8635/Ice Cracker

Ice Cracker
Date of Scene:	03 August 2019
Location:	Bushwick
Synopsis:	Various heroes converge in a alleyway to aid a man at the wrong end of a group of Diamond Smugglers
Cast of Characters:	Hammerhead, Beast, Sersi, Silver Sable, Rave

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Hammerhead has posed:
It was late at night in Bushwick. Nights in this area were quite dangerous, even with the protection of the mysterious "family" that protected Mutant Town. For one reason or another, you were out in Bushwick, not expecting the scene that you were about to stumble upon. As you are walking down the street, you hear what sounds like grunting and groans of pain along with the ocassional dull thud, like something hittng a slab of meat. You suddenly hear a voice yell out from an alleyway near a abandoned deli," Where is da ice ya thin skinned Eastern European asshole?!" There are sounds of even more grunting as a voice with a thick Symkarian accent yell out,
    
     "Please comrade, you got to believe me! I delievered the stuff earlier tonight, please don't kill me!"
    
     There is aloud,audible crack as the Symkarian lets out an audible scream of horror as a new, much more burlier voice adds in," Bulllshit, the Ice Man tolds us that he never got da Ice shipment. Now, we got to kill ya!"

Beast has posed:
Henry McCoy has been visiting here lately to help families who have been victims of various attacks. When he does this, he dresses immaculately. And tonight he's giving out Moonberry Twinkies to kids he sees, and so he's wearing a backpack containing boxes of them. That's all done as it's now late, so he's heading back. Some shouting though makes him round a corner to look...

Sersi has posed:
    Bushwick isn't a nice place by most stretches of the imagination. Pretty faces might get accosted, or maybe not, knowing that beauty often proves a trap. Going unescorted either invites too much attention or a blind eye turned out of self-preservation. A certain boutique on the second floor of an old brownstone does a rather tidy business, and the owner sees a dark-haired young woman down to the ground floor. A single light burns in the foyer until she steps out, when a rolling door comes down and cuts off that cheery glow. Sersi hasn't bothered with a coat given the intense humidity of a summer night, and her small purse tucks neatly against her side. Setting out down the pavement brings her unauspiciously close to the deli, one blank storefront replacing another lonely stretch of glass fronting a closed shop. Impervious to the obvious signs to run, she keeps cautiously approaching despite the sounds of pain, the cries for help, the tumbling cascade of threats coming from round the corner.
    Which plants her reasonably in line of sight, preoccupied by her phone that she slips from her pocket. Held in her palm, she swipes over the dully glowing screen. "Fourteen minutes? This is what I'm paying for?" The warning enough to them she's present. Oh, look, another victim. Surely.

Hammerhead has posed:
In the alley where six men. Five of them were dressed up as 1930s gangsters and the sixth was a man lying on the ground of the alley, clutching his arm while bleeding from his nose. The five other men were standing over the fallen sixth man, with one of them, a scrawny man wearing prescription glasses, kicking the man in the ribs, hurting him even more. Another man, a medium sized, rotund man of Asian descent suddenly turns around and sees both Beast and Sersi staring at him, with Sersi pulling out her phone and aprrently calling someone. The man suddenly pulls out a pistol and, saying nothing, shoots two rounds, one at Beast and one at Sersi.

Silver Sable has posed:
Just becuase it's illegal, doesn't mean certain people aren't paying attention.

Multinational corporations don't just take USD or traveller's cheques. There are times and places for alternative payments. Conflict diamonds, gold buillion, expensive artwork. Anyone surviving in the post-war European economy learned to take the dollar value of whatever someone was bartering with. It's not like the Euro was more than a glimmer in anyone's eye.

"This is Silver Six to Silver Base," voices a private radio channel. "Our deposit to the Bushwick branch has been intercepted. Need a nearby asset to intervene."

"Silver Base, this is Silver Actual. Am nearby," Silver Sablinova says. Her private helicopter banks and starts towards Bushwick, blades shuddering through the air. "Am en route. Only few minutes away." Silver opens up a weapon's case in the back of the vehicle and extracts a pair of pistols. Bleeding-edge tech. She readies them both for use. "Will intervene. Prep team for extraction," she orders her comptroller-- and the helicopter swings towards Bushwick, angling forward for maximum speed.

Rave has posed:
Out and about in the streets, this wasn't really the sort of neighbourhood a young woman like Rave should be walking about in. But it was also places like this where one would find the underground clubs and night music that fueled the very 'scene' that had given her her namesake. She was on her way home, but the screaming and the shouting? That was enough for her to be drawn closer, a sudden flickering light that warps its way along the street and up the side of the alley.

It wasn't subtle, but all of a sudden there was a girl in a pair of shorts and deep blue tank top that still flashed her midriff sitting on the fire escape of the nearby building in the alleyway. There was even a pair of store bought 'glow bracelets' around one wrist.

Subtle, thy name is -not- Rave.

"So what's going on here?" she calls down lightly.

Beast has posed:
Henry McCoy ends up in an alley, and is shot at? "Oh my sta...." he gasps as he makes a move. LEaping out of the way, grabbing a fire escape, and jumping onto a second floor landing. "Drop it," he grunts, sizing up his options.

Sersi has posed:
    Good decisions, bad decisions. They all boil down, in the end, to a rather straightforward equation. Girl enters scene of a crime. Five aggressors to one unarmed, unremarkable woman. Even the pinnacle of mutantkind might be hard pressed to immediately react to a gun pulled from a coat, a pistol levelled suddenly while their attentions were elsewhere.
    Like trapped in a screen, spun by a pulsating burst on a city grid. Like a small, blinking circle, a target in the digital form. A target in the living body. Sersi looks up, if briefly, her thumb frozen over the bottom crescent of a button. Her green eyes hold a brilliant fire to them, warm as the sky. The crack of gunfire in an enclosed space isn't silent, even with the benefit of a silencer, and neither would that skin-piercing round be upon collision. It tears through the filmy sundress. It probably -- ought to be -- ejected out the other side. She lowers her arm, stricken perhaps by momentary shock. A gaze finds those glitzy glow bracelets were they weren't before, then up to Rave. Down to the goons.
    "Was that really necessary? I _just_ made this dress." Her tone sounds mildly exasperated.

Hammerhead has posed:
The fat gangster is shocked by Sersi being seemingly unaffected ny his gunshot. He was about to start shooting again when he suddenly shocked by the appearance of more heroes. The man who appears to be the leader, a large, muscular Samoan man wearing sunglasses alongside his 1930s gangster suit, grabs the Symkarian by the leg and starts to frag him further down the alley while yelling to his boys," Ya guys kill these bastards. I will get the diamonds from this Symkarian asshole. No one screws the Coriscan and gets away with it!" As the Samoan drags off the Symkarian, the gangsters start shooting at the heroes, two of them shooting at Beast and Rave, with the final two shooting at Sersi.

Rave has posed:
Well crap, there was some gunfire now. Bullets through the air. There was a moment of panic that she might not have reacted quick enough, but the pair seemed uneffected...oh and now there were bullets coming her way. Giving a wide-eyed moment of disbelief, the blue-haired heroine exhales a breath...then she's simply not -there- anymore as the bullets hit the wall behind her.

Suddenly, she's standing in front of the man who shot at her, palms glowing bright and brilliant with neon-like lasers that suddenly blast through the air and throw the man back through the air.

Beast has posed:
Henry McCoy sees someone being dragged away, and decides to go after the Samoan. He keeps moving as the shots are fired, one damaging his best suit jacked!. He runs along the fire escape railing, and leaps off, landing on a closed dumpster, jumping off of that, and running after the big guy. "Don't know what you're doing but I don't think I approve."

Sersi has posed:
    The shots fired at a perfectly personable, non-threatening young woman cause her to put her phone away hastily to avoid damaging it. Most being shot at would be trying to protect their face, hide behind a wall, but not her. No ride home tonight, so it seems. Sersi rubs at the gouge in her dress, happy to stand exactly where she is in plain sight where the road and the alley meet. When the Samoan seizes the Symkarian he was beating on, she actually frowns. Shadows on the move dispute the Samoan's choice, Henry's presence noted in some way, and that clearly changes her game plan. In that, no more considering sauntering off, the bullets slicing across space and most certainly finding her. They have to hit something; she's not a projection or a ghost, or phasing into light like Rave is.
    Arching immaculate raven brows, she approaches one of the men firing at her with her lower lip bitten between her teeth. "Are you sure we can't work this out?" she asks, her voice accented with a definite Mediterranean undertone. Italian, likely. "Oh, that stings. Your boss wants you to take me down, and I just want to keep breathing. Can't we come to an agreement, fellows?" A roll of her shoulder sends three bullets bouncing off the ground by her feet. She glances down, shaking her head. "I'm sure I can make it worth your while."

Silver Sable has posed:
The helicopter banks overhead. A powerful floodlight blasts through the night sky; it burns light into the alleyway, driving away shadows and grime alike. It turns night to day and covers the descent of a woman in a silver trenchcoat, rapelling down a long rope with her boots wrapped around it and a single rapelling device in her hand.

She lands heavily, legs flexing, and draws a gun in both hands.

"Surrender!" Silver barks. Her voice carries with a premptory command, and she levels her handguns at the gangsters. "You are in possession of stolen Symkarian property! Leave now, or die!"

The helicopter retreates to a safe distance, adding the powerful floodlight to blind and disorient anyone caught in the white aura.

Hammerhead has posed:
As Rave sends the man who shot him flying through the air, One of the men shooting Sersi, the scrawny looking gangster with the glasses stops shooting, mouth agape. None of the bullets he shot at her seems to be working, shocking him to the core, what kind of woman was she. The second gangster, a burly man with a beard who obviously once worked for a biker gang, looks at his companion and says to him," Rick, what da hell are ya doing? Kill da bitch!" The biker was about to start firing again when suddenly a spotlight fills the air as Sable rappels down. Upon hearing her threat, The fourth gangster in the area, a Jamaican one, immedialtey starts shooting at Sable, an obvious no. Meanwhile, the Samoan looks at McCoy and let's out a growl as he kciks the man in the head, knocling him out. He then turns to McCoy and said," This bastard ripped the Corsican off. he was supposed to deleiver Ice to one of "icemen" but didn't. We were sent to teach em a lesson. But, if ya insist on interfering." He then pulls out a machete from his jacket pocket and, with a savage war cry, charges at Beast.

Rave has posed:
Was that a helicoptor? Man. What had Rave stumbled in on? The 'bluenette' speedster actually stares for a moment in slight awe at the rapelling and demanding Silver, grinning to herself. So cool. Of course, she'd met Hank before, she'd have to say 'Hi' later when she got a chance. And ask the seemingly bullet-proof Sersi who she was...in a second.

There's more gunfire, Rave's eyes take in the sight like it were happening in slow motion before she grins and there's another streak of blue light that passes between the thugs...hopefully coming to a stop with Rave leaning against a wall holding the Jamaican gangster's gun in her hand.

Hammerhead has posed:
The Jamaican gangster suddenly looks down and notices that his gun is missing. Turning his head to a wall, he is surprised to see Rave leaning against the wall with his gun. Taking one more look at both Silver and rave, the Jamaian sprints out of the alley

Beast has posed:
Henry McCoy sees the SAmoan brandishing his weapon,a nd well, takes off his jacket. "I don't think so," he grunts, throwing the nice jacket at the soamoan, trying to cover his head. Then he jumps, and trise to come down on the samoan from above, claws first onto the arms.

Sersi has posed:
    Down on the ground, Sersi murmurs, "Stylish. Oh, I like her," as the spotlights stream out from the chopper overhead. Sablinova has a fan, it would seem. Rick and the biker receive a sunny little smile, one that literally gets a little brighter as she chases after the spotlight. If someone plans on giving her a source of light, she means to stand inside it, supposing she can. Apparently the black-haired young woman is all for being happily bathed by the intense glow that might just make her a bit harder to see within its glare.
    "Rick's smarter than you are. Didn't you hear the lady up there?" See! A fan. "Little business tip, the next time someone offers you a chance to stop shooting, do it." She crooks her fingers slightly, a suggestion of a wave. Rearranging a few atoms here or there shifts the composition of the gun; where it -had- a long tube through the barrel, it no longer does. The round eye vanishes, unless it's stolen from, say, Asgard.

Silver Sable has posed:
In the mythology of the Old West, Wyatt Earp carries a Colt Buntline-- a revolver with a long barrel and stock. The legend goes that he wins a gunfight by shouldering the weapon, calmly ignoring the panick-fire bullets whipping through the air around him, and drops his dueling opponent with a single well-placed shot.

Silver is a testament to the spirit of that story, if not the letter. She breaks left with two fast steps, a smooth dodge that takes full advantage of the spotlight on her. The muzzle of her weapon (it can hardly be called a firearm) tracks, finds a target, and she pulls the trigger. Bright blue light flashes from the emitter as it flings magnetized plasma at near-relativisitic velocity. And it does so with zero recoil and unerring accuracy. Silver Sable isn't collecting Cracker Jack tokens or awards for 'wounding' her prey-- she shoots to kill, and any muzzles aimed her way are drowned by blue blasts of plasma from her weapons.

"I'll have my people back now, havala vam," she quips.

Hammerhead has posed:
The Samoan gets the jacket caught in his face and starts struggling to rip it off. Once he did, he saw McCoy lunging for him. In a surprising show of agility, he rolls out of the way. He then lets out another bellow and charges again winging his machete. Meanwhile, the biker fails to notice the change i nhis gone and tries to shoot Sersi again, but realizes that nothing is coming out. He looks at his gun and notices that the eye is missing. He throws his gun on the ground and before he can say anything, is shot by the blue plasma bolt from Silver. Rick, realizing how fucked he was, falls to his knees and starts trembling and says to Sersi," i give, just don't hurt me!"

Rave has posed:
The 'fun' of the disarm is suddenly interupted by those sizzling plasma bolts ending the man's life. Rave blinks, whincing a little. Her own lasers could do that if she aimed for it, but lethal force hadn't really been something she was willing to indulge in after all. Biting her bottom lip, the girl takes a step back and just sort of watches the surrendering thugs in stunned silence.

"Wow."

That's about as much as she manages to voice.

Beast has posed:
Henry McCoy is a little surprised the big guy can move as well as he does. Well, Hank kicks it up a notch. He's light on his feet, and tries to let the Samoan commit to a swing, before grabbing the arm and yanking him against a wall.

Silver Sable has posed:
Silver Sable's eyes narrow at Hank. He's handling the Samoan with an exceptional ease. The big gangster's a hulk of a man but Hank clearly isn't overawed by the fellows size. It also takes him mostly out of the fight, enough that Silver holsters one of the sidearms. The other lowers, but stays ready. There's little doube she could fire it from the hip with devastating accuracy.

"Get up," she commands the Symkarian, and grabs his wrist to drag him out of the melee. "<The diamonds, you have them, da?>" she demands in Symkarian. A pouch with diplomatic seals is handed over. Her lips purse and she shakes her head at him, then grabs his chin. It's to tilt his head back and forth and look at his injuries. "<Da, I have them still,>" he whimpers.

"<Good. Not a total loss. We need to get you to the medics,>" Silver says. She stoops and pulls his arm over her shoulder, then stands. She's strong, much stronger than she looks, and comes up with him hanging from her and stares at Rave's face.

"What?" she demands of the woman, her tone commanding and premptory all at once.

Hammerhead has posed:
The Samoan is grabbed and yanked into the wall as planned. As the Samoan collapses onto the ground unconcious the now neglected Rick looks on in shock. Seeing his opportunity to avoid death or arrest, he gets up from hs feet and attempts to dash out of the alleyway in the same direction as the Jamaican, hoping all of the heroes are too distraacted by his dead or Koed allies.

Rave has posed:
"You...I mean..." Rave begins, but in the end? The young woman just lifts her hands and shakes her head. Speedster or not? She didn't want to get on the Sable's bad side, clearly. Tonight she might have jumped into the fray, but the girl wasn't going to be posting or celebrating about it now. She was probably going to have a -long- shower and try not to think about the fact her perception had offered her a -very- in depth view of what happens when plasma hits flesh.

Her gaze moves now, to Henry and Sersi. Were either of them even slightly as bothered as she was?

Beast has posed:
Henry McCoy sighs, and goes to pick up his jacket that he thew. It had already been shot at, and he dusts it off, shaking his head. "Well... I knew the risks." he murmurs, looking to the others.

Silver Sable has posed:
Silver eyes Rave, and withdraws with her ally in tow. She gets him to the rappelling rope in short order; a rescue harness is tossed down and clipped into the rope, and he's shrugged into it. She hooks one up for herself, but hooks a foot in it and grips the rope negligently with her free hand.

"Try not to steal from us again, da?" she inquires of the sole remaining villain. She puts fingers to her lips and whistles like a train blast, and waves twice. The helicopter's engine revs and it lifts into the air, hauling the dangling two Symkarians along by the length of heavy rapelling rope. Silver watches the aftermath until her features can't be discerned, disappearing over the city just ahead of the sound of sirens wailign in the distance.