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The man snorted in response to that comment.  "Sure.  Whatever.  Have you seen the number of guys in masks with personality disorders?"  And with that he shut out Paige, at least making it a matter of effort on her part now.  "Some guys meets my meet up fee, and knows the channels to contact me?  I don't ask questions outside of the specifics what they want and how much they pay."  He winced at that much talking, the ribs hurting from what Thoughtspeed had done, and he sagged to the ground.

 

ELSEWHERE...

 

Detectives Boyle and Kirkendahl  were leaving the precinct (nearest to the building the other things was transpiring at).  Kirkendahl popped a piece of off white gum into his mouth as he looked down at his phone.

 

"Always staring at that thing," Boyle tutted as he slung on his trenchcoat, and adjusted his collar.

 

"You are jealous of my social life, Boyle."  Kirdendahl snorted back his reply.

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"-of my social life, Boyle."

 

Suddenly a black-and-green blur raced past the two men, turned at the end of the block, raced back toward them, and finally all but skidded to a halt in front of them. It resolved into a male figure dressed in a snug black jumpsuit with glowing green geometric lines and a faceless black helmet that said figure reached up and tapped. The helmet quickly folded down and away into a metallic collar piece, revealing a dark-haired young man in a black domino mask with a concerned expression on his face. If either of the detectives had much of any Supercrime!, they knew this was young Thoughtspeed!

 

"You're detectives? Police? Great! Awesome! Crime to report! What's the charge for shooting big guns at folks without provocation? Like all sniper-style? Especially superheroes? Come on that's a crime right right right? We need to go there's thugs with guns and stuff come on!"

 

He seemed a bit agitated. 

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To their credit their hands went to their guns on instinct, reacting to something that they probably couldn't stop.  But then they were assigned to dealing with that sort of crime.  Though, Kirkendahl, an avowed fan of the show, widened his eyes as he saw who it was, while both detectives relaxed to some degree. 

 

"Right, right...  calm down, okay?  We need you to explain what is happening."  Kirkendahl lifted a hand, and held it up towards Thoughtspeed, as Boyle was looking at the young hero with a bit more of a flat expression.

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Thoughtspeed stopped, closed his eyes, breathed deeply, and counted to 10 15 times (in a few seconds) before speaking again, more calmly, and slowly.

 

"My friend is being held hostage by someone. Or some group. They're torturing him. We detected his...basically his cry for help. And we've gotten a few more impressions, and it's bad. We were trying to follow up on a lead at some office, when a jerk with a big gun shot at us. So we ran over and punched all his friends out. And then I sworded him into submission. He's secure, but you guys probably want to, like, arrest him or something. Preferably sooner, so we can go rescue my friend before he's dead or a zombie or something."

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  • 2 weeks later...

Boyle, stopped, tired looking man who had been on the job for what seemed like forever, even if his suit was sharp, cleanly pressed.  He stepped towards the young hero, his hands up, "Alright, good, slower is good.  We need you to give us some more details, alright?"

Kirkendahl, the friendlier looking guy, pulled his radio out of his  overcoat pocket, as he stood there in his ill fitting suit, waiting for the kids response.  Sure he was a fan of Supercrime, and all, but neither he or his partner were going to get ruffled by a hero's presence when on the job.

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With Paige psychically probing the thugs now that their employer had finished what he had to say, Richard took the opportunity to undertake a physical search - shaking down every man for his weapons, his gear, and any further means of showing how he'd gotten here and what his intentions had been. Beyond the obvious, that is - bunch of asses. "Time was," he told the men, "I'd just have shaken you down for what's in your pockets before I kicked you into the damn bay," he told the bound thugs without a worry, "but now I don't need to go chasing around after dirty money, because I've cleaned myself up and gotten a good job. C'mon," he urged the thugs, "you guys can do better than this."

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On 1/19/2017 at 11:18 AM, TheAbsurdist said:

Boyle, stopped, tired looking man who had been on the job for what seemed like forever, even if his suit was sharp, cleanly pressed.  He stepped towards the young hero, his hands up, "Alright, good, slower is good.  We need you to give us some more details, alright?"

Kirkendahl, the friendlier looking guy, pulled his radio out of his  overcoat pocket, as he stood there in his ill fitting suit, waiting for the kids response.  Sure he was a fan of Supercrime, and all, but neither he or his partner were going to get ruffled by a hero's presence when on the job.

Thoughtspeed continued to run patience exercises in his head. 

 

"The address where the jerks are is-"*insert building location here*"-And we're still trying to figure out where my friend is. He's not just getting punched or burned, they're..."

 

He stops for a moment, and looks almost ill for just a few moments before he continued.

 

"It felt like they were trying to wipe him out. Not, like, kill him. Wipe out his...his mind. His personality. His identity. Please. We have to keep moving."

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Metal crumpled beneath her feet as Thaelia descended from above.  Plummeting directly onto the front of the detective's vehicle, the aftermath appeared much like a head on vehicle collision.  On a normal night, Thaelia would stop and apologize for the damage caused.  But, on a normal night she wouldn't have the memory of a friend's screaming resonating through the back of her head.  Not even stopping to look at her surroundings, the Atlantean princess braced her legs and leaped up into the air once more. 

 

Patience was not a virtue for the Glamazon.  Especially not when a friend, even one with who she often had a tense relationship.

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  • 2 weeks later...

Their efforts to respond to the impatient, and understandably so, Thought Speed there was a loud crunch as the impact of a weighty Atlantean girl hit the two detectives'  Car.  A pause, before she leaped away, crumpling steel, and glass, and plastic body panels.  Kirkendahl winced with that, while Boyle just swore under his breath, and he looked back to the hero before them.  "We'll catch up there.  Considering we talked to her about your friend, can you catch her and guide her to where the rest of you are."  There would be paperwork later, but they'd deal with it later, once all the things that needed paperwork were on the table.

 

BACK WITH THE PARENTS...

 

The shooter snorted a bit, as he remained on his belly, shifting hurt too much to do anything else.  Paige could readily confirm that his his ribs were broken.  The thugs were zip lipped, and extensively armed, with stuff that was bleeding edge military tech.

 

However, eventually one of the would get smart mouth and response back to Fast Forward, "Sorry, we ain't in a family business.  I don't need no stupid ex-thug preachin' to me, I want that I'd go to confession," came the surly response from the thug, who rolled onto his back to look up at him, still wearing his mask, with what looked like anti-flare type goggles, but he laughed.  "We're just watching the guy your kid just beat up.  Before he freaked out and whined about 'shooting my family,' are you kidding?  Do pull a desk job."  The goon kept laughing and shaking his head.

 

The shooter lifted his head enough to scowl at the talkative guy, "Shut up."  Said with a level of menace he simply hadn't demonstrated to the Clines', thus far.

Edited by TheAbsurdist
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Thoughtspeed whirled as Glamazon landed, visibly wincing at the car damage. He was upset, but not that upset. He turned back to the detectives and nodded, his helmet unfolding even as he spoke.

 

"Yeah. I'll catch up with her and get her back with my...with the others. Drive safe, detectives."

 

His voice seemed concerned, not sarcastic. Considering he'd described a sniper and an ambush scenario, it wasn't that unfounded. He gave a jaunty salute, and then he was blurring through the streets, racing to catch up with the leaping Glamazon. His mental voice knocked on the proverbial door of her mind as he ran.

 

--Glamazon! Thaelia! It's Thoughtspeed! Will! Please, listen, you're ticked, so am I, but you need to follow me! My parents and I, we found a lead, but we got shot at finding it! Follow me, please, and try not to crush any more cars?--

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Thaelia was surprised by Will's presence within her mind.  It was sudden, but still not the most forceful mental intrusion she had felt that day on account of the mental wail.  Landing on the asphalt she took less than a moment to contemplate what he had explained.  "Lead the way," the Atlantean demigodess exclaimed rather than attempting to respond by thought. 

 

The days where she could keep up with Will on land had long since passed.  But, she could still clear the city faster than pretty much any land vehicle just by running along the ground.  Rather than leaping around in a reckless frenzied search as had been her tactic up to this point.

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"Oh come on, you're not gonna let Mr. Big tell you what to do, are you?" Fast-Forward knelt down in front of the talkative thug, deliberately showing his back to the triggerman. There were advantages to working in a team. He smiled at the man, his face all teeth. "Big tough guy like you probably has a lot of things to say. Come on, tell me more about my kid." Getting more conversation didn't really have any downsides at the moment, even with Will not too far away. "Things aren't gonna be easy either way. You can make 'em less hard, though."

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Thoughtspeed nods at Glamazon.

 

-Try to stick with code names. We've got a bunch of thugs tied up and no cops yet. Sorry if the mind-speak startled you. I'll talk you through the directions there.-

 

With that, he zipped off again, sending Thaelia quick bursts of mental information and instructions to help guide her to the building. When they reached it, he stopped outside, looking up for a moment. He turned to Thaelia and spoke aloud.

 

"See you up near the top, shouldn't be hard, just watch where I go."

 

Then he ran up the side of the building and into a busted-out window, skidding to a stop inside the room as he took stock of it. 

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The thug looked up at Fast-Forward, the goggles off of his face, and his eyes were scrunched up a bit at him.  "Do I get a reality show too?  Jesus you are old enough to my dad, and you're trying to sell me that crap?  Y'think a guy who can drop money on us, and the rest wont just spend more to have me knifed?  I'll take four walls and three squares in genpop in some federal gig over that.  If I was you, I'd  chalk whatever you're after as a loss.  It ain't worth the fire that'll come down on your head."  There was  flash of worry on the guy's eyes, as he clearly believed that they could not help him, even if he turned.

 

The shooter said nothing, after all he hadn't been hired to keep the goons quiet, well, this time around.

This was when Thoughtspeed, and shortly thereafter Glamazon showed up, with Fast-Forward over one of the formerly armed thugs.

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"He doesn't need to sell you anything, he's just got a soft-spot for the misguided," Paige said absently, her eyes just a bit unfocused as she looked at the captured group. "Two of these were hired by Monaghan, two of them were hired by someone else, a woman, short hair, fairly attractive. They don't actually know much of anything else, but I imagine simply the fact that we got Monaghan's name from them will be enough to ensure that their time incarcerated will be unpleasant and possibly cut short." She projected the image of the woman to her family, just in case anyone knew her. "We shouldn't waste any more time here." 

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It wasn't long after that that the thugs were in the hands of Freedom City's finest - zipped there personally by the Cline family. Richard never quite got over the novelty of visiting a police station as a hero instead of as a villain, and under the circumstances managed to avoid his usual sharp tongue around law enforcement. These guys hadn't exactly hurt his feelings, but on the other hand he wouldn't be sorry to see the back of them. Lousy punk kids. Paige could tell how much he was trying to _not_ think of how old these men he'd just called kids were. "Make sure you put the head goon there in his own cell, don't want him giving anybody any ideas." 

 

As the cops took care of the thugs, he sent a thought back to the family. _I have no idea who that woman is - anything about her look familiar to you, honey?_

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Boyle and Kirkendahl were there, supervising the arrest of the men, with the head goon getting a nullifier getting slapped on him so he cannot use his abilities to escape.  During this he complained and requested medical assistance due to the injuries sustained from Thoughtspeed.

 

Boyle turned towards the Clines and Glamazon, "So... what the hell precisely did your friend get himself into?"  The question was pointed, and the grumpiness was in part because their car had been crunched by the enthusiastic Glamazon, he flipped open his notepad.  "It looks like Monaghan is in town at the moment, we're sending some uniformed people to pick him up ri-"

 

"That wont be necessary Detective."  Came a firm, female voice from the entrance to the room.  A woman in a dark, off the rack pantsuit came in flanked by two other men, wearing similar style suits, and had counterpointed humorless expressions to the small, slightly genial smile on her face.  "As you can imagine, well some of you might imagine, we do hold a measure of interest with the Mr. Silvestri... and also the recent activities of Mr. Monaghan.  He bolted from his apartment twenty minutes."

 

In response to the interruption Boyle, and even the more mild mannered Kirkendahl were glaring at the federal agent, making no attempt to hide their reaction.

 

"However, we believe we have him, and his associated tracked," Nameth continued, "He is heading towards towards the Theater District, to a the Lim Gallery there, near the Beaudrie.  Happy hunting."  With that she turned and walked back towards the men who followed after her as she left the office."

Edited by TheAbsurdist
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"I do not like that woman."  Thaelia stated as Nameth was leaving.  Not referring to the mercenary she had no information on, but on the agent.  "Elias surrounds himself with troublesome women."  Still the Atlantean demigoddess smiled for a moment.  The revelation that this wasn't some sort of secretive plot by Elias father to kidnap him like the young man's mother all but warned Thaelia would be a risk one day.

 

Actually, if she had to take a guess.  Errant had charged in on something dangerous on his own.  Which while worrisome, was at least par for the course for his behavior.  Which was its own relief, giving  a sense that he wasn't actually in as much danger as he could have.  "Oh!  But, we need to purchase tickets on the computer box if we wish to watch a production."

 

Missing the forest for the trees, let alone skimping over how many buildings she had broken through in her career as a heroine.

 

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Thoughtspeed's body language had gone very still when the lady, who was apparently a Federal agent of some kind, mentioned having an "interest" in Elias. Beyond the general unease at the idea of them following his friend so closely, Will knew Elias had some...concerns...about outside parties trying to keep tabs on him, and the more folks who knew what he might be up to, the worse that situation could, would, get. 

 

Thankfully, she didn't stick around, and she had given them some useful information. A lead! And then Thaelia tossed a sea-monkey wrench in the mood. Thoughtspeed sighed.

 

"I think they're going to an art gallery or something, not a movie theater. And we're going there on hero business, no tickets needed."

 

He glanced toward his parents.

 

"Right?"

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Elias had voiced concerns regarding his status, it was an open secret in School, and hadn't really been touched, as his interaction with his friends and semi-family had been... less.  It wasn't hard to imagine that he was dealing with that, or possibly Agent Nameth as well.

 

With her gone the two STAR Detectives were looking at each other, and then them.  It was Boyle who spoke up first, "We're still going through our motions.  I don't want her to be right, but if you find your friend then that's what matters."  He smirked a little bit and then he shrugged, as he pulled up his radio then, to talk to the units en route to the apartment.

 

Once they were on their way there, the Lim Galley was in a brickwork building, it's face looking somewhat like a trendy storefront, a block down from the Beaudrie.  The front lights off, but some perhaps in the back, as it was currently showing some modern abstract deconstructions of traditional pottery work.

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