12594/Laboratory Mayhem

Laboratory Mayhem
Date of Scene:	28 December 2020
Location:	Bushwick
Synopsis:	Some bad guys attack a lab. Slipstream, Nightengale and The Falcon intervene.
Cast of Characters:	Falcon, Nightingale, Slipstream

---

Falcon has posed:
Out in Bushwick there's a small laboratory complex known as Spider Systems Engineering. SSE designs and builds top secret microchips used in encrypting communication devices for military, espionage and counter intelligence personnel. They recently won a bidding war to provide their chips to SHIELD. That's not their only source of income, however, as they're working on a distribution method for the mutant "cure", hoping to get the contract should it come up.

Unfortunately for them, however, one of their rivals really doesn't want to lose any more money to SSE. Doctor Hans Muller, owner and head scientist at Muller Labs, has decided to shut down SSE permanently and with force. After surfing the dark web for quite some time he managed to hire a group of mercenaries to destroy SSE's building and some hackers to attack any data they might have stored offsite. It's brute force on both their parts, for sure.

Right now the mercenaries are pulling up to SSE. They're in a trio of black SUVs, all armed to the teeth with high end rifles, pistols, body armor and helmets. They've also got some plastic explosives on them so they can bring the whole building down.

Nightingale has posed:
     It might be a chilly day for flying, but at least the weather was somewhat clear. By 'clear', one can say it's just 'not snowing'. That was more than enough reason for at least one mutant to choose going home under their own power, rather than take the bus or call an Uber. Drawing a rather dramatic-looking black hooded opera cloak with red velvet lining around her, Shannon works her wings through the slits in the back for flight. She's otherwise wearing dark blue jeans, a black turtleneck sweater, and soft black boots well suited for the weather. She's also got a little brown leather bag tied to her belt, which looks well-worn but well-cared for and loved.

     Spreading her wings, she takes a couple quick running steps and is airborne, spiraling higher and higher. High enough, it seems, to see the events unfolding below.

     "Merde."

     The smart thing to do would be to fly the hell out of there. But did she dare leave without at least a little bit of recon, so she could let those who could actually -do- something about it know what was going on?

     "Frak. This is going to be a long day...."

Slipstream has posed:
There is a flash of blue contrails upon the rooftops as Slipstream lands in a three point crouch after he blinks upon the scene. From across the street, the youngest and newest Avenger is wearing a black Avengers bomber jacket, a solid black shirt and a pair of black and blue neon styled pants that matches his top of the line speed repellent sneakers.

A small gold floating robot that looks like Snowball from Overwatch floats down over his shoulder, squinting through her LED face plate with a N.N expression. "Looks like the intelligence was right on the money, SB. Look at those suckers. All hopped up like wannabe Call of Duty bad guys. What's a good name for them?"

Doot!

"You're right. Gravy Seals. Ha. Good one Snowball."

With a twist of his Legionnaire flight ring on his hand, he feels the technology synch to his DNA as he starts to float. Unlocking the ice gun from his hip, he checks the battery source to ensure it's full, then squints his eyes. "Alright, Avenger channels are pinged with my location. Away message from Tony says he's in .. Tahiti with.. someone named 'Starla'. Nice. Cap is in Africa .. Janet is at a fashion show in Hollywood. Nat is .. not online. Figures. Welp Snowball. Let's yeet ourselves into the hospital again."

Doot Doot!

"Have some faith in me Snowball! What kinda best friend slash Artificial Intelligent health bot are you?"

Doot?

"That kind. Right. I love you too. Yah-yeet!"

As channels his speedy powers combined with his flight ring, there's a lash of blue blazing from over the top of the roof, followed by a large chunk of spiked ice firing from his gun for the backtire of the van. It has a SHUNT sound. The kind that would fire out of an air rifle.

"Hey guys! Sorry for your bad day, but I still gotta use the tag line. Avengers Assemble!"

Tony would be so proud of him.

Falcon has posed:
The guard at the front desk of SSE is on the ball enough to notice the unexpected vehicles approaching. His hand hovers over the emergency button under his desk until he spots one of the mercs' weapons and starts smashing the button before drawing his pistol and ducking for cover. The glass front doors don't last long as the lead truck smashes into it and continues forward to crush the desk.

That button pushing didn't send a message to just the local authorities. SHIELD was informed as well. And it just so happens that Sam Wilson, AKA The Falcon, was flying over the city on his way to a training exercise. When he gets word that SSE is under attack the location of the building appears on the augmented reality display in his goggles to let him know where to go. Twisting smoothly through the air the airman accelerates to try to get to the location as swiftly as possible, which won't take long considering he's traveling at over two hundred fifty miles per hour.

The rear vehicle's tire gets shredded, just plain taken out completely, and the SUV's driver is forced to slam on the brakes a few car lengths back from his intended spot outside of SSE. Guys start pouring out of the trucks, four to each one, trying to ascertain where the threat came from. Aside from the guys already in the building, they get out and start trying to get to their positions inside so that they can plant their explosives.

Nightingale has posed:
     "Oh, HELL NO."

     The minute shots started flying, Shannon made for the nearest rooftop to take shelter. Whoever was down there, meant business! This wasn't something ye olde geranium to the cranium was going to solve! And this was dangerously close to the lab that had so recently seen so much activity, too! Crouching down as low as she can on the rooftop overlooking the whole scene unfolding down below, she tucks her wings in neatly behind her, flattening herself down as far as possible to present the lowest profile and maintain relatively low visibility.

     She was one person, relatively lightly armed, against many experienced mercenaries with high-powered guns.

     But it looked as if she might have allies. When she heard the SHOOP of the ice gun landing its shot on the vehicle, she's immediately got her head on a swivel to see who fired. Whoever it was, had fired against the mercenaries.

     The enemy of my enemy is my friend. At least for now.

Slipstream has posed:
As he hits the ground at neck breaks speeds, Slipstream is true to his name as he shunts off just a quick with another blue burst of speedy. The world rushes past him slowly as he moves like lightning in a bottle through it. He draws his gun up again and fires off another blast, nailing the first man out of the van square in the chest. Even if he's wearing ballistic armor, he's taking an ice shard at sonic speeds and it's going to leave a dent. "One down, many more to go! Hup!"

There's another quick pair of blinks as he sweeps another gunmen off his feet, followed by a crushing punch to the top of his head on the way down to the ground. Thud! Crack. "Woo! Snowball, blizzard that van! Don't let them get out!"

Doot-da-Doo!

There is the sound of whirling from within the gold robot as she flies up in the air over a fan, swallowing the condensation of air around her, mixes it up, then sprays it outwards in a beautiful mushroom arc upon one of the vans to coat it in a thick shield of ice. Thick. Her faceplate is glowing bright red now. Angry face! --.--

As he lands once more, he is practically vibrating as he holds his gun up at the last two that are exiting the van he just wrecked. "Hit the ground, spread 'em! You're under arrest! Don't make turn you into Otter Pops!" His thumb flicks a switch on his ice rifle. "Because I'm thinking you all will look great in grape."

Falcon has posed:
The front desk guard doesn't seem to be in the fight, considering he has an SUV parked on top of him. Bad luck, that. The mercs in the building, however, split into pairs. People inside are freaking out and some are trying to leave but the front door's destroyed and they have to go out the back or side which sets off another alarm in the building and oh my god this is the worst day of work ever for most of them. The bad guys don't seem to care about the regular citizens, only about accomplishing their mission.

Outside, one of the SUVs is frozen pretty much solid, at least on the outside. One of the guys inside has the bright idea to try to shoot through the windshield, the bullets punching through glass and ice together. A magazine or so from his weapon might shake things loose enough for the crew inside to escape.

The two guys by the vehicle that had it's tire taken out turn to look at Slipstream. Rather than give up easily they move to raise and fire their weapons at the young man.

From out of the sky the Falcon dives down at breakneck speeds, wings outstretched as he sails just a few feet over the ground until he finds himself inside the SSE building with the four mercenaries in there. The metallic wings go vertical and Sam's submachine guns spring into his hands so he can open up on one of the pairs of bad guys as they're getting their explosives ready.

Nightingale has posed:
     Two to one was still not fair odds. That was something Shannon could not and would not stand for--especially when it was someone who had potentially just helped out a /lot/ of mutants, saving them from at least getting shot, or worse... 'cured'.

     The sound of large, feathery wings beating the air can be heard as she takes to the air once more, spiraling higher and higher. Her ascent is paused as she catches sight of... someone with large, metallic wings? Yes, wings not so terribly unlike her own, except they did not look organic. Either that was one unusual mutation, or she was looking at some rather intriguing bit of technology.

     That same person also dove right inside the stricken lab building. She hoped and prayed it was to take on the mercenaries inside. Because if not, this could get messy, fast.

     Ascending just a little bit further, she stops, and snaps her wings inwards, diving down out of the sky and taking aim at the two mercs facing down Drake. At the last possible second, she unfurls her wings again, slowing herself down and bringing her feet up to bear in what could best be termed a flying drop-kick.

     Two mercs were about to have a very, very bad day.

Slipstream has posed:
As one enemy combatant appears to be drop-kicked from above, the next gunman is met with a sonic speed charged uppercut beneath the jaw, followed by a second wide swinging punch to the solar plexus as he blinked out of existance and reappeared in a flash of blue light. It appears that Slipstream, though a jokester, isn't messing around when it comes to potentially harming innocents. He gives the mutant girl a glance for a moment, then gives her a two fingered salute across the brow before he moves to the next van.

"Nuh uh, guys. You don't get to leave the house! Snowball, put them to sleep!"

The little gold robot gives another whirl as she continues to pour on the ice as she draws the cold air from from her. With it being winter, the science that makes her ability go is remarkably faster. As the gunmen shoots through the windows, she looks to replace it with another thick layer. At some point, it may look like a giant ice pod in the middle of the road.

As he glances down at his wrist communicator as it chirps, he looks back to the building and the chaos within. "Woah. Is that The Falcon?" His eyes widen. "YO FALCON! I AM A HUGE FAN OF YOURS!" He shouts from the street.

Falcon has posed:
After the initial burst of gunfire inside the building, there's a few louder pops as the other pair of mercenaries try to take out the Falcon. Luckily, he's able to bring up his bulletproof wings in time to stop their bullet before returning fire and quieting the villains. Once that's done he calls out to the young man, "BIG AVENGERS FAN!" But his work's not quite done yet. He checks to make sure the explosives haven't been armed before heading for the security desk. There, he pulls the guard out from under the rubble and starts checking him over for injuries, his wings folding back into their backpack.

"Nice work, you two. Glad you two were here, who knows if any of these guys might've hurt some more people or gotten away?" he calls out through the wreckage of the front door to the people outside. "SHIELD's on the way, local police and EMS as well. Going to pick up these guys for interrogation and prosecution."

Nightingale has posed:
     Shannon returns the salute, flashing Drake an impish little grin as she gets to her feet and dashes for the nearest source of concealment. But, as it turns out, she needn't have worried. Almost as quick as the shooting started, it stopped. All was quiet, that deathly stillness immediately following a battle. It was the sort of silence she shouldn't know, not at her age, and not ever.

     But it was one she knew all too well.

     Common sense dictated she should bug out of there, get clear while the getting was good. But there was a stronger calling. There were injured, and she could not ignore them.

     Peeking inside, she sees where the Falcon is, right next to the guard. Approaching, with her wings tucked in behind her and yet relaxed, she smiles, crouchihg down by the guard. "Hi," she says quietly. "If you'll let me, I'm willing to help." A quick glance is given to Sam, though, one eyebrow flicking briefly upwards in query.

Slipstream has posed:
"He has no clue who I am." Drake side whispers to Shannon with a grin on his face.

Looking over to the iced over van, he gives a wave at the shadowy figures within who are probably panicking, and freezing to death despite their body armor. It's sub zero temperatures to create the ice barrier. As he 'fist bumps' one of Snowball's propellers, she lands on his back and docks herself on a small charging port that he wears over his jacket.

When Falcon steps outside, he salutes the older hero. "Hello sir! Agent Slipstream of the Avengers. I've alerted Captain America and Iron Man but both of them are not available. They'll at least get a mission recap. Is it cool if I get an autograph from you, or a selfie?"

Falcon has posed:
When the young lady approaches and offers him help, Sam nods his head at her, "Sure. I'd just stabilize his spine at this point, didn't detect anything life threatening, but with him out cold I dodn't want to risk a head or neck injury until we can get him in a C-Collar and put him on a spine board." Still looking at Shannon he goes on, "Feels like he broke some ribs and his shoulder's dislocated, but I don't want to try reducing it until he's in a hospital setting."

Looking over at the young man Falcon nods his head, cracking a smile, "Alright! Good to know they'll be kept in the loop." He looks at the robot, then at the frozen vehicle, then shrugs his shoulders, "Selfie's cool, man."

Nightingale has posed:
     Shannon just shakes her head, smiling at Sam. "You won't need those, but I'll be heading for the clinic after." She pauses, glancing over the guard, pursing her lips brieftly. "Probably still couldn't hurt to have him looked at after this, though."

     With that, she closes her ehes, resting one hand on the guard's forehead, the other on his chest. Her breathing becomes slow and even, and for a moment, one might mistake her for a statue of an angel. But a statue wouldn't make crackling sounds, like bones snapping one by one. A statue's breath wouldn't shift from even, to increasingly ragged with each little -snap-.

     And a statue definitely wouldn't have bruises appearing out of nowhere, while they vanished from the guard.

     The only sound she makes is a slight yelp, as her right shoulder is yanked out of place, yet the guard's is somehow shifted back into its proper alignment.

     "Good news, at least. His spine wasn't injured, but he'd -had- a concussion." Her voice has a dreamlike, if slightly strained quality about it, as she finally moves her hands away and opens her eyes. "I'd still get him checked out, just to be sure I got it all."

Slipstream has posed:
"Cool." Drake says as he blinks next to Falcon, holds his phone up and flashes the peace sign before he clicks it. "Thanks Falcon! I'm still surprised you haven't joined the Avengers yet. I mean, you're on 'the list' that Ironman is always waving around when talking about new recruits. You should give him a call. Cap speaks highly about you."

Giving a long stretch of his body to crack a few joints, he gives a few high steps with his knees to keep himself limbered up. "Nice seeing you again Angel-Wings." He has no clue what she goes by.

"I should get going through seeing how SHIELD is now involved. I'm sure I can find a cat stuck in a tree, or maybe Door Dash Tony's lunch."

Falcon has posed:
"You okay?" Sam asks after watching Shannon do her thing with the patient. "You didn't just... didn't hurt yourself somehow, did you?" There's a lot of concern in his voice as he looks the woman over to make sure that she's alright herself.

When it comes time for the photo the Falcon doesn't move much, but he does stand a little straighter. He tells Drake, "You're welcome. If I'm on the list he should call me, right?" His voice has a hint of humor in it. "Take care of yourself out there."

By now there's a Quinjet over the scene and police cars and ambulances pulling in. The cavalry is on its way, after all.

Nightingale has posed:
     "It's unfortunately how my healing gift works," Shannon explains, her voice a tiny bit strained. "Doesn't feel the greatest but it gets the job done. I'm hoping they'll let mutants study for the state EMT exam so by summer, I won't be needing to do this quite so much."

     Shannon smiles lightly at both of them, but particularly looking over at Drake, her eyebrows lofted in a hint of surprise. "Guess it -has- been a while. Name's Shannon. Sometimes called Nightingale." She pushes herself to her feet, her eyes briefly closed to ward off the pain, her lips pressed tightly together. Thankfully, she -can- walk, at least. "I'll be okay. There's a clinic close by, the head medic was a mentor to me. I'll be fine by suppertime. Promise."

     She failed to mention the lecture she was likely to get in the process.

     Hazards of the job.

Slipstream has posed:
"You should call him. Mister Stark appreciates aggressive business tactics as well as butt kissing. He loves bitcoins and his favorite whiskey is Macallan. Anything else is considered 'poor folk moonshine." Drake is being serious. Like, really serious. "So, now you have two conversation starters for him." His lips turn upwards into an amused grin.

"Oh. Hey Nightengale. I meet so many people with wings now it's like .. a blur." He motions between the two of them. Falcon and Shannon. "See, both got wings. Literally can't tell you apart."

Black Guy
Blonde Girl

His shoulders lift upwards with a bit of a goofy shrug, grinning. "Okay, so .. if you two got this .. then .. I'm gonna get going. Ice will melt in twenty-minutes by the way, thirty at most and ten minutes has already kinda ticked by. I'm sure they're gonna be riled up like an angry nest of hornets. Deuces!"

With a blue blink of light, he's gone, skipping down the street before launching upwards into the air with a rumble of sonic waves in his wake. Up. Up. And .. away.