11154/Sweets and Steel

Sweets and Steel
Date of Scene:	06 March 2020
Location:	West Farms, The Bronx
Synopsis:	Bloody and beaten mooks!
Cast of Characters:	Colossus, Berri Sundae

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Colossus has posed:
    Levinsky's Gym in Little Odessa doesn't really have a lot of walk in traffic. In fact it in some ways actively tries to discourage it. Perhaps due to the owner, sitting behind the desk there near the front entrance, thickly built despite being in his eighties and with a severe hook face that promises severe reprisal to anyone that dares interrupt his solving the crossword puzzle. Perhaps due to the fact that there's no signage out front, no hint that the converted warehouse is anything other than abandoned. Perhaps it's also because the whole place has soaped over their windows because of a desire for privacy.
    Yet whatever the reason, their main customers seem to not mind it so much. It's not a gym where people go to take spin classes or jog on the treadmill while watching CNN. It's more the place that when you go there there are burly Eastern European men training on the mats and in the boxing ring. With weightlifters clanking on the free weights sounds throughout the gym. And it's a place that quite plainly stinks, like effort and exertion and a slight tang of blood.
    Perfect place for Piotr Rasputin to work on his off hours. Walking around, picking up a towel here or there, helping one of the locals with their form. Though today with the group of six men standing on the mats, each taking turns toppling each other, he remains nearby. As Mr. Levinsky does not like the trouble these men at times bring.

Berri Sundae has posed:
Sometimes it was more a case of knowing where to look rather than being shown, and Berri was great at finding things out that people didn't tend to want publicly known. Sometimes people were simply careless in what they said in her presence, or what they thought...
     She didn't, however, blend in. Pink and brunette hair, a corset and a parasol were hardly standard outfits around here, and petite girls that looked like her were hardly the normal patron either.
     Stepping through the door, she hardly looked ready to work out, perhaps she was here to visit someone?

Colossus has posed:
    The door jangled as it opened, revealing that gym to Berri's arrival. Mr. Levinsky looked up from the newspaper, chewing on his unlit cigar and shooting a scowl across the way at the young woman. For a time he might have weighed his options. Ask for a membership fee and have to deal with her. Or let her go in and let someone else deal with it. He looks back down to his newspaper. And she likely can get a clear insight on motivations there from him, even see that mental equation in his head.
    As for the rest, a cursory glance is given. Most of them are normal neighborhood men of the area, focused on working out, training, a lot while doing so thinking of their current paramour or object of desire, be they man or woman. Some are just focused on the next hill on the old treadmills.
    But two sets of minds might stick out to her as she explores. The grim men on the mats, training, fighting, very much in their primal minds and barely controlling their aggression. And then the one who is named... Piotr?
    That one was harder to read. Something about him, a subtle self-awareness. A strong self-image and work ethic. He is there to do what he needs to. And then he notices Berri... and likely she will feel a faint murmur of concern for her, thinking she may be out of place or looking for someone.

Berri Sundae has posed:
Someone telepathically shielded...or at least trained? That was almost more interesting than any thought she might manage to glean from the minds of the other thugs. Those mismatched eyes of hers shift, twin colors moving towards the man name Piotr to regard him for a moment. That murmer of concern across his mind earns a tilt of her own head, a small blinking of her otherwise 'innocent' face. Clearly he wasn't one of the gangs, just a 'wrong place, wrong time' sort. Interesting.

A shrug, she turns now, the heels that added to her moddest height clicking lightly as she approaches the gathering of gang members and tilts her head to regard them all in turn. The parsol comes down, dropped to 'point down' and let her lean on the handle while she counts things out. She'd been paid to send a message here to this group that had been getting a little too 'big' for their boots in the eyes of a bigger player. But how to start things off?

Colossus has posed:
    Some of them are attentive, watching two others standing there and focused on what they are being taught. Those two others, they stand before the kneeling burly men, and impart to them words of information spaced out with occasional dabs of Russian.
    "When Igor rushes, starting from the left, like so." The instructor, a thick tattooed man with a grim visage and burn scars along his left hip, "I accept this rush, I go low, like so." And he puts words to motion as the other instructor rushes him. "I go low, spread my legs, take him at the hips, like so, da?" As he says that then he grabs the man with one thickly muscled arm and /twists/ sharply, taking the other man down to the mats with a thud.
    The other men nod in understanding, though one of the instructors looks at Berri, frowns, then turns and says something to Piotr across the way in thick Russian.
    << Rasputin, we pay good money to not be disturbed. >>
    << You pay good money to train here, and Mr. Levinsky allows you to use his facilities. If she disturbs you go into the back room, yes? >>
    The instructor scowls, eyeing Berri again and shaking his head. The lesson continues.

Berri Sundae has posed:
A frown, consideration continues for a moment. Berri didn't speak Russian herself, but there was a lot to be said for telepathy. She's left to exhale a breath, think for a moment and finally? Reach into her back pocket. One quick scribbling of her notepad later, the teenaged criminal walks towards Piotr, offering the little folded scrap towards the man with a little quirk of her lips that might have been a smile. Then she turns, seeming to disregard the apparent security entirely, and step towards the one providing the lesson.

Another scribble, a jab of her parasol handle comes against the man's back before she tilts her head. Both had a similar message, with an entirely different tone.

To Piotr: You should take a break! XO

To the instructor: You're shut down. Time to leave.

Colossus has posed:
    The instructor had turned back and was speaking to his class, she heard the Russian, yet read the thoughts. He began explaining how once you had the opponent in the side mount it was little effort to plant a foot upon his neck, or to grasp his arm and twist for the dislocation and break. All the while showing the process on the form of the willing 'uke' though that man seemed used to assisting the trainer.
    Piotr for his part, took the note and looked at it curiously. She could likely sense the flicker of confusion, then his glance give over to old man Levinsky at the door, making a hand sign as if to ask what is to be done. Levinsky answered with the shrug of shoulders whose meaning is ubiquitus throughout the world.
    But when she poked the instructor the man took her note and looked at it. Frowned. In his mind the note meant nothing to him, so he extended it to his assistant and asked,
    << What does this mean? >>
    << She is saying we are shut down, it is time to leave? >>
    The response is almost instant as that instructor makes a single noise of , 'pffft' and gnarls up the note, then tosses it dismissively straight at Berri with a casual negligent toss.

Berri Sundae has posed:
The problem with telepaths like Berri? They might not be nearly as powerful as a certain professor, but there was a focus on a more 'active' style; she saw it coming. The thrown paper? It's caught lightly with her left hand before it can collide with her face, but it's her right hand that's more interesting for its actions.

The parasol suddenly strikes out, driving its point into the back of the dismissive instructor's knee before she twirls the weapon that had seemed harmless a moment ago around and smacks the side of his head -hard-. She was small, but there was a noticable metallic sound of impact with that whack! The moment he was down and likely dazed? The paper is crammed into his mouth and then -shoved- in with the point of her heels.

Berri was always one for style, and she just as keen to make an impression with the picking of this fight.

Colossus has posed:
    It was a blur of movement, an abrupt harsh lesson in a combination that was meant to at first cripple and then dispatch. The jolt of her parasol is felt as it lances up her arm, a good strong hit that steals the man's balance from him, only for his head to be cracked open with the force of the other impact, taking that most dangerous of the men down quickly and precisely. It's as she starts to crush that note into the man's mouth...
    That's when her mental alarms likely go off.
    For in that instant the six other men instantly shift gears, indignation and surprise gives way to murder, no hesitation, pure and icy cold that slip of spirit that she can feel as they roil and then /leap/
    All of a sudden she is beset, as on of the men does not go for her but instead for her weapon, the parasol, seeking to cover it with his body and grab hold of it. While two others try to rush and get hold of her limbs while the assistant moves in with a wicked haymaker all looking to crash it into her mouth...
    Except suddenly his shoulder is grabbed and he's hurled across the mats as that one, Piotr? He lifts his voice and says, "This is no good, six against one."

Berri Sundae has posed:
Someone Berri's size, shape and general appearance should be freaking the hell out when six men rush her and attempt to attack her. Berri herself, she doesn't seem quite so worried. In fact? She's actually smiling when the danger comes charging her way. That grab at her weapon, there's a twist and a change of angle, letting him grab the 'top' end of the weapon and pull it against himself rather than the handle in a rather strange surrender. Then she's moving, hand-over-hand twirling down the length of the weapon to weave out of the way of arms grabbing for her and letting the last flick a small release hidden just under the fabric of the parasol.

The sudden 'whump' of the parasol opening was probably expected, but the equally sudden springing of the concealed blade from the tip that was already pulled tight against his body and possibly gripped in his hand? Less so. Maybe he'd lose a finger or two? That tended to make sure lessons were remembered!

The intervention of Piotr? That was...unexpected! Usually she'd have to focus hard to 'whammy' the biggest person in the room to help her. Today he was doing so on his own and that was -so- much easier!

Grabbing her weapon from the stunned and possibly stabbed man, Berri's form leans backwards and then 'rolls' into a light hand spring that sweeps her out of the way, extending the spring once more until she could land neatly, sitting on one of the benches and offering a mute smirk. She wasn't saying a word, but the casual posture and feline grin made it clear what she was asking: 'Are you sure you want to play?'

Colossus has posed:
    There is that flash of blood as she slips away from the one, making him pay a grim price with the sharp /snap/ if the blade flicking into place. There's a gasp from him, a spatter of ichor as he draws his hand back, holding carefully upon a finger and trying to stifle the flow of blood.
    The others had tried to risk, to reach, to contain. But she had slipped free, flipping clean across those soft mats, the fabric whispering and exhaling compressed air with each press from her hands, her feet, hands again.
    And then there she says like some grim harlequin in the form of a lithe deadly gymnast.
    The one with the wounded hand grimaced and begged in his native tongue for help, help provided by one of the burlies. Two of the others scowled and snarled something entirely unflattering about her future relationships and rushed her, one breaking into a leap of a flying kick seeking to crack the edge of his foot against her skull while the other man rounded.
    Poor Piotr was beset on both sides by two other men, one rushed him from the front the other behind, even as around the corner another pair, those Russian mobsters that had been just at the back. Odds for her were still poor...
    But manageable.

Berri Sundae has posed:
Twist. Step. Lean. Dance. Every strike towards Berri made it look like she was -just- out of reach. More than that, she was making it look effortless. It nearly was, between the training of the league and her own abilities she could literally read their movements the moment they decided to undertake them. But it wasn't just that...

The shift was subtle, a dancing influence on perception for the rounding man. He'd see her moving, see an opening to leap on...and hopefully go leaping right into the path of his friend's kick as she stepped the other way. Such a trick was harder on a crowd, but with Piotr working as a distraction for the other two? The violent icecream-colored pixie was free to wreck havoc on the two men that were still focused on her.

Colossus has posed:
    The leaping fighter lands and seems almost satisfied, so pleased with himself as his foot connects /hard/ with his... target? His comrade goes down, head bouncing off the wall with a sharp crack that renders him unconscious or possibly worse if he does not get medical treatment in time. That leaves her with the one in front of her to deal with as those two who rounded the corner...
    Abruptly they rush towards Piotr even as that tall man is focused entirely on the two around him. Yet if she is able to spare the metal bandwidth, she might well sense that the man who had aided her in that brief window, was not fighting desperately, was not rife with fear and terror trying to survive.
    He was trying not to hurt them too badly. A concern Berri did not share at all it seemed.
    There was a /crack/ as Piotr's fist crashed into the face of one of the gangsters, then the other charged him from behind, trying to wrap his arms around his throat. Only for that large towel boy to drop and step forward, throwing that attacker to the mats and then striking him sharply, soundly in the sternum causing the man to curl up and moan deeply.
    She still had one, and poor Piotr still had two menacing him.

Berri Sundae has posed:
Very much he was being 'nicer' than she was, something suprising to any who would compare Berri to the burly Russian mutant. In that way, the guys brave enough to rush the 'big man' were lucky really! Rounding the leaping thug, the girl with the parasol thrusts the suddenly blunt tip forwards towards his gut. It might seem like a moment of mercy, but it's a brief one over all too soon by the girl drawing the full blade out and revealing the hidden sword concealed in the shaft of the parasol.

She thrusts, trying to drive the weapon into the thigh of the man, not enough to hit anything vital but certainly to make it hurt like hell and bend him forwards...into the waiting boot of her rising kick. Those heels to the face were probably gonna hurt!

Rounding now to Piotr and his foes, there's a light 'flick' of the girl's wrist to remove the stray blood from that shining weapon and she begins to advance with a light 'skip' to her step.

Colossus has posed:
    The blade drawn, the burly Russian handling them all and everything they threw at him. As soon as they see their comrade bleeding and injured as he staggers away, shrieking in pain and trying to get to the help of one of the other gangsters, the others break into a panic. It's likely delicious, she can feel it in her mind, the way they suddenly shift form that cold desire to murder, over to that hot blaze of fear. They rush and split up away from her. Only stopping long enough to gather their wounded as they can, the one menacing Piotr just turning and beating a hasty retreat.
    It's over in seventeen seconds, the gym had emptied of the other customers, and even old man Levisnky. Leaving her there with her oh so good Samaritan as he tilted his head toward her, recovering his breath. Dark blue eyes flick down to the blade in her hand, then back to her own eyes as he says quietly. "You should not have done that, tovarisch."
    She can likely see the flicker in his mind, the severity of her attack, the perfect lethality in her form. Perhaps she'll get a flicker of a face in his thoughts, a man snarling with rage. For though she had used weapons to deadly advantage. These were bad men.
    "Go if you must. I will be fine."

Berri Sundae has posed:
Too much of anything, be it sugar or spice, could ruin the taste of anything. As the men fled, her senses withdrew just a little more. They were easily refocused, drawn towards the large helpful Russian offering her advice. No words are spoken from the girl, perhaps she simply -couldn't- speak any in return, or didn't speak English...though she could certainly write it. A pause comes, but it's only long enough for her to retrieve the outer casing of the parasol and sheath the weapon back into its hiding place.

That face was confusing, a fragment she didn't quite get that brings a more genuine flutter of curiousity to her expression. It's broken with a blink though, at Piotr's offered instruction. She shrugs, turning on her heal towards the door with that same spring in her step. This was going to pay well enough, maybe she could celebrate on the way home.