1128/Grace with an Arsenal

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Grace with an Arsenal
Date of Scene: 24 June 2017
Location: Metropolis
Synopsis: Grace helps Arsenal defend a break in.
Cast of Characters: Arsenal, Grace Choi




Arsenal has posed:
Crime Pays. At least, that's what the unorthodox criminal pairing of Siren and Stranglehold are betting on. The tag team of terror have already made their way through the gate of some local aeronautics firm that should've hired guards that wear headphones because the three guards are sound asleep in the corner of the hangar that the door has been punched off of. In sections.

Siren, with her blonde hair and green skin, looks like a hipster mermaid that has way too much fun being on dry land. Stranglehold is eight feet of badass babe in black. She's doing all the actual heavy lifting, quite literally, as she's in the process of tearing a hole through the side of the QueenJet that was set to spend the night here in Metropolis before heading back to Star City in the morning.

"You sure this is the right place?" Stranglehold asks, peeling back more of the metal that holds the plane together.

"Positive. Almost?" Siren shrugs from her seat on top of a stack of crates. She pops her gum. "Whatever. There's about seventeen more hangars here. I'm sure we'll find it! We have all night!"

Stranglehold rolls her eyes and punches another hole in the plane for a bit more leverage. "I gotta' stop workin' for peanuts."

These two are making a helluva lot of noise to be trying to do a crime. Sounds like neither one of them care about authorities or citizens on patrol or anything like that. They're probably prepared for whatever comes their way!

Grace Choi has posed:
    Peanuts. Grace likes peanuts. She's crunching them in a bag, right now, her score from Chaney's, as she's walking home in the middle of the night. And, feeling awake, she decided to take the longer way home, which took her past the aeronautics firm. Which, generally, was really quiet at this time of night. Dead quiet. The fact that there's squealing, screeching, of tearing metal - a sound that Grace is at least familiar with, has caught her attention.
    Grace is no hero. Not by any strech of the imagination. However. One of her friends happens to work at the firm that often comes to Chaney's, and he's a guard. A small little meta, with a rather minor ability to talk to animals. "Dammit," she curses to herself, balling a hand into a fist. "You're going to owe me a fucking nights worth of drinks, Griggs," she says under her breath, as she moves through the gate to investigate.
    She finds 'Griggs', the man in question, alive, amongst the two other guards after a bit of exploring. "Fuck," she says, grousing. Then, she rolls her shoulders, cracks her knuckles, readying for a fight as she heads further towards the sounds of tearing, rending metal.

Arsenal has posed:
Stranglehold tosses a huge chunk of plane out of the hangar and into the yard where it skids and scrapes across the concrete. She pulls herself up and into the plane, where more noises come from as she punches and tears her way through whatever's inside. It certainly sounds like she's doing the usual ransacking while searching for whatever it is they are after.

Siren looks bored as she takes her phone out and starts lining up beneath the light for a selfie. She sighs and tosses her hair a bit to get that 'look' she's looking for. She's in the middle of going full on duckface when a red arrow speeds into the hangar and stabs into the crate between Siren's legs. She barely has time to register what's happened before the blinking red light on the arrow goes green.

There's a sudden explosion sound and the arrival of a massive amount of red-tinted adhesive goop that overtakes and plasters Siren back against the wall and the crate. "UGH THE FUCK?!"

Arsenal drops down from above, giving another arrow a twirl and saluting with it. His backwards cap and stylish goggle shades glimmering in the light of the hangar. "You're gonna' need a serious filter for that selfie, girlfriend." Arsenal flashes a big ol' smile and is too busy gloating to notice Stranglehold's head popping back out of the plane. Eyes narrowed. Grim expression.

Grace Choi has posed:
    Grace puts out a foot to stop the huge chunk of plane that's skittering across the yard at her, and planting her backfoot into the ground, she ends up stopping it's force with pure muscle. She reaches down, picks up the chunk, and throws it back, full force, back at Strangehold in the meantime.
    Then, there's an explosion. She looks over at Arsenal, the cause of the explosion, and watching him briefly, she just shakes her head. "Great." She's used to fighting solo.
    She begins walking, not running, towards Stranglehold, since Roy seems to be taking on Siren well enough. She tells Arsenal, "I'd better not get hit from behind," telling him in no uncertain terms Siren's his responsibility.

Arsenal has posed:
Stranglehold doesn't even register that there's a chunk of plane headed back in her direction because she's too busy glaring at Arsenal and his backwards cap of douchebaggery. She gets smacked full on with the chunk of airplane and knocked back into the plane she was peeking out of with a pained groan of, "Motherfucker."

Arsenal barely registers the new arrival but since he's in full hero mode he just grins and watches Grace run. "I dunno. That's a pretty big target." Arsenal doesn't even realize that he's loading an arrow into his bow and raising it up. Well, maybe he does. He can't stop himself, though, because he's aiming right at Grace and then letting the arrow loose with the quickness towards Grace's backside.

Behind him, Siren's whispering a soft song with a voice that can only be described as hypnotic. At least, well, to the loudmouthed archer.

There's only a moment before Stranglehold punches her way out of the plane and crunches down to the cement floor of the hangar with her three-point supervillain landing. She looks furious but also takes a moment to size Grace up appreciatively. She lets out a low whistle and /then/ cracks her knuckles.

Meanwhile, in the midst of her soft song of hypnosis, Siren is trying to wriggle free of Arsenal's Sticky Stuff. It's not going well. At all.

Grace Choi has posed:
    Grace, too, is cracking her knuckles. She, however, is not dressed up in any sort of costume. She's in streetclothes. Which, might stand out to the two villians. "Griggs is a friend of mine," Grace says, flatly. "So. I guess that means now? I have get to show you what your spleen tastes like," cracking her own knuckles. It's then that the arrow tags her in her ass, and she snarls, looking back at Roy. "Do you even know how to aim that thing?" The arrow is pulled out, dropped on the ground as if it had no effect on her at all.
    Then, she turns towards Stranglehold, and just runs, straight at the other large woman, looking to do nothing more complex than crack her across the jaw. Hard.
    Stranglehold may have met her match. Grace isn't holding back. At all. Between having her night interrupted, and Arsenal's percieved misfire, she's starting to get a bit pissed off.

Arsenal has posed:
"Bring it on bit--!!"

Stranglehold can't even finish being smug and actually leaving herself open for the attack. She's used to being the biggest thing on the streets and the strongest and the most brickest of durableness. So she's ready to watch Grace's hand crumble against her jaw. Instead, she's out like a home run before she even crashes into the tail of the plane, goes through it and into the wall on the far end of the hangar. There's the sound of her body crashing into some more metal and eventually the noise dies down when she's doing nothing but laying there. Knocked the Eff Out.

Arsenal's going to his quiver and has another arrow yoinked out and he's aiming at Grace. "Hey, uh, kick ass punch. Now you might wanna' duck because I can't stop myself from trying to kill you." He doesn't look like he's struggling to not shoot another arrow at Grace because he's busy loading up that arrow and taking aim, firing it at her shoulder. There's probably a reason why he's not aiming for anything vital. He grimaces as he lets the arrow fly, though.

Siren's frustration with trying to sing and keep Roy hypnotized, while trying to pull herself free of the adhesive putty of stickiness /and/ the slight pause in which she watched her muscle get knocked the hell out in one punch is probably the moment that gave Roy enough of his mind back to be able to try and explain what's going down.

Grace Choi has posed:
    At least Roy is warning her, this time. And, with that warning, she's able to move far more quickly than a woman of her size ought to be able to move to dodge the oncoming arrow. She looks between Arsenal, then, and Siren, and cracks her knuckles again. "Oh, you're dead, bitch," she tells Siren.
    She knows, then, by what Roy is doing - or, being forced to do that she could easily be tricked into probably fighting Roy. So, instead she moves over to the plane, and she tears a small section of the already twisted steel off, and hurtles it directly at Siren's adhesived self. She's nowhere near Arsenal's skill at aiming, but, she's aiming to miss. Because otherwise it'd impale Siren. And she really wants to hit Siren.
    But, freaking the girl out and distracting her so she, or Roy, can close the distance? That will work. Probably.

Arsenal has posed:
"OH GOD NO!"

Siren clenches his eyes closed and grits her teeth, she's bracing for as much impact as she can being stuck to the wall and all. She doesn't realize she's not getting sliced in half with a piece of plane until it doesn't hit her. She slowly opens her eyes and realizes that she has been duped.

And that she stopped singing.

"... Shit."

The red arrow that's flying towards her face has been fitted with a small boxing glove and it collids with her face at the utmost of speed and power. He was pretty close when he shot that thing so the KO is quick and dirty.

"And the Boxing Glove Attack is Super Effective!" Arsenal takes a step back and brushes the imaginary dirt off his shoulders. "And the crowd goes wild!" Arsenal throws his hand into the air to wave at the crowd that doesn't exist before he turns to Grace. "Arsenal, the city's most kickass champion, takes home another win! This time with the assist by uh..." Arsenal takes a moment to try and quip up something clever. "A Street Tough Named Desire?" Helpless shrug?

Grace Choi has posed:
    "Well, you finally shot the right target, at least," Grace says, briskly. She reaches back her at her ass, frowning, before answering, "Grace Choi." She rolls her shoulders, looking first at one, then the other. "Friend of mine is unconscious over there. Jerks. So, Arsenal. You always go around meeting people by shooting them in the ass?"
    Grace folds her arms, pointedly, and suggests, "You really need to work on that, you want to run around in that." She nods towards the man's costume.

Arsenal has posed:
"Um, first of all, I look fly as a bird, baby. Don't hate." Roy takes the time to pose in his costume of awesome. He even reaches up to straighten the backwards cap a bit since it shifted in all of his quiver-reaching. He grins and leans on the heavily constructed bow

"And you cannot blame me for shooting you in the ass. Blame that one." He nods towards the stuck and silent Siren. "She's the one with the Golden Voice. Besides, your ass is huge. What else was I supposed to hit?" Arsenal just grins to show off the level of teasing. He saw what she did to Stranglehold and he is not trying to get punched to the moon.

Grace Choi has posed:
    "So, you got brains like friggin' Scarecrow?" Asks Grace, in retort to Roy. She adds, "I know plenty of guys, and girls, who happen to like my ass. Don't be jealous, whatever you said your name was. Red Arrow." Close enough for her. She begins to start to walk out of the place, asking, "So, you calling the cops? The Justice League? The Avengers? Some other group I've never heard of?"

Arsenal has posed:
"/Arsenal/."

Roy doesn't want to show the frown when she gets his name wrong but he does anyway and that's probably just the thing to let her know that she managed to get to him. He kick-steps a couple times to catch up to her. "Pfft. No way, Big and Tasty. I stopped the crime. Somebody else can handle the clean up." Or the homing arrow he left in the hangar will let the Green Arrow Clean Up Crew know what to come and take care of. He's good like that.

"Besides, my babysitter's off in an hour. I gotta' get home." Arsenal has no idea why he's being so candid with this person he just met. Weird. "So that gives us about 45 minutes to have a good time. You in?"

Grace Choi has posed:
    "You asking me if I want to screw you, or you asking me if I want to go hang with you at a bar?" Grace isn't rejecting the idea, though, so she's at least entertaining the thought. She unfolds her arms, and she starts to wander towards the exit, expecting Arsenal to follow. Still, she looks back at him, waiting for some clarification.
    "Huh. Never heard of a costumed hero with a babysitter. Something new everyday." But, she's not dissing it, or him.

Arsenal has posed:
"Whoa! Hey, I know I'm bringing sexy back but I just said I have to be home in an hour! Save the sex for our second kicking of ass team up, Grace." Arsenal grins and just wanders up to walk beside her. Seems like everything he's taking with a grain of salt.

"Bar, huh? I can do a bar. I can't drink anything." He reaches up to pull out the sober coin he's got hanging around his neck by way of metal chain. "But if you need a wingman..." Arsenal seems more than willing to step into those shoes.

"We'll just need to stop over in Dark Alley Number Nineteen so I can change. I look too good in this to slum it up at whatever dive bar you're takin' me to."

Roy reaches up to pat her on the shoulder. "... Any chance I can get a piggyback ride or...?"

Grace Choi has posed:
    "Sure," Grace says, charitably. "As long as I get to see how far I can throw you, afterwards." She smiles, sharply, guessing Roy won't take her up on that particular deal. She nods, "Sure." She seems a bit surprised, if not impressed, that Roy's willing to change and already show her his alternate identity. "Drinks not your thing?"

Arsenal has posed:
"Not anymore. I had issues." Arsenal leaves it at that. He's not too worried about this whole secret identity thing. He's pretty sure this'll lead to some one night stand shenanigans and he'll never see this big bruiser babe ever again. So he might as well lay most of the cards on the table. Or even see if he can play the sympathy card too.

"I got better though. And now I don't drink at all. But I've been meaning to test my mettle at some of these local watering establishments. Watching football isn't the same surrounded by teddy bears."

Grace Choi has posed:
    "Bit small for a wrestler, aren't you? Or, are you going to fake a tan and an accent and try and be a lucadore?" Grace smirks, amused at the thought of Roy getting in the ring with some of the bigger guys who are built like muscle machines. And, after a block or two of walking, she pushes open the door of one of the local bars as sirens begins to wail - likely to go pick up the two villians.
    Grace pushes into the bar and moves to flop into an empty table, siganling the waitress and ordering a dark ale for herself, and letting Roy - if he wants anything like water or whatever, to get that for himself.
    "Besides, doesn't playing dress up keep you busy enough? Or you the type who burns the candle at both ends?"

Arsenal has posed:
"I can hold my own!" Roy almost wants to wave his hand frantically. He's more of a martial artist than a wrestler but he knows what she's putting down. He follows her inside and is all good with keeping his identity shielding shades on and cops a seat at the table. "Dr. Pepper. Two lemons." He's just ordering this random ass drink that he's probably not even going to drink. "My candle's been burning on both ends since before I even knew I had a candle. Now my plate is overflowing but I gotta' do what I gotta' do, right? No room for error this time around."

Arsenal looks off for a moment. "Gotta' lot of stuff to make up for."

Grace Choi has posed:
    Grace eyes Roy, before she nods some. "Yeah, know how that is. Except, I got a lot of stuff to - let's say, payback. Or, a few people to." She shrugs, easily then starts drinking the dark ale as if it were a Dr. Pepper instead. She kicks her feet up on the opposite chair, "Where'd you learn to shoot?" She asks, bluntly. "Pretty damn good shot. When you're aiming at the right people. Fucking boxing gloves." She snorts a laugh.

Arsenal has posed:
Arsenal grins as his Dr. Pepper arrives, in a glass, with two lemons on it. It's the weirdest drink. He's about to bring it up to his lips when the question is asked. "Ah, well, let's see. Nobody's ever asked me to tell 'em my origin story before..." Arsenal grins and leans back in his chair, setting the glass down and grinning ever so toothily.

"It all started when I was a sparkle in my father's eye..."