4461/Hi Tech Theft

From United Heroes MUSH
Jump to navigation Jump to search
Hi Tech Theft
Date of Scene: 16 May 2018
Location: New York City
Synopsis: Strange things are a-Foot with the gangs of the city. New York's resident schizophrenic vigilante interrogates some thugs, and quickly finds himself in hot water.
Thanks to: Shredder
Cast of Characters: Shredder, Moon Knight

Shredder has posed:
    Stark Industries Research Center. Well, one of them. There have been a number of thefts from technology facilities recently. A common theme is that the Purple Dragons have always been in the area at the time. Today, the Purple Dragons are in this area. It's not inside their territory. Four of them are walking down the street, not at the research center, but at a deli nearby. What are they up to?

Moon Knight has posed:
When night fell and the moon rose, its guardian knight answered the call. He wasn't necessarily protecting the interests of Tony Stark, one of the richest most powerful men on the planet. No, he was more interested in protecting innocent people from whatever these scumbags were trying to steal from him. It didn't take much detective work to figure out that the Dragons were involved somehow, and it didn't take much waiting before the waiting paid off, and he saw them appear like clockwork.

He cut through the night sky, a blur of white and silver descending from a rooftop and gaining speed and momentum. He was hurtling toward the group like a bullet, and only at the very last moment of impact did he spread his arms and let that silver cape of his slow his momentum. Just enough that he wouldn't outright kill the sucker he was aiming for, the big bald one. Moon Knight's knee was aiming right for the side of this sucker's face, and that would be all the warning they got before he landed, ready. That hood hid the blank white mask beneath, so that it looked like glaring glowing silver pupilless eyes were peaking out from a veil of shadow.

"Y'know, knights slay dragons. This is a bad night to be a piece of shit, it looks like."

Shredder has posed:
    The thug takes the blow completely by surprise. He is out cold before he even knows what happened. The other three reflexively jump back and away from the caped intruder. "Whoa!" one says, "Who you think you are, princess?" one with a long beard asks. "You just come attackin' folks for nothin'?" He produces a switchblade. "Picked the wrong crowd to fuck with, amigo." The second, a guy with a distinct mohawk, reaches in his pocket and pulls out a set of brass knockers, while the third doesn't actually produce anything, but he cuts off the first. He seems a little cleaner cut, short hair, and is most decidedly the one who stands off in the best poise.
    "You think you are a hero? Or some street thug who wants to be tough?" A thick brooklyn accent comes from the unarmed thug's voice.

Moon Knight has posed:
The figure clad in white didn't seem to move much as the gang got ready, and with that cape draped over his shoulders covering his arms and hands, it was hard to see what all he was doing. Strangely enough he seemed to be swaying a little, left to right even as he looked on at the thugs and stayed silent...at least he did at first. Suddenly his head shot to his right to consider an empty street.


The barking anger came from nowhere, and seemed to be aimed where he was looking, even though, again, it seemed to be completely empty. While he was still looking on at nothing, his right hand suddenly emerged from that cape, flicking his wrist and chucking three silver, flat, sharp crescent moons, all aimed at the mohawked man, namely his face. They were low penetration, but they were deadly enough to cause a lot of pain.

"I know what I'm doing so just shut up, shut up!"

Shredder has posed:
    The mohawk thugh recoils, catching two of the three in his face, the third cutting part of his hair off. "Ow!" he cries out. The bearded guy dives forward at the same moment as Moon Knight attacks, his switchblade stabbing at the silver vigilante.
    "Hey psycho," the third exclaims, reaching behind himself to pull a pair of nunchaku out from the back of his pants, previously hidden under his shirt. "He was the only one that didn't say anything to you." He gives a quick twirl of the instrument, enough to show he knows how to use them.

Moon Knight has posed:
Switchblade moved in, and the man in white and silver acted immediately. The knife was thrust forward, and Moon Knight deflected with a karate-style block. With those metal gauntlets he was not at much risk of being cut. And with the goon being that close, it was no trouble at all for Moon Knight to put a hand around the thug's throat even as he used his hips to bring that thug up and down on the back of his neck and skull. When wrestling and judo collided.

That only left nunchucks. The hooded knight looked up at the last remaining fighter, walking forward slowly as he reached in the back of his belt, bringing out a similar weapon, though his was made out of a silver metal, and both 'chuck's looked to be longer as if they were made to be different weapons entirely. And as he waited for the man to make his move, Moon Knight started twirling them in his hand idly.

"Someone wants to play the Headache Game. Alright kiddo let's do it."

Shredder has posed:
    The nunchaku thug sneers as his friend is knocked out, "You think you're big? You just come beat up folks mindin' their own business?" he asks, swinging the nunchucks tightly around at Moon Knight's knee and snapping them back. "And people peg us as the bad guys, you're a piece of work, you know that? Come on, PJ, let's see what you really got."

Moon Knight has posed:
Moon Knight is walking forward when that hard wooden impact explodes across the side of his knee. It buckles momentarily and the man in white and silver goes down. Or at least appears to, because he's rolling as soon as he lands and comes up to his feet immediately after. He's continuing to walk around and circle around the thug as if they weren't attacking, as if they were still sizing each other up.

"Sweetheart, I hope you had a good time at the dance. 'Cause you're about to get fucked harder than a prom queen."

Immediately he lunged forward, those nunchucks being swung overhead almost like they were more of a flail than a graceful speed and finesse weapon. That cudgel on a chain was aimed for the thug's wrist holding his own weapon, and this powerful overhead attack was obvious. That's because it was a trap. If the thug backed away or sidestepped, Moon Knight was already pivoting, spinning to throw a massive kick right to the man's stomach and midsection.

Shredder has posed:
    The thug takes the bait, blocking high and opening his midsection, the kick knocks him back, landing on the first friend of his who was knocked out at the beginning. He rolls off, and scrambles back to his feet. "Yeah, you a fancy show off, huh?" he asks. He bounces back into fighting range, spinning low for a foot sweep and following it with a punch forward, high or low depending on whether he successfully sweeps, but it's aimed for the face.

Moon Knight has posed:
The thug rolled back, but by the time he got to his feet, the rules of engagement already changed. Now what were formerly a pair of nunchucks were now snapped together, a solid staff made for delivering pain and granting the advantage of reach and distance. The thug was charging in again with some clever quip, but the Champion of Knushu was tired of playing nice. Blitzing forward to meet the last man standing head-on, Moon Knight threw out a wild flurry, a combination of staff strikes aimed at the man's legs, arms, head, at his ribs, at anything. Somewhere in the midst of this the thug's fist indeed connected with the masked man's face, causing him to stagger backwards...

But was he supposed to be leaping in the air like that? Pivoting around the masked man was aiming a big-time swooping headkick, right for the side of the man's face or neck. With those hard, metallic shinguards and kickpads of his, it would only add to the devastating impact. If it connected.

Shredder has posed:
    Moon Knight's blow land true, and he loses his nunchucks, stumbling back and landing flat on his back. He's bruised, bloody, and he only narrowly blocks the knee from connecting with his face. Well, he stops it from directly connecting with his face. His hands are driven into his chin and he lands flat on his back, groaning.
    The thug with half a mohawk holds his face. "You," he whimpers angrily. "You are just a bully. You think you are some kind of justice fighter? You just drop out of no where, don't like our clothes, or who knows what, so you beat the hell out of us? You know who we are? We're the Purple Dragons, dick. You know why I'm in them? Because of guys like you who think they can just do what they want." He is retreating in his steps as he talks, clearly only interested in yapping rather than fighting.

Moon Knight has posed:
When Nunchucks fell, the whiteclad champion stalked forward ominously with that bostaff in two hands, almost like it were a sword or a baseball bat. His upper body was leaned forward, and his steps were long and measured. When he got close enough he exploded again in violence, bringing that metal staff down recklessly and almost blindly, aiming it for general mass and flesh again and again, at least three horrific blows, some of which hit enough of the ground to cause that familiar metallic echo. With every swing he could be heard under that mask, perhaps even through grit teeth. "grrrgh...grAAARRRGH!"

He was finished and breathing heavy, his white and silver gauntlets covered in red crimson, some even across the crescent moon of his chest. He was looking up at the night time sky, almost transfixed as he stood over the very beaten(and technically still alive) former nunchucks thug, his head tilting this way and that as if listening to something no one else could hear. But then Mohawk spoke, and instantly the Moon Knight was wheeling around, violently spinning toward the source of the sound. It seemed he forgot where he was for a moment, because when he finally realized that it was the man with the shuriken in his face, he instantly slumped, shaking his head and covering his white masked face with his left hand. Gruesome enough, when he finally pulled it away that white mask now had streaks of red almost like crude tiger stripes. But Mohawk now had the masked man's attention, because he started walking toward the thug, taking measured breaths as he spoke.

"Yeah you're right I'm a bully, you're goddamn right. And you know what a dragon is, boy? It's a snake, it's a goddamn snake in the goddamn grass. You're nothing but garbage like me, and I'm gonna treat you like garbage if you don't start talking and telling me everything I wanna know about Star Labs, and Stark Industries, and all the other places you've been ripping off. You're gonna talk or you're gonna make your mother cry every single day she has to look at what you made me do. So start talking. NOW!"

As he got closer, he was unfastening that bo-staff in the middle, annd pretty soon he was now holding two long metal sticks that looked like they hurt. Every so often he'd swing and hit one on the ground, letting the impact echo violently off the concrete sidewalk, to let this kid understand: No help was coming. There was no rescue on its way.

Shredder has posed:
    "Oh shit, Eric? Did you kill him? You you bastard, he couldn't hurt you!" He looks torn between checking to see if his friend is alive, and running for his life. "You're a psycho. You're a frickin' psycho man!" He makes his choice, and it is to run like hell. Knees fly up and he cries out. "Heeeelp! His voice echoes against the compassionless concrete and brick walls. "Heeeelp!" He takes off in full sprint of desperation.

Moon Knight has posed:
"No one can hurt me."

He spoke idly as the man got up to run away, and it seemed like the psycho wasn't giving chase, because if the thug were to look behind him he wouldn't see anyone there. That's because Moon Knight was taking a different route, the skies. After a quick grapnel-boost into the night sky, the form of this grim ivory-clad bonebreaker was hurtling through the night sky, cape outstretched to look like a mix between a halo and angel wings, even though the figure descending was anything but merciful. Closer, and closer, and closer he got!

Shredder has posed:
    Just as it seems that no one is going to answer the thug's call for help, a kunai streaked past Moon Knight's face. It's a miss, but only so narrowly. The mohawk man trips, his lanky figure sprawling on the ground as he covers his head with warding hands. The kunai clatters across the concrete harmlessly, but it's thrower...well, it's very dark.

Moon Knight has posed:
The kunai streaked past and instantly Moon Knight stopped gliding, dropping out of the sky and landing on the street with a soft roll. He looked around, here or there, looking down at his own blood-covered gloves and looking once more for anyone who could have thrown anything.

When he didn't see anyone, he returned to a somewhat 'normal' stance, composed with his cape draped over his shoulders and obscuring his hand movements. In this way he stalked toward the prone final thug, speaking as if nothing happened. But his guard was definitely up.

"So what's it gonna be, sweetheart? What are you gonna tell me? And just how surgically replaced do you want your kneecaps to be? I'm feeling generous tonight."

Shredder has posed:
    As Moon Knight turns back to the thug, two black forms leap down from the roof top, landing silently behind him. They waste little time, but one thrusts a kunai at the rear of his ribs while the other makes a grab for the cape while delivering a kick to the back of the knee. It's not a fair type of move, something that clearly a dirty ninja would do.

Moon Knight has posed:
When the two blackclad forms descended, the figure in white seemed to throw something, far off into the street, but that didn't seem to matter because the two made their move. At the last second the Champion of Knushu spun around, each hand grabbing the stabbing ninja's wrists. This protected the hooded vigilante from fatal injury, but he was still sent to one knee and grunted as his cape was grabbed, causing it to grow tight around his neck. And the man grappling him might find that he was going to his back very easily, was the ninja just that strong?

Or, was the Moon Knight just laying down so that when his boomerang came back, he wasn't a target for it? Heavy and weighted specifically to break bones, that spinning metal device was hurtling through the air loudly, as it was aiming for either of the two and coming in fast and hard!

Shredder has posed:
    The boomerang strikes the ninja holding the cape in the head, knocking him to the ground while the second ducks low beneath it, given that his wrists are snagged. He delivers a powerful downward kick at the sternum of Moon Knight's chest, his position giving him a distinct power edge in his force.

Moon Knight has posed:
At the sickening echoing impact that sent the other ninja hurtling away, the masked man gave a weak laugh even on the ground, even as his hood pulled back from this action to reveal that white mask covering his entire head. He was shaking his head, even as the ninja's boot smashed him right in the crescent moon above the man's sternum. His outfit was very lightly armored, but it didn't do much against big blunt impacts like that. He rocked backward from the impact, but even with the leverage advantage of the ninja, this awkward close proximity to each other, and his wrists being compromised, meant that the blow wasn't as devastating as it could have been. Thankfully for Moon Knight, he didn't feel any bones crack, and he probably wouldn't need surgery. He also kept laughing, speaking as he did so.

"Well that's a concussion for Little Timmy over there. But you? You got a different problem on your hands. Literally!"

From his vantage point on the ground, when the ninja put his foot down from that sternum kick(or was it more like a stomp from this position?), the vigilante pivoted his body around so that his legs quickly wrapped around that limb, and he attempted to angle it so that he hooked his knee over the man's wrists as well, curling up into a little ball as he attempted to use all of his strength, and all of his training to try and wrench the ninja's two hands. If he heard cracking, it would be music to his ears. But he wouldn't stop wrenching.

Shredder has posed:
    The ninja strains against the legs as Moon Knight pulls on him, and takes advantage of the one opening that he has, and that is a kick to the head. Given his angle, it isn't the strongest kick, but then again, it's still a kick to the head.

Moon Knight has posed:
From that vantage point, that close up, there weren't all that many options. The ninja kicked down and the only way for Moon Knight to avoid it was to let go of the wrist hold so that he could pull his knees up to his chest. That way, as he craned his neck to avoid that blow, he could push suddenly outward. Now his legs that were already up and around were attempting to shove that ninja as far back as was humanly possible. And given that Moon Knight was a former wrestler and heavyweight boxer, there was quite a bit of power in his frame to show off.

If he had an opening he would finally roll to a kneeling position, and slowly step up to a vertical base while rolling his neck to consider his options.

"Alright, buddy. I'm done playing games."

Shredder has posed:
    The thug had run for his life while the ninjas fought, the ninja still standing takes the break in contact to roll to his ally's side, who looks somewhat disoriented, but trying to recover.
    "Good," the ninja says, glaring through the slit in his mask. "Thank you for your assistance." It may seem an odd thing to say, but he doesn't give time to ask for an explanation. His fingers slip into his belt, and he flings a couple of smoke pellets at the ground. They explode into smoke, and when it clears... both ninjas are gone. The only thing remaining behind is the kunai which had been thrown earlier.

Moon Knight has posed:
For a few moments, the man in white stood tall while the street was empty, void of combatants. A moment passes, two moments, and suddenly the man is falling to his knees, clutching his midsection in pain and shaking his head. Three, four more moments, then he's pushing back up to his feet, and limping toward the nearest building.

Minutes later he's in the air, in the back of a jet black helicopter, Frenchie taking them home. His cape removed and draped over his lap, his mask was off and in his hands. He looked down at it in darkness as he finally felt the pain of the night rushing to meet him. He still didn't get any answers. He would, though. He'd learn what he wanted to know if he had to tear every damn gang in this city apart.