GranspearZX

There were a number of things going on in Marcus's head as he marched down the path leading to Goodman. He at least dropped Teddy--mostly because his arm was getting tired--and pointed at the hut. "Start walking." Determined not to let him out of sight, let alone out of reach, Marcus nudged him towards Goodman's hut.

He wasn't sure what was going on inside, but he knew there was at least one other person besides Goodman inside. Whether or not she'd seen him was debatable, and he had no idea who to trust... yet. Playing it by ear seemed like the safest bet so far.

That's easy for you to say...

Marcus's brow furrowed a little bit as Elias fumbled with the keys. He wasn't the most stealthy person in the world--moreso now than he was in his bear form at least--but he still favored a direct approach to most things. He also recognized the many problems said approach often caused, and he still wasn't entirely sure what he was getting himself into. He'd already decided that now wasn't the time for hesitation or indecision.

Following Elias inside, he gently pushed the door closed behind him. For once, he found himself wishing he'd advanced enough in his training to use his ursine senses outside of his bear form, and he sincerely doubted he'd catch a whiff of anything magical anywhere in the area. Marcus didn't dare say anything either, certain someone would hear him and all hell would break loose.

For several moments, Marcus didn't say anything. Gears were turning in his head, and he was resisting the urge not to just throw Teddy across the junkyard. Instead, he grabbed Teddy's spanner and tossed it well out of arm's reach. Then he took a handful of Teddy's collar and stood up, hoisting the man off his feet. "We're gonna have a conversation with Goodman. I hope for your sake he's in a talking mood."

Marcus's heart skipped a beat. For a while, he thought he was done with them--after the last time he and Catalyst had encountered the Gauntlet, he was certain they wouldn't try anything else. It was an incredibly naive thing to think, though, and hearing mention of the cult again genuinely gave him a chill. That concern quickly turned to righteous rage.

"Where is Wolfbone?" His tone indicated that not answering wasn't an option.

Marcus caught up to to the man fairly quickly and all but tackled him, bringing them both to the ground. He grabbed the guy's weapon arm and wrenched it behind his back, aiming to keep him pinned down with a knee. 

"...answer the question. What are you idiots digging for?! Or so help me..."

With his free hand, he let the junkyard employee see his right hand spark with electricity from the Storm rune, currents running between his fingertips. 

Gonna take 10 on the attack roll, which leaves the grapple (I'm assuming he's in human form for this): 
Grapple Check: (1d20+16=27)

Followed by some old-fashioned intimidation:
Intimidate: (1d20+7=25)

Initiative: (1d20+5=20)

Grappling and intimidating sound like the best plans (don't wanna hurt the guy... yet...)

Do I need an attack roll for the grapple and an Intimidate roll? 

Being threatened didn't exactly earn the man any congeniality awards. The Beast Rune responded almost immediately, and Marcus could all but sense hostility, deception, and then panic in a matter of moments before he turned to run for the bell.

"Son of a..." Marcus darted forward and his form instantly changed midstride as he reached to grab the man by the collar, hopefully before any real trouble began.

Marcus frowned, almost tuning the guy out entirely. Typically the ground in a junkyard was pretty solid--it was a dumping ground, not a digging ground. "If you're closed, a better question would be 'why are you here? But I guess I can ask your boss that myself..."

He started to turn towards where the woman had gone, glancing back at the man one more time. "...unless you'd like to tell me what you're digging for here."

The lack of activity didn't necessarily bother Marcus, but he knew that it was out of place. Stuffing Dr. Lake's note into his jeans pocket, he watched Revenant for a moment, unsure of who exactly she was. He'd never met her before--for all he knew, she could've been Detective Chase. Either way, he was on his guard, both physically and mentally.

Stealth was pretty much out the window, though he hadn't ruled out the idea of simply disappearing and coming back again. Stepping out of his vehicle, he approached the man with the rolled-up magazine.

"...'ey. You in charge here?"

"You should probably give me your phone number," Marcus mused, taking his phone out of his pocket, "and maybe an address where I can reach you after I find out what's going on... shouldn't take me long."

When Marcus made it to his car, he hopped into the driver's seat, tossing a half-dozen books off the passenger seat into the back. It wasn't the most glamorous thing in the world--it was riddled with rust spots and there was a tiny crack in the windshield--but it was his, and that was what mattered. From there, it was off to the junkyard...

Crusader couldn't hear what was being said. He didn't really need to; once he had slipped inside, he managed to read lips and body language well enough to get a fair estimate of what was going on. His source was right, though... there were enough guns down there to start a small war. He didn't see anything super-dangerous like RPGs, but he estimated that 90% of what was down there was illegal.

He wasn't a fan of guns. It was the type of aversion that grew over time--one that only being shot at multiple times could give a person. Being shot wasn't exactly a pleasant experience, and while he didn't care to repeat it, he refused to give in to the fear or worry of having it happen again. In his experience, there were things far worse than bullets out there. Still, getting these off the streets and out of criminal hands was a priority.

All he had was his shield. He had, of course, considered asking for help in the equipment department. The King of Suits seemed well versed in that sort of weaponry, and he remained one of the few heroes he knew that didn't have any special powers to aid him. It was too late for regret though...

Time to dive right in.

Marcus tried not to look annoyed. He wasn't really sure what the doctor knew, but he'd heard the story of the Beast Rune from a reliable source--the Beast Rune itself. It felt like, in a sense, he'd been having a conversation with himself, and it remained one of the most surreal things he'd ever encountered from his magical birthright.

"There's more to it than just carnage and violence," he said calmly, starting to walk and pausing for a moment to be sure Dr. Lake would follow. "All the rage and anger you probably read about? Probably nothing more than fear. That's where this really started... just a regular guy who was tired of being scared of the dark everything lurking in it. It wasn't his fault people tried to copy and perverse that. Lycanthropy? Just one of many consequences of not getting it... so there's really no telling if the tales you've heard are from the True Rune or just another unfortunate fake."

He cleared his throat, resisting the urge to go on a rant of his own. The history of the Beast Rune was, indeed, quite a subject, and Dr. Lake had been scratching at a rather multi-faceted surface. "But I'll check this junkyard out for you, I guess. Couldn't hurt."

Marcus sighed, masking deeper frustration. He wasn't exactly a stealthy individual. Not that he wasn't capable, but even without the aggressive nature of the Beast Rune, he was much more inclined to direct confrontation. He'd done so much tiptoeing in the last few months that part of him was getting a little restless. He stuffed his free hand into his pocket and nodded.

"Right. But what's in this for you exactly? You don't even know me and you're asking me to spy on someone else... as if my saying yes was some sort of foregone conclusion."

He straightened up a little bit and looked squarely at the Dr. Lake. Marcus wasn't entirely sure how much the doctor knew about the Beast Rune--or him, for that matter. Just how much did the good doctor go through to actually locate him? For all he knew, he was walking into a trap. Not that he wasn't going to go to this junkyard, of course. If he and the Beast Rune had anything in common, it was that neither liked to be caged or controlled.

"To be fair, I probably don't understand it any better than you do," Marcus admitted with a nonchalant shrug, "But I still don't get what this Detective Chase person is after. If she's after the Beast Rune, why not come to me directly?"

Marcus paused for a second; it was possible that this detective didn't have the information that the doctor had. Still, he didn't like that her info led her to someone he didn't know, which meant he was missing something. 

He also couldn't help but feel like the doctor was probing him for information about the Beast Rune himself, likely for research purposes. It wasn't a huge secret or anything, but he'd been far more careful about who he discussed magical subjects with ever since he'd first encountered the Cult of the Beast down in Freedom City's sewers.

"I'm gonna need a lot more detail than suspicion. No offense."

GM

"Not immediately," Trigger mused for a moment as Anton handed over the list. "I know some of these streets though. Some of them are abandoned properties, some are new developments like that apartment building in the Fens. I don't think they have basements like the last one though... I'd know. Unless someone else can install biometric fingerprint locks."

"Show-off," Smokey commented, coming up from behind Trigger. He wasn't drunk, but it was pretty clear he'd had a few from the faint scent of alcohol on him. He looked over Trigger's shoulder at the list. "Hey, that one's way in Port Royal. Abandoned subway station or somethin'. Lots of homeless guys hang out there 'cause the city kinda gave up on the place...:

The mention of Adrian Eldritch was all Marcus needed. It meant two things: that the good doctor knew more or less who he was and what he could do, and he should probably be taken seriously. The cover of Marcus's sketchbook clamped shut. This sounded like it was going to be one of those 'things that bump in the night' cases, and now he was wondering if the Master Mage was deliberately steering him towards those. Not that he minded... a little heads up would have been nice.

"Alright," he said, standing up and stretching a little. "You got my attention. But... why me?"

It was true that Marcus was no stranger to the supernatural and the occult. He figured it best to probe just what the doctor knew about him before committing to anything, if for no other reason than to keep his expectations realistic...

Tagging!

Marcus was on a new sketchbook. By now he'd finished his portfolio and had submitted it to a number of schools, but that didn't stop him from drawing. It was a nice break from everything else that had gone on in the past few months, and there was something to be said for the quiet moments when they were as elusive as this. 

He didn't notice the older gentleman approaching him. Rather, he didn't pay him any immediate mind. It wasn't as if he was a physical threat, after all. His pencil stopped mid-stroke, however, at his name being spoken. Marcus looked up, didn't recognize the voice or the man to whom it belonged, and a skeptical eyebrow rose.

"I'm sorry.. do I know you?"

There was a certain amount of defensiveness to his tone, but to his credit, Marcus was trying not to be rude. He wasn't even sure how this person knew him--somehow that seemed incredibly important.

GM

"Hey, it's no problem. It's pretty well established that I'm something of a neutral party around here. Probably because she thinks I can't really do anything. I suppose in the most direct of circumstances, she's not entirely wrong..."

He reached for one of the napkins on the table. Setting it in front of him, grabbed a pen out of his shirt pocket and began writing. As he was finishing, Trigger walked over to the table.

"It seems Smokey's social skills aren't entirely a wash. Our mutual friend is rumored off to see Knives--or Taraxus. From a distance, I'd imagine. Apparently this Taraxus isn't powerful enough to go out during the day without being burned by the sun, but his strength will start returning after sundown. Now I see why she whisked him away when she did..."

GM

"That sounds about like her clientele." Anton motioned over to a nearby table, offering Supercape a seat. "She seems to seek out the most despairing souls she can find and offer them a choice. Of course, they never see it as a real choice, giving in to their fears, and... well, the results vary. Some realize the curse they called down upon themselves. Others... aren't quite so quick on the uptake. I can relate."

Anton paused in thought, clearly lost in them for the briefest of moments. "At any rate, she's been in Freedom City for a fair amount of time. Long enough to shore up her defenses in a surprisingly mortal fashion. An army of lawyers. Probably has an officer or three in her pocket. None of her resources, mind you, but it comes with the job of professional sowing of chaos among humanity. To what end, I'm not sure. I could, of course, get you a list of the properties leased in her name; that would at least be a start. As far as business partners... hard to say. Pretty sure I don't count."

"....mmm." Marcus merely grunted at the comments Elias made. He didn't find fault with anything he said, really, but he wasn't sure how to immediately respond. He was quickly starting to realize that Elias had a better grip on reality than most people he'd ever met, social shortcomings notwithstanding. Then again, who didn't have those?

And where exactly is.... here?

Marcus looked up at the building. It was hardly inviting, and he didn't exactly see him or Elias sneaking inside. That really wasn't the point of their trip, and he REALLY hoped that wouldn't be necessary. Instead, he looked across the street to find a decent vantage point from which to view the building's front, should their quarry decide to show his face.

"Gonna guess that direct confrontation is an outright bad idea," he mused, mostly to himself.

Arcturus

Crusader

GM/NPC

to Arcturus)

May 12, 2013

10:45 pm

Having an informant was a wonderful thing in the Fens. It made all the legwork of crime fighting a lot more bearable, even when the information came at an unexpected time. He could barely remember where he'd met the young man who had referred to himself as 'the Skeptiq'--spelling and all. He wasn't sure how he kept finding him on his patrols around the Fens, but the kid had eyes and ears everywhere, and he'd taken a particular liking to dropping clues into Clark's lap. While Clark hardly trusted the little weasel, he couldn't really complain. 

Yet.

Today's tip: a warehouse recently bought by a local 'business' was housing a ton of illegal weaponry, and there was a huge gun buy scheduled to go down that night. Alerting the authorities wouldn't do much; constrained by legal process, Crusader could see the problem--one that he didn't share.

He watched from a nearby rooftop as a white car pulled into the warehouse; as the sliding metal door went up and down to let it in, he spotted at least four men with guns, all wearing the black leather vests with the Motor City Mauler motorcycle club patches on the back.

Well. Time to clock in.