Tawna (Cascadia) - Vacation Planning in Emerald City
Now that her friends and teammates had gotten off the call, it was just Tawna and Coco left, Tawna chilling in her armchair and browsing on her phone.
"You'd think for a city of heroes, there'd be more hero stuff to do when you're not on the clock. I'm not seeing anything like that though. Anything interesting on your end?"
"Maybe they can't afford some big meeting hall for everyone. Hero work isn't cheap. And speaking of not cheap, check this out." Forwarding an image to Tawna's phone, of an over the top casino, Coco continued. "Casino Night. Perfect place to lose an entire cup's winnings. If you want to make a statement about opulence and grandeur, that's your best way to do it."
"Good thing Isabella's not here then. I don't think we'd be able to bail her out a second time." Tawna said with a smirk, both her and her friend sharing a laugh together.
Proud member of the AGOG community.2B was reaching for the bread, ready to to take the first bite, as a blue rodent thing slammed into the table, destroying it, eating her bread, and then spitting on her. It said.....something.
Then they stared at one another. It seemed to be waiting, almost in anticipation of her reaction. Yet her expression remained stone faced, her lips not even moving. There was a nice, long, tense moment.
Then, with reflexes faster then any human, 2B's hand shot out without warning, attempting to grab the alien by the scuff of his neck and lift him into the air in an iron grip. If she did so, she'd lift him up to eye level.
"I was eating that." She said in a flat tone.
Cheesecake Factory, Ground Floor: I Know Baby You Can't Lick It
...hmmm. Well, so much for an explosive reaction. Blindfold just sat there. Blindfolded. Had he not made enough of a stink? Speaking of stink, couldn't she smell him?! Living in a dump for several weeks hadn't given him the most pleasant of scents...
But just when the alien started to consider switching to another victim, she lunged at him faster than any human he'd ever seen! The little vandal cackled in surprise and excitement; this was much better!
Dangling in the air with only 2B's robot strength to hold him, the alien answered Blindfold's disgruntled comment in the most appropriate way he knew how. That bread sure was yummy; he let his captor know that by loudly belching in her face! If she was blind short-sighted enough to hold him close to her face, he'd add insult to injury and try to give one great big lick! Though whether or not he could douse that silly cloth over her eyes with slobber was secondary. Hardly a moment after he burped and gave 2B a great big doggy kiss, the alien swung his feet back and tried to use the momentum to ram into the robot's chest. If successful, he would use those surprisingly powerful stubs he calls legs to launch himself off of 2B, hopefully freeing himself from her grip in the process.
Should his freedom be regained (for the moment, at least), the alien would scurry away from 2B and turn his attention to the slight crack in the men's bathroom door. Unfortunately for Miss Hayes, his long ears weren't just for show—the little vandal could detect a few soft noises (a heartbeat, quiet breathing, the small shift of shoes against the tiled floor) coming from right behind that door.
Aww. Too shy to come out and play? That's okay. The fun will come to you!
Hopefully Serena's glimpse of the chaos would pick up the alien rushing over to an abandoned bar stool, ripping it from it hinges, and throwing it like a javelin seat first into the men's room door.
Cheesecake Factory
Godzilla jumped over the little devil and fell on towards the ground below. She noticed Freakazoid was below her, so she decided to do some improvisation. Before she smushed the totally 90s hero, she grabbed him with her long lizardy tail. She fell onto the ground with a thud that everyone nearby could hear. She uncoiled her tail soon after, letting the totally 90s hero out of her grasp.
"There's too many squishy people in this city," she grumbled.
Not generally being one for conversation, the kaiju lady ran back inside and grew until she could only just fit in the building.
"Give up you little gremlin," she growled. She swiped at the little blue devil, hoping to have more luck this time.
Curtis Knox - Cheesecake Factory
That little bugger is still causing a havoc. Two or three people are already confronting that beast. A lizard girl, some dark-skinned Arabian with purple hair and some blind girl with white hair wearing a tasteless outfit.
Curtis slowly approaches the tiny fuzzball. If he's lucky, Vandal will attempt to pie the annoying bear-thing in the face.
“She's correct. Give up now!”
The little rodent thing managed to kick his way out of her grip, and left her lower face and visor soaked with.....whatever nasty stuff consisted of his saliva. She reached down, grabbed a rag, and slowly wiped her face off. Once done, she got up.
"I believe the sign said "No pets allowed.""
Then she jumped, her feet impacting the nearest wall, which she ran along for a few steps. Then she bent her knees, and kicked off of it, flying at the blue alien with a flying dropkick with her hardened, metal boot, aimed directly for his head.
It was rather hard to understand what that blue thing was doing, but it seemed to be the one mostly responsible for the entire commotion going on outside. It just kept running around, kicking and screaming and breaking things while everyone else tried to contain it. It was pretty impressive to see how it moved around, climbing the walls and ripping stools off their hinges and... turning around to throw them at...
...oh no.
For a brief instant Serena considered shutting the door altogether, but if the throw was too strong the stool could bring the whole thing down nonetheless, so instead she kicked it wide open and moved out of the way, allowing the stool to fly unimpeded through the doorway and smash violently well inside the bathroom itself. With her hiding spot compromised, the girl had no choice but to venture out into the restaurant proper. She did, however, have a good idea of what to do next.
From what she could see, her contractor was not in there. Which meant he was either outside with all the other people who had been evacuated, or he had already fled. The only way for her to know for certain was to help diffuse the situation without busting her cover, and see if he happened to walk back in once everything was resolved. However, she could not simply resort to throwing knives at the small menace until it died; that would out her as someone with training. She needed to appear as normal as possible. Perhaps in the guise of a reckless fool.
For that purpose, she snatched a tablecloth from a nearby table, and quickly ran to aid in the capture of the blue furball, putting herself in position to dive upon in case it somehow managed to get away from the absurd amount of attacks aimed towards it.
"...yay...baby's first words..."
Sprawled across the ground, aching from the long fall down, Freakazoid remains bewildered and delirious for much of the fight. Barely does he even notice when he becomes bound in the tail of the dragon lady men call Gojira. But at last, our alleged hero begins to stir, and rises to his feet, massaging his head, just in time to see the little blue fuzzball being set upon by four different superhumans at once.
"AAAGH! SHNOOKUMS, NO!"
And a Strange Figure Emerges.The Cheesecake Factory
While the restaurant erupted into chaos, Nyaruko continued to sit at the table and devour her chocolate cake as if nothing was wrong, although she was wearing a look of intense concentration, as though she was trying to remember something.
By the time everyone was dogpiling the alien menace by the bathrooms, Nyaruko had risen to her feet and dashed over, stopping with a skid. "<You!>" she shouted with her hands cupped to her mouth, in as close approximation as she could manage to the language he had been talking in, "<Person blue! Is being Federation from, yes?>"
Edited by darksidevoid on Nov 9th 2019 at 6:36:13 AM
GM: AGOG S4 & F/WC RP; Co-GM: TABA, SOTR, UUA RP; Sub-GM: TTS RP. I have brought peace, freedom, justice, and security to my new Empire.Cheesecake Factory, Ground Floor: I'm All Shook Up!
The alien laughed as the human was forced to abandon her hiding spot behind the bathroom door, only for the laughter to come to a sudden halt. One of his long ears twitched towards a familiar sound—no, not just a sound, a word! A word in the standard language of the United Galactic Federation! Sure, the accent was shoddy and the dialect near unintelligible, but someone was talking to him all the same!
The shock of finding another alien on this backwater planet compelled him to turn towards Nyaruko. Those who had a moment to notice might notice recognition in the vandal's black eyes, and his mouth preparing to give an answer that wasn't spitting or drooling on someone. But that moment passed quickly—because nearly every superhuman in the joint banded together to deck the little guy.
First came another human food thrown at his face; another present from Scar. A harmless slight (and a tasty treat!), but one that turned the alien's attention away from Blindfold. Turns out the lady was hiding her true weight all along, since it collided hard against his head and shot him straight into the now giant lizard woman's swatting hand. The force of getting smacked like a pinball twice not only crushed the alien against the floor, it fired him straight into the basement! Alas, the alien lacked Freakazoid's cartoon physics, and the hole left behind did not perfectly fit his shape.
Those who decided to check on the alien (or to ascertain the basement wasn't getting wrecked now, too) would find the little vandal lying supine on the ground, dusted in debris. Judging by the weak groans and sluggish movements of his arms, he was clearly down for the count. He would pass out entirely a few moments after being found, so Serena could be ready to scoop the alien up in her tablecloth and engulf him in the 200 thread count prison.
The battle was over, and the terror caused by Emerald City's littlest vandal had come to a decisive end. Now, all that remained was to collect a reward for a job well done...or to dash out of the restaurant before the manager sees what happened to the goddamn floor!
The Emerald City Dog Fanciers' Show started today, with at least 1,000 purebred dogs in attendance. The show kicked off with the toy group, of which one Ch. World's My Black Oyster Pompenstance, a.k.a. "Paco", a rare chihuahua victor in the group, came out with the gold. There are expected to be 9 other breed groups shown off in the coming days, with Best in Show being decided on the fourth day. Several events are also being held for community attendance, humane awareness and adoption with participation from several of Emerald's shelters and rescues.
Sources reporting from the NHK claim that...
A slow news day. A slow day in general.
A week had passed since the events previously recounted, and aside from minor incidents...people reporting a talking car trying to "liberate" a dealership...a ten year old with a bizarre mechanical monster attempting to rob the local trading card store...stuff that was either dealt with without any real problems going on, no bloodshed, or never even turned into a problem in the first place. Some guy pulled a laser pistol at a Taco Time drive-through but quietly put it away when it turned out that, yes, they did include two ranches instead of one. That kind of minor incident.
The weather had turned more regionally appropriate, overcast skies and mild winds bringing things back down to a fine average temperature of 71 degrees. There wasn't a sun in the sky, and there wouldn't be for a few more days, now.
Things were slow, but that always has a chance of speeding up when you least expect it.
Waking up before even dawn cracked its golden hues over the horizon like always, Kirin's eyes snapped open before the rest of his body smoothly slid out of the pallet in the restaurant's attic. Idly stretching and recalling yesterday's events that ranged from the guarding job that ended too early to the later activity of interest he had undertaken with the rest of the acquaintances from that museum stunt, the ex-assassin mulled over things even as he directly jumped out the window from the second floor...
Only to land softly on the sidewalk outside with a cat's silent tread. Lurking in the stillness that came before morning truely began, the young man's serious countenance was in no way diluted despite the fact he had put on a neon pink hoodie sweat-jacket much like a certain Nintendo boxer.
Exercise was always something that Kirin took completely seriously considering it had a direct correlation on long-term health as well as mission success rates (not to mention it helped in not being dead) so the daily regiment was of utmost importance. With the streets mostly silent, the man ran and weaved throughout the area to the local fish markets from the neighboring area with a pull trolley before coming back after time had shifted back into a more sensible waking hour as evidenced by the various people that were now frequenting the cafes for pick-me-ups before heading to work.
Pacing himself at a steady but still brisk pace despite pulling a wagon loaded up with about a two hundred pound bluefin tuna and various other assorted seafood products on ice, the man known as Cannon Dancer lived the American Dream in his own way, content at what he was doing despite the fact that it was probably not what most other people would consider to be the gold standard of dream living.
Old Pike Hill
Caitlin had slept fairly well that night for once. It wasn't even until she caught the morning news that she realized people may have needed her particular brand of assistance.
After preparing herself a cup of coffee and getting herself ready for the day, she slipped into her work clothes, prepared to face the day ahead. Before stepping outside, she tucked her other suit- a custom-made one, courtesy of her friend Cisco Ramon, that she wore in her other line of work- into her bag. As far as she knew, Cisco was the only person who knew that the costumed vigilante named "Frost" was really her, mild-mannered pediatric opthalmologist Dr. Caitlin Snow. But she kept the suit folded as small as she possibly could, and tucked away in a pocket where it likely wouldn't draw attention even if someone stole her purse. Just in case.
The morning seemed fairly uneventful in her part of town as she drove to work, but if she'd learned anything in these past few months, it was that things were never as uneventful as they seemed.
>^owo^<Strapped on a table. Stomach feeling like its about to burst. His right hand no longer there, replaced with sharp daggers. He tried to get off, but the bindings were too tight. Too tight. Too tight.
A man came out of the door. He seemed to carry...groceries. He would seem normal if it wasn't for the bandages covering half of his face, his right eye glowing green and his left eye being pure white. He noticed that I was awake, as his bandages seemed to contort into a smile.
"Ah, it seems you're awake! And here I thought you wouldn't survive the augmentation procedures." He puts the groceries away as he reaches for a dirty labcoat and puts it on, getting close to me, examining me.
I beg him to let me go. I did him nothing wrong. I'm trying to reform. I'm no longer a criminal. He stared at me, before reaching for what seemed like syringe and a audio cassete. He pressed a button and spoke to it.
"Subject #1088 is still insistent that there is no beast within. But only a disciplined eye could recognize the beast within, yearning for release. Augmentation procedures were a success, now it is time to test if gene splicing with DNA of multiple animals will be successful. First, I must begin with that of a Wolf.."
He then injected that dirty syringe into me, as the pain was unbearable. Too much pain painhunthunthunthuntkillmaimhuntMAIMHUNT-
Warwick suddenly woke up. He....would rather forget this. He wants to forget. There are more important things he needs to focus on, like criminals that need to be punished.
It has been a week since he killed Mr Chun and sabotaged the operation of the Triads. It took him 3 days before his wounds fully healed, but it gave him some time to plan out how to deal with some of the scum of Capitol Hill.
The Gridriron Gang. Just smelling one of them sickens him, these scum do nothing more than harm others or flat out escalate to murder just because their "team" lost or other nonsense that he doesn't care about their stupid sports. What he cares is that their blood should be spilled in the streets, and the people of Capitol Hill can atleast sleep peacefully without the threat of these fools harming them. As for his hideout, he was in a factory. A dirty, run down factory, left behind by some workers who were angered by the low wages and quit. It served as a home. Not what a normal person would call comfortable, but for him, it served his needs.
It seemed it was morning. Well. It is time now. Time to hunt his prey. A particular one. Jeremiah Vaughan. A average gang member of the Gridriron Gang. He has heard rumours that he knows the hideout of their gangs. If he can interrogate him, and then go to their hideout and kill each and every single one of them, that might send a message to those idiots. They aren't intimidated by the average hero, as they know they will escape in a few weeks. But one of their members head rolling off the streets by a monster? That sure will.
But first, he has to go to where he is. Of course, knowing the hour, and studying his prey, he would be laying on the streets after being kicked out of the Munchkins Sports Bar due to a brawl. He headed out of the factory, climbing to the rooftops of the factory, making his way to Capitol Hill for his mark.
After the events of the cheesecake factory, 2B, after some consideration of her next move and seeing an ad, decided to register under the city's local hero ordinance. That is, once she was done waiting for morning. Sometimes not having to sleep stunk. At least she was first in line. There was some minor complaints about her lack of "ID" or any form of citizenship papers, but someone must have seen the news yesterday with her stopping that bank robbery, and after a bit of back and forth, she was given a pass.
The next couple of days were spent hunting for a location to make a base. As it turns out, living costs go down by a substantial margin when you requite a bare minimum of ammenties. She eventually settled on a storge unit on the waterfront, instantly earning weird looks when she annonced her intend to live there. More arguing was had, this time with the company complaining that their units were not approved for humans to live in them, and 2B arguing she wasn't a human.
This ended when some idiot teenager walked in with a laser sword he'd apparantly brought off of the internet and tried to rob the place, only for 2B to scare him off by doing nothing but stare at him and cross her arms. Public Storage then decided to quietly ignore the fact that 2B was using a storge unit as housing, so long as the rent came in on time.
She found she had far more money leftover then she expected. So she brought more units. One in each major district of the city. After that, the next couple of days were spent outfiting them for their purpose, repair bays for her. She didn't need to eat, sleep, rest, any of that, so anything else was unnecessary in her eyes.
Then, the the day before today, she'd caught sight of some fishermen out on the waterfront, and goten curious enough to try it herself. Probably as a result of her waiting until the dead of night to fish, she somehow managed to catch a huge fish somewhere in the realms of 100 pounds.
And so now she was wandering through the fish markets. Pod was floating behind her, the giant fish still moving on his line, held under him.
Attention: Fish for sale! Please inquire for prices!
2B was getting more then a few weird looks. She wasn't the usual sort to wander the markets, hawking her wares. And there was at least one guy who was clearly trying to see under her skirt when her back was turned.
Emerald City Dog Show: You Ain't Nothing but A Hound Dog
Things...could've gone better for the little alien.
Hours after his trail of chaos came to a swift and annoying end, the alien found himself waking up in a small box with a grid of metal wire on the front; he would later come to learn it was called a "pet crate," and over the next seven days he would spend far more time in this vehicle than he would ever want to. Breaking out of the cheap plastic prison would've been effortless, were it not for the splitting headache he'd endured at the Cheesecake Factory. Besides, in the hours following his return to consciousness, the alien could hear the voices and footsteps of more than three dozen humans. Without having much but sound to go on, there was always a risk that one of those super humans would be nearby; after all, it's not like he wound up in this cage by accident.
One could say that he learned something from his antics at the museum and the restaurant: don't start wrecking stuff until it's clear there aren't any heroes around.
A few hours of nothing, and some humans wearing matching dark blue uniforms came in and carried the alien's crate through the building. They set the crate down on a table facing a man in a dress who sat on the highest seat in the mostly empty room. Seems somebody thinks they're important!
The man in the dress started making a long winding trail of human noises, then suddenly shut up and stared at the alien. Were his head aching a little less, the alien might've recognized the upward inflection in those final words, which signified a question. Fortunately for the alien note , he said nothing; those big black eyes just stared back at those brown beady ones. A few moments of silence later, and the man in the dress started talking to people outside the alien's line of sight. The crate was picked up and brought to a big car, which transported the alien to a new building with many more crated creatures—creatures he would soon learn were called "dogs," "puppies," "little guys," "cutie pies," "doggos," "puppers," "woofers," "doges," "bozers," "borkers," "poopers," "ozer-cadozer bozers," "widdle shmuckie wookems"note and "mutts."
His fellow inmates weren't exactly fond of the little alien. He was placed in a large cage with several of these creatures, and about three seconds later, the alien had scared one of his cellmates half to death—though in the alien's defense, that animal had tried to stick its nose in a place it reeeally shouldn't have.
Unfortunately, the humans had witnessed the display and reprimanded the alien in the one way it truly feared: sudden sprits of water in the face! By some unforeseen means, these primitive bipeds had uncovered his overwhelming fear of water, and learned to weaponize it. They had armed themselves with a deterrence not even the United Galactic Federation had thought to acquire! INGENIOUS!
Yet the torment didn't stop there; a single day into his sentence, the alien discovered just how sinister these humans could be. They placed him in a pet crate, and brought him into a room with a metal bowl with some holes in the bottom, surrounded by bottles with little spouts and a paw with tiny holes tethered over the bowl by a hose. It was here that the alien first heard a word that would strike terror into his little heart for the rest of his life:
BATH.
At first he tried to escape the spontaneous downpour, but there were two humans holding him in place and a third attempting to drown him! Sort of; they mostly just got his fur uncomfortably heavy and sopping wet. The alien threw a slew of colorful curses at his tormentors, but they seemed to brush the taunts off as something amusing.
Then came the substance he came to dread as much as water itself: soap! Lathering his fur in a frothy substance that smelled weird and made his eyes sting when it got too close, the alien quickly concluded that this was some sort of bacteria nibbling away at his flesh! He swiftly shifted from curses to bargaining, to pleas, to a cry for mercy! What did they want?! Weapons?! UGF security codes?! Jumba's secret stash of Flagobian pudding?! He'd give them anything! ANYTHING! Just make this torment stop!!!
Sure enough, it did stop—but not without another lousy attempt at drowning him, and some very strong and very loud brushes with hot air. His pleas had been addressed with the same bemusement as his curses, and soon the alien was back in his crate as if nothing had happened. Truly, the humans running this prison had nerves of steel.
Little else happened for the next week. The alien begrudgingly consumed the pellets of dry and salty garbage the humans fed him (he had come to miss Scar throwing generous helpings of human food at him), and largely kept away from the other animals. Not that his fellow inmates minded, of course; they had learned to give him a wide berth.
Then the day of the day of the Dog Show arrived, and whether it was a mix-up in paperwork or the possibility that the Emerald City Animal Control took some notes from Pawnee Indiana
, the alien was among the dogs brought out for adoption.
And so the little-creature-of-chaos-turned-convict-turned-adorable-fuzzy-orphan stared up at the humans who passed by, tilting his head in curiosity as all the other dogs cowered as far from the alien (and their would-be adopters) as possible.
City Center, Central Park
Boredom. A sensation one wouldn't think to experience in a city like this, but when a week went by with barely a blip on the news of anything enticing or any situations in need of a helping hand, it was a sensation Tawna was getting uncomfortably familiar with. She could only stay at home and tune up her engines or practice her fighting techniques for so long, and she'd barely been up for a few hours as it was. Clearly it was time to get out of the house.
And so, a short ride later, a civilian dressed Tawna found herself in the park, content to just be a normal woman today, circumstances allowing; thus far, the most excitement she'd had was helping some children get their cat out of a tree...and honestly, the cat put up more of a fight than those Beetles did, much to Tawna's private amusement. A small act of charity this might have been, but seeing the grateful smiles on the kid's faces...it helped remind her that yes, there was more to heroism than property damage. Watching the kids dart off to go play, Tawna opted to sit down beneath the tree, now thankfully vacated of felines that might pounce on her, and contented herself with watching the rest of the public, a gentle smile on her face.
Proud member of the AGOG community.Fremont morning markets
Costumed figures patrolling the rooftops and sidewalks were a common sight for the early-bird shoppers at Fremont. After all, the people who ran the markets liked it when they had a visible superhero presence - crime deterrence and extra publicity in one neat package.
Today, the patrolling superhero was Black Cat, now clad in a new costume
◊* , trailing black mist as she conjured shadowy cables to swing from rooftop to rooftop, her black-masked face scanning the packed streets below. With her night owl tendencies, she often found herself well-suited to watching over the area as the stalls were set up in the early morning. Eventually, someone else would arrive and take over patrols until the markets packed up in the afternoon.
A few stall-owners waved her way, and she nodded in return as she passed. Black Cat had never liked the spotlight very much, but it was kinda nice to be appreciated sometimes. Especially when that appreciation was shown with free packages of fresh fish from the seafood markets.
... Speaking of which, those should be coming up on her route. Smiling a little under her mask, she flicked another cable from her hand and swung in towards the smell of fish and the distant cries of hawkers.
—
There was an oddly muffled clunk as Black Cat landed atop a lamp-post near 2B and her onlookers, followed by a stare and a pointed clearing of the throat aimed squarely at the one who was was taking onlooking a little too far. She even threw in a little sinister shadow-distortion just to send the guy scurrying as she settled into a deftly-balanced crouch on top of the lamp.
The pale woman she would have pegged as a cape with that outfit, but all she seemed to be doing was trying to sell a truly gargantuan fish. Black Cat cocked her head slightly, her ears perked forwards in interest.
"That's a very impressive catch," She told the lace-clad woman, letting the distortion drop from her voice, "but I'm not sure they like people selling without a stall and a permit."
City Center - Central Park ~ Thoughts in Motion
As befitting of one so heavily invested in public appearances, the past week had been a busy one for Mammoth Mogul and everyone under his employ. For Mogul himself, it was simply not because running Casino Night was an exhaustive effort, but his plans required the utmost attention. In a way it was a blessing that nothing truly ground shaking had occurred over the past week, for it freed him to focus on the things that mattered. In another way it was a curse, for there was nothing new for him to work with.
So far his information seeking had proven a disappointment. For more than a couple there was nothing but the basics, and some didn't even have that. However, he was well aware that things were often not that simple. If he wanted these tools to use, he simply had to approach the problem from a different angle. He hadn't survived for millennia by giving up the second a problem presented itself.
Even so, even a mind of his brilliance needed respite. It was for that reason that he found himself enjoying a walk through the City Center's most prominent park. Cultured as he may had been, the wild never truly left the mammoth even if the mammoth hadn't lived in the wild for many a human lifespan, and he still enjoyed staying in touch with nature. Plus, the fact that a presence as imposing as his demanded attention, and no matter how long he had lived in Emerald City the sight of him never failed to turn heads, was healthy for his ego. It had occurred to him that he could simply use an illusion to avoid the hassle of an awestruck public, but to do so would deny them the majesty of his visage.
As fortune would have it, he would be presented with something a little more than a brief escape.
Not long into his walk, he came upon the sight of a young woman helping some children retrieve their cat from a tree. He watched the proceedings with interest, but not because he was concerned with the children's fears or the cat's welfare. No, it was because of the woman. Not only was she more animal than human, already interesting enough on its own, but she just so happened to look awfully similar to one of the heroes from a week prior. She had helped protect an armored car from those insect-loving hooligans, if his memory was correct.
She hadn't been the one who had caught his attention the most then, but an opportunity was an opportunity. Why squander it?
"That was a good deed you did there," he called out to her from the sidewalk, deep and imposing voice carrying an appreciative tone, "Even if it was but a minor act, it's always pleasant to see those willing to assist the public."
Edited by Yomegami on Nov 15th 2019 at 5:40:09 AM
Icon by Civvi the Civilian!Ryo Saeba - Timeskip
Ryo didn't found anymore lead about his mysterious calling card, so he chose to ignore it for the time being. He had other things to bother with than possibly magic pieces of paper, after all.
Like work, for exemple. The second day after the whole festival fiasco, he had been hired by a truly wonderful woman with a mean right hook. She wanted him to deal with a gang of thugs themed around football. The Gridriron Gang, as they called themselves, killer her fiancee, and she wanted justice to be served no matter how. And he was more than glad than to make people pay for making a lady cry. If they weren't dead by the end of the experience, they would remember it for the rest of their lives.
He heard from his usual informant where to find one of them: a goon named Jeremiah would usually be around the Munchkins Sports Bar. Finding and interrogating him wouldn't be much of a problem for City Hunter. So after eating his breakfast and drinking a strange mixture made out of alcohol and raw egg, he left his apartment and set out with his trusty red car towards Capitol Hill.
Edited by Alecoene on Nov 15th 2019 at 12:07:41 PM
Chinatown
-Toph emerges from the stygian gloom of her apartment, her cane in one hand and a grocery basket in the other. The door creaks shut on rusty hinges, bolts sliding into place from behind, before she heads out for the Pike bus. Another week, another game of "Spot the Liar" with unhygienic fishmongers trying to pass two-week-old herring as freshly-caught tuna.-
Edited by Chabal2 on Nov 15th 2019 at 5:26:59 PM
2B turned to look at the woman who had suddenly stopped to get her attention, not noticing the skirt chaser running away as fast as his legs could carry him, shouting something about "Demons" or whatever. The locals ignored him, one shaking his head as he lopped a fish in half.
"Permit?" 2B asked. "What's a permit?"
Scanning......a permit is a legal document, granting permission to an individual or organization to preform a task. In this case, selling fish in this area appears to require one.
"Oh......." She frowned and crossed her arms in annoyance "Well, what am I supposed to do with this thing then? It's too big for me to eat on my own.
Pod floated closer to Blake, bringing the sweet smell of the fish closer to her, while remaining out of easy grabbing range. Proposal: You- He clearly points at Blake -should buy this product. Haggling sub-routines have been activated.
Edited by Meanken on Nov 15th 2019 at 4:51:18 AM
Slowing down as he heard some sounds that were a bit out of the norm, the neon-pink wearing montage runner glanced at the position of the sun in the sky before deciding he had just enough time to spare before heading in with the catch of the day. Pulling the seafood wagon behind him, what met his line of sight were two women with face concealing accessories.
Both were rather interesting to his various senses what with the fact that the white-haired one lacked any visible life energy signature whatsoever and the other one was able to manipulate either shadows or darkness to a great enough degree so as to make identifying certain features rather hard to do so.
The hundred pound fish was also of interest, the thing a veritable monster that perhaps could be put to good use for the daily omakase that his employer was fond of doing. A quick glance at the fish showed it to be freshly caught, though the fact that it was out in the open like this without ice meant that it was already on a time limit as was the wont of most aquatic flesh. "How much?" True to his roots, the man known as Kirin didn't care about it being illegal as long as the product was honest and the laws it broke didn't cause suffering towards others.
Kazuma Kiryu Is Now A Timeskip
It's been a week since his adventure at the museum and a newfound acquaintance of a skittish Italian and a blind fellow countryman. The knowledge that "Doctor" Jones was behind bars provided a welcome reward (he did accept the monetary compensation, however reluctantly). Not much has happened through the next couple of days; just business as usual for Mr. Hajimari. A few fixes here and there, a few calls back home...
Rather embarrassingly, Kiryu found himself yearning for getting caught in another high-octane action. Perhaps not having to kneel down while sandstorm raged in a closed room, but something more down-to-earth. Not that he was going out of his way to look for a fight. And yet, his idle walk took him to Capitol Hill. Enjoying a smoke on his way to nowhere, Kiryu regarded the entertainment district with some nostalgia, reminiscing of the days gone by back in Kamurocho. Felt like yesterday.
Capitol Hill might not have been as lavish as Kamurocho, and the morning aura took away what little splendor it had, but it still felt nostalgic all the same.

Cheesecake Factory: Crush It, Kick It, You Can Never Win
As the alien swung the blue-skinned superhero out of the park...or at least off the second floor balcony, some sort of green goop was splattered over the back of his head! The alien dropped his table/bat in surprise, which fell with a (thankfully harmless) thud! at the edge of the balcony.
Like any canine-like creature, the alien immediately investigated the goop with some inquisitive sniffing. Then, like any canine-like creature, he began to eat it immediately after that. The dip could use less garlic; it's not like they were afraid of vampires, right?
His fluffy coat cleaned and his free snack eaten, the alien then turned to what he should've addressed three seconds ago: Scar had thrown food at him! The little vandal had half a mind to return the favor ten fold—maybe by throwing an entree, or two, or six—but the other half had found a kernel of knowledge in the slight: the concept of retaliation.
The alien had thrown food at Scar. In response, Scar had thrown food at the alien. But what if the alien were to throw something more than food? Like a chair, or a table? Would Scar return the favor? And what if the alien were to throw things at more humans? Would they throw things back at him? They wouldn't be able to catch him, obviously; he was an unstoppable creature of chaos! But he could expedite this restaurant's destruction by getting more and more people in on the carnage. They'd be wrecking this place almost as much as he'd be! HahahahaHA!
So the little vandal decided to spark more retaliation from hopping off the balcony and nope wait why was a scaly-tailed lady charging straight for him?! Godzilla's tackle was impressive for a varsity football player, it was also hopelessly predictable. The alien just scurried along the railing with its bug-like agility, and the nuclear powerhouse was left to swan-dive off the balcony empty-handed. Maybe Freakazoid would break her fall!
Wasting no more time, the alien chose a new victim and leaped from the balcony. His target: 2B's table. It smashed apart on impact, since the alien landed on it with a lot more force than a creature his size should have. While the blind girl's cheesecake hadn't been delivered yet, she had been given complimentary bowl of bread to munch on in the meantime—an appetizer that the alien scavenged among the splintered boards, crammed into its large mouth, chewed with a very loud "NAM NAM GNYAM MAM MAM!", and finally spat onto 2B's lap!
He grinned at his mischievous work and stared at the android's blindfold.
She was going to be sooooo mad! This'll be great!