Deja Vu

[Heritage]

It's very satisfying to give a mook a nosebleed, but in the grand scheme of things it doesn't amount to much; between herself and Nightrival, they had taken out all but the last two hooligans, and that was soon to be just one. Grim decides to mosey on over towards her mentor, keeping an eye on the last thug standing in case he decides to bolt (and really, wouldn't you under the circumstances?).

[Barnum]

Nightrival sent the goon flying back into the truck unconscious. The remaining soldier didn't wait to see the fate of his comrade. He did exactly what Grim expected . . . he took off running for the door.

[Barnum]

Nightrival sent the goon flying back into the truck unconscious. The remaining soldier didn't wait to see the fate of his comrade. He did exactly what Grim expected . . . he took off running for the door.

[Shadowboxer]

Nightrival bolts after the fleeing crook, pumping his legs to catch up to his quarry. After only a few strides, the shadowy avenger easily overcomes him. He pounces on the crook just as the terrified man reaches the large bay door. Nightrival snags his wrist in one hand and swiftly twists his arm in a lock, slamming the crook hard against the door.

"I left ya conscious for a reason, scumbag. I need someone ta talk." Nightrival turns the goon's wrist. "Now, who does this shipment belong ta?"

[Shadowboxer]

Nightrival bolts after the fleeing crook, pumping his legs to catch up to his quarry. After only a few strides, the shadowy avenger easily overcomes him. He pounces on the crook just as the terrified man reaches the large bay door. Nightrival snags his wrist in one hand and swiftly twists his arm in a lock, slamming the crook hard against the door.

"I left ya conscious for a reason, scumbag. I need someone ta talk." Nightrival turns the goon's wrist. "Now, who does this shipment belong ta?"

[Barnum]

Nightrival quickly discovered that the soldier wasn't terrified at all. He was merely making a hasty and judicious retreat. After slamming him to the floor, Nightrival could no longer his face, but he could hear the defiance in his voice.

"Now, who does this shipment belong ta?"

"How should I know. I just work here," he mocked.

The soldier had a hint of a foreign accent, maybe British.

[Barnum]

Nightrival quickly discovered that the soldier wasn't terrified at all. He was merely making a hasty and judicious retreat. After slamming him to the floor, Nightrival could no longer his face, but he could hear the defiance in his voice.

"Now, who does this shipment belong ta?"

"How should I know. I just work here," he mocked.

The soldier had a hint of a foreign accent, maybe British.

[Shadowboxer]

Th' fact he's not scared ain't a good sign, Nightrival grimly concludes.

He adds a little extra pressure onto the crooks wrist. "I heard one of ya scumbags mention the African," he growls in his ear. "What does he hafta do with this?"

[Shadowboxer]

Th' fact he's not scared ain't a good sign, Nightrival grimly concludes.

He adds a little extra pressure onto the crooks wrist. "I heard one of ya scumbags mention the African," he growls in his ear. "What does he hafta do with this?"

[Heritage]

This guys isn't nearly scared enough; maybe I can help him with that.

With a truly evil grin, Grim drops her camouflage outside of their prisoner's field of vision, then shifts into a far more menacing form, a tall vaguely female creature covered in a slick black material and a wide array of spikes, spines and nameless horrible pointy things; her face is a savage crude mask, crisscrossed with white stitching which allows only a pair of baleful blood-red eyes to be seen. This nightmarish version of Grim steps delicately over to the fallen man on four inch heels like bloody fangs, and reaches down to stroke the side of his face with three inch translucent claws. When she speaks, her accent and diction are truly bizarre, like a Russian heroin addict with throat spasms.

"If he no talkzzzzz...can I haves him? Maybe he las-las-lastzzzzz longer than my last one; no fun at all, just buckets and rags and broken glazzzzzzz."

Boy, I hope Bossman twigs to what I'm doing, and doesn't hate me for doing it.

[Heritage]

This guys isn't nearly scared enough; maybe I can help him with that.

With a truly evil grin, Grim drops her camouflage outside of their prisoner's field of vision, then shifts into a far more menacing form, a tall vaguely female creature covered in a slick black material and a wide array of spikes, spines and nameless horrible pointy things; her face is a savage crude mask, crisscrossed with white stitching which allows only a pair of baleful blood-red eyes to be seen. This nightmarish version of Grim steps delicately over to the fallen man on four inch heels like bloody fangs, and reaches down to stroke the side of his face with three inch translucent claws. When she speaks, her accent and diction are truly bizarre, like a Russian heroin addict with throat spasms.

"If he no talkzzzzz...can I haves him? Maybe he las-las-lastzzzzz longer than my last one; no fun at all, just buckets and rags and broken glazzzzzzz."

Boy, I hope Bossman twigs to what I'm doing, and doesn't hate me for doing it.

[Barnum]

He adds a little extra pressure onto the crooks wrist. "I heard one of ya scumbags mention the African," he growls in his ear. "What does he hafta do with this?"

The soldier grunted when his arm was twisted, but he spat back a response. "I don't know nothing about no African." He didn't even dignify Grim's poor attempt at interrogation with a response.

[Barnum]

He adds a little extra pressure onto the crooks wrist. "I heard one of ya scumbags mention the African," he growls in his ear. "What does he hafta do with this?"

The soldier grunted when his arm was twisted, but he spat back a response. "I don't know nothing about no African." He didn't even dignify Grim's poor attempt at interrogation with a response.

[Shadowboxer]

At first, seeing the horrid creature shambling out of the shadows forced Nightrival's heart to race up his throat. Then he remembers that Grim can not only turn invisible, but also shape-shift as well. Luckily he wears a mask to conceal his approving grin, or else the fearless crook would finally end up laughing at Nightrival's pathetic attempt to intimidate him.

Grim's got some imagination. Any soul would be screamin' but this guy ain't even fazed.

"Ya don't wanna talk ta us? Fine. Ya can spill yer guts ta th' cops."

Nightrival corkscrews his wrist in one sudden snap and slams his fist into the back of the crook's skull.

[Shadowboxer]

At first, seeing the horrid creature shambling out of the shadows forced Nightrival's heart to race up his throat. Then he remembers that Grim can not only turn invisible, but also shape-shift as well. Luckily he wears a mask to conceal his approving grin, or else the fearless crook would finally end up laughing at Nightrival's pathetic attempt to intimidate him.

Grim's got some imagination. Any soul would be screamin' but this guy ain't even fazed.

"Ya don't wanna talk ta us? Fine. Ya can spill yer guts ta th' cops."

Nightrival corkscrews his wrist in one sudden snap and slams his fist into the back of the crook's skull.

[Heritage]

Grim reverts back to her normal self, hands on hips as she shakes her head while looking down at their captive. "I overdid it; I think the accent was too much, and maybe that Nineties kind of scary stuff doesn't cut it anymore." She looks up at her mentor and smiles weakly. "Sorry NR, sometimes I got it and sometimes I don't."

She sighs and walks up and down a bit, swinging her arms from side to side, then stops and spins on her heel back to face the older hero. "Hey, I'm sorry if I stepped out of line there, especially not getting the go-ahead on my lame-o-rific attempt to make him pee his pants; I'm not used to working with, y'know, a partner or anything, so I tend to go with my gut, which doesn't always work."

She swirls her hands around dramatically. "I like to mix it up, keep the bad guys guessin', which is always a crap shoot; when it works, it's freakin' awesome, but when it don't, smack! No net, right?"

[Heritage]

Grim reverts back to her normal self, hands on hips as she shakes her head while looking down at their captive. "I overdid it; I think the accent was too much, and maybe that Nineties kind of scary stuff doesn't cut it anymore." She looks up at her mentor and smiles weakly. "Sorry NR, sometimes I got it and sometimes I don't."

She sighs and walks up and down a bit, swinging her arms from side to side, then stops and spins on her heel back to face the older hero. "Hey, I'm sorry if I stepped out of line there, especially not getting the go-ahead on my lame-o-rific attempt to make him pee his pants; I'm not used to working with, y'know, a partner or anything, so I tend to go with my gut, which doesn't always work."

She swirls her hands around dramatically. "I like to mix it up, keep the bad guys guessin', which is always a crap shoot; when it works, it's freakin' awesome, but when it don't, smack! No net, right?"

[Shadowboxer]

"However bad ya think ya did, forget about it. Ya pulled me outta th' fire back there - literally - and that took guts and quick thinkin'. I wouldn't be standin' here if it weren't for ya."

Nightrival kneels and rifles through the crook's pockets. His shoulder begins to burn now, and a dull ache crawls across his back.

"And scarin' this guy? I dunno if he even unnerstands what that means." He shrugs his shoulders and looks at Grim. "We don't always get through ta them, but ya followed yer instincts and that's all we got in this game. Ya did good in my books."

[Shadowboxer]

"However bad ya think ya did, forget about it. Ya pulled me outta th' fire back there - literally - and that took guts and quick thinkin'. I wouldn't be standin' here if it weren't for ya."

Nightrival kneels and rifles through the crook's pockets. His shoulder begins to burn now, and a dull ache crawls across his back.

"And scarin' this guy? I dunno if he even unnerstands what that means." He shrugs his shoulders and looks at Grim. "We don't always get through ta them, but ya followed yer instincts and that's all we got in this game. Ya did good in my books."

[Barnum]

The soldier's pockets contained the usual assortment of junk: gum, a knife, cigarettes, and most notably a beautiful silver lighter, embossed with an flag that Nightrival didn't immediately recognize. But the silver lighter was significant. He had heard rumors of it before. It was almost surely a sign that this soldier worked for the African . . . which meant that somewhere way up the food chain King was involved in this. But that was no surprise at all.

[Barnum]

The soldier's pockets contained the usual assortment of junk: gum, a knife, cigarettes, and most notably a beautiful silver lighter, embossed with an flag that Nightrival didn't immediately recognize. But the silver lighter was significant. He had heard rumors of it before. It was almost surely a sign that this soldier worked for the African . . . which meant that somewhere way up the food chain King was involved in this. But that was no surprise at all.

[Shadowboxer]

Nightrival slips the lighter underneath his belt and stands up. The pain in his shoulder and back begins to subside. He can hear the wind howling outside the garage doors now that the cacophony emanating from the fight has finally ceased. Part of him dreads going back out into the cold, although remaining in the dark parkade isn't a warming thought either.

"If th' African is involved, now we gotta connect 'em ta King," he says to Grim. "But King's only a rumour at this point. It's gonna be hard fingerin' a respectable bigshot like 'im. I mean, what if he isn't actually involved, and it's all jus' some smear campaign?"

Nightrival walks over to the open trailer, picks up a package and removes one of his throwing knives to slice it open. "We should find a phone and get th' cops down here," he adds as he examines the package's contents.

[Shadowboxer]

Nightrival slips the lighter underneath his belt and stands up. The pain in his shoulder and back begins to subside. He can hear the wind howling outside the garage doors now that the cacophony emanating from the fight has finally ceased. Part of him dreads going back out into the cold, although remaining in the dark parkade isn't a warming thought either.

"If th' African is involved, now we gotta connect 'em ta King," he says to Grim. "But King's only a rumour at this point. It's gonna be hard fingerin' a respectable bigshot like 'im. I mean, what if he isn't actually involved, and it's all jus' some smear campaign?"

Nightrival walks over to the open trailer, picks up a package and removes one of his throwing knives to slice it open. "We should find a phone and get th' cops down here," he adds as he examines the package's contents.

[Heritage]

Nightrival walks over to the open trailer, picks up a package and removes one of his throwing knives to slice it open. "We should find a phone and get th' cops down here," he adds as he examines the package's contents.

Grim nods. "On it, boss." She turns to start having a look around, but stops herself and rests her hand on a non-injured part of Nightrival's arm. "Thanks for having faith in me; I'm not used to adults sayin' nice things to me, so...thanks, for everything. It's a nice change of pace." She smiles warmly, and then continues her hunt for a phone.

[Heritage]

Nightrival walks over to the open trailer, picks up a package and removes one of his throwing knives to slice it open. "We should find a phone and get th' cops down here," he adds as he examines the package's contents.

Grim nods. "On it, boss." She turns to start having a look around, but stops herself and rests her hand on a non-injured part of Nightrival's arm. "Thanks for having faith in me; I'm not used to adults sayin' nice things to me, so...thanks, for everything. It's a nice change of pace." She smiles warmly, and then continues her hunt for a phone.