming out from under Zeke's collar is a small target, but Tyler knows he can hit it with the knife nonetheless and he's prepared to do so if something untoward begins to happen. 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     "I...I gotta talk to Rocky," Zeke insists. Rocky nods to Andrea, and looks back at Zeke, then Tyler. He hasn't seen the wire, but he realizes something is up. "Yeah, let's all take a step outside," he says. "Zeke, How goes it man?" He gives him a healthy slap on the back. He feels what's under the trench coat as they head out. "Oh..." he says quietly. Zeke looks up at Rocky. "I gotta meet you in the museum," he says to Rocky, fear in his eyes. He glances at Tyler, giving a glance behind him without turning his head to a black van down the street a short way.     "In the museum," Rocky echoes. 

:'''{{#var:1790|Andrea (1790)}} has posed:''' Frowning visibly, Andrea's senses are on high alert now as she steps outside, giving a quick glance around casually as she taps along her phone for a moment before she shoves it into her pocket. "Hey, Rocky, quick question for you. Dazzler wants to know how strong you are. Like, can you get hit by a car and walk it off?" She asks with a grin on her face, staring into his eyes as she gives a slow nod of her head. "Like, how sturdy are you? She was talking about picking up a new security guy for her upcoming concert." She gives a subtle glance to Tyler, then back to Rocky, trusting her friend to handle Zeke. 

:'''{{#var:1792|Tyler Grant (1792)}} has posed:''' Black van. Gotta be where the bad guys are at. Gotta take care of them before something really nasty happens. As the group leaves the restaurant Tyler is with them, though he's quick to try to disappear down an alley should he end up out of line of sight of the vehicle in question. Once in the alley he runs up a wall, skittering like a monkey as he climbs from window ledge, to jump across the alley to a fire escape, scampering up to the roof. From there he moves to look down at the street to watch the black van, ready to slide down the front of the building in an attempt to quickly sneak up on the automobile. 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     "Only if it's movin' slow," Rocky answers Andrea. He glances at Zeke. "Andrea, why don't I catch up with you about that sometime soon. Zeke and I gotta talk about some stuff," he says, clearly trying to reduce the number of people in harm's way. He glances back at...where'd Tyler go? Okay, well, he'll take it alone. He takes in a deep breath. "So, Zeke, what is the story?"     Zeke, though, turns to Andrea. "Miss Jackson, it's great to meet you." He reaches out to forcibly take her hand to shake it. He passes something paper to her palm when he does. A small torn piece of paper that reads 'FOH'.     The van seems not to react, unaware of Tyler's attention to them. From a bove, it can be seen that there's at least one person in the van in the driver's seat, but the lack of windows in the back make it difficult to discern how many people might be in it. It does rest a little low to the ground, though, so something heavy is in it. 

:'''{{#var:1790|Andrea (1790)}} has posed:''' Returning the shake, Andrea stares into Zeke's eyes for a moment, then leans back. As her hand glances down to the piece of crumpled paper that she slips in front of her phone, she reads the letters, then glances over to Rocky. She presses her lips together tightly. Her eyes glance over towards the black van, then back towards Zeke and Rocky. She tucks her phone into her pocket, then goes about unzipping her hoodie. She wiggles out of it, then starts folding it in half before putting it off to the side. "This is so gonna fuck my whole morning up." She is muttering to herself. 

:'''{{#var:1792|Tyler Grant (1792)}} has posed:''' When he closes in on the van Tyler doesn't hesitate. He draws his kunai from beneath his shirt and slams it as hard as he can into the window. Then he's diving through, ready to take out those inside of the van. "Disarm the bomb or everybody dies!" He moves to hold his weapon to the throat of the nearest dude, keeping his head on a swivel to see if there's anything that he might be missing or have to react to suddenly. 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     Rocky glances down at the paper. "Uh, yeah." He turns and starts quietly walking toward the museum. His eyes are those of someone who is racing to figure out a solution, and there's only about fifty yards between the diner and the museum, plus whatever it takes to cross the street.     Zeke nods. "Sorry, I just gotta talk to you, it's about my kids."     Meanwhile, as Tyler bursts through the window of the van, the driver is caught quite unaware. "What the-" he presses his head agains the headrest at the sight of the kunai. Unfortunately, there's a metal barrier of perforated sheet metal between the front and the back of the van.     "What the hell?" one of the voices from the back yells. "We're had, just blow it, just blow it!" Another yells. "No! Get him! They aren't to the museum yet!"     A bullet strikes through the metal and strikes the ceiling of the van, bouncing forward and cracking the windshield. 

:'''{{#var:1790|Andrea (1790)}} has posed:''' Glancing over at the van, Andrea quickly turns to Zeke. "Take it off! Quickly!" She says as she flicks out her fingers that now reveal long claws sprouting from her fingers. She slashes open his jacket to reveal the bomb vest, looking for a way to remove it off him. "Maybe we can chuck this in the middle of the street ... or at the van where those guys are at. Just move, man. This looks like .. a lot of C4. Rocky, how much damage can you take?" There is fur bristling along the body of the popstar, followed by the sound of clothing being torn at the seams as she blurs upwards into her war form. The bones cracking is the most sickening part of it all. Her face along looks painful as the bones snap to create the muzzle. 

:'''{{#var:1792|Tyler Grant (1792)}} has posed:''' Metal barrier? Damn. Unexpected. Tyler still acts quickly, looking through the barrier to try to keep track of the gunman. "Drop the gun and disarm the bomb and you'll survive this. Otherwise I'm going to kill you all." He scans the metal, looking for a way to open it, or maybe a spot where it's weak enough he can kick it open. Worse comes to worse he can go back out the window, over the vehicle and through the back window. "I am not a nice man. I will literally slice you to pieces." 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     Fortunately for Andrea, Zeke, and Rocky, when the jacket is slashed open, all of the guys in the van are fully focused on Tyler. There are wires everywhere. "No no!" Zeke begs. "If you pull it off it'll blow!" They probably already saw, we're dead! Just run!" Rocky looks over at the sound of the gun's crack. "They're busy, we got a couple seconds. Shit, what do we do with this? I'm a mutant, not a nuclear bunker, Andrea. My mutancy is the fact that I have spikes on my shoulders." He's just also a really tall muscly guy.     "Get'm off me!" the guy in the front begs. "We can't, it's the mission! This is the key to taking out that Family. We gotta see it through man. Now kid, get off him or I swear we are gonna shoot you full of holes!" A few more cracks of the gun can be heard, but the angle won't permit them a clean shot. The metal barrier that protects them also protects Tyler. 

:'''{{#var:1790|Andrea (1790)}} has posed:''' Lumbering forward, Rage grabs Zeke by the arms and jerks them upwards. "Stay." She growls out through her lupine throat, then grabs the jacket, starting to hike it upwards to try and pull it over his head. She's going to try the sweater method. She's at least being 'careful' enough to not grab anything by the wires and tug it straight upwards. She rumbles to Rocky. "Run." Seems like she is willing to risk her own neck over others. She's a hero, right? Right. If she is able to safely remove this will determine her next steps. 

:'''{{#var:1792|Tyler Grant (1792)}} has posed:''' "Hold this," Tyler instructs the driver before trying to punch his blade into the side of the guy's throat. If he does as instructed he'll probably survive, too. Then Twitch is out the window, moving to the roof of the van in an attempt to get to the windows on the side and rear. Another knife is in his hands, this one drawn from a sheath on the inside of an ankle. Holding it in an ice pick grip he goes to slam it into the glass separating him from the gunmen. He does not remain in that position long so as to avoid getting plugged. Instead he tries to swing down so he can see in through the window. All he needs is a moment to see a target before throwing his blade, trying to take out a gunman by inserting his kunai into the man's eye socket before continuing to dodge away, swinging around the van like Tarzan brachiating through the jungle, "Last chance to disarm the bomb, asshole." 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     Rocky runs, but not away. Seeing the situation unfold, he runs to runoff drain. He grabs the drain grate, and pulls with all of his strength, slowly lifting it to the side. The vest snags, and it's clear that there's a wire sewn into the pants that Zeke is wearing. "Hurry!" Rocky yells. People on the street start to realize the situation, and most of them now are running.     Tyler's response is gunfire. pops from the pistol shatter the rest of the glass as the kunai finds its mark. But that glance showed two other people. Through the door a few more rounds at Tyler's position. "JUST BLOW IT!" comes one of the men. "hit it now we're done! We gotta get out of here, drive drive!" Of course, there's no driving happening, since the driver is currently fighting for his life. holding the kunai in his throat. Whoops, he pulled it. He didn't listen. 

:'''{{#var:1790|Andrea (1790)}} has posed:''' Growling in frustration, Rage leans down and slices a claw along the back of the man's jeans, then tugs them forward with the other paw. Riiiip! She slips the vest off and over his head, leaving the man in his undies. With a snarl, she barrels towards Rocky, waving a large paw at him to move out of the way. She's going to throw everything down there, clothes and all. 

:'''{{#var:1792|Tyler Grant (1792)}} has posed:''' "Shit," Tyler says as a bullet creases his arm. He's damn good at dodging, but the firepower being produced and the fact that he's hanging onto the side of a vehicle are factors that greatly limit his ability to remain unscathed. Two more bad guys? Two more knives. Dropping down to the ground Tyler produces double edged knives from sheathes hidden up his jacket sleeves. Darting across the back of the van he jumps into the air, already wincing in anticipation of being shot again, but upon seeing the remaining two dudes through the busted up windows he flings his blades at each of their left eyes. When he hits the ground he'll be holding his wounded arm and calling out, "Got all the bad guys, I think. I don't think they had time to set the thing off." Man, that gunshot hurts. As should the one through his upper thigh, but he hasn't noticed that one yet. 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     The vest comes off, and Rocky drops the grate back on the hole, and runs. Zeke doesn't care that he's in his underwear at the moment, he's running as well, diving behind a parked car. Rocky isn't far behind him.     The two knives hit true, the first one falling to the floor of the van. The second man screams out in pain, and then falls forward onto the laptop he was using. He and the laptop clatter down the the floor, his face landing on the keyboard.     Boom.     The deafening fireball bursts from the street, chunks of the asphalt and pluming gray water sewage spray fifty feet into the air, along with the grate that had been over it. The shockwave sets off car alarms for a few blocks, and knocks bystanders to the ground. Windows shatter. The grate of the drain comes back down, and the heavy cast iron object pounds once straight into the van's roof, shaking open the doors and revealing that if one of the men had survived the knife, we'll never know, because he's been crushed thoroughly by the grate. 

:'''{{#var:1790|Andrea (1790)}} has posed:''' As she is thrown from the explosion, Rage hits the side of a van, creating a large dent into it before bouncing off into the street. Her ears slick back against her skull and she can feel the stars swim around in the back of her head. She hurts, but she's at least not coming home in zip lock bags. As she pushes herself upwards, the large wolf stumbles to one side, reaching out to lean against a car, spitting out a large chunk of blood from her muzzle, followed by a tooth. At least it will grow back. Her ears are ringing also. The world spins. Her heightened senses are blown way out at the moment. 

:'''{{#var:1792|Tyler Grant (1792)}} has posed:''' "Oh shit!" Tyler yells even though he can't hear anything right now thanks to the explosion that just went off. He backs away from the van using his hands as the vehicle is crushed by the grate. He tries to push himself to his feet, falling over the first time as his wounded leg radiates pain up the side of his body. Looking down at it the young guy frowns, "Damn." Then he sees Andrea and the blood coming from her mouth. Stumbling towards her he calls out, "Are you hurt?" Looking around, "Who is hurt?" 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     The car protected Rocky and Zeke from the brunt of the blast, though both look dazed as they stumble to their feet, the pattering of smaller chunks of asphalt can't be heard by most as any normal person would have suffered some temporary hearing loss, but they can be seen as the dust clouds the area. 

:'''{{#var:1790|Andrea (1790)}} has posed:''' Looking around, Rage is blinking her eyes a few times as the world around her swims side to side and upside down. Her muzzle drips blood for a few moments until her limited healing factor kicks in. She can already feel the tooth starting to regrow and push up through her gum. Clenching her eyes shut, she uses her free paw to wave at Tyler for a few moments, as if to ensure that she is okay. She'll take her time in shifting down and finding her hoodie to cover up properly. Now her pants will be even more fashionable with the amount of holes in them. 
}}

12489/You can check in...

2020-11-24T21:42:40Z

GodsKnite: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2020/11/24 |Location=Fulham Hotel - Exterior, Brooklyn |Synopsis=Kitsune applies pressure on some crooks next door to Voodoo's hotel room. Punisher..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2020/11/24
|Location=Fulham Hotel - Exterior, Brooklyn
|Synopsis=Kitsune applies pressure on some crooks next door to Voodoo's hotel room. Punisher decides to intervene, as well as Cloak and Dagger, and things become violent.
|Cast of Characters=1233,742,1140,1122,9571
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     Rain isn't fun, but it's even less fun when it's cold outside. The old Fulham Hotel's electric light fizzles a little in the failing light of day, and the puddles shimmer with the distorted reflection in pothole filled parking lot. The area isn't known as the highest crime bed, despite the rundown nature, but then, that doesn't mean it's exempt from such things, either.     Mike, the night clerk, sits with his phone out, oblivious to his surroundings, while a new Toyota Corolla, black, pulls into the parking lot. They pull up, and a Japanese woman with a rather traditional shimada mage hairstyle gets out of the back seat, opening her umbrella. The other three doors open to reveal larger figures, men, each carrying their own umbrella as they make their way to the steps. They've come and gone for a couple of days now, the room recently vacated next door to Voodoo seems to be the one they've rented. No significant noise, no parties, they've actually been rather considerate neighbors, even if they don't seem interested in talking much. 

:'''{{#var:742|Tandy Bowen (742)}} has posed:''' Sometimes, you just need a shower and a warm bed to sleep in. With the rain coming down and the winter months moving in to make New York even colder, Dagger needed a warm shower, and just something to sleep in that wasn't a sleeping bag on a concrete floor. So, as usual, they 'hotel hop' and sneak in free rooms now and again. After taking a shower and throwing some clothes on, Tandy is currently looking out the window from one of the hotel rooms that they commandeered for the night. Chewing on a breakfast sandwich that she put together, she watches the coming and goings out on the street and sidewalk, letting out a soft sigh to herself. "You know, Ty, when I was younger, we'd travel a lot and I spent almost half of my life in hotels. There was days that I would come home and not even remember what my bedroom looked like." She props her chin up in her hand, blowing some blonde hair away from her face. 

:'''{{#var:1140|Punisher (1140)}} has posed:''' A few moments after the black Corella pulls in, a white non-descript van pulls in casually. Of course, the van itself is anything but casual. With a 'casually' dressed Punisher and enough weapons to level a small army in the back, the war has come too the Fulham Hotel. As he parks, the Punisher takes out a monocular, hiding it until he's sure the group has their back turned on him, and he brings up the device to get a visual confirmation of each, a silent photo taken of them being transmitted to Microchip's computer station elsewhere. "Yep... that's her. Looks like she's got some dirty judges in the pocket." Punisher notes grimly. "Give me an ID for the others when you can." Punisher requests of Microchip as he waits for them to enter the building. 

:'''{{#var:1122|Voodoo (1122)}} has posed:''' Coming into the lobby, Voodoo's in her boots, the black ankle length with the gold set purple stones, and jeans and a faded t-shirt, it was once host to a pattern but now...it's just faded into gray. Kind of reflects the sky outside as Voodoo steps into the doorway of her suite looking up and down the corridor. She's managed the enviable feat of stretching and not spilling coffee. It's a wonder she didn't just sleep next door, but that'd send the wrong message. So back to her own bed it was. She is wearing, as of right about now, faded jeans, a t-shirt that once had a cat on it, and her ankle length boots. Because those were the first ones she came to, literally next to her bed. And yes, she can pull off bed hair and still have it cascade down her back too. The unfamiliar minds pique her interest, and she sets about a quick mental scan of who is who, since new minds, Voodoo's on alert since she's not sure if they are friend or foe...and she's hunted by enough folks already 

:'''{{#var:9571|Tyrone Johnson (9571)}} has posed:''' Cloak doesn't generally need things like sheltered places to sleep, or running water, or beds; but Dagger does. And so he got her inside and is now sitting in one of the chairs in the corner of the room in his only other mode which is general inaction. With nothing on their plans but to relax tonight, the shadowy man is in a state of rest and quiet, likely lost in his own head until Tandy speaks. "Not hotels for us, they cost money. Though there were a few winters we'd spend a few nights in shelters till the family made enough money to pay the gas and electric up enough to turn it back on. Thankfully not too many." For now, the activities of criminals and criminal-hunters goes under his notice. 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     The Japanese woman makes her way to the first floor door, and one of the men open it. She may be linked to the Foot, but there's no files on this woman, not even a trace that she's ever existed. As for the others, one of them has a record, but it's sealed, Himato Shigeru. The other two are ghosts like the woman.     For those who sense such things, though, the woman has a most distinct presence. Not human. Not...demon. Not really. But something from beyond the mortal realm to be certain. Despite her appearance, she is filled with tension and turmoil, though not about tonight. It's something deeper, far below the surface of emotions.      Another car pulls up, this one is quite a bit flashier. Underlit by purple LEDs, a blue mustang comes gliding into the parking lot, carefully evading the potholes to pull up a few spaces away from the corolla. Two men get out of this one, not bothering with things such as umbrellas, an African American man and a white man, with matching buzzcuts, and similar bling, they hop out of the rain and under the shelter of the walk way, making their way toward the same door that the woman and her entourage entered. 

:'''{{#var:1122|Voodoo (1122)}} has posed:''' That's....odd. Voodoo's getting some strange readings off of one of them outside the hotel. Which if anything, puts her more on alert. but she just stays put. To all intents and purposes, she's drinking coffee and relaxing. That's the image she wants to project to everyone. Well, now more people have showed up, and now Priss has a feeling she knows vaguely what the woman with the emotional turmoil is...she's very much on alert now. Wonderful...so out of her doorway she goes locking it behind her, though really, who is going to break in and steal her costumes? The locking is for peace of mind, as Voodoo steps toward the lobby. All the while focusing her telepathy exclusively on those who are under the walkway, since she's fairly sure the other hotel residents are harmless. She's not bothered them really...though she does have coffee in hand still. And if any telepaths are around, her doing mental scans is like setting off a psychic, walking, air raid siren, for the second time in as many minutes. Good job, Voodoo...broadcast your location loud and clear. If anyone wants to find her and can follow the telepathic energy, she's got a telepathic flashing neon sign over her head, in other words. 

:'''{{#var:1140|Punisher (1140)}} has posed:''' Another group? They get snapshotted too by that monocular. Is that all of them? Punisher waits a few more seconds for anyone else coming to play now. 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     The two newcomes stop outside the door. "She's not gonna be happy bruh, with Meredith sayin' she didn't wanna come. She be real spazzed about that Kitsune lady," the darker skinned one says to the other.     "Man, it is what it is, we just tell her she's sick or somethin', it'll be fine, I mean, what's she gonna do? We can't make her just appear or nothin'?"     Yeah-yeah, but she ain't gonna be happy, I'm tellin' you."     The white guy knocks on the door, which is promptly answered. They disappear inside.     "Where is Meredith?" Kitsune asks in a calm but commanding tone.     "She's uh, not feelin' it tonight, you know how things get, weather messin' with her," says the white guy, motioning across his face in illustration. "But we're here, got the regular tribute and all," he pulls from his jacket a few thick stacks of bills.     "I didn't come here to pick up money," Kitsune says, "We have many people who can do that. I came to speak with Meredith."     The exchange goes back and forth a few times filled with excuses and promises for her to arrive next time. It doesn't go well, though. Suddenly, the door swings back open to the room, and the two men are backpedaling out. "We'll get her, well get her!" the black man promises. "Get her right now."     "You are lying," Kitsune says, following them out the door with a certain venom in her calm voice. The men with Kitsune file outside with her.     "Look look," the white man declares, "We're outside, y'know, we don't all want a mess people will have questions, right? Don't want to tarnish your name, we aren't lookin' for that!"     The men stand in the rain. Kitsune tilts her head to one side, there is a flash of her eyes red, and suddenly the two draw their guns. At each other?     "Yes, it would be a pity if the neighborhood had to hear of two low-lifes shooting each other in a hotel parking lot, wouldn't it?" she asks. 

:'''{{#var:742|Tandy Bowen (742)}} has posed:''' As she stares out the window, Tandy squints her eyes at the argument down below that echos upwards. She looks over towards Tyrone and clears her throat. "Something is going on down there. Argument. I heard something about people shootin each other up." Letting out a sigh, she zips her hoodie up a bit, then pulls her hood over her head. "Let's teleport down there and put some eyes on it. It's probably nothing, but if these idiots do pull guns, we should do something about it." 

:'''{{#var:9571|Tyrone Johnson (9571)}} has posed:''' Having settled back into a thoughtful quiet, Cloak turns his head at the muffled noises and Tandy's shifted attentions. "Probably not. People shoot each other all of the time, but, there's nothing good on tv anyway. Let's see what's going on." He gets up from where he was sitting and sweeps up his partner in the folds of his cloak. In a hushed noise of fabric and displaced air, the pair reappear atop the roof of the building across from the hotel. Cloak keeps one arm out as he releases Dagger, both muffling her light and keeping off the rain. 

:'''{{#var:1140|Punisher (1140)}} has posed:''' Watching through the monocular, the Punisher opens his other eye to get a better idea of the parking lot... only to see the two aiming pistols at each other. A pair of thugs shooting each other? Just saves him the trouble. It's that Kitsune person that has his attention. Mind control is not something trivial to deal with.... time for some recon. Punisher waits, turning on the shotgun mic in the van to hear the conversation. 

:'''{{#var:1122|Voodoo (1122)}} has posed:''' Hearing the conversation, Voodoo slips out the door quietly without her costume on. So jeans, boots, half top is still her attire slipping into the lot out the door by her suite. Which puts her near the group, but the door opening isn't exactly subtle, or Voodoo coming out into the rain either. Which puts her near them. Kitsune is so getting it. She's not liking both the pistol waving thugs, and it dawns on her a moment after stepping out, she's in the sights of anyone who has eyes on the lot. On the other hand, she grows fangs and claws, her eyes blazing with anger at Kitsune as she fires off a mental blast at Kitsune. Mostly to break the hold she's got on those two...and yes the claws and fangs making her look scarier is a bonus too. 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     Despite what Kitsune is, both the appearance and sudden attack from Voodoo catch her quite off guard, and the two men drop their guns, tossing them to the ground, looking at each other, and looking at the guns. They take the opportunity to bolt. They don't know if they'll make it, but they certainly won't survive if they stick around. They start running through the rain toward their car.     The countenance of Kitsune is decidedly shaken, a sneer of her lip revealing a slight transformation of her own. Her teeth look decidedly more canine than they did a moment ago. "Get her," she snarls, and the umbrellas the bodyguards were holding a moment ago are suddenly shed, revealing polished blades beneath them. Two of them burst forth with remarkable form and speed. These are not your average thugs. One blade comes overhead, while the second darts forward to Voodoo's side, twisting to swing a foot into a sweep at the rear of her ankles. 

:'''{{#var:742|Tandy Bowen (742)}} has posed:''' "At least this isn't boring." Tandy says as she peeks out from behind Cloak's long flowing robes. She gives a furrow of her brow as the umbrellas become blades. From their vantage point and unseen for now, she summons a trio of light blades in her palm, then whisks them hard as she uses her control over them to guide to their targets. If they strike, they'll be stunned for few moments, feeling a tased like sting. 

:'''{{#var:1140|Punisher (1140)}} has posed:''' When it becomes clear the two are bolting for a car, the Punisher takes up an air pistol, aims, and fires a tracker into the space between the bumper and the car itself silently. Killing them now won't give him the information he needs.. and he can always kill them later. Then, Punisher's attention is on the group once more. Well, nothing for it, now. Taking an M4 and a pair of pistols along with a shotgun, Punisher equips himself before he programs the autodrive AI to *RAM* Kitsune right into the hotel wall, if it can. The Battle Van will be driving by AI, so no one to mind control. Meanwhile, the Punisher opens the door, and starts to dash into cover as he works on making his way over to where the Battle Van will be trying to pin Kitsune against the wall. If nothing else, a large, armored van racing towards her on smart autodrive will get her attention. 

:'''{{#var:9571|Tyrone Johnson (9571)}} has posed:''' "No, it isn't. I have no idea who these people are - except him." Cloak begins to say before his eyes catch the bolting Punisher from his vantage point. "But the question is, who are they?" He doesn't leap into motion yet. Dagger's got her goals, and he's got his which is to protect his partner. He remains close to Dagger for the time being, shielding her behind his shadowy presence and taking the opportunity to study the combatants below to do a little recon of his own. "When you're ready." He says aside to Dagger, a simple acknowledgement that he's ready to move when she wants to. 

:'''{{#var:1122|Voodoo (1122)}} has posed:''' Voodoo leaps up and back when the blades and the foot sweep come at her, and she whistles. "Zealot, I'm over here" she shouts. Distraction? Yes. Unless Zealot decides to show up and join the fray, which would make Priss psychic. Well. More psychic. That whole distraction hinges on Kitsune even knowing who Zealot /is/ though as she rolls to her feet. Now she's away from the blades, well, she's not got a sword of her own. Claws however. Claws are good too, and there's that van, and the guy with enough guns to qualify as a walking armory... So Voodoo stays still, just waiting. Then, with her low end of superhuman speed, she pauses, and charges the two guards in a dead run, claws first. She's going to hate it if she gets stuck to a wall by claws, or bring chunks of wall with her, probably 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     The sound of the engine does catch Kitsune's attention, and she looks back, narrowing her eyes as the van comes careening toward her. Instead of dodging to the side she bursts forward with movement not seen from her previously, and leaps into the air at the van hands first. Before she makes contact, she materializes into a white fox, running up the windshield and over the vehicle as it slams into the hotel behind her, and lands on all fours on the other side.     The final guard follows the attention of the van toward Punisher's approach. His hand goes to his pocket, "It is a trap," he declares, unaware that the interaction with two vigilantes is just happenstance. He flings a pair of smoke pellets in the direction of Frank to obscure his sight.     The two that are engaged with Voodoo find themselves surprised as from behind they are struck with the stunning daggers, causing them both to be vulnerable as Voodoo connects with them, defenseless from Tandy's attack. 

:'''{{#var:742|Tandy Bowen (742)}} has posed:''' "You see that? That girl turned into a fox. Mutant, maybe?" Tandy asks Tyrone as she summons another three blades between her knuckles. She eyes the Punisher's van, then looks back towards the ninja lady. She seems to have things well in hand for the moment. For now, she just waits to see how the rest of this plays out as she keeps herself tucked within Cloak's folds. The Punisher most likely has the last guard and being that she still doesn't know what this is all about, she isn't looking to further intervene. "I don't think anyone is normal in New York." She mutters to Ty. 

:'''{{#var:1140|Punisher (1140)}} has posed:''' The distraction is more than enough for the Punisher to turn... and aim right at Kitsune *BANG BANG BANG* *BANG BANG BANG*. Three round bursts of stun rounds begin to pelt Kitsune from afar as the Punisher takes cover and moves between each burst.. or at least, he was about to, when that smoke bomb goes off. That has him switching targets to the asshole who threw it as he dashes across the parking lot for better vision. He's operating in guesstimates here; is that mind control line of sight based? Radius? He's about to find out. In between bursts, the Punisher rapidly plants a shock trap on the ground from where he hunkers down once he finds a vantage. He's practically all but daring Kitsune to come after him... And if she takes the bait, he has a surprise for her. "Microchip, bring out the bomber drone. I don't know if I'm about to deal with a mentalist. If she gets me, keep the bitch occupied." Punisher barks over his commlink. 

:'''{{#var:9571|Tyrone Johnson (9571)}} has posed:''' "She could be anything." Cloak murmurs aside to Tandy with a considering frown on his face. Compared to the chaos below, he's a figure of calm, but then he doesn't have any particular horse in this race to be concerned with. "No one is normal, not anymore. I am curious what this is about." He leans forward so he can get a better look over the edge of the building and down to the burgeoning chaos below. "I'm sure the cops will be here soon, they're all making enough noise. Who do you want to tail when they all bolt for cover?" 

:'''{{#var:1122|Voodoo (1122)}} has posed:''' Voodoo's stake in this is extremely simple. That is her hotel suite in there... Oh and there's a fox. Anyone bother to call Aninal Control now and report that? That is Priss's overriding thought as she fires another mental blast at the fox...thing... Then she turns on her toes with dancer like grace and makes sure the guards are out of the fight, no sense in leaving a threat capable of hurting her, but hey, connecting with them and being stunned and clawed, kind of dealt with that. Now to deal with the fox, not foxy, lady. Big, big difference there in her book as Voodoo's off and, literally, running after the fox. That last guard is a problem, but hopefully someone else can deal with him, Voodoo's focused on the fox. It's probably a good thing she's not on Halo Corp's books for /this/ mess, though really, she's considering it the more the fight goes on, she's considering it. The lack, currently, of wailing sirens has her worried, too come to think of it. 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     he fox disappears from sight, seemingly unconcerned as Punisher opens fire on her. The mental blast gets her attention, though, and she suddenly appears near Voodoo. Did she teleport? No, maybe she was already there, there seems to be a certain illusory element about her, one that makes it difficult to distinguish if she's really there or not. "Zealot," she echoes, making no offensive gestures. It's as if the voice is in her head, for the lips don't move. "I haven't seen you attempt to intervene with us before. Who are you?"     Meanwhile, Tyrone and Tandy have managed to have less attention as the remaining Foot elite is occupied with the Punisher. He disappears into the cloud of smoke as Frank relocates, and an egg shaped device hurtles toward him, bursting on his cover. It releases a white powder, metsubushi into the air. A rather painful version of a pepper bomb, filled with spices, ashes, and even some small pieces of crushed glass. 

:'''{{#var:742|Tandy Bowen (742)}} has posed:''' "See if you can swallow up all of that smoke and give Punisher some breathing room. I'll remain here and rain down the pain if I need to." Tandy says to Cloak as she squints her eyes through the chaos. As her eyes track towards the fox, she flips a light blade about her fingers, curls her arm back, then lets it fly swiftly through the air towards it. As usual, with her mental control over her blades, she'll arc it quickly from a blind side, trying to tag the creature from behind in the back and stun her as if she was struck with a giant taser. "We saw these guys before, right? The pajama ninjas." 

:'''{{#var:1122|Voodoo (1122)}} has posed:''' Voodoo grinds her teeth moree and speaks mind to mind. I am Voodoo, you would do well, to leave your illusions behind With that, she looks to the illusions and looks...well...she's not a happy camper. At least the egg shaped pepper bomb thing doesn't get to her. She's already not happy. The last thing anyone needs is Priss to go full blooded Demonite. Or, close to, anyhow. Priss keeps her lips pressed together with a glance around, looking over the lot again for a moment. Priss is so done with this fox. Looking over to the fox again, and illusion, Priss is breathing through her nose, controlling her anger, but...barely controlling it. 

:'''{{#var:1140|Punisher (1140)}} has posed:''' He's seen this before, and he's already popping on the gas mask as the Foot soldier comes at him. Kitsune will need to wait. He's dropped the M4 already and pulled his Ka-Bar, using his other hand to toss a flashbang into the smoke where the throw came from. "You assholes really need to take a hint!" Punisher almost shouts as he takes a revolver out of his gear web with his other hand and aims, firing in a quickdraw as the Ka-Bar is held below the revolver, adding a bit of stability. Punisher has no need to keep this one alive. .357 magnum rounds fire as Punisher gets an idea of where he's at, even as the Punisher himself retreats further away to keep distance and allow him to keep firing at the man. 

:'''{{#var:9571|Tyrone Johnson (9571)}} has posed:''' "We have." Cloak says with a low growl. "Call if you need me." And then he's gone in a poof. He reappears half a moment later before the spreading cloud of smoke and makeshift shrapnel with the edges of his cloak sweeping out in the same motion to try and clear some of the air. He'll not get all of it by any means, it's too fine and widespread, but it may help provide a little better visibility to the Punisher. He turns his head from the brilliance of the flashbang, though be it from actual discomfort or reflex is hard to say. Light has never seemed to bother him. Bullets don't seem to be concerning him too much either, but then he's not the target. Yet. 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     The mustang peels out of the parking space, spinning about and then going into gear. The flashbang has the ninja disoriented for the moment as he himself takes cover from the incoming bullets, trying to regain his orientation. Of course, the flashbang itself makes it difficult for the ninja in the suit to be aware of Cloak's presence at the moment, even though he is very nearby.     Meanwhile, the fox chuckles at Voodoo's threat. "You live in an entire illusion..." whatever you are," she says. "An illusion that this is the real world. An illusion that...she examines the woman's form, "that you belong to it." She watches as the car pulls away, and then looks back at Voodoo. "As much as I'd love to have this conversation sometime, I'm afraid I have more pressing matters to attend-" she's cut short as the dagger strikes her, and she lets out a yip just as a fox might. She isn't quite as stunned as a person might expect, but it did certainly have an effect, and she spins around, looking up at the location Dagger threw from. 

:'''{{#var:1122|Voodoo (1122)}} has posed:''' Voodoo narrows her gaze on the fox as she's stunned...and Voodoo takes then to cede the fight to those up above her, literally. It's on them now as Voodoo doesn't respond to the fox, instead backing away and seeking cover while this winds down. She's done her bit. Probably angered the Foot, and all in all, she's still got her hotel suite to return to, but...but...maybe it's time to move and find somewhere new to live. Especially if the Foot figure out where a possible threat to them is at, 

:'''{{#var:742|Tandy Bowen (742)}} has posed:''' "Heh. That got your attention." Dagger mutters to herself as she steps to the side to try and get out of sight. She isn't in costume and thus hardly stands out amongst a number of people watching curiously. She's just a girl in a hoodie with a hint of blonde hair peeking otu from it. That is, if anyone can see her from that height. Down below the window, she holds another light blade in her hand, out of sight, just in case she needs to defend herself. 

:'''{{#var:1140|Punisher (1140)}} has posed:''' A speed loader replaces the spend casings, and the Punisher brings up the revolver again... aiming, and firing once the ninja is in plain sight, going for headshots or center mass, whichever seems to be easier, given his somewhat clouded vision. It's around this time the bomber drone finally manages to join the fray as well. Up above, the large drone isn't stealthy by any means. In fact, the engine is noisy and relentless... but that's because it needs to be able to go fast /AND/ carry it's explosive payload bay... ... which as it flies over the Foot soldier distracted by the Punisher's revolver, mini-bomblets begin to be precision bombed on Kitsune, courtesy of Microchip piloting it. She is, after all, Punisher's primary target. the Foot ninja is just an annoyance. 

:'''{{#var:9571|Tyrone Johnson (9571)}} has posed:''' With the Punisher continuing to fire towards the ninja and his drone dropping bombs, Cloak seems to decide this is a warzone he doesn't need to be involved in. Besides, he has someone to protect. Once satisfied there's enough visibility for the Punisher not to take a surprise ninja to the back, the shadowy man vanishes once more from the street. He reappears back behind Tandy with a sour noise. "Time to go before they start aiming at us." He waits only long enough for confirmation from his partner before the pair vanish in a rush of fabric and air and don't reappear anywhere visible in the immediate vicinity. 

:'''{{#var:1122|Voodoo (1122)}} has posed:''' Something less subtle than Priss? alright, Voodoo wasn't expecting that one. See, the chaos is a great time to run away and hide. No need to get a bomb dropped on her head, nope. Punisher got this on his own, thanks. There she goes, running for cover. That fox is right, though. Voodoo doesn't belong, but she still sticks around anyhow. Either way, there she goes, outta the fight and she's running away. Time to find a new place to call home. 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     As the small bombs release, they detonate across the lot. And everyone thought there were potholes BEFORE tonight. Kitsune disappears into the explosions as smoke plumes across the neighborhood. Sirens can be heard wailing moments later. Surely someone in the building has called the police by now.     As the flames in the lot reveal where Kitsune had been standing, she isn't there. Where she is...is a mystery, but she seems gone, as if she had been nothing more than a vapor to begin with. The two unconscious suited elites remain against the crashed van, and the third ninja retreats, taking a magnum round to his collarbone. He is knocked prone, clenching his teeth and gripping the wound.     The other two are long gone, having taken the best choice, they fled the scene first. 

:'''{{#var:1140|Punisher (1140)}} has posed:''' "I don't like this..." Punisher mumbles. Then, he whispers into the commlink. "Micro, pull the drone back and get the van back to the street. This ones a bust. As the Punisher begins to dash towards the street, firing the last of his revolver rounds towards the ninja, he holsters it just as it runs out of ammo... and grabs his M4 he dropped, switching to automatic fire as he floods the air where the ninja is with stun rounds in suppression fire. All this exertion has worked the pepper gas into his nose now though, and he gives a big hacking cough from it working it's way in. Meanwhile, the Battle Van is mostly operational... but the sounds of the engine dying can be heard. The two knocked out ninja get a glance... Without eyes on Kitsune, not worth the risk. 
}}

12388/Setting the Stage

2020-10-27T17:53:33Z

GodsKnite: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2020/10/27 |Location=Bushwick (Mutant Town), Brooklyn |Synopsis=Magneto and Shredder meet about setting the stage for an altercation to benefit the..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2020/10/27
|Location=Bushwick (Mutant Town), Brooklyn
|Synopsis=Magneto and Shredder meet about setting the stage for an altercation to benefit the mutant cause.
|Cast of Characters=221,1233
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:221|Magneto (221)}} has posed:'''     It is a lovely autumn day in Mutant Town. The sun is out and the sky is blue. As October is giving way to November, the air is turning crisp and a light breeze makes its way through the streets. There are shoppers and business people moving along the streets, but also the occasional tourist that hopes to see mutants that they only read about in places like Topeka.     It is around 3pm so it is tea time for the Master of Magnetism. He seated at an outdoor cafe but in the sunlight so not as chilly. Even so, he wears a long overcoat, gray in color, with leather gloves. He wears a fadora on his head pulled slightly forward to cast a shadow over his face. Unless someone takes a hard look at him, it is doubtful they will recognize Erik Lehnsherr. He has a cup of tea in front of him with a curl of steam visible clearly in the cool air. He appears, at first glance, to be alone, but more careful study will see a man and a woman, dressed in brown overcoats, seated at neighboring tables with their attention on Magneto while trying to not look too obvious about it. 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     Tea. While from a different background, the Japanese businessman also has a respect for tea. Oroku Saki enters the cafe. He's not known for an abundance of warmth wherever he travels, but for a someone intimidating level of professionalism. Polite, friendly in a way, but not someone usually regarded as a close friend. Very few would say that. He is alone as he walks into the coffee shop.     He approaches Erik's table, and sits down without a hesitation in his movement. "Mr. Lehnsherr," he says, a slight nod of his dark haired head, the stray silver streaks available to show he's not as remarkably young as he appears. Of course, those who know him know he's not young at all, an immortal with several hundred years of conquest behind him. There is even metal on him, a kunai. Certainly not for protection from someone who controls metal, but also a certain statement that he's not afraid of that power, either.     As for his protection, they aren't seen, though no doubt they are somewhere nearby. Identities of ninjas are difficult to discern, whether they hide in shadows or in tea shop uniforms. He doesn't take the cup to pour his own tea, but instead folds his hands politely before him. 

:'''{{#var:221|Magneto (221)}} has posed:'''     Erik nods to Oroku Saki as the other man takes a seat. "Good afternoon. Thank you for meeting with me." He reaches over and turns the teacup upward in front of Saki. He uses his other hand to pick up the teapot and pour tea for his guest. He sets the pot back down and settles back into his chair. There is a quick glance towards the man seated near by who gives a very slight nod. Erik looks back to Saki. "I want to say first," he says with still that slightest European accent in his voice, "that I do appreciate the work you do in this area. I cannot be here each and everyday, but your presence here on a regular basis allows me to relax at some ways." 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     Saki takes the cup with both hands before smelling it and drinking it, a sign of respect. "Your appreciation is noted, and I am happy to be able to give that protection," he says. His voice has a firm power to it, and a hint of that Japanese accent colors his tone. "Many do fear your kind, which is unnecessary, and ultimately futile. Change is a part of the natural order of the world, and the mutants are the change that is before our world today." Somewhat paradoxical, considering most of his followers bear weapons of rather archaic nature. 

:'''{{#var:221|Magneto (221)}} has posed:'''     "Most fear change especially when it comes at their expense." Erik takes his own teacup and takes a sip. His has cream and sugar in it keeeping with the European style. He flicks his eyes towards the cream and sugar and then back to Saki as if to offer without a word. "I do have to admit that I would to if it were mutants who were the normal, and we were being replaced. Still, that is not the way of things, and I will not abide mutants being mistreated or becoming second class citizens." He folds his hands together on the table as he makes eye contact. "Which is why I asked you to be here today. I have a plan I wish to set in motion, and could use your assisstance in this matter." 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     "I, too, once fought a battle not unlike your own, though in a different land and a different time." Saki sits back, his sharp and pressed business suit's navy contrasting the colors of the concrete and buildings behind him. "Tell me, what is it that you need?" he asks. 

:'''{{#var:221|Magneto (221)}} has posed:'''     "I wish to force the hand of the humans. Wind them up and let their own tendencies run amuck." Erik's voice remains calm and quiet even as his eyes narrow. No one walking by the cafe would notice anything from the tone of voice or posture of the two men. "If a young mutant was attacked and the police intervened, perhaps incorrectly as well, this would cause a massive uproar among my people. Heads would be called for. Figurtively, of course, but perhaps some may want more literally too. Of course, I would take this as a chance to appear in public. Call more to my own cause. A fight is coming eventually, and it would be better to have mutants united rather than divided." 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     There is a tapping of the teacup with one finger as Saki listens, holding it casually. "You wish for an inciting incident to justify...war?" he asks. "By and large, peace has been maintained in Mutant Town, naturally with exceptions. A prominent event like that would not be...beneficial to the image of the Foot with the mutants. What gain would it give my cause?" he asks. "I can, of course, put pieces into place so that such a thing would happen. My ability to influence the NYPD easily extends to getting some less savory officers assigned to a location they might have a racial grudge against. So explain to me how I should benefit from this?" 

:'''{{#var:221|Magneto (221)}} has posed:'''     Erik shakes his head. "Not war. Just an increase in tension. Perhaps a march or two to start with. As I said, I want to unite the mutants around a singular cause. I am under no delusions that one incident would do it. This is merely a step towards that. Give them a face rather than just concepts to fight for." He shifts in his chair slightly as he takes another sip of the tea before continuing. "For the Foot, you would have a more united area of operations here in Mutant Town. You would have less chance of interference from do gooders not on the payroll. I am certain you would find it easier to recruit to your cause, and I would not discourage mutants from doing so. I will not try to peel off mutants to strictly my own. We could easily split Mutant Town into Spheres of Influence rather than rivals which we would eventually become given both our interests in mutants." 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     "I see," Saki answers, "And what of support? Would you support them joining the ranks of an organization which values not the race of its member, but the loyalty to it as a family? I will not make pretense to experience all of the woes of the mutant population, nor pretend that individually I am as concerned for them as you are. But those who join the Foot, join a family, and protection of that family IS my chief concern. It is what brought the Foot from a gaggle of peasants to be the most dangerous underworld organization this world knows." Of course, there are some others that might argue that position, but it doesn't look like Shredder has any place for a differing position.     "The Foot operates in the shadows. We are not the sand castles on the beach. We are the waves beneath. The current." He points casually. "The thought of your joint influence, though, that is another matter. Those who dwell in the depths do not dwell on land. It could be beneficial to have a greater presence than the mere puppets which I have. Self-proclaimed heroes have come close already to unseating my puppets, and it would be advantageous to have those in public power who genuinely have a shared common goal." 

:'''{{#var:221|Magneto (221)}} has posed:'''     "Indeed. While you feel that the Foot is the current, there are always others. The shadows keep seeming to get crowded each day. To pair within the Light," Erik uses the name of the shared orginization purposefully, "gives both of us power in both arenas." He leans forward and drops his voice slightly. "We all need allies which is why we often meet with Luthor and his ilk." 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     "Indeed," Saki agrees with a nod. He takes another sip of his coffee. "I agree to this. I shall see to it that two undiscerning officers are placed in mutant town. Bigots have a way of showing themselves, and usually have the ignorance to create messes on their own given enough time and lack of supervision. However, if they look to mortally wound one of the mutants there, I will still have the Foot intervene," he cautions, acknowledging that there is a degree of unpredictable nature to the set up. 

:'''{{#var:221|Magneto (221)}} has posed:'''     "Agreed." Erik says with a nod. "As you will provide the police officers, I can provide the mutant. I would not allow one of mine to be killed either so I believe we are on the same page in that regard." The man and woman pair behind Erik begin to stand up and move away from the tables and towards the sidewalks. "Thank you meeting with me, and I look forward to our cooperations." 
}}

12343/City Fall: Just Friendly Neighbors

2020-10-16T20:14:06Z

GodsKnite: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2020/10/16 |Location=Bushwick (Mutant Town), Brooklyn |Synopsis=Shannon, Andrea, and Nevada case out the Mutant Cultural Museum. |Cast of Character..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2020/10/16
|Location=Bushwick (Mutant Town), Brooklyn
|Synopsis=Shannon, Andrea, and Nevada case out the Mutant Cultural Museum.
|Cast of Characters=1233,8765,1790,9627
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     The drizzle is chilly, the light patters of raindrops striking the old smoke shop sign down the street from the museum. The rain gently pools at the edges of the street, trickling toward who knows what that lives beneath the streets of the mutant dominated district. Rocky, the Part-time curator of the Mutant Cultural Museum, exits Rey's Smoke Shop. Rey is known as one of the supporters of the Family publicly. He's someone that often even acts as a conduit when a mutant has a problem, and they don't know who to turn to.     Rocky doesn't have an umbrella, but he does wear an old high school hoody with the hood up. The large man is built like a mountain, and his shoulders spike through the sweatshirt, stony spikes having pierced the ash-colored fabric. Such is the life. He glances back and forth at the intersection, waiting for traffic to pass as he makes his way toward the museum. 

:'''{{#var:8765|Shannon (8765)}} has posed:'''      Of late, Shannon and Andrea had been seeing a bit more eye-to-eye, and it was refreshing. So what's a girl to do when hanging out with a popstar? Why, head for the local greasy spoon, of course! Though she limps along a bit, favoring her right side, the winged teen is all smiles, extending one wing over Andrea's head like an umbrella; the raindrops roll right off of each feather, dripping onto the ground from each slightly ragged tip. She herself is in blue jeans, her favorite caramel suede boots--waterproofed, naturally--and a bronze-hued cable knit sweater. She doesn't seem to mind the fowl weather, but instead seems rather upbeat as the two make their way towards the diner.      "I know you get spoiled by all that fancy food," she says, chuckling softly. "But seriously, you haven't lived till you've had the burgers from this place!" 

:'''{{#var:1790|Andrea (1790)}} has posed:''' "What makes you think I haven't had them?" Andrea says with an amused noise in her throat. "I don't sit in my Penthouse all day eating caviar you know. Jay is a Southern boy and Nevada." She motions to her twin brother next to her. "Is a living garbage can. I grew up on street tacos and burritos back home in San Francisco. I only treat myself when I want to give my friends an experience. Otherwise, I'm mostly tossing back Pringles and whatever I can stick in the microwave on my cheat days." Today the popstarlet is wearing a pair of snug black jeans with tears along the thighs and knees, as well as a NYU hoodie with the hood pulled back since Shannon is using her wing to keep the water off them. She has an umbrella in her hands, but she is appeasing her friend's willingness to help. "We had chili dogs last night, right bro?" She teases her twin. 

:'''{{#var:9627|Nevada (9627)}} has posed:''' Nevada is warding off the water with a thick, blue plaid hoodie that's under a lighter weight black denim jacket. He doesn't seem to mind the weather as he walks along with his hands in his jacket pockets. "We do eat a lot of Poptarts and Twizzlers. Fancy food is nice to look at, but have you ever had a high class dinner where you didn't leave hungry? Grease is good for you. If it's made by someone who's a grandma, even better." He doesn't pay much mind to Rocky or anyone else on the street. People walked on the streets, that was nothing new, especially not in New York City. 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     Rocky makes his way across the street with the light, his feet splashing in the mild puddles across the faded paint, and he skips up to the street. He pulls his hands from his pockets, striking the lock with the key fob to unlock the museum. He opens the door and sets the lock to stay open behind him, the lights flipping on and he sheds his hoody, rubbing his hand across the buzzed blond of his head. Beneath he has a longsleeved t-shirt, also pierced by his shoulder spikes, and he begins opening the museum and switching on the display lights for the afternoon. 

:'''{{#var:8765|Shannon (8765)}} has posed:'''      Ever since the encounter with Shredder--known simply to Shannon as Mr. Oroku--she was both curious and apprehensive about visiting the museum. Her path along the sidewalk slows as she sees the lights turned on, her smile only fading somewhat. Glancing over to Andrea and Nevada, she shrugs, shaking her head. "Hey, how am I supposed to know what you two eat? You were usually training or practicing for shows and all that!"      Though she does chuckle, she glances back at the museum, her brows furrowing ever so slightly. "That place any good? I mean, you know..." Her voice trails off, remembering all too well Andrea's rather visceral reaction to the museum's owner the last time they had been this way. 

:'''{{#var:1790|Andrea (1790)}} has posed:''' "Well, yeah .. when I'm training for tour I have to nitpick every calorie and make sure my abs can be used to wash clothes on. But now that I'm in college and I'm not traveling, I am enjoying real food again." Andrea says with a grin as she glances over to her brother with a laugh. "But I'm still working out. I can't let Jay have the only set of sick abs in the house. He has a crazy body though because of his powers." As they slow down at the sight of the museum, she gives a visible frown upon her face. "I don't know." She says as she folds her arms over her chest. "I do not trust the management obviously. Not after what he did to me. I've been working with Mister Worthington through X-Corp and Starlight to see what other pieces of property he may be buying up. This makes me sick knowing he's involved in our neighborhood." 

:'''{{#var:9627|Nevada (9627)}} has posed:''' "I'm easy. I eat anything, I just like some things more than others." Nevada remarks to Shannon with a wide and toothy grin. He gives his sister a sidelong look and a tut of noise before poking his coated midsection, "Hey now, mine aren't so bad. They're just a little crooked, that's all. And I like cheeseburgers, but if I didn't pound food I'd be a shriveled bone in days." Joys of hyperactive metabolisms, the food burns off faster than it can be used to build muscle. He follows the gaze of the girls towards the museum, and while his expressions are curious they're calmer. "People don't like roaches, but good luck getting rid of them. So long as they stay small, they're not an issue." 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     The museum is officially opened, and Rocky goes about making sure all of the aspects are clean. It's been a couple of minutes when a Japanese woman with a sleek black business suit approaches, black umbrella in her hand. She's young, only slightly older than the walking trio, but she walks with a certain air that would suggest she's much older. She enters the museum, shaking off the umbrella and closing it before she enters. 

:'''{{#var:8765|Shannon (8765)}} has posed:'''      "Well, that leaves us two options," Shannon remarks, keeping her voice hushed. "One, we just walk on by. Two, we scope this place out, see what he's got in there. Use the artwork to get into his head. Sort of like some sci-fi characters do." She hesitates near the entrance, at once drawn to and yet repelled by the place.      The talk of abs, training, and hyperactive metabolisms elicits a rather pronounced eyeroll from the winged teen, and she laughs. "Yeah, okay, I hear you there. Though I don't wanna know about Jay's abs. Frak, that'd be like asking about Sam's. They're both my adoptive brothers! I mean... sorry, that's just... ewwwww!" 

:'''{{#var:1790|Andrea (1790)}} has posed:''' "Sam has decent abs, but Jay's body is a ten." Andrea says with a teasing grin to Shannon, brows waggling. "Every /inch/ of him is .." She trails off, then lets out a soft laugh before she shakes her head. "Anyways, I've already been inside. It's small. Just a bunch of artwork and other pieces of mutant history. Nothing too exciting or anything I can't learn from a Google search. If it wasn't for the fact dickhead owns it, I'd be really appreciative of it." Taking in a deep breath, she lets it out, folding her arms over her chest. "And I don't feell safe, not after what he tried to do to me last time. I'm sure I could you know.. do my thing and tear him into pieces, but I mean more like I don't feell 'safe', safe. Rich people like that who has no issue trying to manipulate or blackmail in clear public have the resources and means to not worry about consequence." "I know people in Hollywood like that. Powerful people in the industry with grabby hands. They get away with murder. I feel like he's one of those types." 

:'''{{#var:9627|Nevada (9627)}} has posed:''' "At the same time, you can't let them intimidate you either." Nevada murmurs quietly as he walks, his eyes turned still towards the museum and watching the woman as she walks in. "Cowed silence is what they hope for, but sounds like you're not going down that route. Maybe I can hang around and watch it, get a feel for who comes in and out. No one questions a stray dog snoozing in an alley." 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     Inside, Rocky finishes up the opening chores, and sits down, he still has view of the door, and he pulls out his book. The Once and Future King. Magneto liked it, so...he should probably read it. That guy is pretty smart. He seems fairly normal enough, other than the spikes coming out of his shoulders. He might even seem intimidating to some, though, given that he stands 6'8" and has his obvious mutation on display. He's built like a truck as well, if girls are talking about muscles, there aren't many who can best him in that department. 

:'''{{#var:8765|Shannon (8765)}} has posed:'''      Shannon shrugs once more, and glances towards the museum. "Well, I suppose it beats standing out here in the rain just talking about it." Chuckling, she starts towards the museum, taking a couple steps before glancing back over her shoulder at Nevada and Andrea. "You two coming in? I mean, you -are- talking to a trouble magnet. Just ask Mr. Proudstar. Or anybody back home." 

:'''{{#var:1790|Andrea (1790)}} has posed:''' Glancing over to Nevada, Andrea shrugs her shoulders upwards, then leans in to bump against him gently in a sibling manner. "Yeah, we're coming." She says as she starts after her, giving a long stretch of her body. As she passes through the door, she gives a glance over to Rocky, offering him up a big smile as she goes. Sliding her phone out of her pocket, she taps along the glass a few times to answer a quick text before tucking it in once more into her front left side. "So, here we are." She says as she presses her lips together in a thin line. 

:'''{{#var:9627|Nevada (9627)}} has posed:''' Nevada ambles along with Andrea and Shannon, staying to the right and flank of his sister as they approach and step through the door. There's a faint bob of his head towards Rocky as they'd pass him, but his eyes don't linger too long and are turning to take in the interior of the building. "Hm. I always did kind of wonder how old mutations - at least this definition - have existed. But I guess who knows, intelligence itself could have been one. Humans are a lot different than other animals, that's for sure." 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     As he hears the entry, Rocky immediately puts down the book, standing to his feet. His shirt reads the name of the museum on it, and he offers a big smile, quite contrary to his naturally intimidating size. "Hi there! Welcome to the Mutant Cultural Museum," he chimes. "I'm Rocky. I'm happy to help you out with anything you need while you're here." He reaches out to each hand to shake it. He pauses when he sees Andrea. "You...you look a lot like Andrea Jackson," he says, a suspicious smile that someone might have when he wonders if he really is talking to a celebrity. 

:'''{{#var:8765|Shannon (8765)}} has posed:'''      Shannon manages to stifle a giggle immediately upon shaking Rocky's hand, one wing furling around in front of her face to hide her mirth. Pale azure eyes twinkle merrily, and she glances over at Nevada. A light nudge to his ribs, a faint quirk of her eyebrows, and a small smile tells it all. But she says nothing about Andrea's identity, either to confirm or deny. "Pleasure to meet you, Rocky."      Let the games begin. 

:'''{{#var:1790|Andrea (1790)}} has posed:''' "Hey, Rocky." Andrea says to the large man with a smile on her face. She blows some whisps of bangs away from her eyes, reaching out to take his hand. "Yes, I'm Andrea Jackson. Was just in the area with some friends and figured we would pop in to take a quick tour." There is no point in denying who she is. She is easily recognizable. "Love the spikes by the way." She says honestly to him with a grin. "It's nice to meet you." She gives a glance to Shannon and her brother, then back to him. "Slow day?" 

:'''{{#var:9627|Nevada (9627)}} has posed:''' "Hey, man, good to meetcha." Nevada greets as he takes the offered hand shake. Anything else is just rude, after all. His is a firm grip with surprisingly strong hands for all they look lean, but nothing abnormally so. "Looks like you just opened, so guess it wouldn't be too busy yet." He comments while glancing around. Looking at the exhibits, or looking for the woman who'd come through the doors earlier? "Works for me, easier to appreciate things without a crowd." 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     "Oh?" Rocky says, "Oh yeah, Karai," he answers Nevada. "She helps with some of the paperwork around here. Good kid," he says. "But yeah, not every day we get famous folks in here." He has a slightly star struck look in his eye, one he's trying hard to hide. "Hard to say if we're slow, yeah we just opened the doors a few minutes ago. Pulling a double shift since with the rain, work's cancelled right now, and the Friday guy was sick. Not that it matters, anything you want to learn about? I'm pretty well up on all the exhibits." 

:'''{{#var:8765|Shannon (8765)}} has posed:'''      It was taking a little getting used to, seeing the star-struck look in people's eyes when they looked over at Andrea. It was something Shannon just didn't understand. To her, Andrea was just another normal person, who just happened to have a big job in music. So she just flashes a bemused smile, chuckles softly, and shakes her head. "Well, Rocky, to be honest, I've never been in here. So... I guess start from the beginning? Maybe learn a little about the history of this museum as well as the exhibits." 

:'''{{#var:1790|Andrea (1790)}} has posed:''' "I have been here before when you all first opened, but my two friends here haven't been. By all means, give us the grand tour if you want and strut your stuff. I hope you don't mind if I take a work call here and there between exhibits." Andrea says as she tucks some hair back behind her ear. She files the name of Karai away in the back of her mind. 

:'''{{#var:9627|Nevada (9627)}} has posed:''' "Yeup, first time." Nevada confirms as he gestures with a hand towards their surroundings, "Heard it was a spot to stop when in town. Obviously there's not exactly a lot of museums of this type out there, yet anyway. But, that means you probably have some exclusive stuff since the venues are few and far between. Gives you a benefit of less competition for exhibition pieces." 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     "Well," Rocky offers, "This floor focuses on the origins of the mutant gene. There's a lot of things unknown, but there's indication that the gene may have existed for over a thousand years, even though it's limelight has only started to come to the surface now," Rocky takes the trio through a timeline exhibit, showcasing possible links as far back as ancient Egypt, up to the early AD, then to the middle ages and witch hunts. Stories of fairies, werewolves and vampires, linking them to possible existence of mutant genes throughout the ages. "Of course, it's not certain, some may just be legends, but some might have reality with them. After all, we have people who can fly now, who would expect that to be a true story?" R    Rocky points to a thanks placard on the wall. "As for the history of this place, Oroku Saki - Saki is his first name, it's a Japanese thing - one of his ventures is a genetics research lab. They came across some discovery that seemed to tie closely to the nature of the gene, and ways it could cure diseases when artificially produced. During the study, some of the mutants they were working with were attacked and murdered by Friends of Humanity, and that prompted Mr. Oroku to realize just how desperate the cause was for mutants. He established a branch of his industry and a new company to help mutants get properly compensated for their skills, and has done a lot of work helping the community, even including founding this educational museum." 

:'''{{#var:8765|Shannon (8765)}} has posed:'''      Shannon presses her lips together in a thin line at the mention of Friends of Humanity, her wings ruffling and spreading out behind her in a distinct show of distaste and irritation. "I've... run into my share of their handiwork, or rather, cleaning up their mess." Her tone has gone clipped, and her words, rather acerbic. Beyond that, she says little, with only the occasional flick of her eyebrows, or rustle of her wings as they flick and settle behind her with some effort.      The talk of the genetics lab has her lofting her brows, peering over at Rocky. Canting her head to one side, she considers him for a moment, pursing her lips just a bit. "Genetics lab? Huh. That's way over my head, and I was hoping to study medicine one day. What kind of cures was he hoping for?" 

:'''{{#var:1790|Andrea (1790)}} has posed:''' The look upon Andrea's face is unreadable. She is an actress after all. She just smiles and bobs her head as she listens to the tour, tapping away at her phone at times in her hands. She is jotting down a couple of notes in her secure app that looks very much like a text message screen. 

:'''{{#var:9627|Nevada (9627)}} has posed:''' "Makes sense that the genes would have been around. Basic biology. A single mutation takes generations to spread through a population." See? Nevada did pay attention during his school work. Maybe he's not as lazy as he seems. "Even several different mutations would. Unless there was some outside trigger, but the potential would still need to be there." He absently folds his hands behind his back, if only to subtly help support his spine. "History does love it's genocide. Sad that as much history is earmarked by the horrible events as it is the good ones." 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     Rocky nods to Shannon, "Yeah, I think a lot of us have. About a year ago, some crazies attacked Alison Blaire, right in that coffee shop down the street. I was standin' right there when it happened." There's a certain pride, "Saved her life, got shot and everything." He taps his gut where he was shot, though isn't so crass as to lift his shirt. "Tried to get a date out of it, ALMOST got it." There's a certain sparkle in his eye, he gives off a genuine vibe as someone who likes to help others. "Mutants, we're family, y'know, we gotta act like it. A lot of us don't got anybody but each other."     Those who might have extrasensory perceptions might realize that another person is in the room now. Karai's entry was nigh undetectable. No sound, and contrary to her counterpart, she seems to have almost no presence at all, as if someone who could disappear from attention even as you look at her. So when she speaks from behind the group, there's almost an air of disembodiment of her voice for those who didn't notice her coming. "Rocky, you didn't ask her," she says. "I'm sure you could at least have gotten coffee if you actually asked."     "I was going to ask her! But the cops came and all the questions," he looks back at the group, and shrugs. "Just how it goes." 

:'''{{#var:8765|Shannon (8765)}} has posed:'''      Shannon lets out a short, sharp laugh, shaking her head, reaching over to gingerly pat Rocky on the hand. "Ha! Sounds like you have -my- sort of luck on the dating scene. You've got my sympathy. 'Almost' only counts in horseshoes and nuclear warfare." Her smile takes on a somewhat pensive quality, and she nods slowly, lost in thought for a moment.      "True enough. Oftentimes, all mutants have is each other... EEK!" Karai's return is greeted with a startled yelp, and the sudden, rather abrupt spread of very large, very feathery, fairly strong wings. Those standing closest to her had best be quick on the draw to duck, in order to avoid either being knocked over, with a faceful of feathers, or both! 

:'''{{#var:1790|Andrea (1790)}} has posed:''' There is a small 'sniff' from Andrea and she glances over toward Karai after she speaks. That wolf's nose is sharp and has only grew stronger after years of practice. If she had wolf ears, they would be twitching. "Well, Rocky, if you still want a chance to meet her, I can ask her for you. We just finished a tour together and so I still have her phone number. I'm sure she'd like to meet the guy who saved her life for some coffee and maybe an autograph." The presence of the new woman doesn't startle her, though it does give her a bit of wary. She is quiet. 'Too' quiet. She studies her for a long moment before she looks back to Rocky, giving Shannon a nudge to try and move out of the way of erect wings. "Shannon, you don't have bad luck at dating. You're a hot blonde with angel wings. You literally can just roll up to any guy and tell them to bark like a dog and they'd do it. Boys are dumb for hot girls. Hot angel girls? It's a lock. You know...unless they're gay. Even then. I know a few dudes that woulda boned Madonna." Giving a nod of her head to Nevada, she nudges his shoulder with hers before she taps away at her phone again. "But, yes. Mutants /should/ have each other's backs. Even if it means hooking a new friend up with a celebrity crush for coffee." 

:'''{{#var:9627|Nevada (9627)}} has posed:''' There's a faint snort from Nevada at the bark like a dog comment, but he does bump his shoulder back against his sister's. Thankfully Andrea is also between him and flailing wings, though it doesn't mean he's not forced to lean away. "Ah, Miss Kurai, yes? Good to meet you." Nevada says perfectly casual and polite-like before looking back to Rocky. "Guess it never hurts to ask, right? Worst that happens is she says no or that she's too busy and never actually schedules a time. Never gonna land the big one if you never toss some bait in the pond." 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     Rocky isn't sure how to respond for a moment, "Well..." he says, "I mean, sure, I wouldn't fight it," he laughs, scratching the back of his head like a nervous schoolboy. "Anyway, though, you didn't come to talk about my dating life." He waves it away. "Karai, these kids were just here to view the museum. Karai here is actually Mr. Oroku's granddaughter. She comes and helps out with a lot of things around here when she has time." Of course, 'kids' may be a loose term. Rocky looks to be in his thirties.     Karai nods. "Yes, that's true," she says, a certain formality about her tone. "It's good to see the museum being appreciated. My grandfather wants nothing more than to be able to help the mutants of the world to feel safer and more secure. It's pretty terrible the way you've been treated through history, and we want to see it change. It's natural enough for mutants to fight for mutant rights, but we need more humans who are willing to fight for them as well." 

:'''{{#var:8765|Shannon (8765)}} has posed:'''      Granddaughter? Shannon's brows lofted, and she smiles, crossing her arms and forcing herself to relax enough to draw her wings back in. "I'd never have figured Mr. Oroku to have a granddaughter," she remarks. "May we all wear our years so lightly."      However, a million and one questions were going through her mind, none of which bore repeating in present compoany. The churning of the gears in her mind, however, might be evidenced by the more alert, intent posture, and the appraising glance given to Karai. "In the end, we're all branches of the same family tree. I'd like to hope that coexistence is possible, somehow." 

:'''{{#var:1790|Andrea (1790)}} has posed:''' There is a small twitch on Andrea's face at the sound of Kurai being the grand-daughter. After sending off a text, her phone chimes and she glances down at it. She gives a small smile, then steps in closer to Rocky. She leans in and holds her phone up and takes a picture of them for a quick selfie, then sends it off. "Miss Blaire says to give you a hug /and/ to get your phone number. She remembers you. It's a date." She gives a glance back towards the Asian woman, then back to her two friends again as she takes in a deep breath. "I agree. It would be nice if more humans would fight for the side of mutants with /good/ intentions because they truly do care about our people. The worst thing that can happen is people trying to take advantage of us in the process. It's one thing to tweet something, it's another to step in front of the bullet yourself." Scratching the side of her neck where a scar is seen beneath her ear, she clears her throat. "I should get going though. Work stuff as usual. Rocky, hit me with those digits so I can get you a date with a popstar." 

:'''{{#var:9627|Nevada (9627)}} has posed:''' "That's the rub for sure. Too often philanthropy is just capitalism with a veneer of brotherhood over it." Nevada says with a defeated sort of shrug. "But hey, if humanity can evolve physically, maybe it can evolve spiritually and mentally too. We can only hope there's a light at the long, dark tunnel of human nature." As his sister mentions having to go, he gives a single nod of his head as he remarks, "We can always swing back later for a closer look when time allows. Maybe I'll do that myself this afternoon if you're gonna be busy." 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     There's a smirk from Karai as Andrea declares the success, and she shakes her head. "Congratulations Rocky," she says. Rocky is a little disoriented when there is such a quick turnaround, and his smile is only half present during the selfie. "Cool, wow," he says, a little surprised. He rattles his phone number off, and then adds. "Run out of time already?" he asks. "Too bad, you'll have to come back and finish it sometime."     Karai doesn't remark back at the veiled implications of veiled deceit, but she doesn't look ruffled by it, either. "It's a shame you have to go already," she agrees. "I hope all three of you will have more opportunity later. Rocky, when you get free, I wanted to go over a couple of line items on the budget with you." She doesn't offer a farewell, not formally but turns and walks back up the steps. 
}}

12226/Just a Quick Stop

2020-10-06T17:13:12Z

GodsKnite: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2020/09/22 |Location=Archie Goodwin International Airport, Gotham |Synopsis=Zinda, Sandy, and June head to an upstate crook's farmhouse to get some..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2020/09/22
|Location=Archie Goodwin International Airport, Gotham
|Synopsis=Zinda, Sandy, and June head to an upstate crook's farmhouse to get some info. It goes mostly well.
|Cast of Characters=817,9635,1787
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:817|Lady Blackhawk (817)}} has posed:'''     Once airborne, the Blackhawk helicopter accelerates to cruise speed with its lone passenger. In the cockpit is none other than Lady Blackhawk herself, garbed in a black flight suit, leather jacket, and captain's hat. She speaks to her passenger through the intercom now. "Alright now, sugah, we got one stop t'make on our way. New team member, an' all that. You'll like her."     Zinda angles the big bird towards Lenox Hill Hospital in New York City. Shutting off the exterior lights as they approach the metroplex, she drops down below radar and turns on the nap-of-the-earth sensor suite. "Might be a bit hairy, since we'll be dodgin' buildings." she warns. Flipping another switch, the rotor noise almost disappears as the chopper goes into 'whisper' mode.     Nurse Billings received a text message earlier, stating that her services were required tonight. There was also a pickup time that she was supposed to be waiting on the roof. And coincidentally enough, her supervisor told her that she could leave early... about an hour before the pickup. 

:'''{{#var:9635|Sandra Billings (9635)}} has posed:''' Standing on the roof is Sandy Billings, who is wearing her scrubs top and a pair of jeans. She looks tired, but curious as she looks around the roof to see exactly who it is that she is meeting up here. Surely Superman isn't needing her to put a bandaid on. At least she had the good sense to give her beloved blueberry, Hank McCoy, a head's up just in case. You know, just in case she gets tossed off a room tonight. Taking a long sip from her coffee tumbler, she looks to get herself hyped up enough to continue staying awake through the night. When you're on the clock and knee deep in some man's guts, it's easy to live off the adrenaline. Now on a roof in the middle of the night? It's easy to fall asleep. ".. Hello.. mystery guest.." She trails off. 

:'''{{#var:1787|June (1787)}} has posed:'''     "Well damn," June says as she can hear herself think for the first time since takeoff. "Why don't you just have that on all the time?" she asks. "Just make sure you actually dodge the buildings and we're cool," she comments as they make the approach. 

:'''{{#var:817|Lady Blackhawk (817)}} has posed:'''     Zinda chuckles into the intercom. "A lady don't show everythin' she's got on th' first date, sugah." she quips back. "Ah hope y'all brought enough bubblegum for th' rest of the class." And the chopper does indeed fly below rooftop level, the flat black fuselage and absence of even running lights making it all but invisible.     While Sandy waits on the roof, she first feels the breeze picking up. Okay, so it's becoming downright windy. Then the blacked-out UH-60 rises up to the roof level, rotors dampened but definitely moving a lot of air. A light touch on the controls, then the bird settles on the helipad. "Open up an' invite our guest inside, June." 

:'''{{#var:9635|Sandra Billings (9635)}} has posed:''' At the sound of the noise, followed by the rush of wind that whips through her hair, Sandy glances up from her phone and her round of expert Candy Crush gameplay. She stares at the heliocopter for a long moment, then rubs a hand along her face a few times as if to make sure she didn't nod off. Peeking into the windows, she squints her eyes. "Zinda, is that you? You couldn't have just called me a taxi?" She probably would have been less shocked if it 'was' Superman showing up for a bandaid. Raking her fingers through her hair a few times to try and untangle it, she waits for the doors to open. 

:'''{{#var:1787|June (1787)}} has posed:'''     "Nope, I'm a selfish bitch," June answers the bubblegum question. She undoes the buckle, and gets up from her seat, heading to the door and pulling it open. She's not the standard military type by any stretch, her half-shaved head with striped blonde and red streaks of hair flying around. Piercings in her nose and enough earrings to open her own shop, she is decidedly a fringe personality before she even opens her mouth. She's dressed in a shredded black Offspring T-shirt and shredded black jeans.     "Hi. Hear you need a ride." 

:'''{{#var:817|Lady Blackhawk (817)}} has posed:'''     An external speaker squawks just then, surprisingly clear over the muted sounds of the rotors and all that wind. <Hey, sugah! We were jus' headin' out do to a little shopping, and thought y'all might wanna join us. Clock's tickin'... that sale won't last forever.> Yep, that's definitely Zinda. The wheels touch down on the helipad, but she's keeping the full weight from settling.     And all the while, Zinda monitors air traffic on multiple channels at once. Nope, they officially still don't exist yet. Over the intercom, Zinda adds for June's benefit. "Get her settled an' strapped in quick, honey. We sorta ain't s'posed to be here..." 

:'''{{#var:9635|Sandra Billings (9635)}} has posed:''' Shopping? On a Black Ops Copter? Sandy pauses for a moment, drains the rest of her coffee in one gulp, then steps forward. The copter may give a 'bit' of a wiggle as she steps into it as her center of gravity shifts to compensate before she slides into a chair and straps in. She gives June a quick smile as her eyes roam along her appearance. "Hello! I'm Sandy. Zinda, is this the type of shopping trip that ends up on the news and then I get fired in the morning for it?" She sends off another text to Hank. << Hi baby. Being kidnapped by my girlfriends in a copter. I may need bail money. Love you. >> 

:'''{{#var:1787|June (1787)}} has posed:'''     June heads back to her seat. She doesn't smile back, but it isn't a directed 'I'm not smiling' type of attitude. "Well, if I do my part right, then nobody knows it happened," she says. "Got a lead on a dickhead, Tryin' to get in and get his dirt. This guy won't want any news reports either."     June's appearance makes her questionably young looking, though she carries herself like someone who wouldn't think twice about calling the Hulk a sissy.     "I'm June, by the way. I do the breaking and entering shit." 

:'''{{#var:817|Lady Blackhawk (817)}} has posed:'''     Zinda feels the chopper settle with the additional weight, and rights it automatically. Hearing the seat belts click and the door slide closed again, she doesn't wait. The big bird eases to one side off of the roof, then suddenly dives to fly somewhere above the power lines but below the rooftops.     "Good evenin', and thank you for flyin' Blackhawk Air. Please ensure your seat backs and tray tables are in the upright an' locked position. Once we get clear of th' city I'll take us up a bit, but might wanna hold on for a few minutes." 

:'''{{#var:9635|Sandra Billings (9635)}} has posed:''' "Oh. So .. this is like a mission?" Sandy says as she looks down at her powerder blue scrubs, then back over to the others. "Okay, so .. is this the type of mission that will give me PTSD later or .. something?" She rubs at her eyes for a moment with a fist, then pats her pockets down to pull out some energy drink gum to pop a few sticks in her mouth to chew on. "I'm takeing your copter doesn't do drive-thrus, huh?" "So, Zinda.. June .. what kinda trouble are we getting into? I take it Batgirl isn't joining us?" She asks as she leans back into the chair, peeking out the window. "I've never been in a copter before. This is .. uh .. not normal life for me." 

:'''{{#var:1787|June (1787)}} has posed:'''     "Yeah, pretty badass, huh?" June says, now cracking a smile of her own. "Zinda's job is the shit. So, there's this guy, Carl Rambo..." she pulls a file from the black bag at her feet, and looks it over. "Shit his name is hard. Rambo...scheuen...scheffer? Shifer? Fuck it, Carl Rambo. He has a bunch of local law in his court cuz he's got shit on them, probably pervert stuff. So he's at the top of his own little mountain, running some drug operations, never gettin' his hands dirty. Lives like everything is good. Batgirl found some bits on her internets-" she waggles her fingers like it's a magic spell, "-but nothin that we can really stick him on. He does though have like a little army that protects him at this pretty farm of his." She hands a satellite picture of a farm complex. 

:'''{{#var:817|Lady Blackhawk (817)}} has posed:'''     True to her word, once they are clear of the city proper, the chopper climbs a little and levels off. Zinda listens through the intercom, and occasionally speaks as well. But mostly she's content to let June do the explaining. "That's right, ladies. June, here is makin' her entrance all stealthy-like. That's her thing. Ah'm just the taxi driver..." Pause. "An' the cavalry, if it's needed. If she gets stuck, Ah'm to respond with 'extreme prejudice', as they call it."     "An' as for your part in this little story? Yer' th' backup, Sandy. All goes well, an' June sneaks back without a fuss. If not, then Ah'll get the chopper close, an' you make sure she gets in. This bird is... how do they say... 'tolerant of small arms fire', but that don't mean Ah'm all excited about gettin' shot at." 

:'''{{#var:9635|Sandra Billings (9635)}} has posed:''' "You want me to be the backup?" There's a laugh from Sandy. "I've taken three women's self defense classes and I'm a trauma nurse. I really hope that you don't expect me to hold a machine gun and go full Terminator in there. I try and save lives, not so much as take them. So, I really hope you're as sneaky as a ninja." She says, that one to June. She sighs, tapping away on her phone again as she blows some mousey brown hair away from her face. << Hi Blueberry. So, this girl's night out may involve a nasty drug dealer and gang members. I may be late for our scones breakfast! I'll let you know how it goes later. Love you muffin! >> She hums to herself as she thumbs the glass. 

:'''{{#var:1787|June (1787)}} has posed:'''     "I mean, that's exactly what I am," she says to Sandy. Once they are higher in the air, she unbuckles her belt, and stands up. She doesn't ask if Sandy minds, hey, she's a nurse, right? But she strips her shirt off right there, tossing it on the floor, and pulling a sundress out of the bag. Very ninja. It's even yellow with a flowery print. The removal of her shirt, though, exposes that she has several tattoos on her upper body. One that is a dragon snaking around her midsection, and the other is something that the people of NYC have become familiar with in the last year. It's the emblem of the Foot Clan, right on her left shoulder. She soon pulls the dress over her top, and shimmies the pants off, tossing them also in a heap. 

:'''{{#var:817|Lady Blackhawk (817)}} has posed:'''     "Alright, ladies, fifteen minutes to our drop zone." Zinda keeps the rotors in whisper mode, churning about 3 points West of North. "June, Ah'll set down just out of earshot of the farm an' keep the motor runnin'. Mah comm is on, so you sing out if y'all need any help. Ah got you on GPS, so we'll know where you are if Ah need to start shootin'." Reaching up, Zinda flips another switch and the interior lights change to red. 

:'''{{#var:9635|Sandra Billings (9635)}} has posed:''' "You're a ninja in .. a picnic dress?" Sandy asks as her brows raise upwards as her eyes roam along the various markings and ink. She has seen that foot symbol before somewhere. Where though? On a patient a few years back who came in close to death and various broken bones? The details are so fuzzy. She reaches up to rub at her eyes with a few knuckles. "Well, good luck, June! I have some mace in my purse if you want to bring it along." She says with a noise of amusement in her throat, trying to sound encouraging. "I'm sure you'll... get 'em.." She swings her fist upwards across her chest. Right-O. 

:'''{{#var:1787|June (1787)}} has posed:'''     June smirks, "Well, if I ran around in black pajamas, everyone would know I'm a ninja, right?" She digs in her bag again, and pulls out some makeup. She dabs it over the footprint tattoo, and tosses it back in the bag before grabbing a bottle of red fluid. She squirts it into her hair, mixing it in so that the blonde streaks disappear. "Ninjas use whatever they got to get the job done. Most guys are suckers for bein' big heros, even the scum bags, because they hope it will get them laid." She tosses the bottle in the bag, then grabs some sanitary wipes out to clean her hands. "I just walk in the front door, they see me as some poor girl lost and afraid and shit, they think they are gettin' some, let me in, and I pretty much get all the evidence we need."     She shrugs, "Well, at least in theory. This is probably where we cut to the part where I'm running the fuck for my life as they shoot at me." 

:'''{{#var:817|Lady Blackhawk (817)}} has posed:''' There's a soft chuckle over the intercom at the 'black pajamas' comment, no doubt coming from the cockpit. "Yeah, well that's the part when you call in th' cavalry, sugah." Zinda offers. "Ah got just about everythin' you could want on this bird, right up to turnin' your target into a big, smokin' crater. It's a nice approach y'all got, though." 

:'''{{#var:9635|Sandra Billings (9635)}} has posed:''' ".. You guys know I'm bulletproof and crazy strong right? Why don't we both go. I can be the older sister with the broken down car and my little sister." Sandy jerks her thumb towards June. "Has to really pee and I need to call a tow truck and my phone is dead because I use T-Mobile and we all know their service is trash. That way they have to split their attention. June can go to the bathroom, which gives her an excuse to sneak about, and they can focus on me." Her broad shoulders lift upwards, rubbing the back of her neck. "And I am still wearing my scrubs. So.. I reek of desperation of getting to work on time. That way, we don't need to send me in late, or use machine guns." 

:'''{{#var:1787|June (1787)}} has posed:'''     June pauses, she looks at the scrubs, "Actually, that's not a bad idea," she admits. "Okay, let's do this, and hopefully we can get in and out and no craters necessary." She picks up a handpurse that is also in the black bag of many things, and hops off the Blackhawk. "Okay, so I got this," she says. "It's full of not girly shit. Green is a poison gas, black is smoke," she holds up each of the small pellets between her fingers. "So you know which one I'm throwin'." She puts them back in, and pulls out a small kunai. "Oh, and a few sharp objects." The sundress whips violently around her from the helicopter as she hits the ground. 

:'''{{#var:817|Lady Blackhawk (817)}} has posed:''' Another soft chuckle from the cockpit. "We ain't even landed an' we're already improvisin'. Ah LOVE this job!" she replies. The rotors are whisper-quiet as the big bird sets down, the wind outside whipping around as the door is opened. "You gals be careful, now! An' Ah'll be close iffin' y'all need me." Once the passengers have disembarked, the chopper lifts off and hovers just above treetop level, pointed towards the target building. 

:'''{{#var:9635|Sandra Billings (9635)}} has posed:''' As she hops off the copter, Sandy takes in a deep breath as she feels her hair whip about in the rush from the blades above. Once she lifts up and takes off, she looks over towards June and nods her head. "Lead the way, ninja girl. I'm going by the name of Becky by the way." She says as she plucks her 'Sandy' nametag off, tossing it into a bush. "I can't be killed via impact, but I can definitely drown, be suffocated, or poisoned. So .. geezus.. this is so .. uh.. real now. Just give me a head's up before you do any of that." 

:'''{{#var:1787|June (1787)}} has posed:'''     "You come up with that yourself?" June asks over the raising helicopter's blades, grass and leaves shooting around as Rita takes off. "That's actually a really good fake name. Always use fake names with as few letters in common with your real name as possible. I was gonna gow ith Cara, but Becky and Meera sound like sister names more," she says, as if she just came up with it of the cuff. "Okay, so we get in," she says, walking in the direction of the complex. "I go to the shitter to recon, and you just give them your sob story about havin' to go to work. "You okay if they like, try to bend you over or anything? Cuz..." she winces. "I mean, it's possible. And...are you really bulletproof? Cuz you said the whole PTSD thing, and I figure those are two things that might give it to ya if you aren't ready." 

:'''{{#var:817|Lady Blackhawk (817)}} has posed:''' Zinda overhears Sandy's explanation to June and files it away for later. She remembered Sandy mentioning falling on a grenade and apparently that was a literal thing. The helicopter holds position as a dark blur against the stars, rotor wash rustling the upper branches of the trees. Several things go through her mind as June lays out possibilities, one of which was giving Sandy a gun. Then again that would blow the whole cover. <Y'all jus' lemme know when you're ready to run for it.> she offers into their earpieces. 

:'''{{#var:9635|Sandra Billings (9635)}} has posed:''' "If they try and bend me over, I will put a few dents in their skulls. I went through eight years of college, trust me, I've had my share of idiots try and grab me. It's not like I'd even feel it anyways. Drawback to my powers. Made sex life in college non-existant. What'd be the point if I can't actually enjoy it?" Sandy says with a frown on her face, pressing her lips together in a tight line. "But woe to them if they even so much as try and do something stupid like that. I'm being serious. Zinda may not need the machine guns." "And I was mostly joking about the PTSD. I look death in the eyes every night at the ER. In my area, crime is high and success rate is not very good. At some point you just gotta detach and do your job and save the tears for your coffee and blueberry muffin in the morning when you get off." 

:'''{{#var:1787|June (1787)}} has posed:'''     June pauses, sizes Sandra for a moment, and shrugs, "Okay, let's do this then." It's several hundred yards, but of course they reach the entrance to the farm complex. A man in a polo and jeans spots them approaching, and intercepts them. He has a pistol on his hip, and looks them over. "Hi ladies, you a little lost tonight?" he asks.     "YES. We are like, totally screwed, my sister Becky has to get to work, she came to get me from this super crappy date, and then her car broke down and now we're stuck like, literally in the middle of nowhere." 

:'''{{#var:9635|Sandra Billings (9635)}} has posed:''' As she walks up to them, Sandy puts on a frazzled look on her face as she rubs a hang along her eyes. "Yeah, is it okay if we call a tow truck? My phone died and I didn't charge it." She says with a loud yawn. "I just got off a sixteen hour shift a few hours ago before I had to pick her up." She says with obvious frustration in her voice. "And if I can't get this fixed before my shift starts I'm going to be in trouble. Got any coffee? I could use a coffee." She sounds like an overworked nurse, that's for sure. The kind that survives on coffee and adrenaline. "Oh. Hi. I'm Becky. Like she said." She says with another yawn, covering her mouth as she arches her back a bit. 

:'''{{#var:1787|June (1787)}} has posed:'''     "So..." the man says, "You are starting a shift or getting off a shift?" he asks. "You really shouldn't be out in the middle of the night like this. But I get it. Hang on."     He pulls out a phone, and punches a few numbers to unlock it. "Here ya go," he says, handing the phone over. "Can't let you go past here, y'know, though, this is a private property. The owner doesn't like people comin' on site." He hands the phone to 'Becky' casually, it doesn't sound like he suspects anything, at least. 

:'''{{#var:9635|Sandra Billings (9635)}} has posed:''' Yawning again, Sandy reaches out to take the phone from him. "When you work sixteen hour shifts, it's literally coming and going at the same time. I have enough time to get home, roll out of my clothes into the shower where I sleep for thirty minutes in there, roll back out into my clothes, eat maybe a bowl of ramen, then get get back in the car and drive through traffic back to work because they will, and always will, call you for additional overtime because everyone in the city is dumb." She goes on a ramble as she pokes at the buttons on the phone. "Uh, do you have the number for Triple A?" She says with a sigh. "I guess I can .. Google it.. I'm not gonna get a porn site if I launch your browser am I? Not that I care. I've taken some weird things out of people before." She gives a glance over towards June for a moment, then back to the man. "What's your name, so I can properly thank you." 

:'''{{#var:1787|June (1787)}} has posed:'''     "Michael," the man answers. "Look, I don't got numbers for anybody. Do you have anyone who can just come get you or something?" he asks. He looks mildly uncomfortable with the presence of these two strange women. June licks her lips as Sandy talks to the man. She looks back at the farm house, and then wanders behind him, toward the house. "Can I like, use the little girls' room? I mean, even if we have someone coming, I'm in a dress, and... y'know?" she asks, giving her best innocent look.     Michael swaps his attention. "Um." He looks like he's not sure how to respond.     "I'll only be like 2 minutes, I promise. Thanks so much!" she doesn't wait for a real answer, but hoofs it toward the farmhouse, and opens the screen door. "Hello?" She's greeted by someone who seems uninterested in her entry.     "Who're you?" a dark skinned man asks.     "I just gotta pee real quick, my sister's borrowin' Michael's phone. He said I could go use the little girl's room." The second man looks a little puzzled, uncertain regarding what's happening. 

:'''{{#var:9635|Sandra Billings (9635)}} has posed:''' "Thanks, Michael. I mean, I guess I could just call my broher and have him come over, but it's the middle of the night and that means I'd owe him and he's a real asshole." Sandy says with a loud sigh as she wrinkles up her nose a bit. "He's one of those hold it over your head types if you know what I mean? He'll be passive aggressive, then he'll blame me and say it's my fault my engine died even though I just got it serviced three weeks ago. Knowing those guys they probably fucked my car up so I'd have to go back and give them more money." As she pokes at the phone a bit more, she gives Michael a bright smile, then launches the browser. Her eyes glances down at the screen, then back up to him with her brows raised. ".. Nice. Not my style, but, you know.. " She taps away until she can launch Triple A, then searches for a local one. "Okay! Be quick." She says to 'Meera' as she heads off to use the bathroom. "Sorry, she's been holding that for the past thirty minutes." 

:'''{{#var:1787|June (1787)}} has posed:'''     "Michael, you tell her she could go in?" the second man asks.     "What?" Michael asks, then is caught by Sandy's 'nice' comment. "What?" he glances back to the phone, his attention divided fiercely. June pushes past the large guardian. "Thanks so much! she calls out, and rushes into the farmhouse. "Where is it?"     "Hey wait," the second guard says, "You can't just- it's not that way, under the stairs." He disappears inside after her. 

:'''{{#var:9635|Sandra Billings (9635)}} has posed:''' "Who's that? Your brother?" Sandy asks as she scrolls through his phone, fumbling with the website in search of a local phone number. Turning her attention to Michael, she gives him a bright smile, then tips a wink. "You know what." She says, then lifts the phone up to her ear after dialing a number. "Yeah, Hi.. My name is Becky Johnson. I have a broken Ford F150 on.. um... ah .. sheesh.. what was that road called again.." She looks up at Michael, hoping for some help. "What is that road called about two miles down, um.. intersects with this one.. and then about.. two blocks.. away from that? Was it .. Fredericks.. or .. something? It started with an F. Oh, for fuck sake." She sighs out loudly, canting her glance towards the farmhouse briefly. 

:'''{{#var:1787|June (1787)}} has posed:'''     "The road?" Michael echoes. "Um... I don't know. Highway 157 is that way."     Meanwhile inside June finds the bathroom, of course, there's a guy right outside it. Well, at least she actually did have to go to the bathroom. After doing her business she exits. the man escorts her back to the door, and she suddenly trips, shoving her foot backward to knock her chaperone down as well. On top of her. "Oh, sorry!" she pleads forgiveness as the man quickly tries to roll off her for awkwardness. Which of course is the moment she uses to roll back herself on top of him, putting him in a sleeper hold. In a moment he's out, and she's free to roam the house. Room after room she searches, until she finds the office. Her phone comes out of the bag, and she snaps a few pictures of the incriminating documents, and then starts down the stairs again, rushing out the door. "Phew, I feel better, Becky how's the tow coming?" she asks. 

:'''{{#var:9635|Sandra Billings (9635)}} has posed:''' "Uh.. yeah. Highway 157. I remember seeing a mile marker .. um.. thirteen? Yeah, thirteen! Okay. Thank you soooo much! What's your name again? Steven. Steven, you sound like a real sweetheart." After hanging up, Sandy turns and hands the phone back to Michael as she watches June head out of the house. "Hey, I really appreciate this, you letting her use the bathroom and letting me call Triple A. We're gonna get going and walk back to the car. They said it'd be an hour or so anyways so we have plenty of time." She lifts her hand to June. "All good, Meera." She gives a quick stretch of her body, cracking a few joints in her plump frame. "Well, take care and enjoy the rest of your night." She says as she starts off once June reaches her side. 

:'''{{#var:817|Lady Blackhawk (817)}} has posed:''' At the edge of 'normal' visual range the Blackhawk helicopter hovers quietly. Zinda watches the house through infrared optics and listens to the various conversations on the headset. "Y'all oughta work in television." she offers. "An' no, don't say nothin' back. Jus' stay in character an' get the hell outta there." 

:'''{{#var:1787|June (1787)}} has posed:'''     June grins at Sandy as she reaches her to indicate she got what she needed. Piece of-     Just as the phone is handed back, it crackles with a radio line. "-Farmhand 2 to all Farmhand team. Farmhand 4 is down. Secure the site immediately!-"     Michael looks at his phone in a surprised manner, then starts to reach for his pistol. June snapes a kick out at his holster, breaking the clip off and sending the holstered gun sprawling. "Shit. Was a boring date anyway," she comments. "Let's go!" 

:'''{{#var:9635|Sandra Billings (9635)}} has posed:''' There is a visible wince from Sandy at the crackle from the radio. Before she can go back into actress mode, June is already swinging out her foot and kicking a gun. She steps forward, throwing out a fist to slap it in the poor man's head, most likely sending him several feet back. She at least pulled the punch enough so not to crack his skull open, or kill the man, but he most likely will be out. "We should get his radio so we know where they're coming and going as we get out of here." She watches TV at least. A lot of Die Hard. 

:'''{{#var:817|Lady Blackhawk (817)}} has posed:''' Lady Blackhawk listens in her headset, the black chopper hovering quietly just above the treetops. "Come back to mama, Team." she offers calmly, watching the infrared signatures near the house. Zinda thumbs a toggle, switching to the 20mm Vulcan cannon loaded with beanbag rounds. "Guns are hot. Jus' a lil' closer, an' I'll make these fellas wish they were on Omaha Beach." 

:'''{{#var:1787|June (1787)}} has posed:'''     June blinks as Sandy lays out the man in a single punch. "Damn girl, that's a hell of a jab. She grabs the phone/radio and tosses it to Sandy. "You can keep up with it, then," she offers, and picks up the gun holster. She pulls it free, checks the mag, and crack hiss of a bullet zings by, another guard is on the front step. June cracks off a couple shots that go wide, but cause the man to duck a little.     "-All Farmhands, intruders at front gate!-" comes the response on the radio. June turns and starts running in the direction of where she knows the whirlybird rescue is. 

:'''{{#var:9635|Sandra Billings (9635)}} has posed:''' Grabbing the radio, Sandy attaches it to her jeans beneath her scrub. Ducking instinctively at the bullet that wizzes by, she lets out a heavy breath. "I may be bulletproof, but they still hurt when they hit me." She calls over to June, pushing her forward so that she can take up the rear and cover her. Following after her, she dials the volume on the radio a bit so not to give them away as she hustles. She isn't fast. She's a big girl and thus has a lumber about her. She huffs and wheezes. "Ninjas.. are .. too .. fast..." She puffs out, trying to keep her head down. 

:'''{{#var:817|Lady Blackhawk (817)}} has posed:''' Zinda watches everything through the optics, the black chopper lifting a little higher. "Lemme see if Ah ken buy y'all a little more time." she offers. Angling the nose down, she sights in on the house and squeezes off a few bursts. Beanbags or not, 20 millimeter projectiles are still 20 millimeter projectiles. With the chopper in whisper mode and no tracer rounds in the guns, the only thing the Farmhands hear is a couple of short, low buzzing sounds followed by exploding windows along the front of the house... behind them. 

:'''{{#var:1787|June (1787)}} has posed:'''     "-Farmhand 3 is down! We have multiple engagements!-" comes the radio as the beanbags start pounding the house. Suddenly there is the snap of several lights flooding the property, June and Sandra casting long shadows as they head for the trees. June squints up, knowing the blackhawk is there somewhere, but can't see it herself. A three round burst comes from the house, in the direction of the helicopter, only along the ground. Clearly, he doesn't know where it's coming from. Two more men rush toward the house from a barn about a 100 yards off, pistols drawn.     "Sandy, we gotta get you a cardio workout," she critiques casually as she tucks into a divet between two trees. "Where is she? I can't see through the light glare." 

:'''{{#var:9635|Sandra Billings (9635)}} has posed:''' "Good luck with that." Sandy grunts as she follows after as best she can go. "Mutant power kinda prevents me from being a Barbie doll. It's how I'm built. Like a Ford truck." Once she makes her way into the trees, she winces at the sounds of more gunshots. "I don't know, I can't see a damn thing in here, but at least they're kinda peeling back to the house now so she's lighting them up." 

:'''{{#var:817|Lady Blackhawk (817)}} has posed:''' Lady Blackhawk follows the retreat through infrared optics, watching the agents and pursuers alike. "Jus' keep right on a'runnin, ladies. Straight on. Ah'll set down an' hit the lights when y'all get close." Zinda's voice squawks in their earpieces. Bzzzt! Bzzzt! Bzzzzzzzzzzt! She squeezes a couple more bursts at the house, then she walks a zig-zag line back from the house through the brush to spill a couple of the pursuers as well. "Yee-HAW! Take that, ya' jackals!" 

:'''{{#var:1787|June (1787)}} has posed:'''     June smirks at Sandy's remark. Of course she's the reverse problem, she is a bit too skinny for the barbie look. "There," she points, my mutant power says she's right there." Of course, she can't see her still, she's going off the angle that one of the guards takes a beanbag to the face. She pulls out the purse, and a small smoke pellet. "Ready? On three." She throws the pellet out and several yards away, striking it against a tree in the opposite direction. A plume of gray smoke draws the attention, and a couple guards start shooting in that direction.     "Three." She gets up and starts sprinting to where she thinks the Blackhawk is. 

:'''{{#var:9635|Sandra Billings (9635)}} has posed:''' "Three!" Sandy wheezes out as she follows after her. By now, she can taste copper in her throat. She really needs a personal trainer, or a Danger Room. There is no way she'll ever be scaling buildings and using bat-grappling hooks to wiz about the city. "Hey Z, I think we're close!" She says outloud. Her breathing sounds pained as she clutches at her side. ".. I can take a grenade to the gut but I can't run a half mile. Oh my God, Sandy." 

:'''{{#var:817|Lady Blackhawk (817)}} has posed:''' Lady Blackhawk can see everything, with her optics as well as the elevation. "Alright, ladies, gonna set 'er down now." Pushing a button, the side door slides open and the helicopter angles sideways to let June and Sandy run straight in. Wheels touch the ground, but the big bird keeps the rotors turning; resting only lightly on the wheels. There's a flicker of the dim, green lighting inside for the girls to run towards as well. Just in case the wind wasn't enough of a clue. 

:'''{{#var:1787|June (1787)}} has posed:'''     June takes the point, going first and making a bee line for the helicopter. A bullet strikes the windshield, not penetrating, but giving a crack on the co-pilot's side. The second of the burst can be heard ricocheting as it glances the metal body, and the third, the third hits June in the forearm. It's just a graze, but it's still an assault rifle, so the blood slings dramatically out to the side as she dives and rolls into the door. No time to worry about that now, though, she moves back to the door, passing the gun to her right hand taking some potshots to keep fire off Sandy. Some days it just doesn't pay to be a south paw, and that might be some of the worst shooting that's ever been scene as the bullet hits the ground, hits the opposite side of the house as the target, hits thin air. 

:'''{{#var:817|Lady Blackhawk (817)}} has posed:''' "Hold on, gals!" Zinda calls out loudly enough to be overhead inside the chopper, now. The Blackbird may be 'resistant to small arms fire', but that doesn't mean she likes being shot at. June tumbles in and then the chopper's weight shifts as Sandy falls forward inside as well. Zinda stabs the 'Door Close' button as the wheels leave the turf, immediately turning the bird around to shield the closing door from pursuers. There are a few more 'ting-ting-ting' sounds as bullets ricochet off of the hull, followed by a sudden LURCH as the bird goes quickly vertical. Inside, things become a lot quieter as the door seals and Zinda accelerates quickly, the dark chopper vanishing into the night. "Ah'd love to dust them fellas up a bit more, or maybe raze the place to th' ground. But that ain't the mission. Ya'll okay back there?" 

:'''{{#var:1787|June (1787)}} has posed:'''     Adrenaline is a funny thing. June nods, "Yeah, not a scratch," she declares, hand gripping one of the handholds on the ceiling as the blackhawk lifts to the air. It seems she hasn't notices the blood running down her left arm yet, and takes a deep breath of relief, now out of danger. Sure she's been under fire before, and this is far from the closest brush with death that she's had. Still, getting shot at isn't fun for anyone. 

:'''{{#var:9635|Sandra Billings (9635)}} has posed:''' Panting heavily, Sandy is sprawled out on the floor, staring up at the ceiling with her eyes wide. "Holy shit. I can't believe I just did that." She takes a few moments to breathe and try her best to calm down. As her eyes roam over towards June, a look of concern fills her eyes at the sight of the blood. "You're bleeding. Did you get shot?" She asks as she rises up and scoots over towards her. "Take your shirt off. Let me take a look at you." With that, she's reaching for the medical kit on board to patch up her commrade and teammate. 

:'''{{#var:817|Lady Blackhawk (817)}} has posed:''' Zinda relaxes as the house and commotion disappear rapidly behind them. All the same, she knows how many good pilots bought it on the way back from missions because they let their guard down. She keeps the Blackhawk low and the exterior lights off. "Lemme know if Ah need to set down at a hospital, Sandy. Otherwise, looks like we're golden." There's a pause as she switches channels on the mic. "Oracle, this is Lady Blackhawk reportin' in. Mission Accomplished." 
}}

12213/Please Fasten Your Seatbelts

2020-09-21T17:21:08Z

GodsKnite: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2020/09/21 |Location=Archie Goodwin International Airport, Gotham |Synopsis=Zinda meets June to fly her out to the latest infiltration mission. |Ca..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2020/09/21
|Location=Archie Goodwin International Airport, Gotham
|Synopsis=Zinda meets June to fly her out to the latest infiltration mission.
|Cast of Characters=1787,817
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:1787|June (1787)}} has posed:'''     22:00. That was the time they were supposed to depart. June wasn't there and it's now 3 minutes past departure time when the high pitched whir of an old motorcross bike can be heard, not seen, peeling across the tarmac. The sound is soon dwarfed by a passenger jet screaming down the runway as it makes its landing in the night.     As the plane taxis to the left, the bike with no lights on peels off to the right toward the blackhawk's landing place, the rider highlighted occasionally as she passes in front of a runway light, blone and red striped hair bursting behind her like fire. The sound returns as the plane becomes distant, and the little bike comes crackling to the stop as the engine is disengaged. The young woman has a black backpack strapped to her back, but the piercings and shredded Offspring T-shirt says she's more ready for a metal concert than a covert op. 

:'''{{#var:817|Lady Blackhawk (817)}} has posed:'''     The plane is a PC-24, an executive jet that is light and fast and known for having an excellent range. Other than the numbers on the fuselage, the only markings on the plane are the vintage Blackhawk logo. Zinda didn't see the bike, of course, at least not until she taxis the plane around and towards one of the civilian hangars on the edge of the tarmac.     The engines wind down slowly and the door pops open, light flooding the area as a blonde wearing a black military flight suit and leather jacket descends. Zinda squints, looking around and following the sound of the bike shutting off. "Who's there?" she calls, in an accent thick from the Antebellum South. 

:'''{{#var:1787|June (1787)}} has posed:'''     June is just swinging her leg over and off the bike when she is illuminated, leaving the bike unceremoniously not in a parking spot. "You Blackhawk?" she asks, her jaw smacking on some gum. She seems to assume the positive, walking without discretion toward the plane. She stops at the base as Zinda descends, casually hooking her thumbs in the shoulderstraps of the backpack, which also snaps around her hip. 

:'''{{#var:817|Lady Blackhawk (817)}} has posed:'''     The blonde tips her pilot's cap, which also has the Blackhawk logo, and she flashes a grin that's worthy of a magazine cover. "Well y'all know the right words, at least." she offers, striding towards the younger woman and away from the plane. As Zinda moves, June would likely notice a two-gun holster rig under the open jacket as well. "C'mon, sugah. Call me Zinda, if ya' want." Jerking a thumb towards the hangar, she tilts her head and offers. "Our ride for tonight is this-a-way." And with that she changes course. 

:'''{{#var:1787|June (1787)}} has posed:'''     "Aight, I'm June," comes the response. She follows suit, her eyes constantly checking about her as someone who might expect to be attacked at any moment. She doesn't look afraid, just intentional about keeping her surroundings in mind. She continues to smack her gum, but doesn't instigate any smalltalk while en route to the prepared aircraft. 

:'''{{#var:817|Lady Blackhawk (817)}} has posed:'''     Over to the hangar they go, where Zinda opens a locked side door and leads June inside. The overhead lights are on, but tinted red for night ops. Sitting close to the door is a dull-black helicopter, military-grade Blackhawk class for those who know, with neither insignia nor letters. Zinda waves to a man standing beside the bird and he responds almost casually. "Pre-flight's all set, Miss Zinda. She's ready when you are."     Most pilots do their own pre-flight check, so it says a lot that Zinda trusts this man. "Thanks, Jack. I'll warm up the engines while you wheel her out." Gesturing towards the wide-open door, she offers to June. "Go ahead and get comfy, honey. An' you'll wanna strap in." 

:'''{{#var:1787|June (1787)}} has posed:'''     June looks up at the rotors on the helicopter. "Like, never been on somethin' like this but once," she admits. "Fucker's a lot bigger than I thought." She unbuckles her bag and tossed it onto the floor of the blackhawk before hopping up onto it, giving a glance at Jack as if sizing him up in case of a fight. She glances around, having little clue regarding most of the interior's purpose. She picks up the bag, and moves to the seating behind the cockpit. "Shit, that's a lot of stuff, You really know what all that means?" she asks, looking at the countless dials and switches. 

:'''{{#var:817|Lady Blackhawk (817)}} has posed:'''     The Blackhawk helicopter is big, with internal seating for 10 more people besides June. She would also notice the large guns slung under the fuselage. The seats are simple benches, although comfortably padded. And all in black on black on black. Zinda straps into the cockpit and starts flipping switches, going through her cockpit preflight checklist while the overhead door slowly rises.     "Oh yeah, sugah. Don't mind all the dials an' such, the basics ain't changed much in decades." The engines slowly whine to life as Jack pushes the big bird out of the hangar with one of the tractors. A voice sounds in the cockpit. <Okay, Miss Zinda, you're clear. Godspeed.>     The big rotor begins to turn, and Zinda calls back to June. "Ah hope y'all are set to do YOUR part, sugah. I can get'cha there an' provide some close support if ya' need it. But if y'all are callin' me for help, then this train has probably gone way off the rails." 

:'''{{#var:1787|June (1787)}} has posed:'''     June drops the bag unceremoniously in front of her, and finds one of the seatbelts to buckle into. "I know my shit," she says. Though her attire makes her look like someone who hasn't done any prep at all. She unzips the bag, and pulls out a few images of the location. It looks like a farm complex in upstate New York. "This is what the place looks like," she yells out, handing the images to Zinda. "SHIT THAT'S LOUD!" she says, not aware of any more effective means of communication. 

:'''{{#var:817|Lady Blackhawk (817)}} has posed:'''     The rotor picks up speed and the whole bird rumbles with the acceleration. "Ah'll put 'er on whisper mode when we glide in to drop ya' off." she offers. The tail flaps flip up and down as Zinda tests the last few controls, wheeling the big bird around and onto the runway. "Gotham Tower, this is Blackhawk Zero-Seven-Niner, requesting clearance. Over."     "Show me once we're airborne, sugah. Ah got the map reference, but we ken' get more specific." Pause. <Blackhawk Zero-Seven-Niner, you are clear for immediate takeoff.>     "Okay, now, here we go." There's plenty of runway ahead for a smooth takeoff, but that's not what happens. Nope. Forget the runway. The chopper roars and Zinda pulls back on the stick, the big bird LURCHING suddenly vertically into the night sky. 

:'''{{#var:1787|June (1787)}} has posed:'''     June looks down at the satellite images. Yeah, guess Zinda has to do that whole take-off thing. She sits casually, trying to see out the windshield, the kid in her only partly repressed by the bad girl attitude. She's gonna ride in a helicopter! Then it takes off, and there's the sudden feeling of her guts flinging into her feet, and her eyes go wide. "Shit!" she cries out, free hand grabbing the seat next to her as they take off into the sky. 

:'''{{#var:817|Lady Blackhawk (817)}} has posed:'''     Once they're clear of the airport, which takes all of five seconds, the chopper tilts forward and accelerates. Zinda laughs from the cockpit, looking back in the mirror at her passenger as the big bird settles into level flight. "Still with me back there, sugah?" The ground moves away below... awfully fast... and the lights of the Eastern Seaboard fill the view out the window.     "Ah got standard ordnance port-side in case y'all got a can ya' need openin' an' non-lethals to starboard. But a 20 millimeter beanbag still hurts like th' dickens. ETA is... 20 minutes, if ya' need any prep." Pause. "We thank you for choosing Blackhawk Air whenever your travel plans call for air travel. Now kick back, relax, an' let us do th' rest. An don't leave your gum under th' seat." 
}}

12186/One good shot is all you need

2020-09-16T16:58:22Z

GodsKnite: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2020/09/16 |Location=SHIELDS Classified. Europe |Synopsis=The way of the archer, not the way of the father |Cast of Characters=137,9637 |pretty=yes..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2020/09/16
|Location=SHIELDS Classified. Europe
|Synopsis=The way of the archer, not the way of the father
|Cast of Characters=137,9637
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:137|Clint Barton (137)}} has posed:''' "Target acquired", comes the Archer's whisper over the comms. A silent sigh escapes the special agent's lips. *Again. Not again* He's been chasing the target for hours, in that cold and rainy night, somewhere in the boonies, somewhere in Northern Europe. It could have been anywhere else, it doesn't matter, it is always the same. Always. All that Clint knows is that the target must to be eliminated. *Eliminated*. Sigh. That could mean many things, right? Of course, what S.H.I.E.L.D.S. really means is, kill him. The hell with S.H.I.E.L.D.S. Fingers quickly select the perfect arrow for the job. One second, only one, and all will be over with. Painlessly, at least for the target. There's a lot a man can think about in a second. But right now, there's only one nagging question in Hawkeye's mind, the same question, again. Why not just have him arrested, tried and locked up for life instead? This could be as easy. Actually, way much easier, at least for the archer's peace of mind anyway. Finger twitches, arrow selected. Perfect aim, perfect shot. So easy. Do it and go home... whatever /home/ is today. 

:'''{{#var:9637|The Straw Man (9637)}} has posed:'''     "You, kiddo," the voice is familiar. It's Dad. "Looks like you could use a drink." He leans up against a nearby tree, a budweiser in his hand. He looks like he did years ago, back when Clint was young. "Letting go is easy, you know," he advises, possibly about a drink, possibly about releasing the arrow. He brings the can to his lips, and takes a sip. 

:'''{{#var:137|Clint Barton (137)}} has posed:''' Oh yeah, the voice is familiar, even if he didn't hear it in years, way too familiar still after all this time. "Whadafuck!?!" Distraction, BIG distraction. Shooting aborted. The comms crackle "Barton?"*. "Hold on, situation" comes the archer's reply. Yeah, way /situation/! Heartbeat racing, adrenaline rushing. Looking around, searching for who can be playing with his mind. There was no mind-playing mutant mentionned in the report. *Or did I miss the memo... again???* Eyes riveted on the man - it cannot be his dad, dead for so long - Hawkeye frowns and menacingly warns, "Dunno who the hell you are, don't care, you have 5 seconds to run. Cuz I'm in a good mood." All thought about the target are gone for now, fix one problem at the time and right now, there's a bloke playing mind tricks with the archer. 

:'''{{#var:9637|The Straw Man (9637)}} has posed:'''     "A very good mood, clearly," the image of his father says. "You wanted to shoot me all your life, and now you give me time to run." He pushes off the tree with his shoulders.     "You've done pretty well, grown up to be a high level..." he looks out at the distant target. "Assassin. A little hypocritical, isn't it?" 

:'''{{#var:137|Clint Barton (137)}} has posed:''' Wow, ok, whoever this person is, they know things about him that they /should/ not. There's something in the man's words, that clearly hits the target. *Don't let him get to you, Hawkster*. "Lemme tell ya", Clint replies, "Whoever you are, you've got it wrong. If your intel was so good, you'd know it couldn't work. Amateur." Yeah, who could know about his father anyway... Maybe Fury. Oh shit. Damn Fury. As he speaks, Clint instinctively turns his aim over at the man. "Time's up!" Deads do not come back to life. Well, right, they do sometimes, but Clint's dad was anything but a hero. So there is no way he would deserve any resurection of any kind, nor deserve anything to start with, period. 

:'''{{#var:9637|The Straw Man (9637)}} has posed:'''     There is no look of alarm on the man's face, just a hint of a smile. "Oh, my mistake," he says, as if conceding a point. Something about the demeanor makes it seem a taunt more than an admission. He doesn't move, though, just looking straight back into Clint's eyes, as if waiting for him to loose the volley without any fear. 

:'''{{#var:137|Clint Barton (137)}} has posed:''' Flash back. Major flashback, to the time of the accident. No one's supposed to die, just to go out for groceries. Unless you are a bloody drunk like Clint's dad, and manage not only to kill yourself - which was kind of a blessing - but the mother at the same time. There are things everyone wants to forget about, things that are best left in the past, although they define you on the long term. This fatal accident is something Clint Barton absolutly wants to forget about. And especially about the son of a bitch - his dad - who caused it. And now this /man/ pretends to be his dad. Ah, right. If he was, really, Hawkeye would have a ball just tearing him to shreds and kick him back to hell where he belongs. Lost in that line of thought, and maybe being tricked into the mind game, the only thing that comes to the archer's mind at the moment is... "Fuck you, jerk! I don't kill innocent people, like YOU did!" Oh yeah, he fell for it. Who knows, maybe he /wanted/ to fell for it. 

:'''{{#var:9637|The Straw Man (9637)}} has posed:'''     "Innocent people. No, of course not," the voice says. "Just bad people, right? Guilty people. People who /deserve/ it." He walks closer, not evading the tip of the arrow as he does, and takes another swig of the beer. He smells like alcohol. "Ever think about what makes that line? At what point does a person DESERVE to die? Is murder the line? Or rape? Maybe destabilizing a government. Maybe countless lives they've thrown in the gutter." He pauses. "Maybe because you just say so." 

:'''{{#var:137|Clint Barton (137)}} has posed:''' Damn good questions indeed, the same Hawkeye is asking himself, everytime. It's back to this, always: kill, or don't kill. The man is right tho, who decides? *Who are you, Barton, to decide?* The archer shakes his head, not much in disagreement with the man's words, but in a feable attempt to clear his mind. This is ridiculous. Off on a simple mission, now talking with the dead. And not /any/ dead, the only one he never wanted to see or speak to again. The only person, in his own life, that he really wanted, wilfully, to kill. The arrow still aimed at the approaching man, there's something else approaching the surface of the archer's counsciousness. Kill him, you get that one shot, do it. *Fuck, if I could...* But, no, you can't, Barton. So run, do something. "I'm done with you, don't you come any closer, final warning!" Clint warns. 

:'''{{#var:9637|The Straw Man (9637)}} has posed:'''     "I thought you already gave me the final warning, wasn't it five seconds? How long as it been?" he asks, a flip of his wrist up to look at his watch. "I'm sorry, I forgot to set the timer." He looks back up at the archer.     Clint's father steps closer, as if a dare to do something about it. He's only barely the length of the arrow away, it might not get to full speed before striking him, but probably enough to penetrate, still, the beer can right in front of his heart. 

:'''{{#var:137|Clint Barton (137)}} has posed:''' Oh, to kill him, that bloody drunk, that's all he deserves for what he did. For being a first-class jerk, uncarring father. For a moment, Clint allows his arm to aim directly at the man's heart. One shot is all it takes. At that moment, it's not a stanger facing him, nagging him, but his father. A man guilty of killing his mother, of letting him having to fight for his own life, no family but a weird brother you'd be better off without. No one, alone, by himself, to have to constantly prove himself to the others. Always. Yes, Clint's dad is guilty of all of this. He deserves to die... Clint /deserves/ the right to kill him. Then after a tense moment of indecision, the bow slowly lowers down, finger off the trigger. There's a long pause. A man can think about a lot of things in a second. Hawkeye lowers the bow, slowly turns around, and starts walking away from the man-dad. "It's not my place to kill anyone... not even you, the most guilty of all." As he walks away, he adds over his shoulders, "I am not like you. I'm not a killer." From a distance, the comms comes to life. "Lost target. Coming back." And no, not coming back. 
}}

12050/Graduation Day

2020-08-21T19:43:33Z

GodsKnite: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2020/08/21 |Location=Foot Operations, East Warehouse |Synopsis=Tyler is given his final test before becoming a full fledged Foot Clan Ninja. |Cast..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2020/08/21
|Location=Foot Operations, East Warehouse
|Synopsis=Tyler is given his final test before becoming a full fledged Foot Clan Ninja.
|Cast of Characters=1233,1792
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     The training has not been lax, it hasn't been casual. The Foot has demanded all of Tyler's time. Hours of training, conditioning. He has been given free time, but the schedule is always paramount. If it's time for training. If it's time for work, then it's done. There is no exception. Discipline.     But today, the training is complete. Today an event that has been seen before is happening again. The initiation of a new member of the Foot. The shinobi are gathered, and they sit crosslegged on the floor of the dojo, at attention, and Shredder stands on his platform in front of his throne, waiting for Tyler. 

:'''{{#var:1792|Tyler Grant (1792)}} has posed:''' At the appointed time for his arrival, Tyler is present. He'd been waiting nearby, focusing on what comes next. Meditating. Trying to keep himself as calm as possible. Still, the young man is full of excitement. When he steps onto the room's concrete floor he proceeds through the grouped ninjas towards his master. As he arrives he stands up straight and bends forward at the waist in a deep bow to Saki. Despite all of his focus his head still twitches, but he ignores it focus on what matters most at this time, the ceremony. "Master Shredder," he says clearly and as calmly as he can manage. "I am prepared." 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     The Shredder looks down and bows lesser to Tyler. "My son," he says, a certain weight of the word given. "You came to us from outside, looking for a home. Looking for a place you belong." He pulls a red bandana from his sash.     "You showed dedication. You have learned discipline. You have earned the right to be part of our family." 

:'''{{#var:1792|Tyler Grant (1792)}} has posed:''' "Thank you, Master," Tyler says, gulping deep in his throat to keep the emotions he's feeling now at bay to the best of his ability. Taking a deep breath, he looks closely at the bandana and a smile nearly creeps onto his face, but he manages to suppress it at the last moment. "I am incredibly happy to be worthy of this honor. I dedicate myself to the service of yourself and of my new family." 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     Shredder nods, holding the bandana in both hands, then looks at the collection. "He has dedicated himself and entered an unbreakable covenant. The word covenant means to cut. In ancient times, when two people would enter a covenant, they would cut an animal in two, and walk between the two halves. This was to say this was no mere agreement, but a formation of them as a person." He nods to the door on the far wall, and the Foot opens the door, bringing in a man who is tattoo'd and strong. He stands a good 6'5", and could probably make the Rock look small.     His hands are tied, and three Foot hold him to force him forward. "Occasionally, a daisuke gives such promise, that to become more is the natural order. And occasionally, a foe promises to recant their opposition and to join us. Today, both will be solved together." The man is led to the fighting ring. "Tyler, this man has killed our people, he has defied the Foot's control of the city." The man isn't completely foreign, his face has been seen around during training. He was an informant, but it was always suspected that he was a double agent, working against the Foot and for them. "Michael, you wish to be absolved, and to follow the path of the Foot. Only one of you will be granted a path forward. The other will die tonight before us, and a covenant will be cut." The ropes are cut, and Michael rubs his wrists. "Choose your weapons," he says, motioning to the rack. Michael quickly grabs a polearm off the rack, and faces Tyler, a hard grit on his face. 

:'''{{#var:1792|Tyler Grant (1792)}} has posed:''' When informed that he shall be fighting, to the death no less, for his position in the Foot and his life, Tyler's hint of a smile disappears. He twitches slightly, then bows to Master Shredder again, "I shall earn my place, Master." When choosing weapons Tyler goes straight for the hook swords, taking them down from the rack and turning his attention to Michael, not saying another word. The young warrior takes a deep, steadying breath as he studies his foe. Bouncing lightly on the balls of his feet Twitch prepares himself mentally for what will come next. Another twitch of his head, but it doesn't even seem like he noticed it, so intense is his concentration. Tyler is going to kill this man and he knows he can't hesitate. 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     Michael doesn't hesitate, and bursts forward, three hundred pounds of muscle, the polearm thrusting straight forward. He roars, solid on his feet, but he has a rather singular mindest in his fighting, clearly. He's going to just stab straight through Tyler. 

:'''{{#var:1792|Tyler Grant (1792)}} has posed:''' If there's one thing Tyler's good at it's getting out of the way of danger. Young Mr. Grant sidesteps the thrust, keeping one of his swords up to block in case he fails, while moving forward to get inside the reach of the polearm. Both hook swords lash out, one aimed for Michael's closest wrist, the other for the side of his neck. Tyler doesn't hesitate, knowing that failure here will mean his death. And worse, he would disappoint his Master. 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     The move puts Tyler behind Michael, and as his wrist is caught by the superior speed. It gouges in, cutting deeply. As the second blade goes for his throat, his unrestrained hand comes up to catch the slash. The cut is deep, though, and the blade only stops when it strikes bone. Blood pours from both arms, and the mountain of a man yanks hard to try to just forcibly use his disadvantage to fling Tyler over his head and down to the hard ground. 

:'''{{#var:1792|Tyler Grant (1792)}} has posed:''' As Michael moves to fling him overhead, Tyler releases his grip on his swords so that he can maintain his footing on the ground. The young man lashes out immediately with a kick towards the back of his enemy's knee, trying to bring the larger man down. Even as he lashed out with his foot he brings it back, ready to strike with it again. And again. The combination is intended to work its way up Michael's body with the last blow aimed towards the temple. 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     Tyler is certainly faster than Michael, and the first blow lands, setting his knee down. It leaves him open to the second strike at the ribs, which he blocks by reflexively moving his bicep in the way. But he's not able to move again fast enough to block the blow to the head, and his head snaps to the side and he falls over, the giant on the ground, and dazed from the attack. He's bleeding badly from his wrist and opposite arm, blood staining the fighting ring. 

:'''{{#var:1792|Tyler Grant (1792)}} has posed:''' As Michael goes down, stunned, Tyler moves to retrieve his swords, pulling hard on them to make sure they don't remain stuck in his foe's flesh. Once the blades are under his control again he starts striking out with them, moving as fast as he can, trying to slice his opponent to ribbons. The first few slashes are aimed at major muscle groups since once those are disabled it'll be impossible for the bigger man to block. The final attacks are sent towards arteries, starting with the femoral and brachial and moving towards the carotid. 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     The gashes multiply as blood is slung from larger man's body, he tries desperately to move, but he is mostly defenseless at this point. At first he takes the pain in grunts, but as it increases, he cries out. "Stop! No, please stop it!" he begs. "STOP!" The blood pours out in several places, pooling and filling the floor as he slows his protest, and when the carotid is severed, he just looks up at Tyler, a mix of hate and fear on his face, and then nothing at all as the color drains from him, and he is silent.     Meanwhile, Shredder and the assembly look on quietly. 

:'''{{#var:1792|Tyler Grant (1792)}} has posed:''' When his foe stops moving and expires, Tyler lets out a deep sigh and twitches his head hard to the side. He takes a few seconds to calm down his breathing and focus on the rest of the world around him once again. His face is a little bit red, but it's emotionless at this point. Gently, he sets his swords down on the floor and moves back towards Shredder and the other members of the Foot. When he gets to his master again he bows and straightens up, watching the armored man intently to see if there's any reaction. 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     Shredder nods solemnly. "Tyler, upon the killing of your enemy, an enemy of the Foot, you now are now a member of the Foot," he says, tying the sigil around Tyler's head. "You shall be respected as a Sifu, and will lead missions of our family to gain honor and victory over those who oppose us. The Foot will avenge you for wrongs against you, and you will avenge your family when they are wronged." 

:'''{{#var:1792|Tyler Grant (1792)}} has posed:''' "Yes Master Shredder," Tyler says proudly. Though he's got the blood of his enemy on his hands, literally as well as figuratively, he seems quite proud of himself. "I will do everything I can to strengthen the family. I will not hesitate to do what is best for us and I will take care of the other members of the Foot, because they are my brothers and sisters." 
}}

11046/City Fall: Weakest Link

2020-08-11T15:17:35Z

GodsKnite:

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2020/07/11
|Location=The Hillary Gardens, Greenwich Village
|Synopsis=Summary needed
|Cast of Characters=1233,8908
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     Hillary Gardens is not known for crime. It's known where respectable people find a place to live. Respectable people with money. Which is why it's where Bits McCoy wanted to live, despite his history of petty crime. Siding with the Foot was the best move of his career. Bits may be small, only standing 4'10", but it doesn't mean he hasn't been an absolutely savage individual. He built his small crime ring through brutality, and a willingness to take things to levels that other people would not, even most criminals were afraid of him. His gang has made even more money, and under the Shredder, he's taken up the mantle as one of the Dragon Warrior's enforcers. He makes sure those who defy the Foot are shown to a pine box, along with anyone they hold dear. It's been very effective.     And so, he lives in this apartment on the 31st floor, overlooking Manhattan. Safe. Secure. Away from the bustle that he grew up in. Away from the crime he commits, and comfortable. 

:'''{{#var:8908|Doctor Octopus (8908)}} has posed:''' With the Tri-State area underworld in a state of civil war at this point, Doctor Octopus is a well known figure in the 'resistance' by now. Fighting in the shadows for months now to break the Foots hold, intel has been gathered, even as Enforcers on both sides of the war continue to fall or be disabled. Tonight, Otto is going solo, with Fisk mercenaries and some Octoboys taking care of security for Hillary Gardens elsewhere so he isn't disturbed. He's making an effort to be a bit stealthy as he moves up the side of the building, to get to the balcony. By the time he's at the 31st floor, he's adjusting his overcoat again from the wind... and once he lands, a tentacle reaches out, and silently checks with the tip-camera for alarms or traps. 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     The scan shows that there aren't any traps, but there is an alarm on the sliding glass door that leads inside. The shades are pulled this evening, though the light from within would reveal that there is some light inside, likely the glow of a TV screen given the shifting nature of the light being shed. 

:'''{{#var:8908|Doctor Octopus (8908)}} has posed:''' Taking out the electronics kit he uses for these sort of jobs, two tentacles come up, grab the tools, and begin to work on disabling the obvious alarms. The tentacles are capable of fine manipulation... to a point, but wouldn't be able to handle precision circuit hacking... but still, this shouldn't be too hard, and Otto's actual eyes continue to watch where that light is coming from. 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     As the glass is cut through, there seems no response from within. Given that it is a standard commercial alarm system, there's not much that is out of the ordinary for Otto to need to deal with. Soon enough the alarm is disabled. So far, it seems he's gone unnoticed. 

:'''{{#var:8908|Doctor Octopus (8908)}} has posed:''' Slowly but surely, the glass is dealt with, and a tentacle snakes through to the other side to check for clasps or latches. In a moment, the glass slides open with Otto's own hands, and inside he steps, all four tentacles retracting back into his back harness. There's a quiet sneer as Otto looks over the inside briefly... before he heads towards the light of the presumed television, readying a tentacle to lash out and grab the fool that is presumably within. 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     The place is both upscale and a mess at the same time. Nice furniture, nice decor, and littered with pizza boxes, needles, and cocaine peppers several flat surfaces. Across the main room, Bits sits on a leather couch, next to him a rather overly dolled up woman, possibly a hooker, lies on the couch passed out. As he turns, Bits seems to be far more controlled than most people would be when they suddenly have an intruder in their house.     "You usually enter people's houses like this? Or is this a special treat?" he asks with a tone that says that he's ten feet tall, rather than less than five. He takes the remote casually, and clicks off the TV. 

:'''{{#var:8908|Doctor Octopus (8908)}} has posed:''' "I do what I need to do to accomplish my objective." Otto sneers back as two tentacles snap out to just above Bits, the pincers snapping at him like restrained attack dogs. "I take pride in my work... where you seem to only take pride on your brutality." Otto starts to walk inside, those tentacles staying in place above Bits for now, "Being a lapdog seems to pay well for you, at least. 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     Eyes shift up at the tentacles as they snap above him, and he sits there in his boxers, a firm scowl on his face. "So you're sayin' you think I take pride in my work, too," he answers. "Nice to hear. I'm not one who cares about my pride as much as what I can get. Call me what you like, it /does/ pay well," he agrees. "And I'm really good at it. Better than you've made out, struggling to drum up your resistance, like a sad little kitten taking on a tiger. What exactly is it that you get out of all of this, anyway?" he asks. Oh, he's aware of who Otto is. As one of the primary enforcers, Otto has not been off his radar. "Just someone who always likes to buck the system? An ego trip that says you're independent?" 

:'''{{#var:8908|Doctor Octopus (8908)}} has posed:''' "What I get... is to not answer to some egotistical wannabe who thinks he knows best, but all he wants to do is enforce some ridiculous system invented for fools and lackeys." Otto replies as he examines the room, "I came here to do some research, initially... but I've seen all I need to see." Otto finally moves in front of Bits, though keeping his distance, in case the man tries to lunge. "You've profited like a parasite off of the misery of others. I have no interest in this continuing... so I offer you a couple choices." Otto crosses his arms. "Renounce the old fool and his Foot clan, and I will get you away from him. I will get you out of the region with a new identity, since I highly doubt you want to fight him." He frowns, "or, I can deal with you right here, right now. You disappear in a shower of gore, and I go after your friends. Anyone connected to you? I destroy them for associating with a tyrant hell bent on controlling things he has no right to control." 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     "And you call me brutal," answers Bits. "So you come bursting into my home," he says with an accusatory tone. "You threaten me in my own house because I don't do what you want, and say if I side with you, you won't kill me, and you have the balls to tell me you're any different from the Shredder? Well, you're right, you're a little different. He's the one winning. What do you promise? To squirrel me away from everything I know and hide out in a hole instead of continuing with..." he gestures with one hand, "This? You don't know how to bribe really well, do you?" 

:'''{{#var:8908|Doctor Octopus (8908)}} has posed:''' "Good. You're not a fool and recognize the similarities." Otto grins at Bits. "That was a test. I have no interest in destroying you. Another will simply take your place." The tentacle pincers stop snapping at him, and sit there. "I /could/ send you to the ground floor the hard way... but that will accomplish nothing except a brief vacuum of muscle." Otto moves to sit down on a surface, Bits easily seeing himself reflected in those safety goggles Otto wears now. "What is it you desire, Bits? You have to realize that Shredder can't keep this control forever. The nature of the underworld is to fracture as people get fed up with being underlings." 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     "I have what I desire, and that pressure only applies to those on the bottom of the stack," he says. "What is it that you desire that makes you think it's worth life and limb to fight back against him? If he falls someday, then I just take the power I have made and find a way to make me more. Everyone wants to rule the world, or at least their world. The Shredder is my best bet right now to make that happen." 

:'''{{#var:8908|Doctor Octopus (8908)}} has posed:''' "You're a parasite, but you're a useful parasite." Otto reasons out, "I desire a world that embraces science and logic, not some ridiculous outdated caste system of alliances, with anything being done only by /his/ approval." Otto informs Bits. "The war against the Foot clan isn't going away. You can pretend he's going to remain on top... but considering that everyone wants to rule their own world, by your own admission... do you really think he's gonna keep this level of control? I'm working to break that control, and so are quite a few others... and yet..." Those pincers above Bits snap at his head, barely missing him. "... I continue to survive. I will continue to fight until he loses his grip, or I die... and if he could easily kill me, he would have done so on the roof of the Casino." His hands lay in his lap, "I won't ask you to risk yourself for me... but I do want information. Would you be interested in a little extra money on the side to give me intel on Foot movements and operations?" 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     "A little money..." There's a reflexive recoil as the pincers come close, just in case it was an attack, but he maintains his composure. "The Foot seems to always know," he says. "You want me to play that game? You'd have to do a lot better than a little money, because that. That is a big risk." 

:'''{{#var:8908|Doctor Octopus (8908)}} has posed:''' With that, Otto takes out a device from the kit in his satchel, and holds it up briefly, checking for surveillance signals first. 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     There's a certain readiness that comes to Bits' face as the device is pulled from the satchel. "You wanna bribe me or...what is that?" he asks, a finger motioning at the device. "You want a fight, I ain't gonna go down easy," he warns. "So what's your offer that you think will be so irresistible that I would turn on the Foot?" 

:'''{{#var:8908|Doctor Octopus (8908)}} has posed:''' "Quiet." Otto orders, "I'm working." As the device doesn't pick up anything immediately, one of his tentacles comes around to grab the device... and begins a sweep of the entire floor. That device is gonna go through the entire apartment via his tentacles as he himself turns back around to talk to Bits. "Nothing in the immediate area for surveillance. He must have a robust spy network... or the devices are remotely activated." Otto muses aloud. Then, he brings up a free hand, waving dismissively, "If I wanted to kill you, I could have just tossed out of the building by now. I gain nothing by doing that." 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     "They're ninjas," Bits smirks. "They are the definition of a spy network," he reminds. "They have somebody in every office of this city, you can take that bet." Naturally, there are wi-fi signals and cell phone signals and several other things that could be surveillance around the room. One of them is in his pocket. "And just what do you think you're gonna gain here now?" 

:'''{{#var:8908|Doctor Octopus (8908)}} has posed:''' As they talk, Otto is already moving to each device in turn, examining it completely for bugs. Using other signals for cover to piggyback is a classic hacker trick, after all. "You have a few options here, Bit... depending on what I find as I sweep for bugs." For now, Otto focuses on testing for surveillance, his tentacles keeping up with checking for bugs as he himself tests if they're actually bugs... or simply false positives. 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     The oddest signal is that one in his pocket. "I usually stick with the one where I come out on top," Bits answers. "So why don't you go with why I should be going against the most powerful man in the city as a good way to gauge your pitch," he says.     The signal belongs to a gold coin. Imbedded inside of it is a very small device which is recording audio only. Even the best of technology can only scarcely detect it. It's quite advanced. 

:'''{{#var:8908|Doctor Octopus (8908)}} has posed:''' "Oh. Interesting." Otto finally speaks as he confirms the readings. "Effective, and you fools never noticed." Otto sneers, one tentacle moving in to grab the coin from his pocket to pull it up to his eyes, examining it. "Asking over and over when I'm clearly sweeping your apartment isn't helping you at all." Otto then glances over to Bits, "You yourself are bugged. These coins have audio recorders embedded." With that, the pincer *squeezes* on that coin, as Otto tries to examine the coin right in front of Bits, adjusting his scanner to determine signal use and strength. 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     As the coin starts to come from his pocket, Bits responds far more extremely than he has to anything else, so far. His hand snaps out to grab the coin, tugging fiercely enough that it shaves the gold on the edges as he rips it free. "Now I don't go stealin' your shit," Bits says. "You better back off this." There's a certain primal protection in his voice. Not as if he's really trying to assert himself. More that he desperately doesn't want to lose the coin. 

:'''{{#var:8908|Doctor Octopus (8908)}} has posed:''' "I wasn't asking permission." Otto sneers, one tentacle coming out suddenly to try to grab bit by the back cloth of his neck, even as the other comes up to try to literally slam him into a wall. Just softly enough to not break the walls of the penthouse, but hard enough for him to definitely feel it. "I don't even want to keep it. I'm examining it. Stop your trivial possessive streak." 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     Bits seems to just intensify. He loses to the superior strength of the tentacle, and then is promptly slammed into the wall. The little man reaches out. "Give it back!" he shouts, his previously cool demeanor suddenly gone. He wants that coin, and he wants it badly. Like a man who is addicted to drugs. 

:'''{{#var:8908|Doctor Octopus (8908)}} has posed:''' Of course. Addicted to the power of being a protected pawn. It all makes sense, now. One tentacle remains to keep Bits against the wall, while his real hands begin to examine the dcoin proper. He can't do an in depth analysis, but he has enough tools to at least get an idea of what sort of circuitry he's dealing with. "Give me one good reason I should have any interest in your addiction, boy." 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     "I'm not addicted," Bits growls. "It's mine. It's not a drug it's just mine." The device is extremely small, and almost imperceptible by the scan, giving only the smallest trace. Nanotechnology. Bits pushes off against the tentacle, which is almost comically ineffective. 

:'''{{#var:8908|Doctor Octopus (8908)}} has posed:''' "Your reaction is quite obvious, young man. Addiction is addiction. Addiction is not limited to drugs." Otto looks to Bits, "Addiction can also be about power. You like the power being a protected pawn gives you. You don't want to give it up." He holds up up against the light, examining it naked, before he looks up up Bits. "Keep that up, and I will simply toss you off the tower for being annoying. My patience with you is wearing thin. Your only use to me is as an insider. If you wish to live beyond this night, I need information on the inner workings of this device." 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     "You're just a crazy fuck, you know that?" Bits accuses. "Call me addicted to power when you spit on the guy who could have got you all you wanted. Why? Because you're too proud to play second fiddle? So now you ask how to work a coin? Let's see, they put the gold in its cast, all heated up, then let it cool. Even I know that one." 

:'''{{#var:8908|Doctor Octopus (8908)}} has posed:''' "You're a fool lapping up the scraps of a another man, that's all. Shredder might be ambitious beyond his ability, but he at least has the vision to try to take control of this regions underworld." Then, Otto is moving over to the balcony, Bits coming with him as another tentacle comes up and grabs him by the leg... then dangles him over the open air. If Otto let's go, there's no way Bits will survive the drop. Safety goggles are directly looking at Bits' eyes, "I've survived for months against the Foot clan, and Shredder is far too controlling and stuck in the past for my projects. I have no need or use of being his pawn. You have two choices. Be my insider, or be a splat on the ground as a casualty in our war against the Foot clan." 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     The little man dangles over the edge of the balcony, and looks down with fear. "Well, I'm in no position to argue," he admits. "What do you want me to do?" 

:'''{{#var:8908|Doctor Octopus (8908)}} has posed:''' "My work has been effective, but stifled by the decentralized and shadowy nature of their movements. With more reliable intel, this war can be brought to a close much faster and without nearly as much life lost. A long, drawn out fight benefits no one, and leaves you open to being killed just as much. Help me to bring it to a close, and you can move on with your life, without the threat of either of us." Then, he brings the coin up to his eyes, "I'm taking this for study. You can tell the Foot clan you lost it in the toilet or something." 
}}

11942/Ethics and Fighting

2020-08-07T21:48:59Z

GodsKnite: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2020/08/07 |Location=Clinton (Hell's Kitchen), Manhattan |Synopsis=Zach runs into June on a rooftop eating cheesesteak. They talk a little before Z..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2020/08/07
|Location=Clinton (Hell's Kitchen), Manhattan
|Synopsis=Zach runs into June on a rooftop eating cheesesteak. They talk a little before Zach spots Willow walking below.
|Cast of Characters=1787,9609,190
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:1787|June (1787)}} has posed:'''     The clouds are thick, though the impending looking rain is predicted to miss the city today. It's here that a certain young woman who's appearance might be memorable sits on a rooftop. Her outfit isn't too remarkably different. This time shes' wearing a pair of tight blue denim shorts and a plain black T-shirt that has rips around the ribs. Her feet dangle over the edge of the building, not exactly a safe practice, and she holds a philly cheesesteak, a mouth currently filled with it, some cheese on her lip as she watches the city below, people scurrying around in their hurry to do whatever it is they do during the day. A black denim backpack that has seen better days sits behind her, and her feet lightly kick against the brick wall. 

:'''{{#var:9609|Zach Daniels (9609)}} has posed:''' Zach is...actually not up in the sky for once. Nope. He's been apartment hunting as it turns out, and it's hard to do that if you fly and spook possible people you need to pay money to. So he's being normal....as normal as Zach can be, the overly curious fallen angel's curiosity after all goes from curious to determined to figure out what's up with something. Those are the two settings as he makes his way up to the roof for the simple reason to look over the city as well, and plan his next move from up here. Not a bad idea given his bike's hidden away and getting it is more trouble than it's worth. On the other hand, no crossbow or sword today, but he has takeout coffee in one hand and a bag that smells of hot food in the other. It's not just June who is enjoying food while taking in the view. "Hey" Zach says as curiosity gets the better of him. "Whatcha eating?" he adds and stays where he is, a few feet away. One, he knows a thing or two about personal space, and two, easier to take off if he's not right next to somebody. 

:'''{{#var:1787|June (1787)}} has posed:'''     June's initial response is rather defined. As soon as she hears the voice behind her, one hand plants on the ledge and she kicks over to spin around. Not an aggressive stance, but one ready. And some of the peppers fall out of her cheesesteak by consequence. "Shit," she grumbles. "Uh, hi?" she responds, with that same look people give the guy that comes to their door to sell them a vacuum cleaner. She glances over the man, the wings make him a rather easy person to remember from the previous day. 

:'''{{#var:9609|Zach Daniels (9609)}} has posed:''' A startled June? Okay, Zach kind of does feel bad now, though he watches her. "Hi" he nods. Not helping the whole he wants to sell her something look, Zach. Even if he doesn't, though he stays put and opens the bag, pulling out a pizza slice and nibbling on it before it slides back into the bag. He's struggling with asking why she's up here, though. Can't exactly ask why she's up here and not come off as weird. Okay, okay... The wings, and such? They make him weird by design, true. But, but...Zach's trying to be normal, normal for New York. Ruffling his wings a bit he folds them behind him and smiles a little. "I wasn't expecting anyone up on a rooftop, it's okay though" he adds quickly as if worrried he'll spook her or something. 

:'''{{#var:1787|June (1787)}} has posed:'''     Her eyes don't leave Zach as he talks, but she does take another bite of her cheesesteak. She's hungry. "So who shent ya?" she asks around the bite of food, as if assuming that's a lie. "Looks a ya shays Foot." she swallows. "But they don't usually announce themselves first." She narrows her eyes. "Your the guy that dropped that poor fucker from the sky yesterday." 

:'''{{#var:9609|Zach Daniels (9609)}} has posed:''' Zach looks puzzled, "Why would anyone send me? I live here, this is my part of the city. Oh...that...my hand slipped" Zach shrugs. "He was going to hurt somebody, and he fell out of my grip. What's the ig deal?" Zach asks. "He was out of the fight, he couldn't hurt anyone after that" Zach explains. Well, obviously. He was splatted on the ground, Zach saw it all and looks like he's used to fighting in many ways. For his kind, well, dropping people's a trick they didn't learn. Gravity though...that's a thing. "Zach raises his palms. "What, do you have a problem with me dealing with people in a fight? I was trained to fight" Zach says tilting his head just a little up to the heavens. It's not the world's most subtle clue really, and his wings flutter a little as he looks up to the heavens and then back to June. "Look, i'll be blunt. If somebody is fighting me, I'll defend myself with everything I have. it's how I was taught" he says with confidence. "I've no idea what this Foot is..." He's not up to speed on the movers and shakers. So much for sticking his head out of his apartment door. "If you must know, I was up here taking a break apartment hunting" 

:'''{{#var:1787|June (1787)}} has posed:'''     June doesn't interrupt at any point as Zach goes through his lengthy justification and defense, thought she seems less concerned as he does, and takes a few more bites of her sandwich. If he was there to kill her, he'd probably not go through this level of self-justification.     "Hey man, I didn't say I judged on it. The asshat knew his risks when he took the job. Just said you were that guy. Not my problem, made my job easier. Won't see me playin' the gushy value of life card." 

:'''{{#var:9609|Zach Daniels (9609)}} has posed:''' Zach wouldn't go through all this spiel just to kill someone. He'd fall back on his training and fight like an angel. Which is why he's not killing June. They went through that fight on the same side, which has earned her his respect. "I don't like people who pull those cards out" Zach says gently, chewing on the pizza slice again, some onions, salami, and cheeese and tomato sauce, and peppers on the pizza slice as Zach munches, andd sits. ""I'm of the belief that you do what you need to in a fight to come out alive and whoever fights you dead" he admits once he'e's swallowed and can speak again. "I was trained to fight and that's all I knew for most of my life. I'm learning slowly there's more to life than just fighting" He should just spell it out for June, probably, or something. They both have the same thesis on fights it seems. "Though would you throw somebody off a building if they were pointing a gun at you or had a sword ready to kill you?" Zach's asking the interesting questions. "Also is what you're eating any good? I haven't bought another bagel since yesterday" 

:'''{{#var:190|Willow Rosenberg (190)}} has posed:''' Enter Willow, upon the ground. But she has bagels! And a book. Which is why she doesn't look up, but down, as she passes on by. It's a good book!! 

:'''{{#var:1787|June (1787)}} has posed:'''     "I mean," June shrugs, "Unless I needed them alive for some reason," she says regarding her response to someone being thrown off a building. She looks at her mostly finishes sandwich. "It's cheesesteak, of course it's good. Even bad cheesesteaks are good. Where are you from that you don't know about cheesesteak?" 

:'''{{#var:9609|Zach Daniels (9609)}} has posed:''' "I...I...umm" Zach says strolling to the edge of the roof as he spies a Willow and lifts a wing to wave, that...sorta jars feathers loose as they get caught up in the winds. It's only a few feathers,they'll grow back. "it's complicated" Zach admits. He's trying to figure out how to anser the 'where are you from' question. Oh no. How's he going to explain the hi, I'm a fallen angel thing. If Willow looks up Zach's not hard to spot. But who looks up in this city, then? Zach doesn't need to when he's flying, granted, but...he's trying to figure out how to alert Willow without spooking her. She brought bagels...and a book. 

:'''{{#var:190|Willow Rosenberg (190)}} has posed:''' Of course the definition of 'good books' depended on who is reading it! 'Binomials and Their Internal Planes" really was a Willow kind of a good book. She just finishes the bagels, a stops to reread the last couple of pages. "Cooool". Sadly she doesn't see him. 

:'''{{#var:1787|June (1787)}} has posed:'''     June throws a foot back up on the ledge, and eats the last bite of her cheesesteak. "Always is," she comments to the 'complicated' response. "You dun wanna say it ain't my shit, you keep it to yourself if you want. She glances down, trying to determine which person below he's trying to wave to. "Rule of forty-five bud. Whoever you're wavin' at isn't gonna see you." 

:'''{{#var:9609|Zach Daniels (9609)}} has posed:''' "Nah, more you won't believe me if I told you. Fine. I'm a fallen angel. There I said it" Zach says as he shrugs. "Pity, I was trying to get her attention" he says leaning out over the ledge and very carefully waves. Zach's using his wings to steady himself, rather than fall off. "So wait, it's not a literal cheese steak? I'm not sure if I'd eat a literal cheese steak" Zach says glancing back over to June again. 

:'''{{#var:190|Willow Rosenberg (190)}} has posed:''' "Eh, who would have thought of that. Weird." Willow debates a *third* bagel with cream cheese. 

:'''{{#var:1787|June (1787)}} has posed:'''     "Rule of forty-five. No one looks up high enough to see things at a 45 degree angle or greater from their field of vision. Not unless they have a reason to." She shrugs, "What do you mean literal cheesesteak? It's cheese on sliced steak? Not sure how else you can interpret that. Fuckin' weirdo." She glances down. "You're like a flyin' bird man, why don't you just go down there and say hi to your girlfriend there or whatever? Not gonna bug me any. Or you fucked because of yesterday? Been there." 

:'''{{#var:9609|Zach Daniels (9609)}} has posed:''' That gets a glare from Zach. "I'm not a fucking bird man. I'm a fallen angel" he shouts with his arms folded. "You think I'm weird, That's nothing compared to the idiots up there" he says giving the heavens a lookk then back to June. "So how the hell would I get attention, drop food or something or whistle or I don't know what?" he asks and leans back over the edge of the roof with a whistle. If this fails he'll fly down and land then. That and the shout about what he is is...not hard to hear, really. 

:'''{{#var:190|Willow Rosenberg (190)}} has posed:''' Unfortunately (or fortunately, depending on your perspective) *that* gets her attention. She swivels her head, and eventually looks up. *blink blink* "Zach? What are you doing up there?" And then she sees June. "Uhm, hi?" Did he take her advice so fast? 

:'''{{#var:1787|June (1787)}} has posed:'''     June arches a brow. "Fallen angel. Sure." The sarcasm is real. "Very badass and all. But now you got attention up here, I should probably just mosey before someone sees me."     From Willow's perspective, June glanced down, but then just disappeared over the edge of the building, and she grabs her backpack off the ground. Not even a hello back, how rude. 

:'''{{#var:9609|Zach Daniels (9609)}} has posed:''' Zach watches June go, as he calls after her. "You know I can see you right?" he mutters and turns his attention to Willow, sitting on the edge of the roof with his wings splayed out on said roof as he dangles his feet over the edge. "I was up here apartment hunting" Zach offers looking down to Willow. "I can hop down and come back to the street if you like?" he adds. 

:'''{{#var:190|Willow Rosenberg (190)}} has posed:''' "Hi!" Willow is uncertain, but she can't see the other woman. "Did you find anything you like?" 

:'''{{#var:9609|Zach Daniels (9609)}} has posed:''' Zach ruffles a wing, "Not yet no, I was still looking and not found anything. I've yet to go through every bit off Hell's Kitchen mind but I'll get there though. you know of anywhere I could get a place at?" he offers and does glide down to the street, looking around as if wondering if anyone saw him land. Still, Zach looks up and down the street for a moment and looks pleased. 
}}

11371/City Fall: Under New Management

2020-08-05T19:00:37Z

GodsKnite: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2020/04/21 |Location=Colgate Heights, Burnley |Synopsis=Shredder Arrives in Gotham to rebuke Penguin's use of his power. |Cast of Characters=1233,9..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2020/04/21
|Location=Colgate Heights, Burnley
|Synopsis=Shredder Arrives in Gotham to rebuke Penguin's use of his power.
|Cast of Characters=1233,9531,8765,8813,58,9571,742
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     The Theatre is just letting out. A showing of Faust was being put on tonight, and The Penguin, one of Shredder's proxies for Gotham, is dressed the part in his traditional suit and bowtie, a true penguin outfit. The irony perhaps should nto be lost, given their similar pacts with the devil. It's spitting just a little rain outside, a spring rain threatening to become something more. As the high society exit and make their ways toward their cars, Oswald Cobblepot is the first one to raise his umbrella, waiting for his driver. 

:'''{{#var:9531|Ami Han (9531)}} has posed:''' When you are in the states, why not take a look at some of the cultural stuff they offer? As a result, a white haired woman with a half mask in a white dress had been at the theatre, looking up at the sky when she stepped out of the door, eying the sky. Rain... and she lacked an umbrella. Too bad. She reaches for her purse to pull out a phone to call for a taxi. She had planned to go down to a bar afterwards... but now? Better a taxi to a Hotel 

:'''{{#var:8765|Shannon (8765)}} has posed:'''      It had taken a little bit of doing for a student to secure a ticket to the showing of Faust, but after all, with talk of medical studies to be had at Gotham General, it couldn't hurt to make a full day of things. After all, how often was Shannon going to get a chance to venture a little bit out of her comfort zone and see what was, to her at least, a completely new area? It could be a bit hairy at times, to be sure, but she had the means for a quick escape if need be.      So what could it hurt to dress up a little and enjoy the evening?      She's in an ankle-length black dress with a sweetheart neckline, simple black pumps, and bellcap sleeves. Fitting for the occasion--and for the occasional chill in the weather--she has a rather dramatic-looking hooded black wool opera cloak, lined with red satin. The cloak had two slits in the back, however, to allow for one peculiarity.      Wings. Large, angelic wings.      The young blonde woman peered up at the sky, squinting slightly, her pale blonde hair twisted into a simple French knot at the back of her head; her golden tresses are streaked just a bit on the left side of her face, with one lock of ice blue, the shade of her eyes.      Damn it. Rain.      She sighed softly, shaking her head. This was going to make for a messy flight home. Let's hope there wasn't high wind to go along with it. 

:'''{{#var:8813|Berri (8813)}} has posed:''' Technically it wasn't quite the same thing, but 'The Penguin' wasn't the only one with the protection from the rain. That was probably about as far as similarities went when it came to Berri and the crimelord. With her parasol over her shoulder, the girl in the icecream colors was making her way toward the theatre. With her hair a dichromatic half-half of bright pink and dark brunette, the young telepath was absently checking her phone as she travelled. 

:'''{{#var:58|Barbara Gordon (58)}} has posed:''' Babs isn't doing much by halves. For instance, she's got her eyes on the screen, that is, the giant screen that takes up a whole wall. She's got her cowl on, so to speak. She's pacing the operations room of the Nest, too and fiddling with the hlographic table, manipulating it, then returning to the console to adjust the screen. Babs is flicking through windows on the screen and not saying a word yet. If anything, Babs settles in, flickiing through cameras. To those whose communications Babs has, she smiles. "Hello?" she asks. If anyone hears her....Babs is listening intently. 

:'''{{#var:9571|Tyrone Johnson (9571)}} has posed:''' On the roof of the opera are two figures - one predictably black, the other pale as a ghost. There was no fine show for them. Tickets cost money, and they'd vowed a better life than theft. So for now, they make due. A woman in white spent the hours listening to the muffled music from inside, dancing to the songs who's pacing can be made out. She moves with a natural grace that's almost supernatural, a wingless angel mourning what may have been while her devil watches in pensive silence from his rooftop box seat. The Phantom and his Christine, but without the songs and falling chandeliers. The night's not over, though! As the opera ends and the crowds begin to depart, the rooftop duo come to the edge and look down on the milling figures in their finery. 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     Cobblepot grunts to one of his two bodyguards next to him. "Waugh, See what's taking them so long," he demands. "And make sure they have my girl for the night," he adds.     "Yes sir," the monster musclehead on his right answers, unbotherd by the drizzling downfall. He pulls his cell phone out while the aristorcatic air is presented by his employer. It's a few moments, but surely enough a long nosed Rols Royce comes into view, and after waiting for a moment to find a space, it pulls up into the loading zone next to sidewalk. 

:'''{{#var:8813|Berri (8813)}} has posed:''' There was going to be a young woman in Cobblepot's car tonight...but it wasn't quite in the way he was expecting or hoping for. Resting a little down the street, her phone is finally tucked away as she watches the luxury car pull up. Finally! A mutely exhaled breath, she begins to lazily walk, every step drawing her a little closer. She'd wait, of course, for the Penguin to be in the vehicle, for it to pull away from the theatre and begin to travel...only for it to slow to a crawl. Almost certainly to the criminal's bewilderment, the driver suddenly stiffened, fingers gripping the wheel tighter while his eyes remain fixed ahead. "The Shredder would like a word with you..." he speaks dully, a faint drop to monotone suggesting the telepathic influence before the side door opens and the 'icecream' mutant steps into the car, smirking silently as she sits herself down and sets herself down and locks the door with a flick of her finger. Cobblepot knew her face, she'd even worked a job for him once, but it was still likely rather unnerving to see the mute girl here, 'talking' through his driver. 

:'''{{#var:8765|Shannon (8765)}} has posed:'''      Holy moly. There's stretch limos, and then there's /stretched/ limos that would do Pizza The Hutt proud! Shannon backs well away from this one; someone who had that much money, likely had a lot of power to go with it, and was probably not someone she wanted to get anywhere near. No, it was time to head on home, as soon as she could find a clear enough spot to allow for an effective takeoff. So she slips through the crowd, excusing herself with a polite smile here and there till she can find a clear spot at the fringes where she can spread her wings and, with a few strong downstrokes, make her way into the air.      Now, if only the clouds would part so she could get her bearings and head home.... 

:'''{{#var:58|Barbara Gordon (58)}} has posed:''' Babs is the Oracle, she's the hacker other hackers fear and whisper about. The call? Babs can find where it came from. The car? That gets a look. Babs already has a process running to run the plates, if she gets enough of a look. Then she swings the camera through a full 360 degrees of rotation and plans her next move. Up to the roof. The two figures. Babs watches for a moment, snapping photos that she sends to her Aerie. Then...where is a good angle on the crow....wait a minute... That who she think? Hmm, she /could/ call GCPD in on this, and start a bloodbath. Or. She could....hmm. She's got a more devious and cruel idea in mind. Shannon's movement gets Babs attention. Fortunately. Babs is 110% on Shannon's side. She pushes a button and fires off a text to Shannon's phone. Hello. If you read this, do not be alaarmed. I am on your side. Then. Then she sets about her 'time to eff with Cobblepot' idea. Step 1: Rig up a coded and hacked together voice changer. It's not the Shadow's one. But she's going for that same terrifying effect. Step 2. Go through....well, the rich penguin suited guy likes his fineries. No, no. Her target's the muscle. Three. Call the meathead's phone. On with the voice changer. Time to terrify the poor meathead. Oh, Babs was going to enjoy the hell out of this. She sits, silently sending a message to all the Birds what she's up to... 

:'''{{#var:9531|Ami Han (9531)}} has posed:''' The White Fox waits for her taxi as the limo comes up, eying it carefully while staying out of the rain. Because she desn't want to get wet. Eyes wander up, to the overhanging roof over the theater, then back down to the road... wait, was that a shadow on the roof? Back the eyes jump, trying to figure it out, just when someone asked for excusion right behind her shoulder. Turning her head to Shannon asking for a little space, she nods, stepping sideways for the angel girl. "Sure, but be careful, it's raining." 

:'''{{#var:8765|Shannon (8765)}} has posed:'''      Shannon smiles lightly at Ami, dipping her head. But, her brows furrow, her glacier blue eyes gone intent for just a second. No way. What were the odds? Was this one of the ones she'd seen not much more than a week before? She shakes her head slightly and steps back, making her way into the air. "Merci."      A few wingstrokes into the air, though, her phone begins to do it's buzzing little dance in her brown leather bag, which sufficed for a purse. She frowns, withdrawing the device from her bag and reading the message.      "What the heck..?"      Her fingers are quick to tap out a message in reply to the mystery person who was texting her. <<Understood, but who are you? What's going on?>>      Great. There was just no rest for the weary sometimes. She had a funny feeling this was going to be a busy night--and another AAR that would take some explaining back home. 

:'''{{#var:742|Tandy Bowen (742)}} has posed:''' Once she stops dancing, Dagger lets out a long wistful sigh under her breath. "I miss this, Ty. Just being normal. Having a normal life. Why can't we go back to that? I want to dance again so bad." She is wrapped up in the folds of his cloak now, half hidden in the darkness as she looks over the roof to the streets below. Not recognizing any big names of Gotham, she just admires the limos and those who get in and out. "That could have been me you know." She says softly. "I had it all. I had a real life.. and I threw it all away." Her hand glows brightly as a blade forms across her palm, staring down at it. One would say it's a weapon, she would call it her curse. 

:'''{{#var:9571|Tyrone Johnson (9571)}} has posed:''' "You threw nothing away. They took that choice from us." Cloak says as he moves to stand behind Dagger, his fabric shroud rippling in the rooftop breeze. "The streets are temporary, if someone is strong enough. What they did to us? You cannot just go back home after that. The people we loved don't need to be apart of this. We fight, so they don't have to." Like her, he continues to watch the crowd disperse to their cars and taxis. Most don't warrant much attention, though his eyes do pick up Shannon's figure with a low, huffed noise in the back of his throat. "It's that girl. From before." 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     The Penguin frowns at Berri. "What are you doing here?" he asks. "You don't just get in my car at your female whim! Get out." Shen she says that the Shredder would like to speak with him, he pales a bit. "Now, I told him, Gotham is under control now, people are falling in line, see?" he tries to lie. Which any crook in Gotham could say was not true. The factions are posed to explode into war in the streets. "You know, Berri, you know how Gotham is. The Shredder, he thinks it'll be just like New York, but it's not. We have a whole different breed of criminal here. You and I, we aren't the norm. You told him that, right?" he asks.     The two bodyguards react when the car pulls away without them, the one with a phone getting the ring from Babs. "Who is it?" he asks, teeth already grit from the sudden unexpected event of the two defenders being left behind. Meanwhile, the second charges after the vehicle. "Hey! Hey!" he shouts. "What's goin' on!" He rushes up, trying to open the door that was just locked by Berri. 

:'''{{#var:58|Barbara Gordon (58)}} has posed:''' Babs has both her voice changers on. THe one in her comms gear. And the one she's whipped up. The result is like opening a door to demons in speech therapy. Jarring, juddering hissing godawful words. Just three words. "I see you. Put me through to Mr Cobblepot" Okay that's more than three words. But. Babs is determined to get her point across, standing by the console. Looking at the screen Babs sits again, cranking up the voice changer's settings. Actually both of them. "Tell him the night is a scary, scary time" With that she hangs up. Hopefully that meathead's terrified. Babs has a much bigger target to bring down... 

:'''{{#var:8813|Berri (8813)}} has posed:''' A tilt of her head, Berri just regards the criminal's words, those subtle and not so subtle faltering signs of nerves. At his heart the Penguin was a 'fixer' and an organizer after all, not a fighter. There's no nod, no shake of her head, nothing to suggest she'd agreed or disagreed with him in any way, shape or form. Instead? The girl simply lifts a hand and snaps her fingers. She'd sensed it, the sudden concern and realization from the thugs that something was wrong. Of course she didn't -know- about the hacked phone, only the reaction it garnered. She didn't know about heroes lurking nearby, only that she needed to be moving. That snap? The driver puts his foot down and begins to drive away. 

:'''{{#var:742|Tandy Bowen (742)}} has posed:''' When Cloak points out Shannon down below, Dagger shuffles a bit closer to the edge and peers over it. "So it is. I wonder if she was enjoying the show." She says in a soft tone, pulling the fabric of the cloak around her a bit more as if it was a security blanket. There seems to be a bit of a scene down below and it catches her eyes. With the car containing Berri and the Penguin heading off quickly, she squints her blue eyes, making a low noise in her throat. 

:'''{{#var:9571|Tyrone Johnson (9571)}} has posed:''' "I don't see any of the others, so maybe." Cloak replies, not seeming concerned either way as he wards the wind off of Dagger with shadow-striped fabric. "This doesn't seem like their normal territory." He watches the goings on down below. People getting into cars? Not concerning. Someone looking upset that they're locked out of a car that is now starting to pull away? An interest. "Looks like that wasn't her cab to take." 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     The guard holding the handle of the door slaps on the window at Berri, yelling as he's yanked forward, dragged by the car for several feet before losing his grip. The rear wheel of the car runs over his arm, undoubtedly breaking it.     The meathead looks at his phone, hearing the voice. "You kidnap the boss?" he asks. "What is this? Where are you takin' him?" he demands of the phone and the mysterious voice on the other side. Of course, in the crowd of the wealthy, this all draws attention for a few moments, but this is Gotham, and they've learned it's best for them if they just look the other way, leaving the more sinister activities to go unchecked as the car peels down the road.     Penguin growls. "You know, I always liked you, Berri," he says. "You're a pretty girl, and smart, and have a great knack for getting things done. You could just let me know what he wants. We would be all square, see?" he challenges as the car speeds through the rain, which is starting to pick up. 

:'''{{#var:8765|Shannon (8765)}} has posed:'''      Great. There was no answer to Shannon's reply to the mystery text. Whatever was going to happen, was going to happen soon.      Perhaps the roof of the theater would be out of range, and a safer observation point than simply hanging about mid-air. If nothing else, some of the architecture would provide concealment for long enough that she could escape if necessary. But if there was one thing she was sure of, Shannon knew this.      It would be nearly impossible for her to leave if someone got hurt. She wouldn't forgive herself easily.      So she flew a bit higher, landing on the roof--to find she was not alone. No way. Just... no way. What were the odds of running into these two again? She nods to both once, silent, turning to observe the scene below.      Yeah, no. She wasn't looking for trouble. But if it came, she wasn't going to shy away, either. 

:'''{{#var:9531|Ami Han (9531)}} has posed:''' As the car tarts to speed off, almost ripping someone onto the street, White Fox gets her attention back to the scene in front of her. A split moment she seems to hesitate, then she uses her phone again, canceling her taxi, even as it was laden with a fee. Instead, she pressed herself out of the waiting crowd to start to jog into the direction the car had sped into, changing into a run and leaping up to the roofs. Yes, she went full on into a run after the car, on the roofs. That's as fast as she can. 

:'''{{#var:742|Tandy Bowen (742)}} has posed:''' "Ty, I think that fat short guy got kidnapped." Dagger says to Cloak as she watches the scene unfold. A man got ran over as well. She gives a quick glance about the street as the guards seem to panic, but no one else in Gotham is even responding. "Wow. This city is .. terrible. At least in New York someone would help that poor guy up." It doesn't appear that she is going to help him up either. Those guys are not her concern. "Should we intervene and help the guy who was kidnapped out?" As she goes to step into the cloak, she pauses at the sight of Shannon flying up to join them. Her lips curve upwards in amusement. "Hey, Wings. We're going to stop that car and find out what's going on. You coming or what?" She asks, holding her glowing hand out to her. "But if you do, you have to hold on to me." 

:'''{{#var:8813|Berri (8813)}} has posed:''' A shrug, that's her answer. Berri tilts her head to the side, but never a word is spoken from her lips. Of course, she was 'borrowing' the driver at the moment, so that did tend to offer her more options than the usual writing, sign language or text messages that she usually resorted to. "I don't know," the driver speaks in his dazed monotone, even as they travel onwards to the meeting point and the young woman retrieves her phone to message a rather simple 'on the way'. Right now the focus is on the driver, the criminal across from her...she hadn't quite the awareness to detect those pursuing her yet. Instead she lets the driver answer a little more. "You know more than anyone, it's 'just business'." 

:'''{{#var:8765|Shannon (8765)}} has posed:'''      Make sure you're not alone.      Fine. Shannon couldn't stand idly by, but she could hold to those words of wisdom. She nods once to Dagger and smiles lightly, offering her hand in kind. "So much for avoiding trouble, huh? Let's go." She offers the same smile to Cloak, nodding once. He had meant well, that day in the church, but hopefully even he could see she wasn't deliberately seeking out trouble.      This was going to be a long night. 

:'''{{#var:9571|Tyrone Johnson (9571)}} has posed:''' "A brightly colored woman gets into a car with a man in a suit then they drive off?" Cloak doesn't sound terribly convinced this is much to be concerned about as he looks to the man on the ground, drawling out in an unrushed pace, "That happens every day, particularly around lunch hour. Someone could call in assistance for him. Last I checked, arms don't bend that way." His eyes turn towards Shannon as she alights on the rooftop they already occupy. "Mm. If you two insist." States Cloak as he looks from angel to angel. "I may not know this city, but the shadows in them all are all the same." And once the two would be reach with Dagger securely holding onto Shannon, he would conceal the two in the folds of his cloak and leave his partner's light to ward off the nightmares and cold of the abyssal, endless silence within. No fancy lights or gadgets with this teleporting, just a quick jaunt through the void. 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     The car speeds through the city as Berri directs the driver, soon to arrive at a rather nice local restaurant.     A Foot soldier stands at the back door where the car pulls in, and approaches the car.     Inside, the Shredder waits, displeased to be certain with the current performance of Cobblepot's attempt to join the criminals of the city. Cobblepot eyes the back door, and then Berri. "We couldn't have gone in the front, could we? Or is that too upscale for the Shredder? Always lurking in the shadows. He is too demanding. And Ronan and I, we have done wonders in promoting his precious Foot. He shakes his umbrella handle at Berri, and sighs. "Very well, I suppose there's no getting out of it now. I'm sure he knows we are here already." 

:'''{{#var:742|Tandy Bowen (742)}} has posed:''' "They ran someone over, Cloak. They commited a crime. Though it may not be a crime against kids, it is still a crime and out of the ordinary. If an innocent is in danger, we need to help them." Dagger says to her partner. As she takes Shannon by the hand, she can feel a warm light radiate through her. A mother's warmth. The Lord's touch. Beautiful, beautiful light. She will need it when they step into the darkness that is Cloak's form. For within that dark, there are screams of terror, ripped through the guts of those he holds prisoner who commited the most heinous of crimes. Those who do not /deserve/ such light. As they pass through the dark, Dagger says to Shannon. "Just hold on to me and don't let go, or else you will fall victim to Cloak's prison. Do not shed a tear for these people. What they have done to children, they deserve it." The men are being torn apart by demons. Stabbed with larger than life synringes filled with poisoned drugs. Some of them are being yanked apart by invisible forces. There is even one who is bathed in blood, with money being crammed down his throat by what appears to be Lady Liberty. A dirty cop perhaps? Either way, it's a factory of nigthmares. "Close your eyes if you need to." She says softly to the girl. "You do not want to grow numb to this like I have." 

:'''{{#var:8765|Shannon (8765)}} has posed:'''      Numb? Oh, no. There was no numbness in the winged girl's expression. Certainly, there was the initial shock and horror as she saw horrors that seemed to come from her own nightmares. Though she blanched, she squeezes Dagger's hand. Within the space of a few heartbeats, her expression shifts, her wings ruffling and spreading. Her brows draw into a black scowl.      Oh, no. She wasn't numb.      She was furious.      "I can't be numb to this," she murmurs to Dagger. "Trust me, I'll be venting when I get home. Just say what you need help with."      It seemed she was indeed not entirely a stranger to the very danger of which Dagger spoke. 

:'''{{#var:8813|Berri (8813)}} has posed:''' Another shrug, but there might actually have been amusement that crosses Berri's lips before she finally reaches out when the car pulls in and parks, a little furrowing of her brow in effort before the driver lets out a groan of discomfort and then collapses as the psychic 'push' renders him unconcious. He'd be fine, but it would keep him out for the meeting. A flick of the switch, the doors unlock and she gestures for the large man to make his exit. She'd follow of course, but today she was basically just a 'delivery girl'. 

:'''{{#var:9531|Ami Han (9531)}} has posed:''' The White fox stops as she sees the car halting in the back alley, peering down at the vehicle. A few moments she looks around, then pulls out the phone again to check something. Where she was, which district this was. And who was responsible. 

:'''{{#var:9571|Tyrone Johnson (9571)}} has posed:''' Crossing through the dimension that Cloak is both warden and prisoner of, those traveling with him would catch fleeting glimpses of the world beyond. It's like catching a glimpse of your room through the sheets over your head in the night, dim sensations that there is a building here, or a car. Steps. That's all it is, just a few steps through that distorted, hellish world. Then, they're back in Gotham. Or did they ever really leave? There's down the road from where the Penguin's ride is parked, looking from the end of one shadowed alley and down another. "Recognize any of them?" He questions lowly of Dagger and Shannon as he releases them and folds his cloak back around his ephemeral shadowed body. 

:'''{{#var:58|Barbara Gordon (58)}} has posed:''' Babs fumes silently as the Rolls ends up in a back alley...great. No cameras. Fine, time to get creatiive then...time to get creative. Oracle's the digital knight aftr all. Much like her flesh and blood counterpart, Babs has a reputation. So, Babs looks over the screen, and paces more. She's keeping an eye on the screen, then watching the operations area of the Nest. How. How is Babs going to get a good view and keep an eye and an ear on the meeting,then? 

:'''{{#var:742|Tandy Bowen (742)}} has posed:''' "I remember telling myself that once myself." Dagger says in regards to being numb. After years of traveling from here to there as Cloak's most reliable Uber passenger, her heart has grown thick walls of concrete. The words even sound sad as they slip past her lips. So beautiful, but so broken, this angel of the light. When they step out of the darkness, she lets go of Shannon's hand once she is sure she is free of the ice cold clutches of the dark dimension. "I recognize the men in the pajamas. They were working for the Shredder, right?" She says to Cloak. "Who is Ronan?" She asks as she picks up the voices, tucking herself in closer to Cloak so that her glow isn't seen from their spot. 

:'''{{#var:8765|Shannon (8765)}} has posed:'''      The winged young woman shakes her head. "I don't know anyone here," she murmurs. "Just you two." Though her black scowl of fury remained, Dagger's light blunted the worst of it, tempering it with a bit of calm into something perhaps a little more useful.      Yer mad. Good. That's fuel for the furnace.      Cloak isn't the only one on with a cloak. Smiling some, she removes her opera cloak with its red lining and hood, and holds it out to Dagger. "Maybe this will help douse the glow a little," she offers. At least it was a problem she herself didn't have. 

:'''{{#var:9531|Ami Han (9531)}} has posed:''' As people appear below her, White fox lets herself fall off the ledge, landing almost silent in the 'typical' superhero landing, smiling some. "I know you, angel. Or should I say Nightingale?" she asked to the winged one while getting back to a proper standing, gesturing to the car. "What brings you here? The same reckles driver?" The head tilts a little, eyes refocusssing on Cloak and Dagger. "And who might you be? White Fox, NIS." Though she doesn't bother to say what the NIS was. 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     Naturally, one option for surveillance would be the Penguin's own phone in his jacket pocket. Oswald gets out of the car, and straightens himself up before walking on his own into the restaurant.     Karai stands at the Shredder's side, as the master of the Foot looks down on the portly man. "Cobblepot," he says casually, "You led me to believe that I would fare better to allow you to rally the underworld of Gotham to my cause. That they would eagerly side with me to rid themselves of the Bat as one, and find themselves wealth and power." He isn't sitting, as many power figures might in this situation. He stands. And he doesn't move a muscle. "It seems that I have made a mistake to allow myself to trust in your capabilities."     Meanwhile, outside, the restaurant looks rather normal, other than it's status of being closed for the evening. Perhaps a little earlier than normal closing time, but it is night. 

:'''{{#var:742|Tandy Bowen (742)}} has posed:''' Furrowing her brows, Dagger watches the blinds go down to block their view of the windows. She dulls her light as she steps in closer to Cloak, letting his darkness feed off her fires to cool her a bit. "We can teleport to the back and go in that way if necessary, or we can draw them out with a distraction. Their ninjas are quite formidable and they always go for the kill, rather than submission." Glancing over to Shannon, she weighs the young girl for a moment. "Cloak and I were built for war and this is no place for a child to get dragged into. Our mission is to protect children from harm and abuse, not drag them into it. If we go in, you need to stay behind Cloak as best you can, because bullets and blades will not hurt him. He can keep you safe." She reaches out for the girl's hand. "Take it before we travel once more." 

:'''{{#var:8765|Shannon (8765)}} has posed:''' Shannon furrows her brows in kind. "That's one option," she concedes to Dagger, looking between her and Cloak. "The other option is I maintain surveillance out here, if there is a way we can maintain communications. If they call in backup, at least I can warn you." She pauses. "I suspect we may have an ally, though for the life of me I don't know who." She looks about to inch a bit closer to Cloak and Dagger, paused in her tracks by the voice right nearby--a voice she'd only heard briefly a few days past. She turns to glance at the source, and smiles some. "It's a bit complicated," she begins. "Come to see a play, wind up helping out with other things." Yeah. This was going to take a little explaining when she got home. 

:'''{{#var:58|Barbara Gordon (58)}} has posed:''' Babs is, indeed, that ally. From all the way over in the Nest, too Communications are sorta important and she's searching for a camera. Finding one she moves it with a whirr to focus on Shannon, and fires off another text. I'm on your side, I'm keeping watch over you Babs pauses and then decides, fuck it. She sends another text. Oracle is watching out for you. You are in good hands. 

:'''{{#var:9571|Tyrone Johnson (9571)}} has posed:''' Tyrone Johnson lays the edge of his cloak around his counterpart as they study the restaurant. He looks to Shannon as Tandy speaks to her and responds, "We don't carry tools like that. We only ever need to speak with each other. What do you mean ally? Who, and where?" Says the man with a mix of suspicion and annoyance as his gaze moves back towards the restaurant. "We need to move. If we go in, that's less room for them to maneuver - or escape." 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     "I told you," Cobblepot says, "They are only held together by their hate of the Batman. When he appeared to have died, it did nothing to help our situation. Now that he's...well, not dead, things are different."     "I am uninterested in your excuses. The only reason you are not already dead is that you have value to me beyond your leadership skills. Namely, your personal resources." He walks casually across the room, examining a picture on the wall for a moment. "I am going to take this city myself. If you wish to be part of this, I want to know all that you can tell me about the series of misfit defenders that attempt to keep the power of the city in the hands of its incompetent officers."     Outside the building, however, things are far quieter. Given that it is defended by ninjas, that might be expected, as the security is staying hidden for the moment. 

:'''{{#var:9531|Ami Han (9531)}} has posed:''' White Fox scowels as the youngsters talk and babel and simply ignore her for long moments, brushing her hair back. "First of all, you might recognize that you're not alone. And believe me, war has seen the most unlikely people win. And the most unlikely alliances. When you are home, look up Castle Itter for a history lesson. But now, let's focus on what's here. I can vouch for Nigtingale being useful." She does listen, then she sighs as she reaches for the belt, searching in it before pulling out a pair of sticky microphones. They are technically meant as survellance gear, but better than nothing. Offering the small patches, she shrugs. "Well, at least you could update us from within and call for backup if you want to take these. Just peel of the back and tack them to your collar and I should hear you loud and clear. And regarding allies... me for example? You want to go in, but that shop has 2 entries: front and back. How about a two prong attack? You decide upon your entry path, I take the other. I can deal with a few Ninja. I can deal with more even." 

:'''{{#var:58|Barbara Gordon (58)}} has posed:''' Babs is watching through a camera, and....well, she's looking up numbers now. Why not help with a distraction from afar, huh? Babs is gathering up all the intel she's got and sending it on to the team, too. See. Oracle is nice like that. Mission Control? Maybe. Just maybe. Still, she waits. She's got a few ideas for how to distract people in there. Though admittedly she's waiting to see what that rag tag motley crew do. Not Crue. Crew. There's a huge difference, Babs being locked in on helping this group. 

:'''{{#var:742|Tandy Bowen (742)}} has posed:''' "We don't even know if this is something we want to get involved in." Dagger says as she frowns upwards to Cloak, then tilts her chin for the top of the alley at the new voice. The blue eyes of her squints slightly. She grinds the back of her teeth, swallowing back some choice words before she gives a bob of her head to Shannon. "That sounds fine. Since you two know each other, you keep watch while Cloak and I investigate. We will teleport to the back and stick to the shadows." She hesitates, then takes one of the sticky bugs and attaches it on her shoulder. She gives it a gentle tap to make sure it's working, then steps into the folds of Cloak's darkness. "Let's go." 

:'''{{#var:9571|Tyrone Johnson (9571)}} has posed:''' "You said it yourself, something foul is afoot." Cloak says to Dagger, with no intentional pun intended. He turns his hooded eyes onto Ami as she comes into proper view and talking range. "Fine. Take the front, go in first. They may be taken off guard then by just one. We'll come in from the rear." He holds his position as Cloak hooks up the microphone, though ideally it doesn't lapse too far inside that cloak and get cut off. "As for you," He says to Shannon. "You alone seem to know this ally. Stay behind Dagger and I. If things go sour, get out and alert your own." 

:'''{{#var:8765|Shannon (8765)}} has posed:'''      "Who? They only call themselves the Oracle. Where?" Shannon purses her lips, glancing down at her phone, turning the screen towards Cloak and Dagger to show them the messages she's been sent. "I'd guess in immediate line of sight, because I sure don't know anyone by that handle."      Well, at least if she went in with Cloak and Dagger, it seemed there was someone on the outside keeping an eye on things. Good. She didn't know who this 'Oracle' was, or how trustworthy they were, but if there was a time they were going to prove themselves, this would be it. At least she could be relatively certain of Cloak and Dagger.      And also relatively certain, it would seem, of Ami. She pulls the little Bluetooth headset from her little brown leather bag, that seemed to be perpetually at her side, and fits it to her ear. "If you can tap into this," she murmurs to Ami. "I'll keep an ear out for you. But these two may need me in there."      Turning back to Cloak, she nods, staying close behind and in range of the safety of his cloak. "It'll take some explaining but so be it. Let's roll." 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     Cobblepot starts to object, but then is given a hard stare by the Shredder. "You will give over all of your resources, and then you will be allowed to keep them once the city is mine. Until then, you will be my willing servant, since as a partner I have been displeased." He turns away. As he does, Karai steps forward.     "What? You can't do-" Oswald was cut off as Karai catches him by the back of the neck. "See here girl, you unhand me, you should know better than to act out in front of your elders." She starts to take him to the back door, and as she opens it, she throws him out in the direction of his now empty car. Of course, she didn't know there would be people outside, either. 

:'''{{#var:9531|Ami Han (9531)}} has posed:''' Ami Han eyes Shannon pull out the widget, then chuckles. "Bluetooth? Havn't thought of that. Yea, just presss coupling once..." she asks of the teen, scanning for the earpiece with a few presses on the wrist. Which would kind of start to set up a rather unsecured ad-hoc network from the bugs to her and then back to Shannon... probably with enough open loops to light up like a christmastree. "Ok, I take the front. T minus 2, then it's go for you." With the little note abut timing, Ami just jumps up onto the restaurant to get to the other side. Sure, she was fast, but she wanted a coordinated strike, have about 30, 40 seconds front assault, then the others join in the back... 

:'''{{#var:58|Barbara Gordon (58)}} has posed:''' Babs is listening in on the earpiece too. "I'm Oracle and I am listening in to help you" she begins, then falls quiet. She's figuring out he best spot to watch from, and get a good read on the group as they go in. The joys of being Oracle. Yay. Babs is moving the camera around as she's satisfied with the view and nods to herself. "I've a view on where you're going, if you need me to scout ahead just say the word" she offers. 
}}

11851/The Girl and the Wolf

2020-07-28T18:43:07Z

GodsKnite: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2020/07/28 |Location=Cafe - Greenwich Village |Synopsis=Andrea meets Mason...wait, that's not Mason. |Cast of Characters=1790,9637 |pretty=yes }} {..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2020/07/28
|Location=Cafe - Greenwich Village
|Synopsis=Andrea meets Mason...wait, that's not Mason.
|Cast of Characters=1790,9637
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:1790|Andrea (1790)}} has posed:''' It's a beautiful morning in Greenwich and Andrea has decided to hit up the local cafe down the street from her home for brakfast. She slept in a bit after a long night of work for her upcoming concert. Of course, she has to go back in later today for more rounds of dancing and wardrobe, but for now, she's going to fill an empty stomach. After putting in an order for some crossaint breakfast sandwiches and a large coffee, she heads over to a table to sit by herself, taking her phone out to attend to the constant buzzing. Her album has positive early reviews and the closer it gets to launch date, the more of a media frenzy it is becoming. The third album is either the make or break album in an artist's career. Tucking into her food, she eats as she scrolls her finger along the glass, at times using her fingertip to send out a response quickly, or hit a 'like' button for a fan. 

:'''{{#var:9637|The Straw Man (9637)}} has posed:'''     "Busy bee," comes the familiar voice over her shoulder. It's Mason. Hands reach up to massage her shoulders from behind. "Such dedication. Pouring over reviews. Not that they get you anyway, but image is what it's all about, right?" 

:'''{{#var:1790|Andrea (1790)}} has posed:''' So lost in her phone, Andrea almost doesn't hear the voice, that is until she feels the hands on the back of her shoulders. She nearly jumps out of her skin, eyes widening before she turns around to face him. "Mason! Hey. Wow. How is Juliard's going?" She asks as she rises upwards, stepping in to give him a quick hug. "So far the reviews have been mixed to positive. It's definitely a bit more adult theme of an album. Trying out some new styles. A little retro throwback to the eighties. Electric beats. Something to get the blood pumpiing. But, hey, who cares about that. How are /you/ doing?" 

:'''{{#var:9637|The Straw Man (9637)}} has posed:'''     The more important question. Why is he not wearing a shirt? His chiseled body seems to be on display in the coffee shop for all to see, wearing only a pair of cargo shorts, but not a soul is looking his direction other than Andrea. "Oh, I'm sure it's all doing well. Adult themed, huh? Going the whole Miley Cyrus route, are we? I'm sure that would solidify your fanbase. Dirty old men love that stuff." He returns the hug. Something's different about it. It's not like a hug that he would have normally given, much more like a hug though that would be wanted. 

:'''{{#var:1790|Andrea (1790)}} has posed:''' "More like music that isn't bubble gum pop or sugar coated lyrics. This is more about real life. Struggles. Pain. My battle with depression and the events that shaped me into who I am today." Andrea says as her eyes give a glance down along his body, then back up to him. ".. Did you lose your shirt or something?" She asks, giving a glance to the counter as it appears no one is making a fuss, then back to him. ".. They kinda got a policy about clothes. You on the way to .. a .. modeling gig or something?" 

:'''{{#var:9637|The Straw Man (9637)}} has posed:'''     "What? I thought you liked this," he says, hands motioning to his torso. He pulls out a chair, and sits down casually. "Pain certainly is marketable, isn't it? Probably best to schedule a personal crisis every couple of years to keep things fresh." Clearly not the kind of statement Mason would make. He tilts the chair backward carelessly on two legs. "But keeping the balance between the crimefighting and rockstar life. Sleep must be less important to you, huh?" he asks, that smug grin that he always wore clear on his face, his fingers locking behind his head, elbows out. The barista glances in Andrea's direction with a slightly confused look, but then she just looks back to her work. 

:'''{{#var:1790|Andrea (1790)}} has posed:''' "Yeah, I don't do the crime fighting thing since I graduated. I got accepted to NYU and I'm working on my degree now in Production, while focusing on my career." Andrea said once she takes a seat again, propping her chin up in the palm of her hand. She studies him for a moment, then leans forward slowly, her voice dropping. "Hey, are you doing okay? You showing up without a shirt on is kinda weird, and .. something just feels off." She says as she gives a small 'sniff' at the air before leaning back. ".. Hey, how is the.. other stuff, you know... the rocks. You okay there? Still having any side effects?" 

:'''{{#var:9637|The Straw Man (9637)}} has posed:'''     "That's probably good, isn't it? I mean, you have to choose between saving people and making real money. Probably the best choice." As if Mason had any room to talk in that department. He'd always been too much of a coward to put his life on the line. "So what exactly do you think is off? My commentary or my personality? I'll give you a hint, it's not both." A self-awareness of the shift? Most definitely a strange thing for Mason, and there's a shamelessness in the declaration, as if it's amusing more than embarrassing. 

:'''{{#var:1790|Andrea (1790)}} has posed:''' Furrowing her brows, Andrea squints at him. "You realize I can still kick your ass right?" She says as she picks up her coffee, shifting it to the left hand before taking a sip. "You're just acting weird, that's all. I mean, shirtless in the middle of a cafe is weird because even though you like attention, you don't like /that/ type of attention unless it'd benefit you. You also are digging a bit 'too' deep on me when I know for a fact you'd normally be reserved." She gives another 'sniff' in his direction. "So what's up? Why are you acting like this? Did I piss you off or something?" 

:'''{{#var:9637|The Straw Man (9637)}} has posed:'''     The sniff seemed normal the first time, but this time...it doesn't. It's not that it's a strange scent, there's just no scent at all.     There is a mock frown, "No, I'm certainly not mad at all," he says, continuing to precariously tilt back in the chair, using his foot against the bottom of the table's edge in order to keep it stable. "I do find that it's usually easier to talk to people when it's a familiar face. You called me here, so don't look to me for a motivation." He raises a finger in the air. "You know, a lot of people ask that question," he notes aloud. "But I'm sure you'll know soon enough why you need me." 

:'''{{#var:1790|Andrea (1790)}} has posed:''' "Okay, if you're not mad, then why the fuck are you needling me then?" Andrea asks as her voice hitches up an octave. People are glancing over now as she huffs at an empty chair next to her. "What are you .. even talking about? When it's a familiar face? I didn't call you here.. I.." She gives a long pause, then leans back some. "You aren't Mason?" She asks as she gives a glance about the room, then back to him. Her hand slides along her phone, plucking it up, then holds it in front of her to snap a picture of him. "Who /are/ you?" 

:'''{{#var:9637|The Straw Man (9637)}} has posed:'''     "Well, I'm whoever you need," Mason...not Mason, comments. He smiles for the picture. "Very post-millenial of you. I do love your generation." He seems unconcerned. The picture looks fairly normal. Of course, later when she looks back at it, it will be of an empty seat in the cafe, or perhaps she won't find it at all. "It's not really a question of /who/ I am, it's more a question of /why/ I am. It's much like children, I think." He drifts, as if considering something. "You know, children have imaginary friends. They interact with them as if they are real. They aren't, of course. They are just a manifestation of their need for conversation, all sorts of fancy psychological studies can disagree with the motivation behind it." He waves his hand dismissively, as if that part didn't really matter much.     "You know, children see monsters as well. Until we explain that we don't /see/ monsters, that is. We're civilized after all. Of course we're all sure they are still there. Huge ones, as big as you can make or suppress them in your mind. You might think of me as a lion tamer of sorts. I'm here to parade your monsters before you. Expose them for what they are. Show you their tricks as I dangle a kitchen chair before them flamboyantly." 

:'''{{#var:1790|Andrea (1790)}} has posed:''' "I have fought monsters before and I have the scars to show for it. Mason was never a monster. He was my best friend, my world, and my greatest regret. But he was never a monster. Also, put a damn shirt on, magical make believe .. thing. It's distracting." Andrea says as she leans back some in the chair, glancing down at her phone. She takes a screen shot as well, then puts it to the side, face up. "And I still love him. I'd do anything to protect him and he knows that, even with the distance between us. All he'd have to do is pick up the phone and call and I'd be there. That's what friends do for each other. So what are you really parading in front of me? His sweet abs? His sarcastic personality?" 

:'''{{#var:9637|The Straw Man (9637)}} has posed:'''     "Not all monsters come with tooth and nail. See, I'm a neighbor, and it's only neighborly that I visit. You see, where you come from, it's like little sand castles on the beach, and where I come from, it's the waves beneath. The real influence. /I/ have seen monsters," he says, the chair dropping down to four feet, and he leans in close enough that his breath can be felt on her cheek. There's a gravity to his statement. "They aren't like the monsters on the beach." He pauses for effect, locking those blue eyes on hers.     "For instance, in this land I come from...we have a wolf. Unlike any wolf you'd find in the dark forest or under the blue sky, or in a penthouse. This wolf likes to walk on ceilings at night. Likes to stare down at you. She can come from nowhere like the Big Bad Breath of another planet. All things blow aside in her path." His voice becomes staccato as he intensifies the description. "She has no concept of how a wall, or the door to a house is meant to keep her separate from us. She cares not if it is a house of straw, sticks, or bricks. And she can speak. Oh yes, full speeches dripping with honey sticky enough to trap the most agile of flies. And she can tell you. Tell you that what you see-Out here-As a wolf is the bare tip of what a wolf can truly be. And where this wolf comes from, a day is like a thousand years. You'll nary find a brick that can stand more than a day or two like that. I think you've heard her, all her nimble words as she prowls outside your door, just waiting for you to fall asleep."     He leans back, and the carefree Mason demeanor melts over the gravity like hot fudge on ice cream. "But, there's not so much to worry about, I think. Like I said, we're neighbors. We share the same dark forest. The same blue sky. And as I mentioned, I'm a friend." 

:'''{{#var:1790|Andrea (1790)}} has posed:''' "I don't think you can afford the mortgage payments to be my neighbor." Andrea hisses back at him with anger rising in her voice. "Take off his face. Stop looking like him. It's disrespectful." Her voice is growing quieter now, rumbling out with a growl. The more he talks, the more she starts to look as if she may panic. "Rage isn't real." She whispers out to him. "She was a figment of my imagination from a traumatic experience. I'm fixed now. I'm not crazy. You aren't even real." But she can feel his breath. That's real enough. Pushing herself up to her feet quickly, she almost stumbles over her chair as she snatches up her phone. "Just leave me alone!" There is now whispered murmurs about the cafe as people hold their phones up, but she is so laser focused on the empty chair. 

:'''{{#var:9637|The Straw Man (9637)}} has posed:'''     And just like that, as she stands up, he's gone. Not in a pop of magic, or in a simple visual. It's as if the moment that a daydream snaps one back to reality, and it's realized that it never happened. All in the mind. Just an empty chair. Just a regular cafe. Just a number of strangers giving a curious stare at a celebrity who seems to be acting a little odd. It's that moment when a person may not be sure how much they actually said outloud, and how much would have been the appearance of someone lost in their own thoughts. It's hard to say, but whatever it was, it's gone now.     Never did happen. 

:'''{{#var:1790|Andrea (1790)}} has posed:''' Giving a shake of her head, Andrea stares at the empty seat for a long moment, then pulls her phone a bit tighter against her chest. She gives a look around at her audience, then lets out a soft breath, tapping the side of her head. "Bluetooth. Sorry guys. Was arguing with a friend." With that, she ducks her head and starts out the door quickly, glancing down at her phone again at the picture she took, and the screenshot. Will he still be there? The image of Mason? 
}}

11804/Setting the Handicap

2020-07-20T18:38:10Z

GodsKnite: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2020/07/20 |Location=Foot Operations, East Warehouse |Synopsis=Tyler is taught to defend himself with out the aid of his powers. |Cast of Character..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2020/07/20
|Location=Foot Operations, East Warehouse
|Synopsis=Tyler is taught to defend himself with out the aid of his powers.
|Cast of Characters=1233,1792
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     Tyler's powers have definitely been an advantage as he learns more about the way of the ninja. Normal humans need a good deal of skill and strategy to be able to beat him. His contemporaries have neither.     Which is why this evening, Tyler has been asked to come back to the office tower, to the dojo that is the master's office, along with Jennika, one of the Foot Assassins. She's one of the most elite of Shredder's warriors, and it might be best not to ask how many kills she has under her belt. She sits crosslegged, and the Shredder stands waiting with a young boy next to him. He wears no mask tonight, his face visible, but the sight of the boy is one far more worthy of note. He looks like some sort of alien. An elongated green skull and red eyes, almost as if he is something of a horror flick. The Shredder's hand rests on his shoulder. "James, it is good that you are here tonight," he says. "Your abilities will help strengthen our family." 

:'''{{#var:1792|Tyler Grant (1792)}} has posed:''' When Tyler enters the master's personal dojo he does so after taking all the appropriate steps so he can demonstrate his respect for the room and for Shredder himself. Once inside he bows to Saki and says, "Master." The boy is given a glance as well, and a polite nod of the head. Another nod for Jennika. There's evidence of curiosity, Tyler's face showing his surprise at what he sees. But he seems determined nevertheless, ready for whatever may come next. At least he thinks he's ready. 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     Saki nods as Tyler joins the room.     "Daisuke, you have done well with your training. You have surpassed many of your peers. I even expect that you could match some of our upper level ninjas. But your training is not yet complete. You are handicapped, and you currently cannot reach your full potential. This needs to be rectified before you can be added to our ranks." Jennika does not move, sitting in her place like a statue, the buzzed blonde hair making her almost look like one of those buddha statues people place in their yards. 

:'''{{#var:1792|Tyler Grant (1792)}} has posed:''' "I am ready for whatever you would like to teach me, master," Tyler replies, though he twitches a little bit and his eyes scan over the little kid and the elite ninja. He does sound rather sure of himself, however, clearly confident in his abilities. There's still a twinge of unease at the child being present, however. 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     "You have been handicapped by your mutant power," Saki explains. "You expect it to rescue you from mistakes, and compensate for a lack of strategy with speed," he says. "You have perhaps heard rumor that there are those working on a 'mutant cure'," he says. "Not only this, but there have arrived in the world great robots which are able to respond to mutant abilities. These put you at a disadvantage to a normal person." He indicates to the strange young boy. "This is James. He is one of many mutants who rely on the Foot clan for protection. He has a unique ability to neutralize mutant powers. Tonight, you will learn to fight without your advanced reflexes." 

:'''{{#var:1792|Tyler Grant (1792)}} has posed:''' Tyler's eyes widen when he hears what he'll be doing tonight. There's a twitch and a deep breath as he focuses on what he needs to do. His own level of skill means he knows he's not a joke in a fight, but how will he fare without the powers he's used to? It's time to find out, "Understood, master." Another twitch and a gulp in his throat, "I look forward to the new challenge. And to being ready for anything." 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     Jennika stands up. She's about 5'7", not too terribly tall, and takes her place on the mat.     "Jennika is one of my fiercest assassins." The title is known well in the Foot. They are the ones that are usually sent if the Turtles are likely to show up, because they are on par with the scaly reptiles.     "We will see if you are ready for anything."     The assassin takes her stance, unarmed. 

:'''{{#var:1792|Tyler Grant (1792)}} has posed:''' "Yes master," Tyler says to the Shredder as he moves to stand across from Jennika, getting ready to see what he can do to take down the assassin. As she takes her stance he does the same, bouncing lightly on the balls of his feet in preparation for the encounter. Knowing how to initiate combat is part of being a trained fighter and Tyler's been at it for years. Still, his head twitches before he begins, then he leads in with a low kick towards his opponent's leg, actually showing surprise on his face when he notices how slow it is this time. It appears this training will be quite valuable for him. 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     Jennika's leg snaps up, foot catching the kick in the arch of her foot, and then thrusts back down to force Twitch to either drop himself to the ground, or break his anckle. She arches one brow, but makes no comment to taunt or tease.     "You now have the speed of your average person," Shredder explains. You must deliver with greater force and decisiveness. Jennika's speed has been honed to respond to those who have greater power than she does, and she has become a powerful weapon because she trained from a position that is weaker instead of more powerful. That has made her strong." 

:'''{{#var:1792|Tyler Grant (1792)}} has posed:''' Tyler finds himself on the ground soon enough, but moves as quickly as he can to get back to his feet. He's not used to this, certainly, and finds that he's frowning deeply. Rather than try the same type of attack on his opponent Twitch considers his options for a moment, knowing he'll need to use strategy and trickery to be effective against the assassin. Against Jennika he has doubts that his greater size will be benefit him, but he doesn't want to let her know that he realizes it. So he lifts his hands and starts to box, trying to jab as quickly as he can towards her face. But he's listened to Master Saki's instruction as well, force and decisiveness, the jab is just a feint so he can bring his long legs back into action, aiming as powerful a knee strike as he can muster towards his opponent's chest. 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     The feight works, and the knee connects. The victory is short lived, however, as Jennika's recoil is a finger strike toward the ribs followed by a punch aimed at the sternum. Neither are lethal should they land, but both would hurt. 

:'''{{#var:1792|Tyler Grant (1792)}} has posed:''' Reacting as quickly as he can, which isn't that fast, Tyler is able to cover up and avoid the first strike, but that nasty punch connects and he finds himself falling back, suddenly out of wind. Breathing deeply, he sucks air into his lungs and nods his head up and down to try to get control over himself again. Even before he's breathing normally he's returning to the fight, ready to try something new. The young guy is wise enough to understand that he might not be able to do the same thing more than once to the experienced ninja he's facing. Blocking the best that he can he launches a spin kick towards the head, hoping for a dodge from Jennika. This time he's trying to take the fight to the ground, where his jiu jitsu training may give him the edge, so he's prepared to shoot low as soon as he's through the spin. That is if he doesn't get his ass handed to him first. 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     "You find that it is harder when your reflexes are not enhanced," Shredder says. "But your body can still perform, you must train your mind to have the responses. It is not simply your body's whim to direct your reactions."     The young mutant winces a little from the strike. It doesn't seem that he's a fighter himself.     Jennika does dodge, and likewise goes for the same takedown maneuver, causing them to collide. Tyler has slightly superior weight, though, giving him the advantage in the draw of a move. 

:'''{{#var:1792|Tyler Grant (1792)}} has posed:''' As he collides with Jennika Tyler starts focusing on his grappling, trying to plan moves ahead of his opponent. He starts by going even lower, trying to grab the back of her knee to take her off of her feet. When it comes to grappling his powers were less of an advantage than in a stand up fight, so he's already got a better mindset for the lack of powers he's dealing with now. If he can hook her knee he'll try to bring her down, trying to use his leverage, his height and weight, to get Jennika's leg under his control. 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     Jennika goes to the ground on her back, but she doesn't take the opportunity to counter-grapple. She's a killer, she kills. She instead grabs for Tyler's head, clenching it against her body as her other hand jabs up at the pressure point beneath the right ear, attempting to cause enough pain to cause him to recoil from her all together. 

:'''{{#var:1792|Tyler Grant (1792)}} has posed:''' As pain lances through Tyler he lets go with arms for a split second, but doesn't relent. Twisting his head from side to side to try to get loose from Jennika's grasp he rears backwards, trying to life her off of the ground so that he can slam her back down. Then it's all about trying to strike while he's got the advantage of being on top. Fists and elbows fly, sure and strong. He doesn't realize it but he's yelling now, the pain, and the frustration of it causing him to lose his grip, has him bellowing as he lashes out with controlled blows. 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     Jennika lets out an oof as she's slammed on the ground. She tucks into a defense, fists bludgeoning her arms and knuckles, weathering the strikes until the grip is loose enough. She uses her years of skill to take advantage of the frustration, and suddenly a catch to one hand, then a catch to another. She kicks herself in a slide out from under him so that he ends up on his belly, and pulls his arms across each other before landing her legs across his back. A rather awkward but effective pin due to the muscle position.     "Enough," Shredder says. "James here and Jennika will be training with you once a week unless Jennika is on mission. I expect that you will soon remedy this weakness. You have made an excellent start, you are thinking of what you can do to compensate for your weakness. Soon you will not have the weakness at all." 

:'''{{#var:1792|Tyler Grant (1792)}} has posed:''' "Yes, Master Shredder," Tyler says with a nod of his head. There's almost a smile on his face as he says, "Thank you, Jennika. I look forward to training with you. Thanks, James. Helping me get stronger and less reliant on my mutant abilities." It has certainly be an instructive day for Twitch, being forced to fight an opponent with superior skill without his powers for the first time in his life. "I'm looking forward to when I can take care of anybody I need to, powers or no." 
}}

11755/Oh Mercy Me!

2020-07-10T18:33:43Z

GodsKnite: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2020/07/10 |Location=Mercy's Garage - West Harlem |Synopsis=Mercy gets a visit from her past who asks questions about her future. |Cast of Characte..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2020/07/10
|Location=Mercy's Garage - West Harlem
|Synopsis=Mercy gets a visit from her past who asks questions about her future.
|Cast of Characters=99,9637
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:99|Mercy Thompson (99)}} has posed:''' The sound of torque wrenches can be heard from the street. Mercy's taking wheels off of an Opel GT that is. It's leaking enough oil to class as its own oil slick and Mercy's got enough rags and sand on the floor to mop it up. If she feels like it, break out the bucket and spade and start building sandcastles, Miss Mercy... The Opel GT's quit bleeding out as Mercy crawls out from under it tugging the transmission jack. The thunk that's heard is its own reward, the scattering of parts less so. Using the sort of words Mercy saves for afterrmarket, poorly bolted on parts, Mercy's gathering up bits of rebadged Corvette transmission and has a fine task on her hands. 

:'''{{#var:9637|The Straw Man (9637)}} has posed:'''     A second thunk is heard, one much more like the closing of a car door. Kneading the steering wheel, in the flesh, is Bryan. He looks like he did the last day Mercy saw him, sizing up the dashboard of the Opel like a piece of meat. "Always did like these," he admits. "Lucky customer, whoever this is for. They guzzle gas, only two seats, shit for trunk space, and take up far more space parking than necessary. Expensive. But doesn't everyone still want one?" He only then casts a glance in Mercy's direction. "How's it goin' pup?" 

:'''{{#var:99|Mercy Thompson (99)}} has posed:''' "It's got a Buick badge" Mercy offers then turns to see who she is talking to and freezes. No. No way that....no. Her foster father. No way he's here. He died. He drowned himself! Mercy has a wrench in hand as it clatters to the floor. Good thing for those boots, too. Gravity grabs the wrench. Mercy's looking wide eyed and worriedd. She knows where her guns are, and where her pendant is. Maybe she just didn't get enoug sleep and is seeing things? No, no....she had coffee earlier so... 

:'''{{#var:9637|The Straw Man (9637)}} has posed:'''     If Bryan notices her panic, it isn't very clear. "No good for a pup to let a cat get her tongue," he says, checking to see if the engine will turn over despite the clatter that was heard when she dropped it back down. "So your very own garage, right in the big apple. Never figured you to be a city kid." 

:'''{{#var:99|Mercy Thompson (99)}} has posed:''' "I am not a pup" Mercy growls, "I came here because it was either here or Portland, and there's more oportunity here. I'm only a city girl because I can't find anyone willing to put my garage on a nice bit of land where I can run" she spits out, still uneasy at the sight of her long dead foster father. Then it hits her. "Why are you here? You died. I grieved for you!" she says. Whoever is playing tricks on her? They are certainly winning. "Were you sent by my father?" she asks, half belieiving this is one of Coyote's tricks. Maybe it is....though she's frozen in place too. Mercy's mind is in freefall thinking back to Montana and the pack, her foster father who is, oh yeah, sitting right there in that Opel GT... 

:'''{{#var:9637|The Straw Man (9637)}} has posed:'''     "Coyote? You really think I'd do his bidding?" Bryan asks. He leans out the window, arm hanging as if he was driving down the road with his hair in the wind. "I'm dead. How would I do that anyway? Believing in ghosts now?" His argument suggests a counter to his very presence, but still here he is. "You sure do put a lot of stock in Old Joe. Maybe too much. I just came by to give a friendly hello, thought you'd be happier about that. But maybe I should go if it bothers you." 

:'''{{#var:99|Mercy Thompson (99)}} has posed:''' "Wouldn't put it past you" Mercy says and looks a little more at ease. "You...you're dead though. How....did you come back from the dead just to poke around the garage and compliment me on paying Harlem rents?" she wonders. "If you want to contribute with that...I'm all ears" Mercy mutters and bends down to grab the wrench off the floor where it fell. "You could have let me know you were dropping by. I'd have baked cookies" Mercy offers with enough sarcasm to drown in. 

:'''{{#var:9637|The Straw Man (9637)}} has posed:'''     "Cookies would be nice," he admits. "But really, I think the question of why I am here has more to do with why you brought me here than someone else. You put a lot on Old Joe Coyote, you're his daughter perhaps more than you like to admit." He opens the door, casually exiting the vehicle and closing it behind him. "I taught you guns and self-defense. I gave you tools, but you want to pretend that you're fit for a mundane life. Working on cars. It's not what you were made for, though, is it? You keep finding yourself in most interesting situations. Far more than most people. Ever wonder why that is?" 

:'''{{#var:99|Mercy Thompson (99)}} has posed:''' "I put those tools to use breaking up an animal smuggling ring" Mercy says defensively. See, he's right. Mercy has tools. Mercy also walks a line between mundane and supernatural too. "You weren't the only one to give me tools" she points out, closing the distance betweeen them. "How about those cookies?" Mercy adds. Maybe she can kill him with sugar overload? That'd be twice he's dead now? Mercy's torn. On the one hand...she's unnerved to see him. On the other? She's treating him like a ghost. "So, what tools?" she asks and watches him carefullly. She'll get to the Joe Old Coyote bit once she's had time to think on that one. 

:'''{{#var:9637|The Straw Man (9637)}} has posed:'''     "Vigilante, superhero, whatever the title you like. You are stronger than most. You have divine blood, but you go around acting like a hero for hire. They all die. It's really quite noble of you. A demi-god that looks out for the little guy." He seems to be considering something. "Does it give you the completion you are looking for?" 

:'''{{#var:99|Mercy Thompson (99)}} has posed:''' Mercy's quiet, thinking on this for a moment. "You gave me tools. Yoou and Joe Old Coyote did not give me guidance or strict rules on what to use them for" Mercy begins. "As for the bull rider from Browning, Montana..." Mercy says with a quiet look in her eyes. "I put stock in those I trust. You for example" Mercy says. "You call it noble. I call it extra income because Harlem rents are not cheap, but not as bad as Manhattan prices" Mercy admits. She moves to the tool chest and puts the wrench away. Well that's one less thing to beat the car with. "Does runnning around give me satisfaction? No. I miss Montana. I miss the wide open spaces. I want to be able to run, chase small little fuzzy things, not be trapped in a city" There it is. Mercy's opening up 

:'''{{#var:9637|The Straw Man (9637)}} has posed:'''     "But..." Bryan says, following Mercy as she puts away the wrench and leaning against the metal storage unit. "You don't go back there." He pushes off again. "A spot like this would sell well, get you back to Oregon, get you a nice piece of land where you can chase squirrels and rabbits to your heart's content. But you stay." 

:'''{{#var:99|Mercy Thompson (99)}} has posed:''' "Because" Mercy adds folding her arms. "What's there in Oregon or Washington or even Montana?" Mercy asks folding her arms. If he's going to challenge her thinking...she'll give it right back. "So let's say I pack up, sell this building then what, I go on the road, end up in Oregon or Idaho or somewhere..." Mercy says. "How soon before I get bored and need something to do besides chase rabbits and mice and work on cars?" Mercy's got a point. She'd just get bored. "Okay fine, less Oregon, more upstate New York, more near the Adirondacks and Catskills, right? You don't think I should be in the city?" Mercy adds, nudging the door to her living area open as she retrieves cookies. "Why?I can look out for the little guy easier in a city" With that said she chews on a cookie and is deep im thought 

:'''{{#var:9637|The Straw Man (9637)}} has posed:'''     Bryan shrugs, "Hey, do what you want," he says. "I'm just not sure what that is. How long until you get bored looking out for the little guy?" He wanders to the work bench, idly picking up a pair of needle nose pliers, opening them, and then dancing them across the surface of the bench. "You're the one who called me here, or haven't you quite realized that yet? I'm just here as a sort of guide." He smiles suddenly. "Like a life coach. Are you getting what you really want out of your life?" 

:'''{{#var:99|Mercy Thompson (99)}} has posed:''' That is a hard question for Mercy to answer, really. She's torn on what she wants...Mercy pauses and chews on a cookie more. Then she snorts at the life coach bit just about spitting her cookie out laughing. "Don't you come in here with a stopwatch in hand, one of those sweat bands and yoga pants" Mercy adds looking just a little worried. "I.....don't know what I want for my life" she admits, though the phone in her office rings. Glancing to it, Mercy's already moving as she finishes her cookie. "Bryan" Mercy says. "When did you get a life coach job? I am in the wrong career..." she sighs. "But I need to see who is calling my shop" 

:'''{{#var:9637|The Straw Man (9637)}} has posed:'''     There's a knowing smile. "Well, you think about it," he suggests. "I'll touch base with you later." He steps aside, motioning in the direction of the office phone as if some sort of professional valet. Of course, when she passes, that's the last he is seen. The shop is empty, the pliers are right where Mercy left them, and things are normal once again. Like it never happened. 
}}

11735/The Greatest Weapon

2020-07-08T15:17:51Z

GodsKnite: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2020/07/07 |Location=Foot Operations, East Warehouse |Synopsis=Tyler learns of the weapons of shinobi. |Cast of Characters=1233,1792 |pretty=yes }}..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2020/07/07
|Location=Foot Operations, East Warehouse
|Synopsis=Tyler learns of the weapons of shinobi.
|Cast of Characters=1233,1792
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''      The dojo is filled with the clanging of blades, exhultations of energy as the Foot practice, honing their skills. Some of them are working on vaulting. Others spar, and still others are balancing, holding water jars or poses as per their sifu's instructions.     The Shredder, however, has taken a particular interest in Tyler's training. Karai, the lovely yet calculating chuunin has done a good part of the training until now, teaching basics and form, but today, the master himself has called for Tyler to be trained personally. He doesn't sit on his throne now, but wears his intimidating armor. The spikes have been replaced, though, and in their place are metal bracers, and the pauldrons have been recused as well. His face remains covered, though it seems to be optional whether most training choose to wear their fukumen. 

:'''{{#var:1792|Tyler Grant (1792)}} has posed:''' As it is now time to train Tyler enters the dojo and looks around for a moment before spotting Master Shredder. He's hard to miss, even if his attire is not as sharp today as he usually is. The young man approaches the ninja master and bows deeply to him, "Master Shredder." Having been training with Karai a lot lately it's almost odd to be working with Saki again, but Tyler is doing his best to be as good a student as he can be and to follow any orders he's given to the letter. Life is easier for him that way. Standing still in front of the armored ninja, Tyler waits for instruction, his head twitching ever so slightly to the side. 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     The Shredder indicates the weapon rack along the wall. It's filled with traditionally expected weapons such as sais, nunchaku, katanas, and many strange weapons. Kusari-gama, komos, urumi, rope darts, and others. "Gakusei," Shredder says, the word for student being used. "You may have witnessed that ninja use a variety of weapons. Many find a favorite in which they desire to specialize. Today you will tell me which of these is the greatest weapon." 

:'''{{#var:1792|Tyler Grant (1792)}} has posed:''' "Yes Master," Tyler tells his instructor after taking a moment to study the weapons on the wall. He'd seen them all before, of course, but this is a test and it's one he'd much rather pass than fail. "I'm looking forward to becoming more knowledgeable and improving my capabilities as much as I can." 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     The Shredder goes through a rather patient explanation of each of the weapons, from the Tessen, often dipicted as a subversive woman's weapon, to the distracting shuriken. Each has strengths and advantages. "Gakusei, a ninja must choose his weapon carefully. What is the greatest of weapons that a ninja can possess...after his mind and body?" It's no secret that Shredder uses a variant of tekko-kagi claws and sword catching gauntlets, and by eliminating the traditional expected 'self and mind' answer, he sidesteps the philosophical element to a more pragmatic one. 

:'''{{#var:1792|Tyler Grant (1792)}} has posed:''' The question leaves Tyler considering things for some time, wanting to make sure he gets the answer correct. He looks over the weapons once more and finally, after another twitch, nods his head, "I believe that it would be something you could use to surprise your enemy. If he doesn't know you're a ninja and that you're armed you can get the drop on him and take him out before he realizes you're a threat." There's another momentary pause, "The knife or sai, because they can be concealed and brought to bear quickly." 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     "A correct line of thinking," the Shredder answers, "But ultimately, the correct answer is your enemy. They are your greatest weapon. The world around you, spirit and form, are all a weapon. Your body and mind are your most powerful weapons, and the instrument you choose before conflict has weight in combat. But your enemy will determine the effectiveness of that weapon."     The Shredder picks takes a kunai from the rack, and without warning flings it at Tyler. Of course, with his superior reflexes, not to mention training, it should not be too difficult to catch out of the air to prevent its strike. 

:'''{{#var:1792|Tyler Grant (1792)}} has posed:''' Snatching the kunai out of the air, Tyler immediately looks around the dojo to see if anything else is coming his way before focusing on Saki again, "Yes, Master Shredder." Then he looks at the weapon in his hand, thoughtfully, testing its balance a bit. His lips press tightly together in thought. It looks as though it's a weapon he can very much appreciate. "I feel like I should choose the weapon I'm most proficient with, but also the one that will give me the greatest advantage against what my opponent brings to bear." 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     "That kunai was an inneffective weapon against you," Shredder advises. "It did not use your capabilities against you. It played to your strengths. When you faced me in the office. I was able to witness quickly your superior speed and reflexes. I was also able to see your inexperience and reliance on speed over precision. You believed you struck a victorious blow against me at one point, when I was merely giving your frustration a momentary relief. By striking me, it created a momentary lack of focus, which was easily redirected. Your lack of focus was my weapon. Your joy was my blade that I used to strike you down, even though you have an evolutionary advantage over me. A weapon should always do this." He takes the tessen from the rack. "Defend yourself." He strikes again, this time with what many people would consider a 'girly weapon'. the fan opens, a fast slicing action, flicks of the wrist making it difficult, but not impossible to block.     But blocking is a trap, the block causes the blade to fold, flip around and in a more compact batonlike form, slaps the inside of the bicep. A few more similar illustrations come, making it clear that the only defense is to retreat from striking distance. They are hardly mortal blows, but they quite likely will leave bruises.     "You can play to your strengths, or compensate your weaknesses," Shredder says. "Most ninja carry a variety of weapons, regardless of their preferred choice." 

:'''{{#var:1792|Tyler Grant (1792)}} has posed:''' After being smacked a bit by his master's tessen Tyler steps back and bows, rubbing gently where he's been hit a few times before straightening up fully and giving further consideration to Saki's words. "It seems like there are so many weapons to choose from. I'd like to learn them all, but I should probably choose one or two to focus on above the others. Right now I think my greatest weakness is my inexperience, especially once weapons come into play." 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     The Shredder takes a pair of hook swords. "This is known as fu tao hu tou gou. Hook sword in English. They boast a great diversity." He takes the mat, and begins a demonstration. Some moves start out simple, moving to more complex, using the crecent blade edge, and even hooking them together to turn them into a much longer range weapon. "They can be used in a variety of ways," he illustrates before unhooking them and returning to a ready stance. He tosses them to Tyler. "I would recommend them to maximize your effectiveness, and in an urban setting, they provide an excellent way to utilize the city to your advantage." 

:'''{{#var:1792|Tyler Grant (1792)}} has posed:''' Catching the weapons out of the air, Tyler holds them up to examine them closely. A little smile appears on his face as he hefts them in his hands. "I think that these will suit me well, Master." The youth moves into the same ready stance that Shredder had just demonstrated, holding the matched weapons steady. While his head twitches slightly on his neck his smile remains in place. "These swords seem extremely versatile. I'm sure I'll be able to put them to effective use." 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     Shredder barks something in Japanese, and in response a strong, tall Russian man rushes to his side. "This is Sifu Yuri. He is one of the foremost experts in the New York branch regarding the Fu tao." The man bows.     "Yuri, you will teach Gakusei Tyler to use the fu tao." 

:'''{{#var:1792|Tyler Grant (1792)}} has posed:''' As Yuri bows, Tyler does so as well, "Sifu Yuri." Always pays to be polite, especially when life and death are on the line. "I look forward to learning from you." There's a twitch. "I will strive to master your teachings." 
}}

11707/Making the Choice

2020-07-01T17:11:11Z

GodsKnite: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2018/08/15 |Location=Foot Operations, East Warehouse |Synopsis=Tyler makes the choice of where he will put in his alliances. |Cast of Characters=17..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2018/08/15
|Location=Foot Operations, East Warehouse
|Synopsis=Tyler makes the choice of where he will put in his alliances.
|Cast of Characters=1792,1233
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:1792|Tyler Grant (1792)}} has posed:''' With so much to think about, Master Saki's training and conditioning, his family's safety, his desire to do more for himself and other people... Tyler has made a choice about how to move forward with his life. He's shown up at the address he was given if he was ready to dedicate himself to something greater. The young mutant arrives at the warehouse, looking around hesitantly before he moves to enter. He's quite on edge, not knowing what to expect, as he approaches the door. 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     The door opens, and a large wolf-like creature appears on the other side A curious sniff. "Don't know you," comes the gruff response. "Who you?" He comes out the door, the sounds of music coming from inside He is tall, probably about seven feet, but has a certain demeanor about him that one might find in a small child. 

:'''{{#var:1792|Tyler Grant (1792)}} has posed:''' Well. There's a giant monster. Tyler very nearly darts before he gets himself under control enough to speak, "T-Tyler Grant." Yeah, he got his name out okay. "I was told to come here if I was ready to make a change in my life." No idea if it's going to get through to the huge beast, but as long as it's talking it's not doing any chomping. 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     "Hmm." He sniffs at your a few more times. "You smell like cheeseburgers. Hold on." He disappears back into the door, and his voice can be heard. "Karai! Karai man is here to see you." It is quiet for a few moments, he does not reappear. When the door opens again, a young Japanese woman is on the other side, the wolf standing by in the back. She's only about 5'3", but carries herself as if she could take on the world, a form fitting black outfit with a red scarf dons her lithe figure, black hair reaching down to be cut off at the base of her neck. She gives you a glance over. "Who sent you here?" she asks curtly. 

:'''{{#var:1792|Tyler Grant (1792)}} has posed:''' "Master Saki," Tyler replies to the young woman who addresses him, forcing himself to stand as still as he can. Unfortunately, he twitches, his head turning to the side rapidly before returning to face forwards. It is a stressful situation and the kid's powers and anxiety combine to make him jumpy as all get out. "He told me to come here if I was ready to make a commitment. I'm ready." 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     The name causes a certain widening of the eyes from the young woman. "I see. Come with me, and do not use that name again while you are here. You will refer to him as Master Shredder. She turns on her heels, leading back through the warehouse. It looks anything but a ninja hideout. Basketball, video games, an indoor skate park. Open bar, everythingn a delinquent teen could desire.     Karai walks past it all, only adjusting as a basketball comes flying at her head. She doesn't look as she stretches her hand out to catch it, then fling it back to the teens who were playing as she makes her way to a door on the other side of the structure. Her thumbprint approves her, and she walks down a set of concrete steps, which wind down to another door. Inside, a large area opens up, filled with shinobi practicing their arts. To the left is a stage, upon which is an iron throne. On the throne is a man clothed in blades, sitting casually, watching the proceedings, and apparently deep in thought. A black shinobi mask is under his samurai-esque helmet, and his attention immediately shifts upon Tyler and Karai's entrance. He doesn't get up, but Karai leads Tyler to the front of the stage. "Master Shredder," she bows formally. "This young man says that he was told to report to you." 

:'''{{#var:1792|Tyler Grant (1792)}} has posed:''' "Okay," Tyler replies when told to call his master by another name. As he gets into the warehouse his eyes go wide, trying to take in everything as he follows Karai through the building. Taking the stairs smoothly he twitches again, but it actually stops upon seeing the ninja practicing in front of him. As Karai leads him front and center he stays right beside her, bowing when she does, making sure to go just as deeply. He remains silent and struggles to resist another head twitch, recognizing the importance of this moment and the danger involved in being where he presently is. 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     "I am pleased to see you, Mr. Grant," the Shredder says. "It seems you are ready to become something more, to leave your old life behind?" he asks, not moving from his position, relaxed in a chair that looks decidedly uncomfortable. 

:'''{{#var:1792|Tyler Grant (1792)}} has posed:''' Taking a deep breath to steady his nerves and try to reduce his twitching, Tyler bows again and replies, "Yes, Master Shredder. I am ready." As he stands up straight again he looks at the crime lord upon his throne as steadily as he can. Focusing on something might help him resist his natural reflexes and giving his full attention to the most dangerous creature he's ever met, one that demands respect, can't hurt things. 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     Shredder nods, "Good. Then you will from this day obey the masters in this dojo. You will obey me. This is our family. Not one of blood, or one of nature. This family is stronger than blood, and stronger than biology. But remember what I told you of family."     It must be earned. 
}}

11707/Temp Title

2020-07-01T17:07:44Z

11672/A little Culture

2020-06-25T20:12:20Z

GodsKnite: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2020/06/25 |Location=Bushwick (Mutant Town), Brooklyn |Synopsis=Andrea spots Saki entering the Mutant Cultural Museum in Bushwick. |Cast of Charact..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2020/06/25
|Location=Bushwick (Mutant Town), Brooklyn
|Synopsis=Andrea spots Saki entering the Mutant Cultural Museum in Bushwick.
|Cast of Characters=1233,1790
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     It's threatening rain overhead, but the air is still warm and muggy as clouds roll in from the west. Still, business continues as it normally does in Mutant Town. Right now Oroku Saki is just heading in to the Bushwick Mutant History Museum for the second time in a month. Oroku Industries helped to establish the museum, and it is run primarily by volunteers. Many of the are members of "The Family" a mutant community group that looks out for the needs of the mutants in the area. Of course, there's rumors at this point that they have a darker side, but most mutants are happy to have them around all the same. 

:'''{{#var:1790|Andrea (1790)}} has posed:''' Making her way through mutant town is Andrea Jackson. She's dressed in a new windbreaker, a pair of skinny jeans and a swishy t-shirt beneath it. It looks like she may be on her way to obtain a coffee at the local cafe before heading over to Club Evolution. She is without her bodyguard this afternoon as he was assigned to another job earlier, and as a high school graduate, she is not really /needing/ the backup all the time either. As she passes the museum, she gives a glance over towards it curiously. 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     "Mr. Oroku!" A large, friendly man who is obviously a mutant gives a whildely big hug to the rather clean cut businessman as he reaches it. Rocky is a staple of the area, made famous when he took a bullet to save Dazzler from an attack in the same said coffee shop several months back. He won't shut up about it, either. He has spikes on shis shoulders, which accounts for why he wears a tank top. "Come to see the new exhibit?" he asks. He guides him into the door of the small museum, wedged between two other busiensses like so many other things in this area. 

:'''{{#var:1790|Andrea (1790)}} has posed:''' The name causes Andrea to pause. Why does that sound so familiar for? She turns her head to watch the man be led into the museum, brows furrowing. As her arms fold over her chest, she shifts her jaw to the side. Like a light bulb, she remembers. The memories flooding back to her. The blackmail. The Japanese man. Tyler. The blood. Her fingers curl into tight fists as her breathing picks up in her chest. Rage. Anger. Pushing off her foot, she follows after, keeping a bit of distance and pulling her sunglasses over her eyes. 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     While Saki does not show the same level of phsyical affection, he smiles politely. "Yes, I hear your construction team has done fine work," he tells Rocky. The museum is a tight space to be certain, but it is aptly located in the mutant community. Inside there are several displays and artifacts. A section dedicated to Magneto with a replica of his helmet. It talks about his life and how he has significantly improved the lives of mutants. A map of Genosha is on the wall beside a life size portrait. Another section discusses the nature of the X gene, explaining the known science behind why one gene manifests into several different types of powers.     Upstairs, which is where the new exhibit stands, reveals an interactive timeline that starts with the first known mutant back in Egypt, moving forward to the first influx of the mutant gene, the oppressions they've faced and the victories for their rights all the way up to the present day of 2028. It's currently playing through the presentation, lit up on the unknown nature of the middle ages and possible connections between mutants and claims of witches. 

:'''{{#var:1790|Andrea (1790)}} has posed:''' As she moves through the museum, Andrea plays the part of the normal, boring customer. She has a phone in her hands, holding it up in front of her as if focused on a text message. A few pictures is snapped, clicking here and there and trying to catch the Japanese man as well to review later. She gives a small sniff at the air at times, as if trying to catch a scent or two. Though her heightened senses are incredibly weak in this form, sometimes she gets lucky if she can push herself. Is it him? 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     While he seems an average business man, Saki is a very alert man. He isn't one a person sneaks around easily. He glances over his shoulder. "Oh, it seems you have another young mind eager to learn, here, Rocky," he says with a smile. It doesn't seem that he's immediately recognized Andrea with the glasses on.     Rocky turns, "Hey there, welcome to the Mutant Cultural Museum," he says in a friendly voice. He's really tall, probably about 6'8", and the tanned skin is ripped with muscles. "Do you have any questions while you're here?" he asks. 

:'''{{#var:1790|Andrea (1790)}} has posed:''' Keeping her head down, Andrea doesn't lift her eyes up to meet the other man. Though she has expensive shades on and longer bangs, she doesn't want to give away too much of her features. She shifts herself a bit to the side, continuing to tap away at her phone. "Nope." She says simply, adding a bit of 'valley' to her voice. Just another dumb girl. She starts to amble away, heading towards Magneto's display. She shifts her phone some so that the camera on it faces her, holding it just a bit at an angle to see past her shoulder. Just in case she is being followed. 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     Saki studies the evasive teen for a moment, and then looks back to Rocky. "It really is quite the display," he compliments. "I particularly enjoy the choices in color and lighting.     Rocky, on the other hand, calls out, "Well, if you need any help, feel free to ask!" He is one of those people who might look intimidating due to his build and height, not to mention mutations that are spikes on his shoulders, but his overtly friendly behavior can dissuade people. Probably something he's needed to practice to keep from scaring people. 

:'''{{#var:1790|Andrea (1790)}} has posed:''' Lifting her hand upwards, Andrea gives one of those over the shoulder waves. She's good. Really. She heads into the Magneto display, looking about as she reads some of the plaques. She at times, subtly, will glance over her shoulder towards the large Japanese man. After a few minutes of wandering, she starts making her way for the exit, tucking her phone into her pocket. She has a frown upon her face, hands sliding into her pockets, head ducked down. 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     The display finishes, and Saki with Rocky descend the steps, and Saki puts a crips $100 bill in the donation jar, still speaking as Andrea exits.     "Scared of being here," Rocky suspects aloud. "Lots of them like that, she's probably a mutant and hasn't told people yet," he nods to himself.     "Perhaps," Saki says, not contesting the matter as she walks out the door. He has his own suspicions, but he keeps them to himself.     "Perhaps." 
}}

11301/City Fall: Escalation

2020-04-06T20:54:49Z

GodsKnite: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2020/04/06 |Location=NYC: Judge Veers' Condo |Synopsis=Natasha talks with an ally within the civil government about ways to bring the Foot Clan's c..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2020/04/06
|Location=NYC: Judge Veers' Condo
|Synopsis=Natasha talks with an ally within the civil government about ways to bring the Foot Clan's control to an end.
|Cast of Characters=1233,1092
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     The weeks have gone long, the problem with long fights is that they tend to wear down the underdogs. Veers has definitely been the under dog. He sits in his study. He put an ad in the paper for The Shadow: I think we need to talk again, V.     The judge sits in his study, looking over the city. A gold coin sits on his desk in front of him. It isn't one of the coins the Foot gave out, but it is approximately the same size. This one is actually a plastic child's play thing. Who would have guessed that such a worthless trinket might be what keeps him alive. He's carried it about with him, careful to let the edges be seen by those he thinks might need to know he has a coin. His face looks tired. He was supposed to retire last year. That didn't happen. Instead, he has continued on, trying to find a way to keep his city from falling to the Foot. He's no superhero, he's just a civil servant dedicated to his city. He sits in a rather less formal T-shirt with a volunteer logo for the NYC Zoo, and a pair of jeans. 

:'''{{#var:1092|Natasha Cranston (1092)}} has posed:'''     One moment, Veers knows he's alone in his room. The next, he senses he isn't anymore -- and he hadn't heard a thing; no creak of door or floor, no rustle of fabric... But one of the shadows in the corner is less empty than it was a moment ago.     "You called for me?" comes the voice he recognizes, still not even remotely sounding like it could come from a human throat, but still less harsh and accusing than it was the first time they met, even if those blue eyes still blaze as unsettlingly... 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     There's a slight start. While he was expecting her, Veers still didn't expect that very moment to hear the Shadow's voice. After he settles himself, he answers. "Yes," Shadow," Veers says, "I've been hoping to hear that you've had some success on your end of trying to find the underbelly of this," he holds up the plastic coin, "whole thing. I suppose it is no mystery now that the Foot Clan is pulling the strings, given their antics at publicly declaring themselves the city's protectors and whatnot." He rubs his head. "I have to say, things do not look good from where I sit." 

:'''{{#var:1092|Natasha Cranston (1092)}} has posed:''' "... In truth, less than I had hoped to, but more than I'd expected," the Shadow replies. "The first phase of the Shredder's plan was to unite all crime under his rule, and deal publicly and harshly with those who declined his 'generous' offer to set himself up as a better protector of law and order than the actual law."     The Shadow lets out a brief chuckle. "Unfortunately for him he chose his front men very poorly when he tried to expand into Gotham. Gotham's gangs are a... Stubbornly independent breed, even compared to other cities. They have to be, to be willing to persist in a city of Bats. They did not take well to an out-of-towner making a bid for power, and the local lieutenants he selected had more ambition than charisma. I admit I pushed things along, but negotiations would have gone poorly in any event. And once he massacred the representatives of unconvinced gangs who'd come to /his/ proposed parley... He showed how little his word is worth. Even those of Gotham's gangs that were willing to bend knee are having second thoughts,... And forces required to keep them in check are fources he can't bring to bear elsewhere -- and several of New York's gangs are uniting against him."     The Shadow then sighs. "That is the extent of the good news, I fear. The next phase of his plan was an expansion of the Coins -- magical chess sets that work upon the will of the recipient, leaving them open to his suggestions... And they were sent to the well to do, the influencers and the aldermen. The next phase of his plan is a full-out takeover." 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     There is a frown from Judge Veers. "Thank you for that breakdown, I had not followed closely what was happening in Gotham, what with plenty on my plate here," he confesses. "I've noticed something about the way the Foot has influenced the civil sector. I don't see plays for a new mayor, or a new DA, or any of that sort of overhaul of power." He shrugs. "It's very quiet. There is an old story I used to hear as a parable of sorts," he explains. "Satan and his demons are wishing to bring more people to hell. Too many people are becoming Christians, you see," he waves his hand as he tells the story. "The first Demon says 'we should tell them there's no judgment', Satan tells them it won't work because in the human heart, they know there is judgment. The next tells him 'say this is more fun' but of course anyone who follows evil to its end can say quite definitively that the cost is too high. So that won't work either. But the last demon, he says "Tell them there is no hurry."     A finger lays aside Veers nose. "You see what I'm getting at. These ninjas, they have felt no need to have a point at which there is a dramatic reveal and their master takes a political office. They are content to allow things to quietly work in their favor, and there is an illusion of power in the government. People elect their officials, they feel they have a say. Meanwhile the nature of political shenannigans has created a machine that keeps the power very comfortably inside of the Foot's control. They have what they want at this point. All that is left is for them to wait and let time take its toll. It's the long game." 

:'''{{#var:1092|Natasha Cranston (1092)}} has posed:'''     The Shadow nods. "And at seventh and last, their leader is Onmitsu. It's in his nature to rule from the shadows rather than in the light."     "And while I can confront and thwart him there, it would only be a temporary measure; at best, others would flow into the vacuum created."     The Shadow's bulky coat and hat conceal most of their body language, but there is a distinct sense of reluctance at admitting to limitations. "If this infection is to be cut out it needs to be seared by light, not shadows. And my agents' capacity to act in the light is... Limited." 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     Veers nods. "Well, from where I sit, people like the shade. He's consistently kept the level of attention lower than what INTERPOL or SHIELD or any of the other organizations which are designed to stop this would deem a sufficient threat. The frog boils slowly." He sighs. "My term is ending soon. When it does, it's possible I would be replaced. Normally I would welcome that, but I'm not sure in this environment if I do. My wife has told me that I need to just let younger people take up the mantle. He gives half a smile. "I'm sure you've heard something like that before. You've been a folk legend since...the thirties? Forties?" he asks. Of course, he doesn't know that the mantle was already passed. "Perhaps I just have trouble trusting in the competence of others. Maybe I would make a good tyrannical overlord myself with that attitude." 

:'''{{#var:1092|Natasha Cranston (1092)}} has posed:'''     The responding chuckle comes out harsher than it probably is. "I've heard it said that the best rulers are those who most emphatically do not /wish/ to rule -- but whose conscience leaves them no other option. Then again, many bad rulers undoubtedly proclaim the same reluctance while they convince themselves that they have a duty to do what they already want to. Matters are rarely so simple as one might like."     They nod thoughtfully. "The Shredder is entirely too careful to be easily spooked into raising the temperature too much too quickly. If we want this to warrant higher attention, we will need to bring the matter to INTERPOL or SHIELD ourselves."     A pause, a narrowing of eyes as the figure considers options. "None of my contacts at Interpol have the level of access required to convince them to act... And matters are not yet dire enough to warrant burning my contact at SHIELD to get an audience at the highest level. Some favours are... not called in lightly." 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     "Then I suppose we should just write our congressmen," Veers answers with an arch of his brow and a sardonic smile. "I'm sure that this "Shredder" is counting on the fact that no one will uburn their own bridges to stop him. Whoever he or she is, I'm sure that there is a rather healthy understanding of psychology behind this move. I could come out and publicly declare to the city that I've witnessed a great level of corruption and what not. If I do, then I'm sure to be a target in more ways than one." He shrugs. "But if there is no one to swing at the pitch..." He winces. "I don't much like the idea of dying for no reason." 

:'''{{#var:1092|Natasha Cranston (1092)}} has posed:'''     The Shadow chuckles again and inclines their head. "Point taken, they reply. "I'll see what I can arrange. The meeting should be... Interesting, at least..." 
}}

10970/Funny meeting you here

2020-02-20T21:31:27Z

GodsKnite: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2020/02/03 |Location=Delmar's Deli-Grocery, Jackson Heights |Synopsis=Volt and June run across one another and catch up. |Cast of Characters=1787,1..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2020/02/03
|Location=Delmar's Deli-Grocery, Jackson Heights
|Synopsis=Volt and June run across one another and catch up.
|Cast of Characters=1787,1773
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:1787|June (1787)}} has posed:'''     "Del'Mar, come on, you know he comes here like, every Monday," June insists. "Somebody even saw him talkin' with ya," June insists.     A shake of the head is all that she gets from the sandwich shop owner.     "Don't be a bitch, come on, just lemme know where he goes," June presses. "June, you know I'm not talkin' to you, and I don't talk to them, it's not my problem," he insists in his thick accent. "And you know who is here now, you better leave, I don't want trouble."     June growls, "Fuck. Right now?" she asks. The answer is a glance past her shoulder. She doesn't look. "Yeah, okay," she says.     June's bright red hair has recently returned, after having cycled through a few different flourescent tones. She shoves her hands in the pockets of her charcoal hoody with the red hood, and turns around, heading out of the sandwich shop. She doesn't glance at the man who watches her at the bus stop, but puts her hood over her head as she starts away from him. Her pace is brisk, blue shaded blue eyes glancing up and at the roofs, at the alleys as she walks during the evening rush hour. 

:'''{{#var:1773|Drake Riley (1773)}} has posed:''' What a coincidence! When she looks up, she's going to spot an unusual figure leaning over the rooftop's edge. Though against the fading, evening light against the backdrop of a cloudy sky, it may seem more of a hunching, elven-eared silhouette. But those are just the points of his visor. It's chilly out tonight. Volt would be feeling it more, if it weren't for the well-designed costume he's wearing. Protective, flexible, /and/ good for all weather conditions! The cape settled about his frame also helps, but to a lesser degree. But since he began rooftop-perching, he'd noticed the air is always a little colder up there. Just one of those things to get accustomed to. And since he'd been absolutely killing it in the Titans' Danger Room, it was time to take a break and go on a patrol. Seemed as good a spot as any - his own checkered background would suggest this would be a tempting, low-risk target for hoods. Just bring a gun; the owner may be packing something behind the counter. A hoodie emerges. That's like a hood, but in a different context. The person wearing it seems to look up at him, and unaware of any underlying tensions, he lifts his left hand to flick a two-fingered salute-acknowledgment from his temple. No reason for regular citizens to be worried about a superhero, right? 

:'''{{#var:1787|June (1787)}} has posed:'''     June wasn't looking for a hero, she was looking for Foot. The dark figure in the evening light is not easy to define, but the points on the visor give a silohuette that is similar to another figure that turns her blood to ice. Surely not. He wouldn't be out on patrol...     She glances behind her. The man at the bus station is crossing the street now, and she glances back up. Uncertain who is on the roof, she decides to run. Her break into a sprint is sudden, reversing her direction and heading toward the man at the bus station, and away from Volt. The man takes a ready stance, and as she reaches them, fists begin to fly from both of them as they meet. She parries a jab giving a pressure strike under his ribs, followed by a throat strike. He throws a fist into her gut, and she catches him, using the force of his blow to send him into a moving car. He rolls off the hood, and to the ground. Of course, even in NYC, someone being hit by a car causes a few eyes to look. She doesn't stop, though, running across the street in full flight as she heads down the street. 

:'''{{#var:1773|Drake Riley (1773)}} has posed:''' From Volt's perspective: This hooded person sees him and runs. Immediately begins throwing hands with what appears to be the next person she meets, like a crazy 28-Days-Later zombie. After throwing him into a car, she takes off running again, possibly to throw another person into a car. If life were a sidescrolling Nintendo game, this has to be what it'd look like. But alas, it's sending a weird message: namely, this chick is attacking people and you need to get on top of the situation. Volt takes off along the rooftop's perimeter, and upon running out of rooftop to work with, promptly springs from its lip. A cylindrical device is plucked from his belt and fired at the next building across the street, anchoring a hook against its brick wall. The connecting cable retracts, zipping him rapidly across the way without yet touching down. His boots hit the side of the building, and he neatly drops the remainder of the short distance down to the sidewalk. She's still a little ahead of him, but now he's on the ground level. And with the zipline slotted back into place, he's taking off in pursuit, cape billowing behind him. "Hey!" 

:'''{{#var:1787|June (1787)}} has posed:'''     June doesn't respond to the call out, not having any idea who called, nor interested to find out. She start to turn around the next corner, only to find a few ladies on a walk with their strollers. She sneers at them, and turns back around, glancing only briefly at the pursuing figure of Drake. It's a slight surprise, it wasn't what she thought, but she's still being chased, and isn't about to ask who or why. She pulls a kunai from her hoody, smashing the side of a passing car's driver side window, which causes an angry screech of the breaks. Which causes another car to rear end him. She doesn't stay for the aftermath, but vaults between the broken bumpers, causing another car to have to hard stop as she finishes her dangerous crossing of the street, and burst into the alley beyond. 

:'''{{#var:1773|Drake Riley (1773)}} has posed:''' This isn't helping her image! Seeing her cause a wreck to weave traffic effectively makes her appear more dangerous! The situation has to be resolved, and soon! The caped crusader (albeit not the one she's likely thinking of) follows close behind her, albeit more carefully to try to avoid incurring additional damages to the vehicles involved. But upon getting clear of the traffic, he puts his right foot forward and extends his right arm, fingers splayed. "Freeze, or I'll shoot!" It's a typical line more fitting a cop, but the idea is that it'll elicit a pause from her. And the good thing is, if he has to take a shot at her, he can control how damaging it would be. No accidental deaths on his watch! 

:'''{{#var:1787|June (1787)}} has posed:'''     Now out of the view of the common passerby, June spins around when she hears the phrase, her hood falling off her head from the running. "Who the fuck are you?" she asks, her eyes only on Volt for a split second before scanning the alleyway for weapons, obstacles, and other things she might be able to use to her advantage. A tall chain link is behind her, quartering off her straight run path. 

:'''{{#var:1773|Drake Riley (1773)}} has posed:''' She spins to face him, and the Volt remains poised at the ready. "The name's-- June?" Eyes blink a couple times behind that visor as he recognize the punky stylings of the girl he met rather early in his days in New York City. She has one of those faces that are hard to forget. The arm lowers by half, taken off guard. "What're you doing?" 

:'''{{#var:1787|June (1787)}} has posed:'''     June's brow knits, not quite identifying Drake in the uniform, even if it doesn't cover his face. "Sent to get that sweet bounty, huh?" she says, flipping the kunai in her hand that she used to cause the fender bender. "Ain't gonna go down easy..." she looks like she has more to finish the sentence, maybe an impromptu insult on the costume..."Whoever you're supposed to be dressed up as. So you better be ready to get fucked if you wanna fuck." Mouthy as ever. Of course, she doesn't have any mutant powers as he does, probably putting her at a decided disadvantage. 

:'''{{#var:1773|Drake Riley (1773)}} has posed:''' "W-.. h'what?," Volt asks, cracking a grin at the tough-talk. It can't be helped; it came out funny. But at this point, his arm has completely lowered to his side again. "You don't recognize me, do ya?" There's a glance to the side, ensuring all onlookers are at a safe distance. Satisfied, he moves closer to her. "We met like a year ago. Year'n a half or something. At the mall. You brought me to that hangout when everything went sideways for me..." Though he stops several feet from her still, his body language is more at ease - or at least, non-threatening. He doesn't intend to fire on her, though the kunai has certainly been noted. It's a risk he's taking, but he's been on the other side of this situation before. 

:'''{{#var:1787|June (1787)}} has posed:'''     June's eyes remain narrowed during the recounting. "Shit. Drake?" she asks. "Holy hell. Thought you didn't join up?" she says. "Thought you ended up bein' smart enough to steer clear of all this shit." She still backs up a little as he steps forward, but doesn't greet the advance with a strike. Her kunai lowers a little, but still at the ready, and her eyes shift attention upward, then she takes a fast glance behind before looking forward again, as if expecting a blindside. 

:'''{{#var:1773|Drake Riley (1773)}} has posed:''' "Volt," he corrects with a cant of his head. Costume, cape, visor, all that jazz. No names! Except hers. Because she's not even in a costume. "Nah. Apparently I'm not." The grin is still present on his face, and he takes a couple steps closer. His hand raises again, fingertips reaching out not in threat, but to try to tap the side of her kunai and gently guide it down. "Level with me. What're you doing? It looks like you're slugging it out with random people." 

:'''{{#var:1787|June (1787)}} has posed:'''     June seems to measure for a few seconds his sincerity. "Well, if you were with them I guess I'd be SOL already," she admits. She still does another glance about. "Guess you probably heard about Manhattan, when the Foot threw all the shithead gang leaders into the mid-day traffic?" she asks. "Well, I decided I'd turncoat like a dumbass," she says. "Long story involving a guy that...you know, it doesn't matter. What matters is I'm marked a bit. The guy I threw into the car was one of them. He'll probably live I guess," she shrugs. "Saw you up on the rooftop, thought for a second you were /him/." She flips the kunai again, perhaps out of habit. 

:'''{{#var:1773|Drake Riley (1773)}} has posed:''' Alright, so the kunai isn't really going away. Volt can square that with himself. It's security. So his gloved hands prop at his hips. "Him? Him who? C'mon, I'm new to things on this scale. Work with me." He spares another glance to the side, then tilts aside to peer past her. "If anyone shows up, you've got me. You can breathe. But maybe we should get a little more out of sight, eh?" 

:'''{{#var:1787|June (1787)}} has posed:'''     June smirks, "That's sweet, but I don't think we're there yet," she says, as if it was some sort of date request. "I dunno where is out of sight of the Foot right now," she confesses. "They got the whole city canvassed, I might need to shave my head again," she idly supposes. She looks up the fire escape. "I got a thought," she says, returning the kunai to studded belt, walking to the escape and then running up the wall without warning, catching the iron grate platform. It shows just how dexterous she is as she pulls her legs up and onto the railing, and then turns around to pull herself onto the platform. She checks inside the window. "I know the folks who live here," she claims, "They won't mind if we borrow it for a few." She pulls the kunai out again, and lifts the window up until it is stopped by a wooden post that prevents break-ins. She slips her arm underneath, stretching with the kunai to tap it to the side, causing the dowel rod to fall to the floor inside, and she opens the window the rest of the way. 

:'''{{#var:1773|Drake Riley (1773)}} has posed:''' Volt's grin adjusts into a smirk as the information is denied. He'll just check the Titans database and do a bit of research. She mentioned the Foot. Find big names associated with it. Narrow it down. He may not get an exact answer, but he'll be able to narrow it down. "Sharing is caring, June," he chides. She scampers up the wall, and he's genuinely impressed. He didn't know she could do that. But he has a more efficient means of doing that. The cylinder is produced from his belt again, held aloft, and the hook fires from its end, anchoring onto the lip of the building's rooftop. The cable retracts more slowly to bring him up to the window, and he follows her on in. Hook disengages, line retracts, grapple device replaced in his belt. "I don't plan on sticking around too long. But I do wanna hear more. Like, what's going on with you? What's your plan?" 

:'''{{#var:1787|June (1787)}} has posed:'''     Inside the apartment, it's clear this isn't the most upper echelon. It smells like a cat urinated somewhere, and there's a collection of clothes on the floor in a pile. The furniture is old, nothing is new or even nice. She plops into a cat destroyed recliner. "Okay, so, /him/ as in the Shredder. Might be a bit paranoid, I'm way below his radar, but...you never know. I may or may not have really fucked up, and so they marked me as a traitor. Foot stays close, like a family. You betray that, you die." She shrugs, "I'm stupid as that. Doesn't help that they pretty much rule the underworld of NYC now." She shakes her head. "So...what's with the cape and shit? You become a vigilante now?" 

:'''{{#var:1773|Drake Riley (1773)}} has posed:''' "Geeze. And here I was getting all mixed up with you," Volt teases as he approaches the couch. He doesn't take a seat just yet, though. He's still a smidge on edge. Before he can further question her, however, she's turned the barrel back on him. "Ah? Nope. Full-fledged, card-carrying superhero," he reports. "Member of the Titans. All that. When last you saw me, I'd just bailed on the Xavier group. I didn't feel like I really fit in where you brought me - it was a little too much like what I got away from back in L.A. So I went to Bushwick and just.. slummed it up, street-style. Started doing the vigilante thing there, so that my existence would at least matter somehow." 

:'''{{#var:1787|June (1787)}} has posed:'''     "Hero, vigilante, I never really got the difference," June admits. "Yeah, good thing you didn't listen to me, I'm a dumbass." She gets up, and walks to the kitchen, opening a couple of cabinets, after the third, she finds a bag of pretzels, and pulls them out, opening them up and snatching a few out. "Glad you landed on your feet. I'm not in this city as much lately," she admits. "Been living in Gotham with a few that managed to get me /not/ dead on the exit from the Foot. Been just...y'know, helping them with Gotham crime shit, trying to find the big wigs and take them out of play." 

:'''{{#var:1773|Drake Riley (1773)}} has posed:''' "I'm legal," Volt replies. After a beat, he quickly appends, "I work with the police, militaries, so on. No getting chased by feds for me." He follows after her into the kitchen, sparing her the need of wandering back and forth. "Why'd you do it?," he asks bluntly. "Why run off on the Foot?" 

:'''{{#var:1787|June (1787)}} has posed:'''     "I got a bit impulsive," June admits, holding out the bag of pretzels toward Drake as she returns to the main room. She shoves another in her mouth, chewing it while she speaks. "There was a guy, he thought he'd save my soul or somethin', he was kinda dumb, but heart in the right spot. His efforts got him marked. I stopped the mission to kill him, and killed one of our own. There's no forgiveness for that. I tried to cover it up, which... failed spectacularly." 

:'''{{#var:1773|Drake Riley (1773)}} has posed:''' Volt takes the offered pretzel, but doesn't pop it into his mouth immediately. Instead, he gestures with it towards her. "I probably would've done the same. I mean, try to pull you out of it. You were too nice. And, c'mon, you're a girl who was givin' me attention." He shoots her a grin and finally pops it into his mouth. Chew, chew, swallow. "But you say you /killed/ one of'em?" 

:'''{{#var:1787|June (1787)}} has posed:'''     The compliment induces a sardonic grin from June. "Shit, I come across as nice? I must be getting really good at bullshit. I'm a total asshole." She wanders back across the room, looking at a baby picture on a bookshelf. "Killed, ya. I mean, I wasn't trained to go half way on stuff. Dunno what you know about ninjas, but it ain't all just black pajamas and katanas." 

:'''{{#var:1773|Drake Riley (1773)}} has posed:''' "Is it stoplight-red hair and cold-cocking people on the street?," Volt teases. But his voice is a little tighter with the knowledge that she's killed folks. That's a line he's refused to cross - at least since arriving in New York. "Anyway, maybe everyone else was just seeing something in ya that you weren't up for seeing, yourself." 

:'''{{#var:1787|June (1787)}} has posed:'''     June shrugs. "I'm not the kind that gets welcomed with open arms by the hero types. I got a little too much mud on my boots for the clean halls of heroes." She turns back from the phoot. "I ain't a good girl," she declares. "I ain't even a nice girl. Shit, half the time I still wonder if the Foot ain't in the right still. People think I must've just gotten mixed up in the wrong crowd, or dealt a shit hand, or whatever. I made my choicces, nobody else. Nobody made me what I am but me. I don't cry about it, but I'm not all that proud of it. You? You got your spot on the up and up, and that's great for ya. I ain't gonna hold that against you or play the 'you don't get me' shit people like to pull out to justify themselves. It's good. Truth is, whatever life I grew up with, I bet I'd end up in the same place I am now. I just ain't that smart." 

:'''{{#var:1773|Drake Riley (1773)}} has posed:''' "Okay, so get smart," Volt counters. He steps up beside her, tilting enough to bump one of those capped shoulders lightly at her. She may have noticed his considerably more confident demeanor since last she saw him, to boot; no longer a stray. "Did I ever tell you about how things were for /me/? Because I was definitely not someone anyone'd expect /this/ out of," he adds, motioning towards himself. "I used to do things, too. Bad things. And it was my choice. No one had a gun to my head." 

:'''{{#var:1787|June (1787)}} has posed:'''     June grins, "And now you're the picture of green justice," she concludes. "Yeah, can't say I'm all that fan of justice. It doesn't ever seem to end up playin' fair. That's why the group I joined, we kinda redefine it according to what makes the most sense. We are'nt likely to get medals and shit, but," she shrugs. "Shit gets done, y'know? So this whole Foot thing? Ways Shredder has it now, he controls what justice is. Assholes gettin' off and all that. I guess it's not really all that different than it's always been, it's just easier to pick a target on who's to blame right now." 

:'''{{#var:1773|Drake Riley (1773)}} has posed:''' Volt nods at her. "Because what I was doing didn't make me feel right. Didn't make me feel like much of a person. It got me friends, but when I was by myself with nothing but my thoughts, I didn't like it." Opting not to pressure her, Volt moves to lean against the side wall. "I was different. You're different, too, just not in the same way. You already showed that off. So I guess the difference is, what makes you different from the Foot. And why the heck do they call themselves feet?" 

:'''{{#var:1787|June (1787)}} has posed:'''     "Foot," June corrects, "Not Feet. It's an old legend that the founter of the Foot clan, Tatsuo Takeshi, was like, an unkillable warrior, super baller. He got betrayed by his master, and lost his leg but still killed like a million guys, and was healed by a spirit kitsune, and...somethin', I forget, but there was a bloody footprint or somethin' and that's how it got its name. It's a Japanese thing." She reaches back in the bag, grabbing a few more pretzels. "So I showed what off? That I'm 'different'?" she asks, making quotes in the air. 

:'''{{#var:1773|Drake Riley (1773)}} has posed:''' "Uh, yeah. Unless we're living in a Chow Yun Fat movie, normal people don't run up walls," Volt asserts. To emphasize, he motions aside to the window. "So maybe you don't spit fireballs, but you're obviously not garden variety. Whether through training or not. That's all I'm saying." His focus returns to her, and he puts on a weary smile. "Mysterious stories aside, have you squared that away? That you're different from them? Because the way I see it, everyone thinks they're doing good. Not a lot of people out there being evil for its own sake. So there has to be a, a metric or something besides just personal feeling." 

:'''{{#var:1787|June (1787)}} has posed:'''     A rather unintentional shrug is given in response. "I mean, who the fuck am I to say any different? Nobody goes around thinkin', I'm just one evil motherfucker, somebody better off me before I get carried away. I hear people say, 'Well I ain't killed anyone, so I'm pretty good'. I'm like...shit. That's the line you gotta draw to count yourself a good guy? I can't even draw that line, so I'm probably gonna burn in hell, or get reincarnated as a cockroach, or whatever is the bad stuff that happens when you die." 

:'''{{#var:1773|Drake Riley (1773)}} has posed:''' "Yeah. Hey, June. I can't make that claim, either," Volt mentions, that smile shifting to a frown. "The law. That's the metric. Serving justice - something outside of myself. I had a long, long time to think about that while I was in Bushwick. The.. idea, or ideology maybe, of being a hero. What it means past the obvious. And it's not perfect. But it's something. The rudder that steers the ship." His chin uptilts. "I don't mean to be all heavy on you. I'm just happy you're out of.. whatever that criminal group was. Ninja feet. Foots." He chances another smile at her, small and subdued, hoping a modicum of levity will help. 

:'''{{#var:1787|June (1787)}} has posed:'''     "Well, I think I won't go as dark as to serve the law," June answers, rolling up the pretzel bag and going to replace it to the cabinet. There is a jingle of keys outside the door. "Speaking of which," she glances toward the door, "We better not be here, breaking and entering probably doesn't look good on the superhero scale then," she moves back to the window, opening it back up. Didn't she say she knew these people? 

:'''{{#var:1773|Drake Riley (1773)}} has posed:''' Volt's attempt at humor didn't seem to land, and her first response is a little smirk. It's such an ambiguous situation she seems to've landed herself in, and he doesn't want to end up taking her on. They were never an item or anything, but he /does/ have a genuine appreciation for her looking out for him early on. "Wait, what?," he asks, shooting a look back to the door. She doesn't know the people here? Dangit, June! He quietly moves after her, stepping lightly, but letting her have the lead exit. 

:'''{{#var:1787|June (1787)}} has posed:'''     June quickly steps back out onto the fire escape, then waits for Volt before sliding the window down quickly, just ahead of the opening door. She grins, "Guess you're a law breaker again," she teases, and scoots her way up to the next floor so that they won't be in earshot just outside the window. "Sorry, didn't think you'd follow me in if I told you I didn't have a clue. Not like we stole anything," she justifies. "Well, maybe some pretzels, but I don't think that counts." 

:'''{{#var:1773|Drake Riley (1773)}} has posed:''' Volt is just behind her, the wisp of his cape the final vestige of their presence before it vanishes. And once they're free, he aims a very light play-punch at her midsection; completely harmless. "Jerk," he chides. "Really leaning into that whole 'girl your mother warned you about' vibe, aren't'cha? I'll accept 'unwitting accomplice', and nothing more." 

:'''{{#var:1787|June (1787)}} has posed:'''     June shrugs with a mocking grin, doing nothing to defend herself against the punch, and then sits down on the metal step. "Hey, gotta stick to my strengths," she answers. "But really, I think I'm a bit too broken to be a regular hero type. the Birds and I, we do what we can, and they put up with my bullshit, which is good for me or I'd probably SOL. As for the Shredder, I try not to go right wrongs on that street, hands are too bloody for that, and it's way too close to home. But if you wanna go try to fuck him up, you better bring a bunch that you care about. You can only beat family with family." 

:'''{{#var:1773|Drake Riley (1773)}} has posed:''' Volt scoffs softly. "Eventually I don't think you're gonna feel that way. 'Cuz that's how I felt back in L.A. Like the only people I could really be around were other hoodrats. So..." He pauses, voice softening a touch as he drifts more into sincerity and less cheek, "...I hope it starts to go that way for you, anyway. I'd do what I can to help you out, if it does." A boot moves forward to toebump her. "It's only fair, right?" As for Shredder? He doesn't really even know enough about him to say anything about it. When he thinks about it for a moment, his mind automatically turns it into 'Grater', includes cheese, and ultimately winds up with a pitch by Billy Mays. Best to focus on the familiar right in front of him. 

:'''{{#var:1787|June (1787)}} has posed:'''     June laughs a harsh chuckle. She doesn't really respond in the positive or negative to the toe bump, though her eyes drop to watch it for a moment with a rather neutral study of the action.     "Yeah, hopefully for me you're better at it than I am. Last guy that said that ended up on a shitty emotional roller coaster because of me. Don't really wanna do that to people. He had some hero complex issues." She eyes the suit, then gives a cock of one eyebrow as if to say she wonders the same thing of the young man in front of her. 

:'''{{#var:1773|Drake Riley (1773)}} has posed:''' Volt is wearing a garish, colorful costume with a cape. Of course he is. He isn't even trying to hide it. He meets that look from her with a smirk and quirked brow of his own. "Let me worry about me. And let's just say, if you want support? You know where to find it." Gloved hands raise. "No pressure, alright?" 

:'''{{#var:1787|June (1787)}} has posed:'''     "Right, well, try not to get dead," June answers. "Imma go try to do the same. "Shit it's cold up here." She gets up from the step. "Take care of yourself, uh..." she pauses, "What was the superhero name again?" she asks, having forgotten. 

:'''{{#var:1773|Drake Riley (1773)}} has posed:''' Volt is already turning from her, plucking that cylindrival device from his belt. Of course he has plans to not get dead! That's the name of the game, after all. And it's why there's so much training involved in this newfound lifestyle. As he raises his arm to get an angle on the next adjacent rooftop, he catches her fumble and question. "Volt," he replies, side-eyeing her through the visor. Not too hard a name to keep track of. One syllable, truth in advertising. He hopes it'll stick; not just with her, but everyone! "Take care!" The device fires off, a grapple clamping onto the next rooftop's corner. And just like that, he's zipping away into the air! 
}}

10694/Establish the Boundaries

2020-01-31T21:39:15Z

GodsKnite: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2020/01/10 |Location=Salem Center, Westchester County |Synopsis=Mason tries to make a move on Shannon for a more physical relationship. She stands..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2020/01/10
|Location=Salem Center, Westchester County
|Synopsis=Mason tries to make a move on Shannon for a more physical relationship. She stands her ground and he learns a little.
|Cast of Characters=1776,8765
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:1776|Mason (1776)}} has posed:'''     Another year has started. Mason was out of town for the holidays, back in California with his mother. Of course, there were parties out there he had to go visit as well. Some he might share with others, some maybe he will keep to himself. But now classes are back in session, and he's back to the school. He came back with a present. Apparently he wasn't thoughtful enough to buy a present before he left, but on Christmas he let her know he had found her something while he was out in California. It was shipped to a music store in the Salem Center, and so today was the day to go pick it up, but he hasn't told her what it was yet. "How was Christmas?" he asks, taking his usual 'too fast' standard as they zip down the back roads of Westchester. 

:'''{{#var:8765|Shannon (8765)}} has posed:'''      Shannon just chuckles and smiles, having the good sense to keep her wings tucked in tightly behind her for the drive down. "It was pretty good. I stayed up here for the kids who didn't really have anyone for the holiday, but I did get to visit my folks for New Year's. There was the huge dinner at school, and just before Thanksgiving there was supposed to have been a concert but that fell through. It's been pretty quiet otherwise, though I bet things will pick back up again now that the holidays are over." It seems over the holidays she's changed her hair up a little bit, adding a small blue braid, just a few shades darker than her own eyes, with three little silver beads on the end, on the left side of her face. She's dressed in a white tunic sweater, dark blue jeans, and knee-length caramel suede boots. "What about you, though? You were gone for a while again, everything okay?" 

:'''{{#var:1776|Mason (1776)}} has posed:'''     "Yeah," Mason says, "Just wanted to go see a bunch of people back in Cali, that's all," he says dismissively. "Hung out with Mom, gave Dad a call, stuff like that. Did a couple charity events, you know, obligatory celebrity stuff." He gives a shrug, and then narrowly misses being hit as he guns a left turn ahead of a car to pull into the parking lot of the mall. "Whoo, plenty of room, right?" he laughs. He searches the parking rows, looking for a good spot to park. 

:'''{{#var:8765|Shannon (8765)}} has posed:''' Shannon yelps as the car is narrowly missed, her eyes gone as wide as dinner plates as her short life flashes before them. As the saying goes, 'first you say it, then you do it'. If that is true, then she will need a new pair of jeans by the time they head back to the school! "Hey, I'm a healer, I'm not Lazarus! I can't bring people back from the dead!" Still, she laughs, shaking her head. It seems Mason hadn't changed one bit, as wild and reckless as ever! 

:'''{{#var:1776|Mason (1776)}} has posed:'''     Mason finds a spot somewhere around the middle of a row, and throws it into park. "Sorry!" he grins. So very not sorry is on his face. He hops out of the car. "You curious what I got ya?" he asks with a big smile. "I think you're gonna love it." 

:'''{{#var:8765|Shannon (8765)}} has posed:'''      Shannon's knees are shaking a bit as she gets out of the car, checking to make sure she hasn't lost any feathers over the wild ride. Nope, no molting today! She laughs some and cants her head, peering over at him. "You didn't have to, you know. Just hope you'll like what I made for you." She grins a bit sheepishly, looking down at her slightly needle-pricked and now calloused fingers--had she been taking up a new instrument in his absence? "I had a lot of sewing to do for the holidays for everyone." 

:'''{{#var:1776|Mason (1776)}} has posed:'''     "Well, getting me stuff you can find in the store always seems kinda..." he shrugs. "Kind of the problem I guess with having money, I can probably get whatever it is myself. So something that someone makes, especially if it's someone that has some skills like you," he adds. "That's something I can't buy, so I'm really looking forward to seeing it." He makes his way into the mall, holding the door for her first, of course. 

:'''{{#var:8765|Shannon (8765)}} has posed:''' Shannon smiles and slips through the door, shaking a little bit of snow off of her wings; on the way in, a few flakes had begun to fall, promising a coating of white on the ground by the time they were ready to head back. "That's why I like a homemade Christmas. I think I'd better be sewing all year this year, though. Trying to cram all those presents into a few short months was nuts! Especially this one." She takes her phone from her pocket and swipes through to a picture of a very patriotic-looking red, white, and blue quilt. Flipping her phone around, she shows that to him, with a sheepish grin. "Guess you can kind of guess who that was meant for. Got to give it to them a couple days before Christmas." 

:'''{{#var:1776|Mason (1776)}} has posed:'''     "Oh, that's cool, Mason says, looking closely at the phone and then moving to steal a cheeky kiss peck. "Like, Captain America or something?" he asks. "Looks like one he'd like. Well, I can't make stuff, unless it's songs." He stops. "Dang, I shoulda thought of that, I could have written people songs for Christmas." He scratches the back of his head. "Well, I guess you'll have to make due with my 'not homemade Christmas' present." 

:'''{{#var:8765|Shannon (8765)}} has posed:''' Shannon chuckles and turns a bit red. "That's exactly who it was for. Not sure how he liked it, he was determined to not spoil the surprise till Christmas. Hasn't been any word since. So here's hoping. I'm not about to bug the guy." The minute it sounds like Mason is about to put down his 'not homemade' Christmas present, she stops right there as they're making their way through the food court, crossing her arms, her wings spreading out and ruffling. "Hey. You put thought into it, that counts for a hella lot, you know." 

:'''{{#var:1776|Mason (1776)}} has posed:'''     Mason grins that slick grin that he has, "Well, we'll see if I hit the mark," he comments, heading to the music store. He walks up to the counter. "Hey Mike, it came in, right?" he asks the guy behind the counter, looking back with a sneaky grin to Shannon. 

:'''{{#var:8765|Shannon (8765)}} has posed:''' Shannon grins, recognizing the music store as the one where she had gotten her guitar just a few weeks before Christmas. What on earth could Mason have in mind, coming here? Her brows quirk upwards, and she smiles, trying not to peek over -too- much from where she is nosing through some sheet music for piano solo versions of favorite songs; just her luck, she's come across a book of Elton John music she didn't have! "You didn't go overboard did you, Mason?" 

:'''{{#var:1776|Mason (1776)}} has posed:'''     "Overboard is very relative," Mason answers. Mike, the guy behind the counter, goes back to get the delivery. "Besides, I /do/ have a budget for stuff." He keeps that canary-eating grin. A new keyboard comes out. A Yamaha M0FX8 88 key. There are fancier keyboards out there, of course, but it's certainly a good one.     "Sorry it isn't wrapped, I'm a pretty typical guy in that respect," Mason admits. "Thought you might like an upgrade, you know?" he suggests. 

:'''{{#var:8765|Shannon (8765)}} has posed:'''      "Holy sh..iitake mushrooms. Mason, you didn't!" It was a sight different than the one her mother had passed on down to her, for sure. There was no way Shannon would get rid of that one, so it appeared now it was likely she'd be able to play some duets! Wrapping arms and wings around Mason in a hug, she just smiles from ear to ear. "Thank you!" 

:'''{{#var:1776|Mason (1776)}} has posed:'''     Mason happily receives the hug. "I'm glad you like it," he says with a smile. "Sorry I've been a bit absent. I have a bad habit of getting distracted," he admits. One hand travels a little farther south than a simple friendly hug, giving her a pinch. "Maybe we should take your new toy for a spin somewhere," he suggests. 

:'''{{#var:8765|Shannon (8765)}} has posed:'''      That pinch does make Shannon go very still for a moment. Without making a big deal of it, she curls her fingers around his wrists and very subtly, gently moves his hands away from the affected area. There was no sense embarrassing him, but neither was she going to let him get fresh with her, especially not in public! She steps back just out of reach and nods, tucking her wings in neatly behind her. "Sounds good, but where?" 

:'''{{#var:1776|Mason (1776)}} has posed:'''     The smiles on his face as she moves his hands away is hardly apologetic, but he doesn't force the issue. "I dunno, could go back to the school," he suggests. "Unless you can think of a better place." He glances back to the deliverer of the gift. "Thanks, Mike," he says to the guy behind the counter. "Want to carry it or should I?" He keeps going as if nothing at all had happened, just as confident as ever. 

:'''{{#var:8765|Shannon (8765)}} has posed:'''      Shannon's answer to the question of who gets to carry the gift is simply to scoop the keyboard up in her arms, carrying it against her shoulder. "I'll never get rid of the one my mother passed down to me, but this one will be wonderful to play also." She smiles and runs her fingers gently over the lettering on the box. "I remember you saying you did some work on advertising for Yamaha when you came back that one time." 

:'''{{#var:1776|Mason (1776)}} has posed:'''     "Yeah," Mason remembers, though he hadn't really thought about it. There's the look on his face that says she may have remembered better than he had. "Well I'm glad you like it." He starts heading back toward the exit, leading the way so that he'll be able to hold doors as necessary. As they leave the store, he turns to walk backward as he talks. "So, you want to go to the school? Or maybe someplace...quieter?" he suggests with the tilt of his head. 

:'''{{#var:8765|Shannon (8765)}} has posed:'''      The box is bulky and not exactly light, but the winged teen is managing it well enough. She smiles a bit at Mason and tilts her head, ruffling her wings by way of a shrug. "Well, where could we go that'd let me try this out? I'd be kind of curious to hear what kind of sound this has." Given his wandering hands just a few minutes ago, she's a bit wary, and not exactly pushing for a location either way, curious to see where he has in mind. 

:'''{{#var:1776|Mason (1776)}} has posed:'''     "Well," Mason says, holding the door as they reach the end of the mall to return to the parking lot. "I know that the back door to the Jr. High auditorium doesn't latch quite right," he notes. "Sometimes I sneak in there to work on something with the feel of stage." He uses his body to hold the door, and shoves his hands into his pockets. 

:'''{{#var:8765|Shannon (8765)}} has posed:'''      Shannon's eyes go wide, and she looks a tiny bit scandalized. "Doesn't that qualify as breaking and entering?" she asks, keeping her voice down low. "Maybe there's somewhere a little quiet where we could go at the school. Urgh, we -so- need a stage, and they'd freak if we used the DR for that." As tempting as it was, surely. "There anywhere that doesn't involve sneaking around?" 

:'''{{#var:1776|Mason (1776)}} has posed:'''     "C'mon," Mason teases with that charming smile. "It's half the fun," he contends. "Besides, school's closed right now, it's not like anyone's gonna be there to even know. Even if they did, I'm sure I could talk our way out of it," he justifies. "Not like we are gonna steal anything or break stuff, we're just borrowing the stage," he adds. He opens the trunk of the car for the keyboard. "You know you want to," he taunts lightly. 

:'''{{#var:8765|Shannon (8765)}} has posed:'''      "Maybe," Shannon concedes. "But what we want isn't always -right-. You know it's wrong to break and enter, and what if whoever we talk to if we get caught is in a pissy mood, or just an unreasonable jerk? I don't want to see you put in that position." She grins a little bit, thinking of a possible alternative. "It might not be as quiet, but... well, sometimes they do let me do sound checks over at Evolution, and that wouldn't involve a possible run-in with the law." 

:'''{{#var:1776|Mason (1776)}} has posed:'''     "I mean, yeah, if we wanna drive all the way down to the city," Mason answers, tone indicating he doesn't. "That's /so/ much traffic to get through." If permitted, he takes the keyboard to put it in the trunk. "Besides, we might want to do other things we shouldn't do," he suggests, innuendo strong. "Hard to do that at Club Evolution," he notes. 

:'''{{#var:8765|Shannon (8765)}} has posed:'''      While not blind to innuendo, Shannon was doing her best to ignore it, and not actively encourage it. "Still, the drive there would be wild. I mean, look who's got the lead foot and the golden voice!" She giggles softly, gently nudging him in a teasing sort of way. "And that's something I can't do yet. Waiting till spring for that. Have wings, will travel!" 

:'''{{#var:1776|Mason (1776)}} has posed:'''     "Wild is fun," Mason says with a wink, hip nudging her back. "Okay, if we go to Evolution, though, we'll have to go out to someplace nice for dinner," he says, "How's that sound?" he asks. "Maybe give you some candlelight even," he adds, closing the trunk and moving to open the door for her. 

:'''{{#var:8765|Shannon (8765)}} has posed:'''      Sliding into the passenger seat, Shannon makes doubly sure to buckle up, knowing all too well Mason's need for speed. There might be a meme going around the school of her bug-splatted on the DR floor, but she wasn't keen on becoming a bug splat across someone's windshield! "Sounds good! Where did you have in mind?" 

:'''{{#var:1776|Mason (1776)}} has posed:'''     Mason tears out of the parking lot like a bat on fire, and he zips down the side streets. "Some hole in the wall," he says with a shrug. "Unless Sam makes us stay and eat there," He guns it even harder as he gets to the freeway, the whir of the engine complaining at the high level of speed as he zips along that thin gray line of pavement. 

:'''{{#var:8765|Shannon (8765)}} has posed:'''      "Hey, the hole in the wall places can have the best food! Think there's any steak or seafood places that'd work?" Yeah, no, Shannon might like her vegetables, but she was definitely no vegan! A rare peal of laughter escapes her as the car zooms down the side streets, the speed and the rumbling roar of the engine making her very glad she had her seatbelt on! "There was gonna be a concert there and I was supposed to have been the warm-up act but the whole thing fell through. Who knows," she adds, turning a bit red. "Maybe I'll finally get to hear the song I wrote in there." 

:'''{{#var:1776|Mason (1776)}} has posed:'''     Mason cocks an eyebrow. "I know a place," he says. "Down near Julliard. And we can pretend I'm using one of the stages that are empty for practice, if there are any that aren't in use right now. It's a lot closer, and quieter," he notes, striking his blinker for the exit. "Unless you really want to do it in Club Evolution. I mean, up to you." 

:'''{{#var:8765|Shannon (8765)}} has posed:'''      Shannon's eyes go a little bit wide, and she can't help a bit of a grin. This was probably the one and only chance she would have to ever get anywhere near Julliard, as she was nowhere near good enough for a place like that. To that, she does nod, and doesn't even bother trying to hold back an impish little grin. "Hey, if it's closer, let's go for it. Plus it's a whole lot less likely you'll get in trouble for it." 

:'''{{#var:1776|Mason (1776)}} has posed:'''     And a hard turn onto the exit, enough that it causes both of them to shift there weight a little in the car. He slows down, and pulls onto the crowded streets of the city. "Now," he clarifies, raising a hand in defense, "I can't PROMISE that there will be one open, but we can check, because there are a couple of musicians that go to Julliard, you know." 

:'''{{#var:8765|Shannon (8765)}} has posed:'''      Shannon lets out a little squeak as the pair are shifted about in the car, laughing, her hands darting out to grip the dash. "Hey. Whether there's one or not, this is a one in a million chance to see the place!" She leaves unspoken her thoughts on whether or no she'd ever be good enough to study there, but hey, even being a guest was special enough! "Pfft. I know there are a couple musicians who go there. Maybe I've got cotton for brains, but yeesh!" Her tone is light and teasing, and she smiles. 

:'''{{#var:1776|Mason (1776)}} has posed:'''     "Well, if you like it, I can always bring you back," Mason suggests. "Maybe we can get you an audition to come here as well for college." That might be more pull than he really has, but he can try. He pulls the car into a parking spot, and hops back out, making a grand gesture to the modern looking university and clicking the trunk release. "Here we are!" 

:'''{{#var:8765|Shannon (8765)}} has posed:'''      The winged teen's eyebrows loft, and she looks a bit dubious at best. "I seriously doubt I've got the chops like you do, to be able to come here for classes. Used to dream about it, or something like it, years ago when I was little and without wings." She's given pause, looking behind her. "Think I'd be better off with my inducer on here?" 

:'''{{#var:1776|Mason (1776)}} has posed:'''     Mason pauses at the question. "Um..." he seems uncertain. "They never really talk a lot about it," he admits. "I don't know. Maybe just to be safe. It's a private school, so they can kick people out for whatever they feel like." Of course, since he's not openly a mutant, he hasn't had to deal with it himself. 

:'''{{#var:8765|Shannon (8765)}} has posed:'''      Nodding quickly, Shannon quickly taps her inducer--hopefully before anyone sees them. Of course, if there are any security cameras on the parking lot, then it's already too late, but hopefully nobody was looking too closely! "Yeah, at least till we find out if this place is more openly mutant friendly or no." Smiling, she gets out of the car, heading around to the trunk to take out the belated Christmas present. 

:'''{{#var:1776|Mason (1776)}} has posed:'''     Mason leads the way in, and goes to the room reservation pad, pulling his Pre-college ID for the school out and showing it to the front desk. "So, no performances tonight," he says, "That's good, but we have a few that are taken..." he swipes the pad a couple of times. "Oh, here's one that's not in use," he beams. "It's on the third floor, it's usually used for the drama students, is that okay?" 

:'''{{#var:8765|Shannon (8765)}} has posed:'''      Shannon sticks pretty close to Mason, hefting the keyboard in her arms with ease. It's not so much the weight of the instrument, it's the bulk that makes it awkward. Her eyes are as wide as dinner plates as she steals a quick glance around, imprinting every detail of the place in her memory. "How did you manage to get lucky enough to be able to go here?" she inquires, looking like a kid at Christmas. "If I wasn't going for medical..." 

:'''{{#var:1776|Mason (1776)}} has posed:'''     The modern stairs are ascended, past the very unique front desk that is built into the white and wood toned steps. Once out of ear shot, he answers, "I hope it's because I was good enough," Mason answers, then glances back down the steps as the desk disappears. He lowers his voice. "My mom is a telepath, and...she doesn't always have the best ethical practices. She tells me she didn't do anything, but I'm never really sure." 

:'''{{#var:8765|Shannon (8765)}} has posed:'''      Shannon grimaces a little bit, keeping silent on the matter of his mother. She'd heard a little bit about it, but yeah, no, there was no point to bringing that up here. However, when she hears his assessment of his talents, she stops in her tracks. "Oi. You are far better than I will ever be. Saw that the first day I met you. Come on, let's face it, 'Rhapsody In Blue' isn't a beginner's piece by any stretch of the imagination!" 

:'''{{#var:1776|Mason (1776)}} has posed:'''     "Nonsense, Are the Beatles better than Bob Dylan, or Mozart better than Beethoven? Just different styles," Mason says. "If people can be touched by your music, that's all that counts in the end. And you have that gift." He hits the elevator to the third floor, and makes his way to the open room. "Here it is!" He opens the door, and the lights automatically turn on, revealing the stage at the end of a 200 seat theatre. It isn't big, but the chairs are rather classy, house seating in wood against a modern curved stage. a ramp is in place rather than stairs, making all of the location handicap accessible. 

:'''{{#var:8765|Shannon (8765)}} has posed:'''      "But you've never heard my own music, have you? So how can you know if it would really touch someone?" Shannon's brought up short as they enter the room; it's not the biggest stage she's ever seen, but it's certainly no elementary school size affair, either! For just a moment, she allows herself to imagine being up there, playing to a full room. "It's a gift you have, though, and don't you ever doubt it." 

:'''{{#var:1776|Mason (1776)}} has posed:'''     "Well, you play the music of others well," Mason says, "So play one of yours!" Without warning, he moves to pick her up in his arms, keyboard and all, and if he isn't stopped, he marches her down to the stage. "Let's get this thing plugged in!" he declares. 

:'''{{#var:8765|Shannon (8765)}} has posed:''' Shannon yelps and holds on to the box, a little surprised at Mason's strength. She'd never seen that aspect of his gifts--either that, or he worked out a lot! Once deposited on the stage, the keyboard is unboxed and plugged in, and her phone slid free of her pocket. "I mostly composed this on my laptop, but there's enough of a keyboard part where maybe this'll work... you're going to want some earplugs before this is all done, though!" 

:'''{{#var:1776|Mason (1776)}} has posed:'''     Mason does work out, though carrying both her and the keyboard to the stage winded him more than he thought it would. He pants a little, and helps get the assembly required done, before settling into the front row. "Earplugs, huh?" he asks. "Is it screamo?" 

:'''{{#var:8765|Shannon (8765)}} has posed:''' Shannon laughs and shrugs. "More of a pop ballad, but I guess every artist is their own worst critic." Well, he did ask! Finding a folding chair in the wings off stage, she brings it over and sets it up, sitting down at the instrument. Her phone is set on the side, and tapped once. A simple, yet surprisingly powerful drumbeat begins, and a rhythmic guitar part, followed by light vibraphone and bass. The keyboard part is played by Shannon herself, and she takes up the lyrics and melody, her silky alto voice ringing out in the small auditorium. " "Maybe my story's not like some Livin' my life under the gun But it's mine And that's just fine I've seen sorrow, I've seen pain I'm learning to dance in the rain Look at me Now I'm free..." Her voice picks up in strength and raw, powerful emotion as light cymbals and a slightly more complex vibraphone line is added for accent. Surely, this must be the refrain of the song. "I'm going to touch the Don't know how, don't know why But now I'm gonna fly And you can't stop me No, you can't stop me I'm going to reach the sun Hold my hand up, touch the stars The sky is mine And I'm just fine I'm going to touch the sky..." 

:'''{{#var:1776|Mason (1776)}} has posed:'''     Mason sits back, listening to the performance and watching Shannon with an eager anticipation, his attention fully fixed on her. At the end, the entire audience gives a standing ovation. Which, well, that's just him, but it's still the entire audience!     "That's fantastic!" he declares. "See, you could do well here. You are so gifted!" He plants a hand on the stage, and then jumps up onto it, standing and walking up to her with a big grin. 

:'''{{#var:8765|Shannon (8765)}} has posed:'''      The driving drumbeat continues, with some strings added in to fill out the instruments, their sweet, swooping notes adding to the images painted by each word of the first verse and chorus. Plaintive notes weave in and out of the main melody, some soft, some a little stronger, but all forged into one harmonious whole. "I've taken chances some won't take Bending 'till my back would break Crying, please Oh, God, help me please Prayers whispered in the night Answered, now my heart takes flight Never alone again No, never alone again..."      The music swells, Shannon singing the refrain once more with renewed strength. There is no doubt that this song is her soul put into words, her journey to date finding voice as so many have been encouraging her to do--as you are doing even now.      There's an interlude where the drums drop off to just the bass drums, the bass guitar, and the rhythmic guitar strumming, which has been maintained through out the piece. Once more, bit by bit, the instruments are added back in, building to an intense crescendo, with Shannon breaking into the refrain a final time, the song ending with one last chord on the keyboard. The artist in question turns bright red, and she smiles a little bit. "You're far more gifted. And if I were to come here, what would happen to medical training?" 

:'''{{#var:1776|Mason (1776)}} has posed:'''     Mason shrugs, "You can heal people and sing them a song at the same time," he says. "Pretty impressive combo. He takes a few steps forward. "You shouldn't compare yourself to anyone else, your gifts are special, all of them." He reaches to take her hand and pull her in close. 

:'''{{#var:8765|Shannon (8765)}} has posed:'''      Smiling a little bit, Shannon lets herself lean in a bit. She takes care to keep her wings tucked in tightly; even invisible, Mason did not need to get a face full of feathers! "It's difficult to remember that sometimes. Something I struggle with every day. In a way, it's good I haven't been needed. But in a way, I wish I was needed and wanted sometimes." As he pulls her in, she lets the fingers of her right hand run over the keys of the new instrument, coming out with an old, familiar Billy Joel tune in a quick three-quarter meter. Oh yes. 'Piano Man'. 

:'''{{#var:1776|Mason (1776)}} has posed:'''     Mason moves in close. "Well," he says, "I want you," he whispers into her ear, and plants a soft kiss just in front of the ear on the side of her head. His right hand moves around her waist, and his left hand plays the harmony notes of the other side of the keyboard idly. 

:'''{{#var:8765|Shannon (8765)}} has posed:'''      At first, Shannon isn't quite sure how to take it as Mason moves in close like that. It's nice to be close to someone, so simply be held and to share a little bit of music. But as his kiss is felt near her ear, her hand falters on the keyboard, to the tune of discordant, jangling notes. Warning bells went off in the back of her head, but she held still for a moment, to see what would happen next. 

:'''{{#var:1776|Mason (1776)}} has posed:'''     Mason doesn't seem to respond to the notes being missed, and his right hand finds it up on her back, stroking up her spine between the wings. He gives a smile to her. "There's a green room right off the side here," he says. "Could be a good place to get comfy." He looks down into her eyes with that look that has probably won over a number of girls before. 

:'''{{#var:8765|Shannon (8765)}} has posed:'''      When Mason goes for that spot between her wings, Shannon has to fight the instinct to relax. A backrub was usually a very comforting, soothing thing, but something about this one was different. When she heard the suggestion for the green room, it clicked. Danger, Will Robinson, danger! Tensing right up, she tries to slide out of the chair, spreading her unseen wings out to their full span and starting to beat the air with them. Unfortunately, this puts Mason right in the line of fire, and is the avian equivalent of, 'Thanks, but no thanks!' 

:'''{{#var:1776|Mason (1776)}} has posed:'''     Mason doesn't expect it, as the wings shove outward, he is spun to one side, and it tosses him off balance. He lands on his rear on the stage, admittedly bewildered. "Sorry, did I tickle you?" he laughs, taking it in good nature as he sits back up, a silly smile on his face. 

:'''{{#var:8765|Shannon (8765)}} has posed:'''      Sliding out of the chair, Shannon reaches down to help him up. "I'm sorry. Didn't mean to knock you down like that... are you okay?" She carefully avoids the subject of tickling, starting to get the idea that her fellow student might be going for a little bit more than she was about to give. She does brace herself in a solid front stance as she reaches down, to make it a little more difficult to be pulled to the floor, however. 

:'''{{#var:1776|Mason (1776)}} has posed:'''     Mason takes the hand, but bears most of his own weight, knowing that he's heavier than he looks. "That's okay," he offers graciously. "Where were we? The green room. Nobody will ever look in there, you know, could have a lot of fun," the innuendo is even less veiled now. "Want to go check it out?" he asks 

:'''{{#var:8765|Shannon (8765)}} has posed:'''      The hand that had reached out to help Mason up off the ground is quickly pulled away, with Shannon taking a step backwards. She shakes her head slightly, letting out a little sigh. "Mason..." she begins, her tone low, and definitely less than pleased. "...I don't know what kind of girls you're used to out on the road, but I'm not ready for what you're implying." She hated having to tell anyone off, especially someone who had been so kind to her, but there were times it was unavoidable. She braced herself for the fallout; one could imagine her wings outspread behind her, the angel ready to fly away if necessary. 

:'''{{#var:1776|Mason (1776)}} has posed:'''     Mason looks a little confused for a moment, as if he didn't understand what she said. "I..." he holds one hand out as if he's holding an idea in it. "Wow, um...okay," he laughs, taking that same hand to scratch behind his head. "Okay. Didn't expect that," he says. "I just thought, I mean, thought you might enjoy it, you know?" He smiles again with that same disarming smile. "I'd be gentle," he adds, as if that might be the underlying concern. 

:'''{{#var:8765|Shannon (8765)}} has posed:'''      Urgh. Okay, this just got awkward. Shannon lets out a soft little sigh and shakes her head again. "Things like that can mean a lot to some people. I mean, okay, maybe for some it's just... well, fun for fun's sake, you know? But something like that to me, it's not just the body, but the heart, too." She smiles a little bit over at him, keeping her tone as gentle as possible. "The one date we were on, there was one kiss. Just one. My first one. There can't be any more first kisses. That was something special to me. It made it hurt that much more when you disappeared for those weeks you were gone. Things like that are very deeply emotional." 

:'''{{#var:1776|Mason (1776)}} has posed:'''     Mason seems to process that for a long second, and then licks his lip before answering. "Wow, I...kinda feel like a jerk, now," he admits. "I didn't mean to be any way about it," he sideways apologizes. "I uh..." he laughs again, "I gotta admit, I'm not really used to this. This...kind of conversation. I'm sorry." He presses his hands together in a praying motion and makes a slight bow. "I did not mean to overstep. And...I didn't mean to hurt you, or make you fee like you weren't special." There's something behind his eyes that wasn't there before, behind the gracious apology. It looks like pain, though he hides it well through his years of practice and performance, it's still there. 

:'''{{#var:8765|Shannon (8765)}} has posed:'''      All too aware of how much that must have hurt Mason--whether he showed it outwardly or not--Shannon steps a bit closer to offer a simple wing-hug. "You did make me feel special, though. That first day we met, that's something I'll always carry with me. It didn't matter if you were famous or who you were. You were kind and sweet, talented, funny, a lot of good things. Whenever I hear 'Rhapsody In Blue', I'll always have that to think of. That was just a tiny bit of magic, when I was new and scared, and alone. Something very precious." 

:'''{{#var:1776|Mason (1776)}} has posed:'''     Mason smiles a little lopsided again, "Well, I'm glad," he says. "I guess I'm just kind of an entitled dick," he admits. "I remember what it was like for me, you know..." he nods as if to imply the implied subject of the conversation. "First time, and after, it really kinda sucked when everything went south. Really bad. And because I guess I'm about as sharp as a rusty shovel, I never thought that I could be doin' the same thing to other people." 

:'''{{#var:8765|Shannon (8765)}} has posed:'''      It seemed Mason was starting to get the idea. Smiling somewhat, Shannon hugs him a little bit tighter, wings and all; even if they could not be seen at the moment, they could be felt, a feathery cocoon wrapped around him like a warm blanket. "We all screw up sometimes. This is gonna sound weird coming from me because I'm notorious for being hard on myself but... try not to be too hard on yourself about it. The mistakes folks like you and I make can be a lot bigger than tripping ourselves up on the sidewalk, but the thing is, we pick each other back up again." 
}}

10833/City Fall: Pawn to F8

2020-01-22T21:14:16Z

GodsKnite: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2020/01/22 |Location=Abandoned Warehouse, Lower East Side |Synopsis=Natasha investigates the mysterious chess board deliveries scheduled for Gotham..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2020/01/22
|Location=Abandoned Warehouse, Lower East Side
|Synopsis=Natasha investigates the mysterious chess board deliveries scheduled for Gotham
|Cast of Characters=1233,1092
|Tinyplot=City Fall
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     For most people, tracking the trucks might be difficult. They were unmarked box trucks, and the shipping was all legitimate, nothing under the radar. No funny business. However, for those who run international shipping companies, the resources to track and understand the shipping procedures probably helped. All of the trucks first were sent to a warehouse in the Lower East Side, and then were same day shipped to a distribution warehouse. The only odd thing is that the warehouse is not considered an active distribution center currently. It's supposed to be under rennovation. This fact even affected some of the local supply chains for Cranston shipping, causing a reroute of some goods to other centers. A fairly routine thing, really. It wouldn't normally raise any eyebrows. And normally trucks being sent to that shipment center would also not raise any eyebrows. But trucks sent during a rennovation...that's strange. 

:'''{{#var:1092|Natasha Cranston (1092)}} has posed:'''     Strange, but even that would probably have passed by anyone's eyes without remark -- if it had been anyone else. If the location hadn't already caught her attention. But as it is... Natasha reviews the schedule one more time with a raised eyebrow before reaching for the intercom to inform her long-suffering secretary about a last-minute change in schedule. She really needs to give the poor girl another raise for putting up with her... erratic... behaviour without protest.     By the time the trucks arrive at the supposedly-unused warehouse, the Shadow has been in position for quite some time, watching, waiting... 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     There are three trucks that arrive over the course of about 4 hours. No one is wearing any ninja gear this time. Just some young workers. A few of them are pierced and tattoo'd, but of course such things are not uncommon for young people today.     "So, Gotham?" one of them asks another. "I never can figure out why they send places to the centers that they do. I mean, isn't it more gas to drive them there from here?"     "Yeah, I'm sure some math whiz has a reason it's the best way to do it, just scan in the crates and we can register them for delivery."     "Which company was it?"     "Uh," the other checks the data pad in his hand. "Account 2146." 

:'''{{#var:1092|Natasha Cranston (1092)}} has posed:'''     The Shadow memorizes the number and fires off a quick text message to Oracle to investigate and come back with an actual name, but for the here and now it's not important. She follows the pair as they scan each crate, taking an interest in their observations -- and a quick look at the contents of the pad when opportunity arises... 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     For the most part, the pad is rather boring, a bunch of numbers and shipping label information, like any of dozens of pads like it throughout the city. Very valuable no doubt to those who use it, but rather useless to others, and would require the database for the company or someone who knew what the numbers referred in order to be utilized properly.     It takes them about fifteen minutes, a scanner going to each crate to log the data. They talk about the girl the younger one plans to ask out as soon as he gets up the courage, and whether the NY Giants are going to change ownership before next season. "Okay, one down, two to go," the older says, and they move to the second truck to do the same, leaving the door to the first one open. Probably not protocol, but there doesn't seem to be much danger of being robbed at the moment. 

:'''{{#var:1092|Natasha Cranston (1092)}} has posed:'''     Having an excellent memory for shipping numbers and label formats helps -- and the Shadow has multiple venues of information to turn those numbers into actual names at her leisure later. For now, this is a good opportunity to take a closer look at the crates and see if they can be unsealed without being quickly detected.     Cranston Shipping uses a particularly tamper-resistant sealing protocol, but it's also somewhat more expensive and there have been more than a few discussions with the board about excessive paranoia and its effect on profit margins, but sometimes it's good to be the one whose word is law. This, however, isn't a Cranston subsidiary, so... 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     The crates are sitting on flats, not particularly tamper proof, but they are wrapped in celophane, a very low tech version of tamper resistance. Sure it's easy to get through, but then everyone knows unless you wrap it back. Well, assuming they are paying attention. 

:'''{{#var:1092|Natasha Cranston (1092)}} has posed:'''     Low-tech but effective... Unless you've worked with it enough to know its limitations. A truck like this usually carries a spare cellophane roll because it doesn't take up much space, and if you're careful with a knife and even more careful rewrapping it, you can make it hard to notice... It all depends on how much time she has, but they did mention two entire trucks more to check. 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     Indeed, there is a spare roll in the corner of the truck, not secured. Inside the crate, sure enough, there are the chess sets, still in their boxes and ready for distribution to...whoever they are going to. Nestled tightly and compact, they sit ready to be opened by whoever the purchaser or giftee might be.     It seems that each of them have an address already. Not all remarkable names, all of them are addressed in Gotham. A couple might be noteworthy community leaders, but no one that is a crime boss or anything of that nature. People with money, people with influence over the city. These seem to be the targets. 

:'''{{#var:1092|Natasha Cranston (1092)}} has posed:'''     ... And after what the coins held, and that mysterious woman's comments earlier, almost certainly more magical shenanigans are afoot. One box is quickly pocketed, the remainder rearranged to make its absence less obvious, and then it's a quick but thorough cellophane rewrap before the Shadow makes her way back out to see what the scanner duo has gotten up to... 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     As the wrap is applied, the sound of stretching cellophane across the pallet draws attention/ "Did you hear something?" the younger asks.     "Like what?"     "Like someone messing with the wrap or somethin'," They are coming out of one of the second truck, and heading back to the first truck. 

:'''{{#var:1092|Natasha Cranston (1092)}} has posed:'''     On the one hand, there aren't many places inside the truck that *aren't* shadowed, so chances of being detected are low. The roll is replaced on the bed of the truck, half-wedged between two crates where it could easily have rolled while the truck was in motion, and the Shadow crouches behind a third, waiting for an opportune moment to pass just in case one of them is brighter than they've so far been and breaks out a flashlight. 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     The two men look back into the truck, and wander around. "Probably another one of those stupid rats," the older says, "Go hit the lights on the truck and see if we can get it out. Nobody likes finding a dead rat in their shipment.     The younger nods, and disappears around the side of the door, presumably headed to the cab to turn on the interior light for the truck. 

:'''{{#var:1092|Natasha Cranston (1092)}} has posed:'''     That's the Shadow's cue to leave. A moment's distraction of the older, a sound he thinks he heard, and she slips past before the lights go on.     She has what she came for. Now she just needs to find someone who can tell her what it is she has... And a great number of Gothamites will need to be checked on. 
}}

10425/At one with Nature

2019-12-14T02:25:05Z

GodsKnite: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2019/12/13 |Location=Backyard - Xavier's School |Synopsis=Mason and Vi meet for the first time |Cast of Characters=1776,9031 |pretty=yes }} {{Poses..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2019/12/13
|Location=Backyard - Xavier's School
|Synopsis=Mason and Vi meet for the first time
|Cast of Characters=1776,9031
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:1776|Mason (1776)}} has posed:'''     Yes it's cold. It may keep a lot of students inside, but outside, past the Christmas decorations of the back yard and past the less appealing garden, with its dormant foilage, Mason makes his way along the edge of the tree line where the undeveloped corners of the property lie. He has his hands in his pockets, and his head is tilted toward the ground as he walks. He stops, kicking at something along the ground, and then bends to pick it up, examining it. 

:'''{{#var:9031|Vi (9031)}} has posed:''' Vi made it back to the school earlier in the morning than most like to be out and about. Though she's taken advantage of odd hours all of her life, and she's found nighttime is the easiest to travel between the school and the city. The morning was spent at schoolwork, which is often separate from the other students given how far behind them she is despite being old enough to be graduated. After lunch she slips away, the events of the bank robbery the day before are weighing heavily on her mind. Once outside the door, she drops a heavy metal washer and pushes off it hard to launch herself in the air, and a push on some steel girders in the school help propel her out across the yard. The washer is pulled back to her hand for reuse even as a second is pulled from her pouch and shot off ahead of her. Vi is getting decent at traveling like this now, enough that the tiny bit of pewter she burns is to let her not notice the cold as much. She heads off for the farther reaches of the school's grounds, traveling in ballistic arcs as she uses three washers at a time, pulling one back to her hand once past it to place further ahead where she'll need her next push to stay airborne. Up ahead she notices a figure trundling through the snow, and after a moment's thought, the next washer is placed to let her change course slightly towards them. 

:'''{{#var:1776|Mason (1776)}} has posed:'''     Mason doesn't seem to be looking up as Vi approaches, and he is holding... something from the ground. He sniffs it, and...did he just take a bite out of it? It isn't until Vi is almost directly over him that he sees her approach, causing him to jump. He slips, and the teen celebrity finds him tail first falling into the snow, "Oh, jeez," he exclaims, uncertain in his moderate surprise whether he's under attack, or it's just another day at the mansion with flying mutants. 

:'''{{#var:9031|Vi (9031)}} has posed:''' The sound of a heavy metal washer, larger than a silver dollar and thicker might be heard as it shoots into the snow about 20 yards away from Mason, about where the flying figure is heading. As Vi falls towards the ground, her body slows quickly until she nearly hovers before dropping the last foot or two to the ground. The washer flies up out of the snow, and she has to move her hand over to her chest to catch it. It is pushed down into a slot in the top of a beautiful leather belt pouch she's wearing around her waist. The girl is about nineteen, but small enough one could be forgiven for thinking her younger. Dark hair, worn beneath a grey stocking cap. A navy blue winter jacket, but no gloves, which might be why she stuffs her hands in the jacket pockets after giving a wave towards Mason. "Hey. Sorry if I surprised you. Didn't know anyone else was out this way," she say. Vi hesitates where she's at, not moving nearer until she finds out if it's ok. 

:'''{{#var:1776|Mason (1776)}} has posed:'''     Mason laughs, "Oh, um, no worries," he says, picking himself up off the ground, pretending that it was nothing. "I'm just horribly clumsy and prone to falling on my butt frequently. The thing he holds in his hand that he took a bite out of was...limestone, or so it looks. Instead of being broken the way one might expect, it actually has a bite indention, as one might expect if it were a block of cheese. "Don't think I've met you here before," he offers. "Mason, Mason Steele." He gives a lick of his teeth, as if checking for any foreign objects, before flashing a pearly white smile. 

:'''{{#var:9031|Vi (9031)}} has posed:''' The usual look of recognition that so often comes with others hearing his name is missing from Vi, though the introduction still draws him a soft, friendly smile from the petite brunette. "Hello Mason. I'm Vi," she offers without providing a last name. "I don't think we've met either. But there's so many people at the school, I've been guilty of being forgetful trying to keep all the names and faces straight," she tells him. "I'm getting better at it though," she tells him. Vi glances at the piece of rock he's holding. "Do you eat rocks?" she asks, expression not just curious, but a little excited. "Does it fuel your mutant power? I do too. I mean, not rocks. Metal. Just for my power, I eat normal food to not keel over from hunger," she explains. 

:'''{{#var:1776|Mason (1776)}} has posed:'''     It isn't too common that someone doesn't give Mason a recognizing look, and while mildly curious, he doesn't press the matter. In fact, there's a certain relief that seems to hit his face, though without the context it might just seem that he looks relieved to meet her. An odd sentiment perhaps. "Yeah, if can't remember someone's name, I just say 'can you help me with your name'," he suggests. "Then people think they are being helpful, it's a psychological trick, works wonders, I-" he looks at the rock, and turns a little red. "Um, I usually try to keep that to myself," he says. "It doesn't fuel my power or anything," he says. "I'm...not sure why I do it. It's like wanting candy. Weird, I know." He looks a little uncomfortable, and happy to move back to her pwoer. "You eat metal then?" He arches his brow. "That...makes me feel better," he laughs. "I never tried eating metal. Dunno if that's a good idea." 

:'''{{#var:9031|Vi (9031)}} has posed:''' The tip on how to politely ask for a person's name gets an expression from Vi as if she thinks that is going to be a handy one. "Thank you, I'll have to remember," she says, giving a quick nod, and the kind of smile that a few months ago would have just been kept inside, but that is starting to leak out more often from Vi. Vi glances over at the limestone again. "I don't know. I don't really think that's weird at all," she says. Vi glances back in the direction of the school, probably either not visible, or only tiny bits of it through the trees. "Compared to other things at the school? I don't even think it would make me glance twice, except for it kind of being similar to me," she says. And indeed, there's a sense of comfort from Vi, and she moves over nearer if Mason doesn't seem to mind, closing the space she'd left to safely land without possibly hitting him. "Well, more like swallow. I mean I don't chew it," she says. She reaches into the strap for the belt pouch and pulls out a small vial about as big of her thumb. It has liquid in it, and as she shakes it, there's metalic flakes and pebbles in there too. "After I swallow it I can feel and it'll fuel my powers," she tells him. "Though too much will make me sick, so I don't think I actually digest it." 

:'''{{#var:1776|Mason (1776)}} has posed:'''     Mason nods, "That's... complicated sounding," he says, thinking about it. "So...how did you know you had the powers?" he asks. "Seems like a weird thing to just stumble across." He seems to be working through this carefully. "Not that I'm callin' yo weird, just...How did that all go down anyway?" 

:'''{{#var:9031|Vi (9031)}} has posed:''' Vi gives a tiny side to side motion of her head, with a nod at the end that might come across as Mason being a bit right there. "When I was younger, I started noticing this warmth I could feel inside. I don't know how else to describe it. Kind of like if you eat something that totally satisfies you, how your stomach feels. Except, different still. Well, anyway, I didn't know what it was but one day I was kind of focusing on it and suddenly it was like... if I'd been deaf and could suddenly hear. I could sense... things around me. And I focused on one to try to figure out what I was feeling and this metal mug flew across the room at me. After that the warm feeling was gone. Used up. It came back after about a week. I wouldn't find out for years, but the iron in the drinking water, once it built up enough, it reached a level I could use it for my mutant power. Which, I had no idea mutants even existed, let alone I was one," she says, scuffing the toe of a boot in the snow. "The other metals... weren't as easy to learn," she says in a small voice. 

:'''{{#var:1776|Mason (1776)}} has posed:'''     "Oh, that's pretty smart," Mason says, "I'd probably never figure that out. Wait, wait...Never heard of mutants? Where were you growing up that you've never heard of mutants?" he asks, looking askance. "I mean, the mutant debate has been front in center of politics for like...longer than we've been alive." He seems to not recognize he may be about to strike a sensitive subject. And he doesn't look like the type that could relate to such tramatic events. 

:'''{{#var:9031|Vi (9031)}} has posed:''' The toe of her boot pokes at the snow a little bit more, moving it back and forth. She used to hate winter. It was when the most people died. But here, it's different. Even the snow itself. It's all white and beautiful, instead of a dirty mess with the ash from the nearby volcanoes mixed in. Mason's question set her thoughts off on that tangent, and it draws her back as well. Vi hesitates, having had teachers step in on other student's questions about her past so she wouldn't have to answer. Maybe it's him eating the rocks. Or maybe she's just ready to have someone else besides Samuel and a few teachers know. "I grew up in really different place. It was a slave labor camp, to run a mine and a foundry for some... bad people. I didn't know about anywhere but there, until I escaped it," she says. "Sometimes people talked about places outside, but... ok I suppose I knew it must be real. They'd bring in new people now and then and they had to come from somewhere. But you just kind of tell yourself it's just crazy talk. Because that was all I knew," she says, her head down for most of that. Vi peeks up at Mason then, bracing herself to be looked at like she's some kind of freakazoid. 

:'''{{#var:1776|Mason (1776)}} has posed:'''     "Oh." Mason looks rather uncomfortable. "I um, sorry," he sentiments. Like most in the land of the free, that's normally just something from history books or another part of the world. "I didn't mean to like, open bad stuff and all," he says. "But don't look all mopey, right? You are out now," he offers hopefully. "I can't say I know anything about that, and I hear it like, never leaves you and stuff, but at least you can move forward," he offers. "Pretty girl like you, won't have any trouble making a better life here in America," he suggests. 

:'''{{#var:9031|Vi (9031)}} has posed:''' Vi gives a little shrug and a nod of her head. "It's ok. It isn't something most of the school knows. I don't know if it's better if people know or not. If they do, some of them will probably look at me...I don't know, different. Or, leave them not knowing and they think I'm slow because I'm just learning to read. And don't know where places are they talk about. Or... what a giraffe is when I see one for the first time," she tells him. Giraffes. SO cool. As Mason turns to flirting, it succeeds in getting a little smile back from her, though also the sense she isn't really used to hearing such things. "Thanks. I'm learning. I have classes at the school. And I'm working with Jamie in the city, so I get to see what life is like here," she tells him. Vi pulls off her stocking cap, running fingers through her hair before doffing it again. "So, um, what about you? Where that I haven't heard of are you from? And... you've been at the school for awhile I guess?" 

:'''{{#var:1776|Mason (1776)}} has posed:'''     "Me?" Mason says, "I'm from LA. Not the biggest music city, I know, but it's worked out pretty well," he says with a lopsided smile. "I play music, do tours and stuff. Like people you hear on spotify and stuff," he mentions. "Anybody show you Spotify yet?" he asks. "I Certainly hope that they've at least shown you music." He lifts a rock, "I won't tell anybody about your stuff if you promise not to tell the teachers I'm eating rocks, sound fair?" 

:'''{{#var:9031|Vi (9031)}} has posed:''' Vi smiles as she listens, her cheeks turning just a little rosy out in the cold, though she still has that very light burn of pewter going so doesn't really feel it. "I got a tour at the school when I first arrived," she confirms, apparently misunderstanding the way he used the term. Probably not knowing the other usage even exists. The young woman's smile grows a little more. "I've enjoyed listening to music. People keep talking about all sorts of different kinds but I can't tell which is which yet. I just know I've heard a lot that I like," she says. A shake of her head is given about Spotify. "No, no one has shown it to me. Is it here at the school?" she asks, head tilting to the side a bit. "And I won't tell anyone. Though I don't see what's wrong with it. I'm not sure I'd like that, but... was it tasty then?" she asks. Vi glances at the school. "There's so much food here. It's like being in a whole different world," she says. 

:'''{{#var:1776|Mason (1776)}} has posed:'''     "It...um, it tastes like a rock," Mason shrugs. "I dunno, it's like, a craving. You know how like, you sometimes want a certain food and you just can't stop thinking about it? It's like that." He shrugs. "We will get you set up with spotify. It's a web site that lets you play literally anything that's ever been produced through a record label. You can listen to anything at all. My stuff's on there, other famous artists, all the way back to hundreds of years ago. You'll love it. And who cares if you know what the genres are, if music is good, it's good that's all that should matter." He looks at the rock, and decides that he may as well take another bite, she alreay knows he eats them. As he bites it, there is the sound of grinding rock as he chews it, clearly it's rock, but he does it as if there is no trouble with it at all. 

:'''{{#var:9031|Vi (9031)}} has posed:''' Vi smiles as Mason mentions his music is out there. "I'll have to go listen to it sometime," she tells him, before something he said clicks in her head. "Other famous artists? Do people know who you are then? I mean, outside the school?" Vi asks. "Jamie said he'd take me to a place that plays... what was the word," she says, pausing and her eyes flitting about as she tries to remember. "Jazz...?" she says slowly, as if not sure she's remembering right. "Would they play any of your songs?" She watches as he eats the limestone, just a little curious but her expression not showing she's put out by the sight, even when the sounds of rock being chewed happen. Though she does extinguish her tin until he's done, dulling her senses because it's kind of loud in her ears otherwise. "I should probably start to head back to the school. I wanted to come out and... well, I want to learn how to use my powers better. There was a... a thing yesterday that happened and I realized I'm not really sure how to use it best, sometimes," she says. 

:'''{{#var:1776|Mason (1776)}} has posed:'''     "Well, not to brag, but a lot do," Mason admits. "But no, they won't play my stuff at a jazz club. Jazz is awesome because they just make it up on the spot. They may have a song they are playing, but it won't matter, because they just think up new ways to play it. Real artists. Jazz is nice." He nods, "Oh, that's fine," he says. "I probably should go back in and get warmed up as well." He tosses the limestone on the ground casually. "Been good to meet you, Vi," he offers, holding out a hand as if for a handshake. 
}}

10420/City Fall: Never Leave a Good Thing Alone

2019-12-14T02:22:04Z

GodsKnite: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2019/12/13 |Location=StockGen Labs - New York City |Synopsis=Doc Ock and Grant perform a sting operation on StockGen Labs to try to learn more abou..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2019/12/13
|Location=StockGen Labs - New York City
|Synopsis=Doc Ock and Grant perform a sting operation on StockGen Labs to try to learn more about a way to hurt the Foot Clan's control of NYC.
|Cast of Characters=1233,8908,7952
|Tinyplot=City Fall
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     Shredder promised that the city would be safer with him in control. It's...not wrong, really. Crime is down, at least reported crime is down. Murders were up for a short while. In fact, they were REALLY up for a few weeks. That's slowed down now as well. However, as with any empire, more people means more leaks.     StockGen Labs seems to be in close proximity to several Foot sightings lately. Not ninjas, but the rather mutated forms of the mutanimals that serve the Shredder. TCRI, the robotics division, is close by as well, so it's difficult to say which is the source of the attention, but given the presence of the scientific monstrosities that the Foot employs, it's almost certain that at least StockGen is involved in whatever is happening. The genetics lab has no paper trails to lead to the Foot, but that only means good track covering.     Tonight, however, it is a different crowd that walks the darker streets. The Purple Dragons. A woman with white and black striped hair, a man who looks like an absolute mountain, standing almost seven feet in height with blond hair, an african american with a shaved head and a goatee, and...oddly a middle-aged man who looks like he's not a gang member at all. They walk down the street, speaking in low tones as the night traffic passes them in the moderately quiet commercial part of town. They stop across the street from the laboratory. 

:'''{{#var:8908|Doctor Octopus (8908)}} has posed:''' The animal morphs are a problem. Being of the premier minds on the planet with high competency in genetics and biology (can't maintain a neural interface without intimate knowledge of brain and spine chemistry), Otto has decided to take on the challenge of finding ways to mitigate -or entirely remove- that advantage. That meant getting into the StockGen Labs in a way that gives him time to search for and retrieve the genetics data he needs to create a toxin or antidote. Which means a diversion, followed by a one shot lockdown deep in the heart of the complex to find the answers he seeks.. On the rooftops above, Otto has gathered his teams. A lookout watches the streets to make sure of no surprises. Meanwhile, Doctor Octopus stands on his own two feet as he addresses the dozen or so people around him. "I don't care if you kill any of them. What matters is you keep their attention on /you/." Otto glances to each of those involved. It's a mix of Octoboys, Kingpin mercenaries... and the new guy, Grant. Grant can see himself reflected in the safety goggles the Doctor wears, and his tentacles are fully retracted, but visible from his back. Even from here, those tentacles look mobile. And intimidating to an extreme. Doctor Octopus is a name that's been in the shadows for a while now. He's been a spectre behind the scenes in a very small part of New York that the Octoboys claimed for himself. It's only recently that he's started to be very visible... and the few rumors that have popped up about him make him out to be extremely dangerous in combat with those tentacles. To the point he's engaged the Foot -including Shredder himself- to a standstill multiple times, and has lived to tell the tale. Whatever his reasons, this operation makes it clear Doctor Octopus is /not/ happy with the Foot clan. "I need as much time as I can get to find the answers I seek. If I am successful, a major advantage of the cretin will be nullified." Otto starts to walk along the rooftop, to one side. "If you get outnumbered, run. Even a chase will give me time to do what I need to do." With that, Otto brings down all four tentacles, and begins to leap towards the other roof, once he has a clear eyeline. Next up, hacking security. 

:'''{{#var:7952|Grant Washington (7952)}} has posed:''' Standing among the other men who are geared up and ready to mount an attack upon the Stockgen building, Grant nods his head at Doctor Octopus and says, "Roger, sir. We'll hit them hard and keep them busy as long as we can." There's no fear or apprehension in him, more like a sense of building excitement. He briefly checks out the weapon in his hands, an H&K 416 with an underbarrel grenade launcher, making sure that both weapons are loaded and that the safeties are engaged on them. Looking around at the other mercs and the Octoboys he says, "This should be easy enough. We act like we're storming the front of the building, kill anybody in the way. As soon as we're in a good position with plenty of cover we'll hunker down for a little while, then bug out when they arrive in force." He's confident giving orders. Leading the way, Grant moves his men into position, shouldering his weapon and saying, "As soon as you've got eyes on the enemy feel fire at will. Remember to stick to cover, if you get dropped you better hope your buddies like you enough to extract your ass." 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     The light changes, and the mountain of a man starts forward. Those familiar with the underworld might recognize Arnold Jones. Nobody calls him that. Ever. Hun is the name he goes by, and he's the leader of the dragons. He's also been with Shredder for a long time, so his affiliation is hardly secret, and he didn't gain his reputation in NYC by looking tough. He would likely be able to hold his own against the Kingpin if he needed to.     The others...they are not known. The man who looks a bit less like a gang member wears a light brown trench coat over a sports jacket and a dress shirt with the top button undone, and is first into view of the firing team. Maybe in his mid-fifties, his hands in his pockets as he casually walks near the Hun. Maybe a businessman? Maybe not. He doesn't look like a super rich one at least.     They seem to be unaware of the operations that happen above them, though the two bringing up the rear seem far mor...alert. Fidgety a little bit perhaps. 

:'''{{#var:8908|Doctor Octopus (8908)}} has posed:''' First things first. The first layer of security. He didn't have schematics to make this infiltration perfect, but he was a genius. No doubt he could jury jig his way past the technology. Scanners, weapons, and other anti-intruder devices that are spotted are immediately grabbed onto and crushed by those four tentacles, his focus being momentarily wholly taken up by the pursuit. Hopefully, he won't have alerted anyone already. 

:'''{{#var:7952|Grant Washington (7952)}} has posed:''' "Drop them," orders Grant as the older guy moves into line of sight of his shooters. The mercenary captain then turns his head slightly and yells as loudly as he can, "Advance on the objective! Fire at will!" Then it comes time for him to prove why he's so valuable, especially as a distraction. Aguila 6 reaches the side of the rooftop and steps off of it. The fall would severely injure a normal man in all likelihood, but Grant's cybernetics allow him to land safely, tucking into a roll and coming up with his weapon at the ready. The rifle barks as he engages the patrolling force, firing controlled pairs towards the more alert looking pair of bangers. 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     The man in the trench coat looks up as his peripheral catches Grant dropping from the sky. He looks mostly unconcerned, rather blaise, while Hun, his larger counterpart does react. "Who are you?" Hun demands. "Bud, you messin' with the wrong folks, Shredder know about this?" he asks, a toothy mean smile on his face. "You think you gonna threaten some of his and get away with it?" The man in the trench coat moves in front of Hun, but lets him do the talking. What does the man in the trench coat do? He get's shot. In the head. His neck snaps back a little, but when he recovers, it seems he's completely uninjured. A rather unusual scenario. Meanwhile, the woman and black man behind them back up a little. "Shit, it's the Friends of Humanity!" the woman shouts, her voice quite frightened. She starts to run, not toward the building, but directly back across the street. The black man instead runs to hide behind a mailbox. Doesn't seem like these four are the most organized of gang bangers.     Up on the roof, There isn't much to be seen, all of the stun weapons are imbedded into the structure, making it difficult to find things to crush. The door to the rest of the building is rather unguarded, a blue fingerprint pad, rather industrial strength, seems to be the only gatekeeper to the door. 

:'''{{#var:8908|Doctor Octopus (8908)}} has posed:''' Keeping an eye on the rooftop around him, Doctor Octopus takes out a device from the backpack he brought along, and begins to take the scanner apart to splice into it. Next step? Trick it at the firmware level that everything is legit, and someone legit is trying to gain entry. Hopefully, he won't need to rip the door out of the wall instead. 

:'''{{#var:7952|Grant Washington (7952)}} has posed:''' Looking at the big guy, then at the dude who didn't die like he's supposed to, Grant speaks to them, "Ever heard of corporate espionage? We're who you call when it's time to go loud." Then he opens up with his rifle again, trying to gun down the guy taking cover behind the mailbox. As soon as he's ripped off a couple of rounds Washington starts towards the guy in the trench coat. If bullets didn't work on him it might be time to try something a bit more old fashioned. The rifle is slung and the merc starts to take on a stance reminiscent of a wrestler. Meanwhile, some of the other dudes will start shooting a bunch while others start to advance out of their building, looking for cover on the street to protect them from the fusillade that's sure to come. 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     While the firmware seems rather difficult to hack at this location, it does seem that it can be prevented from sending a signal at all, which makes it possible to gain the entry without detection. The door pops open, revealing the rather unadorned staircase to the rest of the building.     The man behind the mailbox takes a round to the arm, and...the mailbox flies forward, hurtling as a projectile. The woman dives into a car that comes screeching to a halt, passing through it without any incident. A moment later, she is opening the door on the other side, and continuing on her way. Looks like she is primarily interested in escape, but before she completely leaves the scene, she pulls out her phone, and starts to frantically dial on it.     Hun leaps forward, letting his human shield take the bullets and then diving past him, a hamfist punch coming around as he tries to slug Grant. 

:'''{{#var:8908|Doctor Octopus (8908)}} has posed:''' "If it can be made by humanity, it can be unmade." Doctor Octopus muses to himself. "Amateurs." As the door opens, Doctor Octopus begins to walk inside, his tentacles coming up into ready position to take on any devices or personnel he finds. Security get a shove into the wall. Officers get searched. Any scientists With keycards get stripped of those keycards and knocked out... and if they look like they're higher on the totem pole? Doctor Octopus is going to do some interrogation. He doesn't want to search the whole facility after all. Just the genetics lab. Eventually, someone is going to have empathy and want to stop him from massacring the people inside. 

:'''{{#var:7952|Grant Washington (7952)}} has posed:''' When it comes to fist fighting Grant is no slouch. Hun may be big, mean and skilled but Grant is superhuman and it shows when he ducks under the blow and returns the attack with a quick punch combination of his own, strikes flying like machine gun fire. The other gunmen open up on the two gang bangers. Some of their rounds tearing into the would be escape vehicle while others send bullets towards the dude that slammed the mailbox. 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     It's a mostly empty office inside, but the security is rather sophisticated. Sophisticated enough that it doesn't announce the security breach when Ock comes barreling through the hallways. It's quiet inside, no security personell, no scientists after work, it's empty.     The large leader of the Dragons takes the blows to the chest, stumbling back a little. "Oh, come on sugar, that all you got?" It looks like it hurt a bit more than he likes to let on, though. He certainly isn't a slouch. He uses those huge arms to try to catch Grant in a bear hug.     The car is shot quite thoroughly, and the poor passerby in the car will be lucky if he just has a trip to the hospital, given how many rounds he just took. The woman tucks through a wall with her phone, the bullets slamming into the stonework of the building.     The man who seems bulletproof moves to put himself as a shield to the telekinetic, as his trench coat is shredded by the rounds tearing through it, leaving him seemingly uninjured. He isn't fast, he doesn't seem particularly combat adept, he just...doesn't get hurt. The telekinetic happily keeps the coover and with a tilt of his hand the mailbox comes slinging in the direction of one of the gunmen even as a bullet makes it through to hit him in the leg, dropping him to one knee. 

:'''{{#var:8908|Doctor Octopus (8908)}} has posed:''' First, the security hub. Otto goes through the building as fast as possible on his tentacles and moves to disable security at the source. Most likely everything here is password protected though, and he'll need to destroy the equipment to prevent further use... but who knows, perhaps he'll be able to break that encryption easily. After that, it's a matter of exploring the building until he finds the archives or databases he requires... and dumps the entire contents into the Hard Drive he brought along. Genetics data first... then everything else. Given the lack of security inside, there's a good chance he'll be able to work uninterrupted, even. 

:'''{{#var:7952|Grant Washington (7952)}} has posed:''' "I like your attitude, big guy. You survive this and I might have a job for you," Grant chuckles as he rolls beneath Hun's arms, trying to come up behind the monster of a man to get control of his back. Washington is intent on going for the throat, aiming to get a metal arm around his adversary to try to choke him out. The other criminals with him have mostly taken to the street, using vehicles and the sides of buildings as cover. One of them calls out to Grant, "Dude's bulletproof! Can you take care of him?" The speaker is then struck in the face with a mailbox and drops to the ground, clearly out of the action. Possibly dead. 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     As the Doctor searches for the security system, he finds a hub. It's not big, and it doesn't take a technical expert to realize that he system is decentralized. All the same, as he goes through the halls, it is fairly quiet, and so he is able to roam the halls freely to search for the genetics lab. It takes a couple of minutes, though, as it still requires searching the actual building.     Down on the street below, Hun finds an arm wrapped around his neck, and he growls through the choke. "And betray...Shredder?" he laughs, "I'd be safer...taking a bullet, to the head..." He tucks forward, leaping up and doing something that's likely to hurt for both men, he flips forward so that he will fall on his back, holding Grant's arm so that he will take the cybernetically enhanced soldier with him.     The telekinetic runs for cover, taking the momentary break in fire as the human shield runs with him, glancing back at Hun. Hopefully he'll be fine as long as he is in melee combat so they don't fire on their own. The telekinetic doesn't have such luxuries. 

:'''{{#var:8908|Doctor Octopus (8908)}} has posed:''' Nothing for it then, he'll just have to break security systems as he finds them. They'll already know he is here. Lucky for Doctor Octopus that he isn't a normal human, and those tentacles are incredibly fast and agile. It'll make searching the building much quicker compared to someone on foot. Of course, he doesn't have the ability to connect to technology beyond his harness... so actually finding what he needs? Will require a plain old fashioned hack. Which is why be brought along some specialist equipment for the job. 

:'''{{#var:7952|Grant Washington (7952)}} has posed:''' "I'll let you know when he's taken care of," Grant boasts as he tries to constrict the big guy's airway, holding on as tightly as he can. That tight grip works against him as Hun grabs his arm and slams them both into the ground. The mercenary let's out a loud gasp but does his best to maintain the chokehold through the pain and sudden expulsion of air from his lungs. The gunmen take some more pot shots at the invincible fellow and his buddy, but they don't leave cover. They were told to hunker down, after all. One of them moves to check on the guy that got hit with the mailbox and yells, "I think his brains are coming out!" 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     Hun is not cybernetically enhanced, he is much stronger than the average person. He rolls over, to his belly and back to his back again, trying to get Grant off, but it seems he doesn't have the strength to actually peel the man's cybernetic arm free. "Strong...sonuva..." He never gets to finish it, as he's choked to unconsciousness.     The mailbox man slids up against a pillar that is in front of the building, and blindly flings the mailbox again in the direction of the gunfire. It isn't very precise, though, as he can't see his target, nor the object he's controlling. "Can we get out of here?" he asks the older man.     "Yeah, I think that'd be best, Hun is down! Where's Stacy?"     Meanwhile, a sound starts to echo through the streets. Cops are on their way.     Inside, a series of units are found, though all of them encrypted. The placard on the door to the room declares it to be something called the Utromium Research Center. Utroumium sounds like an element, but it's certainly not one that's on the periodic table. 

:'''{{#var:8908|Doctor Octopus (8908)}} has posed:''' Otto doesn't need to decrypt anything. He just need to find what he's looking for. Unfortunately, that means he needs to grab everything and start the tedious process of decryption later. Taking the storage unit out of his backpack, Doctor Octopus begins to connect all the cables to various IO slots. His real hands begin the work of preparing the download, while his tentacles start building the connections, whether proper, or improvised on the fly. He didn't have much time before the police showed up outside, and they swept the building. He paid the mercenaries well enough to take on the police for a time, but he's not about escalate this if he doesn't have to. From the inside, Grant can hear over the commlink, "I've found what I'm looking for, and I'm downloading. I need just a bit more time." Otto informs Grant firmly. 

:'''{{#var:7952|Grant Washington (7952)}} has posed:''' After Hun goes to sleep it takes Grant a few seconds to get to his feet,"I think that big bastard cracked my back plate." Breathing a little heavily he moves to take cover behind a vehicle, reading his rifle again. To the other gunmen he says, "We'll see if Mr. Bulletproof can handle a 40mm grenade fired down his throat if he shows up again." Grant begins to chuckle to himself until he hears the sirens and Doc Ock's words, replying over the radio, "Understood, sir. We've got your back." "When the cops show up light then up. Kill them or force them to seek cover. Be ready to move if their tactical teams show up," the mercenary commander orders as he takes aim in the direction the cops are most likely to approach from, reaching forward towards the trigger of his grenade launcher. 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     Various laptops and desktops have several types of connectors, but those sentient appendages do their work, enabling the stripping of information in raw data format to the unit Octavius carries.     The man in the shredded trenchcoat steps back out, and holds his hands out. "Want to shoot something? Go ahead!" he calls out, and the telekinetic takes the opportunity to start running. The older man charges forward, heading for Grant at full tilt. He doesn't seem too terribly fast, he runs the way one might expect a fifty year old man to run, with a determined, yet probably not intimidating look on his face. 

:'''{{#var:8908|Doctor Octopus (8908)}} has posed:''' As the process starts, Otto turns around and looks over to the various exits, keeping watch for himself as he awaits the download complete ping from the unit monitor. His teeth grit in frustration from how long this was taking already. 

:'''{{#var:7952|Grant Washington (7952)}} has posed:''' THUMP! Goes the grenade launcher as a 40mm high explosive dual purpose grenade streaks towards the fellow in the trench coat. No matter what it hits there will be a terrible noise as the explosive detonates, likely leaving those not used to such things temporarily shaken. The big boom leaves the other gunmen ducking for cover as Grant reloads. 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     "Oh shi-" The man in the trenchcoat's eyes go wide as the grenade flies at him, the explosion sending him back and into the air away from the mercenary. The lights can be seen as the police cars start to show up, two, followed by four more, the SWAT team isn't here yet, but surely will be soon.     Ding. The download is complete. 

:'''{{#var:8908|Doctor Octopus (8908)}} has posed:''' "I'm done. Start your retreat. When they chase you, I'll leave in the chaos left behind." Otto orders of the team outside, his tentacles grabbing the various connectors quickly as his main hands put the unit itself back into the backpack. Within moments, Otto is heading back to the rooftop, and will be preparing to jump in a direction opposite the fighting below. 
}}

10395/Toys on Rockefeller

2019-12-11T23:22:38Z

GodsKnite: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2019/12/11 |Location=Rockefeller Center, Midtown Manhattan |Synopsis=Some of the local New Yorkers work together on a children's toy drive. |Cast o..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2019/12/11
|Location=Rockefeller Center, Midtown Manhattan
|Synopsis=Some of the local New Yorkers work together on a children's toy drive.
|Cast of Characters=1776,145,99,8765,7931
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:1776|Mason (1776)}} has posed:'''     School is done at Julliard, so Mason has only his regular studies to attend to. Beside that, his social standing and manager's desire for him to make an appearance to something has meant that it's time for him to do some community service. Red and white ski cap on his head, and a matching red and white reindeer sweater and designer jeans, the blond teen star looks like he's ready for a parade. He's not singing, though, not today. Today is the big Rockefeller Toy Drive.     FAO Schwartz has a set up, and half the store seems to be available to purchase for children in need, who have no toys. They have pledged for every purchased toy, they will donate a toy to the same cause. Several celebrities have shown up in support, but during the busy rush of the daytime, the attendance is down. Oddly enough, most of the attendees currently are not of the upper echelon, but the working class, coming to see what they can do to help others in need.     Mason currently walks back and forth, greeting people, smiling that pearly smile, and helping load toys into a giant Santa Sleigh there to show off the toys that have been donated, wrapped in red and green and white and blues, shining like the massive Christmas tree which oversees the festivities. 

:'''{{#var:145|Illyana Rasputin (145)}} has posed:''' No one is going to likely mistake Illyana for some kind of pop star. Maybe, if they're desperate, the girl in the oversized sweater could be mistaken for a model of the Eastern European variety. Unfortunately, she needs another six inches to be fully in runway territory. The swish of her hair against her shoulder blades speaks to a fairly quick pace used to bring her through the packed throngs at the backside of the massive complex. She ignores the figure skaters, having next to no time for the parade of trees and banners shimmering in the daylight. A small backpack riding on her shoulder has the blocky shape of cardboard packaging. The weather isn't nearly cold enough to have a red nose, but she breathes out in shorter puffs that illustrate irritation or the speed of her pace. Light on her feet, she negotiates the slippery concrete around shoppers and gawkers alike. "Move," she tells someone staring at the growing pile of presents and the tree. Not exactly nice, but clearing her throat and waiting for a few seconds haven't budged the dazzled pair of twenty-somethings. When they glare at her, she bares her teeth. "Special Christmas delivery." The Russian accent or her glare might get them moving right along. Who knows? 

:'''{{#var:99|Mercy Thompson (99)}} has posed:''' Mercy's here too, she's got a holdall full of wrapped toys. Several of them have Montana postmarks, yes, she reached out to her pack to help. In return she's donated toys to the pack. Montana's got a lot of shops if anyone knows where to look....and growing up there Mercy does. Missoula, to be exact. So here she is, back in NYC. She's smiling and dressed not in her coveralls, but winter gear, a ski jacket (yeah like this coyote skis...), warm pants and snow boots. Because traipsing four feet's worth of snow in coveralls and steel toe boots....not working. Instead....Mercy's still wearing her coat since it smells of her pack. It's things like that, Mercy knows, that mean she's got two homes. On opposite sides of the country. One's just less snowy and werewolf filled than the other. She's on her phone, too. A new one. "Hey, yeah I got ack safely. Had to stop in Denver, we got diverted, oh no, it was weather. Yeahh straigh through after that. Did I eat the pretzels? No I didn't. I'm at the Rockefeller Center, so what do you want me to get you?" Mercy asks with a laugh. "Alright, go be productive, and go shovel snow" she nods and sets her phone back in pocket. She's carrying her holdall. Under her winter coat, she's got a Christmas sweater on too, albeit with actual, real, melted snow on it. The price of going four pawed to chase rabbits and mice in her other home.... She looks around, making a beeline for the sleigh. "Hey, this where I donate toys?" she asks, setting the holdall down. "I got a bag's worth, all wrapped" she adds and looks around the sleigh as if inspecting it for damage whilst keeping her hand looped through the holdall's handles. Illyana's teeth baring gets a look as Mercy steps back. If rule one of being a predator is never turn your back on another predator. Rule two is.....survive. know when to pick fights. Mercy's not wanting to throw down here and now. Instead, she hefts the holdall up to her hip, the strap over a shoulder. She looks to Illyana, but doesn't say a word....yet, more gauging the situation. She does though give the blond a nod. 

:'''{{#var:1776|Mason (1776)}} has posed:'''     Mason hands the presents up to another moderately well known celebrity, and comes back, hearing Mercy's question. "Absolutely, this is it," he says with a bright smile. "That's great, I'm sure the kids will love it. Holiday cheer is all over the place." He glances over as the Illyana's abrasive command. "Oh, hey Illy. He snaps a quick wink at her, "Bringing some donations, that's really great!" He uses a certain degree of 'too much cheer' tactic to try to cover any possible grumpiness that the couple might express as they give a strange look and back away from her. 

:'''{{#var:145|Illyana Rasputin (145)}} has posed:''' The petite blonde sorceress maneuvers without too much of a problem. The bag on her back isn't particularly heavy, just awkward in size, but she manages it without any kind of difficulty. No suggestion here of being wrapped up in snow or even cold, but it's probably the case that the nip to the air barely registers with a girl born and raised in Siberia. Her footfalls are graceful as she goes around the unmoving couple who flatten up to the glass and steel rail separating them from the rink and the decorations. A muttered thank you in her wake, she turns and finds herself more or less in the front lines of richer people than her. Toys, then, these are things to be offered. She looks at Mercy and then back to Mason, forfeiting the opening space ahead of her. "Go ahead." See, she can be polite in a terse but not unkind way. 

:'''{{#var:99|Mercy Thompson (99)}} has posed:''' Mercy nods, "Thanks, and yeah would you mind helping with the bag?" Mercy asks. In the holdall, each gift is wrapped, and...for those with keen noses, smells of mint, musk and snow. Oh yeah and that paper and glue smell. Mercy is pulling presents out, the plea for help to the celebrites mor so than Illyana. Mostly since Mercy's a little tenative to ask the Russian woman for help given her brusque attitude...though Mercy has her snippy moments too. Which come with her territory of being a coyote among wolves...and mutants...and.....whatever else the city's got. She does though flash a smile to the celebs. "Here" Mercy says pulling rapped gifts out. The very first one she pulled out was a stuffed toy coyote. Because it's as much Mercy as anything else she does. 

:'''{{#var:1776|Mason (1776)}} has posed:'''     "Well, that's really cute," Mason says. "I'm Mason, Mason Steele," he introduces. Though most people know his face, he greets as if he were not famous. Besides, it saves him embarrassment when they don't. "Thanks so much for helping the kids." He catches a whiff of the scent, but doesn't recognize at first the origin. "Ooh, something smells minty," he comments. "Illyana, have you come to help out? Or just dropping things off?" he says, as if intentionally opening the conversation to include her. 

:'''{{#var:145|Illyana Rasputin (145)}} has posed:''' Letting Mercy go first gives Illyana time to drop her bag to her feet and rummage around in one of the pockets. She gives a particularly pointed look to the contents, though it's more one of speculation and mental counting than irritation at the existence of a city atop perfectly nice marshland. "Hullo," she repeats, nodding to Mason as he introduces himself. The celebrities are otherwise not impressing her much; she apparently is too distracted to notice. Where, where, where; the flicker of her brows smooths out to a porcelain mask. A look around measures up the sudden appearance of anyone else behind her and then she gives Mason a mirrored stare of sorts through her loose blonde bangs. "You need help? What with?" Her toe nudges the backpack closer to her. "I have a few things." Beat. "From my brother." Liar. 

:'''{{#var:99|Mercy Thompson (99)}} has posed:''' Mercy raises an eyebrow at Illyana, she's not believing the 'from my brother' line. "Yeah. Minty" Mercy sayss with a grin, and slides the holdall a little closer to speed up gift donating. Still though Merccy looks over to Mason. "Oh you're Mason?" she asks with a look of pleasure. She's met Mason. Which is good, andMercy glances to Illyana. "Anything in particular your brother brought?" Mercy asks. Subtle testig if it's a lie or not. Still, Mercy's not going to flat out shout Illy's a liar in the midst of a happy center. She'll just question, gently however. 

:'''{{#var:1776|Mason (1776)}} has posed:'''     Social cues are a strong point for Mason, so the subtle tension is not lost on him. How does he respond? Diplomacy! "Well, that's great to hear, Illyana, we thank both you and your brother." He gives a motion to the operation around. "Well, there's always room for more volunteers. This time of day is a little less staffed. Had a few people try to lift a few of the packages. Kinda sad. I mean, it's for the kids and people are stealing them." He gives a helpless shrug, glancing back to Mercy. "You know, we have reached over 2,300 presents so far today. We are hoping to make it seven by the day's end." 

:'''{{#var:8765|Shannon (8765)}} has posed:'''      Even if there isn't much one can do, it doesn't mean that's any excuse to not at least try. Word of the Rockefeller toy drive seems to have brought many out of the woodwork, including what some might think is a Christmas angel. But it's no angel. It's just another teen trying to do a little something extra for the holidays. Having begged off of studies for the day for charity's sake, and leaving the proper notifications as needed, Shannon's made her way to the event and is now ferrying a small batch of presents on over to the sleigh. She's in her cream tunic sweater, dark blue jeans, and caramel suede boots, with her ice-blue braid and its three little silver beeds peeking out from beneath that goofy-looking 'Where's Waldo' style red and white beanie hat. And nope, there's no hiding the wings--much to the delight of a few small children. With her arms somewhat full, she crouches down and extends her wings, giving the small gaggle of littles a chance to see an 'angel'. Their outright curiosity and lack of fear make her smile--oh, to be that small and fearless again! 

:'''{{#var:145|Illyana Rasputin (145)}} has posed:''' "He would know." True fact, that. "Will they be wrapped?" Illyana abruptly asks, looking between the celebrities taking gifts. All that paper looks the same but she might not be sure, at any rate. Her eyes narrow a fraction. Question hanging in the air, she nods to Mercy briskly again sooner or later. "I can help carry boxes. And keep people from taking them." The serious nod from the Russian girl conveys that shifting dissent against anyone thieving from children or charity. Hard to say which prompts her action, but she hands the backpack over. It's rather heavy with its contents. "Will you show me where to put this? I am not sure." From awkward donator to would-be guard, that's quite the jump, but one she clearly has no trouble to dealing with. Not until the angel flits by and she waves her fingers at Shannon. 

:'''{{#var:99|Mercy Thompson (99)}} has posed:''' Mercy's caught movement out of the corner of her eye, still handing presents off and keeping the bag open so the helpers can dig in and get the presents out. Hey, the bag itself /is/ a present...and she's not okay with stealing from gifts for kids. She too waves to Shannon, mouthing 'cookies' to her. The last time they talked, Mercy was on about licking bowls out after all. Still though, Mercy's got a purple belt in shi she kai kan karate. She's fine with guarding gifts. And if all else fails....she'll go four pwed and bite. Hard. Oh the joys of being the daughter of Coyote himself, Mercy's got tricks up her sleeves. She does though explain the bag's a gift too, and where's the paper to wrap it up in? Then again, knowing Mercy, she'll end up playing with the paper on four paws to entertain the kids. Because....why not? That's what she does, stashing clothes in a bathroom, stepping into being a coyote, and coming back on four paws, tail waggina dn perfectly fine with being petted, stroked and (hopefully not) taken home as a new pet. She's got a garage. Ending up as a pet would totaly ruin that. Plus, her father would laugh his butt off. And not help out because it'd be hilarious to him, thank you trickster god. Thanks a lot! 

:'''{{#var:1776|Mason (1776)}} has posed:'''     "Yeah, there's some wrapping over there," he nods in the direction of a crowded station. Unsurprising that it wouldn't be seen since it has several people around it, waiting to wrap their gifts. He glances over to the others spotting Shannon, following the gaze and tossing her a wink. "Anyone who wants to keep people from taking them is welcome to," he says. "Um, Chuck, the coordinator is around here somewhere." He cranks his head to the right behind him, then the left. "Um...somewhere." 

:'''{{#var:8765|Shannon (8765)}} has posed:'''      What's a little one to do when they see a stray canine-like creature? Why, start petting them and beg their parents to take the friendly creature home with them, of course! A befreckled, red-headed tomboy of a girl, maybe seven or eight years old, all arms and legs in her well-worn dark gray winter gear and bright purple mittens--because hey, red hair and purple mittens match, right?--seems to have ignored the hustle and bustle in favor of trying to convince her somewhat harried-looking parents to bring the friendly 'yote home. "But mooooooooooom! We've got LOTS of room for her to play! And, and, I'll brush her fur and feed her and take her for walks and EVERYTHING!" Oh, dear.      Illyana, Mason, and Mercy all get a wave as Shannon is indulging the children's curiosity in her wings for the moment; apparently, this isn't the first she's dealt with littles approaching her like this. "Hi, guys! Heard you could use some extra help! Got a few toys but ummm, my hands are kind of full..." She nods towards the small pile of packages she's set down next to her, which she keeps an eye on to make sure the kiddos didn't mistake them for their own. 

:'''{{#var:145|Illyana Rasputin (145)}} has posed:''' People might not be willing to wrap their gifts are going to be in for a small surprise. In all effects, when Illyana carries her bag over there. The first gift she pulls out is a large box of Lego, sparkly and crisp. Next up another box filled by exciting, thrilling socks. Hey, be fair: they have claws. Dinosaur toe socks for everyone. Then the ninja balaclavas, one with a bunny nose and another with a hedgehog effect because even animals need themselves some sneaky people in their pajamas. Forget stuffed animals, these are functional toys with a certain cool factor to them, and they are pulled out with a particularly focused ease. They make a small heap. "You will need another table," she tells the volunteer. That might be bemusing until the next box of Lego comes out, and then the Iron Man and Captain America: Space Action Best Friends set comes out, followed by a nifty science set that totally does not involve actual radioactive elements (hopefully). She eyes it with thorough scrutiny and hands it over, the jingling of glass audible. Then goes another Captain Marvel snowsuit, followed by a pile of them with glittering snowflakes and there is a snow skirt on one of those. Then another. Another that comes out sparkly. The point is, there is no way that mountain is itself contained within a bag so little unless she has a bag of holding in there. The Queen of Limbo is an active participant in the dismissing of objects, even while a little girl complains about not having a coyote. A flick of her wrist brings out a... stuffed coyote, nearly life-size. Identical to the Mercy coyote. Now it takes a fair bit of manhandling to get that out of the bag, and for a moment there she is hugging something with a bright purple bow stuck to it. Arms wrap around the fuzzy object. "Mason." She's not even visible behind it. "This? Her? Please?" Three words, but they're a useful direction. But MOOOOOOOM. You should be careful what you wish for! Take that, cute kid. 

:'''{{#var:99|Mercy Thompson (99)}} has posed:''' Mercy, on four paws, is wagging her tail. Not helping, Mercy. not helping at all. She's just asking to be somebody's Chirstmas pet. Wrapping paper though. Now that's an idea. She licks fingers and steps back as the other coyote's produced...and Mercy trots over to the table, peering then strolls to Shannon, sniffing her. Entertaining. Not being brought home. See, that Russian girl can be nice. And Mercy's now convinced she wasn't lying...and her family are rich. Mercy's not. She's also a bit jealous. Just a little. 

:'''{{#var:1776|Mason (1776)}} has posed:'''     Mason watches the coyote, rather bewildered for a moment. He probably shouldn't be, given how frequently he sees mutants. "Huh?" he asks, turning back to face Illyana. "Oh, um..." he reaches out, taking the giant stuffed toy, and gives a nod to the parents of the child. "Look, we have an extra one of...these." It does remarkably look similar. He looks back toward Illyana, "Where did you get this?" he asks quietly, and suddenly has another person wave to him. He doesn't recognize her, but smiles, and she clicks a picture before he takes a breath. He's got a lot of activities happening around him at the moment, and trying to keep track of them all. 

:'''{{#var:8765|Shannon (8765)}} has posed:''' Shannon smiles back at Mason, and Illyana, just moments before she has a cold, wet nose nudging her hand. Not far off, the redheaded girl's mother can be heard attempting to explain matters to her daughter. "But sweetie, that dog might already have a home and family." It didn't seem to mollify the child; however, once the stuffed Mercy plushie makes its appearance, all is well in the world! Saved by the Illyana! 

:'''{{#var:145|Illyana Rasputin (145)}} has posed:''' The Russian girl is trying to be nice, for sure. The coyote toy is off to be delivered to someone else, since there's only a bow on it and nothing to worry about otherwise. The work of guarding presents will be done after pulling out a few more and deciding she's made a dent in the count. Other creations belong to other people, either way or not. "Thank you," she says simply. To Mason, she shrugs slightly. "I am always told being good counts for something." It isn't an explanation, not exactly. "So I put things to good use." He might not quite have a further definition from there, but there are simply too many people around for the blonde to explain further. She raises her fingers to her teeth, nibbling on an already ragged cuticle. A wonder it doesn't bleed, at that. See, saved by the plushie. She clears her throat. "Do you have everything you need over there?" This to Shannon. Spotlight, go away. 

:'''{{#var:99|Mercy Thompson (99)}} has posed:''' Mercy's thankful for it...and aplies coyote tongue to fingers, though given she's next to Shannon....cold, wet coyote nose, and wagging tail and all that are totally a thing. Four paws are better than tow legs. So the saying goes, as Mercy yips and seems to nod to Shannon, then wags her tail more at Illyana, a 'hey thanks for saving me' gesture. She trots around, then goes to inspect the wrapping paper...wondering how much it'd take to wrap a coyote. It's purely for science. For. Science. That done, she settles on the floor, laying down out the way with her paws stretched out, tail thudding on the floor. She's just looking like a lost pet or service animal or something. Definitely trying to pull off the 'I am fine here' look. 

:'''{{#var:7931|Joseph Miller (7931)}} has posed:''' Joseph Miller has been working to help out a bit with some construction projects when needed. Today he has off, and has decided to go out for a walk about to see the city now in the holiday colors. 

:'''{{#var:1776|Mason (1776)}} has posed:'''     Mason stands up straight again. "Phew, this is hard work," he says, moving next to Shannon with a sly smile. "Makes hot chocolate sound good, you want to get some after this?" he asks. Given his attention skills, he doesn't see that there's someone sneaking up on the back side of the sleigh, away from the side that is being loaded, the side not facing the rest of the operation. 

:'''{{#var:8765|Shannon (8765)}} has posed:'''      With the ruffling of hair on a few little heads, and gentle exhortations to mind their families and be good to each other, Shannon somehow manages to disentangle herself from the passel of little ones that had gathered around her. She tucks her wings in neatly behind her and stands, gathering up her small array of toys to bring over to the gift-wrapping station. While there aren't as many as some, they seem to be well-chosen--there's a few craft projects, one or two toy-sized instruments, and even one set that lets a child 'dig' in clay like a real archaeologist to find 'dinosaur bones'. She flashes a smile of gratitude over to the blonde Russian woman, and inclines her head. "Actually, Illyana, I could use a hand getting these wrapped." Yeah, she'd seen enough strange things to not even bat an eye at the mysterious appearance of the life-size coyote plushie, or to question its origins. When a gift is given, you don't necessarily need to ask where it came from. Mercy gets a soft chuckle from her and a shake of her head. Hey, who could blame the kiddo for wanting to take a gorgeous coyote home with them to love?      "Hot chocolate? Sounds good to me." Shannon's more focused on getting the presents to the wrapping station--perhaps with the help of Mason--and so doesn't have her attention on the sleigh, either. Her arms are rather full, and her voice a little muffled from the stack of presents that looks ready to topple over from her arms. 

:'''{{#var:145|Illyana Rasputin (145)}} has posed:''' Illyana isn't ill at ease around other people. She merely might not be the happiest surrounded by the unfamiliar. The flicker of her fingertips resting against her hip, she moves among the crowd to avoid bumping into children or other good gift givers. If Shannon needs another set of hands, she can certainly manage that. Whatever is bigger or bulkier, she takes, or if it means an armful of bits. "Da," she replies to Shannon, giving her a chance to orient on the table for wrapping. The parade keeps moving on, and she shakes her head to Mason's offer of hot chocolate. Distracted, what can a girl do? 

:'''{{#var:99|Mercy Thompson (99)}} has posed:''' Mercy launches herself up and at the sled with a growl, a warning growl. Rrrrrrrrr, with her ears flat on her head, eyes locked on the sleigh. Mercy's willing to clattr full speed into the poor sol trying to steal from the sleigh. Mercy's willing to take one for the team, so to speak. Plus being slammed into by a flying 'yote's gotta hurt....for Mercy as well. She's stilled her tail wagging, and has paws outstretched. It's not every day you see a coyote launch herself at something. Or someone. It's like one of those TV nature documentaries is happening. 

:'''{{#var:7931|Joseph Miller (7931)}} has posed:''' Joseph Miller is finding a place to watch people here a bit. He looks over to the sleigh a brow raised a bit to see whats going on over there since there is some type of commotion going on over there. He will head to get a better look. 

:'''{{#var:8765|Shannon (8765)}} has posed:'''      The commotion does catch Shannon's attention, and she turns from setting down the rest of her presents down at the wrapping station, just in time to see Mercy spring into action. Unfortunately, Christmas and charity can also bring somewhat unsavory sorts out of the woodwork, and today is sadly no exception. An older man that looks like he's seen better days, in the classic trope of a ratty, long grey coat, ragged beanie, scruffy brown beard, and ancient boots with holes in the toes, is just a little too close to the sleigh. He also looks white as a ghost, stumbling backwards as the coyote moves in to protect the presents. A few oaths are growled that are perhaps best left to the imagination. 

:'''{{#var:145|Illyana Rasputin (145)}} has posed:''' The scruffy fellow might be subject to the mingled wrath of coyote and displeasure of a crowd watching. Maybe those badly mangled clothes signal a legitimate need. Maybe it's a costume! "Fake beggar" is muttered by at least one person there in the background. Their eager smiles for the holiday turn unhappy, frowns and then outright looks of disapproval and dismay an ugly shift in the wintertime mood. Illyana may not be the most emotive person in the room, but she certainly picks up on that. Halting as Shannon has her carrying some kind of burden, she assesses the fellow hiding in the presents makes a rather sorry shape and appearance. Her eyes turn paler still as she focuses on him for any signs of magic or worse in play, looking otherwise distracted from the gaggle of children who want their freedom. Sometimes the tropes are real. Sometimes they aren't, and the coyote is growling up the right pant leg to something truly terrible in his intention. Forty pounds of coyote is nothing to sneeze at. 

:'''{{#var:99|Mercy Thompson (99)}} has posed:''' 32 pounds, female coyote to be exact. Mercy's still in mid spring as claws find floor and she skitters over, jaws open, snarling now. It's a good thing coyotes can't speak. Mercy can be very, very vocal when she wants to be. Very. Very vocal, and now's a good time to scare the guy trying to steal presents. Mercy looks to him, and the presents, claws seeming to dig into the floor as the coyote stands he rground shaking out her fur, Mercy stays put, watching the sleigh. Who needs mall or center security anyway? She's just hoping nobody's called animal control. That'd get really awkward, really quickly. Shaking her nuzzle at the guy, Mercy's not sitting back and about to let him get away with stealing from kids. Not in the least. Another warning growl. 

:'''{{#var:1776|Mason (1776)}} has posed:'''     Mason glances over as the man backs up, and lets out a sigh. "See, all day." He tries to keep things less dramatic, and starts to jog over to the older man. "Hi, sir," he offers cordially. "If you have a present, we're asking everyone to deliver them over on this side, and if your family needs any, then you can sign up over there by the Frosty blow-up," he suggests, pointing to the other side of the operation. Rather than just call the guy a thief and make a scene, he's trying to dissolve it peacefully. 

:'''{{#var:7931|Joseph Miller (7931)}} has posed:''' Joseph Miller will move closer to what is going on. He looks at the coyote, and the man. He crosses his arms ready to grab either man or coyote if he needs to. He is still trying to see what's going on, and if need he will interfer, but he wants to know whats going on and is still catching up. 

:'''{{#var:8765|Shannon (8765)}} has posed:'''      Thankfully, the sorry soul has no stench of magic around him. Just... a stench. It also looks as if he hasn't eaten for a while. Shannon frowns as she sees the fracas by the sleigh, and moves over to stand by Mercy, ready to keep animal control at bay. Just in case. "Hey there," she offers. "You okay?" While Mason seems to have the matter in hand, she still smiles. "If you ask over by the sign-up table, maybe they can help you out a little."      There is dead silence, the man looking stunned as if he didn't expect any kindness at all from anyone, let alone four and a coyote. It certainly didn't look as if the world had shown him any in recent times, with lines of worry and stress etched into his worn features. "You've got to be kidding me," he grumbles. "Nobody does for each other anymore." 

:'''{{#var:99|Mercy Thompson (99)}} has posed:''' Mercy looks to Shannon with an ear twitch, then the man, then all around before back to the sleigh. She's still an alert coyote really, but Mercy's still on edge just a little and not trusting somebody who was, c'mon, just sneaking up on the pile of gifts. Shaking her head, Mercy pulls herself up to her full four pawed height, but she does seem to relax a tiny, tiny bit. Ears not quite so flat. Though...she's still looking to the man, but now it's one of curiosity not 'I am going to rip your throat out' 

:'''{{#var:7931|Joseph Miller (7931)}} has posed:''' Joseph Miller looks to the man and says "I believe people do try to help people now and again still, but when they see someone taking from those who have little in the first place it makes it harder for people to want to help them. You do good people are more likely to help. 

:'''{{#var:1776|Mason (1776)}} has posed:'''     Mason, joining the Hallmarkian mood, nods with that pretty boy smile of hils. "Yeah man, it's Christmas," he says, piggybacking. "It's a time for everyone to pull together and stuff." He motions around. "Everyone here wants to help each other." He reaches out for a tentative fist bump. After all, that guy's kinda smelly, and he doesn't really want to go as far as a hug. "Tell ya what, maybe we could get some hot chocolate or somethin' here soon, how's that?" 

:'''{{#var:8765|Shannon (8765)}} has posed:'''      The down-and-out man just looks at everyone, stunned. Could this be a change for the better in his fortunes? Was there, after all, hope for the hopeless in this holiday season? With Mercy at least no longer posing a threat, and a fist-bump of fellowship offered, the gesture is returned in kind. "I still don't believe it, man. But thanks." Shannon moves to escort the man over to the sign-up table, trying to keep a smile on her face--but there is mist in her eyes. And it's not from the smell, judging by the droop of her wings. 

:'''{{#var:99|Mercy Thompson (99)}} has posed:''' Mercy's relax and is trotting with Shannon and the man, though she's glancing back to see what everyone else is up to as well. See. Mercy's proud of Shannon, it's the way she looks to the winged one, and seems to smile, insomuch a coyote can. Mercy trots to Shannon and offers a paw for a high five. Because that's totally normal animal behavior. It's better than chewing on shoes or stealing laces, really. Looking to Joseph for a moment Mercy lifts her other paw for a wave, balancing on her hind paws. Kind of a giveaway she's not your average canine really, not at all. Putting the waved paw back on the floor, Mercy's balancing on three paws, head canted to the side as she's taking everything in. 

:'''{{#var:7931|Joseph Miller (7931)}} has posed:''' Joseph Miller 's brow raises did the coyote just wave at him. He will rub the bridge of his nose, ha aint been working that hard has he? He looks over to Shannon "Girl from the dinner right? this a friend of yours?" 

:'''{{#var:8765|Shannon (8765)}} has posed:''' Shannon turns as Joseph addresses her, canting her head slightly as she peers at him for a moment. It takes her a second, but she smiles in recognition and nods. "That was a little while back. Didn't expect I'd ever see you again. How've you been?" Mercy gets a nice ear-scritching as the man is in the care of some of the volunteers at the sign-up table, who usher him off to get the help he needs to get back on his feet. Small Christmas miracles -could- still happen after all. "This is Mercy. Yeah, you could say she's a friend." 

:'''{{#var:99|Mercy Thompson (99)}} has posed:''' Mercy's enjoying the ear scritching. And yes. Yes. She did wave. Because she can totally step into being a coyote, but she strolls off toward the bathrooms whe stashed her clothes. She's been on four paws, and she turns to watch Shannon, Joseph et al before nudging the door open with her nose. Being back on two legs sounds real good right about now... 

:'''{{#var:7931|Joseph Miller (7931)}} has posed:''' Joseph Miller nods, and says "Yea, been a few months but kid with wings sorta sticks in the memory even if in Bushwick," He will tell her chuckling "So the canine a friend of yours, don't think I have ever seen a wave before. 

:'''{{#var:8765|Shannon (8765)}} has posed:''' Shannon chuckles softly, shrugging, her wings ruffling a bit behind her. "She's definitely unique, but she's a good sort. Sharp as a tack. I don't get to see her all that often, either." Holding out her hand, she tilts her head towards him. "Just in case I don't see you again before then, Merry Christmas to you." 

:'''{{#var:99|Mercy Thompson (99)}} has posed:''' Mercy comes back on two legs then and nods to them. "Merry Christmas. And I owe you a bowl of cookie mix, too" Mercy nods to Shannon and grins to Joseph then smiles. "Somehow, I think we helped in our own ways. Anyone seen a big brown dog around here?" Mercy asks. She's totally playing innocent. "I went to the bathroom and my dog ran off! Mercy explains. Yeah good story, Mercy. 

:'''{{#var:7931|Joseph Miller (7931)}} has posed:''' Joseph Miller looks over and says "Hey babe." He leans over to hug Mercy giving her a quick kiss "So what you been up to, just got waved at by a coyote, not something I thought would happen, not in New York even more. 

:'''{{#var:8765|Shannon (8765)}} has posed:''' Shannon lofts her eyebrow at the pair and chuckles softly, shaking her head. Ah, well, perhaps someday... who knows? "Had no idea you two knew each other. But then again, haven't seen either of you in something like, forever." 

:'''{{#var:99|Mercy Thompson (99)}} has posed:''' Mercy smiles and leans into Joseph, "What, you didn't know this city had coyotes? I mean, aside from the zoos? You got to pay attention, they're definitely in the city, you know how foxes are? Yeah same deal" she nods and smiles to Shannon. "Nah I was in there" she says gesturing to the door to the facilities. "WHat'd I miss, aside from social canines?" Mercy asks. She's setting herself up to faceplant if she's not careful though. 

:'''{{#var:7931|Joseph Miller (7931)}} has posed:''' Joseph Miller says, "Seems some guy needed some help but was going the wrong way about it. " He will tell Mercy. "Did not have to get into any trouble at least." He grins and looks over to Shannon "Mercy helped fix my bike, and we sorta clicked."" 

:'''{{#var:8765|Shannon (8765)}} has posed:''' Shannon nods, and smiles at the pair. "May we all someday be so lucky. Sounds like you've got your Christmas miracle." There's a hint of shadows in her eyes, but only briefly, as she steps back. "I should probably consider getting on home. Still got a lot of Christmas presents to finish making." 

:'''{{#var:99|Mercy Thompson (99)}} has posed:''' Mercy smiles, looking pleased at Shannon then Joseph. "So, what you think of the center?" Mercy asks with a smile, then checks her watch. 

:'''{{#var:7931|Joseph Miller (7931)}} has posed:''' Joseph Miller says, "Decent looking with the lights and such. I thought I would see what the city has put up. I might come out again tonight to see things after dark, want to come with me?" 

:'''{{#var:99|Mercy Thompson (99)}} has posed:''' Mercy nods, "Sure thing" she nods and looks around again, "Though I gotta go find my dog though, so...." Mercy muses with a shrug, palms raised. "Always gets away but comes home, though. C'mon, let's go find said canine" Mercy offers, beginning to head around the center to look for....well.....a coyote. 
}}

9996/Come to Blows

2019-12-09T20:19:03Z

GodsKnite: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2019/11/11 |Location=The Narrows, Burnley |Synopsis=Drake runs across June competing in an underground fighting ring. |Cast of Characters=1787,1353..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2019/11/11
|Location=The Narrows, Burnley
|Synopsis=Drake runs across June competing in an underground fighting ring.
|Cast of Characters=1787,1353
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:1787|June (1787)}} has posed:'''     The Narrows is never a really ideal place to be. With the current underworld civil war, the coventry murders, and the death of the Batman, it's probably an even less safe place than it is usually. Cops don't patrol here as well, and so activities like tonight's often go unnoticed by the police.     It's a horribly kept secret that there is a fighting club in the area. If you want to make money, you can put your name in. There's no title holders, there's no preference, only that the contenders have to all be human. This is an old fashioned type of place for a rough and tumble fight. Tonight is fight night, as well. So people have started to make their way into the old Thai restaurant, though it is really just the pass through to get to a lower unit that's locked from the outside. An empty floor of this part of the building, it looks like someone started to rennovate it, but it never really got finished, left incomplete after the walls were stripped. Bare brick, exposed rafters, and metal primarey supports show where rooms could be placed, but for now, it's just an open space, filled with about forty people. One stands on a box, pointing out to those who are raising their hands as they get ready for the next fight. 

:'''{{#var:1353|Drake Winters (1353)}} has posed:''' Horribly kept secrets are the best kind of secrets. With Drake working the streets of Gotham on the downlow, he has made his way to this Thai joint from a different angle. There is a small glow from the left ring finger of the Legionnaire's hand as he floats through the sky and touches down on the roof, followed by finding a way through the top via a hatch to the rafters. He is dressed in his black pants, a solid black shirt and an Overwatch bomber jacket. Snowball is on his shoulder in a harness in 'low power mode' so not to give off any bright lights. As his eyes scan the floor below, he takes his phone out to snap a few pictures of those gathered here, using the lens to zoom in. Surely he will pick up a few familiar faces for the database on the Cruiser to research and track down those who are terrorizing the streets. 

:'''{{#var:1787|June (1787)}} has posed:'''     A number of lower ranking gang members from around the town are here, probably a good way to get info on what's happening in the city without asking someone smart enough to realize what's happening. Then, there's one young woman who sticks out a little more than usual. Hands slap her on the shoulders, one on the rear as she enters the ring. A pair of black compression shorts and a black spandex top that has half sleeves are her fighting outfit, along with an old pair of gray sneakers. Her piercings are taken out, save for the gauges in her ears. She doesn't seem forced, though. She shakes her shoulders out, waggling her fingers as her opponent comes in from the opposite side of the crowd created ring. Her foe is quite a bit larger, jeans and no shirt, revealing a rather well stacked physical appearance. Not exactly a fair fight. 

:'''{{#var:1353|Drake Winters (1353)}} has posed:''' There is an internal groan as Drake spots the familiar young woman that has taken the floor for a rumble. His eyes track her, then looks over towards the bulky man. Furrowing his brows with a tight frown, he leans forward a bit more as he keeps himself parked on the rafters, like a dark shadow in the ceilings. Reaching up, he taps the side of his visor that he snuck out of the cruiser as it starts recording and calculating the multiple bodies and odds. If anything, at least he will have a hell of a data set to pour through when he gets back on the ship. Well, or Brainy will. Let the nerd do this type of work. He lives for it. 

:'''{{#var:1787|June (1787)}} has posed:'''     Whatever the odds, a cowbell is struck, and the large man comes out swinging. June ducks the punch, spinning around and giving a roundhouse to his ribs. It knocks him a little to the side, but the size difference makes it clear that regardless of her ninjitsu skill, he will still be at an advantage. He swings and misses again, and June this time jumps up for a double kick, knocking him forward and off his feet.     The man sprawls face first, and June leaps up on top of him, wrapping an arm around his neck and locking it in place for a choke hold. So far, looks like she's doing pretty well. 

:'''{{#var:1353|Drake Winters (1353)}} has posed:''' As he watches, Drake is antsy on his hidden position. He can feel the energy in the air, hear the roar of the others around cheering for either combatant. As he watches June strike and start to take the advantage, he is quietly cheering for her with pride in his chest. He holds his breath in his chest, as if afraid to let it out. His heart is racing and he can feel his bracelet warm up, going from green to blue. Huh. That's new. He gives a glance over to it, then furrows his brows as he tries to focus. 

:'''{{#var:1787|June (1787)}} has posed:'''     The man gets to his feet, June's much smaller form still attached behind him. He tries to throw her over his head, but she locker her legs around him. He tries to punch without success, and then tries to force er legs to unlock, all without avail. His face is turning a bit purple, his teeth clenched. It looks like she is going to win, cheers and jeers erupting from the crowd as he slows down.     Then in one final attempt, he grabs her ankle and the offending choking arm, and throws himself back to the ground. He has to outweight her by a good 150 lbs, and with the grip on her, she has nothing to do to break the fall. He lands hard and heavily on top of her, knocking the wind out of her and shaking her loose. She mutters something, undoubtedly a profanity, and he rolls off onto his hands and knees.     Both are winded, trying to get back their ability to fight for a moment while the crowd mocks them both. The man recovers first, and as June tries to roll away, he catches her by the arm, and brings a haymaker around with the other fist, snapping her head to the side, blood spraying from the massive hit. It dazes her pretty good, and she tries to respond by delivering a kick to his groing. She misses. He flings her back so she lands on her back again, still reeling from the heavy punch. 

:'''{{#var:1353|Drake Winters (1353)}} has posed:''' Go! Go! Go! Come on! Cooooome oooon.. oh, fuck! Drake finds himself jolting a bit as he watches June get flipped about, then struck in such a manner that rocks her head to one side. He grips the bottom of the beam, quietly muttering to himself. "Come on June, you dumb bitch. Focus. Please.." He whispers softly. ".. Get up.." He shifts one foot against the beam, as if to center himself. 

:'''{{#var:1787|June (1787)}} has posed:'''     June clambers back against the crowd as she tries to recover, which the crowd is completely unsympathetic to. They shove her forward and back to her feet, and into another punch from the large foe. She spins, slamming undesignatedly into his body after the punch. He catches her, arm pinning her arms down, and hoists her into the air, driving the crowd wild. He gives her a slap on the but, which brings a laugh from all of those watching, and then another, clearly interested in embarrassing her before defeating her.     June uses the moment to spin around, putting a scissor lock on his head for a rather unbreakable choke hold. There is even more hooting and laughing as the man punches her in the ribs, the chest, and anywhere else he can reach. It looks painful, but she holds on. Then he does something a little less conventional. He grabs her arms, and drops to the ground, planting the top of her head into the hard concrete. She lets go, toppling off of him. Perhaps not completely out, but definitely would be considered out by MMA standards. This isn't the MMA. 

:'''{{#var:1353|Drake Winters (1353)}} has posed:''' Grinding his teeth, Drake can't help but wince with each strike. As he watches the woman that he's still in love with get beaten and battered in such a way, he finds a rage ripping upwards through his heart. He shifts himself a bit, gauging the rest of the crowd through his visors. He can taste the adrenaline in the air. Do they mean to kill her after this? Should he intervene? A million thoughts speed through his head, all of which cry for action! SAVE HER! SAVE HER! SAVE HER! This is what you do! This is your job! But there is a whisper at the back of his head that says: Don't do it, she is here for a reason. She has a plan. You'll fuck that plan up. Hissing, he digs his fingers harder into the rafter, then plucks his ice gun off his hip. He takes aim, driving down the radius, then fires off a small spritz through the dark right at the man's feet. It's enough to cause him to slip and tumble if he takes a step, not enough to draw attention from his spot. 

:'''{{#var:1787|June (1787)}} has posed:'''     The man reaches down to pick June up again, who is clearly out of this fight, but as he does, he slips on the ice, landing on his rear. He looks rather confused, and looks at the ice on the ground. Everyone else is busy laughing at his slip, and don't seem to care all that much. He stumbles to his feet, still a little winded, and moves around toward June again. "I think she's had enough!" he bellows. "I was just starting to have fun!" he announces. 

:'''{{#var:1353|Drake Winters (1353)}} has posed:''' As the ice quickly melts into a wet puddle of slush, Drake lets out the breath he was holding. He keeps the gun ready though, looking as if he could plug the man in the back of the head with a shard if need be. But as it seems that the fight is over and June won't be further battered, he sighs softly. There is tears stinging the corner of his eyes, those of which he swallows back and blinks away. He shifts from one beam to the other quietly on soft feet as he's been trained, moving his position incase someone dares to look upwards. 

:'''{{#var:1787|June (1787)}} has posed:'''     June is rather disoriented, only barely conscious, and beat up pretty badly from the hits she took. The man offers her a hand, and she takes it to stand up, knowing she's lost. It might be a cordial thing, until he helps her up, and then spins her around and bends her over, pretending to do some lewd act with her. She pulls away with a snarl as the audience laughs, and she flips off her opponent as she backs up unsteadily. She is let out of the ring as the announcer calls out the victory. As for June? She moves out of the crowd and toward a pile of clothes that she has sitting by the corner, largely forgotten, as losers sometimes are. 

:'''{{#var:1353|Drake Winters (1353)}} has posed:''' As he follows along after her in the rafters quietly, Drake waits until the crowd is no longer interested in her. There is a quick blink of light as he flashes down at her side. He gives her a concerned look, opening his mouth, then closes it. He just stares at her with a hurt expression, desperate, wounded. "June." He finally gets out. 

:'''{{#var:1787|June (1787)}} has posed:'''     June slowly, and painfully, pulls her sweatshirt hoody over her head. She glances to the side as she sees the flash of light. "Hey Drake," she says. Black eye, a bruise on her cheek, busted lip, busted nose. She looks...pretty terrible. All that said, she doesn't act like there's a fuss to be had about it. She does look tired, though. "I'm guessin' you bet on my side," she says. "Sorry about that." 

:'''{{#var:1353|Drake Winters (1353)}} has posed:''' "No, but I made the guy fall before he could kill you. Why are you here, June?" Drake asks in a quavering voice. "You need a doctor. On our spaceship, we got this fancy super healing stuff that just .. fixes you.. like instantly. Smells like toothpaste." Even Snowball looks concerned with a O.O expression on her LED face. 

:'''{{#var:1787|June (1787)}} has posed:'''     The toothpaste comment forces a slight chuckle. "Toothpaste, huh?" she asks, stepping out of her sneakers, and stepping into her sweatpants. "Just thought I'd try to make a quick buck," June comments with a shrug. "They usually aren't as big as him," she admits. "What about you? What brings you to the gutter?" 

:'''{{#var:1353|Drake Winters (1353)}} has posed:''' "Investigating some murders and this place hit my radar. Been tracking one of the goons in the crowd to see if I can get at his boss." Drake says softly as he gives a frown on his face. "You are really here to get money? Come on, June." He says softly. "You're a thief, you don't need to get your ass kicked when you can steal a wallet, or get hooked up by your bird friends." He gives a glance over to the crowd. "He's lucky I didn't teleport his head off his shoulders." 

:'''{{#var:1787|June (1787)}} has posed:'''     "Damn Drake, talkin' about murderin' a guy. I was worse for you than I thought." She laughs, "He's just another asshole." Clearly, since he decidedly objectified her in the process of beating the mess out of her. Chances are he doesn't treat his own girl any better. "And I thought you wanted me on the straight and narrow, see, this is honest work," she grins, blood in her teeth. "Besides, good way to keep on the gossip, this city is even more shit than usual lately. Alliances are shifting just about by the hour." 
}}

10303/City Fall: For the Masses

2019-12-04T21:56:23Z

GodsKnite: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2019/12/03 |Location=Jackson Heights, Queens |Synopsis=The Turtle Team and the Shadow find out about the Foot's next play. |Cast of Characters=1233..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2019/12/03
|Location=Jackson Heights, Queens
|Synopsis=The Turtle Team and the Shadow find out about the Foot's next play.
|Cast of Characters=1233,96,8130,1092,8020,1468
|Tinyplot=City Fall
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     Queens isn't usually the place people think about when crime is the topic. That's what makes it a good location for crime. The Foot have come and gone as they see fit through most of NYC lately, and so it hasn't been hard to find operations connected to them. One of them seems to have Karai's oversight. presently, which might give it a little higher priority. Some sort of distribution that is supposed to go throughout the city. What that distribution is, exactly, is a mystery. Naturally, drugs are most commonly the assumption.     While the actual product is unknown as of yet, the location seems to have become slipped, whether through enforcers or other gangs in the area. Something to do with Oroku Industries. Given their involvement both with robotics and genetic research, that leaves a lot of possibilities, and The storage facility is right here in Queens. An industrial park. Not a closed one, but one that is wide open for business. A glass factory.     Box trucks roll in, and the place seems to be rather present with workers. Average looking people who don't even seem to have weapons. Go figure that. Most are rather dustily dressed, and the evening hours seem to be taking their toll on them as a few head out to their cars in the parking lot, while the evening shift comes on for the night. 

:'''{{#var:96|Donatello (96)}} has posed:''' Evening in Queens... Donatello rests on a rooftop near to the factory with trucks being brought in, a pair of binoculars on a swing mount fastened to his head with a few stretch bands. The Purp Turp hunkers, mouth pulled into a hard frown as he tries to get numbers of vehicles and personnel, looking to see how they move - who carries themselves at a low ready as opposed to working. Who're the predators hiding among the sheep. 

:'''{{#var:8130|Pippi (8130)}} has posed:'''     Pippi had accompaneid Donatello out on patrol this evening, her nose was to the wind, trying to pick up on the different scents She was staying low herslef, test gauntlets against her hands as she gives a slight huff of breath, her ears drawing up as she glances around, her hood pulled down for now, her shaggy, curling 'hair' standing up a bit.     "Think they're Foot?" she inquires in a little voice. 

:'''{{#var:1092|Natasha Cranston (1092)}} has posed:'''     The Foot's control of the gangs of New York that have sworn to the Shredder is firm, but there is one downside to hiring local talent as well. For one, while the local talent may know the lay of the land... They are also Known. And not even the Shredder has been able to pinpoint every informer, even if he'd known what to look for -- because the Shadow's network of agents is, in its own way, almost as good at blending in unnoticed as any onmitsu.     Within hours of the first time the local gangs were informed of the location, word of it reached an agent, who reported it on... And now the Shadow Knows...     This area of Queens isn't so run-down that traffic is completely unknown, and although Karai probably should have remembered a certain earlier incident, a lone cab passing nearby as it plies its trade is not something her sentries consider noteworthy, not even when it pauses briefly at the next intersection before turning away.     ... Of course, if they'd been able to see the way the shadows moved underneath the streetlight, they might have been more concerned. But they didn't, so they aren't. Karai might not even blame them for the oversight, afterwards. 

:'''{{#var:8020|Alopex (8020)}} has posed:'''     Two's fine, three's a party, and that's why Alopex was out on the multi-mutant patrol. It was a nice change of pace from the vigil she'd been keeping on Winterfall. She had been taking up the rear, just for protection's sake, so when she catches up to the others and takes note of Donnie's scowl and Pippi's question, the fox decides to have a look herself. "Trouble?" 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     The people on the grounds do indeed seem to be regular factory workers, however, a closer inspection of the site might indicate that the rooftops have other inhabitants. Including the one that the turtle team has just taken to, though the current path of patrol has yet to come across the intruders. Two simple Foot soldiers upon each roof, a total of six of them. In the terms of superheroes, almost no defense, but they would likely be very effective against any gang resistance.     A black Lincoln pulls up to the factory, and out of the car's back seat steps Karai. She isn't armed to the teeth the way she normally is, though the black outfit she wears hugs her body in a way that looks ready for action. She even...carries a purse? It looks like she just came from a rather formal event, her hair tied up in a bun rather than falling around her neck as it normally does.     She's not the only one, though, as the other back door of the car opens. It's Kitsune. The regal air about her is unmistakable, the woman in traditional Japanese robes steps in pace with her younger counterpart, chopsticks in her hair that put her in a different century all together. There's someone who doesn't come out in public frequently.     Meanwhile, below, The Shadow seems unnoticed, the darkening adjustments in the light so scarcely visible that it is mostly undetected. 

:'''{{#var:1468|Leonardo (1468)}} has posed:''' Sometimes, patrols consist of more than just two or three. Leonardo has been nearby, but taking on more of a forward scout role in checking out the complex. Chilly as the winter weather is, especially in the wake of a snowstorm recently, some areas can be slippery but it's nothing they haven't dealt with before. "They have Foot atop multiple roofs," he says, showing up silently nearby as he crouches to keep a low profile. How does he always do that? It's a ninja thing. "But, look." The katanas are still at his back, so he gestures toward the fancy vehicle that comes to a stop, most notably who gets out of it. Karai, he immediately recognizes. "Funny. She is trying to look normal." Kitsune..he may not have seen before. Someone else has, though. At least, her attire stands out. "Hmm." 

:'''{{#var:96|Donatello (96)}} has posed:''' "Yeah Pip, word is they're working out of here..." Donnie keeps watching in his goggles, flipping to a low light mode so as not to be blinded by full night vision. "I don't know how quiet you've gotten, but we may need to sneak up close - and then go for a puppy punch eh?" Donnie grin as he observes, tongue poking from the corner of his mouth. "What the?" he points and hands Pip another pair of binocs, "Do you see that shadow down there? Someone else looks like their peeping." the voice of Alopex making him motion with one hand towards his belt, "Binocs... look the way I'm looking." It's easier, and he comes prepared. "Yeah I see her... She looks weird out of armor, bro..." 

:'''{{#var:8130|Pippi (8130)}} has posed:'''     Pippi's ears perk up, and her tail gives a slight wag. "Isn't there always?" she asks the Fox, and then turns back "Aah, don't answer that one, Pex." Pippi states, and she turns her nose back to the wind. Glass manufacture smelled weird in the first place, but it was the black car that caught her attention next. Her eyes narrowed a moment, her ears pricking forward again as she sees two figures get out. She can't tell who they are, but she feels the pressure building. "I can hardly hear myself walk." she replies, her ears pricing forwards and giving a wiggle, but she's not one-hundred percent sure.     Should be interesting. 

:'''{{#var:1092|Natasha Cranston (1092)}} has posed:'''     Of all the people present and observing, the Shadow might be the /least/ trained in the formal arts of the Onmitsu; after all, one needs significantly less in the way of formal stealth training when one simply isn't seen unless one wishes to be seen. It does mean, however, that the Turtles go unnoticed, as the arriving limo draws the Shadow's full attention. Karai is easily recognized, even if she wore a battle outfit the last time she was encountered, but the woman she escorts is not. The way that even Karai obviously defers to her, however, makes it more than clear she's worth the Shadow's undivided attention.     In the back of her head, Natasha the wealthy socialite quietly categorizes the style and fashion period of the outfit and comes up with more questions than answers. For now, she follows, with slightly more caution than usual - her earlier encounters with the Foot have made her more than aware that her abilities are not an infallible cornucopia... 

:'''{{#var:8020|Alopex (8020)}} has posed:'''     Preparedness is something the fox is well aware of, and it's why she's at the edge of the roof, peering down, with her own scopes a few moments after confirmation. "Mm," she could have answered, but decides not to, especially after Pip retracts the question. She recognizes people, faces, "This ... is a lot of high ranking people, especially the regal looking one." No name is given, but Kitsune is unmistakable.     There's even Foot on other rooftops? "That confirms the importance of this place. If they're keeping tabs up here, they're on the look out for competition, and probably us. We do not want to be spotted by their patrols. They'll radio in and then we're going to have a lot harder time dealing with, ... well everything." 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     The whispering caught the attention of the patrol on their same roof, the two Foot ninjas moving in quietly to see who has perched on their patrol.They creep up on the four upon the roof, and one of them gives little click on a device that alerts the others. Maybe just enough of a sound that they are detected before they leap upon them, one with sais and the other with a katana.     Down below, the roof seems to have additional activity as the Foot upon them start to move about, looking down from their dark vantage points. They know there are visitors, but they aren't clear regarding the whereabouts, scanning the grounds around them. 

:'''{{#var:8130|Pippi (8130)}} has posed:'''     Click?     Pippi's ears draw up at the sound of a footfall, the sensitive ears on the canine flicking backwards as she pauses, then twists, turning on the ball of one foot as she lowers herself into position, without having to warn the others, and the pitbull cross mutant bares her teeth and makes her approach.     She leaps up, springing off an AC unit and, ripping off one of the grills on it, attempts to knock over the katana-bearing Foot! 

:'''{{#var:1468|Leonardo (1468)}} has posed:''' Leonardo turns just after Pippi reacts to the sound. Did they not check the very roof they were on? Are they slipping? No matter now, and Leo lets out a low curse with them having been found. There may need to be a talk about this later, but right now the Foot patrol, while no real challenge for the group of them, present a larger problem: they've sent the alert out. "Time to move, guys." He leaps into action but Pippi's already starting to look for her own way of dropping the one with the single sword. He instead turns to face the one with the sais. Yeah, he's dealt with someone using those weapons a few times before. "Don't get caught out in the open," he tells the others, advancing to feint with an attack that intentionally gets one katana caught up by a sai, just so he can throw a headbutt at the Foot Clan member from close proximity. 

:'''{{#var:96|Donatello (96)}} has posed:''' "Alopex, with me." Donnie pulls out a climbing claw and throws it to hook the edge of the roof down the way while a line connects it to the tech workshop he calls a belt. Giving her enough time to decide if she's going to hop on his back as he motions before he takes off at a low run, dipping over the edge to use the line itself to keep him up as he sprints sideways along the building, leaping to go to the next and cling to the few handholds available to him. From there he watches, waits, flipping his snoopers back down until he gets the word. 

:'''{{#var:8020|Alopex (8020)}} has posed:'''     Click? Pippi's reaction, "We're made!" the fox calls out before turning, looking, and drawing out a pair of kama she's started carrying in recent weeks. Can't take the Shard out every day, can she? Nope.     With blue brother and pup dealing with the patrol, the fox gives a nod toward Donnie and moves to follow. "You two be careful!" she calls back before.. well she didn't expect a ride but whatever! She'll do as the techie wants. "Get going!" 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     The grill of the AC cracks across the ninja's face, and he spills backward, sliding down a few feet on the sheet metal roof. The second takes a headbutt to the face, falling back flatly unconscious as Leo dispatches him with ease.     Down below, Karai and Kitsune seem uninterrupted by any alert, as they stroll purposefully and directly to one of the doors in the factory at ground level, opening the heavy opaque portal. Karai holds the door for Kitsune, and gives a quick glance around her for alertness before entering herself. 

:'''{{#var:1092|Natasha Cranston (1092)}} has posed:'''     The scuffle on the rooftop gets the Shadow's attention, but only briefly. Whatever is going on inside is more important.     Of course, /getting/ inside is not as easily done; this Karai is made of sterner stuff than most of her servants, and she might become aware of something affecting her if a too direct attempt is made to alter her perceptions. But a building this size has more than one entrance -- and the others aren't guarded nearly as well...     Of course, most of the sentries have noticed the scuffle, and while most of them are disciplined enough to remember to mind their own areas of surveillance rather than gawk at the fight, it /is/ distracting. Distracting enough that one Jounin's mind fails to register the brief click of the door behind him opening and closing. 

:'''{{#var:1468|Leonardo (1468)}} has posed:''' "That was almost too easy," Leonardo says to Pippi, beckoning for her to follow. "Donnie and Alopex are dealing with another pair of guards. We need to take down the last set. Let's go." He maintains that low profile, expecting the remaining ones to be ready for them as he goes into motion and makes for the next building. But, if they're pushovers like the first two.. "Once we're done, we need to get inside and see what's going on." 

:'''{{#var:8130|Pippi (8130)}} has posed:'''     "Right." Pippi states, aping Leonardo's movements, keeping low. Easy being shorter than him! She keeps on high alert, her hackles raised slightly as she goes about tailing Leo along the building, easily keeping up with his movements, listening in case Alopex gives the whistle. 

:'''{{#var:96|Donatello (96)}} has posed:''' As they come up and around to the next roof, Donnie twists and kicks off, swinging up on the line before hitting the release to send himself and Alopex flying, hissing out, "Spring board and go, I'll get the other one!" even as he swings his legs to put himself into a tight spin, and throws his collapsible staff with intentions for it to spring open in the face of one of the foot soldiers. 

:'''{{#var:8020|Alopex (8020)}} has posed:'''      Good idea! With Donnie lunging upward, Alopex does the same from his shell which sets the fox toward some rather lofty heights. Thiniking the same as the others: Get rid of the guards, Alopex's angle of descent has her coming down on another hapless foot soldier that may not understand a very universal principle. There are more directions then left, right, and behind. Why do humans so rarely look up when spooked?! Or when it's too late. Example: Alopex's dropping in, feet first. Will he see her? Will he only do so only to be struck? Will he actually dodge?! She seems confident he's not going to.. 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     There are other doors, of course, as any factory would have several. They are mostly locked from the outside, but only by simple traditional locks for those who are able to pick such things. They are largely unguarded as well. Above Don and Alopex are able to decidedly pick off the two respective Foot as the fox comes sailing back down onto the poor Foot soldier, driving her to the ground, a snap heard as she decidedly just broke some ribs from the impact. Like all Foot soldiers, she makes no noise from the pain, though she tries to reach for her kunai to fight back even though she has little hope of doing much before she's knocked out.     Her counterpart spins about as he watches the impact of his partner, only to have the lights go out as the staff strikes him.     Inside, it's much warmer, given that it is a factory that works in glass. Karai and Kitsune make their way across a mid level catwalk toward a series of trucks with several boxes sitting nearby to be loaded. They step back down the catwalk to the loading dock, and kitsune takes a nearby box and opens it, looking inside. 

:'''{{#var:1468|Leonardo (1468)}} has posed:''' Having caught a glimpse of movement leading inside while headed to the next building over, Leonardo says to Pippi, "They moved in. We need to get there, too." This leads to a quick taking down of the other two Foot lookouts, making the area surrounding the factory a little safer for unimpeded movement. Really, they're no match for the turtle and the dog. With their way now clear, the blue-banded one descends to ground level and takes note of the way Karai and Kitsune entered. With a hand signal, he motions for Pippi to stick close as he heads around the side, finding a locked door. He puts an ear to it, but only for a cursory check. Seconds later, the lock is falling to the ground courtesy of a precise strike with one of his katanas - who needs a lockpick? - and the door itself is opened just wide enough for them to enter. 

:'''{{#var:8130|Pippi (8130)}} has posed:'''     Pippi tags along, following Leonardo's lead. She's pulled her hood up to hide some of her more notable details, though the steel bar wrapped around the two other Foot guards would deliver just what was accompanying Leonardo this day.     She stays close, a quiet shadow to his side, her ears drawing up, listening, checking behind them as Leonardo breaches the factory, her nose giving a slight wrinkle, tongue sticking out a little. Industrial smells were not good smells. 

:'''{{#var:96|Donatello (96)}} has posed:''' Following suit with the downing of their patrol, Donnie's staff is retrieved and he kneels down on the roof, rooting around in his kit for a line launcher. "Risking some sky lining, but it'll be quick..." putting a scope to one eye before the *CHUFF* of compressed air launches the barbed harpoon across the distance, downward from the roof to the ground near the base of the factory to give the Purp Turp and the Fox a zipline to get in quick, and hopefully unseen while quiet. 

:'''{{#var:8020|Alopex (8020)}} has posed:'''     Seems like Alopex appreciates just how much gear Donnie is carrying along. The zipline especially gets her attention, "Okay, consider this me asking for one of those for Christmas," she quips before heading down the line after the tech turtle to head inside. 

:'''{{#var:1092|Natasha Cranston (1092)}} has posed:'''     The bright flares from furnaces in the dim lighting creates sharp contrasts and deep shadows -- in other words, an environment perfectly suited to Natasha's gifts. Once inside, she makes her way through the forges and manufacturing benches to a position near the catwalk where Karai and the as yet unidentified woman are standing, close enough to overhear... 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     As Leo and Pippi break and enter, there is a definite metal ping that rings through the door. Inside, though, the noise is fairly significant enough that people inside most likely couldn't hear it. People outside might be another story.     The heat is a stark contrast to the cool night air outside as molten glass is structured into form, filling into small figures that stop and start as the golden fluid fills them, and then moves to the cooling area. Chess pieces. Those pieces are going into glass chess sets, some set up to be frosted, others clear.     "They are slightly behind schedule," Karai says, "I am told an issue with one of the units slowed their production." She pulls a wooden box, opening the latch to reveal a finished product lined with felt. Maybe a set worth about $20. Kitsune reaches in, pulling out the frosted queen. She pauses, arching one brow, and turning around to scan the equipment. As if she heard something, or was tapped on the shoulder. Without looking back, she replaces the piece. "We have company," she says. "Something...in the shadows."     Outside, as Donatello and Alopex's zipline is put in place, four more ninjas alight the roof across from them, looking down at the intruders. One with a pair of nunchaku leaps from the roof, using his weapon to grapple the zip line, coming down after the last group that is intent on entering, while the other three rush to the nearest roof access ladder. 

:'''{{#var:1092|Natasha Cranston (1092)}} has posed:'''     ... Now /that/ is interesting. Very few people indeed are capable of detecting the Shadow's presence when she doesn't want to be seen. This woman is clearly more than she seems - not that she needed the additional confirmation.     Of course, if she truly is detected in here, things just got significantly more risky. Natasha silently draws her guns even as she shifts positions, headed for a better vantage point from which to either fight or retreat as the situation requires. 

:'''{{#var:1468|Leonardo (1468)}} has posed:''' Leonardo again motions for Pippi to follow, finger up to his mouth before he gestures in the direction of a few crates stacked to one side near said door of entry. The boost in temperature is almost overwhelming at first, almost literally like stepping from the freezer to the furnace with no warming up period, but he wills any of the body's complaints away. Brows squint at what's being made here. Chess pieces? Surely there's something more to it than this. The Foot couldn't just be mass-marketing a slightly more fancy version of the game for what amounts to pocket change, could they? He looks momentarily confused to Pippi, then crouches at the mention of company and shadows. His katanas are out, and he is prepared. 

:'''{{#var:96|Donatello (96)}} has posed:''' Seeing the tension bob in the zip-line, Donnie turns to see the Soldier coming their way, "Totes, Alopex. Top of the list eh?" checking speed, height, and distance (he doesn't want to kill anyone) the tall turtle pulls a small knife from his belt and slashes at the line in the hopes of fraying and cutting it, to send the man falling, "Little help and we'll boogie in eh?" 

:'''{{#var:8020|Alopex (8020)}} has posed:'''     Company? Hmph! "I guess they want one too? GET YOUR OWN!" The fox barks out before catching sight of what Don's about to do. It gets the fox to drop off the line a little early, but that gives her time to steel herself in case any of the soldiers are able to brace themselves for the sudden drop of the line. The techie gets a nod to his question, "Super easy, barely an inconvenience." 

:'''{{#var:8130|Pippi (8130)}} has posed:'''     Pippi follows behind. She shifts her weight, trying to sort thorugh all the smells. Melting silica for the glass, she knew what glass smelled like, and the addition of the heat was making everything more noticiable. Scent carries better in heat and moisture, after all, and her tail curls slightly, looking back to Leo in an equally confused look, and then she begins to snuff about, drawing around the back of him to try and pick up on unusual smells, trying to be mindful of the dust that can build up.... wouldn't do to sneeze and give them completely away! 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     The Japanese woman continues to scan. "Interesting..." she says, and turns her head before her eyes back to Karai. "These will do quite nicely. I will place the spell on them shortly and then we will ship them to Gotham. Notify me when the rest of the shipment is ready. Send these to the storage facility."     "Yes, grandmother," Karai says with a bow. The woman certainly doesn't seem old enough to be her grandmother, her appearance in the mid thirties. Oddly enough, she does not seem to detect the turtle and dog that are skulking about, or at least she isn't showing any signs of it as she simply folds her hands back into her pockets.     Outside, the first Foot finds himself falling a little earlier than anticipated, and he lands hard. That's probably a broken leg. He grips his leg, body language sharing what his facial expression must be beneath the mask while two of the others manage to land after sliding down the ladder, the third sliding down it behind them. 

:'''{{#var:1468|Leonardo (1468)}} has posed:''' Leonardo makes room for Pippi, but what he's hearing confirms his suspicions that there's something much more dark and dastardly going on here. Spells? Gotham? A storage facility was mentioned, but...he hesitates. They could step out and break the whole thing up, but it might not get them very far. In that moment, he makes a quick decision, turning to Pippi, voice hushed and low. "Fall back outside. We do not engage tonight." Meanwhile, he's on the comms the Turtle Crew has as he cautiously sneaks back out the way they came, hopefully without anyone having come to check the door yet. <<They're making chess pieces and putting spells on them, talking about sending them to Gotham City. They're going to take these to a storage facility. They need to be followed and we need to let someone in Gotham know. Let's get out of here before we're made.>> Part of this goes against the urge to stop the Foot when the chance is there, but part of being a proper ninja is subterfuge, secrecy, and in this case, keeping an eye on the greater prize. Now is not the time to risk the chance at doing greater damage to the Foot later. 

:'''{{#var:8130|Pippi (8130)}} has posed:'''     Pippi detects nothing by smell that was unusual, and her ears were distracted, listening for more Foot, but the talk of magic spells and Gotham has her give just the quietest growl, drawing her fingers up, her lip curling back a sshe goes to break the whole thing up -- but Leo's voice makes her stop, she gives a huff of breath through her nose, and gives a nod, turning to follow the Leader, giving a soft huff in the direction of Karai and her grandmother as she follows Leo out of the building, her tail stiffened in aggression.     Just what *were* they doing? 

:'''{{#var:1092|Natasha Cranston (1092)}} has posed:'''     More magic. Shrouded within the power that clouds minds, the Shadow scowls, recalling the gambit with the Coins. Somehow, she suspects that these won't be nearly so benign; a quick mental note to have her agents within Gotham, as well as the Birds, on the lookout for these chess sets and retrieve one for analysis, and she withdraws, making her way to the nearest exit... 

:'''{{#var:96|Donatello (96)}} has posed:''' Fall back? "Maaan..." Donnie grumbles as he taps the mute on the piece affixed over his 'ears'. "Ok, guess we're making tracks eh? Don't let them know folks are inside." whispered before he re-opens his line, <<"We'll make it look like we're solo. It'll be a little grumpy out here so you can be unnoticed">> And with that Donnie starts running, slapping a button on his belt to summon the Stealth Bike. "It's gonna get cozy on the bike, hope you don't mind snuggling!" laughing as he attempts to clothesline a foot soldier on his way towards the street while the bike comes rolling in, out of stealth mode so it can be heard. 

:'''{{#var:8020|Alopex (8020)}} has posed:'''     Hmm. Fall back is the order? It's a little surprising considering the number of them present, but she'll go with it. Leo usually had good reasons, good instincts, so she'll trust him here. Magic? .. That surprises her. "Since.. when..?" she trails to herself before Donnie's question and the approaching bike shake her out of it. "Eh? Oh. Right. It's fine if we can beat feet and not have to worry about these guys." Don settles one down, and a quick thrusted fist to the gut, followed by a sweep, should settle the other, before she goes and stands over the one with the hurt leg. "Reconsider your life. I did," she offers in a stern tone before moving to follow purple. 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     The papers in the office don't have Gotham as a destination, contrary to the claims of Kitsune. They have a warehouse connected to StockGen listed here in NYC, so either that shows the truth of the matter, or else there was a further deception going on.     Kitsune's gaze shifts as Leo whispers to Pippi, her eye falling on the blue banded turtle. She doesn't say anything. She doesn't declare their presence and demand them to be apprehended or killed. She just...looks at him, and then turns back away, a disturbingly sly smile on her face.     Outside, the poor Foot soldier takes the clothesline, and Alopex makes quick work to knock the others back enough that they don't have opportunity to follow. Regarding what is at work here? Well, that's something that still has yet to be discovered, no doubt it will be another chapter. 
}}

9825/City Fall: Enemy Mine

2019-10-29T19:25:41Z

GodsKnite: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2019/10/29 |Location=Fisk Towers, Midtown |Synopsis=Wilson Fisk seeks an alliance with his arch foe, the Daredevil. |Cast of Characters=1233,89 |Ca..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2019/10/29
|Location=Fisk Towers, Midtown
|Synopsis=Wilson Fisk seeks an alliance with his arch foe, the Daredevil.
|Cast of Characters=1233,89
|Cast of NPCs=356
|Tinyplot=City Fall
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     It used to be that Fisk's men were crawling around Hell's Kitchen, before the Foot took over. It can't be denied that the crime is a bit less chaotic than it has been. It's almost as if there's an army guarding the streets at night. If only that army was the good guys. The crime that has been happening often is undiscovered until it's too late. with the Foot Clan's propensity for covertness, the cancer of crime hides beneath the surface.     Fisk himself had aligned with the Shredder until the Hook Drug had come out, and he decided that it was greener pastures to go it without the Foot.     Since the Foot's public declaration of war, Fisk's men have been almost invisible, doing whatever can be done to stay quiet, and stay out of sight. Normal ways to get the attention of a street hero like the Daredevil...well, they aren't very effective since the Foot is likely to have someone closer to the action given their network is quite literally everywhere in the city. So what did he do? He hired some kids to do vandalism. Something too low level for the Foot to care about, but in hopes to gain Murdock's attention. The kid had a letter from the Kingpin himself, though he may not be called that as of late. He wanted to meet at Fisk Tower, and he had a proposition for him. 

:'''{{#var:89|Matt Murdock (89)}} has posed:''' As it turned out, Fisk's plan worked. Matt hadn't been in the suit much, he'd been too busy saving the world in the court of law. Foggy was happy, Karen too, Elektra, of course when they talked on the phone, was midly amused. Matt though was antsy, he needed to get out so a little 'broken windows' vigilantism was just what he needed. Unfortunately nothing's ever that easy. He found the note, and once the kids had been run off he removed his glove and ran his fingers over the page, his delicate senses picking up the indentations and the feel of ink well enough to read the invite. "Fisk," he says as he crumples the note and tossed it into the gutter. A few hours later, Daredevil appears at Fisk Tower after spending some time sussing it out with his senses making sure there wasn't a trap waiting for him. When he's sure, he simply walks up to the door, arms raised, and lets Fisk's people take him to the man himself. 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     There is mild surprise by one of the security, and a deadpan response from the other, perhaps indicating a difference between their experience. All the same, there's a little bit of a quickened pulse from both of them. The Daredevil has long been a terror on their activities. They did as they were instructed, and soon the Daredevil is several stories up past the chandeliers of the lobby and to the chandeliers of a small meeting room. Not a board room, there's no sense of windows that come from an external wall. Just a small meeting room in one of the inner offices of the building. Fisk is already there by the time Matt arrives, sitting plainly in his white suit, not that Matt ever could see the color. His pulse is steady, which is probably not a surprise, and he glances up in Matt's direction as the door is opened, a remarkably neutral expression on his face. He doesn't stand. 

:'''{{#var:89|Matt Murdock (89)}} has posed:''' Matt's stance is neutral as he's lead into the room, but his senses are kept sharp, focused on his surroundings, wary for any trap he might have missed. After all, he was in the belly of the beast. Then it happens, he's face to face with Fisk across the small meeting room, that's when tension shows in how he holds himself, as he restrains the urge to leap across the table and lay into the man with his fists. "You wanted to talk, I'm here, so talk," Matt says without concern for any of Fisk's vaunted civility. 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     "Always so quick to go to the meat, aren't you?" comes the Kingpin's response. "Let's say what is obvious, then. I hate you. You hate me just as much. Over the years you have been a thorn in my side, and I'd love nothing more than to see you out of my way for good." He runs a finger idly along the edge of the table, and finding an imperfection in the smoothness, digs his fingernail against the offending bump until a small tick sound can be heard as the speck of finish is rectified.     "But you haven't been my concern as of late. Maybe you like that. I'm willing to bet that you don't, though, because I think we both know what my concern has been, and I think he's a concern of yours as well." 

:'''{{#var:89|Matt Murdock (89)}} has posed:''' Matt considers, Fisk, giving one of the impudent grins of his, "Figured I'd save us the aggrivation of being in the same room togeather," he says of getting to the meat. He does however nod at what Fisk has to say. "Yeah, you'd like to take me out, and I'd like to see you rot in jail for the rest of your life," he says, the plates and rough fabric of his suit rasping sightly as he crosses his arms. "You're not wrong," Matt says. "Shredder is definitely a concern, but why the sudden change of heart, Fisk? The way I hear it you were one of the first to sign on with him." 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     "I was," he admits. "And it seemed the right call at the time." One eyebrow cocks upward. "It wasn't quite as lucrative as I hoped it would be. I think it was more profitable before the Foot took control. There are too many restrictions expected of me now." He lets a beat fall. "You know how I hate restrictions. I'm not the only one. From what I understand, you and your friends allied with him against the Hand. He's done what you want, far more order in the streets, but you still want to fight him." 

:'''{{#var:89|Matt Murdock (89)}} has posed:''' Fisk had him there, he had allied with Saki first, to defeat what he felt at the time was a greater evil. He still didn't feel it was wrong, after all it had gotten him Elektra back, but the point stood. "Sure, there's order, but I think we both know Shredder won't stop at the streets, he's been twisting the courts since the beginning and once he's dealt with the holdouts in the underworld, he'll turn his eyes to city hall, if he hasn't already and really be running things." 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     "Oh, his influence there is strong already," Fisk answers. "Very. Gotham is in a civil war, and my expectation is that with the Batman dead, it's likely Shredder will soon control that as well." He takes in a deep breath through his nose. "But Shredder isn't interested in New York. He's interested in everything. New York is just a launching platform. He has plenty of power in cities around the globe, and he thinks he can puppet the world if he can take the right cities and make them fully his." He stands up, that monstrous figure towering high. "I find that to be unacceptable. As much as I thought I could gain by joining with him, the Shredder uses people until he has expended their use. If I follow that line, by the time I have expended my use to him, I won't be able to stand against him." He walks to a painting on the wall, examining it.     "During World War I, there were two detachments at Kovno-Wilna-Minsk. Russian and German soldiers. The winter was harsh, and there was little food in the region. Packs of starving wolves targeted the two groups, and they started to pick off the soldiers one at a time." The Kingpin turns around. "The soldiers used all of their resources to figh back. Even using their grenades, but no matter how many they killed, another pack would soon take the place, drawn by the blood and noise. The German and Russians, both facing defeat, signed a truce, and together, they embarked on a hunt to find every wolf they could in the area, saving all of their lives." 

:'''{{#var:89|Matt Murdock (89)}} has posed:''' It's clear by Matt's frown he hadn't heard of how far things had spread. "Then we need to stop him here, and take down Shredder when we do, so there's no one left to coordinate any other takeovers." There's no reaction to Fisk standing other than a subtle shift in his stance to accomodate for it in any potential encounter. Though at this point that was just precaution. He turns his head towards the painting, but even to Matt's keen senses it was nothing more than a blank shape against the wall, unable to see the gradients of colour, only smell the faint scent of the paint and canvas. Matt takes the story in and nods, "Makes sense," he says of that truce, and the one that was being talked around now. "Though, what happened when the wolves were dead?" He suspected he knew. 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     "Oh, they went back to trying to kill each other, naturally," Fisk says. "I have enlisted others to try to help. I have heard rumors of some mutated animals that have a vendetta against him. I think I met one of them the other night. I want to make sure we understand each other, though. I agree that we should take the Shredder down, because the entire network is built to serve him," he says. "If the network is destroyed, it only delays him, he will try again. We need to kill him, not sent him to jail, as much as it may offend your personal convictions." 

:'''{{#var:89|Matt Murdock (89)}} has posed:''' "Naturally," Matt says, at least they agreed on that much. This deal was temporary, and when it was over, it was back to status quo. That worked for him. The mention of mutated animals get's Matt's head to turn, "What sort of animals?" thinking of the Turtles he'd met in Brooklyn. Though it's the last part where Matt, predictably has a problem. "I can't let that happen, Fisk," he says, even if Saki's death would fix a lot of problems. "So, I know you're going to try, and I'm not going to stand here and debate right and wrong with you. Just know, if I can, I am going to stop it and see him face real justice for his crimes." 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     "Hell seems as true a justice as can be asked for," Fisk answers dryly. "You do what you like, but I am going to kill him. Or we could go around in circles and argue about it until we ourselves are both killed off. I won't make you kill him, but don't think I won't try to kill him myself. He's far too dangerous to leave as a loose end." He places those giant hands on the table. "There was a dog of some sort," he says, "And I know there are turtles of some sort. They've been urban myths for a long time, to see an actual one of them, it was odd. But if they have an axe to grind, all the better." 

:'''{{#var:89|Matt Murdock (89)}} has posed:''' "Not our choice who goes there," Matt says with conviction. "Or who gets sent to judgement." Though they both know Matt doesn't have the reach or the resources to stop Fisk from carrying out his threat. Once Shredder is out of Matt's hands, he's on his own, and given all that he's done, Matt finds he can live with it, and that much shows on his face for Fisk to read. Daredevil might stop an attempt in front of him, but he's willing to go no further than that to save Shredder. "I think I've met the Turtles, I'll reach out," he says. "There a general battle plan or we all just attacking on our own all at once." 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     Fisk doesn't bother continuing the debate. "Doctor Octopus is looking to hit his reputation for protecting his allies. I think someone hit that a little already a while back by posing as the Foot. I never found out who, though." Of course, it was Elektra. "I'm going after his political pull, and a few are going after his finances. We just need someone to go after him." He opens the door. "Happy hunting." 
}}

9711/City Fall: The Stand

2019-10-25T03:57:36Z

GodsKnite: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2019/10/24 |Location=Fisk Towers, Midtown |Synopsis=Wilson Fisk calls a meeting for those who want to fight back against the Foot's control of NYC...."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2019/10/24
|Location=Fisk Towers, Midtown
|Synopsis=Wilson Fisk calls a meeting for those who want to fight back against the Foot's control of NYC.
|Cast of Characters=1233,8925,316,8130,8908,8954
|Tinyplot=City Fall
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     There's little opposition left in the city to the Foot clan. While the Turtles were away, what little power against them has all but evaporated as dissenters either have been killed off, or they have fled the city.     Until one week ago.     Wilson Fisk had been an early supporter of Shredder, he signed on at the ground floor. However, things have not gone quite as he hoped. Everything has gone according to what the Shredder planned, but not according to the profits Fisk hoped to see. It's hurt business. It hasn't helped him reform the city where he wants, and he doesn't always get what he wants in the politics of the new regime.     It was time for a change. The mountainous man pulled his support, and has hired more than a few mercenaries known for their expert capabilities to protect the tower. The Foot knows by now, there's no doubt. The only question is whether he can pull off the cooperation he hopes to pull off, or if he needs to leave the city and regroup. He's rather not do the latter.     He's set aside his conference room in the tower, and in an effort to be a good host, he has refreshments. Veggie trays, crackers, little sausages, and the like cover a black clad table, waiting on those who have received the word, along with clear orders to look out for those who may attempt to infiltrate the meeting. 

:'''{{#var:8925|Samuel (8925)}} has posed:'''     It's odd how someone can get drawn into these things. Take Sam, for example. Two days ago he was out scouting the ground around Times Square for a trip his friends were thinking of going on a few days later. He's less than a few minutes looking around the place when he gets attacked by a small group of street thugs. One very short, very vicious fight later, he's left wondering what has happened to the city he hasn't seen in years, and going on his merry way.     And then less than half an hour later, not only does he run into the Punisher, someone again tries to importune him, with the same results as before. On his way home, there's a message on his phone, with a time and an address.     So here he is, strolling past security as if they don't exist, the teenager dressed in his street clothes as before with the second hand denim jacket and the black cap to hide his hair and shade his eyes, taking the lift up to the conference room. In he walks, taking in every angle and every corner, hands behind his back, wondering just who is summoning him, and why. It had best be worth sneaking out of Westchester for. 

:'''{{#var:316|Raphael (316)}} has posed:'''     The return of the Turtles to New York City had not been as pleasant as they had hoped, no doubt, but only Raphael has an alternate means to potentially get himself into Fisk's meeting on the Foot. And so, despite his concerns with his identity being known by his brother, Raph determines it's time for the Nightwatcher to make a return. He slips into the armor, dented from his last fight, and with a rev of the engine once he hits the open streets, the Nightwatcher rides out, his cycling skills quite honed from his near-nightly rides on patrol as the armored vigilante.     He parks a good way from Fisk Tower, but he has no doubt it's going to be hard going to just break in. But he IS a Ninja Turtle, one of the Foot's greatest enemies, so he's getting in there to figure out exactly what's going on. Even at great personal risk. But would he be mistaken for a Foot, or could he try and talk his way in? Chances are, talking's gonna turn into headbutting and chaining sooner than later, but he knows he can fight well enough. So he decides to go for a stealthy approach, with the idea in the back pocket to let them know he wants to help against the Foot if he gets caught. 

:'''{{#var:8130|Pippi (8130)}} has posed:'''     Pippi is escorted in by a few people in Fisk's employ. The first thing that folks might note about her is she's smaller than the men who escort her in as an 'interested party' in defeating The Foot. The second thing is the fact that there is a canine muzzle sticking out of her hoodie, and her tail, staying low, hanging behind her.     The canine mutant makes her way up to the office feeling horribly awkward, but trying to put on an air of cool. What would Leo do in this situation?     Well, for starters, Leo wouldn't have told two guys discussing how to defeat the Foot that working with 'the good guys' was a 'great' idea, from the sewer drain. 

:'''{{#var:8908|Doctor Octopus (8908)}} has posed:''' Otto Octavius aka Doctor Octopus was a recent returnee, sort of like Fisk himself. Only he came back almost a month ago, and has been doing hit and runs against Foot interests since. No doubt Fisk has heard about Doctor Octopus negotiating with various elements in the city... and tearing to shreds those who would defy him. He hasn't been extremely successful... but he's managed to find a few supporters. Fisk coming back, however... changes things. Instead of coming in through the 'hallways', Doctor Octopus has opted to walk 'up' the side of the building, and come into view from outside, looking in through the window. Otto isn't making any attempt to infiltrate, but he's clearly scoping the place out... before one tentacle opens the window, and the other three tentacles 'walk' into the conference from the outside, before that same tentacle closes the window again. Moving down to the floor, Otto drops onto his own legs, "Fisk. I was wondering if you'd come to your senses anytime soon." Otto almost sneers. "You've never struck me as a man who stays in the background." 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     Fisk stands in his white suit, examining carefully those who enter. Otto is of course a known factor. "Dr. Octavius," he says with a polite nod. "I had heard you came back to town, didn't like the Shredder's offer. Good to have you here. As Pippi enters, there's a certain curious look and a tile of Fisk's head, spotting the nose. "Interesting," he says quietly, only to have the interesting replaced by the entrance of Raphael. As his gaze falls over Raph in his cover and Samuel who is unfamiliar, he speaks, not afraid of the unknown. "And you are?" he asks before motioning to the table of food with that huge paw he calls a hand. "Please, enjoy some refreshments, I am sure a few more will join us, but make yourselves comfortable." He then adds to the Nightwatcher, motioning at his helmet. "Take that off, I won't have anyone in here that I can't identify," he says, a casual order, and a tone that says he expects it to be followed. 

:'''{{#var:8908|Doctor Octopus (8908)}} has posed:''' "I played nice until I could do something about it." Otto replies, "I underestimated the sheer number of idiots supporting the Foot clan. Amazing, how many fools think this would somehow be a worthwhile alliance." Otto walks over to the conference table and sits down. He takes no refreshments, but he /is/ taking the offered chair, "I had heard you were a supporter yourself." Otto looks to Wilson, those safety glasses looking right to Wilson's own eyes, "what changed?" 

:'''{{#var:8925|Samuel (8925)}} has posed:'''     It's certainly an interesting gathering, and Sam keeps an eye on everyone who enters, giving them a once over, doing a quick threat assessment, and taking a spot away from the doors where he has room to fight if need be. He takes note of the canine muzzle sticking out of that hoodie, and makes a mental note, a corner of his mouth lifting in what would threaten to be a smile if only he'd let it. He doesn't.     In fact, he doesn't move much at all, standing at parade rest with his hands behind his back, neither eating nor drinking, listening to everything and saying nothing. At least, until Fisk arrives, and he does a quick mental check for any references he can find. Honestly, it's cheating when you can connect your brain directly to the internet.     "Techno will do for now, Mister Fisk." The voice sounds young, the intonation is utterly without emotion, and the stance just screams 'operative'. But from what organisation? His name certainly isn't familiar. "Let's hear the mission." And possibly he'll expect to discuss payment afterwards. 

:'''{{#var:316|Raphael (316)}} has posed:'''     Having found himself with surprisingly little resistance (aka an escort) up to the conference room and getting a moment or two to look around the room, the Nightwatcher crosses his arms, focused on the mountain of a man that is Wilson Fisk. The rest of the assembly, sans one, is largely unfamiliar outside of news stories and possible nickname associations, though Pippi's presense here immediately puts the turtle on edge. He can't PROVE it's Pippi just from the muzzle, of course, but he's seen her so many times he makes the connection automatically.     Fisk gives his order, and Raphael shakes his head. "All due respect, but I have to keep my face hidden for a very specific purpose, even from this assembly. I am not exactly lauded in the community as I am, and to have my identity known would make it very difficult for me to help you with your problem."     I mean, this part is a lie, since the Turtles always oppose the Foot, but if Leo found out he was part of this meeting in an official capacity on behalf of the brothers? The fact that he had come in the Nightwatcher garb would be the least of his worries.     "They call me the Nightwatcher," he says, "That will have to be good enough." 

:'''{{#var:8130|Pippi (8130)}} has posed:'''     Pippi attempts to keep her cool as Fisk just calls her 'interesting'.     That didn't sit well with her, but her nose twitches, and she turns towards the food, her tail giving a momentary wag and she politely gives a bow to Fisk, and remembers to say "Thank you for your hospitality."      -- and immediately goes to fill a plate with cocktail sausages.     Her ears are up though, and she smelled something familiar, gaze turning to the Nightwatcher before she narrows her eyes, and she sits accross from him. She looks back over to Fisk, and speaks -- and there can be no doubt that it's Pippi under the hood.     "I hang with some old enemies of The Foot." the mutant teen states quietly, "Their cause is my cause, but I came here on my own." 

:'''{{#var:8954|Zorro (8954)}} has posed:''' Zorro was visably scowling as he made his way to the conference room. He had known about The Foot as taking down a small time drug smuggler connected to them and nearly getting decapitated later on by a Foot ninja. Ever since then, he has been trying to find ways to topple them from their perch and end their tyranny in NYC. This, of course, lead him here, thanks to a nessanger from a "concerned party".           He hated Wilson Fisk with a passion, knowing of his status as one of NYC's biggest crime lords and, in his view, one of it's biggest tyrants. But, if it was necessary to topple the bigger tyrant, he would work with him and save him for later. As he walks in, the man in black observes the rest of the people in the room, raising an eyebrow in surprise upon seeing the dog-girl who hit the slum lord in Bushwick with a car door. He then takes a seat and looks around, his disgust not as evident as it was before he came in. 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     "I can respect that," Fisk says to the Nightwatcher. "And you're welcome to keep your identity...But I still personally need to see your face for my own security." He gives a jab of a nod upward, as if to indicate raising the visor. "You understand of course." He doesn't wait for the response, but instead looks back to Otto, and the rest of the gathered. A few others have entered, and he gives a glance in the direction of Zorro. He's heard of him as well, and while he doesn't see all of his face, he seems content that he can identify him. "For most it is a beneficial arrangement," Fisk answers calmly to the doctor. "The financial balance I've found is not what it was. It's not in /my/ best interest anymore. But some of the city's most cunning crimelords still find it in their best interest. They don't have as much as I do, and so for them, it's still step up." He glances around the table. "I assume you all recall the episode just outside that occurred a few weeks ago, when the Shredder had several criminals executed by throwing them to their deaths." He lets the weight of the memory sit for a moment.     "Many of us in this room might not otherwise want to sit at the same table, and I get that. But we all have come here because we have a joint foe that currently has a standing that none of us can personally overcome." 

:'''{{#var:8925|Samuel (8925)}} has posed:'''     'Techno' continues to just stand and listen, refusing to sit, refusing to eat, refusing to drink. Honestly, he's no fun at all. But he does take in everything that is being said... The Nightwatcher's reluctance to show his face, the canine woman's affiliation with a group opposed to 'The Foot', which appears to be the target, and the bold admission by Fisk that he's involved with this group, only to want to take them out for personal gain. Someone had seriously miscalculated his motives here... But on the other hand, fighting evil was its own reward, even if it required the assistance of a lesser evil. And that lesser evil could be addressed in time, especially if it was now known. Given that Fisk doesn't think that some here would speak with him if it wasn't for a common foe, he's pretty certain he can find common ground with some of those here to deal with Fisk afterwards. If he can even be bothered to stretch himself to so byzantine a goal.     "Is there a mission, or are we going to have nothing but grandiloquence from you?" It seems Techno is one of those operatives that don't care much for politics. 

:'''{{#var:316|Raphael (316)}} has posed:'''     The Nightwatcher grunts lightly, weighing his options. With Pippi around, the Turtles already now have a hand in this meeting, but he's kind of up against the wall here. Fisk, certainly, hasn't earned his trust enough be asking such a thing, but on the other hand, if he has insight on the Foot, isn't THAT worth the risk? He takes a deep breath, then nods. "Very well, but my identity does not leave this room. If it does, the Foot will be the least of your worries."     He approaches Fisk, watching the man with narrowed eyes, then opens his visor, pointedly facing away from anyone in Pippi's vicinity as he reveals his turtle visage, the red bandana still in place even under the helmet. He gives the crime lord a good look, then slides it back into place before turning around. "And I will know if you divulge. I have sources that would not hesitate to inform me." He crosses his arms and leans against the wall, feeling a sinking feeling in his guts as he does.     How much did Fisk know about the Turtles, he wonders. Enough to put the color to the name? 

:'''{{#var:8130|Pippi (8130)}} has posed:'''     Pippi keeps taking looks over to Nightwatcher, her eyes narrowing, and then to Zorro. The only two in the room she's ever encountered. She rubs the back of her head a moment, pulling her hood forward a bit, and she tries to be casual, leaning lightly against the table as she snacks on those cocktail sausages, which provide Raphael some cover for his scent. Spicy sausage is a better focus than turtle, after all, and he canine seems distracted enough to not notice.     She wisely doesn't say much, but seems to echo 'Techno's' sentiment. 

:'''{{#var:8908|Doctor Octopus (8908)}} has posed:''' "Simpletons that had no plan, but resisted regardless. Brave, but foolish." Otto notes aloud, one of his tentacles moving to grab a pitcher of water, another going for a glass, and moving to pour himself a glass in front of himself. "There was no substance behind their work. No... intellect. I've been in the shadows too long and people underestimate what I'm capable of constantly these days. Annoying, but I'm working to educate them." Otto leans forward, Wilson seeing his own reflection in his safety glasses. Then, he looks to Samuel, "This is bigger than you, child. You could do all the missions you like, but without alliances, the Foot have the whole tri-state underworld in fear. Even Metropolis has a Foot presence now." 

:'''{{#var:8954|Zorro (8954)}} has posed:''' Zorro watched in silence as the kid questioned Fisk. His eyes widened a bit as he saw the black armour wearing man takie off he helmet, revealing a face with turtlish features on it. He stifles back a surprise gasp with a suddenly swig of water. He then glares at Fisk and says in a deep, slighty accented voice,           The only reason I am here Senor Fisk is to topple Shredder's tyranny. My question is, what is stopping you from killing all of us once this is done?"           Zorro's voice, of course, was deeper then his Hector Rodriguez voice. 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     Fisk watches closely, his face not moving as Raphael raises the visor. He doesn't give any emotional response, but nods. He turns to walk back to the head of the table, and looks at Raphael once more before placing his hands on the back of the executive chair at the head of the table. He let's Otto's comment to Samuel be enough of an answer, and squeezes the head cushion before speaking.     "I give you my word, that I will not hunt any self-fashioned heroes down on account of working with me. In this venture." The last three words seem to have extra weight, indicating he promises nothing in the event of further meddling in his affairs. "And a man in my position must keep his promises if he wants anyone to believe his threats." He leans over the chair, squeezing it again as if angry with it.     Fisk voice raises in volume, but maintains the same tone as he continues. "There is no mission," he declares, "It is not as simple as a singular operation. What I propose is that we work to undermine the Shredder's control. Optimally before he has us all hunted down and killed." He lets go of the cushion, splaying out his fingers. "The question is, how do we convince the rest of the city to part ways with him." An arch of his brow, glancing around the room, as if to say the floor is open. 

:'''{{#var:8925|Samuel (8925)}} has posed:'''     "Why should I care that one crime lord is afraid of another? What would it matter that one criminal organisation consumes another through prowess or greed?" is Techno's reply, looking Otto directly into the goggles. "Eventually all balance shifts. If a group as large at this Foot even exists, it's only a matter of time before internal strife takes them apart again. Case in point, this very meeting."     Techno then looks over to everyone else in turn, ending with a look at Fisk who is showing signs of agitation and anger. Never a good look for a leader, and Sam's esteem for the man drops even further. "If there is no mission then you've wasted my time. You're wasting everyone's time. Either you call us because you want to take charge of this fight against the Foot, or you turn this into a committee of hopeful heroes and scared criminals. Everything you've said clearly indicates you want to be on top of the heap when this Foot is defeated. And yet you refuse to take charge of this effort. It's no wonder you've been outplayed." 

:'''{{#var:316|Raphael (316)}} has posed:'''     Raphael offers a nod as Fisk looks in his direction. The big man echoes exactly what Raph would say if he weren't in his Nightwatcher persona, his brashness no doubt getting the best of him when the veil of secrecy need not apply. "I can respect that, for now," he says, "And well said in that regard. I can appreciate the value of backing up one's words to ensure that said word is trustworthy." While he's not a fan of Fisk, certainly, he can at least show a respect for him. He knows how to get things done for sure.     When Fisk mentions what he wants done, or rather his end goal, Nightwatcher does actually have ideas in this regard. "The easiest way would obviously be taking out the head of the Foot Clan. However, that is far easier said than done. The surest way to break the Foot's control is to undermine their efforts. Show the people there is a different way, or show them that there are consequences for being allied with them. I choose the former route, to show the cracks and strains of their hold and try to show people the evil they represent. And I don't harm civilians, despite what one among our current number may have 'witnessed' to the contrary. However... if you are serious about breaking Foot control, and some are resistant..." He lets the statement hang, before rounding toward Techno. "Yes, because that is a sound way to progress the conversation," he says, resisting the urge to Raph out and lunge at him, "Are you so bereft of concern that you have nothing to contribute?" 

:'''{{#var:8908|Doctor Octopus (8908)}} has posed:''' "You clearly don't understand what you got yourself involved in." Otto looks to Samuel, his frown evident, even through the safety glasses, "The Foot clan itself is a united front, and they've been using their skill and resources to create a stranglehold over organized crime in the region for months." The water is sipped from a tentacle, before he looks to Fisk, "You have better intelligence than I do, likely. You'll want to explain the situation for everyone else." Then, he leans back, "break his stranglehold on the police, and cut off financial support to make their profits fall for as long as they support the Foot clan. You said it yourself, they profit, you don't." Otto sneers, then, "The only reason I haven't been able to do serious headway is lack of intel. If I know where the weakpoints are, I can break them." As if to emphasize his point, two tentacles shoot up in the air and snap their pincers, menacingly, above him. 

:'''{{#var:8130|Pippi (8130)}} has posed:'''     Pippi suddenly gets a worried look, glancing around the table. There's no mistaking she's non-human, but she had little desire to start making plans on behalf of Alopex and The Turtles, but she looks thoughtful a moment.     "The Foot Clan -- and the Shredder -- have hands in too many things for one group to take them on alone." she states, and she scratches at her muzzle, where a scar lingers right accross it. "An' I know a few who wouldn't mind paying Him back... I can't make any plans on my group's behalf... but I can act as messenger." she states, unsure."... but if it means breaking the hold the Foot have on the city, I can't see them sayin' no."     She doesn't look at Nightwatcher. She's mad at him for hurting Raphael. 

:'''{{#var:8954|Zorro (8954)}} has posed:''' Zorro rubs his chin for a bit, as if in deep thought. Everyone, except for the kid Nightwatcher was yelling at have actually offered pretty darn good ideas. Zorro then says," What i sugest is taking down some of his "partners". As you all know, Shredder has been recruiting crime bosses all over The Tri-city area to join his "organization". I am figuring that if we take down some of his allies, or at least cripple them, it may scare the rest into pulling out of their alliance with Shredder and discourage any more late comers from making deals with the Foot." 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     It looks as if Fisk might give a punch to Samuel himself, but as others admonish him, he stays his hand and his tongue, and instead addresses others present. "Taking them down, making them fear their security could help," he says. "But there are so many it would be like the hydra of fable," he observes. "If we can make them believe that the Foot does not have their best interest at heart. That the Foot will in fact betray them, then..." he makes a mock frown. "The problem may take care of itself."     So we have three things to accomplish then, as the good doctor has pointed out a few. Politically, if we break the hold on the police, the amnesty he offers his allies will dissolve. If we break the financial flow, the prosperity he offers will dissolve. And if we break the trust, the loyalty they offer him will dissolve. So who in this room can break what?" 

:'''{{#var:8925|Samuel (8925)}} has posed:'''     "Your scope is too narrow." Techno replies to both Nightwatcher and Otto. "Your focus has been on this city and the areas just beyond. My concerns so far have been more global. I could hardly be expected to care about a single city, or even a small organisation that has tentacles in three. But don't mistake my reluctance to jump in feet first with indifference. I tend not to make a move without information." And for the first time since entering the room, Techno moves. His hands unclasp from behind his back, and he takes a few measured strides towards the table.     "You all have experience with local crime and local issues. You see the city as the totality of the battle ground, and that's why you're not getting anywhere. To deal with a threat of this size requires you to think bigger, to consider more variables." He looks around the room again, those unnaturally blue eyes holding gazes for a few moments before moving on. "You have to think of this as a military operation, rather than a street fight. So let us begin at the beginning." He's seen them all react to his style, heard what they had to say, and measured their responses. Now, at least, he knows what he has to work with. Now he knows what sort of team this might become.     "Assets. You've all identified assets within your own sphere of influence. You're aware of them, you have considered them, and that is good. But you've fixated on them, which isn't. The assets in play, both ours and theirs, are but a small piece of the equation. We need to know more to properly plan a campaign. First of all, logistics. We need to know where they get their equipment, what they do with their gains, how they spend and invest their liquid assets, and what kind of static assets they command. Warehouses, forges, distribution centers, vehicle parks, bolt holes, safe houses, the list goes on. We need a list of them, both in this city, and for the whole tri-city area."     "Following, communications. This group is too large to have a single means of messaging or contacting members. We need to expose their communication network, infiltrate or dismantle it, and use that intelligence against them. Preferably without them becoming aware we've done so."     "Next, organisation. This group is, again, too large to have a single head." he glances around "Trust me, I know about the advantages of a diffuse leadership." And then back to topic. "Identify sub groups, regional commanders, their own subordinates and the types of crime they are responsible for, all the way up the chain. These are our HVTs."     Another glance around. "Any questions so far?" 

:'''{{#var:316|Raphael (316)}} has posed:'''     Raphael, from behind his visor, blinks as Fisk speaks, then even more as Samuel does. As he listens, his fists clench and unclench, as though he wants to punch the smartass right in his face. But as he listens, he realizes something: the kid is talking sense, and with a wisdom far beyond what he looks like he should be capable of. Sure, Raph could bluff, but at the end of the day, he's still a teenager. This Techno, on the other hand...     What's his deal, anyway?     And so Raph crosses his arms, looking between Fisk and Samuel for a long moment. "I can see now why HE'S here," he says, "He has a point, but my focus is local. New York City is my home, and breaking the Foot's hold on IT is my primary concern. So while our genius over here helps with the big picture, I'll see what I can do about starting small. Breaking the smaller holds as we can uncover them and shake their control in neighborhoods first, just to prove it can be done. And then we can scale up. Does that sound reasonable?" 

:'''{{#var:8130|Pippi (8130)}} has posed:'''     Pippi rubs her hand against the back of her hood, and she weighs considerations. "I can help rack down safehouses, provided I've got a partner who can move. An encounter with the foot and tagging them with some strong scent would mean they can't really deec tech bugs, but I should be able to follow the marker pretty closely. Tag the house, raid it, let them know they're not safe there either. More they sweat, the more they make mistakes." Pippi adds thoughtfully, then turns to Nightwatcher, and gives a nod.     "Ours too. We have to make sure my group is secure before we move to other areas." 

:'''{{#var:8908|Doctor Octopus (8908)}} has posed:''' "Looking global is a mistake." Otto counters to Samuel, "Their stranglehold is centered on New York. This is where the money goes. Break their hold here, and everything else becomes a matter of pushing the dominos." Otto puts the water and pitcher down, and then brings all four tentacles down to the ground around him. "Dealing with the police should be the priority. They'll do the job for us if we clear house." 

:'''{{#var:8954|Zorro (8954)}} has posed:''' Zorro nods as Techno starts talking, he does make some good points. Zorro takes a sip of water as he says," The kid makes a good point. But, I can't help but agree with Senor Octopus and Nighstalker. The Tri-City is my home first and foremost. The people I swore to protect from the depradations of the coruppt and evil live here. I would focus on toppling their regime here before going International. Besides, NYC is a very imprtant area as Octopus pointed out and driving them out of here can help in the long run." 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     Fisk nods. "There are many safe houses. They are promised safety, to disrupt that would certainly shake the confidence. Particularly if it appears they are being disrupted by uncoordinated attacks."     Fisk takes a deep breath, and looks at Samuel. "The Foot have connections around the globe and on virtually every continent. The Shredder has delusions of grandeur, that somehow." He moves his hands outward. "His brilliance and prowess will be able to subdue the world. He wouldn't replace governments, he would just puppet them from behind the scenes, an illuminati of sorts, funnelling power when he desires where he desires." He nods to Zorro. "Yes, New York is a central hub of business and politics around the world. The United Nations meet here, that is why this area is his primary focus."     "For now, it sounds that some of you have ideas on what you might be able to accomplish," he acknowledges. "You can count on my men to back you up if you need help, but if you bite off more than you can chew, don't expect me to bail you out." 

:'''{{#var:8925|Samuel (8925)}} has posed:'''     "Your concern is very valid." Techno says to both Nightwatcher and Pippi, watching them each in turn. "You cannot move if your own base of operations is not secure. And you know the problems in your area best, but consider this..." A slight pause, and he looks first to Pippi. "Your group is fairly secure where it is. Must be, or you wouldn't be here calmly discussing it. Unless I miss my guess and they are on the verge of being wiped out, they are likely to remain secure for a few days longer." Then to Nightwatcher. "And I'm sure you have a group in mind. But what group? What do they do? Who is commanding them locally, who is commanding that commander, and who is below them depending on them not being taken out? More importantly, what are they responsible for? What group is going to take over from them? Know that before you act."     Next he looks to Otto. "Don't misunderstand me, I don't propose we overreach ourselves. The local police are a strategic asset we can use. But it would be a shame to get rid of the foot only to be kicked by the leg it is connected to. Tendrils can spread far..." and now he looks at Fisk. "... and the Hydra isn't mythical."     "If we are going defeat them, it will have to be in a series of focused raids, gaining local superiority. With each group we eliminate, we gain information, as our enemy grows weaker. But we have to hit them everywhere, not just New York, or a new head will grow to replace the one that was lost. But we must have a clear objective for every raid. It would be foolish to defeat a group only to make another one of their sub groups stronger. Every strike must weaken them, perceptibly, and that means going beyond the foot soldiers, beyond the street lieutenants. Our aims must be exact and well defined. It would weaken us to fight, gain a moral victory, and fail to gain a strategic advantage at the same time. That..." and once again everyone gets a glance "... is what will win this fight. Coordinated cooperation. That means sharing information, sharing intelligence, and sharing assets." 

:'''{{#var:8130|Pippi (8130)}} has posed:'''     "Eeeeither waaaay..." Pippi goes to stand, keeping her hood firmly down. "I'll deliver a message about the idea to my f- my superiors, and they will contact you if they think it's vis... buya.. if it's a good idea." the canine states, and she quietly stretches her fingers a moment, then makes a sort of stiff, unpracticed bow.     "Thank you again for your invitation and hospitality. I'll... ah... see myself out." she adds awkwardly, and turns, making her way out.     Oh, but there's going to be a looong conversation with Leo and Alopex when she gets back to the lair! 

:'''{{#var:316|Raphael (316)}} has posed:'''     Raphael listens again, to all parties and nods. Sam, of course, earns a bit of his ire again, but he merely gives a clipped, "Noted," in response. He knows that he speaks truth, of course, but at the same time he also hates the sense he gets from the boy. Something about him and the way he talks gets him riled. "We'll start an investigation, and then we can start working on attacks. I'll see what I can do alone, and then try and coordinate with others here to make big moves. But, until then..."     Until then, he has to work on acting surprised to hear that Pippi was here too.     "Have a good evening. I have my patrols to make." 
}}

8337/City Fall: Who Invited You

2019-10-17T13:31:16Z

GodsKnite: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2019/07/16 |Location=Iceberg Lounge, Central Heights |Synopsis=Damian tries to pose as a League of Assassins representative to intimidate Shredder...."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2019/07/16
|Location=Iceberg Lounge, Central Heights
|Synopsis=Damian tries to pose as a League of Assassins representative to intimidate Shredder.
|Cast of Characters=1233,973,193
|Tinyplot=City Fall
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     Business is good.     Penguin stands by the bar, hobnobbing with a few of his associates over a martini. He laughs that classic repetitive staccato of a laugh in response to a joke, and pulls a cigar from his pocket, happily sniffing it over his long birdlike nose.     "Yes, well, I think you'll find that I have all of the Mayor's best traits, and none of his lesser traits," he tells the other man. "But, if you'll excuse me, I need to go refresh myself for a moment."     The truth was he didn't want to have to talk with the man any longer, a supporter of the current mayor, Oswald Cobblepot had no use for such rabble. He grabs one of the women that serves the drinks by the arm, "Go chat with that nobody over there so he won't notice that I don't come back," he orders, then releases her arm in his overly cliche manner. These days the Penguin can choose who he has to impress. These days he is at the top of the food chain in Gotham, since he made friends with the Foot.     He makes his way back to his cigar room, pulling his cutter from his pocket and clipping the end of it.     Outside, of course, the Iceberg lounge is as well guarded as it ever is. Thugs of various sorts, four guard the rear entrances, two the front. On the roof, he's started to lose the edge of security, as only two are on top. For all of his normal severe security, it's grown weak. There aren't many who would dare challenge him these days. And while it's busy for a Monday, the Lounge is mostly populated by the after work crowd tonight, some of them even have the nerve to come without a suit jacket.     Rabble. 

:'''{{#var:973|Damian Wayne (973)}} has posed:''' Damian lowered the magnification on his mask to basic view he crouched in the shadows previously waiting for the man to isolate himself to make their job a bit easier. He talked in a low voice which he found harder to hear then whispering, "Remember the plan I will approach the Penguin, and you start taking down his people." he looks over at the building then back at her. He shakes his head, "Nothing fancy, and we don't kill for free remember that." and he pulls out the grappling rope. It had been a while since he did it old-school like this, but it was technically the quietest way so a couple of swings and off it goes the hook not clanging since he had long replaced the metal for a softer surface. Getting it in one he turns looking at her one last time, "If for some reason this goes poorly, get away and get help. I will be okay." then turns to swing off Penguin's direction. Of course he uses the cable to swing over, and then drop nearby Penquin from above. Which would look strange as someone dressed mainly in black but a White Mask lands that quickly yet they make no noise in the landing itself. The figure looks at you, "Coblepot... The League summons you." he doesn't pull out a weapon or even move agressivly, despite the shock of his sudden apperance he waves a hand to the cigar room he was heading to. "Shall we talk, Or must I display pofitless violence to get your attention." the voice is mechanical, and the person doesn't move staring at Coblepot from behind the mask waiting. He wasn't sure where this was going to go, but he knew if his grandfather had sent him to fetch someone this is dang near what he would do, maybe stab a few people other then asking. 

:'''{{#var:193|Kate Kane (193)}} has posed:''' Kate Kane is dressed similarly to Damian, a mask over her face and hood covering her hair. The functional clothing fits well enough, and the eyes are definitely those of a woman. "Of course we don't." she replies. "I'm all about military efficiency, remember?" She doesn't respond to the secondary orders to go for help if things go badly. There's no need, really. While Damian swings down to drop in on the Penguin, quite literally, Kate pauses for a moment. Up in the rafters of the high ceiling, her outfit and her training make the woman practically invisible. She is waiting. Waiting to fulfill the request for needless violence. 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     Oswald was just lifting his liter to the end of the cigar when he hears the voice behind him. He jumps a little, and his round little body turnes around. "What-what?" he flaps his elbows slightly in surprise, but of course he has the regal demeanor still not to drop his cigar. He studies the white mask for a moment. It's not every day he meets someone at eye level.     His monacle'd eye looks down and then up Damian. "A short one, aren't ya?" he asks. "You think you can just come in here and bully me in my own establishment? What would the League want with me?" He reaches into his pocket, and pulls a small rod from the jacket. He snaps it outward and it unfolds into a cane, and speaks into the end. "We have an uninvited guest in the cigar room. Gentlemen, if you please..." Apparently his first instinct is not to take this very seriously.     At the back door, the mostly lazy guards come to attention as their ear pieces activate and deliver the news. Scrambling, they start to rush inside, through the kitchen, and begin to make their way toward the cigar room. Of course, they have the good manners not to pull their pistols before entering the cigar room. 

:'''{{#var:973|Damian Wayne (973)}} has posed:''' The figure does not move at first, though gives Penguin a small nod he understood this was their language, and he had learned it well. "Your men will not be coming Oswald,." the voice talks following him quietly taking a seat across from him. He does not seem to be distrubed by his attempt to call though, the short man looks at him quietly, "I was sent here to have a talk as you did something you should not of done." he falls silent a moment thinking about how to continue. He starts again, "My grandfather believes that you did not know about the arangement, but saw you working with outsiders. Bringing them into Gotham." the same smooth mechanical tone comes through as though it is translating. He doesn't seem to move again just sitting perfectly still to the point if he fit in you might lose sight of him he still doesn't draw his weapon on him as he did not see that threat was needed yet. "You have decided to put yourself between us and them. I am here to make sure you fix it." 

:'''{{#var:193|Kate Kane (193)}} has posed:''' That is the cue that Kate was waiting for, of course. The US Military trains its soldiers to dispatch the enemy as quickly and efficiently as possible, with whatever means necessary. Special Forces teams receive additional training as well, especially in the area of hand-to-hand combat. Kate Kane trained with the Green Berets, among other world-class experts. The first thug doesn't even know what hits him, breaking Kate's fall with her feet in his back. The second goes down before he even realizes that they're being attacked. Two on one are more even odds, relatively speaking. But only relatively. The door to the cigar room opens, and a taller (and female) figure steps inside without a word. Folding arms over her chest and stepping to one side so that she can watch the club as well as the room. 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     "Your grandfather?" Oswald speaks around the cigar as the musty smoke fills the air around him. He snaps his cane up as if in a salute. He chuckles, and uses his free hand to free the cigar, blowing out the smoke. "Now then, you mean to tell me that the League didn't know the Foot moved in?" He cackles a little, moving around to the front of Damian's seat, then slaps the coffee table before it with his cane.     "You say that as if I had some choice in their arrival," he says. "Or as if they haven't been here the whole time." He indicates indirectly around the room, sweeping the cane. "Look at this, this building. It's magestic, see? The League didn't built it. The Foot didn't build it. I built it. I am Gotham's best shot at the future. The people of Gotham just had yet to realize it. He puts the cane tip back on the floor, and his free hand rubs on top of the one holding the cane, cigar between two fingers.     "Always trusting in a maniac who dresses like a bat to save them. And the League, the lot of you just want to burn it to the ground." He jabs a thumb at his chest. "My city!" He pops up to his toes and back down again as he declares it. "But that's all right. We found our own answer to the Bat. The underground of Gotham has its own hero. Cleaning the streets like the Bat can't. Purifying-" he raises his dark thin eyebrows "-the way the League can't. But being the genius that I am? I knew where to stand when they made their move."     Just then the door opens, a smug grin on the Penguin's face turns to greet his...no, not his men. A paler shade of pale comes over his face. That's not what he expected to see. 

:'''{{#var:973|Damian Wayne (973)}} has posed:''' Damian in his disquise looks over at Penquin as Kate also in disquise comes in where his men were expected. Damian gives a small smirk behind the mask, and leans back folding his hands infront of him. What he had done was put a small fold burner phone on the table when the man was turned. He could of done a lot worse, but the threat right now was in the undercurrents of what this means. He looks calmly at the man declaring this city his, and holds up a hand. "If you wish to continue your dealings without our interferance then you will call him. Tell him what he has done, and that we are here." he lowers his hand the mask still just unmoving staring at him. He finally continues, "I do not think we need to go over or elses here, am I right?" he asks to the other person just as quiet as he is now either behind Penquin, or infront if the man was foolish enough to not watch him. His voice is calm, almost like this is exactly why he had come here, though he knew Penquin as he lived here too, "Do it, and you get out of this directly, and I am sure you can forget about us shortly." 

:'''{{#var:193|Kate Kane (193)}} has posed:''' For her part, Damian's partner remains stationed by the door. Quiet. Stoic. Impassive. Kate is here for backup. Silent support. A visible token of potential retribution. And she plays the part well. Yet for all that, she isn't relaxing. Just because the visible threats have been removed doesn't mean they're home free. Not by a long shot. 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     Penguin shakes his chubby shoulders, and points his cane at Kane. "And who's she? You think the two of you want to tangle with the Foot?" He takes another step back, and then fishes his lighter from his change pocket. A lighter in the shape of his self-proclaimed moniker. He lights the cigar, and takes a puff.     "Okay," he says, "We can do that. You may wish I hadn't, though." He takes his cane and hooks it over his arm, and then takes the free'd up hand and puts it inside his coat pocket before pulling out his cell phone. He glances up at Damian, then Kate, and back at his phone, his stubby fingers dialing the number. 

:'''{{#var:193|Kate Kane (193)}} has posed:''' Kate's gaze shifts between the Penguin and Damian, her posture not shifting in the slightest. Military training, and all that. She remains impassive as the smaller partner casually destroys the cell phone with his bare hands, arms still folded. When Damian locks the door and moves to put distance between them, Kate eases a bit away as well to help with that. Damian's nod is returned, just as subtlely. And with a slight angle change she can still watch the door as well as their quarry. 

:'''{{#var:973|Damian Wayne (973)}} has posed:''' Damian reaches forward in a swift motion grasping the phone he offered, he looks directly at Penguin. "She is one of many.." as he talks the boy listens snatching the phone in anger it gives a small cracking noise as he listens more. In his hands, he is slowly breaking the phone he had offered as he stares at Penquin. "I do, though that is not what I am here for." he stops handing the phone back despite its state as he calms down. He would love to figh this guy, but he must keep the cover as otherwise it could blow the whole gig. He stands walking over to stand looking out the other way he subvocalizes so his mask will transmit to her. "I doubt he will show up himself, though there are many plans in place." giving her a nod before locking the door to enter. If he didn't show up this might be a good time to take care of another issue. He glanced at Kate, with just the smallest of nods so she would see what he was doing. Moving back towards him he veers off one way so he couldn't look at both of them. He wouldn't act yet, he would wait to see what would happen after this call, and if Shredder abandoned his friend, he would just take him down instead. 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     Penguin watches Damian execute the small electronic device as he waits, tapping his foot impatiently as it rings. The voice on the other line speaks before the Penguin can. "He knows." It's a woman's voice.     "Well, that's a bit presumptuous, don't you think?" Penguin says. "You don't even know what I was going to tell you."     "You have visitors from the League." Penguin's eyes open wide enough that the monacle falls from it. Then narrows them. "Okay, so what? Is he sending someone?"     "He already did. Remain calm."     "Belligerant girl, I am calm," Coblepot declares, taking another puff on his cigar deliberately. "Just tell whoever is coming to hurry-" the lights go out.     In the dark, Oswald's voice can be heard. "Really? Must this call for such theatrics?" 

:'''{{#var:193|Kate Kane (193)}} has posed:'''     Kate's role may be one of silent support, but she knows that the lights going out are NOT part of the plan. Speaking into her own subvocal mic beneath the mask, she murmurs to Damian.     "Clear of the door. I have their right." First rule of any military engagement is to deploy the troops and prepare for the worst.     And probably not for the last time this evening, Kate wishes she'd have brought a gun or three. 

:'''{{#var:973|Damian Wayne (973)}} has posed:''' Damian smiles behind the mask, as the lights go out Damian moves for a quick strike on Penquin. He had a nice posion that would knock him out for a bit, so he could talk without having to worry about someone at his back, and it was a posion used in the Loa so he was covered there. If he just knicked the skin enough to get into the blood it was a fast acting, though low duration posion that would knock out just about anyone. After the strike he would finally speak again, "He will be fine, I am not here to injure your associates." to well nothing. He had hopped they were already in here or it would look pretty silly, but he had learned not to underestimate his enemy, so assumed they were at least watching at this point. Either way he is moving to keep an eye on the door, he just sends a return message, "Prob already here.. watch your 6" as he had heard that in Top Gun, and it fit what he ment. If they were league he would be here right now with the others following. 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     Penguin is of course unprepared in the dark for the strike, and goes down without much fight in him.     "Then perhaps you will tell me why you /are/ here."     The lights come back up. Ten dark clad ninjas, one more with a rice hat and a dragon mask stand in the room. They haven't fanned out to surround, but stand at attention along the possible window exits. In the middle of them stands the leader of the Foot himself. The Shredder. His cape is draped behind him, the characteristic blades on his arms and shoulders making him easily recognizable.     "I have no quarrel with the League, and I would expect better manners from your master than to come picking on the likes of..." he looks down at the Penguin. "Him." His stance is almost frozen, not moving, not relaxed, but hardly in a state that says that he's worried. It's a simple square stance, and from behind the shozuko mask, his eyes shift, from Damian to Kate. 

:'''{{#var:193|Kate Kane (193)}} has posed:'''     Kate's military mind runs through more than the usual string of obscenities as the scales tip against their favor. She keeps quiet, however, not even subvocalizing. First, because she's not sure that the man in the rice hat won't hear her anyway. But also because there is no need.     She will follow Damian's lead on this, as agreed. She also knew the risks they were taking in calling out the Foot clan.     But if it comes to fighting, Kate will go down like a soldier. She runs a mental inventory of the various deadly and semi-deadly implements in her 'League' arsenal. 

:'''{{#var:973|Damian Wayne (973)}} has posed:''' Damian looks down at Penquin, then finally turns to look at Shredder, and though he had to hate the guy for what he stood for Damian thought his outfit was way cooler. Focusing in though he steps over Penquin, "I am here because you are entering our territory." he looks up at the large man. "My Grandfather has sent me to explain this to you, as we are sure you were unaware." Damian doesn't make any moves towards Shredder or the foot, as he just looked around a Hbit at their numbers, the pure white mask with a smiple scowl hiding his reaction. "This one, should of known better, but he did not so here we are." he stops, and looks at Penquin. "My orders are clear, no-one is supposed to hear this discussion outside of our collective organizations." he shrugs a bit, then stops falling to a calm stillness staring at the larger man. He messages Kate to prepair to exit, and do not start a fight, as he is walking straight up to the group with no fear. He wasn't sure what would happen next, but it all depended on the reaction of the man infront of him. There were many ways it could go so he had many backups incase this happened, and it looked like he was about to enter plan T neighborhood. He messaged her once more, "When the lights go out again we need to go... Wait, be ready.". All of this done from inside his hud, as he is doing what was said before. 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     The Shredder cooly regards Damian. He doesn't answer. He just stands there, as if expecting something more. Like a monolith, he just stares down at the young man, letting silence fill the air. For the part of the Foot with him, they do not move either, giving no indication of either agreement, disagreement, concern, or dismissal of the statements. 

:'''{{#var:973|Damian Wayne (973)}} has posed:''' Damian cooly looks at him, "Do not misunderstand this is just a warning. I am mearly to state the message for you to remove your pressence. I do not have the authority to say what would happen otherwise as that is up to the Demon." he takes a step back and nods. "The message has been delivered, though I am afraid it is not that simple." He takes another step back slowly, and continues, "Right now this is all just words, so I was ordered to do one more thing before our meeting." He reaches up just a hand, he snapps his fingers and again the lights go out, Kate would get the message 'Go now!' as he speaks to Shredder to cover her stealth, "You interfiered in our buisness so we will interfier in yours. This is the price for your incursion into our territory." of course he is in the dark, and small so would be short and harder to see. He gets ready for what is coming next, as he had planned his own ambush just incase this happened. They should be plenty to cover his exit as he covered Kate's now. 

:'''{{#var:193|Kate Kane (193)}} has posed:''' Kate was waiting for his signal, and now she doesn't hesitate. After all, she promised him that she would. If Damian had wanted someone to remain and be heroic, he should've chosen someone else for backup. With Shredder's ninja are covering the exits, but only one for each. And one-on-one in the dark is much better odds than Kate's used to. She's quick and efficient, and already out of the room before the ninja hits the floor. 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     The Shredder chuckles. It's not a common thing for the master of the Foot Clan, but he does it. Whether The figure before him is truly from the League or not, he does not seem to be concerned. "Tell Ra's that he is welcome to try if he thinks himself able to stop me. He is far too late to be of consequence to me. Gotham is mine." He walks past Damian, heading out the door through the least inconspicuous means. Down the steps, and through the center of the Iceberg Lounge. The message is clear. No one will bother him here.
}}

9402/Some things never change

2019-10-02T20:27:40Z

GodsKnite: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2019/10/02 |Location=Upper East Side, Manhattan |Synopsis=June and Drake run into each other after Drake returns to NYC. |Cast of Characters=1787,1..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2019/10/02
|Location=Upper East Side, Manhattan
|Synopsis=June and Drake run into each other after Drake returns to NYC.
|Cast of Characters=1787,1353
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:1787|June (1787)}} has posed:'''     Park side of the upper east side is close enough to the water within that the air can carry the scent. Scents can cover a variety of things. Like drugs, refuse, or blood. It doesn't cover the sounds of gunshots, though. Which is what just rang out a few moments ago in the space that lies 5th street and the Ancient Playground.     "Fucker you are gonna get us BOTH killed," June cusses as she joins a man in a sprint across the avenue, causing cars to screech to a halt to avoid hitting them. They both vault over the iron gate fence, but he gets caught on the tip of one of them as they enter the playground. His shirt hangs on it, a gun in his right fist. "Dani, I'm caught," he calls out, causing June to stop in her tracks, looking back at him. She wears a pair of shredded jeggings and tight fitting tank top with My Chemical Romance plastered on it. She runs back to him, pulling a kunai from the inside of her hip, and slashing the shirt free. Of course it is hardly good as a garment after this, and the man leaves it behind. He's pretty well built, and the number of tattoos that cover his arms, chest, and back says the man with the beard and shaved head isn't afraid of a little pain. 

:'''{{#var:1353|Drake (1353)}} has posed:''' Out on 'patrol' is Slipstream, who is getting back on his feet now that he's home from College, complete with his degree in video game design. He's taken a sabbatical from the Avengers, though he hasn't dropped word yet back to Mister Stark that he's returned. Maybe he just wants to get his feet wet again, a bit of working out before knocking on the door of his former team. It's the sound of gunshots that cause him concern as he rises upwards from the top of the roof he is stationed on, peering through a pair of night vision binoculars as he tracks the familiar sight of June and some new guy with her. His lips crease into a bit of a frown, followed by a sigh before he tilts his head to see the direction they are coming from and if anyone is giving them chase. 

:'''{{#var:1787|June (1787)}} has posed:'''     "Hey, we can't all be some crazy acrobat," the man contests as June berates him.     "Whatever, just shut up and get moving," June responds, grabbing the shirt off the post and wadding it up to cast it under one of the pieces of playground equipment. "Once they find out you shot a cop you are gonna have more than the Foot to worry about." She shoves him roughly, to continue on along the playground, glancing over her shoulder. However, so far, nobody has shown up to chase them. 

:'''{{#var:1353|Drake (1353)}} has posed:''' Letting out a sigh, Drake tucks the binoculars on to his belt, then takes a running leap off the roof. There's a series of blue streaked blinks before he hits the ground, then zips along the street in pursuit as he pushes himself through the speed vortex. As he zips past them, he turns and comes to a stop, appearing in a burst of blue as he folds his arms over his chest. He's wearing a pair of black jeans, a solid black shirt and a leather Overwatch jacket with the insignia in bright silver on the back. "Hey June." He says, trying to sound confident and not at all an emotional roller coaster at seeing his ex-girlfriend again. "Who you running from?" His eyes move towards the tatted up man, squinting his eyes at her. "New friend?" 

:'''{{#var:1787|June (1787)}} has posed:'''     "Look out!" the man yells as the hero appears before them. He raises the gun, only for June to slap her hand over it and flip the safety on. "No!" June barks.     "What the fuck, Dani?" the man asks. "You think he wants to sit here and talk?"     "Gunter stuff your shit," June answers, not giving any kind of solid explanation. She looks back to Drake, pulling a lock of yellow and red mixed hair from her face. "Hey Drake," she answers, slightly out of breath from her recent sprint. She puts her hands on her hips. "This is Gunter," she says with a sideways tilt of her head to indicate the shirtless man. "Somethin' like that. You're lookin' good. Whaddaya want?" 

:'''{{#var:1353|Drake (1353)}} has posed:''' Flinching as the gun is pulled upwards, Drake throws his hands up and curls them into fists. "What kinda name is Gunter? Sounds like something you'd name your German Shepard." He grunts out. "I heard gunshots and you two hauling ass across the city. I'm pretty sure if I turn my police scanner on it will give me the whole story. I thought you were going to stay in Gotham." He says with a frown, still rocking back and forth on his feet. "What's going on? What kinda trouble did you just get into?" 

:'''{{#var:1787|June (1787)}} has posed:'''     "Yeah, because cops always have the full story," June snidely responds. "I am in Gotham, just had some stuff that called me over here."     When asked about what's going on, Gunter speaks up, "That's none of your fu-"     "Shut up Gunter!" June answers, obviously having not lost her aggressiveness in the last few months. "Hasn't your mouth gotten you in enough trouble tonight?" She looks back to Drake. "It doesn't matter, he's tryin' to hold out against the Foot, because he's a dumbass, and I'm tryin' to help him because I'm a bigger dumbass. Dunno if you've kept up, but most of the police are just lackeys now." 

:'''{{#var:1353|Drake (1353)}} has posed:''' "I haven't been keeping up. I just got back from San Francisco. Was doing some personal stuff." Drake says as he lets out a miserable sigh, giving a glance about. Reaching behind him, he taps the robot that is attached to his shoulder strap. "Snowball. Recon mode." There is a happy chirp of acknowledgement as the frosty droid detaches and floats upwards, scanning about the area as she circles overhead. "I didn't see anyone chasing you after the gunshots went off. Not for a few blocks. Didn't see anything at all. Are you heading back to Gotham then?" He asks as he folds his arms over his chest. "I was hoping that.. you and I could talk later, now that I'm back and maybe work a few things out." He gives a glance go Gunter for a moment, nose scrunching unhappily. "What is he holding that the Foot wants?" 

:'''{{#var:1787|June (1787)}} has posed:'''     June frowns, looks to Gunter. "His freedom," she says. "A few weeks ago, the Foot announced that they were going to keep the streets clean. Dropped some 14 crime bosses offa buildings in broad daylight. Real world talk, anyone not with them is against them."     "A fuckin' monopoly," Gunter says. "I ain't gonna be bitch to no one." He sounds proud of his decision.     "Yeah, bitch to no one," June says, rolling her eyes where Gunter can't see her face. "Bitch to no one here just shot a cop who thought he'd help enforce the Foot's agenda." She shrugs. "Shitty time to be a crook or a hero in this city." She adjusts uncomfortably, recognizing that she pointedly didn't answer the other part of what Drake said. 

:'''{{#var:1353|Drake (1353)}} has posed:''' "Okay, I'll let Captain America and Iron Man know about this." Drake says with a loud sigh as he wrinkles his nose up more. "That is if it hasn't hit their radar yet. Right now everyone seems to be focused on this Sentinel issue and the citizens they are targetting." He squints his eyes at Gunter, then sighs as he looks back to June. "He shot a cop." He says dourly. "Great." He rubs a hand along his face. "Do you need me to get him out of the city then or something?" As Snowball circles around overhead, her eyes give a few flickers as she scans the buildings, alleys and roof tops. Since being targetted by The Foot, he's had to ensure her protocols have been upgraded to 'defense' and 'recon'. He taps the small device in his ear that communicates with his robotic sidekick. As his gaze settles back to June, he sighs again as he watches her shift about. "We're gonna talk." He says rather firmly. 

:'''{{#var:1787|June (1787)}} has posed:'''     June huffs, "Not what you think," she defends. "And if you help, you could get tagged as part of the gig, Just gotta get him upstate where nobody gives a damn about any of this. If he's out of the picture, the Shredder won't chase him." She looks back at Gunter. "Though the cops will still hunt you down." She shakes her head. "Dipshit."     "He drew down on me," Gunter defends. "What, you think I'm gonna let him just blow me away?" Which might be a fair defense. 

:'''{{#var:1353|Drake (1353)}} has posed:''' "So, you don't want my help is what you're saying? That's a song you seem to always have on repeat with me. Except this time I'm finaly gonna skip the track. Good luck, I guess." Drake says as he gives a snap of his fingers to Snowball who gives a 'doot-da-doo!' noise and floats back down towards him, giving him a playful circle. "I didn't change my number, feel free to use it if you want." He says as he starts back across the street for the alleys as Snowball follows after him, lighting the path with her high-beam eyes. "Though I'm sure you won't, as usual." He grunts out. 

:'''{{#var:1787|June (1787)}} has posed:'''     "Yeah, Drake, I'm sayin' I don't want you getting your shit wrecked if you get seen helping someone who just shot a cop." She announces a little too loudly for comfort given the circumstances. "See, that passive aggressive bullshit still doesn't work on me," she comments as he starts to walk away.     Gunter looks between June and Drake, a little baffled, and waves his free hand at both of them. "Okay, I ain't gonna play referee here, but we realize that cops will be on the site in like, seconds, right? So if we could leave the soap opera for later, that'd be great." 

:'''{{#var:1353|Drake (1353)}} has posed:''' "Yup, good talk." Drake says as he hops upwards to grab the bottom of a fire escape, tugging it down, then starts up it rung by rung. "Your new boyfriend is a total upgrade by the way! Congratulations!" Snowball gives a withering chirping 'sigh' as she follows him up towards the roof. 
}}

9142/City Fall: The Boss is Back

2019-09-10T18:47:47Z

GodsKnite: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2019/09/10 |Location=Empire Casino - Yonkers - New York City |Synopsis=Shredder and Doc Ock talk about possible teamwork. It wasn't a very long tal..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2019/09/10
|Location=Empire Casino - Yonkers - New York City
|Synopsis=Shredder and Doc Ock talk about possible teamwork. It wasn't a very long talk.
|Cast of Characters=8908,1233
|Tinyplot=City Fall
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:8908|Doctor Octopus (8908)}} has posed:''' It's been a while since the Octoboys had met with the Foot clan. Their second in command, a black haired man named Michael Sarzinski, has been keeping the Octoboys under the radar. Cooperating with Shredder was the prudent course of action while Doctor Octopus was handling other matters, and they had kept to their arrangement. They were a small gang, but they for some reason never had any serious contenders for their turf. There are rumors that their boss -the reclusive Doctor Octopus- was the one in charge, and that if someone attacked their turf, he would come out to defend. Anyone who has tried up until this point usually didn't live to tell the tale, with one lucky survivor from a year ago telling of 'long arms coming out of the darkness for his friends' when they tried. Needless to say, with Doctor Octopus and his reputation, combined with the few blocks they claim for themselves, no one has really been interested in trying their luck again. Now though, 'the boss is back', Michael told Shredder over the phone 'and he wants to have a chat'. The top of the Empire Casino rooftop has a half-dozen well known Octoboys with pistols and one or two sub-machineguns for the meeting. Wearing their gang colors (green and yellow) and an Octopus on the front of their green shirts, it was clear that Doctor Octopus brought backup. The man himself? He's nowhere to be seen, until right on the second of when the meeting is about to take place. Over the side of the Casino comes a steel colored mechanical tentacle. Then another. It visibly pulls something up, and a man wearing a brown jumpsuit and overcoat comes from below. Two more tentacles can be seen trailing behind as stabilizers as the man comes onto the roof, and starts to 'walk' over on those tentacles over to the Octoboys, Otto himself just 'hanging' there from the harness. 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     Shredder's response was neutral when Michael told him that he was requested for a 'chat'. He agreed, and normally would have sent Karai for a smaller gang such as this, or maybe even Jennika or a Sifu. His sifting through the good doctor's exploits, however, told him that it could be a misplay. Unnecessary interruptions were not optimal. He would handle this himself. Someone wearing bladed armor crouches atop the second tier of the roof, over the terrace they were intended to meet upon. The metallic ring of a coin can be heard.     It flits through the air, the gold trinket landing on the ground in front of Otto, bouncing, rolling, and then coming to a rest.     The figure above meets the description, though only barely visible, the Shredder is known for his rather trademark bladed armor. The coin might be familiar as well. Michael was given one that was similar. But that one was Michael's.     "Dr. Octavius," the voice calls out. "Welcome back to New York City. I trust your ventures out of state have gone well." 

:'''{{#var:8908|Doctor Octopus (8908)}} has posed:''' Doctor Octopus walks over to the Octoboys, and 'settles' down onto the roof among them, before he walks on his own legs casually over to Shredder himself. He stops a few dozen feet away, and Shredder can see himself reflected in the safety glasses wrapped around Otto's head, at this distance. "It went well for me. Not so much for others." Otto informs Shredder with an air of casual amusement. "I hear you've been busy with New York the last few months." The tentacles behind Otto remain in neutral position until that point, where one darts up into the air and does a 360 around the rooftop, pincers open. Otto tilts his head just so as he mentally examines the feed from the camera inside the tentacle, his own eyes remaining on Shredder, "You represent the Foot clan?" Otto asks. A second tentacle, without looking away, suddenly /pounces/ on the coin, the pincers gently grabbing it and bringing it over directly in front of Otto's eyes. He takes a moment to examine the coin closely as the tentacle holds it up for him. 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     "I am the Foot Clan." The answer is simple, the figure continuing not to move from his perch. "New York, among many others. Now that the control is secure, I can move forward with more primary concerns. You have returned at a time that allows you to enjoy the benefits of success, and you owe it to Mr. Sarzinski. I hope you pay him well. That coin is yours, provided you continue the wise decision making that your second has shown." 

:'''{{#var:8908|Doctor Octopus (8908)}} has posed:''' The coin is taken and pocketed in his coat, then, he turns his attention to Shredder himself. "Before, the Octoboys stood no chance against your people. The second I was told about the Foot clan, I knew I'd have to be here to be able to do anything." Otto brings up all four tentacles then to his sides, their heads aimed right for Shredder. "I have no interest in continuing our arrangement at this point. I've already ordered the rest of the Octoboys into hiding. Keep out of our territory, and in a week or two I'd be willing to talk mutually beneficial terms. Consider the arrangement with my second null after this meeting. You're dealing with Doctor Octopus now." 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     The answer does not come in a delay. The figure continues not to move. "You misunderstood this to be an optional arrangement, doctor." Shredder's voice is cold. "Every underworld organization in this city either will join me and reap the rewards of that arrangement, free reign in the city, or they will be eliminated as propaganda for the masses. You surely saw the example made the other day in midtown. They thought they could stand against me. In their hubris they defied me and distributed and fought over a whimsical drug. Now they are destroyed, and their families are decimated. You do not want to cross me." 

:'''{{#var:8908|Doctor Octopus (8908)}} has posed:''' "I saw it. It's the reason why I'm cutting ties." Otto explains with a sneer, the pincers on his tentacles snapping in anger. "I was patient. I waited to see what you were trying to do, but all you want to do is conquer the east coast underworld, from all evidence... and I am nothing if not a scientist." He turns his back, revealing the root of all four tentacles at his back as he begins to walk over to the rooftop access door. "Don't call us, we'll call you." 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     Shredder continues to sit still, and the order is given. "Kill him." In his mind, he doesn't need to wait and chase down the doctor later. From the second tier of the roof, a large creature leaps out of the shadows. Significantly taller than a human, and far broader, a muscled mutant that looks to have once been a hammerhead shark lands solidly on the terrace, bearing his many rows of teeth. He charges forward, heading for Doctor Octopus post haste.     Meanwhile, from above, Koya takes her cue, and twists in the air, dropping out of it as she begins her dive from above. 

:'''{{#var:8908|Doctor Octopus (8908)}} has posed:''' "Deal with the flyer. I'll handle the large imbecile." Doctor Octopus orders, two tentacles coming up and bracing against the roof, another pouncing out and grabbing Bludgeon by a foot as he charges into Doctor Octopus. The momentum is carried as he tosses the large shark bodily right over the rooftop. Meanwhile, pistols and sub-machineguns are starting to fire into the air as the Octoboys try to wing Koya as they all run for the exit. 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     Bludgeon is caught, and clambers to hold on the tentacle as he's tossed, but without enough things to hold to, he slides off the grip, and down to the parking lot below. He lands on someone's Lexus, smashing it and setting off the car alarm.     Koya rolls to the side as the bullets start flying, her incredible speed a significant advantage. She tucks in low, talons extending as she tries to snatch the doctor directly in his harness.     Meanwhile, the figure of Shredder continues not to move, but from behind him, two shurikens are flung from the rooftop, whistling toward the octoboys. Shurikens are rarely lethal, but they hurt a great deal when finding targets, and these are thrown for the hands of the gang members to stop their firing. 

:'''{{#var:8908|Doctor Octopus (8908)}} has posed:''' He was waiting for that... and when the attack finally comes, that spare tentacle whips out to deflect the shurikens with a loud metallic clang. This leaves him open to Koya though, and when the bird lady drops down and grabs Otto whole from the rooftop, there's a loud "Urghhhhhhh!" in exertion as all four tentacles go with him. Up into the air Doctor Octopus goes, for the moment in a midair fight with Koya as he gets his bearings, starting to work out a viable strategy to get himself out of her grip. The Octoboys, meanwhile, are starting to pile through the rooftop access, down into the Casino back hallways. 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     "Hello, prey," comes the whispering taunt from Koya. Teeth bear from inside her beak, a truly unnatural creature, and she suddenly releases the doctor, dropping him off the side of the building to join Bludgeon.     Meanwhile, from behind the figure of Shredder, a dark clad man emerges. He leaps from the second tier, landing silently, quickly pursuing the falling action, and drawing a katana. As with the rest, he quietly vaults, far quieter than the rest of the action as he descends to the parking lot below, leaving the Octoboys to their retreat. 

:'''{{#var:8908|Doctor Octopus (8908)}} has posed:''' Dropped from the air. How droll. It takes a couple seconds to calculate the situation. Would it be more efficient to grab the Casino wall, or use the lamplights and cars to break the fall? The answer becomes obvious as he falls just past the lights. A tentacle shoots out and grabs at the wall, extending nearly twenty feet itself as the pincers grab the scaffolding behind the lights of the sign, while the other three tentacles arrange themselves as speed breaks to soften the 'landing' Doctor Octopus has against it. Within moments, Doctor Octopus is attached securely to the side of the Casino in plain public view by all four tentacles... before he starts to 'walk' his way back up to the rooftop. 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     As Doc Ock starts to ascend once again, the dropping ninja meets him, a foot first descent, blade turned with a poise ready to permanently end the fight. Koya swoops away, making a circle as Bludgeon gets out of the wreckage of the car. "Koya!" he calls out. "Take his legs!" Bludgeon rushes forward, much to the shock and terror of those at the Casino, and he looks for a way to re-engage the fight. He can't fly, though, so it makes the operation a little more challenging. 

:'''{{#var:8908|Doctor Octopus (8908)}} has posed:''' Doctor Octopus can't fly either... but he can leap pretty well on his tentacles, and leap he does, away from the side of the building before he once again extends two tentacles to his right, latching onto the side and pulling himself twenty four feet across the side of the building. His safety glassed eyes look to those below for just a moment, before he starts to 'walk' up to the rooftop again. If he's going to engage in aerial combat, he needs to have his tentacles available for grabs. 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     The dark clad figure lands and rolls as he hits the ground, remarkably able to handle the fall and come back to his feet. Koya swoops in as he ascends again, looking to pluck him off the wall once more and bring him down to where her allies are. 

:'''{{#var:8908|Doctor Octopus (8908)}} has posed:''' There's no subtlety to Koya as she swoops in, so keeping track of her as she comes in for another grab attempt isn't that hard. When it becomes clear that's what she's doing, two tentacles anchor Otto to the side of the building. Meanwhile, the two other tentacles are positioned in front of himself, ready and waiting to 'swat' Koya away. "Fool me once, and all that." Otto sneers at her, his teeth clenched in anger as he waits for her. 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     Koya's agile, but though she is able to dodge the first, the second catches her across the chin, sending her veering away from her intended attack.     The crowd is growing, and the black clad figure pulls a few pellets from his belt. He chunks them into the crowd. Though they are harmless, the smoke burns the eyes and can cause coughing. Needless to say, as they impact, it causes a stampede, and the people who were gawking in the onlooking are now running in terror. Needless to say, police are likely to follow soon. 

:'''{{#var:8908|Doctor Octopus (8908)}} has posed:''' When Koya veers away, the two tentacles anchoring Doctor Octopus to the side of the building begin to 'walk' their way back up the side of the building once more, the two other tentacles kept at the ready for Koya. Then, Otto does something Shredder may or may not be expecting... and he /leaps/ right off the side of the building, right at Shredder, two tentacles ready to grab the lamps to 'parachute', and the two other tentacles reaching out to grab a car, before tossing it directly at Shredder. 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     Whether expected or not, the reactions are fast. Bludgeon leaps forward, catching the impact of the car with both hands. The impact is still plenty to thrust him back, but he remains in control. As he slides backward toward the Shredder, the dark figure leaps up, using the shark as a springboard, leaping toward the doctor, slashing with his blade at the defiant criminal mastermind.     Koya lands, and looks over her shoulder as she sees the police lights across the interstate leaving the station. "Master," she announces. "We will have company momentarily." 

:'''{{#var:8908|Doctor Octopus (8908)}} has posed:''' "Yes. A lot of company." Otto grins, all four tentacles coming up into an attack pattern as Shredder slashes down at him. If one tentacle doesn't grab a limb, three others try to grab him to fling him right back at Bludgeon... or at least block his leap. "I can keep doing this for hours, 'master'. Can you say the same?" Otto taunts as he stands there in a combat stance. "And I have plenty of ammo to do it with." Otto gestures with his actual hands to the cars around them. 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     The dark ninja's blade is caught by the first tentacle arm, and he reaches out to spin around it, losing the sword but keeping himself free as he launches over the attacking mechanical appendages. It means that arriving, he has no drawn weapon to attack with as he sails past, unresponsive to the taunts. His eyes aren't on Otto, though, they are on the apparatus that he wears, taking quick inventory as he passes, landing on the other side. He tilts his head, and then calls Koya, "We leave. Dr. Octavius, you have taken your success and turned it to failure this day." He does not have the tools on hand to neutralize the arms, meaning that the fight may take longer than he has before the police arrive. He slings his wrist forward, throwing a flash pellet toward Dr. Octavius, an attempt to blind him temporarily. 

:'''{{#var:8908|Doctor Octopus (8908)}} has posed:''' The harness itself is actually concealed underneath the overcoat he wears. An intentional obscuring of his main asset? Shredder will have to remove the coat in order to see the actual harness itself, to devise a potential means of dealing with it. Nonetheless, Otto keeps in his defensive stance even as Shredder tosses the flash pellet at him. The pellet itself is caught by a tentacle, but the flash is more than enough to do it's job from that distance, and both actual hands come up instinctively to shield his eyes, even though the safety glasses do blunt some of the pellets effect. 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     The temporary distraction is used. While he was unable to see the connection directly, he was able to experience the reaction time, and that would have to be something. Shredder is caught up by Koya, who takes him to the roof to attain the dummy armor. He grabs it by the back of the collar, while Bludgeon makes a dash out of the casino grounds, heading back into the streets. By the time the effects are gone, the police are crossing the bridge that spans the freeway, on their way to the casino. 

:'''{{#var:8908|Doctor Octopus (8908)}} has posed:''' "A control freak. This is going be a very curious fight." Otto mutters to himself. Then, he's up on all four tentacles and 'dashing' for the nearest collection of buildings at 50mph. Soon, Doctor Octopus disappears into the hustle of Manhatten. 
}}

9096/City Fall: Cleaning House

2019-09-06T20:24:47Z

GodsKnite: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2019/09/06 |Location=9096 Midtown - Manhattan |Synopsis=Bodies rain in Manhattan as the Foot sends a message to the city. |Cast of Characters=1233,..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2019/09/06
|Location=9096 Midtown - Manhattan
|Synopsis=Bodies rain in Manhattan as the Foot sends a message to the city.
|Cast of Characters=1233,99,8808,89,1092
|Tinyplot=City Fall
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     It's the middle of the day, another bustling day in Manhattan. Traffic is bumper to bumper, and the sidewalks are full. Over the streets the LED bill boards run their ads for various products. Video Games, Shoes, Makeup, and Clothes. There's nothing unusual about it at all. A taxi honks at a man who forces right of way on a bike. A street vendor is trying to impress the importance of his souveniour Empire State buildings. 

:'''{{#var:99|Mercy Thompson (99)}} has posed:''' Mercy's out here, shop's slow. She's on lunch break and decided to come to Manhattan. She's got her coveralls on, work boots and hair's tied back...and she's fuming. Spending the last five hours fighting with rusted up German cars can do that...so she needs lunch to figure things out. And that means leaving Harlem, coming to Manhattan. She's just walking down the sidewalk and musing to herself, while keeping her head up and wary of problems. 

:'''{{#var:8808|Ivory Valentine (8808)}} has posed:''' Having closed the popup store on the last monday left Ivory to roam the city once more, a sketchbuck tucked under their arm to look for something that might inspire them for a new shirt or something. Just another face in the crowd safe for the fact they were dressed carefully to not show signs of their gender, whatever they might have chosen for the day. It might not fool people with superhuman senses but for the general populance? The White Persian Cat designer was androgynous. 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     It's such a common day, that the sudden shock to the environment seems to be only partly processed by those who go about their day. One of the screen advertisements changes. It's a black background with a red footprint on it. Another changes. Then another. Most people don't seem to notice as the text scrolls across the screen, white. New York City hates crime, but the traditional method of containing that violence has failed. We will stop it. Consider this a gift. The message simply stays on the screen, far longer than most advertisements. A couple of people glance from their food, or look up at the state of the screen billboard not moving. 

:'''{{#var:99|Mercy Thompson (99)}} has posed:''' Mercy looks up and is a little puzzled. She stops and ducks out of the way of a cyclist that /has/ to get somewhere. She's no desire after all to end up as roadkill...which being a coyote shapeshifter would be ironic. Still she watches, and...and...she sighs. Mercy's not sure if this is a prank, or...what it is, but she's thinking whoever did this has to be a nerd. Yes, that's her exact thought. Computer people do impressive things, "So...is this some sort of prank?" Mercy asks aloud, she's used to the weird goings on in NYC, but...but...she's just frankly puzzled. 

:'''{{#var:8808|Ivory Valentine (8808)}} has posed:''' Ivory Valentine looks up as someone mentions prank nearby, looking for what she might mean. "Huh?" they ask, looking for the source or what they comment on, then up to the screen, givign it a couple moments. "Strange..." they mutter, pulling that sketchbook up to make a quick note on the paper with the graphite tucked into its rings. 

:'''{{#var:89|Matt Murdock (89)}} has posed:''' Matt Murdock is on the way back from visiting a client when he feels the mood shift in mid-town, waves of confusion coming off the crowd as their heads tilt upwards to look at the screens. Screens Matt can't read. He nudges a guy, "Hey, is something going on?" he asks The guy turns, "What's the matter buddy are you bli-" he begins but seeing Matt's cane and shades he changes his tune. "Oh, sorry mac, there's this big red foot and then something saying, New York hates crime, the regular ways don't work so we're going to stop it, consider it a gift. Weird right? This some new movie or something?" "Don't get out to movies much," Matt offers with a wry grin. "Thanks," he says putting a hand on the man's shoulder. Parting company with him Matt slips away to pull out his phone using voice commands to dial Foggy. "Hey, Foggy, something's going down in Midtown, can you bring me my duffle bag..." The office wasn't far, so if things went down Matt was counting on being able to suit up and deal with it. But man he really needed to get on getting a suit that fits under his clothes. 

:'''{{#var:1092|Natasha Cranston (1092)}} has posed:'''     Cranston Multinational Shipping's New York headquarters building isn't the tallest building around, but its CEO's office is well above the hubbub of the streets and the neon signs.     Just the way Natasha likes it, as she ponders the wording of a proposal as she writes... And then her cellphone buzzes, a line of near-incomprehensible chatspeak and a thumbnail of what looks like an adorable kitten.     Natasha frowns and swipes it away, then thumbs the fingerprint scanner to call up an app that very much isn't available on the download stores.         --- Billboards hijacked. Foot symbol. Ominous text. ---     She stands up, turns around and looks out the window to the streets below, where more and more people are stopping to look at the billboards. She scowls and turns again to key her secretary's intercom.     "Susan, hold all my calls. I'm taking an early day." She switches the intercom off on the outraged squeak of her secretary and heads for her private elevator, thumbing another message on her app, making sure Benny will be ready to pick her up by the time she reaches the street... 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     The sound above that is hard to hear for most, a yell-no, a panicked scream. Then the sudden deafening THUD of metal being impacted. A taxi comes to a halt, disabled, stopping the already thick traffic. The cause is quite clear. A human body has landed on the hood. After a moment, people start to turn, the Big Apple slow to pick up on things of this nature. Another body slams into a large flowerpot that decorates the street, sending pieces of the faux stone skittering.     A third body goes through the booth selling the replicas of the Empire state building, the impact decimating the small sales cart, and eliciting a scream from the older man. A few more bodies fly over the edges of various rooftops of the intersectings streets, short cries cut off by a sudden slapping impact on the ground. One of them even past the CEO's window as it falls several stories down toward a brutal end. 

:'''{{#var:99|Mercy Thompson (99)}} has posed:''' Mercy looks stunned for a moment. Okay, this just got worrying real, woryingly quick. Mercy's looking for somewhere to hide, and...yeah, hide like....now. She's worried, and worry makes her surivival instincts kick in. Looking over and a little up, Mercy doesn't stop to think on the bodies. Instead she's running for cover. Or at least, until the bodies quit falling out the sky. She's no desire to be 'that girl who got killed by a falling body' any time soon. Mercy finds a spot to hunker down in a shop doorway and just....takes it all in. SHe's worried and shaking, and not sure just what to make of it all. THe bodies hitting the ground are bad enough, but....she's definitely wanting to hide and not come out until things have calmed down. 

:'''{{#var:89|Matt Murdock (89)}} has posed:''' Matt's firing off a text to Elektra, after all she has her own axes to grind with the Foot, when the first bodies start to fall. He doesn't quite believe what he senses at first the screams, the rush of the falling bodys, their flailing arms transmitted to him through his radar sense... then thunk they hit cars, and his nostrils are flooded with the copper scent of blood and pungent stench of spilled viscera. "No!" he exclaims when he realizes what's happening. He may not have time for Foggy, he grabbing an I <3 NY t-shirt from one of the stands, he hurries into the alley calling, "Need to borrow this," as his senses sweep his surroundings trying to find the nearest person yet to be thrown off the rooftop. 

:'''{{#var:1092|Natasha Cranston (1092)}} has posed:'''     Instinct, training, enhanced awareness... But in the end, it's pure luck that has Natasha glancing up just in time to dodge away as another body comes plummeting down. Even more luckily, everyone around her is too shocked to realize that her own reaction of screaming fright and hurrying away from the sidewalk is a second too slow to be instinctive. Luckily, Benny's already pulling up and opening his passenger door.     "Man, what a mess," he mutters, looking up at the sky as often as he looks at the streets to avoid traffic and falling bodies. "I guess those Foot boys are meaning business."     "Apparently," Natasha growls, for once not the calm and unruffled CEO. She focuses on her phone, contacting Oracle and DarkSky via the app, alerting them to the situation and advising them to get a priority line to every cape capable of high altitude rescues in the vicinity, then reaching into her briefcase for her coat and hat.     "The one thing I'm certain of is that the Shredder will have more to say once he runs out of bodies to throw..." 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     Many of the people to be thrown have been thrown, but a few are above still, one in particular fighting fiercely for his or her life on a roof nearby. Another falls into a tree near Ivory, snapping branches as he lands on the concrete. He might have just survived due to the tree. His head is shaved, wearing street clothes, and a tattoo of a schwastika is by his left eye. Very possibly not a very nice person.     With all of the commotion, there is one Japanese man in Greeley Square, sitting at one of the picnic tables, who quietly watches, sipping some hot tea in a gray business suit. He watches, one leg crossed over his lap. 

:'''{{#var:8808|Ivory Valentine (8808)}} has posed:''' Ivory Valentine is utterly confused for the first moment people flew down the buildings, taking cover together with the rest of the New Yorkers, clutching their scrapbook under the arm and holding the arm they had recently hurt. Seeking shelter with a couple other under an outcroppign of a building, they shivered, wincing from the pain induced by another pressing themselves into the same cover and against the bandaged scratched arm. 

:'''{{#var:99|Mercy Thompson (99)}} has posed:''' Mercy's hiding though watching bodies hit the pavement is....reminding her she could be worse off. Carefully she peeks her head out and then ventures out, retreating when more bodies fall. Mercy makes sure she's not within eyesight of anyone, then just....steps into being a coyote. She's a person one moment. A coyote in a pile of clothes the next, she looks frankly silly with her head and ears poking out of her coveralls, and she's scrabbling to get herself free....but she's also watching the rest of the people in the little area where she is, too. Mercy's still worried, but being a coyote and able to run at 60 is going to help, right? 

:'''{{#var:89|Matt Murdock (89)}} has posed:''' Rushing up the fire escape to the top of that roof, Matt leaps to the roof top wearing the shirt around his hair and eyes. Sensing the would-be victim in a fight for their life Matt rushes foreward to engage their attackers and keep them from throwing them off the roof! 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     The rain of bodies seems to have slowed to a stop, minus the one still fighting on the roof where Matt has arrived. Steel gray uniforms cover the attackers, two of them, as they brawl with a very bloodied man. He's tired, and large, a hispanic gang leader known from Hell's Kitchen. He's been to jail more than once, but due to the nature of things, he often gets back out. Santo Fernandez. He has his belt hanging from one hand, using it as a whip as one of the ninjas come in for a pass, and he causes the attacker to recoil to avoid the strike. "Come on amigo! No puedes manejarme!"     Below, Mercy's transformation is noticed, but seems to be the lesser of oddities as people look around for more falling bodies. As Ivory rushes for cover, the skinhead below the tree reaches out helplessly. His head is bleeding, and he is slow to move, seeming unable to get up from the impact. "Ugh, help, oh man that hurts so bad..."     The message on the board is replaced, new white text passing across the screens. -These people have hurt the city long enough. There are more. They will be removed and you will be safe.-     Meanwhile, still sitting, the man with the gray suit simply observing the reactions. 

:'''{{#var:99|Mercy Thompson (99)}} has posed:''' Mercy's ears flatten against her head at the sight of the screens. She's not a fan of this, really, she's a trouble magnet. Next time, she'll send her assistant out to get lunch and stay home. Although, Mercy's definitely not got hit by a falling body, but there's something to be said for being a four pawed four paw drive powered 'yote just trying to survive. Mercy's doing thhat and working her way to another hiding place. She's wanting to take stock if everything. No desire to go up onto roofs thank you. She'll keep her paws on terra....concrete firma and do what she can from down at ground level. WIth claws and teeth, that is. 

:'''{{#var:1092|Natasha Cranston (1092)}} has posed:'''     "... Oh, that ain't good..." Benny mutters, almost as much to himself as for the benefit of his passenger.     "Indeed," the Shadow replies. "He tamed the underworld by showing them the benefits of accepting his leadership. And now he uses the ones who refused him to claim to... 'protect'... the civilian people. Devious."     The Shadow ponders a moment, then nods. "Drive. Look for something or someone out of place. He would not put on a show like this and wait for second-hand reports of how it was received..." 

:'''{{#var:99|Mercy Thompson (99)}} has posed:''' Mercy scrambles up and over a taxi, if only to get away from the sidewalk, claws clciking on metal a s she runs. THat's gonna be a pain in the ass for some poor guy at the taxi firm to sort out, Mercy's not caring. FIght or flight. And since the fight's up there, and she's not a winged coyote (what would they even look like?), she's on four paws, running for another hiding place....in among the stopped taxis, up and over, and....finaly into a shop where she can watch the chaos from a doorway. Mercy's got no interest in helping people who got thrown from roofs, nope. SHe can't do a lot for them... 

:'''{{#var:89|Matt Murdock (89)}} has posed:''' Fernandez was a tough customer, Matt had fought the man as Daredevil a time or two, but Matt could tell by the gangster's laboured breathing and pounding heart he was almost out of fight. Matt lets out a short shrill whistle to get the attention of Fernandez's attackers, "Hey, you two want a partner who can really dance?" he doesn't wait for an answer moving across the rooftop swiftly, engaging the men with a kick for one and a punch for the other... ... at least that's plan if his blows land. 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     The two ninjas on the roof seem unprepared for someone to come to the gangster's defense. One of them looks over, spotting the incoming t-shirt-faced vigilante. The one who kept his focus on Matt took a kick to the face, sprawling to the ground. The second deflects the punch with a kama coming into hand in an attempt to stab him in the back, but a sudden belt wrapping around his neck pulls him back as Santo throws the ninja over his shoulder and facefirst onto the ground.     Naturally, as Mercy leaps between vehicles it draws some attention, but the dead bodies are starting to get crowds around them. Of course, in the Big Apple, some just want to keep walking. Police sirens are starting to be heard, and the lights of an officer who was already in the area come on as she opens the door of her car, trying to clear people back from a fallen body.     Interestingly enough, that officer is close to the one that is calling out to Ivory for help. She spots the man's outstretched hand, but instead of helping, she goes back into her car and pulls out crime scene tape, and begins to tape off the area around the dead body in front of her, rather than attend the live one begging for help.     The injured skinhead spots the coyote in the doorway, and reaches in the dog's direction. "Good doggie, get the police officer," he murmurs pleadingly, desperate for any help, even if he thinks it's simply an animal.     The Japanese man stands, taking the tea in the paper cup and finishing it off before casually walking to the trash receptical. He disposes of the cup, and without a word begins to walk across the crosswalk. The congested traffic makes it easy as cars are stopped in one lane, and rubbernecking is alive and well in the other. 

:'''{{#var:8808|Ivory Valentine (8808)}} has posed:''' Ivory Valentine looks all the more confused as the cop calls out them from the crowd taking shelter under the overhang to help, first pointing at herself before trying to push their way to the front of the crowd, glancing up all the time. It takes them time to get to the point of least protection of the sheltering overhang. Standing almost out in the open, they fidget, looking up with some fear in the eyes, then over to the cop grabbing the band, then the skinhead and the cop again. "I... I really have no idea what to do... I mean, I am no doctor or such. And I can't hault you or anything." Plus, as a genderqueer skins were something of a bane to them. 

:'''{{#var:99|Mercy Thompson (99)}} has posed:''' Mercy's more liable to end up in a dog pound if she does this. But still. Why help a skinhead? Or rather, one that got thrown from a tree. Mercy has a mental image of doing her Lassie routine, but for /that/ whoever was throwing bodies miss the well by about...Mercy reckons, five or six states over. She does though run past the officer then loops back toward the injured people. Sure, if she gets caught by animal control....she'll just....well....sign herself out on two legs and walk home. Oh the joys of being the daughter of a deity and a trouble magnet and unable to speak in four pawed form. Still, Mercy's loping along back toward Ivory and the others. Hopefully, the cop's spotted her and got curious. WOrst case? Animal Control's headed this way. In which case...Mercy may just chew through a catchpole...and run away. 

:'''{{#var:89|Matt Murdock (89)}} has posed:''' Matt feels the ninja's nose crunch under his boot and can taste the copper of blood in the air as he swings his punch at the second man. The punch is deflected and as Matt reels back to avoid the swing of the kama, the ninja is yanked away by Fernandez and thrown to the ground. Using his senses Matt sweeps both men to see if they're still awake, if so he hits them until they go unconcious. A look is given to Fernandez, "I hope I don't have to tell you and your people to get out of town, I won't be on every rooftop." 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     Santo gives a look at Matt, as if it is taking him a second. "Holy mother of Jesus, what are you doing here, come to mess up these matons?" he asks, odd maybe to hear him call someone else a bully. "Never thought I'd be seein' the devil on my side." He puts his hands on his knees. "You got a alot of cahones to be messin with the Foot, hombre. I shoulda had less I'm guessin'. I'm just too damn stubborn, Mama always said."     Down below the skinhead seems a bit less racist than he might normally. "Just...just stand so they can't see me," he begs Ivory. "If they know I lived, I won't make it." For as tough as he looks, his behavior shows him to be quite less tough than the image might portray.     As Mercy runs through and around the cop, she turns and sees the man lying near Ivory. She looks for a long moment, and back at the coyote. She looks up at the roof. She looks back at the coyote. Back at the man. "No one come closer to this," she says, and uncomfortably start to walk to Ivory and the injured skinhead. 

:'''{{#var:99|Mercy Thompson (99)}} has posed:''' Job done, Mercy carries on running. No sense in stopping now and having somebody take her photo...adorable as adorable as she is. Mercy just wags her tail and pads over to Ivory and the skinhead, before leaping deftly backwards and sitting, like a house pet, by Ivory. Mercy's willing to ignore that little voice in her head that screams trouble'. Instead, she's focused on what's going on down here...and 'down here' is injured people who lost a fight with gravity then suddenly found the sidewalk. Mercy shakes her head, shaking out her fur before lifting a paw to Ivory in a....sort of wave. It's very human like really. 

:'''{{#var:89|Matt Murdock (89)}} has posed:''' Matt actually grins at the stubborn remark. "Don't I know it," after all he'd kept clashing with Fernandez and the man never stayed gone. "But might want to put that stubborn streak aside foe awhile, The Foot are definitely going to try again, but not if you're not in the city. Get out for awhile, when they're dealt with, well..." his grin goes wry. "It'll be back to the same old routine." He lifts his head in an imitation of looking at the man. "We good?" he asks extending a hand. 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     "Yeah esse," Santo's meaty hand slaps a handshake into Matt's, "We good," he says. Hard to complain when someone saves your life, regardless of who they are.     The cop seems reluctant, looking down at the survivor of the fall. But everyone is watching, and she pulls her radio mic. "Dispatch, we have a survivor," she says. "Send an ambulance to 900 S Broadway." She turns to Ivory, "Thanks," she looks like she is going to say 'Miss', but she hesitates, as if uncertain what to say. "Police will take it from here." The injured man looks up at the cop, as if a little wary of her, and then back to Ivory. Clearly, though, he has little left to say in the matter.     The man in suit, the Japanese businessman known as Oroku Saki, watches. A slight smile curls to one side of his lip, ever so slightly, and he continues down the street. 
}}

9061/Shannon's First Kiss

2019-09-06T14:44:45Z

GodsKnite: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2019/09/03 |Location=Great Jones Day Spa, Greenwich Village |Synopsis=Mason takes Shannon out on a date! |Cast of Characters=1776,8765 |pretty=yes..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2019/09/03
|Location=Great Jones Day Spa, Greenwich Village
|Synopsis=Mason takes Shannon out on a date!
|Cast of Characters=1776,8765
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:1776|Mason (1776)}} has posed:'''     Mason was ready on time. He is two minutes late though, when he actually arrives at the meeting spot. He suggested to meet on the front steps before heading to the car. He has a Corvette, but then, he has the money to. Fire engine red.     He is in a silk steel colored shirt, along with a pair of white jeans and white sneakers. A dress belt around his waist, with a silver buckle, and a silver chain on his neck to match. 

:'''{{#var:8765|Shannon (8765)}} has posed:''' Shannon manages to smile, putting the horrors of the day before out of her mind as best she can. It would not do to let things drag her down. This was supposed to be a pleasant day, her first date. Ever. She's in a simple but hopefully tasteful and elegant wine-colored skater's dress, with a modest halter keyhole neckline, and knee-length A-line skirt, wine colored flat shoes, and her hair swept up on one side with a comb bedecked with faux freshwater pearls. She actually does smile when she sees Mason, though there's a hint of shadows in her eyes that will take a little time to chase away. "Wow. You look fantastic!" 

:'''{{#var:1776|Mason (1776)}} has posed:'''     Mason gives a lopsided grin, "Hey now, no fair, you stole my line," he says in return compliment. "Are you ready?" He had heard about the events in mutant town, but he doesn't comment on it. Instead, the attention is given to the events at hand. He escorts her to the car, and opens the door for her even. "How do you feel about fast driving?" He asks with a mischevious smile. 

:'''{{#var:8765|Shannon (8765)}} has posed:''' Shannon laughs. "Can't be any worse than fast flying! How fast are we talking here? Would I be able to keep up if I were following in the air?" Oh, my. Was that a possible challenge for another day? She slides into the passenger side, and makes doubly sure to fasten her seat belt, particularly keen on arriving at the party in one piece! "Oh... should I be turning on my image inducer for this? It's not going to cause problems if they see the wings, is it?" 

:'''{{#var:1776|Mason (1776)}} has posed:'''     "I hope not, it'd be a horrible blow to my ego," Mason answers playfully. "It's up to you whether you want to turn it on, but hey, if they weren't okay with mutants, I wouldn't want to be there. It peeves me off too much now to hear people and their crap." He hops into the driver's seat, and puts it in reverse to back out of the parking spot before fastening his seatbelt. It's a manual transmistion. He throws it into first, and the car lurches forward into acceleration. Second gear is hit within a few seconds as they head down Graymalkin Drive through the overhanging trees, far too fast for a leisurely senic drive. 

:'''{{#var:8765|Shannon (8765)}} has posed:''' Shannon yelps as the rapid acceleration catches her off-guard, already feeling the wind in her hair. "Just hope that they don't figure out where I go to school and make trouble here." It's impossible to keep worrying, though, with the roar of the engine shattering the late summer afternoon, and thrumming through their bones. "Bah, I'll just tell anyone who asks I was homeschooled. It's the truth." She can't help laughing even as the comb in her hair comes loose, falling to her lap. Getting to the party was going to be just as much fun as the event itself! 

:'''{{#var:1776|Mason (1776)}} has posed:'''     Mason downshifts to take a turn, blowing through the stop sign, and heads down the more major road. "Hey, do whatever," he says. "Usually people aren't talking about school much at these parties," he laughs. His own hair is flapping about his face as he goes, and he buzzes...oops, he just buzzed past a cop. 

:'''{{#var:8765|Shannon (8765)}} has posed:''' Shannon rolls her eyes and laughs. They'd be lucky if that cop didn't decide to follow them and pull them over... that'd be all the pair needed! She glances backwards to make sure they're not being followed, and cracks a smile. "You said something about fast driving...? Let's hope that cop's in a good mood, or we're going to need it!" 

:'''{{#var:1776|Mason (1776)}} has posed:'''     Mason winces, "Oh sh.." he glances in the mirror, and then behind him as the blue lights come alive. "Hold on!" he says with a grin, and slams on the brakes and turns down a neighborhood street. "Totally gotta avoid getting a ticket. My mom would kill me if I got another." 

:'''{{#var:8765|Shannon (8765)}} has posed:'''      Maybe this was the time for a colorful metaphor, but somehow, the winged teen refrains from using those hues from the palette of the English language. She laughs and holds on for dear life, hoping and praying they don't get caught. "Let's also avoid getting someone else hurt on the way!" 

:'''{{#var:1776|Mason (1776)}} has posed:'''     "Yeah, okay!" squeals around another turn, only barely avoiding going over the curb, then pulls into a long driveway. Whose house? Who knows? He didn't ask. He pulls in, and then tucks the vette around the back of the house. In their yard. They are out of sight, but it's likely the owners, if they are home, won't be big fans of the strategy. He grins. "Ever do this before?" he asks. 

:'''{{#var:8765|Shannon (8765)}} has posed:''' Shannon shakes her head and grins, covering her mouth to stifle her laughter. "No... looks like you have, though!" Her eyes have begun to twinkle with the sheer mischief of the entire scenario. She hadn't seen any vehicles in the drive coming in, but that didn't necessarily mean that nobody was home. Still, perhaps the odds were in the pair's favor? "This is nuts!" 

:'''{{#var:1776|Mason (1776)}} has posed:'''     Mason watches as the cop goes past, and the back door opens to the house.     "Hey, what are you doing?" an older lady asks, a little bewildered by the presence of the new vehicle.     "Sorry, wrong turn!" Mason calls out. He backs up, turning around. He gives a friendly wave as if it was an every day occurance, and then heads back down the drive, turning back the way they came. He keeps his speed down a little now, so not to draw additional attention. "Never, I'm a very upstanding citizen, you know," he declares an obviousl lie. "I never do anything to get myself in trouble. Especially not with a beautiful woman in the care." 

:'''{{#var:8765|Shannon (8765)}} has posed:''' Shannon ducks her head, turning rosy pink in the cheeks, and smiles. "Well, not -too- much trouble. Smoothie." Even with the drive kept down to a semi-civil speed, it's still fun. Yeah, okay, she'd gotten the idea with the incident in the rec room that maybe there was a little bit of trouble involved, but so far, so good. "I still say you're the better looking of the two of us." 

:'''{{#var:1776|Mason (1776)}} has posed:'''     "Nah I'm hideous, just ask twitter," he answers. Of course, any celebrity has people mocking their appearance somewhere on social media. "You like to go to parties often?" he asks. "I gotta warn you, I'm a crazy party animal." 

:'''{{#var:8765|Shannon (8765)}} has posed:''' Shannon shakes her head. "To be honest... parties are almost more intimidating than fighting a Sentinel. And I've never been on a date. Ever." She cants her head to one side and smiles, reaching over to hold his hand for a moment. "I'm willing to give it a try, though." 

:'''{{#var:1776|Mason (1776)}} has posed:'''     "Wait, never?" Mason asks. "Like, this is your first date?" He looks a little dumbfounded. "You can NOT convince me you've never been on a date. I would have guessed that you had guys beating each other up for you." He pulls out onto the highway, and hits the gas again. Easier to get away with it on the open freeway. As long as he doesn't hit any speed traps. 

:'''{{#var:8765|Shannon (8765)}} has posed:''' Shannon nods. "Never. My folks weren't too crazy about public schools, so I was homeschooled. Got along a whole lot better with adults than I did kids my own age when I -did- go out. And by the time I was old enough to even start considering the whole idea..." She shrugs, ruffling her wings a little. "...the change happened. So that sort of shut that down. Now you know why I was so surprised when you asked me?" Ah yes, the joys of the open road. As they hit the highway and pick up speed, she can't help laughing, rather enjoying the company and the trip, as much as the prospect of the party itself. "You, on the other hand, probably have girls going crazy over you all the time. So... it was kind of a pleasant surprise when you asked me." 

:'''{{#var:1776|Mason (1776)}} has posed:'''     "Well," Mason grins, and blushes slightly. "I can see how the /change/ happened," he comments. He doesn't glance to her wings, but... to another protruding section for a moment. Maybe a bit forward of him. "It's a little different though, I kinda got publicity. Most of them just want to chase me because of the status thing I think. Mob mentality. It's flattering, but...kinda empty." 

:'''{{#var:8765|Shannon (8765)}} has posed:''' Shannon looks right at him, not taking note of any other ahem, pressing matters at present. "Now that's something I just don't understand. We all come from the same place when we're born, we all go to the same place when we die. Dust to dust. We all put our pants on one leg at a time. So what's the deal with celebrity?" She smiles somewhat, looking ahead to the road, and sighing a little bit. "I had no bloody clue who was in the music room that day. It didn't matter. I heard someone with talent and heart. Didn't hit me till after just who that was." 

:'''{{#var:1776|Mason (1776)}} has posed:'''     Mason smiles, "I like that," he says, pulling off the exit to head into the city proper. "It's good just to be me." He laughs, "You know, I don't really even like the rock music as much as people think. I'd rather play classical stuff." He shrugs, "Doesn't pay so well, though." 

:'''{{#var:8765|Shannon (8765)}} has posed:''' Shannon raises her eyebrows. "You don't? You play it so well, though!" She smiles warmly, ruffling her wings a little bit as if puffing up like a peacock. "It shows where your heart is, though. I could've listened to you playing that piano all day." A laugh escapes her and she just shakes her head. "Wouldn't it just fry everyone's cookies if you ever said 'To hell with it, I'm going to play what makes me happy'?" 

:'''{{#var:1776|Mason (1776)}} has posed:'''     Mason laughs, "Well, I have gotten to do some more baroque style a few times, and some classical. People just don't hear about it as much. But yeah, manager says, 'play rock' so I can only do that stuff on the side. Gotta go where the big bucks tell ya, you know?" He pulls down into the parking garage, moving between the spaces to find a spot. His is hardly the nicest car there. A corvette seems to be small potatoes compared to a few in these spaces. 

:'''{{#var:8765|Shannon (8765)}} has posed:''' Shannon grins. "Yeah, I get it. Money talks, bull walks and all that jazz." Once they've parked, she takes a moment to look in the rearview mirror to re-do her hair, picking up the comb that fell in her lap and sweep the left side of those pale gold strands back up away from her face. She also gets a good look at the garage, and raises her eyebrows, letting out a low whistle. "Oh lord, hope I'm not underdressed for this thing!" 

:'''{{#var:1776|Mason (1776)}} has posed:'''     "No way," Mason laughs. "It's not black tie or anything, it's a REAL party," he tells her. He starts toward the elevator. "If everything goes right, we'll be overdressed. After all, it's a spa, they are gonna be having steam baths and stuff, so some people may be wearing a lot less." 

:'''{{#var:8765|Shannon (8765)}} has posed:''' Shannon follows Mason towards the elevator, giggling a little bit. "Last thing I went to was Peter's birthday, and before that it was the charity gala Josh was hosting. That... got a little awkward." Her cheeks brighten a shade or two and she coughs lightly. "Well... when in Rome..." 

:'''{{#var:1776|Mason (1776)}} has posed:'''     "Awkward?" Mason asks, bumping the button with his elbow as they board. It starts to take them up to the proper level. "I didn't get to go to that one, I forget why." 

:'''{{#var:8765|Shannon (8765)}} has posed:'''      Shannon giggles softly, keeping her wings drawn in. "Well... it sounded like one of Mera's guards was coughing up a storm so I went to make sure he wasn't choking. Turns out that afterwards, well, he had no idea what a handshake was, so I introduced myself and showed him. Umm... he didn't know you're supposed to let go afterwards, and there was no way I wanted to offend him or a blooming -queen-. So I was stuck there till she said something to her guard about it. Awkward!" 

:'''{{#var:1776|Mason (1776)}} has posed:'''     "Well, don't worry, I think we will be queen-free tonight. Freddy Mercury Rest in Peace." The door opens, and the spa is a little more active and noisy than it might normally be. People holding drinks of various types, laughing and talking. Is that an NBA player? Yep. And whatsherface from that soap opera. "But we got the booze," Mason gives a sidelong grin in her direction. Clearly, this isn't a party designed for minors. 

:'''{{#var:8765|Shannon (8765)}} has posed:''' Shannon groans softly. This was -not- good. "Don't suppose there's anything non-alcoholic in there?" Still, the company was good, and the setting was rather nice, even if the large social situation was a bit intimidating. She glances over at Mason and smiles, reaching over to squeeze his hand gently. Designed for minors or not, surely this wouldn't be so bad, would it? 

:'''{{#var:1776|Mason (1776)}} has posed:'''     Mason takes the squeeze of the hand as a little more eagerness than intimidation, and quickly pulls her forward into the fray. "I mean, I'm sure they do somewhere, but it's not like you wanna stay sober all night. Don't worry, I know how to get away with it." He leans in, "Been getting away with it under Emma and Jean's noses for the last two years, just don't think about it around them, they don't usually pry unless they got a reason." He pulls her toward the bar, as if she surely must want something alcoholic despite her claim. Of course, the non-alcoholic drinks are there as well. 

:'''{{#var:8765|Shannon (8765)}} has posed:''' Shannon shakes her head. "Yeah but thing is, I've got a pretty lousy poker face. Please, I'd rather just play it straight and do without the booze." She groans inwardly as she's pulled towards the bar. Well, perhaps there was a chance they'd make a mixed drink virgin if she asked? She chuckles softly, ducking her head a bit. "Besides... it'd be a lot nicer to remember this with a clear head. Why would I want to get boozed up and chance forgetting everything in the morning?" 

:'''{{#var:1776|Mason (1776)}} has posed:'''     "Well, then don't play poker," Mason teases. "You really are an angel, never drink, don't cuss, never been kissed, you probably shouldn't be out with me, I'm way bad for you." He glances at the barkeep. "Hey, can I get a screwdriver?" he asks, and looks back at her. "And one drink won't get you drunk, it just loosens you up a little. You can just do one, and if you don't want much more, or don't want to finish it, you don't have to." He shrugs. "Can even get something you won't taste the booze in." He flashes that smile that he's known for. "C'mon, it'll be fun." 

:'''{{#var:8765|Shannon (8765)}} has posed:''' Shannon just shakes her head and sighs softly. "An angel would have been able to save that kid yesterday. Besides, I'm not even sure how booze would affect some things. As for cussing..." She giggles softly and rolls her eyes. "I've been known to drop an f-bomb or two, but I've got to be pretty upset." She glances at the barkeep and smiles softly, ruffling her wings. "Strawberry daquiri, please, and make that virgin?" She keeps an eye on the whole thing to make darn sure she didn't see any booze slipped into her drink. Thank heavens for the advice she'd been given! 

:'''{{#var:1776|Mason (1776)}} has posed:'''     Mason knits his brow. "If angels could save everyone, nobody would ever die," he answers. "Since people die all the time, I'm guessing angels can't save everyone either." He takes his drink when both are put in front of them. "Not your fault." He takes a sip. "When I first got here, there was a shooting at one of my concerts. Thought I'd shake forever after that. Tryin' to do good, and somebody took the opportunity to do bad with it. I felt terrible, but had to realize that it wasn't because I did a concert that people got shot. It was because people who wanted to shoot showed up." He shrugs. "Nobody died because you wanted to help them. They died because of the sentinels." 

:'''{{#var:8765|Shannon (8765)}} has posed:''' Shannon nods and smiles somewhat, accepting her drink from the barkeep when it's offered. She kept an eye on the whole thing and sure enough, there was no booze in it. She raises her drink in a toast and takes a sip, uttering a soft little sigh of delight. "Okay, I'll admit... I've got a weakness for these. Just never had one with booze in it." She grins a bit sheepishly, and ducks her head. "Even angels have their weaknesses." 

:'''{{#var:1776|Mason (1776)}} has posed:'''     "Hey, nothing wrong with weaknesses. I have a few myself," he admits. "Behind my right ear is one." He gives a wink. He glances over the areas, there is a pool past the catered bar, set up since the spa doesn't have its own. There is a lounging pool with a few sitting around in it. One guy getting into the pool seems to have forgotten a swimsuit, so he's getting in wearing his boxers only, much to the laughs of the people around him. The steam room entrance shows that it is in use, plenty of fog covering the windows and making view inside rather impossible. A waterfall cascades down a less than 90 degree wall into a rectangular pool nearby, giving a certain classy modern ambiance. 

:'''{{#var:8765|Shannon (8765)}} has posed:''' Now Shannon's wings droop, and she pouts adorably. "If I'd have known there was going to be swimming, I'd have brought something to change into." As the two make their way around the room, she gets an impish little grin, dipping her fingers into the water and flicking a few drops at Mason, laughing. Though her cheeks do turn a little bit red as the man gets into the pool with only his boxers, she doesn't say anything against it. At least he was decent. She does, however, peek around Mason, reaching up to brush the hair aside from his right ear. "Looks normal to me." 

:'''{{#var:1776|Mason (1776)}} has posed:'''     "Well," Mason teases, "We can get in!" He winces at the flicking water with a laugh. As she runs her finger along that right ear, he tilts his head a little, a reaction definitely resulting. He grabs hold of her by the small of the back, pulling her toward him. "Careful," he says, "I told you it's a weakness. If you want to swim, I'll get in with you. Doesn't look like swimsuits are required." 

:'''{{#var:8765|Shannon (8765)}} has posed:''' Shannon turns as red as her dress, chuckling softly as she's pulled in for an embrace. She can't help threading her arms about him and hugging him gently, her wings unfurling and then wrapping briefly around the pair as well. "You have no idea how tempting that is." She chuckles a little bit, and shrugs. "Well... if he can get away with his boxers, who says I even have to take this dress off? It won't get ruined." She does slip her shoes off, though, nudging them over by the edge of the pool, eyes twinkling. 

:'''{{#var:1776|Mason (1776)}} has posed:'''     Mason laughs, "Now we're talking!" One of the other girls in the pool looks up as he shouts, holding her martini in hand. "Hey," she says, "I gotta ask, can you fly with those?" She's maybe in her early twenties, and seems genuinely curious. 

:'''{{#var:8765|Shannon (8765)}} has posed:''' Shannon slips into the pool, dress and all, with her virgin daquiri in hand. The fabric clings to her like a second skin as it's soaked through, but remains opaque, if a little darker in hue from the water. She smiles at the other girl and nods, turning her back a little bit more towards her and extending one wing towards her. "Yeah. Never really clocked my top speed, but I'd be guessing close to 55, maybe 65 miles an hour if I pushed it. But that's just a guess." She smiles, hearing Mason laugh; this was going to be one hell of a party. 

:'''{{#var:1776|Mason (1776)}} has posed:'''     Mason grins, and kicks off his shoes. After placing his drink on the pool's edge, he peels off the silk shirt, revealing his upper body. One of the girls gives out a cat call, and he points at her with a smile. He likewise strips to his boxers, and then jumps into the pool next to Shannon, seeming completely unembarrassed.     He grabs his drink and takes another sip while the girl nods to the explanation. A guy across the pool speaks up. "So can you fly if they are wet?" he asks. It seems her mutation is becoming the talk of the poolside. 

:'''{{#var:8765|Shannon (8765)}} has posed:''' Shannon shrugs in answer to the question. "Not sure, never tried. Not sure I'd want to try in an enclosed area like this anyways." Her face turns new shades of pink when she turns to see Mason in his improvised swimwear, a bit frank in her visual appraisal. "Angel, nothing. You sure you're not one yourself?" It was a sight to fair take a girl's breath away, and the winged girl was decidedly not immune. She sidles a little bit closer, smiling. 

:'''{{#var:1776|Mason (1776)}} has posed:'''     "Yeah?" Mason says with a sly smile. "You haven't seen all of it yet," this earns a chuckle from those close enough to hear.     "Well, we are in an enclosed space here!" The man who asked the question adds, with a few agreeing encouragements. It seems they want a demonstration. Wasn't he on a TV show somewhere? He doesn't look any older, another teen invited to the party. 

:'''{{#var:8765|Shannon (8765)}} has posed:''' Shannon shrugs and stands in the pool; her wings haven't been in the water all that long, so they're really not waterlogged quite yet. "Guess there's one way to find out." Droplets roll right off her feathers, the oils in them not quite destroyed by the pool just yet. She takes a look to either side of her to make sure she's not likely to hit anyone with her wings if she tries this, and winks at Mason. "Might want to back up a little." With a couple strong downstrokes of her wings--and some remaining bits of water flung from her feathers--she does indeed lift into the air, hovering for a few moments. "Guess that answers that question!" 

:'''{{#var:1776|Mason (1776)}} has posed:'''     Mason backs up as Shannon takes off, taking another sip of his drink as the wind from the wings blasts his hair back. There is a cheer from the group in general, as if she just did a cool party trick, and they raise their glasses in celebration. 

:'''{{#var:8765|Shannon (8765)}} has posed:''' Shannon is just as quick to let herself land, by now at least having gained enough control over her flight to at least land somewhat well. She snaps her wings out and bows with a little flourish, grinning a bit sheepishly. "It's nothing, really." She slips back into the water next to Mason, resting her head on his shoulder and mostly keeping her wings out of the water. Keeping her voice low, she murmurs to him, "You'd think I just saved a life or something, with all that cheering. It was just a little flying." She sighs a little bit, and smiles. "Maybe test it out sometime, see how much water these can take, before I can't fly." 

:'''{{#var:1776|Mason (1776)}} has posed:'''     "Do something else!" Another cheers, before Mason speaks up, putting an arm around her waist. "Hey now, she's not here as entertainment!" he defends. "You guys know what it's like, come on," There is a mutal nod, and backing down. He leans his head down toward Shannon, and whispers, "Well, for all the talent in the room, nobody else here can fly, so it /is/ pretty impressive." 

:'''{{#var:8765|Shannon (8765)}} has posed:''' Shannon sighs a little bit. "I -could- do something else... but it would be at someone else's expense, and that's just not worth it." She smiles, taking a dab of the whipped cream from her daquiri and plopping it on the end of Mason's nose, giggling softly. "No... impressive was hearing you play Rhapsody in Blue. That was just pure magic." 

:'''{{#var:1776|Mason (1776)}} has posed:'''     Mason looks down at the whipped cream, and grins before leaning in to whisper in her ear. "Well, whenever you're ready we could find other magic to make," he suggests. "I hear you're in need of a first kiss." 

:'''{{#var:8765|Shannon (8765)}} has posed:''' Shannon giggles softly, even the tips of her ears going pink now. It seems she'd been left in one constant blush since meeting Mason, and today was bound to be no exception. She tilts her face up just a little bit, playfully nipping at the end of his nose and making short work of the whipped cream. "Maaaaybe." 

:'''{{#var:1776|Mason (1776)}} has posed:'''     Mason gives a waggle of his eyebrows. He suddenly picks her up, fireman carry style, and places her on the pool edge. He follows it by hopping out of the water himself, and he boldly walks over to the towels to grab one and put it around his waist, then pick up another from the stack and bring it back to her. 

:'''{{#var:8765|Shannon (8765)}} has posed:''' Shannon yelps, squealing with laughter and initially putting up a little bit of a fight. It's not much of one, though, more in play than any serious struggle. Her eyes are twinkling as she's plopped down on the edge of the pool, and she reaches for the towel. "Thanks." It's put to good use, as she wraps it around herself and lets it soak up the water that is drenching her dress and the rest of her. "You know, I think this is maybe the first party I've been to that didn't scare the bejeebers out of me." 

:'''{{#var:1776|Mason (1776)}} has posed:'''     Mason grins, and picks up his clothes, moving to one of the locker rooms. "Well, I'm glad you're enjoying it," is his response. "I'll be right back," he says. Oddly, with how he is clearly not embarassed about himself, he chooses to move to the locker room to get redressed instead of just putting the clothes back on right there. 

:'''{{#var:8765|Shannon (8765)}} has posed:''' Shannon makes good use of the towel to mostly dry off so her dress is only a little bit damp instead of completely soaked through from the pool. At least the material wasn't the sort to get easily ruined by normal wear and tear--she'd made sure of that when she made the thing! She does spread her wings a little bit to let them dry out the rest of the way, moving them slightly to speed up the process... though hopefully without hitting anyone or anything! What could have upset Mason, she wondered, if he was so comfortable in his own skin that he got ready to go swimming right there in the open? Had she said something wrong? She shrugs and finishes her daquiri, finding a little spot out of the way and simply admiring the beauty of the place. This was somewhere she'd have to come back to when it was a little less crowded, she decided. Maybe spoil herself a little bit around the holidays? 

:'''{{#var:1776|Mason (1776)}} has posed:'''     "Mason returns after a couple of minutes, redressed and with the towel tightly wound into a ball. He finds the laundry hamper for used towels, and returns. "Hope nobody stole your attention while I was gone," he says with a grin. 

:'''{{#var:8765|Shannon (8765)}} has posed:''' Shannon chuckles softly and shakes her head. "Far from it. Once the whole flying thing was over, I just sort of blended in. Or tried to." She's long since finished her drink and left the glass behind at the bar, and smiles at him, threading her arms around him for a gentle hug. "Better be careful there, looking as dashing as you do... you could steal a lot of hearts." 

:'''{{#var:1776|Mason (1776)}} has posed:'''     Mason returns the hug, and starts toward the elevator. The Spa isn't in a remarkably tall building, but it is a good several stories. He hits the button to go to the top floor, which...is just a random office hallway with little to draw attention. "Hmm..." he says. "I'm sure there's gotta be a roof access around here somewhere..." 

:'''{{#var:8765|Shannon (8765)}} has posed:''' "If I were stronger, I'd just carry us up... but I'm not quite that good yet." Shannon giggles softly, trying to keep the noise down so the pair doesn't get caught. There was something wonderfully mischievous about all this sneaking about. Not her usual thing, but with the good company? Just once, it felt good to let loose a little bit! "What about this door here? Looks kind of promising." 

:'''{{#var:1776|Mason (1776)}} has posed:'''     Mason glances over at the door indicated. He tries it, it's locked. "Well, that's a promising sign," he says with a grin. He takes out his wallet, and grabs his driver's license. Jiggling it a few times, he pops the door open, revealing a set of stairs. "You're a natural at this," he says with a smile. He rushes up the steps, skipping two at a time, and finds the door at the top, opening it up to the roof. 

:'''{{#var:8765|Shannon (8765)}} has posed:'''      Shannon giggles softly, keeping her wings tucked in tightly as she tiptoes up the stairs behind Mason. It was probably better not to ask how he knew that little trick with the door! But the view from the roof was worth it, and when they're both up there, she smiles from ear to ear. "Speak for yourself there! But this view... incredible." It's enough to give her pause, to see the city spread out around them; anything ranging from older brownstones to newer construction, all cobbled together into one beautiful patchwork quilt of humanity. She smiles, reaching for Mason's hand and squeezing it gently. 

:'''{{#var:1776|Mason (1776)}} has posed:'''     Mason grins, "Not a bad place to get away from people, is it?" he asks. "I come up here all the time, just to watch the city, the people moving around. The lights of the city like reflections of the stars..." He then laughs, "Actually, never been up here." 

:'''{{#var:8765|Shannon (8765)}} has posed:''' Shannon laughs, and leans in for a light shoulder-bump. "Well... whether you have or haven't, I can't blame you. It really -is- beautiful up here." She smiles and rests her head on his shoulder, sighing contently and relishing the moment. When he talked about magic, he wasn't joking around! "This is really something special, Mason. Thank you so much." 

:'''{{#var:1776|Mason (1776)}} has posed:'''     "Thank you for coming with me. Mason turns so that they face each other, and gives...the look. He puts a hand around the small of her back, and slowly pulls her toward him for a gentle kiss. 

:'''{{#var:8765|Shannon (8765)}} has posed:'''      Time itself seemed to hold its breath as Shannon caught that look from Mason. Her cheeks go rather rosy, but she definitely does not pull away from him, instead welcoming the embrace. As she kisses him gently, almost tenderly, she brings her wings up around them, shielding the pair from prying eyes. Magic, indeed! 
}}

8609/Picking up the Harmony

2019-08-01T05:31:38Z

GodsKnite: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2019/08/01 |Location=Music Room - Xavier's Mansion |Synopsis=Shannon and Mason meet and play some music together in the X-mansion |Cast of Characte..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2019/08/01
|Location=Music Room - Xavier's Mansion
|Synopsis=Shannon and Mason meet and play some music together in the X-mansion
|Cast of Characters=1776,8765
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:1776|Mason (1776)}} has posed:'''     The second floor of Xavier's is alive. In the music room, someone is playing the piano. Normally, it's something pop and modern that students are known to play, but today? Today it's not. Today it's Gershwin's Rhapsody in Blue. Echoes sound off the wooden walls, giving them life in music from the hidden sight of the piano.     Inside the room, a blond-haired young man sits at the bench, the eighty-eight dancing with his fingers as he staccato's through the second movement of the piece. Barefoot, his toes are dirty, as if he had been walking the day without shoes. A saggy white collared shirt hangs off him, and a pair of baggy khaki shorts cover his upper legs. Blue eyes don't watch the keys, but unless a person already knows that physical detail, it won't be visible, because they are shut casually as he listens to the sounds of the great American composter. 

:'''{{#var:8765|Shannon (8765)}} has posed:'''      The music room is a sanctuary for those who seek refuge in the company of works of composers past and present, perhaps even adding their own in the course of their studies. Sometimes it was quiet, solitude allowing for uninterrupted study of the arts. Today was evidently not one of those days. A young woman with long, pale gold hair stops just inside the entryway to the music room, her arms full of books that look as if they've seen much use and love. Her wings, snowy-feathered and of considerable span like the paintings of angels from days of yore, wrap around her like a shield, leaving her to peer over the top edge with sparkling azure eyes. She's wearing a cream cotton poet's blouse with long sleeves, modestly laced at the front, a well-loved, well worn pair of blue jeans with ribbon embroidery near the cuffs, and a quirky pair of flip-flops with a daisy on the toes. Tilting her head, she watches and listens the as-yet unknown musician at their craft. "Wow... you're really good." 

:'''{{#var:1776|Mason (1776)}} has posed:'''     Mason continues through the piece, opening his eyes when he hears a voice other than his own. He lights up a smile, as if something that should be done when another person enters the room, though it seems genuine enoungh. He doesn't stop playing as he answers.     "Well, I must be," he says, "Now I know for sure, I've never summoned an angel before." Of course, he times it just as it enters the next softer movement. Somewhere between a shameless flirt and bold confidence, he doesn't seem to shrink from his own statement, both giving himself and her a compliment in one blow. 

:'''{{#var:8765|Shannon (8765)}} has posed:'''      Just as there is no hiding those wings, it's equally impossible for Shannon to hide that blush as it turns her cheeks a delicate shade of rose. Her voice has grown a little softer, as if loath to disturb him further. "Are you sure you weren't looking in a mir..." Then it hits her. No way. There was no way it could be... could it? Not only does she bear the color of roses in her face, but it's complimented by the color of the sky as her eyes widen with recognition. "Oh, my..." 

:'''{{#var:1776|Mason (1776)}} has posed:'''     "I'm Mason," he says, if he realizes that she recognizes him, he pretends that he doesn't. Of course, he's not known among many youth for more cultured music. He's known for rock'n'roll, sometimes pop when the label demands it. "What's your name?" he asks. "I don't think we've met, you must be new." 

:'''{{#var:8765|Shannon (8765)}} has posed:'''      Nodding, Shannon smiles, allowing her wings to relax slightly, lowering them away from her face. "Shannon. I just got here this week." She's not really known in many circles for much of anything, not yet anyways. She shifts the books to her left arm, and steps just a little bit closer, intrigued to see another musician playing. It was always fascinating to see someone else who loved music, and it was a great piece, too. "Wish I was even half as good as you. That's not a very easy piece to play." 

:'''{{#var:1776|Mason (1776)}} has posed:'''     "It gets easier over time," Mason comments. "I could play it in my sleep by now. Whenever I just want to unwind and not think about things, this is what I play." He lowers his playing, continuing during the conversation. "And I'm sure you could do it as well if you put your mind to it. Do you think I just woke up one day and could play like this? Do you play? I won't hog the piano if you wanted a turn." 

:'''{{#var:8765|Shannon (8765)}} has posed:'''      "No, it's okay, I can wait." Since Mason didn't seem to mind the company, Shannon finds an extra chair in the music room and pulls it over, settling down to listen to the maestro. "I know... it takes a lot of work. Some pieces, I still have trouble with." She closes her eyes as she listens, letting each note wash over her, and humming the melody softly in some spots where an alto might perhaps be able to. She's holding the books she was carrying in her lap; one rather thick volume seems to be a compendium of classical pieces, another holds works by Elton John, and one apparently well-loved book bears the title 'Moonlight Sonata'. 

:'''{{#var:1776|Mason (1776)}} has posed:'''     Mason brings up for the fanfare. "Do you know the finale?" he asks? "You could join me!" He scoots to the side of the bench, removing his left hand from the keys as only to play the right, holding the high point at the intro of the closing. He broadens his smile, as if the smile itself was a question regarding whether she would accept the offer. 

:'''{{#var:8765|Shannon (8765)}} has posed:'''      "Not as well as I should... but I can try." Sometimes that's all it takes, right, is to just try? Even when one is uncertain of exactly what they are doing, what can it hurt? Shannon slides onto the bench with Mason, drawing her wings in close to her body so as not to accidentally jostle him about while playing--or trying to play. Her fingers, when she plays those first few notes, do bear a curve to them that suggest she is no stranger to the instrument. They are, however, a little shorter than some, making some notes a little difficult for her to play, but she adapts. And adapt she does, somehow managing to not flub too many notes in the process of turning a solo piece into a duet. 

:'''{{#var:1776|Mason (1776)}} has posed:'''     Mason leads the way through the finale, taking it a little slower at first. His fingers dance nimbly across the right side, many of the finale notes mirroring for both hands. Of course some chords go farther to the left, and some to the right. On Mason's part it's effortless and casual, a simple good time. He doesn't seem to be fearful of wrong notes that might be played, and makes it all the way to the end happily, presuming that Shannon doesn't stop somewhere along the way. 

:'''{{#var:8765|Shannon (8765)}} has posed:'''      The smile that lights up Shannon's face as they both play is priceless, her eyes twinkling with every note. While it does take a little more effort on her part, by the time the pair reaches the end of the song, she's definitely more relaxed. So what if she fouled up? It was still fun, so who cared? "That was great! Thank you!" The simple joy of the music is mirrored in her eyes and her smile, as she glances over at Mason, the last notes fading into silence. 

:'''{{#var:1776|Mason (1776)}} has posed:'''     "Thank you," comes the return from Mason. "You seem plenty capable to me." He glances back at the books. "Elton John, good stuff," he says approvingly. "So what do you play the the most?" he asks. 

:'''{{#var:8765|Shannon (8765)}} has posed:'''      "Oh, a pretty wide range of stuff... musicals, movie soundtracks, classical. I love writing my own stuff, too, but it's really not all that great." Shannon's blush brightens by a shade or two, and she ducks her head. "Do you have a favorite piece of Elton John's? If I know it I'll play it, if you like." 

:'''{{#var:1776|Mason (1776)}} has posed:'''     Mason smiles. "Please! I play the entertainer more than my share, I'd love to hear something," he says, scooting off the bench and to his feet. He leans up against the side of the piano at the starboard side, "How about "Your Song"? Do you know that one?" 

:'''{{#var:8765|Shannon (8765)}} has posed:'''      Shannon smiles brightly and nods. "It's a beautiful song, and from what I heard has a beautiful story behind it." She doesn't even bother to reach for her book of Elton John songs as the opening notes seem to roll off her fingertips. "It's a little bit funny, this feeling inside / I'm not one of those who can easily hide..." She glances up at Mason and smiles brightly now, nodding in encouragement for him to join in if he wants. 

:'''{{#var:1776|Mason (1776)}} has posed:'''     "And she sings, too!" Mason says with excitement. He watches intently, not taking his eyes away. "You really might be an actual angel," he decides. "Came to visit the wrong guy, I'm no good at being a saint." 

:'''{{#var:8765|Shannon (8765)}} has posed:'''      If Mason were a painter, he would be able to discover new shades of pink in Shannon's face, the hue seeping even into the tips of her ears. She stops singing for a moment, though she continues to play the music. This is definitely a song she is comfortable with. "No, that name's already taken. I'm sometimes just called Nightingale." While her voice had gone soft and shy when speaking to him, it picks up overtones of confidence as she picks up the chorus of the song. "I hope you don't mind, I hope you don't mind that I put down in words / How wonderful life is when you're in the world..." 

:'''{{#var:1776|Mason (1776)}} has posed:'''     Mason continues to smile. "Well, you still earn it," he comments casually. He moves over to one of the chairs, and sits down , folding his hands in front of him as Shannon plays. "So how long have you been at it?" he asks. 

:'''{{#var:8765|Shannon (8765)}} has posed:'''      "Playing the piano? Maybe about three years. I started the summer before my... change. It was something to hold on to afterwards." While Shannon's voice and expression have turned somewhat thoughtful, perhaps even pensive, she still plays on, the last few notes of the song fading as she reaches the end. "I used to have dreams of maybe playing with the Boston Symphony, or even writing silly little songs that just kind of reach people where it counts, you know? But dreams change." She looks down at the piano keys, quiet for just a few moments longer before intense minor chords with a powerful, driving beat beneath them like some demonic heartbeat fill the room. "In sleep he sang to me, in dreams he came / That voice which calls to me and speaks my name..." 

:'''{{#var:1776|Mason (1776)}} has posed:'''     Mason seems a little sad with the story that Shannon shares. "Yeah," he says. "Isn't fair. Should be that if you have the gift, you have the gift and people let you use it. Shouldn't matter whether you're a mutant or not." Of course, he's never come out as a mutant, as far as the rest of the world knows, he's just a regular human. He listens as the Phantom begins. "Sing once again with me, our strange duet. My power over you, grows stronger yet...' 

:'''{{#var:8765|Shannon (8765)}} has posed:'''      "And though you turn from me to glance behind / the Phantom of the Opera is there inside your mind...." Oddly enough, Shannon's voice sounds far better as the Phantom, than it does as Christine. "No, it shouldn't matter. Maybe one day, it won't." Holy hell, Mason really -was- good. It felt good to just play for a little while, and as she hears him sing, her smile returns. Right where one would least expect it, on the next key change, she seems to improvise, slowing the tempo of the piece and modulating to a gentler, sweeter tune. "No more talk of darkness / Forget these wide-eyed fears / I'm here, nothing can harm you / My words will warm and calm you..." 

:'''{{#var:1776|Mason (1776)}} has posed:'''     Mason changes with her, unexpecting, but his years of performance have taught him how to adjust. He smiles at the unique take on the transition. "Let me be your Freedom, let daylight dry your tears." He seems happy just to be in the middle of making music. "You really could go places," he says, "Maybe if people get less...well, like people." 

:'''{{#var:8765|Shannon (8765)}} has posed:'''      "Maybe... I'll never give up on music. But there's another reason for 'Nightingale'. It's for healing." Shannon let's that sink in, while her fingers dance over the keys, and gentle music fills the room. For just a moment, she could dream again, as she listens to Mason singing. He really was quite good, and seemed to have a kind heart, besides. She scoots over on the bench to make room for him if he wanted. 

:'''{{#var:1776|Mason (1776)}} has posed:'''     Mason slides onto the bench next to Shannon. "Healing, huh?" he asks. "I guess we can all use a little of that," he says, "I don't think anybody at this school had this in mind when they were like, eight and stuff," he says. He's taking the healing to be on an emotional level, clearly. "I just keep playin', would be happy not to have any mutant powers," he says. "Just let me be me." He glances back at Shannon's wings. "Sorry, I'm a jerk. I don't have anything to complain about. I'm sorry." 

:'''{{#var:8765|Shannon (8765)}} has posed:'''      Now that does get Shannon to stop playing, her hands gone still on the keys. She just looks squarely at Mason for a moment, her brows furrowed. "See, that's the thing. You -are- you, with or without any mutant gifts." Leaning over, she wraps her arms around him in a gentle hug, and soon, her wings as well. "You're not a jerk. You're a really kind person, who also happens to be incredibly talented and ummm... well... talented." Way to keep her foot out of her mouth, at least for the moment! Oh, is she ever blushing! 

:'''{{#var:1776|Mason (1776)}} has posed:'''     "Thanks," Mason laughs at the slightly awkward statement. "You don't really know me, though. So I'm going to have to abuse that fact as long as I can get away with it," he says with a tease, returning the hug. "Really, gotta get going," he adds, standing up. "I have a class over at Julliard to go to, but it's been great to play with you some, Shannon, I hope we do it again soon." He reaches to take her hand, with a very old-fashioned style, he lifts it up to give a gentleman's kiss to the hand, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, and not a dated practice at all. 

:'''{{#var:8765|Shannon (8765)}} has posed:'''      "Surely you can't be all that bad?" Oh, sure, people in the limelight were rumored to have their fair share of quirks, but still... there isn't much time to think about that, though, rational thought processes temporarily shorted out by such an old-fashioned, courtly gesture. She can't help a smile, squeezing his hand gently. "So do I. I should get some flight practice in. Come find me, when you want to play again." 
}}

8602/Undercurrents: We Might Be Friends

2019-07-31T18:59:21Z

GodsKnite: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2019/07/31 |Location=Bushwick - NYC |Synopsis=A member of the Family in Bushwick talks with some X-men about working together. |Cast of Characters=..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2019/07/31
|Location=Bushwick - NYC
|Synopsis=A member of the Family in Bushwick talks with some X-men about working together.
|Cast of Characters=95,1798,169,1233
|Tinyplot=City Fall
|Tinyplot2=Undercurrents
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:95|Henry McCoy (95)}} has posed:''' Henry McCoy has become aware that people are now being attacked in Mutant Town expressly as a message to himself. After some quiet contemplation of things told to him by Cyclops, by Jubilee, and others, he decides to come to town. Asking those around for help, he drives Josh and Kurt into town with two aims: to approach those attacked for offers of medical and financial assistance to them as needed, and to post flyers offering rewards for information leading to the capture of members of the New Hope Project gang. Beast is in a suit, freshly cleaned and trying to look as immaculate as he can, as he strides slowly, with purpose, down a city street, leading Kurt and Josh to the next attack site. 

:'''{{#var:1798|Josh Foley (1798)}} has posed:''' Josh is watchful as they walk along, but in a decent mood. There are not many things he enjoys more than getting to use his abilities to help people, and this is a good cause. Perhaps a tiny bit of redemption, too. He is dressed casually, jeans, a golf shirt and loafers. He does not actually own a suit, so this is about as good as it gets. "I think people get it," Josh says and runs a hand through his hair. "I mean, New Hope have been dicks before. And you're like, Dr. McCoy." 

:'''{{#var:169|Kurt Wagner (169)}} has posed:'''     In the blacked out suit, kevlar and plates, Kurt follows behind. Tail hanging and only shifting as needed for balance. The news of the ganger killing himself, because of what Kurt did to him weighing heavily on the acrobat's mind. He lingers at the rear of the group, walking in his customary slouch, eyes on the ground. 

:'''{{#var:95|Henry McCoy (95)}} has posed:''' Henry McCoy nods to Josh. "Thank you. They know who I am, but I don't think the gang knows who I am yet. They task me. They task me and I shall have it. I shall chase them round the moons of Nibia and round the Antares Maelstrom and round perdition's flames before I give them up." He makes a fist briefly, before slowing his stride just enough to drop back with Kurt, who gets a hearty slap on the back. Fortunately Kurt's wearing Kevlar. "Don't beat yourself up. I know you're going to anyway, but it's not your fault he felt guilty about what he's done." 

:'''{{#var:1798|Josh Foley (1798)}} has posed:''' Josh gives Kurt a sympathetic look. He heard about what happened and felt for his fellow X-Man. "He was going to Hell way before he met you," Josh adds quietly. "Fact he checked in early? Not your fault, man." 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     Ever feel like you're being watched? Well, they are being watched. Just behind them, from a diner, the old bell rings as a large man opens the door. He's about 6'8" and built like a tank. Fittingly, he has a tank top on, and the spikes that protrude from his shoulders indicates that he probably tries to go with this type of shirt often. He has a close buzzed mohawk, and he winces a little as he calls out. "Hey, blue buddies," he says. He is carrying a sandwich in one hand that only has a few bites left in it. His knuckles likewise show spikes. It's clear that he's a mutant. 

:'''{{#var:169|Kurt Wagner (169)}} has posed:'''     "He killed himself, any life can be redeemed and be welcomed to the kingdom of heaven if they seek it. He can't. I drove him to it." brows knitting, Kurt looks to the others, face pinched. "How -" he pauses at the big man stepping out, turning and canting his head to the side, expression changing little. 

:'''{{#var:95|Henry McCoy (95)}} has posed:''' Henry McCoy will want to talk more with Kurt later. But for now, Hank gives Kurt's shoulder a squeeze, before he steps right up to the tank of a man addressing them. Fixing his jacket, he steps right up, and offers a hand. "Hank McCoy. Good to meet you buddy," the blue professor takes the lead to grin. "That gang been giving you any trouble? My friends Josh and Kurt are with me this morning to help out anyone they hurt." 

:'''{{#var:1798|Josh Foley (1798)}} has posed:''' Josh turns and and his eyebrows go up at the size of the man coming to talk to them. He takes his cue from Hank though and smiles. Even if he moves aside just a little so he and Hank are not in reach of a single charge. Josh stuffs his hands in his pockets and watches. 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     The large man smiles, a clear limb to his gait as he tries to quickly catch up to the trio. "You guys, you been lookin' for the New Hope Gang, right?" he asks. "Heard about ya, good on you guys, I've been wishin' I could run into you." He starts to extend a hand, wait, it's holding a sandwich. He passes the sandwich to his left, then brushes crumbs and any mustard off on his jeans before holding it out to shake. "Rocko," he introduces himself, glancing at Josh a second. "Oh man, you're that healer guy from the news, right?" he says with an approving grin. "Good stuff." He seems the friendly and bouncy type, perhaps contrary to his appearance as a big intimidating musclebound man with spikes on his shoulders. 

:'''{{#var:169|Kurt Wagner (169)}} has posed:'''     Flinching at the shoulder squeeze, Kurt's glaze flashes to Hank and then to the big man, head tipping to the side. Not sure what to expect yet, the bavarian keeps on edge, as if expecting things to go suddenly down hill and fast. Tail flicking he only bobs his head to the big man, trying to look friendly despite his actual feelings. 

:'''{{#var:95|Henry McCoy (95)}} has posed:''' Henry McCoy will shake hands with no problem, though he's going to be careful not to get any of the remaining crumbs on his jacket. Discreetly though. "Rocko. Yeah, that's why we're here today." Going into a jacket pocket he pulls out one of the flyers, and unfolds it. "I'm offering a reward too, for information leading to their capture." 

:'''{{#var:1798|Josh Foley (1798)}} has posed:''' Josh shakes hands with the huge man after Hank does. "Thanks, just glad to help anyone I can," Josh replies to Rocko with a grin. He takes a distinctly second position to his mentor though, letting Hank lead the conversation. 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     "Hey, I think that's fantastic," he says, "You aren't just waiting for the Family to deal with it, but you're going out there and becoming a part yourself. When this first started, we were able to handle the usual riff raff, the streets were a lot safer, but our allies that kept the Sentinels out, well, with all the stuff in the news, it's kinda called on a lot of their attention to keep us safe. I guess we gotta give'm a break, giant robots are definitely a priority over street thugs." He gives a chuckle, as if everyone should know what he's talking about. "But anyway, we could use guys like you. Who will stand up for the community. We are trying to get as many mutants on the same page, all organized so that we can stand against the oppression and bigotry." 

:'''{{#var:95|Henry McCoy (95)}} has posed:''' Henry McCoy nods to Rocko. "The Family, huh? Maybe we ought to have a chat, and coordinate our efforts. I'm hoping to resolve this as peacefully as possible. After all, we have to meet the standards we're trying to establish. Just let the people in this neighborhood live ordinary lives." 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     "My dad was a preacher," Rocko says. "He used to quote Romans 12:18 to me all the time. As far as it depends on you, live peacably with all people." He tilts his head. "But some people don't want peace. Some people just want to sate their fears." He points down the street. "Cultural Museum, that's where we're based in the neighborhood. I volounteer there on my days off. Dunno if you've been in it yet." The museum is new, a reclaimed building wedged along a brick line of structures. "Oroku Enterprises put it together when he did that job fair at the beginning of the year. You won't find any FoH or New Hope Gang members going near that. I'm all about peace where we can," he says. "Sometimes resolving things quietly is the next best thing, though, right?" 

:'''{{#var:169|Kurt Wagner (169)}} has posed:'''     "FoH? They're the other gang causing trouble... do you know where they typically gather?" Kurt pipes in, head tilting as he makes his inquiry. It would be a step towards clearing things up, Family or no. 

:'''{{#var:95|Henry McCoy (95)}} has posed:''' Henry McCoy listens intently to everything Rocko has to say. "We hadn't been that way this morning, no. But I do think it's a good idea for us to go that way. Thank you Rocko, and I hope to talk with you again soon." 

:'''{{#var:1798|Josh Foley (1798)}} has posed:''' "Totally," Josh says with a smile. "And you okay? You've got a real limp going. Can help you out if you want." 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     Rocko finishes his sandwich to free his hands, a bite a little larger than what might be considered appropriate. He chews for a second, giving a nod as if to indicate that he has a response for Kurt. After he swallows, he speaks. "Gather? Well, thanks to our friends, they have needed to be pretty discreet around here. Guess they get a little shy when their congregation disappears." Ominous, perhaps. "When we first started, they were the big obstacle, but in the neighborhood, there aren't any actually living here anymore, not that I'm aware of. Then again, if I was, they wouldn't be, so catch 22, right?"     He doesn't push the conversation when Hank makes the move to close it, but he does respond to Josh. "Oh? He smiles a little. "Yeah, just got shot a couple weeks ago, still buggin' me a bit." He arches his brow, "But it was worth it. Totally got an autograph from Alison Blaire. Some dickheads tried to kill her. Playin' the hero has its perks. Pretty nice lady." 

:'''{{#var:169|Kurt Wagner (169)}} has posed:'''     "So then it's only New Hope Gang then?" Kurt inquires, watching the man's limp, studying his stance and expression. "And this 'Family' is the group that did it... Doesn't that make it just another gang?" his woes forgotten for the moment, concern for the shift in the cycle growing as he approaches a step or two. 

:'''{{#var:95|Henry McCoy (95)}} has posed:''' Henry McCoy leads the group from Rocko, looking back for a friendly wave after Josh does his thing. Once out of earshot, he leans to Kurt. "The Family does sound like a local gang. I'm not going to sanction anything they do that's out of bounds, but we at least can get information from them. Let's ask?" And it won't be that long before they make their way to the Cultural Museum to start nosing around. 

:'''{{#var:1798|Josh Foley (1798)}} has posed:''' "You were the guy that jumped in to save Blaire? I heard about that! Dude, least I can do is help you out," Josh says with a grin and offers his hand to Rocko again. When he takes it, Josh's hand glows golden and Rocko can feel a sort of syrupy warmth spread through him and gather around his wound. First any soreness or pain disappears and then... It feels just fine. "Thanks for looking out for her. She means a lot to everyone, you know?" Josh says to Rocko after. 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     "Angry Angels were a gang," Rocko points out. "I mean, by that you'd have to call every neighorhood watch program a gang. We look out for each other, we communicate, and move problems that are above us up the ladder for attention by people who can do something we can't." He laughs, "Heck, you could say the Avengers and X-men are gangs, too. We may not be as well financed, but it's the same idea. I'm not out to see anybody get hurt that doesn't have to, we're just trying to stop people from getting bullied by the bad guys." He shrugs, unapologetic.     "Not gonna make anybody take part who doesn't feel it," he says. "So don't think I'm gonna be that guy that hounds you all the time, but you wanna get stuff done, you wanna find that gang? Puttin' our heads together can make it happen."     As Josh heals his wound, Rocko seems to recognize it immediately. "Oh snap," he feels his gut, and then raises his t-shirt to reveal the bandages that cover the wound. He presses on it a few times, then pulls off the bandage with an adhesive rip. No wound, just some rock hard abs underneath. "Look at that! Oh man, thanks! Yeah I just did what I could Was right there, had to act, y'know?" 

:'''{{#var:95|Henry McCoy (95)}} has posed:''' Henry McCoy watches as the two talk business. "You could say, Rocko, that we have our own, uh, family going. Based up in Westchester. Man named Chuck is in charge. Very powerful with his mind." Tapping his forehead. "But I'm here on his behalf since he can't always get out here easily. I'd like to arrange a meeting so our organizations can work together. Is that something you could help us with?" 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     "Oh yeah?" Rocko seems encouraged by the idea of there being another group like theirs. "Yeah, that'd probably be great!" He smiles a toothy grin, and tosses the old bandage into a public trash can as they pass it. "Oh, this could be really good. I just figured you moved here recently and I didn't know you. Up in Westchester, huh? Nice area." He opens the door for them at the center.     It isn't fancy. The building was once a small apartment structure above a store front. The first level has a desk which is currently unmanned, and a guest registry facing the door. A donation jar for admission, and past that, a series of displays that talk about the history of the X-gene, it's presence and the development of mutant culture, oppression, and other such factors. There's even a torn piece of an old X-man costume in a glass case, probably from some long forgotten battle. He leads to the second floor of the building, which has been opened from being an apartment, only leaving the necessary pillars to support the roof. In one corner is a small office, which he takes them in. It's not fancy, cheap but new office chairs.     "So, Family works like a network. Cell groups. So it's hard to squash it, think of Fight Club. Except we don't beat each other up for fun, and we aren't terrorists."     He grabs a binder with a simple series of explanations. "Unlike a cell group, we got some help. They aren't mutants, but they support mutant causes. I'm not EXACTLY sure about all that they have their hands in, but they are all over the Hook problem in NYC. They got their hands in a lot, but they help us, because they want a clean New York. Unlike the cops, they don't have a bunch of red tape."     "What we do, is we ward off people that mess with mutants, help get information and pass it on. We enforce it some, sure, but sometimes we got stuff above our paygrade, y'know? So we call our friends. With me so far?" Sounds like his standard introductory speech for a recruit. 

:'''{{#var:95|Henry McCoy (95)}} has posed:''' Henry McCoy does mess with his phone a bit, out of habit. A speech by Magneto in the press gets his attention, brow furrowing, as he saves that for later. The jar for admission gets a 20 from Hank after the phone is put away. "Yeah I gotcha. And Westchester is nice. Chuck's rich, and he has a nice house up there, so we go where he is. You don't know who everyone is, and I don't need to know who everyone is. I wouldn't ask you to breach your security, and I wouldn't want you to ask to breach ours. It's a dangerous world, and you're right in the thick of it." 

:'''{{#var:1798|Josh Foley (1798)}} has posed:''' Josh gives Hank a slightly alarmed look, but defers to his mentor and senior X-Man and puts on a polite smile for Rocko. "Makes sense to me so far! Nice to know we got people on our side, you know? Seems like everyone else is against us," Josh says. He goes to look at the X-Gene history display while they are talking. 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     Rocko nods. "Yeah, but it works out. The folks that help us, they are a bit more..." he searches for the word. "Cautious. They have to fight the seedy underbelly of what goes bump in the night. Glad I don't do that myself. But if your buddy Chuck wants to talk about joinin' up, they'd probably want to meet with you guys. I'm gettin' the vibe that you are more interested to see if we could team up rather than merge, and that's completely fine with me. But trust me, they are gonna want specifics before they go down that road." 

:'''{{#var:95|Henry McCoy (95)}} has posed:''' Henry McCoy folds his arms and leans on a wall, as Rocko continues to explain. "That's right. We've been at this a long time. We're not looking to merge. But we're all mutants to a man, and we care deeply about making sure mutants are treated correctly. If we have to prove ourselves to your bosses, we can find a way to do that. I mean, it should say something when that gang is that mad about us, right? We want to put a stop to the attacks." 

:'''{{#var:1798|Josh Foley (1798)}} has posed:''' Josh shifts uncomfortably but keeps quiet. He inspects the literature some more and watches the conversation out of the corner of his eye. 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     "Hey, that sounds pretty good. You might even teach us here a few things, so good on ya." Rocko grins broadly. "Okay, so I can get with their people and see what time works." He opens the drawer on the basic desk, and pulls out a business card. Rocko Michaels, and it has the contact of the Cultural Center under it. He grabs a cheap pen off the desk and flips it over, writing a new number on it. "Okay, so this is my cell," he says, "Find me a few times, I'll let people know on this side, and we can find something out, how does that sound?" 

:'''{{#var:95|Henry McCoy (95)}} has posed:''' Henry McCoy will take the number looking at it, then putting into an inside jacket pocket. "Thanks a lot Rocko. Some folks in this neighborhood have nothing else going for them, nad nobody else to speak up for them. This matters." 
}}

8565/Into the Lion's Den

2019-07-29T06:12:34Z

GodsKnite: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2019/07/29 |Location=Bushwick - Mutant Town |Synopsis=Nemean is faced with a choice. Stay with Shredder, or go with the Turtles. |Cast of Character..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2019/07/29
|Location=Bushwick - Mutant Town
|Synopsis=Nemean is faced with a choice. Stay with Shredder, or go with the Turtles.
|Cast of Characters=1233,8026,8130,1468,1491,8020
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     The proper leverage. Mutant Town has decidedly become Shredder's turf, both officially with the underworld and in the more legit circles due to his intense defense of the mutants in the area. The Foot had found Pippi, and the Shredder knew that this was the bait he could leverage properly. Something more public.     "You are a curiosity," Shredder says in the back of the pub. It made for good defensive positions. Foot Elite hide on the tops of the tall shelves in the storage room, surrounded by half-filled cardboard boxes and dust. She's been given a kennel, a large one, such is fitting for a dog. The cage is tall enough that she could stand in it, but the bars close together to make it difficult to reach through them.     "A new friend of the Turtles, I see." He turns to Nemean. "You have done well," he says. "You are a powerful ally, Nemean, and you have served excellently. It will give you the revenge you have been seeking." Of course, he knows nothing of any doubts that might be circling the lion's head. The armored master casually strolls in a pace by the cage. "Were you sure to allow them to know where you were going?" 

:'''{{#var:8026|Nemean (8026)}} has posed:''' She had been trying to get through to him, but he lashed out at her and hit her, took her hostage. Now that she was here, and he could see her caged up, Nemean was regretting everything he'd done. He was sitting on one of the food prep tables, running his finger along the back of one of his combat knives, while Shredder talked and gloated. He took a quick glance around. He could probably get to the big guy, but those elites would be on him in a moment if he tried. No, bad time. "I left a pretty obvious trail." He replies, finally, turning the knife over in his hand for a moment, "If they're as good as you say, they should have no trouble following it." And they'll know it's a trap, too, but they'll come anyway. Because that's what heroes do. 

:'''{{#var:8130|Pippi (8130)}} has posed:'''     She was small, especially compared to Nemean. A pitt mix, with wiry, curling 'hair' atop her head. Her ears were firmly pinned back, and she was pushed to the very back of the cage, away from the Shredder.     There was dried blood on her muzzle. Her backpack -- Cody's backpack -- was torn, and reeked of peanutbutter cookies that'd been smashed in the process. At one point a can of white paint had exploded at the scene of the fight.     Pippi hadn't made it easy, but she definitely wasn't subtle about the fight either.     Now she had her tail firmly between her legs, her arms wrapped around her knees, making herself as tiny as possible, but every time the Shredder turned to her, she bared her teeth.     She was trying not to be afraid. They'd come for her. 

:'''{{#var:1468|Leonardo (1468)}} has posed:''' Leonardo knew this day would come sooner or later. Or, if he didn't, he had a very strong feeling. Things with the Foot have had their ebbs and flows, but with the Turtles and crew still around, still standing against Shredder and the Foot, something was going to happen. He didn't know when, didn't know how, didn't know who. He just knew. Pippi was probably the most likely one. She'd had a few occasions where she ventured out on her own, both Leonardo and Alopex warning her about the dangers. Even going out with a buddy was not always safest, but at least that way word could reach the others if something did happen. Usually. This time, it only took a brief patrol topside to find the signs of capture, the obvious clues pointing the way. It was clearly a message. Leonardo would not be who he is if he couldn't figure that much out, and Raphael knew it as well. Leo had to order Raph back to the Lair with him, because this was going to take consultation with Splinter. Shredder wanted them to show up. And, they would. Leonardo, Raphael, Donatello, Michelangelo...and Alopex. No sign of the old rat, however. The five stand outside The Sailor Pub and Bar, unclear why it's been chosen for this, but it's no matter. It will soon be filled with enemies: Shredder's Foot. Clan Hamato. "Let's go. If they want to set a trap for us, we'll bust it up. Be smart, but be fast. Be decisive. Be ninja. They're going down. We stay together." Leonardo is all business, wasting no time in drawing his katanas. There is one real way in aside from trying to sneak around: the front. It fits, because Leo is not in a mood to hide their presence tonight. The door is busted open with a kick. 

:'''{{#var:1491|Splinter (1491)}} has posed:''' Before the battle, Splinter put one hand on Alopex's shoulder, and said, "This will be difficult. Remember, this is Bo-Ryaku, the battlefield of the mind. The Shredder is manipulating us, and provoking you into violent, undisciplined action is what he wants. As painful as it may be... deny him." Then he said, "Go. ...I will meet you inside," before melting backward into the shadows. 

:'''{{#var:8020|Alopex (8020)}} has posed:'''     The only thing that Alopex needed to know was that Pippi was being held by the Foot. Any other information (besides their location) wasn't important. She had gone to her room, taken hold of The Shard, affixed it to her back, and was about to march out the door before she was convinced otherwise. It was -clear- she felt responsible for Pippi. The fox wanted to keep her safe, ensure her protection. This was due to the Pup being the first good thing that happened to Alopex after she left the Foot Clan. In a way, Pippi was the first real family she made outside the Foot. With a sigh of resignation, she agreed to move with the group toward where the trap was set.     Once there, she was still visibly aggitated. The only thing that reall seems to have an affect on her mental state is what Splinter says to her. He was right. Maybe this was a way for Shredder to get at the traitor fox. There was no way that Saki had forgotten about her betrayal after all. "Mmn..." sure, she was still irritated, but there was a bit of calm instilled into turbulent waters. She glances at the brothers, then the door, "I'll follow your lead.." but given the chance... she may do something they may not agree with. 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     Shredder nods, glancing down at the bared teeth. "Such courage in the face of terror," he comments. He doesn't look away. "And why such courage?" he asks her. "Because of teeth, because of claw?" He studies her eyes for a long moment. "Because of fear? And your animal instincts tell you to growl at whatever it is that threatens you, in hopes that you will scare your foe more than you are scared."     Clearly, he is unintimidated. He studies her a few moments longer, maybe an uncomfortable level of staring into the canine eyes before he turns away. "She'll smell them," he says to Nemean. "When they arrive, she'll know." The unspoken is that he should watch her demeanor carefully. Meanwhile, outside, the evening air is filled with the normal pollution of the city. A detachment of three security bots hum to life as their controller brings them online in the store room, and     As the door is kicked in, the patron's glance up from their drinks, and there is a momentary pause. They all seem rather ordinary, though some are clearly x-gene bearers. There is a glance around as they look at each other, not sure what to make of the disturbance.     Of course, in the back, the master looks up.     "They are here," he says. His voice carries through his comm to the Foot who are outside the building, and they start to respond, coming around from the sides to try to trap the turtles in the building. 

:'''{{#var:8026|Nemean (8026)}} has posed:''' "About time." Nemean mutters, as he hops up off of the counter top and sheaths the blade in the front of his tactical rig, "I'll go out there and meet them head to head. Let you run things from back here, bossman." Nemean grabs a rifle from a counter top, and then, holding it in his left hand, pushes open the door from the back, stepping up behind the bar and looking across at the busted down door. "No kids allowed!" He calls out, knowing they're too young to be in here. This is an adult establishment after all. 

:'''{{#var:8130|Pippi (8130)}} has posed:'''     Pippi's ears were searching. Her nose was going full tilt as she looked at the Foot all around.     She doesn't smell the turtles at first. She hears the door kick in, scents muted, muddled by the other patrons, by the food cooking. She shifts her weight in the cage, turning and giving a plaintive look to Cody, then to Shredder's back. If she tries something, they'll be on her too.     Well. She can take a couple more blows, she decides. She exhales.     Focus, just like Leo and Pex taught you, and she reaches down, pushing up on the back wires of the cave, tensing them just enough to try and break them while they're distracted with the Turtles' arrival. She keeps her gaze on the ninja master. 

:'''{{#var:1468|Leonardo (1468)}} has posed:''' Leonardo wastes no time once inside the pub. He isn't even bothering trying to hide what they look like, and why should they? It's Mutant Town. "We're here for our friend. If this doesn't concern you - and you know if it does - get out of here right now." His eyes are little more than slits behind his blue mask. Behind him, other turtles in their own masks of red, purple, and orange stand by, brandishing their weapons, joined by a floofy snow fox mutant. "Shredder! Foot Clan! Show yourselves!" Leonardo calls out, heard over any commotion of scampering patrons moving to vacate the place. 

:'''{{#var:1491|Splinter (1491)}} has posed:'''     They start disappearing, one by one, as the chaos of battle breaks out.     One foot ninja is about to throw a Shuriken, when a long, naked tail wraps around his throat and drags him backward into the dark. He doesn't have time to cry out.     Another is too excited by the chaos to pay adequate attention, and he's yanked *upward* into the rafters. Silence, again.     Finally, a member of the Shredder's retinue slaps his hand to his neck just as if he'd been stung by a bug, and pulls a small, black-feathered dart away, before he collapses.     By the time Splinter abandons his stealth entrance, the Shredder gets the warning of the slow hiss of a Ninja-to being pulled from its scabbard, and then a lunging slash that would take the head of most men. Splinter gives no warning, and issues no challenge.     Cold, silent, and deadly. The perfect ninja assassin. 

:'''{{#var:8020|Alopex (8020)}} has posed:'''     It seems that Alopex was taking up the flank behind the brothers. It's probably best considering she's seeing red, and it's not just Raphael's mask that she's seeing. She's already scanning the room, looking for recognizable faces, stepping aside to let bystanders get out, but what really seems to upset her beyond where she was already is Nemean's appearence.     "You. WHAT DID YOU DO?!" she barks, starting to move past the brothers one at a time, hand on the hilt of the Shard as she goes. "Did you listen to NOTHING we told you?!" 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     "What?" one of the men at the bar looks a little bewildered. "They're...turtles." They seem to be genuinely at a loss. Shredder nods to Nemean, and follows him out, unafraid to be seen in this place. From behind, his Godan tells him there's incoming, and he tucks his head to the side, the scrape of steel running against the edge of the helmet. "Yoshi," he growls. "You bring your new children to their deaths, just as you did before," he tells hims. The response is the kick of a boot, coming around to try to clear the space.     Meanwhile, the three security bots activate, rolling forward on their single wheel. One of them goes for Splinter first, while the other two speed out behind Nemean, mechanical tentacles whipping out, one at Leo, and the other at Alopex. 

:'''{{#var:8026|Nemean (8026)}} has posed:''' "I did what I had to." Nemean replies to Alopex. He wants to tell her he's sorry, but he can't. Things kick off too quickly. Splinter comes out of nowhere and strikes at Shredder, and Nemean turns, caught off guard by the attack out of nowhere. This of course opens him up to being attacked from behind by the fox, who he has forgotten about in that moment of distraction by the sensei. He moves to bring his rifle up to try to get a bead on Splinter, though Shredder probably would want to keep that fight to himself. 

:'''{{#var:8130|Pippi (8130)}} has posed:'''     Alopex is yelling. Pippi's eyes go wide as her ears prick forward. Her eyes narrow. Her fingers curl a moment, feeling the sting of those words, from Alopex, and she exhales. Her eyes close, and she moves.     She grasps at the bottom of the cage, and giving a low growl she snaps the metal, her muscles tensing before the metal snaps away, and she takes the cage with her. her head down low, her ears pinned back, and as the Bots make their appearance, Pippi's on the uptake, using the cage and swinging the heavy-duty wire mangle at the Bot closest to her, the one going after Splinter!     Hey, gotta protect the old man, right? 

:'''{{#var:1468|Leonardo (1468)}} has posed:''' "Nemean. I'm disappointed," Leonardo begins to say before Alopex has started to go beyond them. He casts her a quick glance but doesn't get in the way. If the two of them are going to fight, he won't stop them this time. This is something they may just have to do if it means knocking some sense into the former agent turned lion mutant. Knowing where Splinter is, he catches a glimpse of motion. "Father! Watch out!" Leo calls, even as one of the bots gives him pause as it wheels toward him. As soon as the metallic tentacles lash out, however, his swords cut through the air with precision, slicing them apart before he leaps in for the 'kill' - a dual stabbing thrust downward into the 'head' of the robot. His brothers fan out, ready for any Foot who decide they're froggy. Raphael itches to charge already, sais in an attack grip while Donatello's bo is brandished in both hands. Michaelangelo twirls his nunchucks, but is momentarily distracted enough to note, "Guys! They have Big Buck Hunter here!" Leave it to him to be more into video games, and Raph has no qualms about swatting the back of Mikey's head. 

:'''{{#var:1491|Splinter (1491)}} has posed:'''     "I didn't send them anywhere, Saki." Splinter says, ducking that kick. As he moves, his tail lashes out, catching an impetuous Foot Soldier in the face, knocking him sprawling. Is this rat prepared to engage one of the deadliest men alive in a small room full of armed men?     The answer is yes.     "You murdered them. They were *defenseless* and you *murdered them*. But now my sons are grown, and they can survive on their own. They *choose* to stand up to you."     "You have violated yet another person, destroyed their life, for your own selfish end. What you cannot dominate, you must destroy-- I didn't want to kill anymore, and after everything we'd been through together, you couldn't even let me have *that*!"     He lunges again, trying to lock his old friend into a clinch. "Control of anything beyond oneself is an illusion. I tried to teach you this... ages ago! I'll try HARDER!" And then he's *snapping* at the Shredder's face, trying to bite him. Is he focused on the Shredder? Yes. But he also trusts the others to watch each other's backs... and fully intends to keep his old friend tied up dealing with him. 

:'''{{#var:8020|Alopex (8020)}} has posed:'''     No one moves to stop her. No one tries to pull Alopex back as the Shard is drawn for the first time in ages, and once she's close enough to Nemean, all that emotion is poured into a swing that could cleave the heavens if such a thing were possible. She has had enough of Shredder, she has had enough of seeing her mistakes come to fruition, and today she will correct one of them if no one else will do so! At least, somewhere in her subconscious, the swing is aimed to incapacitate and not kill, but that would be enough if Splinter could at least give Cody a moment to try and remove the spell she was sure had been cast over Nemean. This. Must. Be. Corrected!     After the swing, robots. "NOT NOW!" she snarls out as the weapon is quickly swung at the robot next. If the mech isn't careful, it is going to find out just how insanely sharp this meteor sword really is. 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     The elite take the cue to drop in from above the shelving. The Shredder is under attack, and it is their mission to protect him. The robot attacking Splinter is caught by the cage's wreckage, sending it off course. It spins back around to attack its new threat, the coils of its electrically charged tentacle coming to life as it sends a current through the piece of cage being used against it.     The men at the bar glance at each other, then back at the turtles.     "You fight against the Family, you fight against all of us," they comment. One of them looks like Rey. He seemed like a nice enough guy before in the smoke shop. Now, though, he's angry, and he takes his whiskey and throws it forward at Leo, swinging a lit hand through the alcohol as he does, causing a burst of flame to fling at the turtle.     "Failing to take responsibility will not change your lot," Shredder answers Splinter. He holds tightly as the rat clenches him, keeping the long snout just out of reach, then raking his claws downward, seeking purchase along the chest of his old comrade. "You want blood, and I did not make you want it," he accuses. 

:'''{{#var:8026|Nemean (8026)}} has posed:''' She doesn't say anything else to him, but Nemean can feel her come up behind him. He wheels around towards Alopex, but too late, as that blade slashes across him. She cuts his rifle into two pieces, and strikes true on his body. She can hit a little harder than normal, because his defensive skin and combat armor can take it. She still draws blood, though, tossing him backwards over the bar and into the shelf full of booze behind it. He reaches a hand down to rub across the wound, feeling the warmth of blood, and looking back up at the fox, who's now being attacked by the robots. This whole thing is wrong. She could have killed him if she'd gone for the head, but she didn't. Why didn't she? He would have, right? No, he couldn't have. He pushes himself back to his feet, unsteady but still alive, reaching to try to find any of his other weapons to bring to bear against...He's not sure. He turns to look back at Shredder and Splinter fighting. Could now be the time to strike? Would his mind even let him? 

:'''{{#var:8130|Pippi (8130)}} has posed:'''     "Oop--yee--AA-AA-AA-AA-AO-OO-OO-OW-OW-CH!" Pippi cries out, her cries mixing between a howl of pain and a teen's pained cry. There's a brief moment where she gets enough control to release the cage -- by swinging the electrified mess of the cage, hte bot, and all other things forwards the oncmoing foot Elite -- and she realizes, slinging the Electric Tentacle Botaloo at the oncoming Foot Soldiers that she's between them and Shredder.     Not the best place to be, but she exhales, and braces herself, dried blood still on the white side of her muzzle.     "Jus' like the katas, Pip!" she whispers. 

:'''{{#var:1468|Leonardo (1468)}} has posed:''' Leonardo recognizes Rey, all right. "You? Shredder is using the Family to benefit himself. He's a liar and a deceiver. If you think he really cares about anything beyond how useful you are to him, you're all blind. As soon as he decides you're of no worth to him, he'll throw you out like the trash and you'll be lucky if that's all he does." Still, Rey's ability to send a fireball his way gives him reason to pause after scrambling and rolling to one side, measuring his response even after this. "We have no issue with the Family, but if you stand with Shredder you're going down one way or another. You don't know any better, so maybe we'll have to show you." This is how it comes to be that a katana is tucked aside long enough for him to come up with a few smoke pellets, which are thrown into the bar area to impede their sight for the time being. Raphael growls. "C'mon, bro! All they're gonna understand is an ass-kicking, so let's give them what they really want!" Michaelangelo and Donatello take up positions to deal with whatever comes their way, but Leo snaps at Raph. "They're not the only ones I was talking to." He points toward Nemean as Alopex moves in to engage with the mutant. Whatever's going on in the back, his view is cut off from the angle he's ended up with. There are definitely sounds, though. Sounds and voices. 

:'''{{#var:1491|Splinter (1491)}} has posed:'''     Those claws slice along Splinter's chest - but then he turns, and he bends his head down to snap at the juncture of the Shredder's forearm and elbow, trying to dig his teeth into the flesh there, and tear.     "     "You wanted to show me the truth of my soul, the truth of who I really was, and in a way... you *did*, Saki. There is just one problem. Even if I am a killer of men," And even though he is no longer young, he is fast, fast, so fast that even one of Shredder's Elite isn't fast enough to stop a kick that bends his knee at an unnatural angle, shattering it. "Even if that is the truth of my soul--"     "I will never be *your* killer. Instead, I will dog your steps for as long as you exist in this world. I will poison your victories... After two lifetimes, I will chase you across a hundred more. I will exploit your mistakes. Where you do evil, I will UNDO it--"     "Until finally, the death that you've deferred comes for you, and I can usher you to Yomi-no-Kuni where you can reflect on the *wicked* things you have done for all eternity!"     But then he reaches into his robe, and withdraws something round -- the Shredder can see the flash bomb in his hand, as he throws it to the ground -- but instead he's taking advantage of the BANG and the smoke to back out of the fight.     "You." He says, pointing to Nemean. "I see your doubt. Remember, a family is not about what is given, what is *owed*, it is about what is *shared*. Does the father rule over his sons?" A Foot Ninja strays too close, and Splinter folds him up in a hold, disabling him and throwing him back into the fray. "What sort of family has the Shredder given you? *Ask yourself*!" 

:'''{{#var:8020|Alopex (8020)}} has posed:'''     Alopex could feel the sword's bite as it found Nemean's form. He could take the slash, there was no doubt of it, but when he finds himself flung over the bar and into the alcohol behind it, he'd likely hear and then see, the fox hop onto the bar, Shard pointed down at him. Her eyes are narrow, and it's quite clear that she's about ready to swing again, but she has at least one thing to say to him now that Splinter has spoken.     "Are you a man or a slave, Cody Garret? I want to hear you say it. If you're still in there, if you're still a man? You'll choose to do right. If you're just a slave, you'll never be free, and you'll be my enemy for life. So. Which is it? Nemean or Cody Garret? I heard once that A man chooses, but a slave obeys. So, I see it this way. Either Cody Garret chooses, or Nemean just obeys. Make your choice because I'm getting -very- impaitent," and she trusts her allies to cover her, for at least this one moment. 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     The haze covers the bar as Leo's smoke pellets, the red and blue neon from the beer advertising neon piercing through inspecifically. Rey's voice can be heard. "We know that we're safe now," he says to Leo, though he can't see him. "We are safe for the first time in our lives! You don't get to steal that from us."     Shredder clenches his teeth as the rat's sink into his forearm, drawing blood. The flash bomb causes him to cover his eyes to avoid being burned, looking back into the smoke filled bar, unable to see where Splinter had disappeared to. "Nemean, they come to you, be vigilant!" he calls out.     The Foot Elite burst ahead of Shredder into the haze, seeking to find Splinter, Alopex, and the Turtles. 

:'''{{#var:8026|Nemean (8026)}} has posed:''' Confused, dazed from the strike, with smoke filling the air and alcohol all over him, Nemean looks up at Alopex. He keeps expecting the killing blow to come, but it doesn't. Suddenly he finds Splinter talking to him. Telling him about family. Nemean never really had much in the way of family, until he met Alopex and her's. He remembers now, how he really met her. It's as clear as day. A shining light in the fog that has clouded his mind. "Help me." He says to Alopex, holding up one of his hands towards her. Looks like he chooses. 

:'''{{#var:8020|Alopex (8020)}} has posed:'''     The Shard is sheathed, she kneels, and then she reaches out to haul him up. "Good choice," she offers before hopping down from the bar, putting herself between him and Shredder's elite. "Splinter, if I can ask a favor, I don't know what they did to his mind, but if you can do -anything- about it, now is the time. I'll hold them off," she says, glaring in Shredder's general direction. "All of them." 

:'''{{#var:8130|Pippi (8130)}} has posed:'''     Pippi isn't used to flashbangs and smokebombs. She coughs, and cries out in surprise, blinking, momentarily.     But she hears those words. She hears Shredder call out to Nemean, and she hears Cody's quiet words, and through the din Alopex's answer.     HEr ears prick up, and she feels her chest tighten.     Still behind the Foot Clan, there is one person between her and the Turtles, and Cody, and Alopex and Splinter.     Between her and her family. And that's a very dangerous place to be.     She didn't have anything but her strength now, and heck, that might just be enough as she picks up cans. Tomato cans. Oil. Drink mixes. Whatever she can get her hands on in the back and she just begins launching them at anyone who looks like a can opener.     "GET OUTTA MY WAY YOU GRANPA SMELLIN' TOILET JOCKEY!" she bellows out.     And she's throwing with all her strength. Might wanna duck, since that can of olives smashed through the wall. 

:'''{{#var:1468|Leonardo (1468)}} has posed:''' "You'll never be safe working for Shredder! One day you'll know the truth!" Leonardo retorts, but it can be noted he does not move to fight with members of the Family if he can help it, in spite of his threatened warning. This is primarily because the Foot Elite spill out into the bar and Leo sounds the call. "Attack!" His brothers know how far they're exepected to go, how they've been taught to hold back and refrain from killing, from maiming. Incapacitate. Knock out if necessary. Leonardo himself moves closer to Nemean and Alopex, eyes sweeping past Splinter as he makes his appearance, then back to the lion in particular. "Remember the zoo! Think! You know the truth!" Swords remain out for defensive purposes only, as he focuses to keep some form of attention on his entire surroundings while Alopex again puts her trust in Cody/Nemean. There's still the matter of the one they actually came here for. "Where's Pippi?" The new hole in the wall might be his answer. Turning toward Rey, he says scathingly, "Your boss has a bad habit of kidnapping friends of ours. Did you know that?" 

:'''{{#var:1491|Splinter (1491)}} has posed:'''     "The work of his *witch* isn't undone in the blink of an eye. It will take time, and quiet." Splinter says, before he turns, his blade in his hand. "No, my child. We fight together. For each other."     "Remember, Saki -- Hell is waiting! For both of us!"     He glances back to the others. "It's time to leave, my sons. *Donatello*! Ninja, *VANISH*!" 

:'''{{#var:8020|Alopex (8020)}} has posed:'''     Vanish? That Alopex can do. "Back to where it started, Cody. I don't think the Lair is gonna work until we have whatever's in you all the way out. Okay?" Leonardo would know what that means, at least. "Wait what about-" Suddenly cans are flying overhead, everywhere else, at high speed, and into the general area for the patrons, "... I think she freed herself.." she muses with a bit of pride before tugging on the lion's arm. "I really hope you don't relapse," she muses aloud as she follows Splinter's order. "Pip! Back to December!" she yells out. 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     Shredder starts to follow into the room when the olives smash against the wall. He takes a glance over his shoulder just in time to receive the second blow as the can of tomatoes crashes into his helmet. It sends him up against the door jam, knocking his helmet from his head and revealing his hair. He spins about, rather surprised. It certainly wasn't his plan to take the hit. But his eyes narrow as he looks back in her direction. Even with a helmet, he's probably going to have a bruise from that one. 

:'''{{#var:1491|Splinter (1491)}} has posed:'''     ...And just as one of the foot ninjas is reaching for the Shredder's helmet, a long rat tail reaches out and grabs it. *Yoink!*-- 

:'''{{#var:8130|Pippi (8130)}} has posed:'''     Pippi has been an astute student. She has worked hard to learn how to hit, how to strike, and how to take blows -- and she is legit pretty angry, and as Shredder turns, she's agilely moving through the flotsam and jetsam on steady feet--     And Pippi chooses, of all things, one of Mikey's videogames.     "SHORYU-CAN!"     And Shredder might take another can of pizza sauce to the face as Pippi BOOKS IT the heck past him to rejoin her own family! 

:'''{{#var:1468|Leonardo (1468)}} has posed:''' "I'm seeing a touch of grey there, Shred-Head! You should try a little Just For Men!" Leonardo proves he can say something snappy, but he only has one thing to add as all of this is taking place, which he somehow manages to keep a straight face about: "Ninja, vanish!" More smoke pellets are thrown down, opening the way for those who would have been led into a trap to finish turning the tables on the Foot, if only for one night, regaining Pippi and making off with Nemean as well. Soon, the real work begins. 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     The follow up can of sauce is sliced as it comes toward him, slinging tomato sauce upon him as he deflects it. He's not concerned with appearance, though, as Pippi rushes past he slashes out at her ribs with his tekko-kagi claws on the other hand. 

:'''{{#var:8130|Pippi (8130)}} has posed:'''     There's a sharp cry, but Pippi keeps moving, in spite of her ripped shirt and now bleeding ribs.     Way more important to make sure that she's there to help Cody, Alopex and Splinter. Someone's gotta look out for them, after all! 

:'''{{#var:1491|Splinter (1491)}} has posed:'''     If Splinter waves that helmet tauntingly at the Shredder before he pulls it away to vanish in the chaos...     Who's going to know but them? Be seeing you... old friend. 
}}

8489/Offer on the Table

2019-07-24T20:43:17Z

GodsKnite: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2019/07/24 |Location=New York Public Library - Harlem - NYC |Synopsis=Nadia gets encouragement to join the Foot, and turns it down flat. |Cast of C..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2019/07/24
|Location=New York Public Library - Harlem - NYC
|Synopsis=Nadia gets encouragement to join the Foot, and turns it down flat.
|Cast of Characters=1233,7733
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     It's warm out today. It's helpful when you are wanting to keep crime down, in a way. People want to be inside, they don't want to be out and about. Of course, not everyone has that luxury. In Harlem, there are still many people milling about, walking in and out of shops, and going about their business.     Betty Sanders is one of them. She looks like your average college student, a short brunette with a button nose and an all-American girl kind of look. Those who know her well, though, know that behind the journalism career she is pursuing at NYU, she's also an infiltration agent for the Foot. She handles several undercover operations, and today's operation: A teenager whow as witnessed with the ability to shrink and shrink other things around her. She's been tracking the sightings of Nadia on the Foot's radar, trying to learn her patterns and behavior, or at least as best a person can without actual interaction. Today though, it's no more sideline observation, reports from other Foot agents, or hacked video cameras. Today, she is out to make contact. 

:'''{{#var:7733|Nadia Pym (7733)}} has posed:''' While it might seem like tracking down a teenager would be childs play it turns out there's a lot more work involved when that teenager happens to have espionage training. It also doesn't hurt that she can shrink herself beyond most peoples ability to see, let alone track. But that doesn't mean it's impossible to find Nadia. Especially when she's a regular visitor to what is arguably one of the biggest and best libraries in the tri-state area. There are after all thousands of books on science here that Nadia hasn't had chance to read. Of course that's not through lack of trying. As evidenced by the little book fort she's built around herself. And the fact she seems to have four college level textbooks open at the same time. Evidentally reading them all at once. 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     Betty enters the library, searching for the girl that is her target, a denim knapsack on her back, and a white polo and blue jeans as a modest but flattering attire. She makes her way through the cooridors of books until she spots the pile. A tilt of her head, and she starts to circle the mountain until she spots Nadia.     "That's quite a good chunk of reading," she comments. "You have a research paper you are working on?" she asks. 

:'''{{#var:7733|Nadia Pym (7733)}} has posed:''' "Research paper? Oh no, nothing like that," Nadia replies with a hint of a Russian accent, glancing up and smiling. "This is just some light reading. I'm teaching myself coding... Mechanical engineering and a few other things. Languages mostly. Sometimes research papers come out in other languages first and I think I could save myself some waiting if I looked at them in their native languages." She's dressed for the season with a simple Summer dress and a messenger bag. Although every now and again she fans herself with a couple of sheets of paper. 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     A smile comes to Betty's face. "Wow, that's /some/ light reading!" she compliments. She takes the liberty to move to sit on the corner of the desk, looking down at the teenager. "You must be pretty smart to pull that off." She doesn't look like she's planning to leave any moment soon. "I have learned Japanese and French," the brunette confesses. "Japanese was really hard, but useful for work. And French is the next most broadly used language in the world after English." She pauses, "Well, Chinese probably is, but I mean in the Western world." 

:'''{{#var:7733|Nadia Pym (7733)}} has posed:''' Nadia scoots some of her stack of books to one side. Making room for the other library patron. "I grew up speaking Russian but I taught myself English and Mandarin. Well, I had a little help from my friend Ying for the last one... But she's about my age so it's not like I had formal lessons!" "It certainly helps being intelligent but honestly motivation and hard work are just as important. Plus imagination. You could be the smartest person in the universe but if you can't think of ways to use that intelligence it's really just wasted." She shrugs. "Would it be rude of me to ask what sort of work it is you do?" 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     "No, it's not rude at all!" Betty says happily. She tosses her hair a little. "I'm studying to be an investigative reporter at NYU. I currently work with the Washington Square, the Collegiate publication." She sounds very proud. But none of that seems to be things that require Japanese.     "I've found some pretty good uses of investigative journalism," she adds. "I really feel I'm being able to make a real difference." 

:'''{{#var:7733|Nadia Pym (7733)}} has posed:''' "Investigative journalism? Is that like blogging?" Nadia asks curiously, her attention turning away from the books. "I must admit I find it strange that people still produce media in big groups. Given how easy it is for citizen journalists to put out content without any oversight. It seems... backwards. No offense intended!" She wafts the blank paper to fan herself. "You know I didn't know America would be so warm but... perhaps that was naive of me. Almost everywhere on the planet is warm compared to Siberia in Winter." 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     "Oh, I know, it's super hot right now," Betty agrees. "It's easy to put out content," she comments, "But it's not easy to put out quality and verifiable content. Investigative journalism is like...Anderson Cooper, Walter Cronkite, Ida Tarbell, Carl Bernstein! They call us muckrackers. Go and dig in and find the truth when somebody tries to sell the public a bunch of lies, and we out the suckers." She shrugs. "One day at least. But Siberia? You're a long way from home. Your parents move here for work or something?" She knows of no parents this girl has had contact with. Investigative journalism! 

:'''{{#var:7733|Nadia Pym (7733)}} has posed:''' Nadia Pym blinks a few times. "I'm sorry but I have no idea who any of those people are," she admits apologetically. "Presumably though they all worked as reporters? Like.. April O'Neil was it? The one from Channel Six." She hrmmms. "My parents? My Mom unfortunately died when I was little. And my Dad is... it's very complicated. But I'm basically an emancipated minor so I live by myself." She flashes a smile. "Perks of being exceptionally smart I suppose!" 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     "April O'Neil?" Betty giggles a little. "She does that 'truther' blog, but I think she just has an axe to grind about mutant turtles or something," she dismisses the woman. "But, technically, yes.     She listens as Nadia tells of her parents. "So...Siberia. Now an emancipated minor in the US." She tips her hand a little. "What about those weirdos that have been following you about?" she asks. Clearly, she knows more than she's been pretending, and the statement is intended as something to reveal that she didn't just wander up by happenstance. 

:'''{{#var:7733|Nadia Pym (7733)}} has posed:''' "Mutant turtles would be rather interesting from a scientific point of view," Nadia points out. "I dabble in genetics you see. So it's something I'm professionally curious about." When Betty brings up the Red Room agents, aka the weirdos, Nadia's eyes flick from side to side. Her table of choice sits in a corner with only limited approaches. Ideal for keeping an eye on the other library patrons just to be safe. "You will have to be more specific. Everyone seems weird to me. And.. there have been several times people have followed me. Young woman alone in rough parts of town, probably out to rob me or something." 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     "I don't think they are out to mug you," Betty comments. "I gotta admit, you've been kind of one of my projects," she says. "You're smart and enigmatic. A lot of things I don't know yet, which isn't the case for most people. There's usually more of a paper trail. See, a friend of mine saw you when you got caught in that fight between a few gangs a few weeks ago. He told me he saw you shrink, and saw you also shrink a hummer." She shrugs nonchalantly, as if it's not all that bizarre. "So I know you can fight as well. I'm going to venture a guess that whoever your recurring stalkers are, they're not after your purse. I don't like people like that." 

:'''{{#var:7733|Nadia Pym (7733)}} has posed:''' "What is the saying... About the size of the world being.." Nadia mimes a sphere with her hands, then gestures as if to indicate the sphere was shrinking. "There are more than eight million people living in New York city." She shuts one of the books infront of her and shifts it a little to one side. "How do you know I haven't done something bad and those people are with the police?" "Not that I am suggesting I've done anything wrong! But if I'm enigmatic how would you know otherwise?" She flashes a smile. "I thank you for the concern, but I am confident I can look after myself. Besides, I do not wish to be rude but... You'd only be putting yourself in danger trying to get involved." 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     "I guess I don't," Betty admits. "But I can't know that 'til I investigate, right?" she teases a smile. She props on elbow on one of the stacks of books that are piles around the desk. "So, only putting myself in danger, huh?" she asks. "What if I told you my other job was to put an end to evil organizations and to make the world a better place?" she asks. "I've been in a few dangerous situations in the past. And I work with some people who I'm /sure/ can be as dangerous as whoever is after you. My job is to find people who need our help." 

:'''{{#var:7733|Nadia Pym (7733)}} has posed:''' "Investigation of that nature is usually best carried out with friends," Nadia ventures, picking up a pencil from amongst the piles of books and paper. Her other hand still resting on the closed hardback book. "Statistically speaking that would make the friend who saw me the ninja." She muses. "So, if you did tell me such a thing it would seem... suspicious. No offense. But I am being followed by 'bad people' and it would be very inadvisable for me to go to any strange places with people I just met. Especially not when you stipulate you work with dangerous people in a mysterious group." 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     "That's fair," Betty answers. "But I didn't say he was a ninja. He's actually the guy who got shot that day. He's doing better, so thanks for the help. But I've been in bad situations myself. She reaches out, placing a hand on Nadia's if she's allowed. "I know what it can be like to be alone, to not know whether you're safe at any moment. They helped me. I wouldn't want to make you do anything you're not comfortable with, but we could use someone like you with us, and those bad people? We can help you with them. Look at it as more...symbiotiic. You don't need to decide right now, but whenever you're ready, I'd be happy to introduce you. Hopefully you'll want to pursue it before your tails get lucky one of these days, and catch you." 

:'''{{#var:7733|Nadia Pym (7733)}} has posed:''' "And the ninja was... simply a coincidence?" Nadia asks, keeping her arm still as Betty reaches out. Although adjusts her grip on the pencil, turning the point down almost as if it were a weapon. "Your friend needed 'help' you see. And it makes me question what form the help you are offering comes in? Legal aid? Moral support? Or something else entirely." She shrugs and offers an rueful grin. "If that does happen hopefully I will not hurt any of them too badly. I would feel bad for them afterwards." 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     "The help takes many forms," Betty says. "Depends on what you need. We can get you legal, employment help, housing." She says the last with emphasis. "And we can take care of the people who are bothering you. My friend Jack, he was on lookout to watch over part of town to stop things like what you saw between those gangs, to help keep citizens safe." She shrugs. "And if you are so good at fighting that you could beat off several grown men, then I'm /sure/ there's a story behind that." 

:'''{{#var:7733|Nadia Pym (7733)}} has posed:''' "There are certain restrictions on the stories I can tell people," Nadia offers, noncommittally. "It is, you know, complicated. And probably much less interesting than you are imagining!" She laughs. "As for housing and those other things I can assure you I'm fine. But thank you for your concern!" 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     Betty licks her lips, as if trying to think of what she should ask next. "Come on," she coaches, as if they were old friends. "I'm not doing this for a story. You have some remarkable abilities. Are you a mutant?" she asks directly. "It's okay to be a mutant. These people I work for, it's more than a job. They are a family. We look out for each other. We really care about each other. It has to be lonely by yourself. We have mutants that are part of our family that would be rejected nearly everywhere else. I know a boy who looks like a space alien. He was hiding in the sewers before we found him." 

:'''{{#var:7733|Nadia Pym (7733)}} has posed:''' "You know I've read about many of these techniques you are employing," Nadia notes dryly, shifting the pile of books with the hand Betty's hand was on. Then tapping on the cover of a psychology textbook. "And it seems to me that if you were part of a group I would wish to put my trust you would not be trying this particular approach. I think perhaps I will check out some of my reading and continue elsewhere." She makes as if to stand, then if Betty doesn't try get in the way Nadia picks up the library limit of books an individual can check out at once. "I think it would be best if you stopped looking into my life any further." 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     Betty doesn't stop her, but looks mildly quizzically at Nadia. "Techniques?" she asks. It seems she doesn't understand. As Nadia gets to her feet, she shrugs her shoulders. "Well, you do that, or whatever. But if you get in trouble, think about it, okay?" she says. It seems like she took a mild personal affront to her proposal being referred to as a technique, though she doesn't come out to say it. "Just..." she pulls her backpack off hurriedly, and pulls a pen and a pad of paper out. "Just think about it. She jots down a phone number. "That's my cell. You think I'm lyin', or trying to trap you, or whatever, just...some people really do care." She tears free the page and puts it on the top of the books in Nadia's hands. "Good luck." 

:'''{{#var:7733|Nadia Pym (7733)}} has posed:''' "I have always found luck to be a poor substitute for talent," Nadia replies solemnly, leaving the paper on her stack of books as she heads towards the main library desk. "Anyway, I hope you have a pleasant day." And then she's off. Leaving a trail that almost immediately seems to vanish a block from the front door. 
}}

7999/Retaliation: Not Quite As Planned

2019-07-23T17:28:49Z

GodsKnite: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2019/06/22 |Location=Hospital |Synopsis=Fiona thinks she's coming to visit June and be of help. Frank, however, decides that's not happening. |Cast..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2019/06/22
|Location=Hospital
|Synopsis=Fiona thinks she's coming to visit June and be of help. Frank, however, decides that's not happening.
|Cast of Characters=1787,984,7620
|Tinyplot=Retaliation
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:1787|June (1787)}} has posed:'''     June's had better days. In a hospital gown, laying on the bed, June has a cast on her right fore leg, and a tube across her face. Under arrest, but under treatment at the hospital for the poisonous gas and her broken leg. She was the only person left when everyone fled the scene, caught in a beartrap in the doorway of Linda Macenzie's room. In her pocket was a broken poison dart. Lab analysis isn't back, but odds are good it's the poison that killed her.     June's record isn't short. Disturbing the peace, a visit to Juvy when she was younger. A runaway. Member of the Purple Dragons gang. A new entry says that she is a suspected member of the Hand. Disappeared at age 17 with several outstanding warrants including assault, reckless endangerment, shoplifting, and armed robbery.     The name she gave was Cara Thomas, no criminal record, but wanted for questioning on several misdemeanors. Cara apparently is 24 years old, where June is just 20.     She sits with the back on the bed, flipping through channels on the TV. "Damn soap operas, who watches this shit?" she mutters. 

:'''{{#var:984|Fiona Glenanne (984)}} has posed:''' Fiona meantime is walking into the lobby asking to speak to Cara. She's coming in with her usual clothing on, and she's not brought a gun this time. Not that she needs one, given she can fight. Still she shakes her head and steps toward the reception. "Hey, I'm here to see a Cara Thomas" she says and steps back to take a seat. "Oh my name? Fiona Glenanne." she says and takes a seat. Fi's picking up one of the magazines as she's pulling off the 'looking bored' thing really. She is bored, and.....looks unhappy....mostly due to being bored and waiting and grumpy. 

:'''{{#var:7620|Frank Quaid (7620)}} has posed:''' Frank frowns as he leaves the ER recovery wing and reads over a message from the detective-sergeant running the hospital investigation at the moment. It is about someone at the front counter asking to see the in-custody, and the name came back with a brutal criminal record. Frank curses under his breath. <<Get some uniforms nearby but out of sight>> he texts back. <<I'll handle it.>> Frank walks down the hall and waves down one of his detectives passing the other way. He gets her handcuffs from her, then goes a bit closer. He waits a couple of minutes until he feels the uniformed members have had time to arrive, then walks into the lobby. He checks in with the person at the front counter. She points at Fiona. Frank walks over. "Fiona Glenanne?" he asks. "I'm Captain Frank Quaid, NYPD. Do you have some ID with you?" 

:'''{{#var:984|Fiona Glenanne (984)}} has posed:''' Fi pulls out her ID and nods. "I got ID, yes" she says. "What's this about, Captain Quaid?" she asks then looks serious. "If you want my input on something then you can just ask me" she says and stands up. "If you don't mind, Captain, I need to speak to Miss Thomas upstairs about a family matter" she says and she's bluffing....though her ID is real...she looks annoyed at being asked for ID when all she wants to do is speak to, as she puts, it...family. She's got a bad feeling about this, though. She's unarmed. She's done /nothing/ wrong in her eyes. She's not looking happy as she shakes her head. "Hang on though. I'd like to speak to Miss Thomas before you do anything" she points out. 

:'''{{#var:7620|Frank Quaid (7620)}} has posed:''' Frank accepts her ID, looks it over and then pockets it. "Ms. 'Thomas', is indisposed. And you are under arrest for several outstanding warrants," Frank says. "Turn around and put your hands behind your back." A couple of uniform officers walk into the far side of the lobby out of the hallways. There is nobody between Fiona and the door. 

:'''{{#var:984|Fiona Glenanne (984)}} has posed:''' Fiona doesn't move for amoment as if taking it in. "What. They sent a captain to arrest somebody on warrants? I thought you were the big shot for terrorism and all over the news? Isn't this a little beneath you?" Fiona asks, her fiery temper rising, but she's got an idea on how to sort this. "So let's see. You're arresting me on warrants? What warrants?" she asks and moves to do as instructed, though she's quiet, not saying anything that'd incriminate her. She's also keenly aware as of right now....she's not been read her rights. Fi's been in /enough/ trouble to know lawyers 

:'''{{#var:7620|Frank Quaid (7620)}} has posed:''' Frank watches Fiona carefully while she rants at him. He does not rise to the bait. When she turns, he moves to try and grab her right wrist and handcuff her. "We'll get you all the details," Frank assures Fiona as he moves to take her into custody. 

:'''{{#var:984|Fiona Glenanne (984)}} has posed:''' Fiona lets herself get arrested, though she's made a note she's not been read her rights. Still, Fi wants a lawyer, she's just got to pick which one....well, a lawyer /on retainer/ for afterwards to ensure she's on the straight and narrow. Maybe going through this is a badge of honor, or rite of passage, really. She's got a ton of info that the NYPD /might/ want to hear, but she'll do her best to drive a hard bargain.....or, at the least, think about it. Fi looks unhappy at being arrested, since /nobody/ is happy about getting a set of new cuffs. 

:'''{{#var:7620|Frank Quaid (7620)}} has posed:''' Frank secures the cuffs on Fiona and slips one hand under arm to keep a hold of her. He pulls out his phone and starts audio-recording. "This is recording now, by the way. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided for you. Do you understand the rights I've read? Do you want to speak with a lawyer?" Once he finishes, and before she anwers, he beckons to one of the uniformed officers to come over. People glance curiously at Fiona and Frank as they walk by to other parts of the hospital. A hospital security officer has poked her head into the lobby and is watching. 

:'''{{#var:984|Fiona Glenanne (984)}} has posed:''' "No" Fiona says. "I'd like to just get this over with" Fi says and looks around quietly. She's been cuffed. No running away now....but...she's a crafty, resourceful woman really. You don't survive as long as Fi has in a nation like Ireland without being a little creative. Still she's playing along for now. ..she's got a feeling this won't go to trial. If by some curveball it does, she's got an idea who to call. Plus, Fi's not fighting. She's absolutely being a model detainee. She's even being polite and respectful.....despite her inner temper. 

:'''{{#var:7620|Frank Quaid (7620)}} has posed:''' The uniformed officer takes hold of Fiona, not roughly but certainly firmly. She is escorted out of the hospital for transport to cells for processing on her warrants. 
}}

7835/Explosive Introductions

2019-07-23T16:43:59Z

GodsKnite: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2019/06/11 |Location=Skytrain Station - Gotham City |Synopsis=June and Fiona meet for the first time. |Cast of Characters=1787,984 |pretty=yes }} {..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2019/06/11
|Location=Skytrain Station - Gotham City
|Synopsis=June and Fiona meet for the first time.
|Cast of Characters=1787,984
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:1787|June (1787)}} has posed:'''     Another cloudy Tuesday morning. June has one earbud in, the other left free so she can hear what is happening around her. She glares up at the potential rain. "This city blows," she mutters as she starts to ascend the steps to the skytrain. She doesn't trust the elevators. Her bleach and red striped hair stands out in the crowd, the latest shift in her appearance. While she wears tight clothes, though, she's unlikely to have too many guys ogle her given her wiry build, and a pierced scowl on her face that might well intimidate many.     She makes her way to the platform, then works her way to the back, unlike most people. She goes to the AED, finding the small microcamera that has been planted there for the Foot, and turns it up and away so that it views the arch supports instead of the people who are on the platform. Just for good measure, she flips a bird at the camera, which to most onlookers, it looks like she's flipping off the AED machine, slightly bizarre behavior, but nothing worth commenting on in the big city. 

:'''{{#var:984|Fiona Glenanne (984)}} has posed:''' "You got to be shitting me" Fiona Glennan, resident bomb artist, gun bunny, and leggy Irish woman, is seemingly emptying her pockets into a trash can and stepping back dusting off her hands.....and pretending to dig through her pockets, dressed in a jacket, blouse, jeans and ankle boots, and her watch. She's got a backpack on, too....which she was emptying it out, or pretending to anyhow as she reaches up and unties her hair. Stepping away from the trashcan, Fiona looks to June. The trash can's just about in the back as Fiona knows where to stand to be safe, she's shaped the charges to direct the bomb. She'd get paid for this. The last will, by design, avoid going out into the station, it'll take issue with the wall, the AED and microcamera, and....Fiona settles into a walk, watching June out the corner of her eye. Oh the bomb won't go off... Fi's set it up so she can detonate it at will. All she needs is not to be between the trashcan.....and the wall. She's earning a paycheck, after all..... 

:'''{{#var:1787|June (1787)}} has posed:'''     June returns the glance, almost as if she could feel when someone was watching her with a sort of paranoid sixth sense. It's one of those challenging stares that says 'you look away first'. For your average resident, her nose and lip ring, small gauges in the ear with a myriad of other ear piercings, dark eye shadow exudes a rough personality that intimidates. It troubles her when it doesn't intimidate, though, because she knows that if people aren't intimidated, they are more likely to be willing to fight back when push comes to shove. Call it her own focused radar for threats.     She doesn't empty anything into the trashcan herself, but instead starts making her way to the skytrain boarding platform, taking only a momentary glance to check the time on the large overhead clock. 

:'''{{#var:984|Fiona Glenanne (984)}} has posed:''' Fi joins June in heading for the platofrm too. Once she's out of range she has her hand in her pocket. The trashcan detonates sending the blast and debris toward the wall, though more so the AED and camera. Looking like she is as shocked as you'd expeect, Fiona looks back and fakes being scared. "Oh my God. Oh my God. Something just blew up!" she screams. Good way to get a crowd scared, Fi thinks as she's rooted to the spot in faux-fear. Fi's practised this reaction...and she's hoping it catches on, really. She's definitely had experience really to blow things up and run away. 

:'''{{#var:1787|June (1787)}} has posed:'''     June spins at the explosion, "Fuckin' hell!?" she exclaims, looking at the aftermath of the burning pieces of trash can and wall, the smoke scouring up the wall. Her stance is a ready one, as if prepared to fight something. "Who the fuck blows up a trashcan!?" She glances at the crowd, who indeed seem rather struck, several immediately running for their lives. "Dammit, they'll probably stop the train." This is clearly the bigger concern to her. She looks back at Fiona, having seen her empty things into the trashcan. Her mind tries to recall the recent image, exactly what it is she saw the woman throw into it. 

:'''{{#var:984|Fiona Glenanne (984)}} has posed:''' Fiona looks worried, "I don't know. I was putting trash in there" White lie, Fiona is.....sort of nudging the truth as she looks over at the remains of the can. "See" Fi says. "I've no idea" she adds with a worried look, Fi shakes her head. "Whoever blew it up as a fucking idiot" Fi seethes, playing off being scared too as she looks to June. "I just put trash in it, that's all. I needed to empty it out before getting on the train to go home" she says looking worried. "See, I'm just as worried" she says looking over and shaking her head, eyes wide. 

:'''{{#var:1787|June (1787)}} has posed:'''     June's suspicions raise. "Didn't say anything different," she comments dryly, a single arched brow examining the stranger. She didn't run like most of the other people on the platform, though. And most people wouldn't remain hanging around after an explosion like that.     Decisive? Yes, June is decisive. She's also assumptive. "Bitch, you try to blow me up?" She's decided that Fi must be to blame based on her small strands of questionable circumstantial evidence. She walks toward her, steps heavy, possibly going to attack, or possibly going to just get in her face. Hard to tell, but it's easy to tell she's rather pissed off. 

:'''{{#var:984|Fiona Glenanne (984)}} has posed:''' Fi stays put and is ready to fight, too. She has a scowl on her face and looks just as pissed off. "The hell? I didn't try to blow you up. You wer" she pauses to point. "Here! That can that blew up was over there" she points and keeps her wits about her. "So" she says and clenches her fists, "You think I tried to blow you up?" she asks. "Why the hell would I do that? I'm not some psycho bitch" she snaps, readying herself on the balls of her feet. 

:'''{{#var:1787|June (1787)}} has posed:'''     "Yeah?" June challenges. She doesn't take a swing, but she decidedly steps within Fiona's personal space. "You started defending yourself as if you expected to be accused. Why'd you think people would assume it was you?" She arches her brow. Even though she isn't that tall, she's taller than Fiona, and seems to want to accent the fact by her stance. "Didn't go runnin' like a pussy when it happened either, but you act all scared. Why's that? Had enough of you goons. You tell Karai to fuck off, and give me one reason I shouldn't throw you on that third rail right now." 

:'''{{#var:984|Fiona Glenanne (984)}} has posed:''' Fiona laughs, "Listen you fucking crazy bitch. I grew up in Ireland and amused to bombs going off. It's a lot worse if ya run away" she says, her New York accent dropping to her Irish accent. "You think I'm a fuckin' goon?" she challenges, "I'm not a fuckin' goon you dumb bitch. I had fuck all to do with that damn trash can. I just put my bits of paper in it and it blew up. I was scared so I stayed and looked. Is that a crime here huh?" she adds.....and goes full rant mode. "I don't gve a shit what you think, you god damn dumbass motherfucking piece of shit. you come at me thinking you're gonna pin this on me. Maybe it's you covering your arse huh? You're the one who bombed the station and you're so much of a pussy that you're scard and want to pin the blame on some touristy girl. Ever considered that?" Fi asks and seethes. She's ready to keep verbally sparring, too. Fi looks pissed off...very, very much so. "Now why the hell would ya pin this on me? Casuse I happened to be nearby and didn't run off? Ever heard of frozen in fear you stupid little...." she says saying the one word she's saving, the C word. yes, she just called June /that/ word. She's angry.....and switches to cussing her out in Gaelic, too. With several amusingly colorful but pointed words thrown in too. 

:'''{{#var:1787|June (1787)}} has posed:'''     June is not afraid of conflict apparently, and as Fiona throws into Gaellic, June throws a knee up toward her diaphram in an attempt to shut her up. "Lotta talk," she comments, hoping to use the sucker blow to knock the wind out of her and put her on the ground without a fair fight.     Regardless, the sounds of sirens start to echo through Gotham's streets as the police are incoming to the scene. Something that June definitely doesn't want to see given the current state of the underworld dynamic. 

:'''{{#var:984|Fiona Glenanne (984)}} has posed:''' Fi just leaps backwards as she looks amused. "You want to run away now, if you run off ahead of me I'll just remember what you look like. This can all go away with fifty bucks" she says and is amused by her own scheme. "Now you want me to point you out to the Foot? I mean that's their tatoo you got there so what's the deal with that?" she asks and gestures to it, keeping out of knee or kicking range. Instead she's got an odd way out in mind. Which is...climb up and run away. Or at least, when the time comes.limb 

:'''{{#var:1787|June (1787)}} has posed:'''     June eyes Fiona. "Fifty bucks? Fuck you," she answers. When the Foot tattoo is brought up, she freezes for a second, and eyes shift slightly, glancing down the track. "Yeah? You know about the Foot? They control this city," she comments. "Some tourist you turned out to be." Eyes shift a different direction, checking another exit. "So you wanna wait for their cops to get here?" 

:'''{{#var:984|Fiona Glenanne (984)}} has posed:''' "You'll fuck me for fifty?" Fi asks. "Sorry honey, I don't swing that way" she nods and takes a run at the wall, making ery way carefully up it and sitting atop it for a moment. "Yeah I'm a tourist. Not a damn terrorist. I know the words are similar but do keep up" she snarks, waves and puts a foot over the wall and slides her way down the other side. From it she shouts "Oh, and don't go around telling people you'll fuck them for money. That has some really bad impressions" 

:'''{{#var:1787|June (1787)}} has posed:'''     June smirks. "If I didn't hate you, I'd start to like you," she comments. She hears the sirens getting closer, and it makes her a little more curious. If Fiona was with the Foot, or hired by them, she wouldn't be concerned about the cops' arrival. She leaps over the wall, but instead of sliding the full distance, she plants her feet at ten feet from the ground, causing the speed to spin her into a classic video game flip, spinning in a tightly tucked ball until she unfolds, landing in a crouched position on the other side of Fiona, one leg out to the side for balance from the heavy impact. "Well, it's better than doing it for free," she retorts. 

:'''{{#var:984|Fiona Glenanne (984)}} has posed:''' "Still time for that" Fi calls and looks amused. "You don't hate me, we just had a rough start to this. Look, how about this? Hi. I'm Fiona" she says, sounding totally and utterly serious....all while running away. Fi's got a distrust for the law. That goes all the way back to her days in Ireland, IRA member really....as she glances to June. 

:'''{{#var:1787|June (1787)}} has posed:'''     June is somewhat chasing, somewhat avoiding the police herself. In this case, both seem to work as the same activity. "Uh," She curls a lip. "June. You know you fuckin' blew up that trash can," she adds. "You didn't even do much damage to anything, you like pyro or somethin'?" 

:'''{{#var:984|Fiona Glenanne (984)}} has posed:''' Fi shakes her head, "Oh I know June. Look, I've been making bombs for decades. So" she shrugs, "I knew exactly what I was doing back there. I was paid $1500 to blow up a trashcan" she shrugs. "I don't ask questions, and money is money" Fiona adds and laughs looking cheerful. 

:'''{{#var:1787|June (1787)}} has posed:'''     "Yeah, well," June vaults up along a wall, kicking off to leap forward and put herself in a position ahead of Fiona. "See, that's where I gotta ask more questions," she says. "Personally, I don't give a fuck about the stupid trashcan, except you almost blew my ass off." She points. "There's that. But kinda my job now to figure out who's the asshole that hires you. None'a my business, I know, but call me nosey. Unless they paid you extra to keep your mouth shut." 

:'''{{#var:984|Fiona Glenanne (984)}} has posed:''' Fiona looks amused. "Who hired me?" she asks, holding out a photo. "That guy. So, you now got your curiosity sorted" she nods. "Ah quit whining. I nearly blew your ass off, but it's stil intact. You're alive" she ssays as Fiona looks worried. 

:'''{{#var:1787|June (1787)}} has posed:'''     June looks a little surprised. That was surprisingly easy. She reaches out to take the photo. "This guy got a name?" she asks, "Cuz I hate kicking asses and not being sure why." She pauses, and looks up at an indistinct location. "Okay, that's a lie. It's great stress relief." She gives a mock frown and tilts her head to one side. 

:'''{{#var:984|Fiona Glenanne (984)}} has posed:''' "It's on the back of the photo" Fi advises and shrugs. "The best bit is I didn't get any money once the can went bang. So I got stiffed for the job and now the cops are after me. Yeah, we're both pissed for different reasons, but ya know, enemy of my enemy is my friend and all that" Fi adds and clenches her fists. "How bout we go pay Mr. Dickhead a visit?" she offers, looking amused. 

:'''{{#var:1787|June (1787)}} has posed:'''     June flips the photo. "Fuck, a crook and an asshole, my favorite." She looks at the name, flips back at the photo, then her eyes shift up to examine Fiona, as if trying to determine whether to take this at face value. "Wait, how do you know he didn't pay you?" she asks. She hadn't seen any phone checking going on, and it's only been a few minutes. 

:'''{{#var:984|Fiona Glenanne (984)}} has posed:''' "I'd get an alert on my phone if it got transferred" Fiona says. "Plus I've enough contacts to know if he does anything royally stupid" she shrugs and looks to June with a shrug. "Least I can do is knock on the door and ask, right?" Fi shrugs and looks amused, then worried. Then more amused. "If not we just go in and get the money. Or, correction. I'll get my money and you don't hate me?" she asks, sounding highly angry at not getting paid for attracing Gotham's local cops. 

:'''{{#var:1787|June (1787)}} has posed:'''     "Okay," June says, "But you do your shit, then I do mine. But you pull shit on me, I will end your ass," she warns, and hands the picture back. "So where you meet this dick?" she asks, folding her arms. 

:'''{{#var:984|Fiona Glenanne (984)}} has posed:''' "Fifth flor, fancy house. Alright, you wanna go in first or want me to?" Fi asks looking worried to June, nad looks agitated stil....and is itching to put a bullet in him, or blow up that crook's house. Because....angry Fiona's not a good Fiona....still. She shakes her head and groans. "Yeah, I may need holding back on this one" 

:'''{{#var:1787|June (1787)}} has posed:'''     "Shit, I ain't your therapist," June answers, "You wanna beat the him to death, you be my guest. Lead the way." She folds her arms across her chest, and motions for the other to lead the way. Her expression seems to betray that she really doesn't mind. One less problem for her to deal with in Gotham. 

:'''{{#var:984|Fiona Glenanne (984)}} has posed:''' Fi does, indeed, lead the way...and takes the stairs two at a time, hammering on the door on the fifth floor. She's agitated and steps back waiting on it to open. "Alright alright" she seeths breathing hard. "You want to help me out here?" Fi asks and shakes her head, "Oh he won't live" Fiona grouses and folds her arms under her breasts looking like she wants to kick the door in. It opens whel she's thinking on it. 

:'''{{#var:1787|June (1787)}} has posed:'''     June cocks an eyebrow at the decidedly emotional state of Fiona, pulling a stick of gum from one side of her pocket, unwrapping it and popping it into her mouth. The wrapper is carelessly discarded to the floor. As Fiona hammers on the door, a smoke pellet slips from her pocket into her hand. Just in case. She chews, looking disinterested as the door is opened. 

:'''{{#var:984|Fiona Glenanne (984)}} has posed:''' Fi is....less than happy to find out the apartment is empty. A split second before she yells to run. She's figured it out...and gets to running away from the apartment. Somebody figured she'd walk right in. Fi's smarter than that really....as she's in a full on sprint down the hallway. 

:'''{{#var:1787|June (1787)}} has posed:'''     It takes June a little longer to register the realization than Fiona, tilting her head with a confused expression as she sprints away. Then it hits her. "Oh fuck no," she growls, and bursts down the hallway after her. "This is gonna suck." 

:'''{{#var:984|Fiona Glenanne (984)}} has posed:''' There's a wall of flame that shoots out of the open doorway as Fiona slides to a halt. "Okay. Good. We're alive. So that turned out to be a trap. Okay, now I've nearly got you blown up twice. I'm sorry, okay....I'm sorry" Fi grimaces. "Maybe we just need to...I don't know, go home and have a drink or something?" she asks uncertainly. "That was a tripwire, no matter how careful that door was opened, it'd go and blow up and spit flame at us. It's why I told you to run, I knew when it opened on its own" Fi points out. 

:'''{{#var:1787|June (1787)}} has posed:'''     "I know what a tripwire is," June growls as she comes to a stop. "So let me get this story straight," she says, holding her hands up as if framing something between them. "A guy hires you, says he's gonna pay you $1,500 to blow up a trashcan, then blows you off, and wires the only known contact place to blow." She gives a deadpan stare. "So. Pretty straight question here. Who the fuck did you piss off so bad they want to kill you?" 

:'''{{#var:984|Fiona Glenanne (984)}} has posed:''' Fi shrugs. "Pretty much how you put it" Fiona says and looks to June then past her for a moment. "Who'd I piss off? Most of Ireland and if you know your history, you know how good they are at making bombs. I've got my enemies, June. It's not a short list really" she says and and actually cracks a smile. "So we walked into a trap. Let's see.....I think wit enough time and planning we can turn that around on that guy, ya know, lure him in, make him pay for nearly killing both of us? I mean, I sort of feel responsible for you nearly dying" she admits and holds up her hands. Fi's looking like she's got an idea. She just.....sort of.....needs a bit of help with it really. Or....getting even with a criminal. If in doubt, explore every possibility and then some. Even if it's as simple as making sure you stay the good girl at the end of it all.... 

:'''{{#var:1787|June (1787)}} has posed:'''     "Damn straight you're responsible." June agrees. "Probably shoulda left me the fuck out of your death wish. And what's this 'we' shit? I don't know you," she says. "You nearly blow me up with a trash can, then you nearly get me blown up by some rando. "Should turn you into the cops and call it a day." She's bluffing, she doesn't want to show up in front of the cops herself. 

:'''{{#var:984|Fiona Glenanne (984)}} has posed:''' Fi shakes her head. "The 'we' stuff" Fi says doing that air quote thing with her fingers, "I feel responsible. And. you agree so I'm bringing you along to find that guy and get some payback. I mean, first time, okay, that was my doing. Second time, not so much" she says and looks apologetic for nearly getting June killed.....twice. You know where we could lay low and work this out? If this was Brooklyn I'd say where to go instantly. Unfortunately I know jack about Gotham" Fiona admits, "You're from around here right, so where's a good spot to lay low and hide?" 

:'''{{#var:1787|June (1787)}} has posed:'''     "From is a relative term," June says. "Depends on who you are tryin' to hide from. I don't know who this guy is from Adam. The Foot has the whole city watched, so if he's part of them, you're kinda fucked, and you ain't gettin' my help. I mean, there's a few kinda seedy places you can shack up, but you better be ready to give somethin' for the trouble. They aren't usually interested in cash." 

:'''{{#var:984|Fiona Glenanne (984)}} has posed:''' "I got guns and explosives to get rid of" Fi shrugs and looks amused. "They can suck off a shotgun for all I care" she adds. No way is she, ahem, paying for a room with those services. Still, June's got a point, if Fi was in June's shoes....Fi would have blown up whoever was pissing her off really.....as she nods. "Well, which is least likely to need 'payment'?" she asks cynically. "Or I could just run away and hide, and go back to my boring life in the big big city" she shrugs and shakes her head again. Maybe this will....all just blow over? 

:'''{{#var:1787|June (1787)}} has posed:'''     June curls one side of her lip as she thinks. "Look, I ain't some hero to go sweep nobody off their feet or shit," she cautions. "I don't go for free either. Where I come from, information costs money. Besides, I'm broke as shit right now." She glances down the steps. "Either way, we should prolly bug out before cops show up." 

:'''{{#var:984|Fiona Glenanne (984)}} has posed:''' Fi shrugs, "Not my problem if you're broke. I got a few hundred on me to cover a ticket outta here. Stilll, I find it suspicious somebody's gone to great lengths to blow me up and drag you into that too. Okay. Okay. The trash can, I'm really fucking sorry about that!" Fi says and isn't sure June will let her forget that. "I get it. Info costs money. Where I came from it cost other things" Fiona says and looks for a moment like a stripper with clothes on. Clear hint. "So I know how info works. Now if you don't mind, can we quit bitching at each other and figure out what the hell we're gonna do?" Fiona asks, folding her arms. 

:'''{{#var:1787|June (1787)}} has posed:'''     "Well, I don't swing like that," she answers the innuendo. You don't got any way to find him, you don't got any cash to find him, and you don't wanna suck any dick to find him. I can forget about the trash can, but it don't mean I wanna stay dragged into this. When I walk away, I don't need to worry about it anymore. Sometimes that's just the best way to handle it. You see him again, you can fuck him in the ass, but now? I dunno girl, I'd just let it go and say fuck it, he wins this round." 

:'''{{#var:984|Fiona Glenanne (984)}} has posed:''' Fi shrugs. "Grew up in Ireland. Cash for information was a thing. Dick for information meant you were either a hooker, or a priest" she says with a straight face and looks annoyed. "Yeah that's turue. No way to find him. Not enough cash. But" Fiona admits. ""Rather not suck somebody off for info. You any idea how bad the aftertaste is? Fine, he wins this round. But I'm not giving up" she sighs. "So, changing subject...you're not boring. Admit it" Fi says. "You don't really hate me. I've kept you alive....mostly. You've not shot me or stabbed me...and we're talking without staring down a gun barrrel at each other. We're, in this part of the world, almost friends" she says with a sage nod. 

:'''{{#var:1787|June (1787)}} has posed:'''     "Damn," June says, shaking her head. "And people think I'm fucked up." She gestures vaguely. "Okay, so what, you wanna be besties or something?" she asks. "I dunno if 'not accidentally killing me' qualifies as keeping me alive. You got some people skills problems I think," she comments. As if June was one to talk. 

:'''{{#var:984|Fiona Glenanne (984)}} has posed:''' Fi shakes her head. "I got people skill problems? Nah. I'm not the one yelling at people right away and calling them a pussy for not running away from something going bang. Bestiess?" she asks with a snort, "Nah let's just see how it goes. I'm not gonna pinkie swear or anything like that. I think we're a bit past kindergarten honestly" she admits. "Though I do wonder how most of this city's denizens would take a juice box and a nap then a cookie?" she wonders aloud. 

:'''{{#var:1787|June (1787)}} has posed:'''     June gives another shake of her head. "Right, well, I'm a bitch, so it's fair, I'm not the best judge." She points, "I still think you're crazy as hell." She shifts the point into a thumb. "Try not to kill anybody that doesn't deserve it, then, and...I gotta do stuff, I'm way late on where I was goin'." 

:'''{{#var:984|Fiona Glenanne (984)}} has posed:''' Fi grins and looks impressed then shakes her head. "Catch ya later" she calls and starts jogging, "Bitch" she adds and speeds up her jog, hailing a cab...because reasons. Why the hell not, hail a cab. Get outta this city 
}}

8379/City Fall: Family Matters

2019-07-19T15:17:14Z

GodsKnite:

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2019/07/17
|Location=Bushwick - NYC
|Synopsis=Scott talks with the Family about their protection of mutants.
|Cast of Characters=1233,114
|Tinyplot=City Fall
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     The Bushwick Cultural Museum. A relatively new development in Bushwick, wedged in a storefront space of a two story building, so tightly packed with the rest of the street that there's no space to walk between it and its neighboring businesses. It's not unlike a house in some respects. Bushwick isn't known for having an incredibly high level of presentability.     Scott had received a text on the burner phone, they had some information for him. The Family would like to meet him at the cultural center. The museum shows the history of mutants, their discovery and the evolution of advocacy and oppression. The center was set up with a donation by Oroku Enterprises, a conglomerate that announced its support for mutants by creating a staffing agency which paid mutants for use of their powers in ways that benefitted various industries. While there was skepticism at first, so far that staffing agency has made placements in fairly normal jobs for mutants, Oroku Enterprises and LexCorp being among the most prominent of utilizers of the services.     The second floor is where he was told to meet the Family at 3:00pm. His contact will be 'hard to miss'. 

:'''{{#var:114|Scott Summers (114)}} has posed:''' Scott parks his bike a few blocks away in a public parkade. Despite the heat, he is in a leather jacket, Harley Davidson t-shirt, jeans, boots and his ubiquitous shades. He strolls the short distance to the building and looks it over before making his way up the steps two at a time. The coolness inside is a welcome reprieve from the heat. Scott arrives on the second floor on time to the minute. He begins looking at the exhibits while checking out any other people on the floor. 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     Indeed, the figure is obvious. He's about 6'8", has a rather jagged look to him, and a short blonde buzz cut, his skin tanned. small spikes stick out of his skin on his shoulders of his tank top, a few more on the backs of his hands. He's built in a way that would make most body builders jealous. "You Scott?" he asks, looking a little uncertain. The cultural center seems mostly empty at this hour, save for one or two other people on the first floor. 

:'''{{#var:114|Scott Summers (114)}} has posed:''' "Yeah, I am," Scott says when he turns to face the man. He looks way up at the man. "I got a text, was supposed to show up here? They said you'd be... obvious." 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     "That bitch," the large young man shakes his head. "Yeah, I guess I am though. Name's Rocko." He holds a hand out to shake. "So, he gives a nod of his head indicating to a door that says employees only. "Let's talk, we found some stuff out for you." He starts to walk over to the door, and opens it. The chairs inside are simple. New but probably bought at a discount from the look of the space. "You want coffee or anything?" he asks, indicating the pot that's already brewed, the red light on the base indicating that it's being kept hot. Powdered creamer and sugar packs sit near by with simple styrofoam cups. 

:'''{{#var:114|Scott Summers (114)}} has posed:''' "Scott," he says and shakes hands. Then he stuffs his hands in his pockets and follows Rocko through the door. "Sure, thanks," Scott says and contrives to look eager. He pours himself a coffee and empties a sugar packet into it. He offers to pour one for Rocko. "You found something out? That's great! What did you find out?" 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     "Nah, I'm good," Rocko says. The coffee tastes as if it's been sitting there for a while. Probably from somewhere mid morning.     "Yeah, so..." he looks as if he's not certain how to say it. "We couldn't figure out this Jean girl of yours. She didn't live in the building, but we did have an attack we found out about there." He walks over to a metal filing cabinet, and pulls out a robotic spider leg. "So, looks like these things have made a few appearances. Not sure what they want yet, but given the locations they have hit, we are triangulating the likely positions."     He tosses the metal leg onto the table. "That's a piece of one of them from the attack you mentioned. The folks in the area say someone fought them off, though, they didn't see anyone end up getting kidnapped. Nobody is missing." He looks uncomfortable with the conversation, much less like the potential imposing force that he could be at his size and appearance. "So I don't mean to be questioning you," he gives the apologetic preface, "But there's stuff in your story that we just can't get to add up. You know about the attack, we can't figure out who the girl is, and somebody also was there during the attack and was able to stop it." He gives an expectant look, as if waiting for the holes to be filled. 

:'''{{#var:114|Scott Summers (114)}} has posed:''' Scott looks disappointed and slumps a little with the coffee cup in both hands. He sighs. "Well, I didn't know she was there for sure, I just heard she was staying there. I..." he shakes his head and runs a hand through his hair. "I'll just have to keep looking. But thank you, I mean it. I could never have found out she wasn't there by myself." "That's creepy, you ever seen anything like it?" Scott asks as he looks over at the robotic leg. "I hate spiders." 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     "Hey, don't you apologize because you are trying to find her," Rocko says in a mildly stern voice. "You didn't know what to do, you came to us. Take of the shades, it's hard to see your eyes, if you got a mutation, you don't gotta worry about it in here." He flicks one of his shoulder spikes. "I'd be one to talk, right?" he gives a friendly smile. "If she's missing, we find another way to look. The Family isn't gonna leave someone behind. We got people that will find her. You have no idea." He glances down at the spider. "I hate'm too. Too many legs and eyes. Creepy bugs. So give me the real story, okay, everything you know. No leavin' stuff out, all right?" 

:'''{{#var:114|Scott Summers (114)}} has posed:''' Scott shifts in his chair. "I just don't want to waste anyone's time," Scott says apologetically. When he is asked to take off his glasses, Scott shakes his head. "I shouldn't take these off. I really wish I didn't need them, but I do, they make my mutation safe," Scott explains, sounding nervous. He is not, but he is watching the big man very carefully. "I don't know what else to say," Scott says and sits there for a bit. "I..." he sighs. "Look, I always liked her. Always. She's... smart, and gorgeous, and just has this thing about her. We've been friends for a long time, but she went this whole other life and it doesn't include me. I try to keep in touch, but... Well, I don't know what she does anymore. Last time I saw her was in a bar, but she left after all of five minutes," Scott says, truly bitter in front of this total stranger. "I just want to find her again, try to make things like they used to be when it was easy to be friends. I'm guess I'm glad she wasn't in a dump like that place... But, I guess I don't know where she's at. Maybe I should take the hint and let it go." Scott shrugs and sips the coffee, seeming to stare into the distance. "I think I loved her once. Or could have." 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     Rocko sets his jaw forward a little, and one finger taps the table quietly. "Okay," he says. He doesn't push the shades any farther, but the warm demeanor mutes a little. "So are you saying you came to us to help you track down a girl, and you don't know what she even does now? That's kinda stalker-ish, bud. You probably should have taken the hint." He doesn't look enranged, but his face reveals that he's not really pleased about what he's been told. "We don't get involved in lovers' quarrels, or unreturned affections, or none of that. We protect mutants. When you said she was in danger, we came running, but if people cry wolf like that?" He gives a direct stare of his brown eyes into those shades. "It makes it harder. Stuff like that can get more mutants in trouble if the people that help us have to do more checking on whether a complaint is legit. And trust me, you don't wanna piss off the people who help us." 

:'''{{#var:114|Scott Summers (114)}} has posed:''' Scott shrinks back a little and looks at the ground. "Sorry, I... Sorry. I'll stop, I promise," he says miserably. "I don't want any trouble. I didn't think... I wasn't even sure you were /real/. I just wanted to know she was safe from those robots." Scott looks up again. "You guys really are out here protecting mutants?" he says after clearing his throat. "That's... Noble. Somebody has to. I don't get trouble, but a lot of people do. I don't know how you do it, but thanks I guess?" he says, appeasingly. 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     The response comes accompanied by a shrug. "For a long time, nobody stuck up for us. Hate groups would come in, attack mutants. They were better organized than us. You got some people out there, like X-men, they are organized, but let's face it. They take the fight on bigger scales. They aren't gonna always be around the corner when something happens," Rocko says. "I live two blocks from here. Everybody in the Family lives around here. The staffing group started with Oroku Enterprises, and a few of us met at the job fair. Started something." He shrugs. "Got a few connections that..." he stops. "They get stuff done. Some are mutants, some ain't. You sure as hell don't wanna piss them off though. So you got a real thing, you let us know. Got some pull outsid'a the neighborhood now, too. So don't think it's limited to Bushwick no more. Way things are shaping up, we may have a tri-state watchgroup forming. Before long, be nation wide, then /nobody/ is gonna want to mess with a mutant." He looks a little smug, an edge of vindictiveness against oppression in his face. 

:'''{{#var:114|Scott Summers (114)}} has posed:''' "Wow, that's huge," Scott says sounding impressed. "Someone has to stand up for us. I feel like a bit of a dick now... I'm really sorry I wasted your time. But if I hear anyone need real help, I should send them to Rey?" 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     "Yeah, Rey is a pretty good guy to talk with," Rocko answers with a nod. "Just make sure they know to keep it for real. Even if it's out of the neighborhood. If it's in the Apple, it'll get handled by us. Even those damn Sentinels can't stop us from protecting each other." 

:'''{{#var:114|Scott Summers (114)}} has posed:''' "Sentinels? Geez, you guys must be serious. Those things are terrifying," Scott says, both eyebrows up. "I'll make anyone I send is legitimate before I send them." Scott rubs the back of his neck and smiles sheepishly. "I'm not going to catch a beating or something for this, am I?" he asks jokingly. Sort of. Maybe. 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     "We don't do the hate groups any favors," Rocko says assuringly. "Just go get some help or something. Hit Club Evolution tonight, get your mind off her." He stands up from the table. "We good?" 

:'''{{#var:114|Scott Summers (114)}} has posed:''' "Very good," Scott says and holds out a hand. "Thanks for what you do." 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     Rocko takes the hand in the giant hand of his own. He could probably break people with that pretty good. He doesn't seem to feel the need to prove himself by an extra firm handshake, though. "No problem, see ya round." 
}}

8379/City Fall: Family Matters

2019-07-19T15:16:39Z

GodsKnite: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2019/07/17 |Location=Bushwick - NYC |Synopsis=Scott talks some more with the Family about their protection of mutants. |Cast of Characters=1233,114..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2019/07/17
|Location=Bushwick - NYC
|Synopsis=Scott talks some more with the Family about their protection of mutants.
|Cast of Characters=1233,114
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     The Bushwick Cultural Museum. A relatively new development in Bushwick, wedged in a storefront space of a two story building, so tightly packed with the rest of the street that there's no space to walk between it and its neighboring businesses. It's not unlike a house in some respects. Bushwick isn't known for having an incredibly high level of presentability.     Scott had received a text on the burner phone, they had some information for him. The Family would like to meet him at the cultural center. The museum shows the history of mutants, their discovery and the evolution of advocacy and oppression. The center was set up with a donation by Oroku Enterprises, a conglomerate that announced its support for mutants by creating a staffing agency which paid mutants for use of their powers in ways that benefitted various industries. While there was skepticism at first, so far that staffing agency has made placements in fairly normal jobs for mutants, Oroku Enterprises and LexCorp being among the most prominent of utilizers of the services.     The second floor is where he was told to meet the Family at 3:00pm. His contact will be 'hard to miss'. 

:'''{{#var:114|Scott Summers (114)}} has posed:''' Scott parks his bike a few blocks away in a public parkade. Despite the heat, he is in a leather jacket, Harley Davidson t-shirt, jeans, boots and his ubiquitous shades. He strolls the short distance to the building and looks it over before making his way up the steps two at a time. The coolness inside is a welcome reprieve from the heat. Scott arrives on the second floor on time to the minute. He begins looking at the exhibits while checking out any other people on the floor. 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     Indeed, the figure is obvious. He's about 6'8", has a rather jagged look to him, and a short blonde buzz cut, his skin tanned. small spikes stick out of his skin on his shoulders of his tank top, a few more on the backs of his hands. He's built in a way that would make most body builders jealous. "You Scott?" he asks, looking a little uncertain. The cultural center seems mostly empty at this hour, save for one or two other people on the first floor. 

:'''{{#var:114|Scott Summers (114)}} has posed:''' "Yeah, I am," Scott says when he turns to face the man. He looks way up at the man. "I got a text, was supposed to show up here? They said you'd be... obvious." 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     "That bitch," the large young man shakes his head. "Yeah, I guess I am though. Name's Rocko." He holds a hand out to shake. "So, he gives a nod of his head indicating to a door that says employees only. "Let's talk, we found some stuff out for you." He starts to walk over to the door, and opens it. The chairs inside are simple. New but probably bought at a discount from the look of the space. "You want coffee or anything?" he asks, indicating the pot that's already brewed, the red light on the base indicating that it's being kept hot. Powdered creamer and sugar packs sit near by with simple styrofoam cups. 

:'''{{#var:114|Scott Summers (114)}} has posed:''' "Scott," he says and shakes hands. Then he stuffs his hands in his pockets and follows Rocko through the door. "Sure, thanks," Scott says and contrives to look eager. He pours himself a coffee and empties a sugar packet into it. He offers to pour one for Rocko. "You found something out? That's great! What did you find out?" 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     "Nah, I'm good," Rocko says. The coffee tastes as if it's been sitting there for a while. Probably from somewhere mid morning.     "Yeah, so..." he looks as if he's not certain how to say it. "We couldn't figure out this Jean girl of yours. She didn't live in the building, but we did have an attack we found out about there." He walks over to a metal filing cabinet, and pulls out a robotic spider leg. "So, looks like these things have made a few appearances. Not sure what they want yet, but given the locations they have hit, we are triangulating the likely positions."     He tosses the metal leg onto the table. "That's a piece of one of them from the attack you mentioned. The folks in the area say someone fought them off, though, they didn't see anyone end up getting kidnapped. Nobody is missing." He looks uncomfortable with the conversation, much less like the potential imposing force that he could be at his size and appearance. "So I don't mean to be questioning you," he gives the apologetic preface, "But there's stuff in your story that we just can't get to add up. You know about the attack, we can't figure out who the girl is, and somebody also was there during the attack and was able to stop it." He gives an expectant look, as if waiting for the holes to be filled. 

:'''{{#var:114|Scott Summers (114)}} has posed:''' Scott looks disappointed and slumps a little with the coffee cup in both hands. He sighs. "Well, I didn't know she was there for sure, I just heard she was staying there. I..." he shakes his head and runs a hand through his hair. "I'll just have to keep looking. But thank you, I mean it. I could never have found out she wasn't there by myself." "That's creepy, you ever seen anything like it?" Scott asks as he looks over at the robotic leg. "I hate spiders." 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     "Hey, don't you apologize because you are trying to find her," Rocko says in a mildly stern voice. "You didn't know what to do, you came to us. Take of the shades, it's hard to see your eyes, if you got a mutation, you don't gotta worry about it in here." He flicks one of his shoulder spikes. "I'd be one to talk, right?" he gives a friendly smile. "If she's missing, we find another way to look. The Family isn't gonna leave someone behind. We got people that will find her. You have no idea." He glances down at the spider. "I hate'm too. Too many legs and eyes. Creepy bugs. So give me the real story, okay, everything you know. No leavin' stuff out, all right?" 

:'''{{#var:114|Scott Summers (114)}} has posed:''' Scott shifts in his chair. "I just don't want to waste anyone's time," Scott says apologetically. When he is asked to take off his glasses, Scott shakes his head. "I shouldn't take these off. I really wish I didn't need them, but I do, they make my mutation safe," Scott explains, sounding nervous. He is not, but he is watching the big man very carefully. "I don't know what else to say," Scott says and sits there for a bit. "I..." he sighs. "Look, I always liked her. Always. She's... smart, and gorgeous, and just has this thing about her. We've been friends for a long time, but she went this whole other life and it doesn't include me. I try to keep in touch, but... Well, I don't know what she does anymore. Last time I saw her was in a bar, but she left after all of five minutes," Scott says, truly bitter in front of this total stranger. "I just want to find her again, try to make things like they used to be when it was easy to be friends. I'm guess I'm glad she wasn't in a dump like that place... But, I guess I don't know where she's at. Maybe I should take the hint and let it go." Scott shrugs and sips the coffee, seeming to stare into the distance. "I think I loved her once. Or could have." 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     Rocko sets his jaw forward a little, and one finger taps the table quietly. "Okay," he says. He doesn't push the shades any farther, but the warm demeanor mutes a little. "So are you saying you came to us to help you track down a girl, and you don't know what she even does now? That's kinda stalker-ish, bud. You probably should have taken the hint." He doesn't look enranged, but his face reveals that he's not really pleased about what he's been told. "We don't get involved in lovers' quarrels, or unreturned affections, or none of that. We protect mutants. When you said she was in danger, we came running, but if people cry wolf like that?" He gives a direct stare of his brown eyes into those shades. "It makes it harder. Stuff like that can get more mutants in trouble if the people that help us have to do more checking on whether a complaint is legit. And trust me, you don't wanna piss off the people who help us." 

:'''{{#var:114|Scott Summers (114)}} has posed:''' Scott shrinks back a little and looks at the ground. "Sorry, I... Sorry. I'll stop, I promise," he says miserably. "I don't want any trouble. I didn't think... I wasn't even sure you were /real/. I just wanted to know she was safe from those robots." Scott looks up again. "You guys really are out here protecting mutants?" he says after clearing his throat. "That's... Noble. Somebody has to. I don't get trouble, but a lot of people do. I don't know how you do it, but thanks I guess?" he says, appeasingly. 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     The response comes accompanied by a shrug. "For a long time, nobody stuck up for us. Hate groups would come in, attack mutants. They were better organized than us. You got some people out there, like X-men, they are organized, but let's face it. They take the fight on bigger scales. They aren't gonna always be around the corner when something happens," Rocko says. "I live two blocks from here. Everybody in the Family lives around here. The staffing group started with Oroku Enterprises, and a few of us met at the job fair. Started something." He shrugs. "Got a few connections that..." he stops. "They get stuff done. Some are mutants, some ain't. You sure as hell don't wanna piss them off though. So you got a real thing, you let us know. Got some pull outsid'a the neighborhood now, too. So don't think it's limited to Bushwick no more. Way things are shaping up, we may have a tri-state watchgroup forming. Before long, be nation wide, then /nobody/ is gonna want to mess with a mutant." He looks a little smug, an edge of vindictiveness against oppression in his face. 

:'''{{#var:114|Scott Summers (114)}} has posed:''' "Wow, that's huge," Scott says sounding impressed. "Someone has to stand up for us. I feel like a bit of a dick now... I'm really sorry I wasted your time. But if I hear anyone need real help, I should send them to Rey?" 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     "Yeah, Rey is a pretty good guy to talk with," Rocko answers with a nod. "Just make sure they know to keep it for real. Even if it's out of the neighborhood. If it's in the Apple, it'll get handled by us. Even those damn Sentinels can't stop us from protecting each other." 

:'''{{#var:114|Scott Summers (114)}} has posed:''' "Sentinels? Geez, you guys must be serious. Those things are terrifying," Scott says, both eyebrows up. "I'll make anyone I send is legitimate before I send them." Scott rubs the back of his neck and smiles sheepishly. "I'm not going to catch a beating or something for this, am I?" he asks jokingly. Sort of. Maybe. 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     "We don't do the hate groups any favors," Rocko says assuringly. "Just go get some help or something. Hit Club Evolution tonight, get your mind off her." He stands up from the table. "We good?" 

:'''{{#var:114|Scott Summers (114)}} has posed:''' "Very good," Scott says and holds out a hand. "Thanks for what you do." 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     Rocko takes the hand in the giant hand of his own. He could probably break people with that pretty good. He doesn't seem to feel the need to prove himself by an extra firm handshake, though. "No problem, see ya round." 
}}

8182/Sentinels: A Peek Under the Hood

2019-07-11T21:08:59Z

GodsKnite: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2019/07/05 |Location=TCRI Laboratories |Synopsis=Baxter and Lex start working on counteracting present technology Sentinels in secret. |Cast of Cha..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2019/07/05
|Location=TCRI Laboratories
|Synopsis=Baxter and Lex start working on counteracting present technology Sentinels in secret.
|Cast of Characters=1233,92
|Tinyplot=Sentinels
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     TCRI Labs. It isn't the most elaborate lab in the world. TCRI looks like a lot of other buildings. It's several stories tall, but not hardly the tallest building in NYC. It doesn't need to be. It has what it needs. Glass and stone architecture is a simple display, and it doesn't stand out significantly from a thousand other buildings of similar design across the country. Inside is where the magic lies.     The entry foyer has two winding staircases which frame the room, leading to the second level and beyond. Advertisements regarding the many breakthroughs in robotic engineering display on the verticle screens inside. The elevators in the back clearly can go to many other levels of the building. Formally part of Oroku Enterprises, it has enough of its own name that people usually know it for being TCRI more than for being part of a conglomerate. 

:'''{{#var:92|Lex Luthor (92)}} has posed:''' LexCorp Tower has some of the most elaborate facilities in the world, because Lex wants to project a sense of being top tier, even without actual technologists having any idea what's actually going on inside... but when you work with technology leagues more advanced than what most people deal with in their day to day lives (most of it is incredibly expensive... but Lex has never considered expense an obstacle to the bleeding edge), you want to be impressive. Today, Lex is being the opposite of impressive. Having secretly come in via the hyperrail system into New York and had one of his covert Limos pick him up, the warsuit assembly truck had come on it's own to the building, and arrived without fanfare in the TCRI Labs garage before the Limo itself. Once inside, Lex comes out of the back in his business suit, Mercy and Hope coming out of their respective sections to flank their boss as he heads for the front desk. 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     The middle-aged woman at the front desk looks up as Lex arrives, and she smiles warmly. "Mr. Luthor, Dr. Stockman has been expecting you, I will ring him immediately." She thumbs the comm, and then speaks into the bluetooth. "Yes, please let Doctor Stockman know that his visitor has arrived," she says. Of course everyone knows who that is. She nods, getting confirmation, and says as much as she hangs up.     Shortly Stockman arrives, a blue dress shirt, black sportscoat and a silver tie. His neatly trimmed hair and mustache in place perfectly, he steps off the elevator and briskly walks toward the front desk. With the slight smile on his face, he holds out his dark hand for a hand shake. "Lex," he says, "It's good to see you," he glances casually at Mercy and Hope, giving them an auxilliary nod, "And come with your lovely attendants as well I see." The tone is neutral, difficult to tell whether he means it in a compliment or insult, or neither. 

:'''{{#var:92|Lex Luthor (92)}} has posed:''' Mercy and Hope just give Baxter very even, very level looks. Their stances betray nothing of their inner thoughts; only a warriors stance as both are ready to string into action. Lex is silent -but with a smile- as the woman at the front desk called for Baxter, and he easily took the hand and gave a firm handshake, "Mercy Graves and Hope Taya." Lex glances at both of his bodyguards with their names respectively, "They're here as my bodyguards, nothing more." Lex looks directly to Stockman then, "I've been very interested in seeing you work outside of an emergency situation for a while. You impressed me with your insights with the device." Of course he's being vague about the portal machine that's still in the prototype stage. With the new gem focus in place, that particular bit of hardware is going through extensive revisioning as they spoke. 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     "Of course they are," Baxter acknowledges, but his tone betrays he might not fully believe the claim. Still, he continues before debate can be started on the subject.     "So yes, I hope you'll forgive my slowness to find a time for us to meet," he says. "I'm not accustomed to allowing the CEO of competitors into my labs. You understand I'm sure. There are only a few other people alive that I would trust to understand what they are looking at when they see our projects here, and you are on that list. Mr. Oroku of course assured me that you would be true to your word." Translation, Shredder pulled rank, and so he goes along with it. "Come, I'll show you what we have started." 

:'''{{#var:92|Lex Luthor (92)}} has posed:''' "I understand completely, and you seem like the sort of man who would clean out anything worth my time visually to inspect besides what we've agreed to. I have no doubt you've already done so." Lex informs Stockman. As they continue, Hope and Mercy both take stock of the employees, especially the security. If this goes south, they always prepare for the worst. 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     The security staff is armed, the guns look rather normal, but they have multiple settings. Tazer, pistol, and some lasers built into th esame device. Most of the security is built into automated defenses here, though, not visible to the naked eye. Floor tiles that can be electrically charged, turrets that can pop out of walls, and other such things.     "Of course," Baxter agrees, leading them to the elevator. He hits the button, the elevator lowering a couple of levels after scanning his eyes. He doesn't bend down to a scanner, it seems to be able to identify the location of his face without it. It's only two levels down before the sentinel work floor. After opening the door with the fingerprint scan, The workshop below is revealed with the sentinel systematically disassembled, parts stretched out and suspended with a gravity device, as if each piece is in place, but just stretched out as an exploded schematic. Only instead of it being a schematic, it's the actual robot.     "Trask didn't do a bad job, really," he says. "Their A.I. programming was done by monkeys though. Integrity-wise, it's good work." 

:'''{{#var:92|Lex Luthor (92)}} has posed:''' "Something this large shouldn't be able to stand without some serious gyroscopic work, or serious superstructural design." Lex immediately notes as they enter the lab. "Yet they seem to be taking fifty caliber rounds center mass without so much as a stumble." As they step further in, Lex's attention goes to the arms, "Can you confirm from preliminary checks that these machines are designed to neutralize and kill mutants?" Lex looks to Baxter. 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     "Well, if the mutants are stupid, yes," Baxter answers, "And since most people are rather stupid, I'd give it as a blanket yes." He walks to the central operating system.     "They have a pretty quick response and priority to the defensive measures to be taken against mutants. Everything about them says that's what they were built to fight. Just casual observation of the news would reveal they were made to fight mutants, though. I didn't need to reverse engineer them to find that. Even when they have attacked humans, it's been because they misinterpreted them to be mutants." 

:'''{{#var:92|Lex Luthor (92)}} has posed:''' "The news can be deceptive and misinforming." Lex glances to Baxter with a raised eyebrow, "being apparently biased against mutants, and actually checking their engineering to confirm how deep the design goes are two different things." Lex points out, "As it is, I'm hoping to help you build a sensor blind and a countermeasure for the nullification weapons they use." There's a moment as Lex looks at the central chest portion, "Any chance of finding weaknesses in the armor, or does it look like the main way to deal with these things is to confuse their AI?" 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     "I would most definitely focus on confusing their A.I. The integrity of their armor is their stronger asset. And why would you blow up something you can simply shut down or confuse into inactivity?" He indicates the size. "These things are massive. The collateral damage caused in each fight has been rather expensive. Buses, buildings, damage to roadways, electrical grids, if we can shut them down simply by pressing a button or giving them a straw man, all the better."     "Of course," Baxter adds, "Groups who have a chip on their shoulder such as the X-men, or Genosha, they seem to be all too happy to make their situation worse by escalation. It only feeds the anti-mutant sentiment. It doesn't matter who shot first, in the end of the day, if mutants are present in the fight," he shrugs, indicating the answer is obvious. 

:'''{{#var:92|Lex Luthor (92)}} has posed:''' "Because someone might one day change their programming, and if that day comes, I'd like to know all their weaknesses, including the physical." Lex informs Baxter. "How much force is needed, weakpoints, where they get their orders... I want the whole thing, not just how to confuse their AI." He steps up to one of the gravity lifts, working through the controls to get an understanding on how to operate it. Once he does, he heads up to the chest area. "Can't say I agree with your assessment. If it doesn't matter who fired first, what's the difference if you escalate? Public relations only works if you have the credibility to control the narrative. It's understandable they'd be more interested in securing their own safety over non-violence." 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     "Someone already did change their programming," Baxter answers. "They've had a few rogue sentinels already turn up under someone else's control. I suppose you could say that these are as well, but I'm more prudent than to cause mayhem in the streets."     "You hate aliens, other people hate mutants. And the narrative at present is a fear of mutants. Of course it's reasonable for them to defend themselves. Doesn't mean people won't be more afraid when all is said and done. Most people are rather stupid, after all."     He watches as Lex familiarizes himself with the controls, but makes no effort to assist, knowing Lex is saavy enough he can certainly figure them out. 

:'''{{#var:92|Lex Luthor (92)}} has posed:''' "The incident did have a ring of truth to it, but I'm glad to get confirmation. We should stick to software masks for specific bits of hardware, then, not try to get fancy and reprogram them. The KISS principle applies here." Lex concludes as he grabs a set of nearby tools and begins to work on analysing the chest area, taking it apart a bit more to get to the internal components. A few moments later, and he's examining the armor itself from the inside visually. "Have you made any progress with the software mask, or do we need to get started on that?" 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     "Rewriting the operational software isn't that difficult. All that we had to do was to remove the current A.I. and rewrite the protocols for decisions, maintaining the ability to respond to powers of course. The biggest problem is that in their initial state they are nearly useless against human targets. Fortunately," Baxter raises his hand, walking to a terminal, "They have biological scanners built in. What is easy to do is to reconfigure those scanners so that they will simply scan for registered friendly targets." He smiles slightly. "I'm pretty certain I can make some improvements to the reaction times as well. Like I said, Trask's software wasn't the best part of the design. But I'm sure other people can do this as well, so now that these things are more commonly found on the streets." He shakes his head. "We will likely find a lot of rogue copies before long." 

:'''{{#var:92|Lex Luthor (92)}} has posed:''' "I would hope they have bio-scanners intergrated." Lex quips, "or they couldn't avoid biological friendlies." *Scrit Scrit* A section of armor is removed, and Lex brings the lift down, heading over to the molecular analyser, "Is your partner making reprogramming a priority for you?" 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     Baxter cocks one eyebrow as he glances up from the panel. "He knows enough to let me make my own decisions," he says, a certain air about the comment, one of mild indignation at the concept that someone else tells him what to do. 

:'''{{#var:92|Lex Luthor (92)}} has posed:''' Lex, being the master of body language he is, easily picks up on it. A useful bit of information for later. "Glad to hear it." A bit of mild ego stroking there. Lex is not above manipulation, even as he starts to check the armor lattice for it's structure. "The software portion of it should be easy enough then. Just need to find the weakpoints to exploit. When I used plasma weapons on these things, they took the hits well." He turns to Baxter to regard the man, "I'll work on the structure, you work on the software patching?" Mercy and Hope, meanwhile, are examining the Sentinel from the feet up, running their hands over the machine and it's parts, getting a feel for them. 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     "Sure," Baxter acknowledges. "We can trade afterward, see what we can put together. I'm willing to be that between the two of us, we can make a better mousetrap than Trask did. And trap more than mice with it." He goes back to clicking on the terminal. 
}}

8232/City Fall: Fleeing the Scene

2019-07-09T17:56:19Z

GodsKnite: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2019/06/21 |Location=Punisher's Battle Van |Synopsis=Punisher drops off a college kid who he evacuated from the scene of the attack on his safehous..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2019/06/21
|Location=Punisher's Battle Van
|Synopsis=Punisher drops off a college kid who he evacuated from the scene of the attack on his safehouse.
|Cast of Characters=1140,1233
|Tinyplot=City Fall
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:1140|Punisher (1140)}} has posed:''' In the moments Punisher left the van, Microchip had closed the door to the girl in the back, instead monitoring her through the corner camera hidden somewhere in the 'roof' of the back. The girl would be alone... but not unwatched. The sounds of gunfire can be heard distantly for them both as David drove the Battle Van around to the exit as Punisher had instructed... and a scant ten seconds later the back of the Van opened again, with a wounded and weary Punisher practically diving inside, before Microchip started to drive again, the doors auto closing without assistance. "Micro, do you have any idea what just happened? That didn't have any sort of obvious drilling involved." Punisher questions wearily as he sits up, his M4A1 being used to help him up, before it idles against his chest. "I don't know Frank. We'll need to check the police report when it pops up in the database." Meanwhile, the Battle Van is driving... and Punisher looks to the girl, "you'll be fine in a few blocks, miss." Punisher stands in front of her, the carbine being put to the side for now, with the armory locked up. 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     The young brunette in the car has seen better days. She's not shot or injured, but there is a look of complete terror in her face. She's covered in the dust and coughs due to the asbestos that was invariably in the building's construction that was turned into a gagging cloud with the collapse. She wears a simple NYU T-shirt and running shorts, and scampers back against the wall of the van as the Punisher enters, after he announces she will be fine in a few blocks, she looks guarded, but relaxes a little. "What is happening? What was all that? Are you shot!?" She spots the bulletholes in his midsection. 

:'''{{#var:1140|Punisher (1140)}} has posed:''' As if on cue, the Punisher starts to pick the spent rounds on his vest off of it... and he places them next to the rifle. "You just got caught in the middle of an ambush. There's a large group of terrorists trying to kill me." Punisher smiles, "that was their latest attempt." "We're about to get into the garage complex, Frank. She can get out in there." Microchip announces over the speaker. 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     "And you were wearing body armor?" she says, "Who runs around in body armor?" She looks around at the van. "This is like... the batmobile or something. Wait, you're going to make me get out? What if you're followed, they'll think I'm with you!" She shakes her head. "I don't want to be killed, I was just out running!" 

:'''{{#var:1140|Punisher (1140)}} has posed:''' "They're not idiots, and neither are we." Punisher explains casually as he moves to sit down on the bolted down computer chair next to the desktop station, "keep your head down, and you'll be fine." He reaches out and takes one of his cleaning rags, and hands it to her, along with a bottle of water, "Just clean yourself up a bit, and they'll never know the difference." 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     The young woman opens the bottle, and takes a drink, before realizing the purpose for which it was given. She catches herself as the van makes a turn, planting her hand against the side of one of the consoles. She wets the rag, and starts to wipe the dust from her face and her legs, turning to face Frank as she does. She has good legs, too. 

:'''{{#var:1140|Punisher (1140)}} has posed:''' Unfortunately for Frank, his life means making connections with the average person is just asking for them to be put at risk. Still, he can appreciate a sexy woman, and he gives her a nod as they start up the garage ramp. "You can call me the Punisher. What's your name?" Punisher asks as he continues to remove ammo from his vest. The ninjas threw more than a few things at him, and there are holes in his trenchcoat where the bullets went through. 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     "The Punisher?" She asks, "Like, THE Punisher? The terrorist?" She looks a little uneasy. "I wouldn't expect a terrorist to save me," she confesses. "This is really confusing. I'm Betty. Betty Sanders," she says. She tilts her head back, cleaning her neck, and attempting to clean her shirt. That doesn't go as well, removing some of the dust and smearing the rest. 

:'''{{#var:1140|Punisher (1140)}} has posed:''' "A lot of people don't understand me. I'm only a terror to those who deserve it, little girl." Punisher notes, "Those who make life worse, or ruin the lives of others. People who destroy everything around them like a cancer. Sadists, psychopaths." This time an arrow is grabbed, and snapped in half. It didn't go through the vest completely, so it's safe to pull the arrowhead out, and it clatters on the table in the bin where all the rest of the ammo is going. "I wage war so the people on the street can breathe easier." Punisher continues as the Battle Van slowly moves into a parking space. "You should be safe here." 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''      Betty continues to sit on the floor of the van. "That sounds lonely," she comments. "I mean, it'd be really dangerous, does your family know you do this? I think my dad would have me committed if I tried to do something like that." She doesn't look like a particularly hard person, though. 

:'''{{#var:1140|Punisher (1140)}} has posed:''' "Why so curious about the 'terrorist'? I thought you'd want to go home as soon as you could and report this to the police." Punisher presses. 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     There's a slight blush. "Sorry, I guess just built in," she admits. "Journalism major. I want to be like Anderson Cooper, and go report on the big stories in the world. I hear a story like what you're telling me and..." she gives a shrug and a slight smile. "I guess I just can't help myself. A little crazy I guess. I think my folks hope I'll settle for a regular anchor position somewhere in a farm town." She stands to her feet, "Besides, I figure if you wanted to murder me, I'd probably be dead already." She turns around, "How does my back look?" she asks. The answer of course is obvious, it's covered in dust from the collapse. 

:'''{{#var:1140|Punisher (1140)}} has posed:''' "Still a lot of dust." Punisher notes offhandedly, "most of the news outlets sensationalize or draw the wrong conclusions on what I do. There's a reason people call it the lamestream media." Punisher points out. "Can't really trust what they say, and if they can't find a story, they lie about it." He shrugs, "after years of that bullshit, I've pretty much given up on ever having the real story behind my fights publically known." 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     "Could you help?" she asks, passing the rag behind her and lifting her dark hair. "I think that's terrible. I have a cousin in Australia," she says, "He was a good guy, but he had a girlfriend that made him out to be this big monster. Went to all thew news stations in their town. He ended up arrested and put in prison. Turned out she just wanted to take his house and money..." she gives a pause. "Destroyed his life. Part of why I want to go into investigative reporting. I want people to hear the true story. When I report, I want people to know that it's not hype." 

:'''{{#var:1140|Punisher (1140)}} has posed:''' "You're going to fight an uphill battle in every sense of the word if you try to break into the mainstream with that attitude. Your best bet would be the independent groups." Punisher finishes picking stuff from his vest, finally, and he stands. Without the trenchcoat bunched up around his chest, Betty can easily see the gear web underneath it, and the white skull on the vest. It looks like something out of an action movie. The rag is taken, and he efficently wipes her down. His movements are fluid, but precise. He's done this sort of thing before. "People who look for the real story are treasures that tend to be ruined. I hope for your sake you can handle the fire." 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     After being wiped down, the young woman turns around, standing rather close, within the personal space distance. Could be argued that she's that close because they are in a close quarters van. "I think I can," she answers while meeting Punisher's eyes. All the confidence of a college student who is certain she can conquer the world.     "So? she asks. "You going to tell me?" she asks. 

:'''{{#var:1140|Punisher (1140)}} has posed:''' "Tell you what?" Punisher frowns slightly at her, his body shifting slightly as he moves backwards, and begins to open the back doors. 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     "The story." comes Betty's simple response. She doesn't move. Contrarily she has both feet rather solidly planted. 

:'''{{#var:1140|Punisher (1140)}} has posed:''' "And what story is that?" Punisher asks, watching her. He takes a look out into the garage parking floor, checking for anyone besides them. 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     "Come on," Betty says, "You said you aren't dumb. You go around, you shoot up bad guys, create huge messes that get you branded as a criminal. The whole world thinks you're the bad guy." She shakes her head. "Nobody just decides to do that. I may be twenty-two years old, but I'm not an idiot. You only do something like that if something drove you to it." She still doesn't move from her spot. 

:'''{{#var:1140|Punisher (1140)}} has posed:''' There's a moment as Punisher studies her. Then... "Look up the Central Park Massacre, May 17." Punisher informs her. "If you're as good as you say you are, you'll figure it out quickly enough." Is this a test of her skills? Maybe. "Who knows, maybe you'll figure out the rest from there." 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     Brown eyes study back, shifting to focus on one steel blue eye and then the other. After several seconds, she responds. "And the story today?" she asks. "Or maybe I should ask, what's the story going to be tomorrow? We both know the news is going to paint you as guilty. I can help. I don't just go to classes. I work for the Washington Square, NYU's publication. I have an internship at Channel Six." 

:'''{{#var:1140|Punisher (1140)}} has posed:''' "Maybe later, kid. If you're that gung ho on going against the grain, I'm willin' to see where it can go." Punisher leans forward and takes a notepad, writing something on it... then, he hands it to her. "A PO box you can use to contact me. Put messages inside, and I'll get them eventually." He gestures with his head out, "Now get. I have some work to do." 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     Betty reaches out to take the note, studying it as if committing it to memory in case she loses it. She folds it and puts it into her bra on the left side. "PO Box? How will you get ahold of me?" she asks. "I'm the one who needs the story." She puts one hand on her hip, that youthful rebellious spirit challenging him. She knows he isn't going to hurt her. "Come on, you gotta give me /something/." 

:'''{{#var:1140|Punisher (1140)}} has posed:''' "I know who you are, and where you work. Part of our work is finding people on less. I'll get ahold of you later." Punisher offers. 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     "My own personal stalker," Betty quips. She reaches out to snatch the pen out of Punisher's hand dexterously with two fingers, and then reaches across her to take the notepad, maintaining eye contact as she writes down her phone number and e-mail using her peripheral vision. She's left-handed. She hands back the pad and pen directly.     "Hell of a first date, Punisher," she offers in a mildly teasing tone. "Try not to get yourself killed, okay?" she says. She drops the posing a little, and repeats more sincerely. "Okay?" 

:'''{{#var:1140|Punisher (1140)}} has posed:''' "That's always the plan." When the pen is snatched, he doesn't go into any sort of defensive posture. Instead, he looks on with a raised brow... before he gestures outside once again. "Good luck with getting home." 
}}

8191/Panic at the Disco

2019-07-06T06:32:48Z

GodsKnite: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2019/07/06 |Location=Harlem Paradise - Club in NYC |Synopsis=Elektra interrupts June's sting operation. After some discussion, she offers to help...."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2019/07/06
|Location=Harlem Paradise - Club in NYC
|Synopsis=Elektra interrupts June's sting operation. After some discussion, she offers to help.
|Cast of Characters=1787,721
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:1787|June (1787)}} has posed:'''     Harlem's Paradise. Upscale, but exciting. Loud music blares, lights flash over the gyrating bodies. Drugs are inevitable here, but in theory there aren't any.     What definitely is here is Antonio Melisandre. Known imbiber of something worse than drugs. He likes to purchase young girls for his pleasure. Word is that he's supposed to be present tonight. He's not on the dance floor though, not with his money. Odds are that he has one of the back rooms. 

:'''{{#var:721|Elektra (721)}} has posed:''' There's no particualr rhyme or reason Elektra is here, unless you count being bored. That and the Foot clan had been known to recruit from places like this. As well as deal. She'd dressed for the occassion. Little red clubbing dress, scarff about her neck. Bright lipstick. Sparse jewelry. She looked a part while she sipped a drink, sitting in a booth, looking out over the dance floor. Nothing suspect yet, but sooner or later something would happen. She could bide her time till then. 

:'''{{#var:1787|June (1787)}} has posed:'''     Walking up the steps is a mildly familiar face. June's hair is different. Again. Her hair is cropped into a boy cut. It make her look even younger than she is, but then that's the idea. Tonight she's a platinum blonde, and she doesn't have the earings. Her black skirt is far too short, but then that doesn't stand out in this arena. Her top is what appears to be a t-shirt that is too short, hanging only down to the base of her ribs. She doesn't seem to have spotted Elektra, and walks past in knee high boots, making her way across the balcony toward one of the rooms with a man that looks to be older, perhaps in his early sixties. He isn't thin, but not quite fat either, a few extra pounds under his white club shirt and matching sportscoat. June laughs with him, looking like she's genuinely having a good time. On the arm of Antonio Melisandre. Metaphorically at least. In reality he has a hand on her rear. 

:'''{{#var:721|Elektra (721)}} has posed:''' Oh my. Things just got.. well, they were already promising to be interesting. Now they were more interesting. She calculates the odds that June *wants* to be there and comes up with two scenarios. The first rather more disappointing than the second, but both requiring her to bide a little more time. She can, however start scoping out the paths she will need to interfere or intercept, and casually rids herself of her table. No hurries yet, just a meander towards those stairs, making it ever so casual. 

:'''{{#var:1787|June (1787)}} has posed:'''     "I can't believe it! That's amazing!" June says in the voice of a giddy schoolgirl. Not the voice that was heard on the street of a cynical foul-mouthed snot. She tilts to one side, bumping against Antonio. "Wow, I think I'm a little drunk," she observes with a smile.     "Well, maybe we should go grab one of the back rooms so you can sit down," Antonio suggests, guiding her along. June seems to remain rather oblivious to Elektra, her attention on Antonio as he leads her to one of the rooms, opening the door. "You know, having money has its perks," he comments to her as he guides her inside. 

:'''{{#var:721|Elektra (721)}} has posed:''' Oh, yes, money does have it's advantages. And while she's not bought herself a back room, Elektra does still rather reek of the attitude that goes with any amount of money. Or at least she's employing it as she engages the stairs and heads up. It's been her experience that people don't stop you if you act like you belong where you are. But why does that little ninny thing she's doing anyway? 

:'''{{#var:1787|June (1787)}} has posed:'''     June steps in, and Antonio gives her a quick butt squeeze before following. He has a self-assured smile on his face as he steps in, and turns around to close the door behind them. 

:'''{{#var:721|Elektra (721)}} has posed:''' Elektra makes her way upstairs, and, because she is just the sort of pain in the ass that she is, and expects that whatever it is June thinks she's accomplishing, it's not going to go as smoothly as all that, her next point of action is to invite herself into the room. Only with a lot less knocking than most people would use. None, in fact. 

:'''{{#var:1787|June (1787)}} has posed:'''     They really should have locked the door. That's probably Antonio's thought as the door is opened. Nobody is necessarily undressed, not at this point. June is on her back on the couch, the older man over her, caressing her face when he turns around, and June simultaneously turns to look at the intrusion. It takes a moment, but a look of recognition crosses her face. That look of recognition is replaced by a wincing narrowing of her eyes that seems to say 'what are you doing here?'     "Hey, this room is taken," Antonio says, as if it were all an accident. He has a look that seems to indicate he expects her to apologize or at least excuse herself for the intrusion. 

:'''{{#var:721|Elektra (721)}} has posed:''' "My bad," Elektra drawls casually. "Though, since I'm here, why not make things more interesting. A little two on one action?" Oh, yeah, he's meant to think the very obvious, and very wrong, that she's inviting herself to a rather more carnal threesome than she means. But then again, that's his problem, isn't it? 

:'''{{#var:1787|June (1787)}} has posed:'''     The comment elicits a rather puzzled look from both june and Antonio, for different reasons most likely. Antonio knows better than to think this is a real offer. "Uh," he gives a slight laugh. "I think we're good here, right Britney?" June nods. "Yeah..." she says slowly, trying to figure out what Elektra' trying to pull. 

:'''{{#var:721|Elektra (721)}} has posed:''' "How very disappointing," Elektra pouts. "Brittney looks like a charming young thing. Perfectly ripe for the picking, wouldn't you say? Of maybe you'd rather try something your own size? After all, a big, strong, sleaze of a man like you, picking on little girls. Afraid, Antonio? That is your name, isn't it?" She knows it is, but she's hoping to disarm him further. She's expecting a fight. That she's prepared for. "Let the little girl go. We'll talk." 

:'''{{#var:1787|June (1787)}} has posed:'''     Antonio sits back up on the couch. "Okay, so you know my name, but she's here on her own accord. Maybe you could find another guy who's lonely tonight." He gives a dismissive shooing motion with his hand.     June, for her part, just lays there, looking like she isn't sure what to do with the situation in front of her. An act? Or genuine? Hard to say. 

:'''{{#var:721|Elektra (721)}} has posed:''' "I'll watch then," Elektra says simply. "Unless you think you can make me leave." His shooing gesture is ignored with much amusement. Better men - and women - had tried that before with less success. 

:'''{{#var:1787|June (1787)}} has posed:'''     "Maybe I should go," June says, realizing that Antonio is at an impass with Elektra. She sits back up, and starts to stand to her feet. Antonio catches her by the wrist, and pulls her back down to the couch.     "No, I'll handle this," he says. "Look, lady, I dunno what you want? But I don't know you. Don't want to know you." He gets to his feet. "And certainly don't want you infringing on an intimate moment between myself and this wonderful young woman." He walks over, and reaches out to put his hand on Elektra's shoulder 

:'''{{#var:721|Elektra (721)}} has posed:''' Reaches out to. Doesn't make contact. That is, he tries, and she blocks him. Emphatically. "Let's try this again. You're a low life lying piece of sewer scum. And you're not doing business here tonight. Do we understand one another?" "The girl comes with me. Or shall I break that arm to make my point." Words calm. Quiet. Collected. And said with the aura of one who has no doubt she can deliver upon the threat. 

:'''{{#var:1787|June (1787)}} has posed:'''     Antonio frowns. "Now look here, bitch-" he says, only to be interrupted by June sliding between the two of them.     "Whoa whoa," she says, holdig her hands up over her head as if in surrender. "Let's scale it back. Um, Mr. Melisandra," she says, maintaining her girlish voice. "This is my Aunt Freda," she gives a look back at Elektra, her face face turned where Antonio can't see for the moment, she gives a rather angry scowl at her before turning back as if it never was. "I better go," she says. "Bet my mom sent her after me."     There is a certain whiteness that comes over his face, as if he's afraid of what that entails. How old is June actually? Or how old did she say she is. It'd be believable that she is a young high school girl if someone claimed it. 

:'''{{#var:721|Elektra (721)}} has posed:''' "Now, see, was that so difficult?" Elektra smiles sweetly at the man, and fires off a spate of Greek at the girl that amounts to, 'Your mother is going to hear about this, but first you and I are going to talk'. No, she doesn't expect June to understand it, but he might. Before she leaves, though, Elektra leans in to whisper against the man's cheek, "Touch another child and I will kill you. Slowly and painfully. You'll be begging before I'm through." 

:'''{{#var:1787|June (1787)}} has posed:'''     Antonio doesn't answer, but June doesn't wait for a full conversation regardless. She is walking toward the stairs already, heading down them in a rather decisive pace. Clearly she's not happy about what just happened. The high heel boots clap on the stairs as she makes her way away from the scene, not interested in slowing for Elektra to keep up with her. 

:'''{{#var:721|Elektra (721)}} has posed:''' Elektra follows out after the girl, close on her heels, letting June lead the way. Expecting that she may well have to 'encourage' her to leave the establishment. Either way, she and June are going to have a talk - a talk that likely should have happened sooner than this. When they've exited the building and are far enough away, the woman murmurs, "I don't know what you think you were doing, but you play dangerous games, little girl. You aren't as clever as you think. If you want him, we can take him, but not like that. He'll want you even more now after that little taste, and knowing you're forbidden fruit." 

:'''{{#var:1787|June (1787)}} has posed:'''     June doesn't actually need any encouraging. Her reason for being there has been spent. "Okay Auntie Freda," she says with a scowl, turning around as she leaves. "I wasn't after him. I'm after the guy who supplies the girls. He's ordered them for some big events in the past, just don't know who it is that's sellin' yet. Why the hell should you care?" She looks livid, a wrinkle forming under her bottom lip in a scowl. "You think you're some knight in shining armor or something? Come and rescue me from the big bad pedophile?" 

:'''{{#var:721|Elektra (721)}} has posed:''' "No, I think you have no clue who or what you're playing with. You like to think you're clever, but you aren't. This is twice now. As to why? Because I was you. Only moreso." She gives the barest of chin nods to June. "How old are you? 18? 17 maybe. No more than 20 I'd say. How long have you been at that? Given Saki and his training techniques, maybe 13. So, 5 years. 7 tops. do you honestly think that you've learned all that there is to learn in that time? Those men have been doing this longer than you, and you're going in without backup to situations where, unless you've learned to hide that little tattoo of yours, words will make it back to his ears what you are doing, and the next little trap you spring will be your own." 

:'''{{#var:1787|June (1787)}} has posed:'''     "23." It's a lie, but she'd fool a polygraph with it. June shakes her head. "Like to think I'm clever? I'm doin' what I know how to do. If I was clever I'd be in way less shit than I am. Not that it's any of your fucking business. Been around assholes like that one since I was 14." Implication clear of what 'being around them' means. "And before you go on your 'poor child' routine, nobody kidnapped me, nobody sweet talked me off the street. Was my own stupid choice. And I hate the Fuckin' Foot," she says, lowering her voice from the moderate yell. "But they were the ones who got me out." She shakes her head. "It ain't always as simple as people like. It's real fuckin' complicated. Okay?" She looks up at the sky. Can't see stars though, not in this city. She puts her hands on her hips, pacing. 

:'''{{#var:721|Elektra (721)}} has posed:''' "You lie well, but you aren't." Elektra isn't Matt, but she can sense things well enough. With some training, she could likely learn to lie detect like he does. However, she doens't need that to know the girl is lying regardless of what a polygraph would say. "You're going to get yourself killed.. Brittney. Though we both know that isn't your name." She gives a soft chuckle at the protests. "Oh, my dear. You believe that, because he's that good at what he does. I was you, remember? Only my training started when I was 6. Not in earnest then, but enough. It caught the eyes of those who were looking for me. By nine, it was in earnest. My life became the training. And I believed every single bit as much as you that it was my choice. And to make it so, they murdered my father." "There's little someone with vengeance on their mind won't do. You want the Foot vanquished, then you need to go about it smarter than you are now. Not piecemeal. Not alone. Not rushing in brashly announcing yourself the way you do. Do you think Saki has no clue how to find you? My dear, I am willing to bet that he could have your whereabouts in less than 48 hours if he truly wanted you. No. My guess? He has plans and he's waiting for the opportune moment." A shrug. "For all I know, you're doing the culling he'd have to convince someone else to do, for him. Without even drawing attention to him. As me how I know? BEcause I was him. You see, I've been both sides of that coin, little girl, so how be we stop lying to one another, drop the chip off of your shoulder, and we actually talk about what is and is not possible here." 

:'''{{#var:1787|June (1787)}} has posed:'''     "Fuck, there's thousands of Foot," June says, "You think they are broken up about me? This life, nobdy makes it to retirement. Somewhere down the line, we all run into somethin' we can't handle."     She seems to freeze for a moment when Elektra mentions her father. "I'm sorry about your old man," she says, her tone a little more sympathetic. "That sucks." There's clearly a nerve there. "I get you wanna be helpful," she says. "You don't want me to get dead, though, I'll be damned if I can figure out why you should really care. I ain't you. I wasn't no million dollar baby. Just a girl who got the ass end of life, and spent too much time getting shit on to know the difference." She lets out a sigh. "I'm not after the Foot. You don't fight the Foot. And really, maybe they are still doin' what's gotta be done. Crime is down in the city." She glances at an indeterminate distant point through a building. 

:'''{{#var:721|Elektra (721)}} has posed:''' "Oh, but we both know he is, don't we little girl." Making it clear by her intonation that once she has a name, that will stop. "He wants you because you wear that mark. You wear it because you gave your word. By leaving, you took away part of the power of his words. He doesn't care about you - he cares about that. Power. Only he put that in a pretty little package and called it family and honour." She shakes her head as June spits out about not being a million dollar baby. "Do you think that's what I'm talking about? Money? That is why you will fail, little girl. You fail to see that we are the same. Money is not part of this equation. It never was. Other than, as you say, you had no choice. What choices, truly, did you have, when he held out his hand and offered those things to you? None. You say you chose, but if you'd been offered my money or that life, at the same time, which would your hand have reached for?" She doesn't wait for an answer. "The Foot is the crime in this city. Like the Hand was under my rule. Let us not pretend here. Crime under rule is still crime. Admittedly, I believed it was better to know how and were those things were meted out - until it was me setting the bounds on it. And I discovered that as much as I believed I was in control, I wasn't." A small laugh for the matter of crime down in the city. "The Hand left when I betrayed them, little girl. Their business here, alone, accounts for the drop in crime. All Saki did was step into that vacuum." 

:'''{{#var:1787|June (1787)}} has posed:'''     There's a wry smile, as if something sounds familiar to June. "Yeah, people with money always say that. My mom said that. Bitch can drown in it for all I care. But you wanna sit here and debate politics?" she says. "I ain't a politician. My girls and I, we take care of shit because it takes people like us to do what those assholes in City Hall will never do. Justice." She gives a decided nod. 

:'''{{#var:721|Elektra (721)}} has posed:''' Well, that was interesting. So the girl had money in her past by the sounds of it. Or close enough. Maybe not her but.. "No. This isn't politics. At least not city hall. But the streets are politics. You say you offer justice? Saki runs a higly organized business, little girl. You and your singular strikes are not going to bring him down. Nor will your friends. I presume you mean the the one from the alleyway?" It didn't matter. "He's been doing this longer than you've been alive. It doesn't matter what you call it, but you need more than what you have to bring the Foot down." 

:'''{{#var:1787|June (1787)}} has posed:'''     June shakes her head before answering. "Not gonna try to take him down," she says with a splaying of her hands. "I'm gonna try to take down the shit who's trafficking girls to the slimeballs like Melisandra. And I'm gonna find out who that guy is and take him out, and I'll hang their dicks on my door when I'm done." 

:'''{{#var:721|Elektra (721)}} has posed:''' Oh, now, /that/ has Elektra's attention. "Oh, my very dear, why didn't you say so. I'm sure we could find some appropriate leather tanning techniques for you.. but first, how would you feel about something of a partnership in this matter?" 

:'''{{#var:1787|June (1787)}} has posed:'''     June gives a skeptical look at Elektra. "You want to help me?" she asks. "Maybe. But you gotta know, I'm not after limp dick Antonio. And really, I ain't after the guy selling to him. I'm after whoever's at the top." She arches one platinum dyed brow. "Cuz one thing's for sure, there ain't no honor among thieves. You make a power vacuum, you disrupt business, and you might get a few of them to off each other before the dust settles. Wash, rinse, repeat." Perhaps she has a little more forward thinking than she lets on. 

:'''{{#var:721|Elektra (721)}} has posed:''' Elektra's lips curl over a smile that could chill a lake. "I want them all dead. Not the street sweepers. Not the dock workers who look the other way. But every last one of them who sits back and profits off of those containers of children being sold into the unthinkable. I want them dead in such a fashion that everyone left behind fears for generations of their ancestors expecting retribution for what they've been part of." 
}}

8192/City Fall: All in the Family

2019-07-06T05:56:23Z

GodsKnite: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2019/07/06 |Location=Rey's Smoke Shop - Bushwick - NYC |Synopsis=Scott tries to find out some more about "The Family" that is watching over Mutant..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2019/07/06
|Location=Rey's Smoke Shop - Bushwick - NYC
|Synopsis=Scott tries to find out some more about "The Family" that is watching over Mutant Town.
|Cast of Characters=1233,114
|Tinyplot=City Fall
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     Bushwick has been plagued with crime historically. Some of it has been through the attacks from FoH members, some of it has been through the nature of being a rough part of town to begin with. Bushwick sees the poor and the desperate, and since it became known as Mutant Town, the tensions rose.     But about 5 months ago, things started to change. Job fairs from Oroku Enterprises came in through job fairs when the businessman started offering jobs to mutants who could use their powers to enhance various workplaces. It was received with skepticism by some, suspicion, but over time, it seems to have become the norm. But that isn't what caused the drop in crime. FoH members started disappearing, signs that read 'We're Family' with Eyes on them watching became the norm. Fast forward to today. Not even the Sentinels set foot in Mutant Town, save for the rogue ones that Sebastion sent a little while back. No hate groups, no pickets against mutants. Nobody messes with this neighborhood. It's still poor, but something has definitely changed around here.     Rey's Smoke Shop is a small place, but one that has been said to be the best place for someone to get in touch with the Family. Rey works the small run down shop, barred windows and a barred gate over the glass front door. It's never particularly busy here, except when kids are being run off for trying to purchase cigarettes or vaping devices. The middle aged man is rather dirty looking who works it. His T-shirt is stained, but he's a hard working man, and has managed the shop for the last fifteen years. It's getting close to closing time this evening, the street lights just now flickering on in the dusk light. 

:'''{{#var:114|Scott Summers (114)}} has posed:''' Scott hops off the subway not far from the smoke shop. He is in jeans, black boots, a Harley Davidson t-shirt and a leather shirt. He wears his glasses of course. Scott strides down the street with his hands in his pockets. When he sees the smoke shop up ahead he pauses to catch quick glance around. Then he walks up to the store and lets himself in. Scott nods to Rey when we walks in. If there is anybody else there, he looks around until they leave. Once it is just the two of them he goes up to the counter. "Hey, pack of griffons," he says, buying a pack of Logan's favourites. It bothers him that he knows the brand. And that he really will give them to Logan. 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     Across the street are a couple of teenagers that seem to be doing nothing important other than jabbing at each other in a fake fight. Two boys, one is black, the other white.     As Scott walks in, Rey is sitting with his glasses on, the thin faced man is balding, but he is probably not older than his mid thirties. He's reading over the old paper receipt which keeps track of the transactions for the day, and he sits with a calculator next to him. He glances up over the glasses as he hears the bell. "Cuttin' it kind of close there," he makes comment. "Was about to lock the till."     He casually gets up from his stool and walks over to pull the Griffons off the shelf. The scents of dozens of brands of tobacco permeate the shop, and he tosses them on the counter. "That all for ya?" he asks. 

:'''{{#var:114|Scott Summers (114)}} has posed:''' "Always working," Scott says, with a bit of a shrug to the comment. "Don't know. I'm just out looking for a friend of the family," Scott says, just dryly enough it could pass for a joke. "Seen him?" He pulls out his wallet, simple brown leather, and drops a bill for the cigarette. 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     "Oh, yeah, I can relate to that," Rey says in agreement to Scott's comment on always working. He slaps his hand down nonchalantly, sliding the bill toward himself and putting it in the register.     "That's kinda vague," Rey says as he looks at the register, punching the total in. The till rings. "This friend got a name?" he asks as he puts the bill into the register. 

:'''{{#var:114|Scott Summers (114)}} has posed:''' Scott shrugs unknowingly. "Haven't met him yet, I was told I could find him here, though. I..." Scott shifts on his feet and clears his throat. "I need some help. Someone I know has disappeared. I can't find her anywhere." Scott looks pleadingly at Rey and opens his wallet again and reaches for some bills. "I really need to find her. I can pay," he says awkwardly. 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     "Oh..." Rey answers, his face acting as if it understands. He holds his hand out in a stopping motion. "You keep your money right where it is," he says. "Family doesn't charge. If you're family." He gives a gun point at Scott, and the end of his finger lights up like a candle. "You know, family?" Clearly the innuendo is family equals mutant. "Anyway, what's the story? Your lead told you right." 

:'''{{#var:114|Scott Summers (114)}} has posed:''' Scott stops mid-reach and pockets his wallet. He looks relieved. "I am," he assures Rey and taps his glasses. "It's, well it's complicated but I'm looking for this girl. She's, family, but things have been rough for her. She was staying at the Nachesko Building," he says, a bit embarassed. "And since the other day..." Scott shakes his head. "I haven't seen her. I can't call her. If they took her..." 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     Rey frowns. "By who?" he says. "Family will take care of her, bring her back." He pulls the bill back out of the drawer, and shuts it, sliding it back in Scott's direction. "So she was in the old Nachesko building. Squatting?" he asks, then raises a hand. "No judgements here," he qualifies. "Some of us get worse hands than others." Rey does seem, for his rather rough appearance, to be someone who cares genuinely. 

:'''{{#var:114|Scott Summers (114)}} has posed:''' "I don't actually smoke," Scott says, looking awkward again. He pushes the pack back toward Rey and slips the bill into his pocket. "Something happened there a couple days ago?" Scott says with a nod. "People are talking about... robots? I haven't heard from her since. Haven't seen her. Nothing. I mean... I don't know where she is." 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     "The Sentinels." The word is like saying an unspeakable name. It's said with care. "Yeah. Above anything I know about, but I can pass the word on that." His face darkens. "Damn flatscanners. Can't just leave us alone, gotta bring that garbage into our town. Family won't take it. They got people. People who can do something about that." He points the same finger that was alight a moment ago. "You mark my words, they'll all pay, they sure will. But you gotta tell me everything you know. Cuz they are gonna want to know everything you heard about these things. Not the stuff on the news. Who saw'em, did you see'm? 

:'''{{#var:114|Scott Summers (114)}} has posed:''' Scott nods and looks pained. "I did... And I tried to help, but.. It happened really fast and I couldn't help everyone. They were spider robots, except they had metal tentacles. They came right up out of the sewers, and climbed up the walls into the building," Scott recalls. "I couldn't get inside until it was all over... I don't know where everyone went. We all just ran. And I haven't seen her since, so I don't know if..." Scott shakes his head. "I really need their help. I have to find out where these things came from and what happened. I have to. You really think they can help me?" 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     Rey reaches over the counter to put both hands on Scott's shoulders if he's allowed. "Hey, hey. Look at me. Ain't nobody got our back like the family. They're like us. But see, they don't wait for the cops to pretend to do their job. They don't wait for judges either. They just make it right. What's her name, you got a picture?" 

:'''{{#var:114|Scott Summers (114)}} has posed:''' Scott tenses reflexively but just looks down at the counter and nods reflexively. "Hard to believe anyone can help with something like this," Scott shrugs. "Who else? I just want to see Jean again. She's a redhead, maybe 5'6"? Pretty, but not in your face kind of pretty. If that makes sense. She's 25. I'd give a lot to have her with me... She's really important to me. Tell them I'll do whatever they need. Just find out what happened and if they have her." 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     "So, you got a picture? You got a last name?" Rey asks. "I can only give them info I know." He pulls a pad from a shelf below the counter, and drops it in front of him. It has a logo of a local car dealership on it. He grabs a pen, scribbles on the corner a few times to make certain it works, then starts to write. "Okay, we got Spider robots..." he says, putting a "1" beside it. "Nachesko Building. Jean..." he looks up, expecting a surname. 

:'''{{#var:114|Scott Summers (114)}} has posed:''' "Bailey, but I don't have a picture," Scott says with a shake of his head. "I know, it's not a lot. But we haven't been as... Close as I'd like. Even if they can just find out where the robots came from, maybe they'll find anyone who got taken?" 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     "Bailey..." The pen scrawls the name. "Okay. So I don't figure too many people are making spider robots. I'm sure they got someone who knows something about it if there was any kind of commotion." He nods. "I can't tell you she's gonna be all right. I think we both know she might not. But I can tell you this." He leans in close. "If she ain't, some people are gonna be hurtin' like you 'n I never known in payback." He gives a nod. "What's your name, brother?" he asks. "Family may want to talk to you to ask more specifics, and what not. Nothin' to fear from them, though." 

:'''{{#var:114|Scott Summers (114)}} has posed:''' Scott shifts uneasily but nods. "Scott," he says and motions for the pen. "I'll give you my number." Scott writes down the number of one of the phones he uses for these kinds of things in neat, precise numbers. He sets down the pen. "I really appreciate this... Rey?" he asks and holds out a hand. "Means a lot." 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     Rey takes the hand in a firm, but slightly grainy handshake. "Yeah, Rey. My pleasure Scott. If they call you, it'll be from a Manhattan number. I know we get all kindsa telemarketers and stuff, but answer, it could be them. You take care'a yourself, y'hear? Remember, Family's watchin', they'll make somethin' happen. They always do." 
}}

8051/City Fall: The Extended Offer

2019-06-25T17:44:10Z

GodsKnite: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2019/06/25 |Location=Yale Club - Midtown, Manhattan |Synopsis=Fiona is offered a job. Hunting down the Punisher. |Cast of Characters=1233,984 |pret..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2019/06/25
|Location=Yale Club - Midtown, Manhattan
|Synopsis=Fiona is offered a job. Hunting down the Punisher.
|Cast of Characters=1233,984
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     12am Yale Club. A higher level establishment to be certain. The Yale Club is a black tie place, the victorian style of the club and restaurant overlooks Midtown, lit up like a Christmas tree even in the black of night. Inside the lights have been lowered slightly so that the patrons can see out the tall vertical windows.     Of course, at this hour, there are few people entering the establishment, it is mostly consisting of rich old men who have somehow achieved a beautiful young woman on their arm, or are engaging in some sort of political discussion, or business arrangement. Quiet corners, and several rooms are available, a formal looking man with a mustache stands at the conceirge in his tuxedo. 

:'''{{#var:984|Fiona Glenanne (984)}} has posed:''' Fiona has to wear a dress. A. Dress. And not your average one. This place is black tie and she goes with the female equivalent and finds her way in, saying she was asked to meet somebody here. Curves being hugged by a dreess that's out of Gone with the Wind.....Fiona steps inside and looks around with a shrug. "Okay. I'm here to meet somebody" she explains and is shown where to sit. "do I need to curtsy too?" she asks and gets a look in response. "I'll take it as a no" she adds and is taking in the view with a pleased, if astonished look. This place is way out of her league...sure, she likes the finer things in life. God knows she bought new shiny, expensive shoes for this....but.....even this is more than she's used to. 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     "Of course," the conceirge remains polite, mostly ignoring any social inexperience that Fiona shows. He glances at the list. "And the person you were planning to meet?" he asks, glancing at his book on its podium.     Since Fiona was not given a direct name, it could have been awkward if not for the voice that pipes up. "That would be me, Miles." Baxter Stockman, President and founder of TCRI and Stockgen. Terminal degrees in computer engineering, robotic engineering, genetics, biomedicine, AI development, and telematics. Every bit on level with people like Tony Stark, Lex Luthor, and Reed Richards.     The African American man is fit with a smile that can disarm or intimidate, depending on its usage.     "Ah, yes, of course Dr. Stockman," the conceirge bows slightly. "Very good." He gestures politely toward him with a look back to Fiona, stepping back. Stockman, for his part, walks briskly and decidedly forward, stopping at a polite distance. Like a gentleman of old, he gives a nod that might be considered a bow. Unlike a gentleman of old, he offers his hand first for a handshake. 

:'''{{#var:984|Fiona Glenanne (984)}} has posed:''' Shaking the hand, Fiona looks amused as she shakes it then smiles. "So" she says with a nod. "I've heard of you and your company. What makes you want to invite me here?" she asks with a curious tint to her eyes. "It's..very high society" Fi says and nods. "May I sit?" she adds and smooths out her dress. It's.....the color of her eyes, really. She's got on the aforeementioned heels, and the fact her hair's done up to be a fit in this club....it's saying something. Fiona looks like she fits in, which is good. 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     "Yes, of course," Stockman says with a firm shake. A bit firmer than might be expected to be given to a lady in a formal dress. "I'm not planning to stand this entire time." It might be considered a joke, but there's something in the tone that smacks of condescension as well. "I have a room reserved for us. Right this way."     He leads without hesitation through the halls, and to a smaller room, a few of the tall windows looking out over the lights of the city. It might normally be reserved for a small party. A waiter stands at a small bar.     "A drink?" Stockman offers, gesturing to the young waiter in his equally formal tuxedo. 

:'''{{#var:984|Fiona Glenanne (984)}} has posed:''' "Water" Fiona says. It's a good trick, keep a clear head. If she's talking with a big shot CEO...she'l need a clear head. That. And....oh yes....she's already thinking ahead. Didn't bring a gun. But she doesn't need one anyhow. Instead...she's got her own ways of fighting. "Just water with ice" she says and looks serious for a moment. "So. Why'd you invite me here? I was told about this meeeting by a cop. So" Fiona says. "What's the deal?" 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     The waiter pours the water and ice without a comment, placing it on a cork coaster and a Yale Club napkin being placed next to it.     "And a Moscow Mule," the doctor requests. With skill, the second drink is crafted and placed on the counter in similar fashion.     "Yes, I have worked with the NYPD and many other people to ensure the stability of our city." He walks to a couple of couches that surround a a coffee table, and sits casually, placing the drink and coaster on the table, and leaning back to throw one arm across the back of the couch. He didn't wait for her to sit either. Apparently his manners are only out of what is required rather than a desire to be genuinely cordial.     You may have heard about the Punisher in the news lately. Collapsing a building in Manhattan, attacks on the warehouse district. He is fighting a one man war against the city itself, thinks he's doing good for everyone." He reaches into his jacket pocket, pulling out his phone. It's not a Stark phone, but has just as much technology packed into it. A holographic picture projects to the table from it, an image of the collapsed building. "Did a little digging on you, Ms. Glenanne. Looks like you've run into your share of people like Mr. Castle here." 

:'''{{#var:984|Fiona Glenanne (984)}} has posed:''' Fiona nods. "Everyone's heard of him. Yeah he collapsed a building. What of it?" she asks and looks impressed at the phone. "So....you're telling me this. Cop said I was to meet a Foot here?" she asks and looks skeptical. "So what about it huh?" she asks, thanking the waiter for her wate and sipping it. 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     "Yes," Dr. Stockman says, a look of annoyance crossing his face. "The Foot are affiliates of mine. Given their...recluse nature, they asked if I would be willing to meet with you instead. They are looking to put an end to this city's prolific crime problem. As old-fashioned and backward as they may be, they are doing a good job. Muggings are down 67%. Reported murders down 41%. Hate crimes in Bushwick are down 97%, which is impressive with Trask's sentinels causing so much chaos, those barbaric shows of ego. They aren't even that well designed, I could show him a thing or two." he pauses in his negative tyraid that was spinning up. "I digress. The point is that they are doing something the police can't do. They are bringing order to the city. Vigilantes like the self-proclaimed 'Punisher' are nothing but wild dogs that further threaten the city and it's inhabitants. A total of 5 people were murdered, two of them fifteen year old children. Shot in the head." He shakes his head. "The Foot thinks that you might be helpful in taking him out. It wouldn't be sanctioned by any government, but if something goes wrong, they /and/ I would make sure you don't feel the wrath of the government. As payment, we'll get all those pesky charges dropped against you." 

:'''{{#var:984|Fiona Glenanne (984)}} has posed:''' Fiona looks interested. "Well....look, I hear you on the vigilante front. I had a friend who was in the IRA. Go on. Call them terrorists...but they had rules. Drive a truck bomb? Call and warn them. Let the innocent people get out then blow it up. Point is. People like that" Fi says swilling her water around in her glass. "Had rules. Guess what. The British didn't" Fi points out with a sigh. "And the Punisher doesn't. Ever thought maybe the cops can't do much with all this crap, like red tape, like boo hoo, I shot a guy when he was robbing a store, now I'm on paid leave while they investigate me?" Fi asks cynically. "Go figure. The cops don't care. They got their quotas and arrests and then layers jump up and down and scream my client's innocent. I'll help you...but it won't happen overnight" Fi says "It will take time to learn and study the Punisher" she nods. "And I don't feel I can kill him, but I should be able to explain things to him." 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     "Explain things," Dr. Stockman echoes. "You realize that the only explanation a rabid dog like this understands is the business end of a gun, or an explosive, in your case," he gives a nod to the concept with his hand. "No one would expect it overnight, and we can provide you with support if you need more people on your team. That is not a problem. Or if you can't handle it, say now and we'll walk away, and you can keep your free water." 

:'''{{#var:984|Fiona Glenanne (984)}} has posed:''' Fi nods and sips her water. "Well. I'm in. What information do you have on him?" Fi asks. "I've a list of what I'd need to make a run at the Punisher. I'm not going ot take him down with just a handgun, am I?" she asks. "I'm looking for a team, weapons, a place to plan" she explains and looks impressed. 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     "That we can get you. Every police report, every piece of information we can scrap up, we'll get available to you. As for a place to plan, we can handle that as well. Or, more accurately /they/ can handle that. I support their endeavor, but you can understand why I wouldn't want to be too closely related. Black masks and underworld dealings aren't really my cup of tea." He sips his moscow mule, the alcohol brushing his mustache. 

:'''{{#var:984|Fiona Glenanne (984)}} has posed:''' Fiona nods and sips her water. "I understand, and...it's absolutely. I get it. But at the same time.....they know too and they're not people you want to mess with" Fi adds and looks impressed. "So...you're turning it over to them, yes? Then....I appreciate the chance to sit down with you. And" Fi nods, "If it's not too much trouble" she says checking the time. "I should head home soon.....but I'm in" she nods. "I can help you out if you keep your word too" 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     "A person in my position must keep his promises," Stockman says, "If he wants anyone to believe his threats. The Foot wants your help. Know that they always follow through on both. Stay on their good side, and you'll be taken care of. Get on their bad side..." he winces. "Don't get on their bad side." He pulls out a second phone, and tosses it toward her. This one is a Stark phone. The number for your contact with them is in this phone. I'd lock it as soon as you can. He gestures to the back, having a pocket with a gold coin. "That coin in the back of it? Don't lose it. They like some kind of club thing. Everyone with them gets one. Solid gold, too. I woulda just used tin personally. Don't understand the extravagence. But hey, they aren't economists, so whatever, it's their money." 

:'''{{#var:984|Fiona Glenanne (984)}} has posed:''' Fi nods and pockets the phone after locking it. She's taking notes mentally...and nods. "A Stark phone? Thank you" she nod. She nods and looks amused and listens. "So....don't get on their bad side. Alright" she nods, making a note not to tick off the Foot. "Gold coin, got it. Phone. Got it. Go through their contact. Okay, as far as anyone knows I was invited here for a drink and a meal, right. Nothing to link you to the Foot?" she asks gently, trying to deflect any suspicion. 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     "Just another night at the Yale Club," Stockman answers with a nod. "I'll deny we ever met. You understand." He pauses. "However, with your talents, if you ever do need a more...legitimate form of employment, I'd be happy to consider it," he says. "Your skills might be useful in an R&D setting." 
}}

8034/City Fall: Down at the Precinct

2019-06-24T20:13:06Z

GodsKnite: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2019/06/24 |Location=Police Station - NYC |Synopsis=Fiona is offered some side work at the police station, but not side work for the Police. |Cast..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2019/06/24
|Location=Police Station - NYC
|Synopsis=Fiona is offered some side work at the police station, but not side work for the Police.
|Cast of Characters=984,1233
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:984|Fiona Glenanne (984)}} has posed:''' ^rThe door opens as Fiona's walking in to report a crime. Which is ironic given she's a knack of detonating stuff and shooting guns. She though....got nugged. Alright, she sent the guy to the hospital with a broken nose....but.....she's good at punching people. Still she's left alone for a while after stepping in. Perfect time to talk really....it's just Fi in the room. No working cameras, nothing. Fi's sat back relaxing. It's nothing new to Fi after all. She's got a record a mile long in Ireland, and a past with the IRA. Fi looks amused then shaking her head. 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     Detective Quincy Weekly comes in. "Ms..." he looks at the last name, and seems uncertain if he will properly pronounce it. "Fiona," he decides for safety. He's a rather heavy set man, African American, maybe thirty years old. He's wearing an open gray dress shirt with black slacks, and he sits carefully in his desk chair. A little more personal attention than most standard reports get.     "It looks like you got yourself into a little trouble," he comments. "I hope you're all right," he says. "Rather ill-timed, right after your arrest the other day, don't you think?" He looks up from the report on his tablet, and then sets it on the desk. 

:'''{{#var:984|Fiona Glenanne (984)}} has posed:''' Fi raises her palms. "Not my fault this time, Detective. I got mugged and hit the guy once. He got punched in the nose and I was defending myself" she says looking unimpressed at the gall of people trying to rob her....as she looks annoyed. "Look. I can explain. So" she points out looking to the detective, "I'm allowed to defend myself, right?" she adds and folds her arms looking uneasy. 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     A quirk to one side. "Of course," he says. "It just seems that you have a bit of a knack for getting into trouble," he comments. "And such a hassle that you'll probably have to go to court over these warrants." Quincy leans back in the chair, which creaks a little with his weight. "So you were attacked by a mugger," he repeats. "You punched him. What happened after that?" 

:'''{{#var:984|Fiona Glenanne (984)}} has posed:''' "After I punched him I didn't hit him again" Fi says. "He went down clutching his nose. So" Fiona mutters "I hit him once. He went down. I ran away from him, considering I don't like being mugged" Fiona says defiantly. "So....." she sighs. 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     "Great, well, you showed him," Quincy gives a nod. "And I think we got him here, too." He puts down the tablet, and crosses one leg over the other, holding the upright knee with both hands. "So, Fiona. I can call you that, right?" he asks. "It seems that you've had a record of having some other activities in the past, or such is the grapevine. You have a bit of an explosive personality, if you will pardon the pun. Can you tell me more about that?" 

:'''{{#var:984|Fiona Glenanne (984)}} has posed:''' Fiona smiles at the pun. "Consider it pardoned" she says dryly. "You caught the guy with a switchblade and a temper?" she asks with a quirk of her mouth. "Oh good. I've no idea what you've heard about me. I'm a model citizen bar being in the system" Fiona says playing innocent....or....doing her level best to play innocent that is. 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     "Oh, completely," Quincy says. He leans forward, picking back up the tablet. "Let me just..." he taps a few times. "Hold on, technology isn't my strong suit," he admits. He taps for several more seconds. "Ah, there it is," he says. "What do you make of this?" he asks. "Someone shared it with us after you were processed the other day."     It's a video of Fiona as she walks up to the trash can on the skytrain, putting something into it, and walking away. Shortly after, there's a flash, and the video ends. "I thought that was pretty interesting, myself," he says. "What do you think happened with that trash can?" 

:'''{{#var:984|Fiona Glenanne (984)}} has posed:''' Fi shakes her head. "I put a cigarettte in the trash and it was burning" Fiona sayys. "It caught fire? I mean, you toss a cigarette in and it catches fire right?" she asks playing dumb. Still. Fi looks at the video and shakes her head. "So I threw a cigarette away, big deal. Everyone does it" she bluffs and looks at the video again. 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     "Really?" Detective Weekly says. "That is quite the fire," he says with an obvious skepticism. "Just explodes, takes out the whole trashcan, the camera a few feet away." He leans forward, resting on his elbows. "I have someone who may want to talk with you about it. They've been digging, and they are really curious about how you can make trash cans just explode from putting cigarettes in them. 

:'''{{#var:984|Fiona Glenanne (984)}} has posed:''' "Really" Fi says and looks amused. "So you got somebody who wants to talk to me, huh?" she asks "Go on, if it's a cop I'd like to see a lawyer, if it's a reporter I've no comment" Fi grimaces, shaking her headd and sits, hands in her lap. "So you think I got this super power of making things randomly blow up huh?" she asks with a shrug. "I mean that'd be a sweet power, but....." Fiona says and looks unimpressed. "Think of the havoc it'd cause!" 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     "Yes, I'm sure it would," he says. "May be able to help you in return with your impending court trials. You're way too young to have a record already in life. Would be great if that could just go away, wouldn't it?" Quincy shrugs. "Not a cop, not really. Not a reporter to be certain. What do you say? Should I tell them you are happy to chat?" 

:'''{{#var:984|Fiona Glenanne (984)}} has posed:''' Fi looks curious, "Go on...." she says and looks impressed then amused, "So who wants to speak to me?" she asks then leans forward. "I'm all ears. You're right though" he adds and raisees an eyebrow. "I'm listening" 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     "They are an outfit tryin' to make things work in this city. Less violence," Weekly says. "Can't say I'm a fan of all they do, but I'll be damned if it isn't working." He lowers his voice. "They are called the Foot. Some weird Japanese group, ninjas and stuff, see? They've shut down a lot of the common muggings, ten to one, that mugger was planted to get you in here because they wanted to talk to you." He shrugs. "They aren't people to screw with, I'll warn you. So don't say yes if you aren't willin' to take the red pill." 

:'''{{#var:984|Fiona Glenanne (984)}} has posed:''' Fi looks skeptical. "I'll hear them out" she says and loks amused. "I mean.....I'm all for hearing them out" she adds with a smile, "I mean...they're not people to screw with right? Good." she adds and nods sagely. "So who is it, and do I meet them here or?" 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     There is a pause, and Quincy pulls his phone from his pocket. "Okay," he says, and tosses a text. "I don't get to know that part," he says. "They don't trust cops all that much, so they like to keep things ambiguous on our end, in case one of us decides we want to get a few notches in our belt." He taps out a text, and puts his phone down again. "They should let me know in a couple mins or somethin." He reaches in his desk, and pulls out a granola bar. "Want a snack? Wife's been tellin' me I need to lose weight, so I've been havin' to eat this health food crap." 

:'''{{#var:984|Fiona Glenanne (984)}} has posed:''' Fi shrugs, "Alright, health food's a hard no. Empire Bay's awash with the stuff. Can't go five feet without some cael vender or...ya know, seaweed this, asparagus that" Fi grits her teeth as she says it and shudders. "No way. Give me real food. If I ever get reincarnated as a rabbit, I'll eat all the healthy stuff I want" she says then nods to the detective. "Alright, I'll just sit here. You sure you can't get us something that's actual....ya know....real foodd?" she asks with a sigh. Not looking forward to healthy food one bit, Fiona looks unamused. "I heard you cops are nicer when you had food. So" Fi nods. "I may test that theory" 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     "Not wrong," Quincy pats his girth, "That's my problem," he gives a laugh, and looks down as his phone buzzes. "Oh, there it is. Says meet them tomorrow at The Yale Club. Looks like you might get a good meal after all. That's a nice place." 

:'''{{#var:984|Fiona Glenanne (984)}} has posed:''' "It is. Holland Township, got a nice home. Yale club, tomorrow. Right" Fiona nods as if taking mental notes then shakes her head. "Nah I've the opposite problem. Active life, eat, don't put on pounds. Or I lose them swimming or running and....stuff" Fi shrugs and looks amused. "You know, you ain't bad for a cop, you've not immediately tried to slap me in cuffs for something I didn't even do" Fiona gripes. 

:'''{{#var:1233|Shredder (1233)}} has posed:'''     The detective shrugs. "I do my best, what can I say?" He comments. "You be careful out there, try not to get into too much trouble." He stands up, and indicates the door. "You're free to go when you like, if you need anything from the dispatch they can get you checked out." 

:'''{{#var:984|Fiona Glenanne (984)}} has posed:''' Fiona nods and looks amused. "Oh I'll try" she says looking serious then nods. "I'll try. I'll be good, Detective" Fi says and slips towward the door. 
}}