World of Heroes -- Reboot

"Hm...", grumbled Robert, his hand on the back of his neck. "Well, it is on a need to know basis... but I guess you need to know. From what information we can gather, Anima is a Non-Registered Superhero, female and in her teens. Been around for at least a year. As for Miss Red Cap here... ever heard of bein' crazy for love? Far as we can tell, Missus Claus here is obsessed with Anima, and has been after her for months. She's willing to do anything to try and find her, though often, her searches tend to turn into rampages and, sometimes, attempted murder."

"Anyway," Robert continued, "we need to figure out what to do with her. I'd just work on getting her into prison, except that the Prison Op's happening tonight. We don't want her among our potential list of break-outs, especially since we just captured her today. Though, there might be a chance she won't do anything. We'd had some undercover operatives search out Red Cap once or twice, talked to her in her civilian identity... and she doesn't seem to remember much, if anything, about her Red Cap identity. So maybe, when she wakes up, she won't remember this time either."

edited 15th May '12 7:08:49 PM by kkhohoho

"Red Cap, huh?" Matthew said, thinking. If there was some sort of mental block...

"Sir," he spoke up, making sure to phrase this as politely as possible, "Would it be possible for me to try and repair her memory with my power? It might help her resist whatever is causing her to act this way."

He didn't like having Kara meddle in other people's minds too much, but something had to be done to protect this girl from herself, and everyone from Red Cap. Of course, he knew the risks involved, but it wasn't like there were any other telepaths currently available.

"Well, if that's what it takes to save her, then that's what we've got to do." Kara was clearly determined to help too. Hopefully Robert would prove agreeable...

"If you want a man to pay for your lunch that badly, save your receipt and give it to Robert," Wildcard said. "I was in the middle of a conversation, here, so if you'll excuse me..." he pulled away from the alien girl.*

edited 15th May '12 7:47:03 PM by nman

That could be true. Although, there were rumors that Captain Nuclon was a being of pure energy. If that's the case it could be possible that his armor was just a means to contain him and when it was breached, he didn't so much die as become scattered which would mean increasing signatures are a sign of his return...not sure of the implications for the Registration Act. I'm working on some theories. Is there anything else you need?

And here I thought all 21st century men were supposed to be perfect gentlemen all dowries and about the 'chivalric' love. Guess the history vids were wrong. Thought Dax.

...After a time, Robert finally agreed with Mathew's request. "Usually," he replied, his eyes closed for a moment, "I don't prefer diggin' into someone else's mind, if only because it's happened to me at least once; and I didn't like it one bit. But... Red Cap has the potential to be a highly dangerous threat, and we really don't need her on the opposite side tonight. And we certainly don't want Mastermind gettin' his mits on her. So... do it."

"But just one thing;", continued Robert, sticking up the finger nearest his thumb on his right hand, "If you mess up her mind in any way, that's a cause for arrest, and I'll be taking you in myself. Do we understand each other?"

"Yeah there is. I don't know how, but someone broke into my head and sent me a message. It seems that the registered hero's are preparing against an attack on the prison housing every villain captured. It also say's that if we do come and help, then we will be allowed to leave without anyone trying capture us. I'm thinking about going myself, but only to see if it isn't a hoax. I wanted to meet you so that we can contact everybody we know and inform them so that we may come up with a plan."

"Lucas I have compiled 3D model of the prison using various photos, infrared satellites scans, previous schematics, and some documentary footage.", "Thank you Ibbie, prepare it to be displayed."

Daniel Imada walked into a cafe, where he was supposed to be meeting his tutor. The semester was winding down, and he needed some feedback on the progress he'd made on his final project. He had the Windrider mask and tunic hidden in his backpack in case anything happened, but hopefully today would just be another uneventful tutoring session.

Wildcard walked up to the counter of the nearby Shawarma joint, placing $30 on the counter, "Hey, I'll have a wrap to go, and I'll also need four plates of lamb and chicken - just make sure to put it on a receipt."

edited 16th May '12 2:34:17 PM by nman

As Wildcard made his request, a rather large, bulky man started intently at him, as if the person at the counter was some sort of bodyguard for a secret organization. He then suddenly slammed one hand onto the just-placed cash, and there the arm stayed for a good 10 seconds or so, before the person at the counter slowly removed his hand, and placed the money in the Cash-Register. "You will wait here for your meal," he told Wild Card and the others in a rough, gravely voice. "If you do not wait, I will track you, I will find you, and I will fill you with so much Shawarma that your belly's will literally burst. Your intestines will then be used as Shawarma meat." He said all this with a completely straight face, and then slowly lumbered into the kitchen...

edited 16th May '12 4:10:24 PM by kkhohoho

Dax turned to Wildcard. "Is That normal in 21st century restaurants? I wouldn't know martial law prohibits restaurants in my time.

Matthew stood there, watching as Kara laid a spectral hand on Red Cap's brow. He really wished he could help with this part, but this was Kara's thing. He briefly wondered if Robert, as a liaison agent, had been briefed on Kara's existence. He doubted it.

After a moment, she lifted the hand. "All I could do was make this girl remember the latest things Red Cap did. I...I've never seen a mind like that. It's horrible."

Matthew mentally nodded and looked at Robert. "I think...some progress was made, but it's probably too soon to tell. We'll have to wait and see how it turns out, when she wakes up."

He stretched, yawning. "Now, if you don't mind, I'll go file my report and then go nap before the operation tonight."

"You do that," replied Robert. "In the meantime, we'll keep little Ms.Psycho under lock&key, at the cells here at the Station. We'll just have to wait and see. Anyway, make da*m sure you're here at 11:00 for the operation. See you then." And so, Robert walked back into the Station, waiting for whatever crazy thing was going to happen next.

Quietly, Wildcard whispered to Dax, "No... but I'm not going to see if he'll go through with it," as he kept waiting.

The intimidating large man soon came back, with all of the food that the visitor's requested. He then slammed it all straight down on the counter. "Take it, eat it, and put your trash in the trash-bin. Or else we will be adding a new ingredient to our Shawarma's."

"Yo," Josh called, waving at his protégé, "Over here, Daniel." Leaning back, he waited for the other man to take a seat, then folded his hands. "I have to admit, I've kind of forgotten where we left off last time, sooo what do you want to work on? Another paper?"

"Uhh... keep the change," Wildcard said as he scooped up his order, taking it outside. He placed everything but his own sandwich on the sidewalk for the herd of rodents. "Here you go, alright?"

"Nuh-uh." The redhead was shaking her head fiercely. The dark-haired agent, Oscar Bushnell, handling her case had a look of pure exasperation on his face. Toby Snow, having recently given herself the name of Heavy Metal, was sitting in her room, that was plastered wall to wall in posters, pin-ups, and drawings of comic book heroes, rock bands, and cartoon characters, to the point that he honestly found himself wondering what color the walls used to be in here. This had been her room for at least six years, and she'd certainly taken the offer to "make it feel like home" to heart. She was also intensely defensive of letting anyone actually come in the room, but Agent Bushnell had figured out long ago that bribing her with the latest issue of whatever comic book she'd gotten fascinated with always allowed entry.

At the moment, though, having just gained himself access with some bizarre-looking Japanese comic book that he couldn't even see English words on, he could tell that the thing he'd come to talk to her about had displeased her greatly, and he was starting to wish he'd been assigned to...any other of the young wards in training here, instead of her.

"You've got to," he said, voice completely drained of emotion.

"I don't wanna."

"Well, you've gotta."

"But I don't wanna."

"But you've GOTTA."

"But I don't WANNA."

"Toby..."

"You-you never said I would have to work with people, Oscar. I was not trained to work with other people."

"You knew this day was going to come-,"

"Yes, and from the time I was a kid, I've been trained solo. I didn't learn all those fancy gymnastics and how to hack up someone with an axe without chopping off my own leg and do all of that for being part of a team. You never told me I would be around other people. I'm not good with that. I'm perfectly okay with getting sent out to the streets by myself, doing the superhero thing, helping preserve the peace and whatever, and I want to, I'm ready. I've been ready since I graduated. But-,"

"The other folks know how to handle themselves."

"Oscar, I wave around a big. Axe. When I fight. So long as I've got my tunes, I can handle it if I accidentally kneecap myself, but what if I hit someone else? You'll get your ass sued, and I couldn't handle the guilt. I mean, it's one thing to hack up a bad guy, that's actually kinda fun, especially the robot ones, because you can hit them just right and they'll start talking all slow and singing about daisies, but if it's another good guy-,"

"TOBY."

"Ugh. Whaaaaat."

The dark-haired man in front of her pinched the bridge of his nose, looking as though he were silently counting, then looked back at the young woman standing in front of him. "No registered hero that we've put out has started all by themselves."

"Yes they have."

"Well...you're not going to."

"Captain America fights by himself."

"Captain America is a comic book character."

"No he's not. He's real. And I'm gonna find him, and I'm gonna marry him, and we're gonna make little Cap babies, and I'm going to teach them all to point at you and laugh and say 'ha ha Agent Oscar, you said Daddy wasn't real'. Then you'll see."

"Yes, I'm sure that day will come." The obviously harangued man just sighed again. "Well, on paper, you are technically being sent out on your own recognizance...so you can at least take that. It's just that your orders are that you will do your very very best to try and follow the examples set by other registers who have been doing this longer than you and have more experience, so that you can gain the experience you need to really be a full-fledged super."

The redhead blew a raspberry, quite clearly rolling her eyes. "Fine. But if I hurt anyone, you're the one who's gonna be paying for it."

"I pay for it every day I work with you. Now let's get you suited up and ready to go."

—

So now the fledgling superheroine known as Heavy Metal found herself on the sidewalk outside a strange little business, staring up at the name above the door, squinting at it. No one would be able to see that part of her expression, thanks to the large sunglasses over her face, and if anyone around were to comment, their noise would fall on deaf ears...or rather, ears that were filled with an audible burst of noise from the large earphones doubling as a hairband. Nor the fact that she was, frankly, dressed like she was on her way to a particularly raucous concert, what with the spiked wrist bands and black denim over hints of pink clothing. A few people looked twice at the large axe clutched in one of her hands, or the two smaller tomahawks fastened at her belt, but most simply brushed her off and continued on their daily business.

She was supposed to have gone in already. But at the moment she was far too distracted with trying to reason out just how the hell one was supposed to pronounce "Shawarma" to remember that she was supposed to be finding other registered heroes and introducing herself. Oscar had said this restaurant was a good place to start looking, but...seriously how the hell did you pronounce that name?

As Heavy Metal walked into the restaurant, the large burly man quickly gave her a fierce glare, though there also seemed to be some attention on her axe.

"...Unless you are applying for a job cutting meat," said the man, "in which case we would very much appreciate someone who knows how to use such a large axe, you are to leave all possible weapons of any kind outside the confines of this building. If you do not do so, we will use our own axes, knives, and cleavers in a way that you will not personally appreciate in any way, shape, or form." His face showed absolutely so sign of humor or sarcasm whatsoever.

edited 17th May '12 4:17:43 AM by kkhohoho

The redhead contemplated the large man a moment, blinking at him, then finally reached up and peeled off one of the headphones over her ears, raising an eyebrow as if asking him to repeat that. "Sorry?"

The man simply stared at her with an unmoving gaze, then repeated, "...Unless you are applying for a job cutting meat — in which case we would very much appreciate someone who knows how to use such a large axe, — you are to leave all possible weapons of any kind outside the confines of this building. If you do not do so, we will use our own axes, knives, and cleavers in a way that you will not personally appreciate in any way, shape, or form."

edited 17th May '12 4:22:19 AM by kkhohoho

"Uhhhh...pfft. Okay. Is there a designated area I should leave them or is it just a case of 'leave it in the street and hope nobody steals it' kinda thing?" She pulled her headphones down around her neck, letting other folks get a slight earful of some chaotic music playing.

The large man cocked an eyebrow at the axe-wielding girl, then suddenly stretched out his arm in a blur, his hand now open. Speaking again in that deep voice, he said, "You will put your axe in my hand. I will then take the axe into the back. When you are ready to leave, you will ask for your axe, and I will give it back to you. If you do not give me your axe, we will beat you senseless with Shawarma meat." The man's gaze at the girl continued, never faltering...

Heavy Metal nodded slowly...then kind of chuckled, coming forward and handing over the axe, taking a moment to detach both tomahawks, twirling them once before giving them up as well. "I like you. You're kinda awesome. All right, here ya go. Just be careful, I keep those really, really sharp."

In response to the girl's last statement, the large man gave her a quick glare, then ran his pinky finger straight along the blade of the ax. He then held his pinky finger straight up; there was not even a single scratch to be found. The man then lumbered back into the storage room, taking the axe with him as he walked, before coming back to the counter.

"Your order?"