Golden Age of Heroes - Now It's Showtime!

Addisu decided now was a good time, and chucked a car at Namacuix's arm, using his powers to make hitting his intended target easier, via more speed.

edited 25th Jul '15 11:54:55 PM by Tojin

Skullface made a rasping noise similar to a grunt and stepped into the "elevator." As it began to descend, Skullface found its eyes drawn to the gun on its companion's belt. Partially out of desperation to break the silence, Skullface spoke up, "Are you a hero, gas-mask-wearer?"

Joviality - Cafe

Neheressa's eyes snapped open. Of course, the terrans wouldn't heed a word from a superior being. Very well, she thought as she stood up, shrugging off her disguise, they will be quiet when she kills them. In a swift move she would leap up and ignite her Zap-stick to strike at the shrieking Namacuix. Her bludgeon sparked with energy as she swung from the air.

edited 26th Jul '15 12:41:36 AM by Sanojutsu

Civility: Art Gallery

"I'd like to think so," said Strike-Back. "I used to be a policeman in New York. But then when I fought in the war, I realized that sometimes justice means working outside the system. I should have realized it before; just look at any big-time Mafia family. Those guys make millions off of protection rackets, money laundering, gambling, drugs...and yet even though everybody knows who's running all that, it can take the police years to actually arrest those people. And even when they go to court, they can bribe and scare the jury into a not guilty verdict. The only court that can truly bring justice to those sorts of people is the courtroom of the streets. I'm just trying to be an agent of that justice."

If Strike-Back hadn't been wearing a mask, Skullface would have seen the man looking soulfully up at the ceiling of the elevator. The elevator stopping and opening its doors snapped him out of that gaze, however, and as he stepped out, a new question came to mind.

"Would you consider yourself a hero, too?"

The vast majority of what Strike-Back said sailed right over Skullface's metaphorical head. He had apparently been a cop before; that was good. But he had quit because... he thought they were weak? There was so much it didn't understand and its companion's speech only made that clearer. What it did understand was Strike-Back's own question. Skullface followed after him, "Of course."

Modernity

"Hey, that's fine. I can get behind that." Death Grip pulled into high gear and shot off into the city. "Let's get you over to my man."

The car raced down Modernity's streets, headed for Tranquility. The other island had a tendency to bleed wealth over to its neighbors; prices climbed block by block, and eventually Death Grip pulled them in front of a lavish two-story clothes shop situated right on the street. No shady back alleys here. Giacomo's Tailors. Fine clothes by appointment only. It combined the feel of both a parlor and a fortress; the windows were warmly glowing and beautifully accented with brass frames, but had small slots to deploy iron bars from the inside. The door had an artisinal sign listing opening times and phone numbers, but no knob—a little hatch up top though, reminiscent of old speakeasies. Death Grip rapped smartly straight on the hatch.

"Yeah?" The hatch slid open enough to reveal a pair of sunglasses. At night. Nice.

"It's Death Grip. Obviously." Death Grip tilted his head. "Got a new hire for Miz Calzaretta here." He waved an arm behind himself. "Password this week's Grouper, right?"

"'Sright. Get in here." The door swung inwards, and Death Grip ushered Silver Light inside. The interior of Giacomo's was lit just as warmly as the windows suggested, illuminated by old antique lamps. The main floor was decorated with rows and rows of clothes racks, divided roughly by gender and color.

"Okay, so here's the deal." Death Grip explained as the door closed behind them. "Here's where your average goon gets their shit. Really nice suits, all made custom without tags or anything else that can be tracked. Very nice. Upstairs, however, we've got a nice selection of tailors that can make you your own custom outfit. I see you're into the civvie look, though, so just lemme know what you're interested in and I'll see what I can do."

"Oh, look, she's starting to reform!" Stanley tapped the comic's page as it depicted viscera sliding around in dramatically-lit urban scenes. "It's sort of unclear where she is now, but not for much longer. What we're gonna do is split into two teams." He popped the car's trunk and pulled out a box of walkie-talkies. "Everyone take one to stay in contact, on channel 4. I'm not sure what you all can do, but I need fliers in the air, on recon, and a ground team on the streets. I'll be in my cruiser, coordinating the both of you and offering fire support. Soon as the comic gets just a little bit clearer we can target her again. What I propose before then, though, is that we do a circular search pattern, radiating outward from here, until we can pinpoint her location. Sound good?"

The goon dully looked at his watch. "6 exactly, looks like. I'll get them to buzz you in."

The compound had an outer and inner gate, with Niko currently at the outer—a circular wall of plain brick, with guardhouses every couple hundred feet around. As the gates opened, ornate wrought-iron things, the inner space was revealed—a thirty-yard stretch of open grass, with a pair of higher watch towers at the other end, the second gate between them. Beyond that lied the Calzaretta Estate proper. A spotlight lit Niko up from the left watchtower.

"Arright." The guard behind him stated. "Just run up to the gate, and our rep'll take it from there. Precautions, of course." The gates on the other end opened up, and a bald man with dark skin and a plain suit waved to Niko.

Lincoln Museum

Taking one of the walkie talkies, Hurricane nodded. "I can take to the air as one." With a slight salute, she skipped backwards, landing on a current of air that swiftly drifted her upwards as she began to search the streets.

edited 26th Jul '15 2:37:34 PM by SolusLupus

Abe Lincoln Museum - Taking Action!

"Rooftop's mine. That oughta gimme an eye on the streets," Jerry clipped the walkie-talkie onto his jacket. "Also, put in a call to the Century Tower with this number." He flipped Stanley a calling card with the blue-and-gold angel insignia of the mysterious Club. "Ask for the twins and tell 'em I sent you. They might be able to give us what we need on our perp."

He brandished his grapnel gun and fired it into the roof, letting it carry him into the darkening sky and beyond.

Civility: Art Gallery

Underneath his mask, Strike-Back smiled.

"Then I think we'll get along just fine. All right, let's figure out what's happening here."

With that, he ran outside towards where he guessed the woman had fallen.

Civility-running.

Hearing a door open the Queen of Diamonds sent back several earth shocks that tore up the ground on their path to the general vicinity of the alley way she had just run from before reaching the stairs down to the subway and sliding down the railing.

Joviality: Café - Batholomew Forrester

Bart immediately scurried back once the table had lifted, narrowly missing the furniture smashing against the ground. "Sorry, but I'm real stubborn 'bout keepin' my fate around as long as possible."

He got ready to aim another shot before both Addisu and a strange alien woman attacked the spider man simultaneously. Blinking, he quickly got up and darted over to Addisu's side. "Think that's our cue to skedaddle!"

Civility: Art Museum

Unfortunately for the leisurely time taking superheroes, the mysterious woman who fell was long gone. Rewinding back, Vy had floated back from Queen of Diamonds' swing, still in mid motion. If it had been another night, the space princess might've chased the gentlelady thief for fun and curiosity, but it had to wait - she had a nice little package to deliver and only a few days to get it nice and ready! Flying between the alleyways, Vyvaen made her way towards Equity, where her civilian hideaway was and she could perform her experimentation in peace. For Strike-Back and Skullface, there would be no sign of her.

Fortunately for them, there was another issue to deal with, one more pertinent to them than the vanished woman - a miniature earthquake lashing out in their direction, leading right to the Queen of Diamonds.

edited 30th Jul '15 12:26:51 AM by Starbound2

"Certainly seems like it. Hop on my wheelchair, it'll get us out of here faster than running."

By The Lincoln Museum

Well, they were looking for her. Go figure.

Hetep-heres did not approve of hiding around like some sort of thug, but the circumstances were forcing her to adapt to the situation or be captured. Two... no, three potential threats... but perhaps something could be done about it.

That filth from Germany, Conductor... he left behind his machine. No one has bothered to contain it either... baffling, to say the least.

Perhaps...

Deciding not to waste any more time, Egyptian queen has made a beeline to the train, intent on putting it online - somehow - and using it as a mode of transportation.

Civility: Art Gallery

Strike-Back looked around. No sign of the woman. Just as that registered, the Queen of Diamonds's earthquake hit him and knocked him on his back. He was uninjured, thankfully, but that was going to hurt in the morning.

As he propped himself up with his elbows and everything started to come into focus, the fire in him started coming back. Something was up, and he wanted in on it. He didn't give a damn what it was, he just wanted to take this rage out on whatever had caused this. He pulled his baton out and started charging, following the path of the cracks and ready to beat the hell out of the first person he saw who looked like they could have caused this quake.

Calzaretta Mansion

Niko gave a nod, before slowly driving past the outer gates. "Lady Calzaretta's security is quite impressive." He mused, parking beside the representative. Unslinging his rucksack, Niko withdrew a metal box the size of a violin case (though slightly wider and taller), the words PRO\\RTY OF CH\R\N \N\\STR\\S were printed on one side, although time had rendered the words partially illegible.

"You know, I really do like what I've already got. I'm sorta attached to it, but..." he said as he put a gloved finger through a large hole in the breast, staring at the worn coat, "I think I'm gonna catch a disease if I wear this thing for too long."

He looked around at the myriad options hanging on the walls, the assorted posters of handsome men in suits and the couple of men shopping at this hour. While he knew he wanted to keep it similar to what he already had on, he just wasn't being inspired by all the assorted plain coats. "You know, I'm not the most creative type. Got any ideas, buddy? I've never really thought of what I'd need for a real super suit..." he said before pulling a fancy brown fedora off of a shelf, handing his ratty aviators cap to a bemused worker, "except for this, I'll look like Dick Tracy with this on. Gotta keep this in the design."

With a thunk from the small toy Chevy truck that had embedded itself halfway into Namacuix's side, and a bonk from the bizarre staff, the brave king was brought to his knees on the sidewalk, the table collapsing in front of him. He tried his best to keep the shooting pain from showing, but aside from his hissing and labored breathing he quickly realized that neither of the escaping humans or the one foolhardy enough to strike at his back would be able to tell what pain looked like for a giant spider.

In his mind, the brash decision to start this whole ruckus made a little more sense. A single sighting of some forager from his kingdom would inspire hunting parties from the human villages. So, if it wasn't some low-ranking gatherer, but the King of Bunoul himself, wouldn't the reaction be proportional? The armies of the human world would be forced to bring out their great weapon, their "bomb". However, this brief series of events had frightened him.

Not only is their technology so advanced to the point that even random people on the street are capable of carrying guns so freely, and the peasants so fearless that a passerby could stand against someone like him, he not only found a little respect for this race, he was terrified for both his life and the prospects of his own race. He brought himself about and looked up at the woman, who not only looked a slight bit different from the rest, her staff was plainly glowing.

It was only 3 days since his arrival into this blasted place, and he had already made enemies with a witch doctor.

Stabilizing himself with one arm, clutching at his wound with another and raising the rest in protest, he shouted in as best of a pleading tone he could manage "Please, oh Magician, do not curse me! I meant no harm to your village!"

Joviality - Sidewalk outside Cafe

Neheressa looked down at the would-be king and rolled her eyes. A superstitious one then? It wouldn't be possible he was mistaking her for one of the members of the occult division. No... It must be he was left in awe of her abilities and technology, primitive people are annoyingly notorious for looking at any sufficiently advanced piece of tech as an item of the mystic... But this could work to her advantage "This is no village of mine" she clarified "But nevertheless I'll pardon you if you would lend your assistance at punishing those other obnoxious terrans" She said pointing at the escaping Addisu and Bartholomew.

Addisu glanced in Namacuix's direction to see if he was planning to attack them... And saw him speaking with some weird glowy chick holding some kind of rod. She was quite plainly bad news. "If you had any qualms about sitting in my wheelchair, you should probably get over them because now we're about to be double-teamed."

Civility: Outside the Art Museum

The pavement cracked as a tremor raced toward Skullface and Strike-Back. The force knocked Skullface off his makeshift feet. This was not a hindrance to it but it was rather galling. Not only had the villain's murderer vanished, but its companion and it were under attack. Not wanting to let the time it spent in the box to go to waste, Skullface began to slither in a snake-like manner after Strike-Back. It ignored surprised glances and frightened screams that came its way. It was totally focused on pursuit.

Modernity: Abraham Lincoln Museum

Sonicwoman clipped a walkie-talkie to her belt. She looked up to wear The Gentleman Avenger had gone, "I can't exactly fly. Guess I'm with him then." She stretched briefly. It was getting late and she hadn't slept too well the night before, but this Nazi would undoubtedly be dangerous if left unchecked. That and she really needed to make rent. Sonicwoman rocketed after Jerry King.

Opportunity: Diner

The bell on the diner's door sounded at the entrance of a man in blue and dark grey robes. The man approached the counter and spoke to a waitress in an overly cheery voice, "Hello dear! Brother Fredrick from Saint Andrew's. I'm here to pick up the daily donation." The woman blanched and averted her eyes to avoided looking at the unnatural grin plastered across the man's face. She motioned for the man to follow her and scurried into the kitchen. The man took a long look around the diner before following. His eyes sparked with amusement when they found John and Felix. He nodded to the two before following after the waitress.

edited 29th Jul '15 10:59:53 PM by Elyzian

Civility: Headed towards the subway

The Queen of Diamonds bobbed and weaved between the passersby as she ran for the train platform, the car pulling up to the platform. She gritted her teeth. Dammit, dammit, DAMMIT! If only I had time to switch clothes. This is higher profile than I like being. The thief poured on the speed as she ran for the train.

Opportunity: Diner

John smiled across the table at Felix. It was quite off-putting given his features. "You know boss, rarely do leads drop so swiftly and effectively into my lap. In fact I half expect this to be a trap. Good thing they don't know how to kill me, right?" The psuedovampire stood and headed towards the door the two had gone through. No one stopped him as he pushed it open, after all, who was going to stop a giant mutant?

edited 29th Jul '15 10:53:57 PM by guyshane

Civility: Subway

Strike-Back ran down into the subway and, spotting someone else running, decided to start chasing after her. That someone just happened to be the Queen of Diamonds, though he didn't realize it. He powered his way through the station and, by some stroke of luck, got close enough to guarantee he could get on whatever train she was headed for.

Civility, Rooftops around Abe Lincoln Museum

There was a buzz in Sonicwoman's walkie-talkie just as she saw a flash of red not too far from her. "Alright, from what we understand from Officer Morrison's comic book, she's gonna be on foot and trying to keep out of our sight. Think one of us should try at the ground level? Would she even know how to use the subway."

edited 30th Jul '15 10:41:54 PM by KR_Vandal

Outside Lincoln Museum

Stanley flipped through his comic book, getting his engine heated up. "Alright, looks like... the Conductor's train, she's headed there!" He said into the walkie-talkie. The cop gunned the engine and peeled out, headed for the front of the thing. Pistol raised with one hand, driving with the other, radio in his lap, Stanley fired off a couple warning shots in Hetep-Heres' general direction. "Keep her away from the train. We want to avoid as much collateral damage as possible."

The guard handed Niko a brown paper sack, heavy with money, and snatched the package. "Alright. Get outta here."

"So what I'm getting here is that your clothes need to be heavy and tough, but still clothes." Death Grip said with a point. "I'm gonna assume it's because of how your powers work, but I'm not going to press on that." He strode into the aisles and held up a mantled leather duster, lined inside with fur. Black, with silver highlights on the seams and the joints. "We can start here as the central part of the design."

He stared at the coat for a few seconds, his hand up to his still bandana-covered chin. He leaned in for a closer look, then out, then bent down and lifted up the front. After a minute's worth of "hmms" and thorough inspection, he turned around to a nearby clerk and said, "Do you have this in brown?"

In a flurry of sudden creativity and a newfound taste for expensive clothing, he started to sample assorted fancy clothing and begin creating his costume from the pieces on the first floor. About 45 minutes later Wyatt stepped out of the changing room for the final time. He was clad completely from head to toe once again, in his fine leather duster, alligator-skin gloves, a pair of matching dress slacks specially reinforced so he wouldn't have to immediately purchase another pair after a day's hard work, the aforementioned fedora and a delicately detailed scarlet kerchief.

Though it was ultimately just a non-filthy and much more costly version of his last suit, his uncovered eyes showed his contentment. "I think that'll be enough for showing you my face," he said, pointing two fingers at his green eyeballs. He took off his hat and quickly donned the old set of tinted aviator goggles from his last suit. "All these needed were a good spitshine, might as well try to save a little bit of money," he said as he secured his dandy headwear. "Though, about that last bit...I'm not paying for this, right?"

Namacuix stood up and plucked the toy car from his side, wincing in a imperceptible arachnid manner. "If that is all you require for me to not pass a curse onto my family line, then I'll see what I can do." He turned and grabbed an obsidian knife from his discarded robe, and raised it to the sun briefly. It wouldn't be too much better than scratching at them with his nails, considering how fragile it was, but he once heard that witch doctors preferred this method of killing. He was not one to question rumors about magic.

The Spider-King started to move at a quick pace to his targets while brandishing his knife in the air. Not at the same quick speeds he could normally attain without being wounded, but easily enough to gain on the two of them.

Civility, Area Around Abe Lincoln Museum

Jerry caught Stanley's buzzing and did the acrobatic version of a doubletake. He cursed. "You mean she got around us? We're en route, just hang on!"

He grabbed his walkie-talkie. "Sonicwoman, we got a contact! Head back to the Abe Lincoln Museum! Officer Morrison's on the trail!"