12674/Demons And Aliens
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| Demons And Aliens | |
|---|---|
| Date of Scene: | 23 January 2021 |
| Location: | Greenwich Village, Manhattan |
| Synopsis: | Summary needed |
| Cast of Characters: | Spawn, Captain Marvel (Danvers)
|
- Spawn has posed:
Demons, vampires, slavers, drug dealers. Spawn had recently come back to the world of superheroics after some time away, and it seemed he really came back with a vengeance. Whereas before he'd been at least somewhat careful and had kept to the shadows, these days he was dispatching justice(or sometimes vengeance) his way wherever he damn well pleased, sending a message to scumbags that crossing him was a really bad idea.
Case in point, a man in a red tracksuit that was stained with sweat and maybe other things, running down a busy street while people parted around him and recoiled in horror. Mainly what they were reacting to, was the large combat knife stuck in the scrawny thug's right shoulder blade, with him not reacting to it seemingly out of sheer adrenaline even as he whimpered and cried out with every step.
Of course whereas before the people were reacting with nervous apprehension, they outright started fleeing in multiple directions when a figure descended from the sky. Red leathery cape stretched out like ragged torn wings, a sudden chain snuck out and looped around one of the thug's ankles, and the tracksuited man hit the pavement facefirst. He was still trying to move, still trying to crawl or make some sort of escape even as the figure watched. Seemingly toying with his food.
"You're not going to escape, Boris. You don't get to escape from the things you've done."
- Captain Marvel (Danvers) has posed:
Carol Danvers had been monitoring the status of the Eastern half of the US from within Avengers tower. Skimming military, emergency and law enforcement radio and internet chatter, it had been a typical turn of monitoring - that is to say it was very boring. Other than cats stuck in trees and dogs refusing to wear cones of shame even to get healthy again, it was pretty much a text book turn of events. That is, until reports of a "demon coming out of the sky" in NYC started showing up.
One was probably just a bad trip. Two was enough to raise a brow. Then a dozen at once was enough. Setting the console to run on its own, Carol had turned and made for the landing platform high up on the tower. By the time she'd left the comms center she was already switched into Captain Marvel's uniform.
Rising into the sky she turned toward the reported location. Demons happen. But if this being came from the sky it could as easily be an alien. Better not to take chances.
- Spawn has posed:
The knife was wedged deep in Boris' scapula, the dull army-green hilt barely shining even in the bright glow of the night-time lights all around them. Reaching down, Spawn used that hilt as a handle, slowly lifting and 'convincing' the scared bleeding Russian to very quickly dance up to his tippy toes even as he tries to reach behind him at his back. He can't reach the blade, and even if he could, what then?
"Tried to hide behind your little scumbag buddies, and that didn't work for you. Tried to grow a pair and take me on, that didn't work. Now here you are, dangling like a worm on a big fucking hook. You better hope I get a bite when I throw your punk-ass into that water. You listening, Boris, do you understand me boy? You better."
For added meanness, the seven foot Hellspawn let go of that knife only to grab the Russian by the back of the neck, just so he could quickly smack his head into a glass store window. There was a slight 'crack' as the material spiderwebs from the impact. But no lasting damage.
Probably no lasting damage.
Hopefully, maybe there would be no lasting damage from this. Maybe.
- Captain Marvel (Danvers) has posed:
Arriving on site not long after, Captain Marvel began searching for the reported tango. Then she heard the impact of head to glass and it narrowed her area significantly.
Flying over, she finally caught sight of the towering figure attacking poor Boris. It took only a moment for her to double back and drop down to hover perhaps ten meters away and half that off the ground. "That glass door didn't deserve that. I'm not certain he did, either. Care to explain yourself?"
After dealing with many intergalactic conflicts Carol had long since learned to try talking first. It only hurt sometimes.
- Spawn has posed:
The figure in the red cape doesn't move at first, save for slowly letting go of the man in the tracksuit and letting him collapse in a sobbing heap.
Gradually, the figure turns his entire upper body, and only when twisted at a severe angle does the head follow suit. Realistically his vision should be blocked by that impressively tall cape collar, except it moves as well so that Carol can see the detail of that strange black and white mask, and those glowing green eyes that seem to convey so much anger. There are no words for a moment, just silence as the creature formerly known as Al Simmons tries to study and take in everything about this newcomer.
"Is that what they've got the rotorheads wearing these days? Goddamn, no wonder we're not getting any respect overseas."
The figure actually chuckles, shaking his head and seemingly looking down at the ground as he turns the rest of his body toward Carol. Despite his words, it seems he's respecting Danvers enough not to dismiss her as a non-threat.
So that's good. Right?
- Captain Marvel (Danvers) has posed:
Carol Danvers watches curiously. Waiting for any signs of aggression before opting for any of her own. "Rotorheads. Nah, sorry. I was fighter pilot back in my day. F-15's. 16's. F-22. But these days I don't need wings to fly. Or keep the peace." She drops down to land easily. "I'm Captain Marvel. Of the Avengers. You're causing quite a stir... Mr....."
- Spawn has posed:
"'Avengers' 'Justice League'. Cute names, but what are you avenging? Where is the justice from those big opulent bases? From where I'm standing all that shit is nothing but optics."
Behind him, as he stands with that cape surrounding him and obscuring his movements, the nervous frantic Russian had been slowly rising to his feet, and was preparing to bolt out towards potential freedom. Without even glancing behind himself, the Hellspawn sent out a chain, wrapping around both of the goon's feet, and started lifting him, upside down, into the air. A cellphone and a pair of brass knuckles fell out of the man's pockets, clattering against the pavement noisily.
"Take Boris over here. Him and his little dime store goon squad have had a hell of a time over the last month scamming businesses into paying into a "protection" racket, when they weren't busy robbing drugstores and smuggling young immigrant women in and out of the country. While you're busy flying without jets, and 'keeping the peace', scumbags like this are busy trying to turn themselves into the new mafia every single day. And that's not taking into account all the other garbage walking around these streets feeling bold. But don't worry, I'm out here playing janitor. Keeping the shit from overflowing, making sure nobody has to get dirty. Call me Spawn. And don't get in my way."