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Up until this point, things had been relatively non-lethal as chases go, but when searing hot pain flared to life in Maxie's shoulder he knew things had taken a turn for the deadly.  He looked down surprised to find a knife embedded just below his clavicle, it took so much of his attention that he almost slipped on the sudden ice as well but managed to keep his balance.

 

"Sonuva- you threw a knife at me?!  You basically long distance stabbed me!  I don't think I want to take you on any dates anymore!  Hope that was worth losing all this,"  Max said gesturing to himself.

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GM

 

"I think you got my point!" quipped Flare right back at Spitfire. 

 

Outside, it started snowing. 

 

Sort of. 

 

A woman swooped in, dressed in a blue and white spandex number, her cape the shape of wings upon which she glided. Impressive technology, if indeed it was technology and not some magical animation. It looked rather pretty. 

 

As she landed, snowflakes cascaded from her body into the sky and slowly started falling. They were very pretty too. And made it hard for the Bird of Arms to see more than a dozen feet in front of him. 

 

"Gosh darn it. I'm always pulling your ass out of the fire...Snowbird to the rescue, once danging more!" she drawled as she landed. 

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Jann kept to the air as the backup approached. She was fast, there was no reason for him to intercept her and risk anything, he could go for something more safe. So he waited, and bid his time. All the while observing her, of course. She too had wings, but they were not like his. They were not gifts of the Star-Gods. And all the while, she could interact with the snow.

 

 

He didn’t mind the snow. Where he lived, it was not rare, and he’d done all kinds of things in snow. But he knew it made the situation more complicated, as much as he did like the sensation of snow while flying. So it was best to put a stop to it quickly. His hand wandered towards the sheath on his back, and he dropped from the sky, ready to unsheathe. He only needed to know her rough position. And then he struck.

 

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GM

 

"My Sweet Lord! What the dang are you? An angel?" gasped Snowbird as the Bird of Arms swept down and gave her a good clobber. She seemed perfectly happy in the snow, and seeing through it. 

 

She spun a 360 in the air from the blow and landed, ungainly, on her feet, wobbling to the left, then wobbling to the right. 

 

"Those wings are darn pretty in the snow!" she mumbled, her blonde hair long and ruffled and she shook her head trying to clear it. 

 

"But I gotta clip them, angel. I got my partner in arms to rescue! I guess it would be from those feathers of yours!" she said, trying to piece her scattered cortex back into place. "I gotta admit you got a helluva left hook! Felt like Billy Frogface with a sledgehammer back at the ranch!"

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Spitfire saw an opportunity as Flare was on her keester to hopefully put her out of the fight without more danger to the public in the form of a large commercial sized refridgerator.  Sparing no time for witty quips (or just quips in Maxie's case) he sucked in a breath and sent a line of fire into the metal legs of the large metal fridge, sending it toppling over, falling towards the already floored Flare.

 

"Cool off, darlin',"  Max smiled widely to himself, particularly proud of that one.  "See?  Cuz it's a fridge, I said cool off because fridges are cold and we both like fire."  Max then realized he ruined it by explaining it, but was still smiling, still proud of the pun.

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GM

 

Flare rolled but not quite quick enough. She caught a leg under the fridge, jammed tight.

 

"Satan's spit!" she cursed at Spitfire. "I'll stuff this fridge down your damn throat!" she said, gritting her teeth. She was not a particularly strong woman, but she strained every muscle tight, and hauled the fridge off her leg for one brief second, for one brief inch. 

 

Her leg came out and the fridge dropped with a mighty clang. 

 

Scrabbling around the kitchen surface, her greedy hands found an impressively clean and shiny kitchen knife. 

 

"Aha! Maybe this will do!" she laughed. "Its cut stab time!"

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So far, so good. The faster he could dispose of this enemy, the faster he could provide backup of his own. It meant that he had to switch up his tactics somewhat. Straight-up attacks were good, but they took some time to get somebody incapacitated. There were, however, quicker ways of doing it.  

 

Jann did not reply to his enemy’s speaking. He was not one to speak while fighting. Instead, he carefully adjusted his position ever so slightly, adjusting for the snow and wind. Then, in one slow motion, he levelled out his sword, holding it ready to strike. It was blunt, due to some complains he’d gotten from the Academy’s staff, but it felt more natural than using no weapon at all. He could feel the adrenaline now, his fatigue had all but disappeared. Or, at the very least, it felt that way. Until he was about to strike and his arm just tensed up, one of the nasty kicks from earlier that night flaring up again and making him unable to execute his swing properly.

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GM

 

Snowbird took a few steps back, her head clearing. She was just fast enough, just clever enough, to move her body a couple of inches from the swing. 

 

She stumbled just slightly, the snow around her blue boots scattering. But she then moved to a more defensive, agile, and ready posture. 

 

"Woah! You are quick, angel. Quicker than me. Maybe quicker than my buddy in there. I can see why she was in trouble. Not much gets Flare rattled, I can tell you that. Nerves of ice" she exclaimed. 

 

Snowbird was one for babbling, that was for sure. Whatever the two gun runners were up to, it was clear that Flare was the face. Snowbird would likely dribble out all secrets in a flash. 

 

 

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Seeing yet another blade in Flare's hand irritated Max.  He didn't want to end the night looking like a pin cushion so he decided it was time to get a bit more aggressive.  Moving in, he brought up his hand covered in the molten metal of the bike, now cooled he let loose with a wild haymaker meant for Flare's abdomen.  There was no finesse to the attack, no graceful art with which Max had shown earlier in moving.  This wasn't his area of expertise, and so his clumsiness showed.  He had to hope that the metal covered fist connected, because he felt himself fading fast.  Still he thought he was doing rather well for being blown up a few short hours ago.

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GM

 

Flare ducked under the blow, with a laugh. 

 

"Anyone would think you have been blown up today!" she spiked her words carefully. But more spikey still was the knife she thrust into Spitfire, a nasty little twist with all her body weight behind it. 

 

"Had enough of my cutting wit?" she demanded. 

 

And outside...

 

Snowbird pulled out her gun. It was a fancy chrome number, with a nifty plastic handle. It looked rather high - tech. Not a conventional firearm. 

 

Any visual clues to its nature were soon redundant: for when she fired, a stream of icy shards flew out like a machine gun. Just clumsy - for she tottered backwards a few steps, her balance still off, and the sky was lit with yet more frosty beauty as the ice shot off into the stars. 

 

 

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She was not particularly fast with her draw. Not compared to some people Jann had fought before. Not compared to some he’d seen fight. So by the time she’d pulled it, he was already prepared to dodge. Even if it turned out that he only needed to sidestep, her natural aim was already off target.

 

Either way, this gave Jann a chance to attack again. He’d discovered a new limit of his body, his arm would not be of much use. But she hadn’t realized that yet. He took a wide swing, with some wind-up, moving his arms in what capacity was still possible. It was an obvious attack, and a slow one at that.

 

But that was what he was counting on. She could dodge, or block. Either way, he would have enough momentum to carry through, spin around, and turn it into a proper high-kick. And that one she wouldn’t be able to just ignore…

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Max sucked in a breath at the stinging bite of the knife and anger flared to life in his belly.  He knew that he would start feeling those cuts shortly but for now the pain had been burned away in a haze of red rage.  

 

"First floor lobby," Spitfire growled, "Second floor, nick nacks, lingerie, and hopefully for you a first aid station!"  With that Spitfire threw a wild uppercut with his metal hand that landed squarely on Flare's jaw.

 

Max at this point was panting, and saw blood trickling down his side, staining his pant leg and pooling at his feet to be frozen by the liquid nitrogen still cooling the floor.  "That's less than ideal..." Max noted, a slight bit of panic in his voice.

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GM

 

Flare clunked to one side and stumbled halfway across the kitchen. If the nitrogen was not freezing her boots to the floor she would have keeled over. As it is she stumbled straight into a rack of pans and pots, and ended up wearing a colander on her head in the style of a drunken Pastafarian. 

 

"Bluh...that all youbl gotttsh?" she mumbled, barely coherent. Her face was already swelling from the blow. She waved her knife around ineffectually, her brains not quite caught up with the action, on account of them dancing around the inside of her skull. 

 

And outside...

 

Snowbird spent a second studying her agile and skilled opponent. She noticed him weave, and went to kick him...

 

...and instead fired a beam of freezing white light from her gun, ready to encase the winged hero in a block of ice cold ice!

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She proved to be a formidable opponent. She could certainly take a hit, and even now she was still conscious enough to figure out ways of deception. It was a well-execute manoeuvre, that much Jann had to admit. But, at the last moment, she told of her true intention. A slight twitch in her trigger finger, and her not fully committing to her kick. And even then, she was late in her tell, so Jann could only just barely crouch downwards and dodge the shot.

 

Clearly, his current course of action wasn’t working. She could take some punishment, while he couldn’t. He’d have to continue to whittle her down while attempting to dodge her attacks, or he could attempt something more risky, but potentially more effective, and close the remaining distance. From his current position, almost on all fours, that seemed doable.

 

In one swift motion he rose upwards, batting away his opponent’s arm, and grabbing onto her shoulder. Perhaps he could work her from here, if his body let him continue for long enough…

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GM

 

Snowbird was slight of frame, a gangly woman. But she was a lot stronger than she looked. 

 

lot stronger. No human could possibly that strong. She was stronger than bird of arms. Snowbird might have been her name, but her muscles burned with inhuman power. As strong as an ox, she was!

 

"Haha! All those muscles and you can't even pin me down!" she laughed as she shoved him away with frightening strength. "Even lil' old me got ya beat, angel!" she said with a gay little laugh. One could almost imagine she did a little tap dance in the snow as she mocked him. 

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Spitfire grimaced as he yanked the knife out of his shoulder.  "You know this is the worst first date I've ever been on!  I've only almost bled out on a date once before, and then at least tequila was involved!"

 

Charging forward, Max saw his target and brought his metal fist down on the collander with all the might his blood loss weary muscles could muster.  A loud clang echoed off the walls and in his ears, he felt the vibrations reverberate up his arm and aggravate the knife wound he took to the shoulder.  Max turned in a circle, stamping and cursing, fighting the urge to shake his stinging fist.  He felt the blow even beneath the metal.

 

"Son of a beach towel that stings!  Remind me not to punch people with the arm I got stabbed in!"

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GM

 

"I flughdee Murghfrup..." muttered Flare as she slumped to her knees. Her head slowly slid downwards, chin to sternum. She was out cold. She had a few jerks of her arm. "Ibrm Stab! blubghjrr..." she mumbled, before the fingers went limp and the knife clattered to the floor. 

 

Impressively, she had passed out cold against the wall, slumped in a kneeling position that almost looked grateful. 

 

"Ooh you are a pesky 'lil devil! Fast, too. Like a mouse!" proclaimed Snowbird outside. She turned a dial on her ice gun, and let rip a massive stream of ice that kicked back the gun. She was unable to control the weapon outside its safety settings, and the ice spewed this way, then that. 

 

It sparked slightly. There was a vague smell of ozone. 

 

"Gosh darn it!" swore Snowbird, before giving the Bird of Arms a salute and dashing in, with mighty hops of several feet, into the Casino to see the carnage of ice and fire therein...

Edited by Supercape
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She was not wrong in what she claimed. No matter what people Jann could defeat, he did not have much experience fighting proper, powered fighters. And whenever he did, it was a challenge. Of course, this time it didn’t help he was already fairly injured and unable to act the way he usually would’ve. But it also meant that he should’ve had a contingency plan ready. And he did not.

 

She ran right by him as he was recovering from dodging the blast. He’d stumbled ever so slightly, his body getting too heavy to properly handle his movement. And the only thing he could do was to follow her, and to announce her appearance to his ally on the inside.

 

Incoming!”

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Max heard the shout from Jann and whipped his head around to see the lady with the sparking cold gun run through the doors.  He had wondered where the avian had gone off to, and now he saw that he'd been pre-occupied with the back up he had heard through Flare's cell.

 

Max grinned to himself, confident that finding two people immune to fire in the same night was unlikely and let all the anger and pain out in a rapid succession of zipping red fire balls at the Snowbird.

 

"I didn't invite you to this shindig darlin'!  I suggest you hot foot it out of here!"  Max punned triumphantly.

 

The fireballs all hit the Snowbird about the midesction and shoulders, sending her first flying off her feet, then skidding across the floor to come to rest against the concierge table.

 

"Oh busboy!  Take care of this old bag will ya?"  Max walked up to the Snowbird then leaned down to get his face inches away from hers. Max kept the fire roiling in his mouth so flames licked his lips with each word.

 

"Now yer gonna tell me all about these high tech weapons, and these cheese-headed gangsters and their leader, or I'm going to show you that I don't need a bucket of water to melt a witch like you."

Edited by EviscerusNox
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GM

 

Snowbird sighed, singed and smoking. Her pretty cape was ruined. 

 

"You frizzed my hair!" she complained weekly, sprawled on the floor. She was about to spit out a witty snark, but thought better of it with the two heroes in the Casino over her, and she in no position to muster any fight. 

 

She sighed deeply. 

 

"We are just trying to make a living. I have...problems..." she said enigmatically. "I need treatment. Chemicals, drugs. Stuff you can't just buy. Flare is my friend, and she had the contacts. We sell guns, weapons, you know..." she whispered, almost shyly. 

 

"As for the guy we sold too...or at least tried to. They call him the Happy Man. The gangs here, the worship him. Say he gives them 'the Buzz', better than the best crack cocaine, they say. Once he hits them, they will do anything for another buzz" she explained earnestly. She even shuddered. 

 

"Look, you may not believe it, but I am a doctor and biochemist myself. I seen plenty of things. But I ain't ever seen anything like the Buzz the Happy Man delivers...."

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Max wasn't without sympathy.  Hearing the woman talk about needing drugs pained him, but he didn't feel bad for taking her down.  Her problems may have put her in a bad position, but there were other ways than turning to crime to deal with them.  Max had learned that the hard way himself.  At the mention of Flare Max turned his head to look at Jann.

 

"Think you could go tie up our other guest and bring her over here? I don't want her waking up and running off on us."  Max wished he knew some of the science type heroes running around Freedom but the only one he knew of was Doktor Archeville and he had met him only in passing during some sort of demon attack years ago before he left.  He didn't exactly have his number.  His friend Asad might have a contact or two though.

 

"Listen here lady, what yer doin' is wrong, and yer gonna have to pay for it.  That bein' said, I may have some contacts that could help you with this... chemical problem.  I take it that you aren't talking about drugs?  If so there's plenty of ways to help that.  But if yer talking about some weird science mumbo jumbo.  I might know a guy.  First though, can you tell me where this Happy Man is?  How many men he has with him?  Any intel at all.  If me and Tweety are gonna take him down, we need info.  Plus I doubt he'd be very pleased with either of you for having both botched a sale and failing to get rid of us.  Looks to me like you need our protection from this."

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GM

 

Snowbird had fight in her head, but not in her body, and was smart enough to know it. "Hell no, I ain't going to Blackstone!" she answered. "I want to cut a deal. In writing. Immunity to prosecution, blah blah blah" she said, yapping with her hand. 

 

"The only person I won'r rat on is Flare. Other than that, well, I'd prefer to lose my reputation than my liberty" she explained, thoughtfully. 

 

"All I did was sell a few high tech weapons. Look, I can hook you up yourself, if you want. I got Hypervolt tasers, Silent explosives, Thermal lances, or Clown carbines. Whatever you want. You are a superhero, right? Don't you want a cutting edge utility belt? Plus, i can slip you all the tip offs you want about gun running in the future. Deal?"

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As Jann made his way into the room the main issue seemed to already have resolved itself. A good thing, all things considered. And while his ally was interrogating, he could go and do what he’d suggested, and carry the smuggler there too.

 

He nodded, and walked towards where Spitfire had indicated, his steps a lot slower than even before. The night was not yet over, and Jann had to preserve what strength remained. And carrying a person would only further sap it. He didn’t have any tools on him, and while kitchens were great for all sorts of tools, experience told him he would not find anything to restrain her quickly.

 

So instead he just grabbed her, attempting to hoist her over his shoulders and then walk back.

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Max chucked shaking his head.  "Lady I breath fire.  I don't need a utility belt.  As far as making a deal, that you'll have to do with the police when they arrive.  I do promise however if you give me all the information you have to put in a good word with the police on my behalf, appear in court as a witness to your cooperation, whatever it takes.  Now this "buzz" thing Happy Man hits people with, since your a biochemist I assume you've figured out how it works right?  Is it chemical?  What's the delivery system?  Is there a way to counteract the effects?  That sorta thing."

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GM

 

"A good word? A good word? pfah!"

 

Snowbird lay down, eyes upwards to the ceiling, and sighed. "I guess its Blackstone for me. Probably a slow painful death. Government can't afford to keep me alive. Hell, I can barely afford to keep me alive, and I run guns" she said. "So I think Ill put it 'it was all the fault of that guy who breathed fire' on my gravestone. How do you think that would look?" she asked Spitfire. 

 

"As for the Happy Man's buzz, damned if I know how he does it. I guess its NMDA or catecholamine recpetors. Maybe some opiate ones too. But how he delivers it? I don't know. It just goes off in their heads like all their Christmases had come at once. Well, all the good ones, anyway" she added. 

 

"But he scares me" she said seriously. "I mean, the hit...more than a few of those and people fall into a dribbling wreck. Never see anything like it. Its the last thing you want to feel, until you feel it, and then you don't want to feel anything else..."

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