Hellbound

He shrugged and dropped the weapon to the floor of the front seat. If it had, then any evidence of the crime was likely long-since ruined. There was always the chance that it was a licensed firearm anyway. Whoever drove the car wasn't exactly poor, or at least he presumed so. It looked like it'd been in fine condition and not one of the cheaper models before going for a swim. Carrying protection in Freedom City wasn't just a common thing, it was a smart thing. Superheroes couldn't be everywhere, but it seemed that some days crime certainly was. The gun made its drifting way towards the floor and struck with a solid clunk, causing part of the rusted panel to give way and fell through. Somewhere below, in the gloomy shadows beneath the car, it'd come to rest in the riverbed and resumed its hidden existence. Pushing at the driver's side door, Hellbound tried to exit the vehicle. This time, however, the decaying hinges didn't survive and the door fell off of them with an eerie creek. Sound was still distorted and somewhat echoing, and a larger cloud of silt was kicked up with the hunk of metal came to rest. That was gonna hurt the resale value, Hellbound considered.

Hellbound considered the business. It was relatively small but it seemed to be doing a brisk business. It was old and yet well kept, as if the owners took pride in their place and were making enough money for upkeep. It didn't seem to be the type that would easily relocate, as they probably had a good lease price locked in years ago. They were too small to have much pull with the police, or at least that's what Hellbound assumed, That did actually sound like they were a good target for a protection racket. Just like with Morley's, it'd be cheaper for them to simply pay off the mob rather than deal with the consequences. "Yeah, looks perfect." Hellbound agreed. "But remember, protection rackets are just a scam. The mob's not really selling them any kind of insurance. They're just forcing bribes out of the owners in exchange for not driving them out of business." Hellbound started walking towards the business, a plan forming in his head. "This would be easier if they actually knew how to get in touch with the mutants, but criminals don't really leave phone numbers laying around where their victims can reach them after hours. "Let me do the talking. I'm the scruffy one, so I should play the role of underling. You're the professional looking one, so just stand around looking pretty for now. If they refuse to pay up, then you get to break stuff until they do." That was the part of the plan which made him wince. Hellbound hated to do that to someone who was just trying to run their business and keep their lives fiscally well-off. Doing any sort of damage wasn't exactly helping them out, but if what they were trying would work then it'd all be worth it in the end. Hopefully Hellbound would be able to put in for reimbursement through the Knights, otherwise he was about to have his salary docked for the next several decades.

The Hellbroad had seen it all before. Though Doc's house might be impressive, this wasn't her first encounter with its dimensional games. Granted, if she had a clue as to the science required behind such feats then she might be more impressed, but as it were the heroine really only wanted to get out of the leather-wedgie that someone decided would be part of her new costume. It'd been just after she had her own official look picked out, at that. This was really her first time out in the leathers, ones she hadn't picked up at the thrift store specifically, and now she didn't even get to show them off. Well... technically she was showing them off, but that's not what she'd meant to be showing off. They weren't really even hers to show off, but someone had decided to give them to her anyway and now people could see her showing them off from several blocks away. And by that point she wasn't referring to the costume. As Archville handed over the urine cup, Hellbroad wondered how she was supposed to aim. Granted, getting a sample of her blood to not burn up before it could be analyzed was going to be a good trick in itself, but at least she wasn't the one who had to worry about it. By the time she was finished in the bathroom, the cup was a warm and wet mess. Though Hellbroad did at least assure Victoria that it'd been washed off afterwards. "Just figure this all out before someone has to invent asbestos tampons, okay?"

Dun-dun-dunnnnn..... :?

Since I'm not certain how to handle reactions from common citizens upon the Captain's appearance, I'll let you get us to the West Side. From there I'll see what I can come up with as far as a Mafia-attracting confrontation :)

In truth, Hellbound didn't care if the Captain hated mutants or not. Everyone had their prejudices, even heroes. Just so long as this guy didn't cross the line and start gunning people down indiscriminately, he was okay in Hellbound's book. "Usually I take taxis." Hellbound had to admit, though he wasn't proud of the fact. He could always try to restart his old career of stealing cars, but... no, those days were behind him. Hellbound wasn't really in the mood to violate his parole or put another dent into his reputation. It looked like they were going to have to walk. The sudden, dazzling display of teeth had Hellbound blinking for a couple of seconds before continuing. Now there was a sign of heroism. What kind of villain had teeth that clean? "But I doubt we're getting one out here this time of night. Just remember, though, don't haul ass too fast. I [am] a smoker after all." With that, the slightly toasty hero started heading back towards town with Captain Knievel at his side, completely unaware of the reputation that backed the otherwise heroic appearing man.

Holy crap..., thinks Hellbound. That's actually a damn good plan. "I wanna make some suggestions, though." He considered. "Don't just start a random fight. Go in there like you are the competition, not just some random loon looking for trouble. They already know that I've put a dent into their employee base, so it wouldn't be that much of a stretch to say that I'm doing it for a rival gang. "But if you come in, playing the role of my Don, and we start shaking down high profile targets, then it might just draw them out. Then, like you said, we grab 'em and shake the crap out of 'em until they tell us what we need to know." It was sort of undercover work, he considered. Though it might look bad for a while, he was fairly certain he could explain to both the press and his fellow Knights just so long as they managed good results and nobody was hurt. That, of course, was the tricky part. Attempting to play the bad guys without actually causing damage wasn't going to be easy. They'd have to select their targets carefully and do a damn good job of acting the part of the villain. "The big bastard I fought seemed like he ran the west side. That might not be a bad place to start."

Hellbound reached in and pulled the gun from the glove box. A wash of rust and decay accompanied the action, but at least no more fish had been disturbed. All of the life that'd taken up residence in the glove box had fled when he first opened the compartment. The gun felt strange in his hand. He was a 'fists, feet and teeth' sort of fighter. If it could be hit with elbows, knees, heads or any other body part, then it wasn't worth hitting. Guns and most any sort of weapon always felt like an act of desperation for him, even though he knew that in the heat of a really good fight he'd resort to almost any tactic. But even with that, guns were just alien to his personality. That didn't mean he had no understanding of them, however, or was at a loss as to what their presence represented. Most people didn't cruise around in nice cars with guns in the glove box. He started to wonder if someone had been trying to ditch some evidence, here. Though he wasn't familiar with such weapons, he had at least seen enough movies that he knew how to release the clip and even check to see if a round had been chambered. It turned out to be fully loaded and hadn't been prepared to fire. So, Hellbound hoped, that meant it hadn't been used to kill anyone before being dumped.

'Sounds to me like he started in the late '80s, then, which gives me a good ten years on the young man. Unfortunately, that seems to be placing me into a cantankerous and crotchety stage that's not really helping at this point...

Hellbound continued to just sit and ponder the wonder of it all, being a little more introspective than he normally might act. It was easier down here, though. It was so private and excluded that he didn't have to worry about anyone coming across his less-than-badass behavior. Always having to play the tough guy, never letting his guard down was more work than most people realized. But now? Who could see him mellow out but the fishes and rusty cars? Certainly none of his Hellions would put up with him showing any kind of soft side. He could just imagine what it'd do for his reputation. He reached down to play with the radio knob but found it to be as rusted and useless as the rest of the car. Of course, he hadn't actually expected it to work, but where was the harm in trying? Weirder things have happened in this city than a car's stereo system working underwater. Following that, he leaned over to open the glove box and was rewarded with more tiny fish and a floating mass of rotted paper. Most like that was the title, registration and maybe proof of insurance. The normal sort of thing one would find in such a place. However, what Hellbound hadn't expected to see was the pistol resting quietly behind this sodden mess.

Really? Of that, I was not aware. But then I've never been much of an X-Fan, so I don't keep up on all of this nonsense. It does, however, explain how he was able to beat Lobo. Well... wait... no, no it doesn't. Not completely, but it helps.

Hellbound glanced around the building, taking in its ruined condition, and then rose from his seat. "Sure. Can't see how we can do any more damage here tonight. Don't underestimate these guys, though. They don't seem the type to blow things up without reason. They might be mutants, but they're gangsters first. At least that's what I've gotten, so far. "Seems like there's a couple of guys in chrage. I thought I'd taken down the leader, but I guess he was just a lieutenant. If they're anything like The Godfather then I'd guess the troll-looking-muther-f'er was answering to some kinda Don." Hellbound paused in his tracks to shoot Knievel a serious look. "Now that dude's freaky. Like some sort of son-of-satan mojoman. Never got his name though, but if he really is a Don and answers to a Cappo? Then we may be looking at one heck of a major mess. Who knows how long they've been building up an organization, you know?" He flicked some of the ash from his cigar as they made their way out of the building and to the streets outside. Fortunately, there was only one real way to get here and that was a gravel road just a mile or so off of the main highway. If they were lucky then there actually would be some fresh tracks to follow. "But we don't really gotta do that tonight. All I'm intersted in is the guy who took away my fun for the night."

Hellbound's brain is not a toy :P

Hellbound tapped at the insistent 'bot with a finger and assertion that the didn't 'swing that way'. Once the digital assistant had been backed off, though, Hellbound stripped the shirt off without any sense of modesty. Beneath the clothes he had a clean and chiseled physique. There were muscles plainly evident, yes, but nothing of the bulky, steroid-driven masses of might that one would normally expect. Certainly nothing gave any indication of his true weight, not even the way he moved. Hellbound might be strong and massive, but he was at the same time his raw agility bordered on the superhuman. "Hey, just think of how much faster I'd have moved if you used real bullets."

Yeah, the books say that, but has anyone actually done that yet? Not that I've seen, but I haven't scruitinzed every char on the site just yet.

Well, I'm not sure what you mean by overpowered there, but what he's getting at are different ways of 'powerbuilding' (or nerfing, if you're strange, though I preferred the term 'taking advantage of loopholes in the rules'). The powers of 'Running' and 'Flight' had the same cost base, but where the ability to run on walls was considered an advantage for Running, being forced to remain in contact with a surface was considered a limitation for Flight. So while both builds provided the same effect and the same velocity, one was cheaper as it made use of a limitation while the other was saddled with an advantage. And, yeah, I got into exploiting the rules a fair amount myself... though it would seem that M&M has far more loopholes and ways to take advantage of the numbers. If you do go back and read the old rules, make sure you stay with the first three editions. Once it was officially made part of the Hero system, it just wasn't quite the same game. But there was a degree of simplicity in that it only had 'advantages' and 'limitations'. Arguments might come up in how much a given limitation (outside of the pre-listed versions), would be worth, but in M&M you not only have to figure out how much a flaw is worth, but whether or not it should be actually be a drawback, instead. The line between those two does not seem to be set in stone. To make matters even worse, what may be a flaw for one power could only be a drawback for another depending on how the GM interprets the universe. And I see where the M&M flexibility truly reflects the nature of the four-color pseudo-reality. Just lately I've been re-reading some old Ghost Rider reprints -- and in particular the scene where Witch Woman teaches him how to create his bike out of flame seems like a Hero Point expenditure to me. So I'm getting used to it... sort of. Though I've yet gotten feedback from a Ref on Tony B., at least I'm trying. G.D. Badman should be coming up later this week as well. By the way... has anyone yet come up with a flaw worth more than 1 point? Though I haven't made an exhaustive search of the Freedom City population, there does seem to be an immediate assumption that 1 point is all you get.

Hellbound liked this guy's attitude. He didn't seem the type to sit around when crimes were being committed and doing nothing. Maybe he'd be a good candidate for the Knights of Freedom. "I was on the card tonight." Hellbound admitted. "Defending my title, but I don't think that's happening tonight. Bigger things to worry about, anyway." He shook his shaggy hair, dislodging a few embers and some soot that'd been building as the structure burned down around them. Some ashes from his cigar added to the debris. "Kicking this guy's ass might be trickier then you think, though." He warned. "If it's the dude I'm thinking about, he's got these freaky ghost-type powers. I got lucky and caught his hand when he pulled a gun on me, otherwise I couldn't touch the bastard. "He runs with some gang called the Mutant Mafia. Never heard of 'em myself, but me and a friend beat the crap out of four of his crew last night. Hopefully they're still locked up, but I have no idea how long the cops'll be able to keep them. Guys like that always have good lawyers." He rubbed his neck, ignoring the heat and smoke of the fire and cast his gaze around. Hellbound needed a detective at this point, or at least someone who knew the underworld. That sounded like Avenger, but he still wasn't sure he wanted to bring the other Knights in just yet. In the end, he may not have a choice, but for now it was his war to fight. Well, his and Captain Knievel's. "So we got a guy who can walk through walls and has a lot of friends. All of which have mutant powers and most of which probably have guns. How do we track that down?"

Hellbound finished opening the trunk lid to see what was inside. From what he knew about mob movies, he supposed there was a good chance that a dead body was still inside. Maybe it was wrapped in tarp or garbage bags, but he suspected this might have been a way to dispose of someone who'd displeased the criminal element in some way. However, he was disappointed in finding only a rotting spare tire and rusting jack. After forcing the trunk lid until one of its rusted hinges broke off, he could tell there wasn't anything special back here. Moving around to the side, still walking as if in slow motion thanks to the water, and kicking up dirty clouds of silt as he went, Hellbound moved to the driver's side door and peered inside. If he'd been expecting to find anything heinous in there, as well, he was once more greeted with only shredded upholstery and exposed, rusting framework. The car was apparently, somehow, abandoned in the middle of the river. Perhaps that wasn't really so strange given the town in question. This could have very easily been a makeshift missile that some cape had tossed to land here. Given the number of powers running around today, there could be a hundred explanations for its presence. Not really worried about it, anyway, Hellbound forced the driver's side door off of its hinges and did his best to slide inside. Between his natural mass and the resistance of the water, it was a little more clumsy than what would be normal. In time, though, he managed to sit behind the steering wheel. Peering out through the windshield into the murky waters of the river, Hellbound had to wonder just how strange this all was. Coming to him from every side was warped and distorted sounds, carried by the water from far away, and everything just seemed so peaceful. He wondered how hard it would be to build a secret lair down here?

"Oh, yeah..." Hellbound looked up at the billboard, realizing that's where he'd seen the guy before. He thought it strange that one would be built this far out in the sticks, but truckers read ads just as well. Personally, Hellbound himself paid little attention to advertising. Seeing as how he rarely had any money, he rarely had the chance to buy much of anything. So what was the point of paying attention to things he couldn't buy anyway? As for the question about the coat.... "Well, " Hellbound puffed on his own cigar. "It's not like I have eyes in the back of my head, do I? And you're in the business." He gestured vaguely at the Captain's costume. "Leather doesn't actually burn hot enough to hurt. Felt a little warm, yeah, but we are standing in the middle of a burning building. Or at least what's left of one. Kind'a hard to notice the difference. "But now that you're here..." Hellbound looked for a place to sit that wouldn't ignite his clothing any further. They had some thinking to do for a moment. "What are we gonna do about the mutant prick that set the place on fire in the first place?"

Sorry about the sudden double-posting. 'Completely forgot about his lucky matchbox, though. Couldn't let that get away.

Before the Captain could answer, however, Hellbound was smacking himself in the forehead with an utterance of 'Holy crap!' He then rushed over to where the burning jacket had been discarded and started searching through it. Located within the inside breast pocket, apparently, was a silver matchbox. When Hellbound retrieved this device he was happy to see that it was unburned. In fact, the matches inside hadn't even yet gotten hot enough to ignite. The cigars in the same pocket, on the other hand, didn't fare so well. Most were a smoldering ruin, but two were still salvageable even if they were already burning. Puffing on the ends of both to extinguish the premature lighting, he then placed one into his mouth and offered the second to Knievel with a shrug. After all, it'd already been lit. No point in letting it go to waste.

The farther Hellbound walked into the murky depths, the more magical things seemed to become. Granted, the urban waters had little diversity when it came to marine life, but there were fish and other creatures to observe. It made him wonder what a marine biologist would give for an experience like this. Pausing at a spot where a steady stream of bubbles drifted up from the silt, Hellbound bent to dig his hand downward. He was rewarded with a fist full of soft, slimy mud and the release of a larger bubble of air. Somewhere beneath all of this action, a pale and spiny thing dug its way deeper into the river bottom, seeking a sudden and desperate escape. Hellbound shook the silt free of his hand. Even that act was somewhat amazing as the water surrounding him washed his limb free of the gray mess. That didn't happen with actual air, and at the moment it was difficult remembering that he was truly surrounded by fluid. Further along his casual walk, he came across a darkened hulk resting in the channel. Light was becoming dim this far underwater, and in fact he had to squint his eyes upward just to get a glimpse of the river's surface, but there was something large and solid ahead. Hellbound moved that way to investigate. He had to come almost directly upon it before realizing what the mass was. All angular and artificial, it stood out starkly from the waving and softly organic features he'd been encountering so far. It was a car, he noticed. Someone had apparently dumped a vehicle into the river, or else it'd been driven carelessly to a disastrous end. As he stepped in spooky, slow motion to the rear of the vehicle he noticed it was an Audi. The trunk had come free long ago with rust and decay, giving home to a family of some species of fish. He really couldn't say what kind other than they didn't look like he sort he'd want to eat.

Hellbound shook the can, sounding out just how much fluid was left inside. There wasn't much, just enough to generate a small jet of flame from the spout. Soon it'd run itself dry. "Nah, it's almost empty." He informed the newcomer. "And don't worry. These things never explode if they're allowed to vent like this. 'Worst you'll get is burning gas shooting all over the place." He discarded the can with that, not really caring where it landed. The entire building was already a loss. By the time G.D. had called him, the blaze was well beyond the point of controlling. Having to take a cab all the way out to the sticks had only made things worse. Really, as long as long as the bystanders kept their distance then there wasn't much more damage the can could do. His jacket, on the other hand, provoked a stronger reaction. "What?" Hellbound asked, not realizing that the garment was ablaze as well. "Dammit, that was my best jacket." He stripped the leather off and, after a quick examination, decided it wasn't worth saving either. He'd worn it to impress Blackavar, but it looked like that was the last time he'd wear it anyplace. "Name's Hellbound." He informed the Captain, now turning a scrutinizing eye in his direction. The guy was wearing a costume, talking about investigations and had shown up just after it was too late to save the building. Clearly the man must be some kind of superhero, even in spite of the comment about watching things burn. Heck, there was a bit of a pyromaniac inside of Hellbound himself. Quite literally, given the unique qualities of his blood. "You look familiar..." He said. "Do I know you?"

So weird..., Hellbound tried to say as he treaded water. Apparently, though, the ability to breath underwater didn't necessarily translate into the ability to speak in the same conditions. All that came out was a gargled stream of bubbly nonsense. This wasn't so bad, and not nearly as uncomfortable as he'd have expected. A part of him was happy that the Doc wasn't as nutty as he appeared, while another felt fully vindicated in the trust placed in that oddball brain. Regardless, Hellbound planned to have a little fun with his newfound ability and let his own prodigious density drag himself straight to the river bottom. It was muddy down there, proving to be an unstable floor of tangled weeds and discarded debris. Apparently the citizens of Freedom City didn't get down here very often to clean things up. That didn't really bother him, of course, being one of the repeat offenders when it came to discarding things into the river. Hellbound began walking again, only now taking the time to wave his arms about in the fluid environment and just feeling the nearly hypnotic sensation of wandering around underwater.

Naturally enough, spending his 'starting' hero point on Extra Effort to AP an Immunity to Drowining off of his Enhanced Con... plus Immmunity to whatever toxins or bateria might be floating around in the river. Yuck.