|
quote:The Legacy  It starts as a dull roar in the distance. Then a massive black shape like a great beetle, barreling down the avenue. In moments the NightCycle screeches to a halt and its rider is vaulting off of it, a momentary shadow outlined in silver against the sun, lands in the middle of a maddened gang dragging an old man into an alleyway. Fight the Good Fight!: 12 • resist or avoid their blows • take something from them She lashes out with a gleaming black rod and the riots fall to the sidewalk, clutching at knees and hands. Ms. Midnight hooks a respirator onto the bottom of her goggles. "Please remain calm!" she shouts through the mask, and immediately rolls her eyes at herself. Another gunshot. She locates the sound and is on the gunman in seconds, tackling him against a car and stripping the pistol from his hands. With a flick of her wrists it lies in pieces on the ground. "One riot, one woman" isn't going to work here. Better idea. A few quick taps at the console on her forearm elicits a series of pops and hisses from the NightCycle. A dozen small metal spheres bounce into the crowd and begin pumping out thick purple smoke. In the haze, she hopes, they won't be able to do anything more than blunder about and fall down. And if they can't see anything, perhaps they won't see what isn't there. A few more taps and the image of a two silver crescent moons, back to back, appears on Frog-Girl's phone. "Frog-Girl. I don't have anything to clear the gas. Don't think it matters. They've been dosed. Smoke should reduce their ability to hurt each other. Still waiting on others. Do you have eyes on target?" Halloween Jack fucked around with this message at 18:10 on Oct 20, 2017 |
#
¿
Oct 20, 2017 18:08
|
|
|
|
| # ¿ Apr 26, 2024 17:47 |
|
|
The squeal of a zipline is all the warning one of Satin's thugs gets before Ms. Midnight comes sailing above the roofline, her knee colliding with the back of his head. She lands on both feet, arriving as if for a manicure appointment. "I would never say that. I would say 'Do not throw tons of concrete down onto civilians.'" She begins adjusting her goggles in an attempt to scan through the dust and rubble. "Frog-Girl, keep an eye out for firearms, especially among civilians. Tongue disarm very effective."
|
|
#
¿
Oct 21, 2017 05:04
|
|
|
Midnight's boots scrape against the edge of the rooftop as she dashes to the edge in a panic. Before she can even ready her grapple, Frog-Girl are catching hapless civilians and hanging them neatly like so much laundry. The tight fist clenched in her chest loosens its grip. Memo to self: Glider cape. Then Frog-Girl's words get through to her. She cracks a wicked smile when Frog-Girl does her thing and pulls the cane from Satin's grip. She retracts her Nightstick into a short rod and holsters it, then hurls herself at Satin. Fight the Good Fight: 7 create an opportunity for your allies With a flick of her wrists she hurls three sharp crescent-shaped shuriken, just to open Satin's defenses, and leaps into them with a flying knee strike. She slips, bobs, and traps punches and counters with sharp body blows. In the midst of a combination she suddenly slides between Satin's legs and pops up with a kick to their back that sends them lurching towards Spectra like a stumbling drunk. "Spectra. Do what you do best." Halloween Jack fucked around with this message at 03:14 on Oct 26, 2017 |
|
#
¿
Oct 25, 2017 02:34
|
|
|
Afraid | Hopeless | Insecure | Guilty | Angry | Location: Rooftops Midnight feels a blow as the gas hits her face. Is that all you've got? Then green comes in around the edges until it fills her field of vision and--her. Panic is a just a sensation she was trained to control. She presses the mental button that operates her adrenal gland, and nothing happens. She can hear herself gasping. She can't feel herself gasping. She must have fallen to her knees. what's wrong what's wrong what's wrong with you The green gas is speaking to her, a voice hidden behind every plume of smoke. A figure comes into focus beyond the fog. Satin? No, Janus, wielding the same rapier that nearly killed her father, once. He's coming for her and she can't do more than paw at the concrete underneath her. She slings a crescent dart, backhand. Sloppy. It vanishes into the smoke. You've failed. You're a failure and now you're going die a failure. Janus' smiling mask doesn't move, but she knows the face beneath is smiling, too. He pirhouettes and turns his back to her, showing the same smiling mask on the back of his head. When he turns back around he is her father. You should have known better. I should have known better. You're not even my daughter. My blood is strong. Stronger than "...this! Pull yourself together!" It isn't her father. It isn't his black mask or his coal-black hair that she never had. It's Frog-Girl's goofy helmet. Bella grabs hold of her and pulls her self up--one foot slips. She can't stop shaking. "S-sorry. Thought you were my dad. Good save." She hobbles toward Satin's current resting place in a heap of bricks, leaning on Frog-Girl for support. Then she fumbles with her Nightstick, extends it to use as a cane. Her heart is still pounding, but her gaze bears down on Satin. "Was that the plan? Throw a stick and see how we fetch it? Prick us to see if we bleed? This wasn't a rampage." Pierce the Mask: 9 what are you really planning? "More like a cry for attention. You are not even interesting. I heard scarier psych profiles in my bedtime stories, you clown. The only question is, why us?"
|
|
#
¿
Nov 7, 2017 05:41
|
|