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Czanarchy

Lincoln, Freedom City, New Jersey

12:24 AM Saturday November 8th, 2014

 

The little roadhouse sitting between 24th and 28th street, doesn't seem to gather fresh customers all too often.  Their brilliant neon alcohol advertising signs shine brightly through the cover of darkness and the live music just sets a certain ambiance that lets everyone know that it was a hot destination.  The problem?  The unrelenting reflective glow of the choppers lined up directly in front of the establishment, and the even more unrelenting looks of the machines' roughneck looking owners.

 

Czarnachy was not just a fine dining establishment.  It was an outlaw biker bar.  Known for its fair share of altercations.  One simply didn't enter Czanarchy without expecting a little bit of trouble.  It was human nature to avoid altercations that would lead to obvious escalation of force. Especially as the men and women who frequented the establishment had no reservations about doing just that.  Allegedly

 

However, on this night something peculiar occurred. According to eyewitness accounts, a group of five women clad in leather arrived on the scene.  Armed with chains and knives, this female biker gang taunted the local patrons until a bar wide brawl began.  The leader of the the female gang stabbed a portly looking man in the throat.  In her wake the only thing left behind of the man was a pile of ash.  

 

In the commotion the bar was set on fire and is still very much in such a state according to the various means the information is spreading (The news, police scanners, etc.)

Edited by HG Morrison
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Axel had phoned her up. Word was spreading fast around the various biker outfits. Who was it? The Gaschuggers? The Blacksmokers? Nobody knew. Some new girl gang? 

 

"Fire me up!" commanded Carmen Canto to the scurrilous demon in her belly, who obeyed with a spit. Her body was wrapped in smoke and licks of flame. Her eyes glowed, and her mouth roared red, hinting at the inferno inside her. Her clothes burned into studded leather and scorched metal. 

 

She didn't even need her bike. It was fire, and there was surely some metal in the bar. From a doorhandle to a beer tap, something was in the fire, and something was hot. And any hot metal was connected to the dimension of fire and steel, of endless smoke and molten iron, of chains and grinding cogs. The Infernal Forge. 

 

And through it, she dove, straight into the heart of Czarnachy 

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Blodeuwedd  landed on a building opposite the Czarnachy she’d not heard the initial reports but the lights from the fire had attracted her attention. She quickly found out the basic from the crowd gathered around the burning building, but there always more that could be learned.


Invisible to all and moving almost completely quietly she made her way to the front of the crowd were the police were doing their best to contain the situation. Finding the most important looking copper she could find she appeared just behind them.

 

“What can you tell me about the situation detective?â€

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Diane had been taking a stroll in the town. It might not have been the best of ideas considering her new looks and the fact Cyberskull was still looking for her, but she just couldn't bear spending more time in the AEGIS HQ, so she had thrown a long coat on herself, put on heavy makeup to conceal her circuitry and had gone out.

 

The fire called to her curiosity like a moth to the flame. When she saw what was going on, she decided it was time for her to step in; she raised in the air and closed in to the police line.

 

"Hello. My name is Nano Angel, what's going on? It looks like you could use a hand."

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"Murderous biker babes with crazy fire powers just trashed Czanarchy.  Some crappy dive bar.  Eye witnesses rate them anywhere from eights to tens.  I'm texting you the address; place is still on fire.  Great intro for an episode.  Take the motorcycle; it makes for a more dynamic entry and fits the biker theme."

 

Click.

 

Well.  Good old Pam.  Her point of contact with Super-Vision.  Always keeping her informed on the most attention-grabbing crime tips.

 

She tosses on a leather jacket and a helmet on her way down from her penthouse to the garage, jumping on the motorcycle she learned to ride for better intro shots.

 

Plus, it gets through traffic a lot better in an emergency.  As long as you're willing to call on the vigilante clause to avoid a few points on your license.

 

Once she's out of the city proper, it's time to call out the hoverrig.  Show time.

 

While others she doesn't recognize offhand chat with the cops, Wayward jumps off her bike and rushes past.  "Cape on scene!" she shouts by way of explanation as she charges in, staff at the ready as a pry bar as she enters the burning building to look for any lost wounded.

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GM

 

Pitch found herself inside of Czanarchy as intended.  Exiting out from the beer taps she found herself standing over the barkeep whom was decidedly out of it.  Immediately noticing three unconscious bikers left behind, though not writing off the possibility for more.  It wasn't easy to tell if they were unconscious due to the fumes or the beatings they had received.  The first thing Wayward saw was the forge walker enter after bursting inside simultaneously.

 

Outside Blodeuwedd and Nano Angel were left with the policemen on the scene.  It was mostly patrol officers.  With the exception of the detective whom the pair had managed to take aside.  Detective Valerie Archer was a standby on the Major Crimes task force.  Her presence likely meant there was some sort of ongoing operation with the biker gangs that frequented the area.  It also meant their operation had likely hit a wall now as the bar began to burn up in flames.  

 

"Five women came in and started heckling the bikers.  Things turned sour.  They allegedly screeched and blew out some ear drums.  And someone got stabbed.  He glowed, and then burned up from the inside out.  Apparently he somehow set something alight.  And the enraged goons here didn't notice the fire starting and well...here we are.  Or that's what they're willing to say on it."  The bikers still nearby were making it hard to hear detective Archer as they yelled obscenities.  Clearly offended at the implication they had any fault.

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Pitch straightened up, leaning on her cane, her body ablaze. The heat and smoke bothered her not at all. She stood in the middle of the fire and breathed in the fumes as if she was bathing in them. 

 

The sight of Wayward bursting in distracted her. A rock star and a heroine, wrapped up in one neat package. 

 

"Welcome to hell, honey" she said, bowing and grinning, a furious flame behind her teeth. 

 

"I'm just going to try and dampen this little candleflame down..." she explained, focussing her attention on the fires. It was a little more tricky to quench flame than to move it. Her power was fuelled by anger, something she had no shortage of, but when it came to the diminishing of fire, that took a more subtle and complex balance of emotions. 

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"Been a while, babe," the star almost shouts, the noise muffled by her helmet and drowned out by the roar of the fire.

 

A bunch of pyromaniac bikers go bonkers, then Pitch shows up?  Interesting.  Wayward isn't suspicious, per se, but still.  Similar descriptions.  Maybe a couple questions are in order?  Old friends, maybe?  At the very least, Pitch probably knows more in the weird juju department.

 

But this is no time to worry about that.

 

"Good luck, but forgive me if I hedge these guys' bets."

 

She looks above, scanning for any burning beams liable to fall down on someone and pulls those at risk clear before going to the worst-off looking sap and hoisting him into a fireman's carry and hauling him out, shouting to the cops and the other capes as she walks clear.

 

"Three more out cold inside," she reports, already on her way as she drops off the first.

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Diane noticed the  other woman talking with the police, and greeted her with a nod.

 

"Just like that? They burn down a person just by stabbing them? Definitely... odd."

 

Diane tried to remember if her friend Nat ever said anything about people like this. She had an... unfortunate... amount of experience with tech-wielding supervillains, but she'd never had to deal with the occult. Actually, she half expected most of it to be just crazy mumbo-jumbo.

 

"I'd go in, if you don't mind. If you need some reassurance about my allegiance, AEGIS can confirm I'm one of the good guys."

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The flames sucked away, as Pitch passed her gaze over the embers and fires. It required more...balance...than she was used too. But they diminished all the same. 

 

The last sprite of fire jumped to her finger, and was quenched as she closed her hand over it. 

 

Satisfied, she strode out of the building, cane in hand. She might move slowly, but with smoke and fire and leather surrounding her, she made an impressive exit (or entrance). 

 

"You are looking as hot as ever, Wayward" smiled Pitch at the rock star, with her mouth glowing behind her teeth thanks to Tazel bubbling away inside her. 

 

"This is a rough joint, but I never seen it burn up like this. What gives?" she asked all and sundry. 

 

"

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“Thank you for you help officer, we’ll help you in any way we can.†the FCPD were probably the most friendliest of forces towards super, and it wouldn’t hurt to help keep it that way.

 

“The names Blodeuwedd a pleasure to meet you Nano, feel free to help with the fire there something I’ve got to do anyway.†she nodded to the detective “You might want to look away for a few moments detective.â€

 

The odd shouldn’t have been in Blodeuwedd favor the bikers out numbered her and there we’re full of machismo and bravado. But she’d could read body language and there were little sign here and there that she could use to her advantage, besides she was also really good and intimidating people. She looked straight into the eyes, though all he could see was the glow of her green goggles in the darkness.

“Now you are going to tell me everything you neglected to tell the Detective. Or there will be trouble!â€

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GM

 

Pitch had managed to successfully quell the flames.  But, the damage had been done.  The inside was a charred mess by the time Wayward had finished successfully fireman carrying the last remaining occupant.  The first responders arrived on the scene shortly after and the men were rapidly treated for their smoke inhalation. 

 

Wayward heard a bloodcurdling scream inside her mind.  To say nothing of the mental echo that occurred once Nano Angel got too close and caught the tail end of the psionic backlash.  There was a pull, however.  Finding her way to ashes of the deceased, the rock star exhaled (as if following a set of instructions).  The ashes rearranged themselves into the shape of a pair of yes.  And then, just as quickly as the scream had come it was gone. 

 

Detective Archer had been on the job long enough to know when it was a good time to go back to her vehicle and start up some paperwork.  Taking this moment to give Blodeuwedd some free time.  The bikers shuffled around at Blodeuwedd's fearsome display.  They looked at one another until a bald man with a skull tattoo over his left eye dry swallowed and started speaking.  "Joey, the guy they offed.  He's been acting odd as of late.  More aggressive, trying to take new territory.  Things have been real edgy.  Wouldn't be surprised if someone hired 'em to come in here and cause trouble.  Just to shut the poor guy down."

 

"One of 'em screamed and it blew out Kendra's eardrums, what kinda for hires you think do that?"  A woman jeered in response to the statement.

 

"One of the women, real mess this broad, she said something about a pub crawl.  To find the next escapee?"

 

"Whatever the hell a pub is." another called out.  "Anyways, Joey hasn't 'escaped' from anywhere.  They're nuts!"

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"High praise," Wayward declares as she takes off her helmet and shakes free her dark hair, donning her signature devious smirk.  "Coming from a gal on fire."  She gives Pitch a wink as she returns to hauling victims.

 

It takes some willpower not to laugh at that, 'or there will be trouble,' line, but it seems to be getting the kid some mileage, so who's to judge?

 

But then, something inside calls to her.  A sense, like someone's there, but she's sure she got everyone.  As she follows the call, she finds herself before the pile of ashes that were once a man.  Pain.  Fear.  Fire.  Screaming.

 

She finds herself getting lost in the surge of sensation, but she stops herself.  And then, the eyes appear.  No time to back down.  This... thing has information, and she's going to get it!

 

Her green eyes lock with this... thing.  The surge grows stronger, but she stands fast, willing the creature to reveal its secrets to her, pressing her powers harder than she ever has before.  She calls it closer... closer... "What... are... you?"

 

But the distraction is too much.  As the vision, the creature touches her, it sucks her in, as if she tapped into someone else's senses, but this time, there's no escape.  She feels the knife, and then... the burning.  Consuming everything.

 

Her scream cuts through the night.

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Pitch straightened in pain, her eyes almost rolling to the back of her head. A lance of pure agony rained down her leg, the nerve damage inflaming beyond any thing she had known. 

 

How? What? FIre....

 

She tried to stay upright, gripping the evil Cantos Cane with fingers that went white from the torture, but staggered, then fell, tears of fire falling from her eyes. Even Tazel felt the anguish, roaring inside her. 

 

Then it went, leaving her rolling on the floor fighting to stay conscious. 

 

"What was that...those eyes...they knew how to hurt me...me...knew how to hit me bullseyes were it would hurt me most..."

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  • 1 month later...

So apparently these women were ending some sort of turf war, in a rather deadly manner, Freedom City being what it was powered gangster weren’t even that uncommon. Though it still didn’t make what they did right in any way.

 

“So apparently they have some sort of list they’re working through. I’m sure that if you knew where they’d go next you’d tell me, right!†it was framed more as a statement than a question

 

“After all you wouldn’t want me to come back to settle thing now, would you?†she gave a rather wicked smile.

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