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West End Warriors [IC]


Gizmo

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September 22, 2009 - 11:17 pm

It had taken more than a week of detective work, interrogating some of the West End's usual suspects, surreptitiously following others as they went about their shady dealings, but Jack of all Blades had finally found another group of thugs with ties to Captain Knievel's growing 'workforce'. Perched in the shadows of a rooftop, the swashbuckler's eyes narrowed as he recalled the thrashing he'd received at the Captain's hands, or rather his adrenaline cannon. Jack doubted he was prepared for a rematch so soon, but he couldn't afford to let Knievel solidify his hold on the West End any more than he already had. The sharp whine of power tools and the light of sparks coming from the supposedly abandoned garage the hero watched suggested a chop-shop; if he could put an end to this operation, its participants might be able to point him in the direction of another, and so one from there.

The crimson of Jack's bandanna-mask and the lines of his set jaw were briefly illuminated as he flicked open his lighter. A quick gesture and application of will transformed the tiny flicker into a pillar of white-hot flame, forming into a fiery rapier in his right hand. His greatcoat swept upward as a kick of his legs propelled him from the rooftop, a series of flips from a flagpole, then a streetlamp, seeing him to the ground. Touching down silently, Jack made his way swiftly towards the warehouse.

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Mongrel Angel had started to patrol a fair bit in West End about a month ago, mainly because there was a particular thief and burglar with powers she wanted to catch in the act again who frequented the area. A side effect of this was of course that she'd been getting caught up in a bunch of other stuff, mostly small stuff.

Tonight however was different; that enduring and controlled flame meant someone with powers was up to something. If it's a villain she'd have to at least try and intervene, if it's a hero she'd just see if she couldn't pitch in and help.

The winged lass swoops in low and lands behind the man with the sword of fire. "Something up?"

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Time to make the rounds thought Captain Knievel. He shrugged up the bar bell that he had been bench pressing in his hideout for the 500th time and placed it on the rack.

He used a towel to dry himself off and took a quick shower. He always liked to look and feel nice. Especially when he was meeting with associates.

After his shower he pulled on his Kevlar combat suit. He strapped on his steel combat boots, and buckled them tightly. He fastened the protection belt around his waist and felt the circuits fuse with his combat suit. The Adrenaline Cannon fastened closed around his right forearm, and the hydraulic cables extended up his arm, down his back, and down his right leg to his boot. The feeling was a familiar and reassuring one. This is quite a wonderful toy you've made for me, Malice. I thank you every time I put it on. The final touch, was his sunglasses.

Once Captain Knievel was decked out in full regalia, he pressed a button on his watch. Suddenly, he was no longer in his base. The teleportation beacon dropped him off near one of his legitimate business establishments in the West End...

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"Gah!" Jack started as a gust of air preceded something landing on the street behind him. Somersaulting forward, the hero twisted and sprung to his feet facing the newcomer, blade at the ready. The light of his sword and the nearby lamppost revealed a fairly unassuming girl, who's large, feathered wings were easily her most distinguishing feature. Somewhat embarrassed by his overreaction, Jack lowered his weapon with a cough. "Cripes, does everybody have wings these days?" he groused. "What are you, Twilight Gryphon's little sister, or something?"

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A extremely athletic man who is still barechested in this cold night is walking on the street while he is carrying his sack that contain his personal belonging. Because he is still wearing his torn pants, it is easier to mistake him for a poor beggar with strange sense of clothing style. But he don't care much about his appearance or what people is thinking about him.

Leon have came to Freedom City for about a month ago and he still don't know much about the city so that he become little lost. He don't have his home yet because he prefer living in the wildness. But because it become night now, he need to find a place where he can sleep until morning where he can continue his travel.

Suddenly he see something humanoid being who flying to the man with a flaming sword? Seeing super being in this Freedom City seem to be pretty common. He don't know what he should do. Because his lack of knowledge of superheroes and supervillains, he don't know if they are heroes or bad guys. So he simple standing there while looking at them.

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Zealot breathed in the air through his nose. Tasting it and feeling it move across his senses. He stood on a rooftop surveying the city beneath him. The people walked and cars rode by, specs to his vision. He liked the perspective. The people, bugs beneath him, and I, he thought touching his scourge at his belt have the perfect magnifying glass. With that thought Zealot trotted to a shadow and teleported, heading towards West End, away from Ev Prep. It was time to earn his keep and hopefully destroy the tainted of this world in the process.

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  • 3 weeks later...

"Cripes, does everybody have wings these days?" he groused. "What are you, Twilight Gryphon's little sister, or something?"

"Nope," Mongrel replied while smiling. "on both counts." She gives the swashbuckler in front of her a quick look-over. "Would you mind me helping you out?"

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Jack was a bit taken aback. The chipper flying girl had seriously derailed his brooding, lone wolf mindset. "I, uh, I guess? I mean, have you done this sort of thing before?" The swordsman wasn't exactly a fan of teen heroes as a rule, and he wasn't crazy about the idea of letting this one put herself in danger, especially since anything that happened to her would be his responsibility. "I can't be fighting and looking out for you at same time, alright, so just... he began gruffly before trailing off. There was something about talking to a grinning girl with wings who had appeared out of thin air that his brain was having difficulty processing. Jack rubbed the bridge on his nose with his free hand. "Nggh. Forget it. You got a name, kid?"

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"Jack. Jack of all Blades." The swashbuckler sighed. Alright, look. It's just a bunch of car jacking punks, but it's a bigger fish scenario, get me? Just stay out of the thick of things and make sure at least one of them's left in condition to answer my questions, alright?"

Turning back around, Jack swiftly made his way to the warehouse entrance. Bending down, he grasped the bottom of the garage door and heaved. The metal slats flew upward, clacking as they receded into the roof, revealing a dozen men who looked up from their work sawing apart stolen cars in surprise. Jack, standing out brightly against the backdrop of the night in the opening, shook his head. "If you boys can't take better care of your toys, we're just going to have to take them away from you." Brandishing his sword, he left forward.

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Jack leapt upon the carjackers, targeting the one with a running buzz saw in his hand first. As a slash from the swashbucklers flaming sword reduced the power tool to useless slag, Jack continued with his forward momentum, tossing the shocked thug backward and into one of his peers. Springing off on a car hood, the hero flipped through the air, launching himself feet first into a third criminal with a satisfying thump. A trio of the carjackers hit the garage floor before the rest even had time to react. The remaining thugs, brandishing pipe wrenches and hack saws, charged with a yell.

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