11438/Mugging For the Cameras

Mugging For the Cameras
Date of Scene:	07 May 2020
Location:	Times Square, Midtown
Synopsis:	Just a couple'a superheroes out on the town...
Cast of Characters:	Volt, Nightingale

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Volt has posed:
Following some phone chatter, Drake - or perhaps better known as Volt at the moment - has set up camp atop a tall building surrounding the ever-busy Times Square. He assured his companion that he'd make his location very obvious for her. He knows she'd be flying in. The solution is quite obvious.

A few arcs of brilliant blue lightning streak into the sky on a vertical axis. The ground doesn't often blast lightning into the clouds. It should be relatively obvious, especially as the horizon darkens on march to late evening.

Citizens down below are likely to see flashes of light. But amidst the general lights of Times Square, it could be a little hard to place. They're unlikely to be aware of the costumed individual periodically firing a bolt of raw energy into the heavens.

Nightingale has posed:
     As the sun sets, it paints the clouds in brilliant hues of crimson, fire, and twilight, Nature's stunning backdrop to the end of the day. With such a flashy, showy sunset, it would be very easy to not only miss the bolts of lightning shooting into the blue, but the winged, ebon-clad figure winging their way towards that mysterious beacon. With a soft rustling of feathers, that figure lands next to Volt. From the neck down, she is entirely in a very form-fitting catsuit, with little for an opponent to catch on to--and excellent for stealth in the night if need be. Her blonde hair is pulled back in a bun tightly at the back of her head--even the little blue braid with its three silver beads is caught up in the style, leaving nothing to be accidentally caught--or otherwise.

     Smiling at her compatriot, she chuckles lightly. "You weren't kidding about making it obvious. It works."

Volt has posed:
Electricity has a way of being its own lightsource. So catching sight of the catsuitted birdgirl isn't difficult for someone paying attention. So when he spots the figure that could only (probably!) be Shannon, Volt ceases casting the bolts into the sky. And, thankfully, expectations are met. "I work with what I've got," he muses.

Visored gaze travels over her figure in the formfitting attire, and a brow quirks. "You're.. gonna turn some heads, with or without the wings," he notes with a grin.

Nightingale has posed:
     Shannon blushes, and grins, even the tips of her ears turning pink. She raises a black-gloved hand to brush a stray wisp of pale gold away from her eyes. "It's simple, and practical. Plus, by now it's already sort of, well... 'me'." Glancing down over the edge of the roof, she scans the general area. So far, it looked like the normal hustle and bustle of the city, with nothing remarkable to otherwise be seen. "With any luck," she murmurs softly. "...we won't be needed."

Volt has posed:
Obviously Volt has a different priority in costuming. At least, in /this/ costuming. It earns a small smirk from him, and he moves to the edge of the rooftop to peer down. "Being needed isn't really the point of this," he notes. "It's reminding people that they're safe. Being an image." He leans back from the edge to turn and face her again. And with a more teasing smile, he bumps his knuckles towards her midsection. "S'why I suggested what I did, in what you wear."

Nightingale has posed:
Shannon cracks a smile, meeting his knuckles with a fistbump of her own. "Sorry, I'm used to trying to keep things on the down low, ya know? I'm not someone showy like Superman, or Wonder Woman, or any of those. I'm just... me." Still, she nods, and smiles somewhat, thinking of the times that, costume or no, she's been that image. An angel flying in to guide people out of trouble, or to heal the wounded if need be. "But... yeah, I kind of get what you mean, too. Me, it's less the clothes, and more the wings. People see the wings, they think angel, and the rest works itself out from there."

Volt has posed:
"It's the clothes," replies Volt simply. "A citizen fighting crime, wings or not, is a vigilante. A person fighting crime in a costume is a superhero. It's an important difference. One, people expect will protect them and see them as their top priority. The other, they're a loose cannon who might just focus more on the criminal than the innocent lives in danger." He plucks a cylindrical device from his belt, rolling the compact object neatly between his fingers. "I'm not trying to lecture ya or anything, but... to me? I'm not just trying to save lives and stop crime. I'm trying to save hearts. Give people confidence to go on with their lives."

Nightingale has posed:
Shannon smiles warmly and rests her head on Volt's shoulder for a moment, looking out over Times Square. "Every time I go out there," she whispers. "That's the first thing on my mind. Get innocents clear of danger. It's never mattered if I had a costume on or not before. Maybe it should."

Glancing down at his fingers, she lifts her chin a little bit, her smile widening. "What's that?" she asks, one brow lofting. From a well-hidden loop somewhere on the waist of her catsuit, a worn brown leather bag dangles, with who knows what inside. It's all the equipment she has with her. Come to think of it, she never seems to be without the thing.

Volt has posed:
"Sometimes citizens need to see the 'uniform' to know they're safe. Even if the uniform is different for every person," Volt supplies. "And it's not just because I'd love to see what you choose to look like."

His head turns to sneak a kiss atop her scalp.

When her attention settles on the device in his hand, he smiles widely, himself. "Lemme show ya."

Carefully, he dips his shoulder beneath her head to begin towards the edge of the rooftop. Every step he takes accelerates his movement. Suddenly, he leaps from the rooftop in confident Y-pose. Twisting mid-air, the device is brought forward - and the cap disengages in a flash, discharging a grappling hook tethered with zipline. The descent is smooth, steady, and rapid - but controlled. And when he's several feet from the asphalt below, the hook disengages and swiftly retracts into the device.

Volt lands neatly on his boots in the alley beside the building, cape aflutter as it settles around him.

Nightingale has posed:
     In the alley, a group of little kids have found a clear spot on the asphalt. A circle has been drawn with chalk, and three kids--two young boys, and one girl, all ranging from age 7 to 10--are engaging in the timeless pasttime of marbles. When Volt lands just a few feet away from them, three pairs of young eyes are immediately fixed on him, all opened as wide as dinner plates. The game is forgotten, and likely there is to be some question as to whose prize shooter marble was whose later. But for right now, there are more interesting things afoot.

     How often do kids come face to face with a real live superhero?

     All three kids, in jeans, t-shirts, and sneakers, just stare for several moments at the emerald and ebony wonder that seems to have materialized out of thin air near them. The youngest, a little girl with fiery red hair and green eyes, is the only one to speak up. "Hi!" she chimes in. Without a word, she goes to the little chalk circle, picks up what must surely be her prize shooter marble, and ambles on over to Volt, till she's toe to toe with him. She just peers up at him for a moment, and then extends her little hand upwards. Resting on her palm is the marble, which she offers to him.

     Shannon, meantime, wings her way to the top of the building just next to the tableau taking place, landing with very little sound. Her smile widens as she looks on, watching to see what Volt will do.

Volt has posed:
The grapple device is slotted into his belt again, along with the myriad additional tools. And from there, Volt gladly puts his attention on the youngsters he's landed near.

The girl offers up a marble, and Volt lowers to a kneel in front of her. With a grin, he takes the marble between green-gloved fingers, lifting it to make a grand show of inspecting its quality. "I don't think I've ever, ever seen a perfect marble before. Not even once," he lavishes as he turns it a little this way and that. His free hand pinches the edge of his cape, and he brings the material close to 'polish' the smooth surface for her, before gently placing it back in her hand. "You've gotta keep that one safe for me, 'kay?"

Nightingale has posed:
     The angel above looks on, with a smile as wide as the sky spreading across her face. She couldn't be any prouder if she tried, and even has to brush a little tear away. If she'd had a moment like that when she was a child, there was no doubt it would have been something she'd remember for a lifetime. Had she given that, then, to the little girl who approached her in the Salem Center hospital, with innocent and simple curiosity about her wings?

     The little redhead just nods, a very solemn nod that ends with an equally brilliant smile; by the looks of it, she's had a visit from the tooth fairy recently, with one of her top front two teeth missing. She tucks the marble away in her pocket, much to the envy and admiration of her peers, and... she just throws her arms around Volt's neck for a big hug. "Okay, mister, I will." There's a little whistle to her voice, with the missing front tooth playing a part.

Volt has posed:
Volt blinks when he's hugged. He didn't expect that. But he's quick to pat the girl's back lightly. "I know you will. You guys should start getting home, though! It'll be dark out soon!"

And once he's extracted from the kid, he tilts his head back to peer towards the winged girl watching him. He shoots her a smirk. Look at her, hanging back. She was supposed to follow him down!

Nightingale has posed:
     The little redhead reluctantly steps back, curling her fingers around that perfect marble. But what comes next is the sound of large, feathery wings working through the air as the angel in black glides to the ground, landing just behind Volt. Realizing she must cut an imposing, perhaps intimidating figure to the children, she smiles softly, crouching down to stay on eye level with them.

     "He's right, you know. Your families will be worried about you. Who knows, maybe you'll see us around again one day!" With a grin and a wink at the kids, she stands to her full height, ruffling her wings and stepping back. The wee ones linger just long enough to gather up their marbles, and then scamper on out of there, chattering excitedly amongst themselves.

     This would no doubt be an encounter they would remember for the rest of their lives.

Volt has posed:
Volt is years beyond predicting what children will do, certainly when met with an imposing, winged figure. He just steps around Shannon when she hunkers low, so as to not.. well, have his rear right in front of her. His hand brushes her shoulder as he moves by, until he's simply standing beside her patiently.

As the kids run off, he tilts his head to look down at Shannon. "Random," he remarks with a wry little smile.

Nightingale has posed:
     A wry smile tugs the corners of Shannon's lips upwards as she tilts her head to look up at him, leaning back against him with a light chuckle and a sigh. "Perhaps. Though 'random' is also running smack into one of your biggest heroes in Salem Center, when you're coming out of the music shop, and they're going in." She laughed softly to herself, and shakes her head.

Volt has posed:
"Whaaat? I don't think I ever saw you coming out of a music store," Volt teases as he starts for the exit of the alley. But he pauses to turn back around to her. "This makes sense to you, right? The reason I'm doing this? What we're trying to do?"

Nightingale has posed:
     Chuckling softly, Shannon wraps her arms around him for a fierce hug. "If I'd have known you existed then, that might have been the case." She reaches up to run her gloved thumb across his cheek, and nods. "It does make sense. Those kids are a perfect example. They'll know they've got someone looking out for them. So would anyone who saw you."

Volt has posed:
Volt loops his arms around her waist for a tight squeeze, happily holding the girl in embrace. What she says gets a bright smile; just the sort of thing he likes to hear. And that smile takes a playful note as his head tilts forward, nudging his brow to hers, close enough that eyelashes may brush. "We're gonna get you a nice, flashy, fun costume made. Something that's uniquely you."

Nightingale has posed:
     Nightingale lets out a contented sigh as their brows touch for just a few moments, smiling softly. "But what's wrong with this one?" she murmurs. However, at this proximity, if Volt were to look into her eyes, he would be able to see the creative wheels a-turnin' in her mind. "Well... alright, maybe something in white and blue...?"

Volt has posed:
Volt doesn't answer her first question. She knows the answer already! He can see clearly that her mind is already working out more fun, personalized alternatives. And what she suggests gets an enthusiastic grin. "Definitely good choices," he murmurs back to her.

Just then, some commotion can be heard beyond the alleyway; shouts, the sounds of panic.

Volt steps back from Shannon to peer around the corner, fully expecting her to join him. Or she might go aerial, who knows?

It looks like a mugging attempt has gone wrong. They usually prefer it to be quick and discreet, but this woman went with her first reaction: freaking out. And that drew the attention of everyone present. So now the mugger has drawn a gun, waving it wildly at the crowd of people in Time's Square.

Nightingale has posed:
     Shannon frowns deeply as she sees the situation. Her look has gone from warm and sweet, to cold as ice within seconds. It's plain she's been in situations where she's had to face down firearms or possibly worse. Going aerial would be a bad idea. One stray bullet, one innocent hurt would undo everything the pair were trying to do here.

     But if she could get close enough....

     "The mugger's spooked enough," she murmurs quietly. "But if I can get their attention on me, I've got a shot at disarming him before someone can get hurt, and you can get his mark out of there..."

Volt has posed:
Volt turns his head to her with a raised eyebrow. Visor and all, the look is pure skepticism. "What, you got a high-powered magnet on ya somewhere? Indiana Jones whip? You're more equipped to swoop in and grab a victim to carry to safety. I'm the one with ranged powers." He gently elbows towards her midsection. "A bird person shooting out of an alleyway ain't subtle. People are already freaked. We're probably not gonna go unnoticed, unless you're asking me to be a distraction."

Nightingale has posed:
     Shannon shakes her head. "No equipment. Just a first aid kit and my own two hands. But if there's a way we can take that mugger down without a stray bullet flying, I'm all for it." She purses her lips, thinking for a moment before going on. "I may not be able to carry an adult to safety, unless she's a wisp of a thing closer to an older child. But I'll try. What's the game plan, then?"

     Had there been other lessons she'd learned, perhaps not fully sanctioned by the school...?

Volt has posed:
Volt asides, "That won't work, either. You take her away, he's got a dozen more to point a gun at." The crowd isn't making it easier to get a clear look at things, either. "So the plan? Be a hero."

With that, Volt breezes out into the open. The flashy garb is immediately noticed, not only by the panicky mugger, but by the general population. People are starting to run for cover rather than gawk at this point, thankfully. And, naturally, the gun is pointed squarely at Volt. His gloved hands lift, palms outturned modestly, as if trying to calm down a startled horse.

Nightingale has posed:
     "You nut!" Shannon doesn't even have a split second to facepalm, before she's going right up into the air. Okay, so maybe it was time for plan B. That lesson she'd learned months ago would have to be put to use another day. With the mugger's attention fixed squarely on Volt, there was no way he would see the winged woman flying higher and higher into the sky, as if she was leaving the area.

     However, Volt would likely know better....

Volt has posed:
Volt is pretty sure he knows what she's doing. He hopes she's going to do it /well/, and not get him shot, however. "Aaalright, bud'," he says on approach. Each step is slow, cautious, and patient. "So you're havin' a bad day. Doesn't have to escalate. Right now, you're looking at armed robbery."

"SHUT UP!"

"It's a felony, but way less severe than attempted murder. Everyone's already seen ya. You do a little time, you get out on good behavior, life goes on for ya."

The mugger frantically takes a couple steps back. The original victim woman scurries to hide behind a posterboard. No, it isn't good cover, but it puts her out of sight.

"Come on, dude. Look at the costume. You know I got those powers," Volt continues, easing slowly closer.

The mugger continues backing up, muttering repeated, panicked profanities under his breath.

"What's the deal? Hard month for you? Someone leaning on you? You owe money? What's up?"

Nightingale has posed:
     The mugger would never see it coming. Volt, however, would, and hopefully have time to dodge to the side.

     A dark speck grows larger and larger as it plummets out of the sky, with a trajectory aimed right for the mugger. As it grew in size, it became apparent that it was Nightingale--and she was, for once, on the attack. It looked for a moment as if she might hit the ground and become a casualty herself.

     But, as she snapped her wings open at the last possible second, it immediately became apparent this would not be the case. She angles her body so that her feet are now aimed squarely at the mugger's back, with her wings acting like air brakes to slow down her breakneck speed. There is a /THUD/ as her feet connect with the mugger's back, and the sound of varied colorful metaphors as he winds up pitching forward, arms and legs all akimbo--and his face planted in the pavement.

     That was bound to leave a mark.

     The gun clatters from his hand, as surprise and the impact with the ground causes him to lose his grip on the weapon. Shannon tucks herself into a roll, coming up standing right near Volt. A quick sweep of her foot, and she knocks the gun out of the mugger's range, with a smile to Volt.

Volt has posed:
Volt doesn't blame her. She'd have no way of knowing whether or not the dude would willingly surrender. He was hoping they were approaching that point, however. After all, that's part of what heroing is to him; giving people hope for a better future. And whatever the mugger was about to say was abruptly cut short by a zealous divebombing dropkick. Volt tilts aside to angle out of the gun's trajectory just in case, but it's not necessary. Seems he dropped the gun anyway.

With the crook on the ground and the gun scooted away, Volt begins moving forward. Already the throngs of civilians are cheering for the speedy response to the danger. A set of ziptie cuffs are retrieved from his belt, and the dazed mugger's arms are pulled behind his back. "Don't leave the gun on the ground," he calls to the winged wonder. He won't explain why, but hopefully she'll either realize why soon or just pick it up anyway. Explaining would invite problems, if not now, then later.

Nightingale has posed:
     Sighing softly, Shannon can't shake the feeling she messed up. She kneels briefly by the mugger, her wings brought around to shield the lower half of her face like an impromptu mask. "I'm sorry," she murmurs softly to him, her eyes glistening with sorrow.

     Volt's call to her, however, snaps her out of it, and she nods, rising and turning quickly to pick up the gun. Her upper lip curls slightly in distaste as she hefts the weapon in her hand, glancing it over. Ah, yes, the safety. She slides that into place and glances over at her compatriot, nodding quickly, and waiting to see what he needs next.

Volt has posed:
Ties are secured, and Volt lifts to his full height. Once upright again, he turns out to the crowd and waves with a bright smile. No small amount of cameraphone flashes begin, lighting up Time's Square. He glances quickly to the girl and notes her apprehensive state. Moving closer to her side, he sets his free, non-waving hand over her shoulder. As discreetly as he can manage, he murmurs aside to her, "This is the part where you smile," teasingly. And after a beat, his hand leaves her shoulder in favor of reaching to relieve her of the gun. It isn't that he doesn't trust her with it. It's that he isn't sure what her status with the local police might be, and the gun has to be turned over.

"If you need to bail, I get it," he adds. "But they wanna see confidence."

Nightingale has posed:
     The wings stay in front of her face, the only mask Shannon has at the moment. She hasn't got any visors or anything she can put on at the moment, not like Volt. Plus, her wings in place right now also serve the purpose of hiding her hand as Volt relieves her of the gun. Thankfully, she had gloves on anyways, so no prints can be traced back to her. She murmurs quietly to him, "How do I show that, and cover my tailfeathers, too?"

Volt has posed:
Volt immediately looks confused. "You have tailfeathers?," he asks before realizing what she meant. A quick shake of his head, and he refocuses. "Guess you can't. That's why I said if ya need to bail, you can. But we should get you something you /can/ wear here, for these people. Confidently. Proudly."

His own visor doesn't exactly do more than tint the upper half of his face in a vibtant green hue. Well, it does other technological things, but as far as discretionary purposes, there are none. "Police are coming. I'm gonna deal with'em."

Nightingale has posed:
     For now, her face has been mostly shielded. But now, Shannon really -does- have to fly. She squeezes Volt's hand briefly, leaning in to whisper, "Next time, the beach."

     With that, she turns away from the camera phones, spreads her wings, and with a few strong downstrokes, takes to the air. Part of her wishes she didn't have to, but the sensible part wins out.

     However, when she is high enough to be only a dark blur in someone's cameraphone, she stops and looks down at Volt, smiling to herself. There would be other times, but for now, it was time to make like a bread truck and haul buns.