3501/Hell's Kitchen Welcome Wagon

Hell's Kitchen Welcome Wagon
Date of Scene:	27 December 2017
Location:	Hell's Kitchen, New York City
Synopsis:	Summary needed
Cast of Characters:	Daredevil, Redstar

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Daredevil has posed:
    The stars above the city of New York are rarely seen. They're there, however, just a hint of illumination above the low hanging clouds of the night, the light from the city washing out the sky and casting everything in that low grey glow that's so common during the winter. Though tonight there's no promise of snow, instead there's just what's already fallen, the grey muck upon the ground that the street traffic has turned dark and grimy.
    Yet above the street, upon the rooftops, much of the snow is almost pristine. A bright white with a crackly icy covering from the melting and refreezing over the night. It muffles the sounds of the evening, giving some sense of peace to the world.
    But it's a peace that's broken by the crackling of that ice under heavy footsteps, the wild rush of men running across the roof of the old apartment building almost frantically. The three of them move so quickly, so erratically, constantly looking over their shoulders.
    "Is he still after us?"
    "I dunno, man! I don't see nothin'."
    One of them in the front skids to a halt and works the slide of his 9mm, frowning as he glances back. "Think we lost him?"
    "Maybe..."

Redstar has posed:
Vicky starts to her feet from where she was sitting on the edge of the roof. Pretending to be a gargoyle and watch the city life below. Even Hell's Kitchen is better than hiding forever. The men haven't seen her yet, so focused on looking over their shoulders. She ducks to hide behind the small area that houses the stairs and door leading down inside. As she moves she kicks an abandoned can of something and it skitters towards the men.
    As she hears the click of the gun she puts her hands over her mouth to keep to sound of her fast breathing under control. Her wings are partially folded, but held back so she can see the moment any of them round the side of the little shack. In a handful of breaths she gets her breathing under control and tries to weigh the likelyhood of being able to flee before being shot with doing something about the men. But in this weather, left along, they would not do well.
    ~~You should be afraid. Guns can kill and something tells me those gentlemen wouldn't even blink at shooting us.~~ Unheard by anyone but Vicky, a voice whispers in her thoughts and makes Vicky scowl angrily.
    "Shut up," She whispers under her breath, glancing sideways to the corner of the little building once again.

Daredevil has posed:
    That tin can skitters and clatters across the rooftop, then flips over the edge. It clatters a few more times as it falls down all the way the four stories to the ground. It's enough to get the men to snap their attention in the direction of where that can came from. But Vicky's silhouette it hidden behind the tall ramshackle alcove that the building's stairwell hides within.
    "Who's there?!" One of the men snaps. But then there's a yowling mrowl from a cat as it leaps away on the nearby neighboring rooftop, just in the moment enough to distract the men away and to provide a possible explanation.
    "Just a cat, idiot."
    "Screw you."
    But then the pistol swings away as they start to step back and move a few more steps. "Think we're clear."
    "Yeah... prolly. Fisk ain't gonna like this."
    "That's for sure, what're we gonna tell him?"
    But then another voice is heard, some distance away on the other side of the rooftop, a severe tone of voice almost like a growl. "Tell him to stay out of Hell's Kitchen..."
    And as quick as that, the men snap into motion even as a steel baton whirls across the distances and cracks against the side of one man's head, sending him to the ground sprawling right at Vicky's feet.

Redstar has posed:
Vicky bites her lip as the men talk and seem to come closer. Inside her head a dangerous voice chuckles. When the new voice enters the scene she frowns and then turns around so she is facing the old wood of the stairs housing. As she does so she squints and her brow furrows. The icey blue color of her eyes is swallowed by her pupils and suddenly the world is awash in infrared. Knowing exactly where everyone is, including the cat, allows her to relax and breathe a little easier. Still she has no idea who is who. For all she knows it could be gang rivalry and she certainly didn't want to be involved in that. So she stays puts but brings her wings up in a protective curl about her.
    ~~I wondered when you would think of that.~~ That other purred. Vicky's face was already scowling or she might have done so at the superiority in that voice.
    "I told you to shut up," She barely whispered under her breath, shaking her head as if that would do some good.
    She watched as the lone figure moved to attack the trio and brought a hand to her mouth at the meaty crack that followed.

Daredevil has posed:
    That lone figure is unlike the others, not just a gangster, nor a gun-toting thug. He's a man that moves with a lithe athletic grace even as he closes the distance with those three, vaulting over an old industrial-sized air conditioner that hasn't worked for decades. But that leap takes him clear over it, one leg lashing out and around to smash into the jaw of one of the men. In that haze of infrared he's a crimson figure as much as he is under normal illumination. Something almost demonic about him in the way he lashes out, a blurringly fast back fist cracking against a man's jaw as he moves.
    It could be that dark armor that his suit is made out of, or it could be the twin horns that jut forth from his brow, or even the mirrored lenses in that mask that cast the image back to them of the men he's beating. But what might most speak to the darker side of man is the crisp and severe brutality of his movements even as the men try to counter.
    There's a brief moment when one is knocked back into that stairwell, sprawling down to the ground and grimacing. With him down, Daredevil spins back to the other fighters, only for that man he just knocked to the ground to reach into his jacket and withdraw another pistol.

Redstar has posed:
Vicky turns as the man lands on the ground near her, wings pulling back. For only a fraction of a second does she hesitate before her foot kicks out as he pulls the gun out. He didn't see her or even expect anyone to be there and for the first time her years of training paid off. The gun flew from his hands as he shouted and turned to stare at her. Backlit by the building next door with her wings raised about her makes him scream. "DEMON!" Even though it makes her flinch it isn't the first time she's heard this.
    ~~Take him out before he pulls another gun or gets his bearings, idiot.~~ Starr's voice prompted her, a pushing against her will, urging towards a more violent response.
    "NO!" She shouted back and turned her eyes back on the man, her eyes returning to their normal ice blue. "Just...stay put," She tells him awkwardly, staring hard at him. Beneath the layers he wears the gunman turns pale, his nose going red and then blue, and he begins to shiver uncontrollably in the snow. He'll not be able to do much for awhile.

Daredevil has posed:
    It was just when the man had been taking a bead at the man in red that her foot lashed out and instantly he was reeling, his voice tremulous with panic. But then his protests are cut short as the world compresses from a place of warmth even in this time of year to something else entirely. He's left with nothing more to do than to hold himself, to clasp himself against the cold even as his two compatriots are quickly put down with heavy blows that are abrupt and in a way perhaps merciful for the conflict is over.
    And it leaves them there, the woman with her wings unfurling slightly and the man in the armored suit, his head turned to the side as if looking at her but perhaps beyond her. She can see the small haze of steam from his breath as he turns to the side, then his voice lifts. "Thanks for the assist." He offers...
    Even as his senses reach out, testing the steady beat of her heart, listening to the race of blood through her veins, seeking to comprehend exactly what he is perceiving here.

Redstar has posed:
Vicky is filled with fear, the beating of her heart says that much. The quickened breath says she is also slightly excited. "Uhm...yeah. Guns are bad," She says still sounding rather awkward. "Are you hurt?" She asks as she casually releases her focus on the man downed with cold. Someone will have to warm him up at this point, because the cold New York night certainly isn't going to help the case of hypothermia. She moves now to kneel next to him with a worried frown. "Are...uh...these bad guys?" She scoffs a bit when she heards the words, shaking her head.

Daredevil has posed:
    The snow crunches under the man's footsteps as he walks across the way, taking a moment to kneel beside one of the men and turning him over with one hand. A zip tie is drawn from a pocket and he pulls the fallen man's wrists together, tightening the plastic so they're bound together. Moving to each in turn he makes sure they're secure before he turns his attention back to her.
    "Yes." He gains his feet with the creak of leather and kevlar. "They are." From another pocket he withdraws a small black burner phone that he thumbs to life with a swipe, then presses a button that dials a number. It begins ringing faintly but then the screen dies as he tosses it casually onto the fallen men. Turning back towards her he tilts his head to the side slightly, as if looking just over her shoulder.
    To him, in several ways, she's something of an enigma. The sound of her breathing, her heartbeat, and that flutter of wings. Even her scent, it's all off but close to humanity. Something similar. But at the least her heartbeat might be easing a bit now. "Are you alright?" He'll ask her, knowing that she most likely is, there's no scent of blood from her being hurt. But perhaps he means more the fact that she's out here late at night in the snow.

Redstar has posed:
Vicky takes a step back from the fallen man as Daredevil moves with quick efficiency to bind their hands. She watches him pull out the phone and for a moment is puzzled. Then that puzzlement clears and she manages a weak smile and nod at his question. The wings behind her fold in against her and cease their nervous fluttering. His question takes her a moment to consider and respond. In the meantime that keen hearing of his is likely to pick up the rumbling of her stomach even as she says, "I'm okay. I was just...people watching. It's about all I can do. Your the first person who has seen me and not screamed in awhile...or reacted negatively in some way." Then she realizes she is babbling and once again bites her lower lip.

Daredevil has posed:
    Not that he's actually... seen her, as it were. But he gives a small nod and a smile, "Well. Mutant Town is just to the north a bit, so the people of Hell's Kitchen are used to the... abnormal." He offers that lightly even as he steps towards her and then past, just a few steps that take him to the ledge nearby. He rests a boot on the raised lip of that rooftop that serves as a small barrier against the chasm between buildings. Over his shoulder he tells her, "You have a place to go to, some place warm?" A curious question, perhaps. But then again the young mutant people he tends to meet... they do at times seem to suffer from difficult imes.
    Turning he meets her gaze, or as best as he can considering the way those mirrored lenses in his mask cast her own image back to her. "There's a mission on 16th Street that is open to all. Father Mulhaney is a good man, who won't do you wrong."

Redstar has posed:
"Father Mulhaney?" She mimics the words and then shakes her head. "Warm is irrelevant. The cold...doesn't bother me," She says with a roll on one shoulder and shy smile. "I'm new. I...came from a long ways off. Honestly I've been living in Central Park for the past month..." Why did she tell him that? She whinces and the voice inside has some very choice words about idiocy and the like. "Roof tops seem to be pretty safe, though. Ahhh...you take care. And thanks. For the tips I mean," She really is a rather awkward teenager.

Daredevil has posed:
    For a time he stands there, seemingly looking at her. He lifts his chin slightly, brow furrowing behind that mask though she most likely can't perceive it. But after a few moments drift by he gives her a single solemn nod. "Sure thing." He says a little slowly, but then he steps to the side and removes a baton from its place on his hip, the device whirling slightly in his grip. "Central Park isn't the best place to lay your head, I imagine."
    He swirls the baton and then sends it flying off to the side towards the nearby building trailing a length of wire as it spins around a flagpole and locks into place. "So if you need to, Father Mulhaney. Tell him Daredevil sent you." He seems to linger a moment, as if expecting some protest or the like. But then he nods to her and drops off the side of the building, the line drawing taut and swinging him down and then back up to the far building.
    A few moments later and he's gone.

Redstar has posed:
Vicky watches him head off to another rooftop. She nods her head as he heads off and even grins as she actually recognizes the name. "Father Mulhoney," She says to herself again. The sound of sirens wakes her up and she crouches down before making a leap and beating those large wings. Snow and air is blown all about in miniture flurries as she too launches up into the air, aiming for the 16th district. Food and an actual bed being a reality? Yes please!