Jump to content
Sign in to follow this  
Lord Bayushi

Patrolling the Fens, Lion About Town (IC)

Recommended Posts

2243 Hours, the Fens of Freedom City

A large figure of a man crouched on a degrading rooftop. The building below him was a theater of pornography, headlining random filth for the perverted, it's flashing lights creating many shifting shadows for the figure to hide in while he surveyed the streets, below. On those streets, the city moved.

As he watched the city's host, the air, always tinged with the scent of the marshes there, reminded him of other roofs across a great distance. The similarities between the Fens of Freedom City and the East End of his native London were many, and he had come to think of them on the same lines. Pimps, prostitution, smut, and drugs were the most pervasive crimes in both, but, much like the East End, violence could break out quickly and viciously.

The Lion of London watched each passing pedestrian for a few seconds, at most. He sized people up quickly, his daughter would say 'judgmentally,' but, with so many years behind him, he really had seen it all. People were much the same as others in similar circumstances, prone to the same actions and follies. In a way, it was reassuring, as it showed him that there were few really terrible people in the world, and that, on the whole, society deluded itself about it's standards.

A drug dealer was on the corner, watching for slow moving cars containing possible clients. Forty feet farther down, a whore paced back and forth between two building doorways, a shadowy figure between the buildings watching her every move like a child bored with a toy, but unwilling to allow anyone else to play with it. Across the street, teenagers dressed in similar fashions and colors sat gathered on a stoop, passing large beer bottles in paper bags between them and lying to one another about sexual exploits. The same things would be seen in London, or in any major city, he would guess. Those were not the things that worried him.

High on the wind, a woman's scream was carried. It was high-pitched, not a shout of anger, but a exclamation of terror. The many sounds of the street distorted it, and it echoed between the buildings, so it was hard to localize, but that didn't matter to Lionheart. He was already in motion, knowing that the time between screams and injury were measured in fractions of seconds, in most cases.

As he stood into the light, it could be seen, if anyone were watching, that he was a clad in a red cape, and that a shaggy mane of hair lined his neck. His clothing was dark, but a smattering of gold glinted here and there, metal catching the light. His hand drew up holding a narrow tube, an inch wide and nearly two inches long, with a strange, pronged tip which also caught the light. He pointed at a high vantage point, depressing a trigger and letting a line fly. He had begun to build up momentum in his swing before he was sure what direction he was aiming for, but his hearing was sharp, and tracking screams was something he had long practice with.

Share this post


Link to post

Crow perched on a rooftop like his namesake, hood pulled up and bandanna obscuring his features. The streets of the Fens, according to his dad, were a great place for new heroes to earn their bones, and he had to admit the parental figure was right. The place practically crawled with both crime and superheroes, three times he'd arrived on the scene of a crime only to see another hero make the collar. Not that he resented it, as a matter of fact it made him quite proud. These were his colleagues now, like his dad and the League way back when. And he was quite confident he'd find something to do, eventually.

The scream from a few alleys over drew his attention right off the bat, and a wolvish smile creased his sharp features under the bandanna. Within moments, he had vanished, reappearing on the other end of the roof at a dead sprint, leaping across the gap to the building opposite. Boots pounded the gravel beneath his feet as he cracked his knuckles, and vanished once again in a swirl of fabric. Within moments he stood atop the alley where the scream had come from, and he halted, breathing heavily. Taking a moment to calm himself, he focused on a single rune, and his body slowly faded from the boots up as if covered in mist. The last thing anyone on those rooftops would have seen was a cheshire grin as the bandanna faded away before the rest of the face...

Mocking, chilling laughter filled the alleyway below, bouncing off of the walls and echoing in the ears of whatever and whoever was committing a heinous crime this night.

Share this post


Link to post

An extra shadow stalked these streets, and it moved without much notice from everyone. Okay, the drug dealer probably noticed when she knocked him upside the head. Silhouette sneered under the fabric of her mask as she turned the guy over and dragged him to the streetlight.

No sales here tonight, but why do they keep coming back to this area. Maybe I should try and get more of a reputation about this particular block like Dragonfly does for her place so I don't have to see these guys first thing in the night. Very mysterious indeed.

Glancing down the street at the prostitute, she gave it a few seconds thought before pulling out a tie and positioning the guys hands behind his back. Maybe she could ask about the girl's pimp later see if she could weedle out a location, maybe. She didn't like harmer prostitutes like she did dealers, there's was a life that was bloody harder on the streets.

Pulling the strand taunt she barely had time to look up when she heard the scream. She moved around the limp dealer and pushed herself against the wall. She saw someone else moving out of the corner of her eye as well, though she didn't particularly recognize him,

Newcomer, or just new to me.

Didn't matter, she'd find out soon enough as she turned down the alley.

Share this post


Link to post

Wind rushed passed the costumed hero as he swung above the roof-tops, trailing his cape out behind him like a flag. The red contrasted with the dark of the night sky, making him easier to pick out, but he didn't mind at the moment. The more attention that was on him, the less that was on the woman screaming. He pushed a stud on the grapple, causing the pitons on the far end to withdraw and the cord to retract, changing his momentum from an arc through the air to a fall to the next roof. He met the surface with his boots solidly, giving off some sound but not enough to be noticed at more than a few yards. He took two long steps to the end of the building, coming down in a crouch in the shadow of a taller building when he reached the edge.

Blow him, the incoherent screams had become understandable pleading. A woman... no, that wasn't right. A girl, no more than twenty, dressed in clothes to match the neighborhood, was being held against the wall by her throat. Her attacker was a boy of similar age, his 'colors' matching those worn by most of the neighborhood kids. He held a hand gun in his other hand, waving it about as he shouted at her. Behind him, two boys, slightly younger, and obviously his comrades, enjoyed the display as they consumed a 'forty' between them.

"You pay, your father pays, everyone pays, bitch. How hard is that for you to understand? You don't want bad things to happen to you around here, you pay the Lakeside Kings like everyone else, or something bad does happen. You get it yet?" He pointed his gun at her head as she pleaded incoherently, making gestures as if he were shooting her.

Lionheart's eyes narrowed. This bloody country and their bloody GUNS! Not a sod of them thinks a chib is enough when they have a bog on, they have to use a gun to make them feel like they have a bloody chopper. No wonder so many of them need Viagra. He went to his belt, depressing a group of metal disks suspended in place by a magnet. The disks came free, filling his hand with their familiar weight. Normally, he would wait, take in all the angles before making a move, but, in this case, he wouldn't waste anymore time. As soon as the boy moved the gun away, he made his move.

He sprang into action, tossing the bladed disks at the boy's weapon while changing position from the roof shadow to the fire escape, dropping two floors in the process. Once the gun was out of the picture, he knew he would have little trouble with these thugs. Strangely, as soon as his weapons left his hand, a strange laughter seemed to permeate the ally.

Share this post


Link to post

As the gun flew out of the boy's hand, it seemed to halt in midair, caught by another set of fingers that rapidly closed around it. For a moment, the weapon seemed to hang in midair, then it abruptly disappeared. A heartbeat after that, the bottle in another one of the boy's hands disappeared as well, followed by another round of the chilling laughter filling the air. An eerily singsong voice echoed, somewhat distorted in the alleyway.

"She thinks of bones...and grinning skulls...and corruptible death...wrapped in his shroud...and now fancies she hears...deep sighs and sees...pale, sickly ghosts... gliding..."

A figure clad entirely in black appeared for a split second, hanging from the wall overlooking the thugs. A frightening silhouette that closely resembled a predator bird, before vanishing.

And then the laughter started again...

Share this post


Link to post

Wow someones been reading to much William Blake.

The mental deadpan didn't distract Sil terribly as she closed the distance between herself and the thugs without much notice. She launched from the wall behind them and lashed out with a flattened hand into the thug. He got lucky in how he was standing and she more caught his side than got the knock out blow she was looking for, but he still seemed shocked to see him. Glancing over towards the man in the cape she gave a wave,

"I see you made it to the welcoming party, Mister?"

Share this post


Link to post

The gunman released his grip on the girl, using the hand to cradle the one that had held the gun a moment before. Hearing the genuinely strange words that were accompanying the unannounced assault, he did what any sane kid would do, he ran. His friends were both more, and less lucky.

The boy struck by the shadowed woman was doubled-over by the blow, more from surprise than from pain, but even in that state, he wandered a few staggered steps after his friend who was leaving the alley. The last kid, who had been the last to hold the bottle that the concealed assailant destroyed, found anger over his lost beer enough to get some payback. His hand began to move, and all three of the crimefighters saw the gun in his waistband once his actions drew attention to it.

The victim did nothing, as she was stunned by the events of the last seconds. She no longer cried out, just sat frozen against the wall, wondering if these newcomers were saviors, or just the next set of thugs.

Share this post


Link to post

His hand was about an ace from the grip of the pistol when the black figure appeared behind him, letting fly with a fist glowing with a dimly glowing energy. It was as if an earthquake was packed into that punch as it connected with the back of the criminal's head, sending him reeling forward. Watching the thug clutch his head in pain for a split-second, the striker then vanished again, just as silently as he had appeared.

Share this post


Link to post

Letting the others stew, Sil decided to go after the runner as he was the only one currently mobile. Sprinting down the way she didn't bother masquerading as a shadow and just lunged forwards with a flattened hand. She caught him right in the kidney and he crumpled from her attack. Turning back she decided to make a running start to try and get a hit on the others this time with a kick which because of strange angling missed by about a foot and a half, not that it mattered, they weren't going anywhere soon.

Share this post


Link to post

The large man was slightly surprised to see the others materialize in the ally. The shadowy woman and the young, melodramatic man. He took, from their body language, that they were also surprised to see one another, and that they were focusing on the thugs, for now, and not the girl. That being the case, he counted them as allies, for the moment, and continued to focus on the foes.

He fired his grapple again, swinging closer to the foes as he felled the most mobile of the two remaining with a handful of disks. He landed, not far from the girl that had brought them all here, he assumed, and took up a slightly defensive stance. As the girl spoke, he met her eyes with her own. "I'm not here for a party, girl. I'm here to make sure that woman is safe. If either of you have intentions otherwise, you'll regret it."

He sized the two up as last thug regained some measure of composure, the regret that he hadn't tried to escape as well evident on his features.

Share this post


Link to post

Sil glanced over at the guy for a few seconds, her mask didn't betray her expression but her eyebrows were raised,

"You're kidding right?"

She took a few steps forward,

"It was a joke, bit sarcasm, geez, don't take things to seriously. If I was here to hurt you I would of let the thugs run an adequite distraction than hit you from behind. But really, why would I, I mean you're clearly not trying to hurt anyone who didn't deserve a good thump on the head anyway and heroes fighting each other because of some 'misunderstanding',"

The last word had air quotes to go along with it,

"Is like the worse comic book cliche ever. Though the whole scary voice thing was a close second Crow,"

She turned to the boy,

"Got to admit though, the shadow was a nice touch, very theatrical."

Share this post


Link to post

Of course, the regret lasted only long enough for the foot descending from above to send him into la-la land, his head sandwiched between Crow's boot and the unyielding ground with a sickening crunch. The teenage hero kneeled down beside the thug, rolling him over and checking for a pulse, Lionheart finally getting a clear view of the figure that had been wreaking such havoc on the thugs' morale throughout the fight; he wore a pair of black jeans with Celtic emblems up the legs in white, a black hoodie with the same across the collar of the hood and the emblem of a crow in flight on the chest, and a pair of black gloves with steel plates across the back of the hand. One of the two boots that had connected with the criminal's head was black, both of them steel-soled by the look of the one on the end of the leg he was kneeling on. Then there was the coat. A great black coat, reaching down to his ankles. Covering the back, up the arms, and on the shoulders were numerous runes, two on his shoulders having small wisps of smoke curling up from them. Standing, he dusted off his hands with a somewhat satisfied mean, before sizing up Lionheart and raising an eyebrow, having clearly heard his words to Silhouette. His voice was slightly muffled by the bandanna as he walked right by the veteran hero, muttering in Gaelic.

"Gcónaí a fháil ar na cinn leis an cuaille suas a n-asal ..."

"Always get the ones with the pole up their arse..."

He motioned to the young lady huddled by the wall, ensuring he kept a safe distance away from her. As easy as it had been to scare the holy hell out of the thugs, he didn't want to do the same to her. The voice this time was softer, and in clear, fluent English.

"Oi, big guy. Y'mind taking care of the young lady? Don't think Silhouette or I would be exactly reassuring."

Not waiting for an answer, he walked out of the alley and looked down at the unconscious thug, simultaneously amused and irritated.

"Just the Veil Rune and a lot of Wind-Walking, Sil. Rest of it is in the Big Scary Voice. Hehe...and...ah...cac. Now we gotta wait for one of these idiots to wake up."

Share this post


Link to post

The older man ignored the quips from the young woman, and nodded in agreement with the lad. He recognized the accent and any Irishman would have found his own unmistakable, and had heard the Irish use Gaelic before, but never learned the language. He assumed it was something demeaning aimed at the downed punks.

He strode over to the still frightened young woman. "You're safe, for the time being. You might want to think about your future, though, and tell me... us, as much about these wankers as you know." He attempted to sound calming, reassuring, but he feared he would just come off as stern, as usual.

The girl finally made a sound again, but it was sobbing, not answers. She dropped to a crouch against the wall behind her, crying loudly, he half-comments cut off by her blubbering. In an almost feeble gesture, the big man slumped his shoulders and sighed, but it lasted only a second. Back to his practiced, professional confidence in a flash, he looked back to the others. "Do either of you know anything about the gangs in this area? If we don't do something about the larger problem, she is sure to come into peril again."

Share this post


Link to post

Crow picked up the unconscious thugs, one after the other, and dumped them at the side of the alley, looking about for some form of rope. Idly, he placed his hands into his pockets. One brushed up against the pistol he'd taken from the thug, and he removed it, looking at the item askance. Taking a moment, he lifted it up and channeled the Earth rune's energy into his hand again, shattering the gun with a solid blow and dropping the pieces into a handy garbage can. After that, he simply dusted off his hands and looked to the others.

"Not a clue, mate. Sil knows the lay of the land around here a hell of a lot better than I do...as for the girl, could call the proper authorities and have them haul the thugs away, look after her too?"

Share this post


Link to post

Sil thought about it for a few moments,

"The Lakeside Kings is what he said he was collecting for right? I'm encountered them before, they're a nasty bunch of brats who broke off from the Lakeside Knights. Though the Knights are pretty into bootlegging and the like, they're not very violent, but these brats, well you saw how he was harressing her."

She poked a thumb at the girl,

"They've been going around trying to expand there influence by hitting up the drug market and offering protection."

She put up finger air quotes for the last word,

"I'm surprised they haven't been taken care of by a larger organization, though they might have a shadow sponser which might explain why they haven't be all shipped to juvey yet."

Share this post


Link to post

The girl had become more coherent over the last moments. Lionheart had squatted down next to her, listening. "Father...shop...cars....wanted to help...goons...shop...father, I need to talk to my father." He simply nodded, standing and offering a hand to help her up.

"It's alright, girl, we'll take you there." He waited for her to gather herself while he listened to Silhouette's information. He gave off a 'Tsk' at the reference to 'brats.' "The kids in this bloody country. Sure, Britain has it's football hooligans, but here, every child want's to be 'gangsta'." The last word sounded very unnatural, and spit out, rather than spoken.

He placed his arm around the young victim, speaking to his costumed allies as he did. "I'll walk this girl to her father, and call the authorities, as... Crow, was it, suggested. Then, I will try to gather more information about these kids, maybe find someone old enough to be held accountable.

"If you two intend to be on these streets tonight, it would be better for us to work together than trip over one another. I'm Lionheart, and, if you haven't guessed, I haven't been here in the colonies long. I live here, in Freedom City, now, and have taken interest in trying to clean it up a bit. I gathered his name, and you are Silhouette?"

Share this post


Link to post

Crow listened to Lionheart speaking, a distinct eye-twitch developing over his left eye. The infamous family temper was getting steadily riled up, although he kept it in check. The fact that a torrent of Celtic insults didn't pour out of his mouth was testament to that fact, although he clenched his fist hard enough that his knuckles popped.

"Let's just...get the job done, aye? And welcome to the United States, Leo, hope you enjoy your stay."

He nodded at Lionheart, giving a knowing look to Silhouette, then turned and walked over, kneeling by the thugs and pondering methods of restraining them until said authorities arrived.

Share this post


Link to post

Sil rolled her eyes at the rather typical assertion of the gangster culture,

"Yes, I am called Silhouette, and you shouldn't knock kids. Not sure what the trends are where you're from, but half the heroes in this city are under the age of twenty, and they are damn good at their job."

She left Lionheart to deal with the girl since she seemed far more fond of him, and Sil herself wasn't known for her bedside manner. Kneeling down next to crow she pulled two zip ties from one of her pockets and bound his arms,

"So, how's life, well superhero life, not terribly interested in the rest as we don't we know each other under the mask and I intend to keep it that way."

Share this post


Link to post

The girl had risen from the wall, and began to walk to the mouth of the alley, with Lionheart in tow. He followed her two blocks down, to a used tire shop that had seen better days. It had seen both graffiti and window damage in recent days, and, by the look of things, was probably no longer in business. She led him up a short set of stairs, to a door leading to a small appartment above the shop. She unlocked it with a key she fished out of her purse, and motioned for him to follow her inside.

The small appartment was not what Lionheart had expected. It was clean, well lit, and had the looks of a home. It was small, only a kitchen, bedroom, bathroom, and small den, but it was filled with old and tasteful furnishings and had the feeling of a place that had been lived in and cared for over many years. In the small den, a man in his later years sat in an old recliner holding a wet rag to his forehead. There were red stains on the white cloth, and the man appeared to have been recently injured. The girl ran to him instantly, calling "Daddy" as she did so. He cradled her in his arms, looking over her shoulder at the strangely clad man behind her.

Lionheart explained the situation, as he had seen it, and did his best to calm the man's rage over the matter. He was told that the thugs from the alley way had come there, demanding money they didn't have. When the man had stood up for himself, they struck him. His daughter had run for help, and they had chased her, catching up to her in the alley. Lionheart convienced the man to call the police and report the attack, and took a moment to make sure that neither of them needed medical attention before he asked to use their phone, himself.

He made a few calls, seeking information on the gangs of the Fens, and finding few answers. The only thing he could find out was a bar, not far from the site of the attack, often occupied by members of the older gang, the Lakeside Knights. Feeling he was well on his way to wearing his welcome thin, he returned to the alley.

He approached the younger costumed heroes, still ahead of the police. "I wasn't able to find out much. The bobbies are on the way, the girl is with her father, hopefully safe. All I could learn was that the Lakeside Knights hang out in a pub about three streets down. We could see what they know about the younger punks."

Share this post


Link to post

"Right, than."

The police had managed to arrive and take the guy in the time it took for Lionheart to take care of the girl.

"Well if it's a pub, we probably don't have to beat information out of anyone, since if they're drinking anyway, they're bound to be complaining about these brats trying to bloody up their turf. Me and Crow can probably eavesdrop if he does that shadow thing again, and appear if we find anyone who might have some solid intel. You okay with waiting outside, you ain't exactly subtle, unless you want to change into your civvies."

Share this post


Link to post

Crow wiggled his hand a bit in a so-so gesture, leaning back on one of the alley walls while watching the cops work.

"It's not exactly a 'shadow thing', but yeah, I can be pretty sneaky when I want to be. And I dunno, Sil, I didn't see him coming until I was over the roof and in the alley, so..."

The teen shrugged, fidgeting with a plate on his glove.

"Anyway. Bit of gangbusting sounds like fun, let's hop to it."

Share this post


Link to post

The old Brit considered the younger two for a moment, and then nodded. "I will wait outside if that will make either of you feel better. I will stay close by, able to provide support should things get out of hand." He walked to the end of the alley and pointed in the direction of the bar. "The pub is called 'The Rust Bucket,' its a few blocks down, a bit of a dive as I understand it. I will keep at height unless I am needed."

With that, he reached to his belt under his cape, and produced his grapple gun, aiming it at a nearby ledge. "Best of luck, yanks." He fired the line, and then ascended out of sight.

Share this post


Link to post

The bar smelled, like well a bar, liquor and cigerettes mostly as she slipped in through the door. She looked around a little bit, didn't find much except that the bartender smartly had a weapon under the counter. So instead, she gave the place a good sweep and noticed three members of the gang they were looking for chatting it up. She snuck closer, and put an ear out as they went on in Spanish. Nothing too difficult for her, as she had several family reunions practice of eavesdropping on fast spanish speakers.

Share this post


Link to post

The 'Rust Bucket' was a basement bar, well filled with clientele at peak hours of the night. The bar was filled with gang members fitting the descriptions of the Lakeside Knights. In the corner, three of the members discussed a heated subject in Spanish, one of them, in particular, was livid.

As Crow lurked in the rafters, Sil closed in on the group of gang members. Just as she moved in close, one of the three stood up abruptly, slamming his fist onto the bar in anger. He broke the language barrier, swearing in English as he did so. "Dammit, Jesus, I am talking about my mama's house! Not my friend, or some girl that worked at a store on the street, it is my family! I am going down to that warehouse, alone if I have to, and stuffing Jimmy's head up his..."

An older, larger man of Hispanic decent cut him off. "I know what you want to do, Kenny, and I still say no! If you go down there, they will kill you. If we all go down there, the whole neighborhood will burn! We can't start a war," he began to trail off to a much lower tone, "and I don't know that we would live through it. I just don't know what to do." The final bit sounded fatalistic, like a tired man at the end of his rope.

The younger man was still visibly angry, but sat back down. "What are we going to do, 'Sus? We have to do something." He also lowered his tone. "This is going to end bad, one way or the other."

Share this post


Link to post

Silhouette crept closer, though it wasn't really nessicary with how loud they were being. Sneaking a pen off the bar, she pulled a slip of paper out of her pocket and scribbled a quick note. Then just as slyly, she slipped the not right to the edge of the larger man's glass.

Want some help dethroning some kings? Meet me outside and I'll see what I can do.

It wasn't signed, but the message was clear. Sil slipped her way out of the bar, making a gesture towards Crow to follow before she sulked over to the shadow directly from the outside light, she whispered to Crow,

"Called out the Knights, don't appear unless they get hostile."

Share this post


Link to post
Guest
This topic is now closed to further replies.
Sign in to follow this  

×