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Good Intentions Boulevard (IC)


Brown Dynamite

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2011, November 28th, 09:23 PM

Southside

Erick Sloane had not been able to focus on much throughout the entirety of the day. Which didn't make his classes anymore pleasant. Erick's nightly activities as the vigilante Omen was the source of his mental unrest. Omen had been following the trail of a rumored bomb maker for what seemed like a week now. Bangers weren't the most reliable source of information and had led the acrobatic vigilante to more than a fair share of dead ends. Still his dedication had finally begun to pay off as Omen had been able to pinpoint the bomb maker's residence in an apartment off of O'Donnell street.

Sitting upon a nearby rooftop, Omen felt the cold air against his skin as he watched a nervous looking man enter into an apartment complex. "He looks like he's in need of friend. I should welcome him into the neighborhood. I don't want to be rude after all." A grin appeared on the vigilante's face before firing off a line with his grappling gun onto the nearby roof. Swinging through the air Omen crashed through one of the topmost windows hoping to catch the man before he reached his appartment.

It was amazing how quickly everything started to fall apart, truly a bang up job as far as disasters went. A clicking sound filled the air as Omen felt a metallic ring tighten around his right wrist. Quickly turning his head to figure out what had just happened Omen was able to make out that he was now attached to a physically imposing Russian man grinning wildly. Omen's eyes narrowed behind his domino mask, slowly the young man pierced together what was happening. "Crap."

In response the man continued to smile. The man began to speak with a thick russian accent, "Welcome, my bosses don't appreciate, how you say, encroaching on their business. After tonight you won't be problem no more." The overly enthusiastic man raised his free hand to reveal what appeared to be a remote control of sorts. "Of this I am sure."

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GM

It happened almost in slow motion. The Russians thumb slowly closed down on the remote, to the applause of a ferocious explosion, and then another, and then another.

"You think you are so the smart!" laughed the Man. "No so the smart now! We onto you, foolish American! dropping hints, we worry to obvious, you work it out, but no, you fell right into trap like fly into web hahaha!"

The smoke and the screams could be heard in the distance.

"Now, we have picture of you coming into building. And bomb go off just after. Omen of fire hahaha! Keep you off backs now, you behind bars, not us!"

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Omen's pulse began to slow as his entire body tensed up. It wasn't bad enough that Erick's biggest critic would always be himself, but he really messed up. Staring into the smoke he knew that if he didn't act quickly people could be lost in the flames just like his parents. If only he could get his legs to follow along with that game plan. The entire ordeal was just bringing by too many foul memories.

No, not quite like before. This time he would be able to act. Dealing with the set up would have to wait, for now Omen needed to make sure no one got hurt. Including the loudmouth attached to him. Filled with rage, and quite mentally taxed, the young hero began to scowl. "You better hope that not a single person gets killed tonight. Or else you'll start to wish the bomb killed you." He wasn't sure how threatening he was sounding, nor did he care. The only thing he could focus on was fixing his mistake.

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GM

"You better hope that not a single person gets killed tonight. Or else you'll start to wish the bomb killed you."

The Russian laughed.

"I am good guy!" he said, with mock sincerity "see? I make citizens arrest!" he added, bringing up their padlocked arms. "We good guys, you snoopy mask are bad guy? don't be the sad? all works out well, niet?"

He laughed again. The sprinkler system activated and showered them with water before, after only a few seconds, dribbling to a stop.

"Oh ho ho!" said the Russian. "American water systems not so good eh?" he mocked "So sad no water. Why could that be...ho ho ho!" the man was almost hysterical with laughter, despite the smoke, being soaked, and the start of screams for help and fear...

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Keeping his fluency in Russian a secret Omen replied in a low growl, "Yes, you're a swell guy. Let's see who is arrested at the end of the day." He huffed as his body began getting soaked in water from the sprinklers. It did bring his attention to the plight of those screaming for help. Memories of the charred remained of Erick's parents once again flooded his mind. Without wasting a moment Omen began desperately tugging on his arm to try and lead the psychotic Russian by force. "You have what you want. So come on, we have to help those people." The situation continued to go from bad to worse with little sign of improvement.

Worst of all this guy thought he was a comedian. But Omen couldn't just try and pick the lock in the first place, the only thing that could possibly worsen the situation would be losing track of the large Russian. Although that didn't change the fact that the guy probably had a key on him. Omen just couldn't handle thinking through all the what ifs while the building was engulfed in flames.

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GM

The big Russian resisted the pull - and he was surprisingly strong, as well as heavy.

"No no!" he said, more seriously "We got out now, I make Citizens Arrest on Omen, everything works out well, niet?"

He used both hands to tug Omen back, his laugh failing as he realised Omen was just as strong, if not stronger.

"Come, come" he said "no-body wants to burn alive, do they? saving of the own skin, as you say!"

He looked around, seeing the bellowing smoke start to creep over the ceiling and out of the hole where Omen had busted into the building.

"Saving of the skin, it good, yes?" he asked Omen, wrestling with the handcuffs.

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Omen found the man's lack of regard for the lives of the other occupants of the building downright disgusting. It was simply reprehensible. "No. We're not going. No one burns alive. I don't care about your citizen's arrest. If you want to leave here it'll be after we get everyone else out. Then you we can quote unquote do the saving of the own skin." Growing more desperate at the sight of smoke Omen felt the time for having a philosophical rapport over human life was over. As such he twisted his hips inwards while putting more force into yet another tug of the handcuffs hoping to end the stalemate.

"Let's go already." He already knew this wasn't going to be an easy trek. He had no access to his natural acrobatics to begin with and there was no way Omen could make progress while being resisted at every turn. His costume wasn't exactly flame retardant either.

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GM

The Russian looked shocked, and actually stumbled on numb feet as Omen pulled him along.

"What?" he yelled "You serious? You mad! You is the Stupid Capes! You risk your life for little people? Pfah they are nothing! NOTHING!" he spat gazing at Omen in shock and awe.

"You are the serious! You really are the burning for them...you crazy..."

He shuffled along, following Omen, and using his free hand to pull his hair.

"This is not good of the plan..." he muttered "This is not how happening meant to be. We got to get here out, look, smoke, fire, hot...we got to get out....please, mister the Omen! using the brain! what you doing? how you survive?"

The man was now swearing badly, although it was hard to tell whether it was from fear or heat, or both.

Because it was getting hot...

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The Russian man wasn't the only one feeling the heat. Omen was well aware of the temperature increase. His breath had been more shallow for a good while now. There was a good chance some of the sensation he was feeling was psychosomatic of course. Not that it made the situation any better. "Finally catching on? Yes I'm gonna risk my life for everyone here. And as long as you're attached so are you. So just shut up and be compliant and we'll make it out of here."

He hadn't addressed the part asking about how they would survive. To be frank their chances weren't great. Even ignoring the risks of smoke inhalation with his re-breather and dropping to a lower floor. They still had to stay on the top floor long enough to see if there was anyone around. Not to mention getting them out of the building. Omen's gameplan just like always would be to stay in motion. They needed to keep moving if they were to make it through this horrible buddy cop movie.

Hopefully the fire escape was still sturdy on the building. Actually, he was hopeful the entire building was sturdy. Once again he attempted to move towards the door positive that his new 'partner' would be more inclined to help out now that he realized they could die if he didn't participate. "Let's go already. We only have so much time."

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GM

The Big Russian, clearly frightened, alternated between resisting and helping. One thing was certain, he would be a big lump of dead weight if he was unconscious.

Omen kicked open the door to the stairs - the designated emergency escape. It was full of fumes but still empty.

The apartment complex was 5 floors. The top, where he had busted in, was pretty empty. The ground level was halls and reception, so that was probably relatively empty too. That left floors 3,2, and 1, with the residents in.

There was an outside iron fire escape, hopefully at least some residents had managed to get away.

Another explosion boomed through the stairwell, and with it, the roof cracked, spraying debris over Omen and the Russian. It was swiftly followed by a belch of smoke and a large part of the roof collapsed on them, with a steel girder swinging straight towards the pair!

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Omen heard the sound of the building begining to give way overhead. Looking up at the at the oncoming debris his eyes began to widen with worry. Omen was quick to react and tackled the Russian down the stairs to avoid either of the pair getting crushed. "Have I told you that I really hate your plan yet? Because I think it's a good time to do that." Pulling himself off the man Omen had yet to forget why they were moving about the building. Resorting to a bit of humor to keep his mind focused he began to quip, "Let's call that the starting pistol then."

He felt a little insane trying to go back into the burning building. But the two of them weren't the only ones working on borrowed time. He hoped his Russian fashion accessory wouldn't give him much more trouble after almost getting crushed. Omen would proceed to begin tugging the large Russian along as he continued to make his way down the stairs. He had to put the near death experience out of his head as he moved for the entrance to the third floor. The young vigilante began to call out into the blazing floor, "Is anyone here?! Call out if anyone is on this third floor please!" He pleaded at the top of his lungs hoping to help cut the time needed to explore if by at least working with absolutes.

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GM

A man, dressed in a suit, came stumbling out of the smoke. He was of a largish build, African American, maybe in his thirties. Looked like a banker, or a city boy.

He looked slightly singed but otherwise in fair health, although he was coughing violently.

"Get...*hack*...get me out of here!" he said, grabbing Omen by his costume and pleading with him.

"We gotta get out of here...now...this whole floor is ablaze...gotta...get out!..." he said, gripped by panic.

"Pathetic!" replied the Russian "You risking your the skin for him?" he asked Omen, a trace of his contempt coming back. "Throw him out window, that save him from the burning, eh?"

The suited man gave the Russian a fearful but defiant look "Nobodies throwing me out of the window? I got too much to live for! Its every man for himself!"

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Turning his head towards the Russian Omen whispered in a low hush, "Nobody asked your opinion on the matter. If you have nothing helpful to say shut your mouth." The blonde teen would then turn to face the large man directly in front of his chest. His cough was worrisome, but he still maintained a healthy appearance which was a good start.

Omen continued to maintain his calm facade as he tried to get a word in edgewise. "No one's going out any windows sir. The stairs are sturdy enough to get out as long as you don't try to go up any higher. Bit of a structural problem. I will make sure you get out of here safely you have to trust that. But you've got tell me did you see anyone else on this floor?"

He wasn't surprised that the Russian continued to give him trouble. If something like fear of death was enough to slow a Russian down then Erick was in the wrong line of work. Unfortunately, the man in the suit might be a bit too panicked to be a reliable source of information. Let alone stay in place. Still Omen had to play the cards dealt to him. As he waited for the man to answer Omen stepped back to give him some space for the stairwell.

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GM

"Ah...I..." stuttered the man, looking over his shoulder at the fumes, smoke and flames behind him.

"I...dunno...I think maybe, er, someone, er, I think she is dead, I saw her burn up, it was...horrible..."

He looked at Omen again, panic in his eyes.

"Look, anyways, we gotta get out of here, this whole building is gonna go! some bomb's went off, you understand? it ain't safe here anymore!" he gulped, and without ran to the stairs.

"Come on, dude! Don't waste your time here!" he yelled, to the sound of some more falling ceiling. Indicating that Omen and the Russian should go to the second floor with him.

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Omen didn't buy it. Well at least not completely, the man trailed off much too much for his personal taste. Still he had assumed as much from the man, it was actually the reason he had backed off to give him the room to move the stairwell without interruption. Erick's blue eyes looked brightly down at the man in the suit. "Sorry although I know this guy would love to hear otherwise, I have to be sure."

He was glad that the man in the suit was at least healthy enough to finish the trek out of the building alone. Smoke rising was a basic concept to understand so at the very least the guy's cough would be less of an issue. "Welp, time to keep going." Erick wasn't waiting around for a response from the Russian either. He immediately began moving to enter the smoke filled area intent on searching for the supposedly burnt woman.

A sinking feeling began to take over. He was readily hoping that they hadn't been too slow to act. Dry swallowing he began to call out once more, "Hello! Can anyone here me? If you can hear the sound of my voice please respond I'm here to help!"

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GM

"Hello! Can anyone here me? If you can hear the sound of my voice please respond I'm here to help!"

"Help....help!" came a faint voice, a woman's voice. It was from room 309, the door was ajar, but already aflame. The smoke and heat were really unbearable here.

Looking in, Omen could see a woman, wrapped up in a dressing gown, hand over her mouth, coughing. She looked injured, and was crawling along the floor. It was hard to see in the smoke, but it looked like her left leg was broken, perhaps badly. The room itself was ablaze in several areas, and part of the ceiling had collapsed, on fire. It was surely that collapse that had injured the young woman.

She looked Spanish, or thereabouts, with a dark olive complexion and a heavily made up face, now awash with tears from the smoke and fear.

"Help me...my leg..." she whispered, coughing.

Unfortunately, some collapsed ceiling had blocked off the door, and was quietly ablaze, a wall of flame between the woman and the door...

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If he had full range of motion, Omen could have tried getting in from one of the room's windows or even the collapsed part of the room itself. That wasn't an option and there was no need to focus on the have nots. "I'll be right in don't worry." Trying to kick the door that was a blocked off by by the burning ceiling wasn't too endearing of an option either. But if push came to shove he'd do what he needed to do, and it'd probably hurt. A lot.

Instead of rushing right in, Omen began to frantically look around the floor for some way at least put out the flames immediate to the door seeing as the sprinklers had obviously failed their explosive test. A fire extinguisher would be the most likely source of relief. Although, Erick wouldn't complain if he came across a wet standpipe.

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  • 2 weeks later...

GM

"Dont be foolish the idiot!" yelled the Russian, over the smoke and flames. He was petrified that the hero was going to make a jump for it over the flames and consign them both to a fiery doom.

He looked around, adrenaline sharpening his vision.

"Look, look!" he yelled "Yes, Yes! the Fire Barrel shootings the foam!" he said excitedly. Omen's new ally pointed just a few metres down the hall, where a fire extinguisher lay clamped to the wall, to all examination in full working over.

With a few strides, the Russian leaned over and tore it from the wall, thrusting it into Omen's hand.

"You use, yes? Not so the burning!"

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For the first time, Omen began to consider how long he had been within the burning burning building. His clothing was doing little to help the fact that he could tell that he was beginning to perspire less as time went on. If he was capable of a more reasonable mindset near flames he'd probably work on cooling himself off. Looking around further he was able to find an emergency fire extinguisher behind breakaway glass. Smashing the glass with his elbow, the teen reached for the red metallic tube and began rushing for the room with the trapped woman. Dragging the large Russian along with little choice.

A wet standpipe would have been much better. But the rarity of them, much less the rarity of one built inside a building as opposed to outside was simply a reminder of the amount he spent to keep his penthouse fire free. With his free hand on the nozzle pointed towards the door to the room Omen used his trapped hand to spray the door with the fire protection device. As he began to kill the flames, Omen would square his body. If it wasn't obvious before he was going to try and break his way in by force soon. The moment he felt it was safe enough Omen's leg would fly out in a forward kick to knock the door open.

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(GM)

The heat was indeed rising, as was the smoke and flames. Even the air seemed to choke and constrict the lungs.

The flames died under Omen's aim, and his boot soon finished the task, kicking a path to the woman, who was only a few steps from unconsciousness.

"Help...me..." she whispered. As Omen bent down beside her he could see she had broken her leg - badly - from a falling masonry. It looked burnt too. But the impossible angle in which it bent at the fibula / tibula region was the give away. There was some blood, but it didn't look like she was bleeding out.

"Woman leg broken, I see it from War" nodded the Russian, examining her. "No goods the helping, time to cut the losses and the leaving..." he said, tugging on the handcuffs.

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