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Fandom Blüdhaven

@Hell-Jumper


The Amazon looked surprised at the secret door.  Again, she makes a point of studying the button and anything around it, plainly trying to learn this world and its technologies.  Then she followed the Question into the safehouse.  Question found plenty of clothes for incognito work, including a decent selection for tall women like Scyleia.  She accepted the hoodies, sweatpants and shoes with an obvious grimace.  "Don't take this the wrong way," she said, wrinkling her nose slightly.  "It's not like I enjoy dressing for the male gaze.  But I hope to Hera no one I know sees me wearing this."


She returned a few minutes later.  Remarkably, she had already done a little something about that 'glow'; Scyleia was wearing makeup.  It wasn't especially polished, perhaps deliberately.  But now she looked like a woman wearing makeup, rather than a woman made in the image of the Goddesses.  


"Let's go find this Alvarez of yours.  If this man Drake Swift spent much time in Bludhaven, surely someone will have met the man.  Particularly if he's...friendly with the opposite sex.  Men like that tend to get around in several ways."  Scyleia's eyes watched the Question carefully, still scrutinizing him to see how easily he moved, if he was physically up for continuing the assignment without rest.


The Question's datapad (and his own formidable memory and experience) told him Alvarez was likely catching dinner at the Smiths Diner over on Railway just north of Halyard Street.  He was known to shoot the breeze with a few friends and 'associates' there, treating his booth like his own personal office when it came to selling leads, information or setting up deals for merchandise.  Odds are, that's where he'll be.








@sitanomoto


It's heading into evening time for Bludhaven.  In a healthy city, the streets would be packed with traffic filled with commuters and business people leaving work to head to their suburban homes or high-story rises.  And there were some of those cars on the road.  More people walked, though, and the precious handful of city buses in service seemed chronically full and chronically late.  Not a lot of suits and ties, or dresses for that matter in sight.  Bludhaven had tried to restart its economy some years ago but it hadn't taken.  Instead, the average person the street looked like someone crawling home from a long day of poorly-paid service sector work or unappreciated, labor-intensive manufacturing.  


The Golden Cobra stood out.  It didn't fit the city aesthetic.  The exterior was new(ish), shiny with faux-gold panels and an attractive spread of lights already drawing the eye as the sun headed home in the sky.  This time of day was staging time.  People would be finishing their commute, their dinners and their obligations now and in the next hour.  Soon, the Golden Cobra would be packed to the rafters with people looking for a good time.  Which meant the people intending on selling that crowd a good time were mostly inside, probably finishing a meal themselves and getting ready to solicit, attract and exploit fresh meat as they arrived.  


It was the perfect time to find some people who deserved a pounding.




@ShadowBroker


It's the end of a workday.  While Huge's schedule likely varies depending on who's hired him to do what and when, today wasn't bad.  The wiring in a whole wall had gone bad at 17 Phraim Moore Housing Projects and, the projects being the projects, no one responsible could give a damn.  A friend of someone you'd done work for in the past had connected the dozen families affected to the big man who was good with his hands.  It'd taken...well, pretty much the whole work day and it wouldn't hurt to doublecheck the work tomorrow.  But tonight, 42 people would have power that wouldn't have it otherwise.  These people didn't have much, but between them Huge had come away with a nice pocketful.  Enough for a nice meal, some entertainment, or maybe treating some kids looking up to him.  


As he walked down Railway, just north of Halyard Street, he spotted some familiar jackets.  Devil Tigers, four of them, heading into Smiths Diner.  Could be innocent.  ...Probably wasn't, given his brushes with this gang in the past.
 
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"Interesting." he mumbled like a numbed shadow. Huge was nothing near a plotter but he manage to recognize the Devil Tigers entering The Smiths Diner, and something about it didn't feel nice. Something on the air, maybe just a hunch. When Huge's words had been frozen on the air, he already began to move forward; tired steps, not even close to be prepare for a fight although he wouldn't go in unready just like that.


At any case, Huge began to think what would be better. He didn't have proof something bad was going to happen and that seemed what most motivated him, but what if these thugs commit a crime he wouldn't witness? So many probabilities, numbers and variables, calculations going through his mind as his eyes stared down the place. A good memory gave him a better approach.


Huge texted Francis, Lt. Eliot, trying to gain some backup support if something went badly wrong, "Railway, Smiths Diner. Four Devil Tigers, investigating." his eyes shifted to all directions as he finished his message, worry about who saw him before entering or even plan to do something. Whatever happens now, he knew it was for the best of the community. He attempted to reach for a window or something that gave him a quick idea of what could be awaiting for him before reach the door.


@Epiphany 
 
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Question glanced over at her as she made a face at the clothes. "You saw me dig through a trash can not two hours ago, I think you can manage to lower yourself from godess status for a while", he told her, before changing out of his tailored suit. Once he was dressed down, the man pulled a can from his coat and sprayed it against his face, or lacktherof. The flat, skin colored mask practically fell off once it reacted with the glass.


 


Question noticed that he had a bruise across his cheek, a split lip, and quite a few small cuts around his eyes and nose. He walked over to the medical bag and dug through it until he found gauze, alcohol, and the improved Pseudoderm bandages, ones that didn't kill you if you pressed them to an open wound. He cleaned his injuries and applied the bandages where the cuts and bruises were noticeable. He then took a second can from his coat and sprayed it around his head. Aside from the noticeably changing hus hair change from black to blond, the gas also acted as an adhesive, keeping the Pseudoderm from falling off.


 


 Scyleia spoke again and Question looked over. He chuckled at her statement. "Please, Drake is far from a ladies man. He likes to think he is, but don't let what he might say or what his file might say, he is the opposite of suave", he replied, "Alvarez has a habit of going to Smith's Diner, especially when he's dealing with business. If there's anywhere he'll be, it's there."
 
@Hell-Jumper


Scyleia made another face at the Question as he pointed out he'd done worse than these clothes.  She didn't say anything back, though.  Instead, she studied his process for removing his 'face', bandaging himself up and reapplying the 'disguise'.  The speed in which he changed his hair color was especially interesting.  


"Most men aren't as good with women as they think they are," the Amazon observed, responding to the Question's remarks.  "Most don't realize it, or notice the lack in other men.  Still, a man who enjoys the company of women is a man who interacts with others, however poorly.  Those interactions may be memorable enough for others to remember.  Perhaps your Alvarez can provide the lead we need."


Her expression was calm, intent and serious.  The hoodie and sweatpants make it almost impossible to take the tall woman seriously, however.  She gestured towards the way they'd entered the safehouse and tilted her head in invitation.  "If you won't rest, shall we?"




@ShadowBroker


If the Devil Tigers noticed the big man moving in on the diner, they gave no sign of it.  There was back slapping, large boisterous voices and the kind of manic energy in the men usually seen on those high on one of a few select drugs.  Energy consumed calories, though, and though some drugs masked hunger, the human body still needed fuel to eat.  These four gang members took a booth inside, demanding menus.  There was something in the way one of them kept watching the entrance, though.  Were they waiting for someone?  Expecting someone?  Or planning something and wanting to know if there were witnesses?  


The Devil Tigers were as bad as they came.  Not especially murderous compared to some gangs in Bludhaven but well known for drug and sex trafficking.  


I'm in the Spine, by Reynolds street next to the Green Line.  I'll be there but it'll be a bit.  Watch them and text me back if you want me to send a car in for backup.  


Francis' text back was a welcome buzz of the phone.  The implicit cooperation of Bludhaven's police made it a lot easier to step in if the Devil Tigers got up to something.  Huge had gotten away with a lot in the past.  Tonight would probably be no different.  Except these men didn't look like they planned to start anything this second.  Maybe they were waiting for someone after all.  


Smiths Diner had windows for its outer wall, making surveillance simple...though it also made the person doing the surveying pretty obvious.  There were cars, telephone poles, an alley and other store fronts where one could try to hide but long-term watching of the diner carried the risk someone inside would eventually notice.  Right now, there was a good sized dinner crowd, mostly locals and a few factory workers stopping by for a meal before heading home to the cramped studio apartments or four bedroom flats occupied by four to eight people.  No one had it easy.  Not in this part of town.  
 
He, who wouldn't go in without register all those inside the room would as well not allow that something beyond his reach escapes now that the streets are quiet. Eyes shifting to every direction, not only watching those who have come here, the distance between the door to the table, the amount of furniture that could be use as cover, the amount of lights, the possibilities. Thanks to Francis text; even if he hasn't check it yet, Huge now felt capable to overcome this progressive danger, a time bomb. He has seen it happen before and since.


But then, Huge whose empathy has always been a very difficult chemistry to find, saw desperation in these men's eyes. The paranoia defect that twist someone's perception. Their body language suggested the obvious although for him it was a mystery that slowly resolved. "Too much attention to the main door, can't pass. Someone will arrive, I must hide." he mumbled like a plotter though clumsy. Maybe I can hide on the alley, they will take me as a beggar. he suggested on his mind as he moved away from the window and sat down laying his back against the cold wall. He released a long persisting sigh, tired eyes aimlessly to the entrance waiting for the last asset as he also kept a sharp ear to any possible violent activity.


He finally took his phone to answer back, yet what to say? He has yet to come with a conclusion to what to do next. Only once the last of them has finally come, only then Huge would be ready to do something about it. What if there is nothing wrong with it? What if they are just there to enjoy what last of the full night and astonishing stars? Questions riddled out of his mind for deep inside him, he could not recognize human kindness if not by those who are already gone from the universe. 


@Epiphany
 
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It's heading into evening time for Bludhaven.  In a healthy city, the streets would be packed with traffic filled with commuters and business people leaving work to head to their suburban homes or high-story rises.  And there were some of those cars on the road.  More people walked, though, and the precious handful of city buses in service seemed chronically full and chronically late.  Not a lot of suits and ties, or dresses for that matter in sight.  Bludhaven had tried to restart its economy some years ago but it hadn't taken.  Instead, the average person the street looked like someone crawling home from a long day of poorly-paid service sector work or unappreciated, labor-intensive manufacturing.  


The Golden Cobra stood out.  It didn't fit the city aesthetic.  The exterior was new(ish), shiny with faux-gold panels and an attractive spread of lights already drawing the eye as the sun headed home in the sky.  This time of day was staging time.  People would be finishing their commute, their dinners and their obligations now and in the next hour.  Soon, the Golden Cobra would be packed to the rafters with people looking for a good time.  Which meant the people intending on selling that crowd a good time were mostly inside, probably finishing a meal themselves and getting ready to solicit, attract and exploit fresh meat as they arrived.  


It was the perfect time to find some people who deserved a pounding.


 

Jess felt herself stumble and then regained her footing, carefully keeping her gaze on the sidewalk in front of her. The hood of her black sweatshirt was pulled up so it was low over her bright blue eyes, her hands in its pockets, making sure to look like the kind of degenerate that would frequent the Golden Cobra. She had a beating on her mind tonight, and even slightly tipsy she was a formidable opponent. If Nightwing couldn't do anything about the current state of events, Jessica Grayson, butt-kicker sure as all hell could. 


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Lucas Romero, infamous drug lord, yawned as he finished his steak (medium rare), his pristine white  fangs glinting in the dim light of his red velvet room above the Golden Cobra. He stood, stretching as his yellow eyes scanned the room. 


"Sssssilas, my friend, go open the doors please. It's time to get rolling." He said, and the bulky brute who stood in the doorway nodded solemnly and left without a word. Lucas put his scaled hand on the table he was sitting at previously, long and  nimble fingers drumming on the dark wood. His other hand went to a secret drawer under the edge of the table and he fingered the small, almost undetectable knob. He grinned and laughed a little, a chuckle really, as he thought about what the night was to hold.
 

The man nodded, although his body groaned for him to lie down, give in. "Off we go then", he replied and left the safe house, closing the ramp immediately after they both had left. Without any further words, he began the walk to Smith's diner. Inside, he could see four men in similar get-up, Devil Tigers if his memory was up to par on Blüdhaven's gangland outfits. He could also see the absolute beast of a man inside, however if he was intimidated or surprised, he didn't show it.


 


Alvarez wasn't there. Why wasn't he there? He should be there. Were they set up? Was he wrong? Was his intel off? Maybe he's late. You know better than that. Maybe... The now blonde man entered the diner and ducked into on of the corner booths and picked up a menu, appearing to be looking at it because, in fact, he was. 
 
@Hell-Jumper


Scyleia fell into step beside, and just slightly behind, the Question.  It was a somewhat martial positioning, as if he had a warrior or bodyguard at his service.  The effect was ruined by the oversized hoodie and sweatpants.  


It's a good, brisk walk.  The dinner crowd is still out and by the time the pair of you reach Smith's Diner, the place is pretty packed.  Including those four Devil-Tigers.  The logo on the back of their jackets was unmistakable even if the men wearing them weren't.  Sure enough, no sign of Alvarez.  But even with the diner as packed as it was, a telltale booth is left empty.  A man like Alvarez makes his living being findable.  He'll be here, sooner or later.  


Meanwhile the menu showed a good if uninspired spread.  There's the distinct possibility that this menu could have been swiped from one of a hundred diners in Bludhaven and no one would know the difference.  The enthusiasm of the various diners, all coming off of a hard day's unprofitable labor, suggested it was tasty at least.  Scyleia's expression almost made up for slumming it here; she's even less than impressed.  





@ShadowBroker


Smith's Diner held a lot of possibility for battle.  There were a lot of bystanders, customers and diners filling up most of the booths.  But there were a lot of booths, most of them chest high on the average man's chest.  The bar counter on the far wall looked sturdy, maybe solid enough to stop bullets.  As for the lighting, the place was very well lit but from twin banks of fluorescent lights.  Two good blows could shut down all lights in the whole place.  Even without backup, there's a lot of cover.  Assuming a man Huge's side could get in and get close without drawing the attention of four gang members who seem hyped up on something.  


The wall in the alley was easy enough to take.  Dressed down, Huge hardly stood out in a city all too used to poverty.  


When the man without a face walked by, accompanied by a tall woman in sloppy clothes that didn't suit her, it seemed like the Devil Tigers might have something to react to after all.  But they chose to ignore him, after giving the man with no face a hard look.  




@Hell-Jumper @ShadowBroker


Another man in a hoodie approached Smith's Diner, hands in his pockets, sunglasses across his face and decorative stubble neatly buzzed the same length as his hair.  The Devil Tiger keeping an eye out on the front door straightened in his booth and immediately waved the man over before he'd even entered the building.  Hoodie-man spread his hands slightly and gave the men a charming smile, his body language suggesting he was perfectly harmless.  


His eyes went wide when two of the Devil Tigers abruptly jumped him, right in the middle of the diner.  Each grabbed one arm and forced him back against a booth, knocking dishes across the laps of three construction workers.  One look and the workers thought better of intervening.  The third and fourth gang members peeled themselves away from their booth and joined their companions.  One of them spoke up, his voice carrying clearly across the diner.  "You deal with Snake Boi, Alvarez, you dealing with Black Dog's boys."


"Gentlemen, no es nada," said Alvarez, not looking the least bit concerned.  "But you boys might want to rethink this.  Black Dog's shadows aren't as long as they were.  And Snake Boi's bite?"  He winced with affected amusement.  "Just as deadly as ever.  Now, what do you say we sit down and do business, eh?  Qué bueno?"


There's no reaction at first.  


Then one of them pulls a gun.
 
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@Epiphany @Hell-Jumper


Huge could not fail to feel odd over the new arrivals. He began to describe them in his mind as some words came as simple whispers echoing his mind; "Black jacket, modern hair-cut. Bright eyes. He saw me. Head slightly down, quiet." his eyes shifted rapidly towards the woman, time around him was slightly slower although it was something of perspective, being the mind so quicker than the events happening around him, "Pale skin." he focused on her face but then to the figure itself draw his attention, "Leather jacket, serious, thick. Odd figure, no flaws. Cold." once the two of them got in the Smith's diner without exchange of words as Huge suspected. As far as he knew, the two did not look like anything related to the four gentlemen inside; probably just a couple trying to pass a good time together. However the psychological wall between the two discarded that idea, maybe it was just his impression but the two seem oddly related as well.


Another customer was arriving before Huge came with any conclusions, his mind speeding up once more as he raised his sight towards the new comer, "Hooded, male. Hands in pockets, hiding. sunglasses, no identity." Huge then nodded for himself and said, "Jackpot." he stood up and watched from the window just right after the man entered the place. For his surprise, the man who entered was, indeed, the one the thugs have been waiting for. He looked down and started to text the Lt. Francis would be here soon enough to take what he left behind. "Send backup to my current location." without any more explanations, none needed. But then...


He glanced back inside the room and saw a gun, metal device that seemed to shine stronger every moment. His left hand started to lose strength, he was about to let the phone fall at the ground as he fought his way back for control. Was it fear? Huge was more than just scared or horrified, he was away. He was no longer staring at the thug's weapon but the past. Events shattering his reality, stopping his heart beating. A powerless feeling started to spread like a decease. His hand tighten up just before he managed to walk away from the memory and the screams. When he drove his attention to his left hand, holding the phone, he saw his skin becoming metal-like as it slowly fade away back to his finger tips. Once he controlled his breath, he found no other choice but to deal with this threat, regardless.


He put up a mask, a piece of cloth. Enough to cover his face and avoid any toxic gas to interrupt him from breathing; as he reached for a smoke grenade and a lantern that turns off and on intermittently, both from his utility belt. He began to count the seconds it would take for him to cross the room and reach the gun wilder first. "Take out the one holding the gun, next the one holding the hooded suspect. He will offer aiding fighting back. Then, focus on the last one... use their own table as cover once the smoke is off." the probability of failure was moderate, but worse was doing nothing.


The grenade entered the room through the window at high speed and explode the moment it touch the ground, as if it was calculated how much time would take to react. The top was gone letting the smoke go out while the lantern attached to it generated a mayor distraction though not as much as the sound of the window breaking apart. Once off, Huge opened the door and tried to craw at the beginning, hoping to dodge anyone's attention at first, then dashed forward to meet the gun wilder.
 

Question stared back at the large man from the corner of his eye. What are you thinking guy? He spoke into a phone then in turn surveyed Sycleia and spoke again. The man cocked his head curiously. One of Waller's men curiously implemented to check on his progress? One of Alvarez's spies. He leaned over to Sycleia and whispered, "Whatever I just said is for some reason absolutely hysterical to you.


 


A man in a hooded jacket and glasses very obviously trying to hide his identity walked into the diner. "I'd bet my favorite tie that's Alvarez", he muttered under his breath. This was confirmed by the Devil Tiger's words and his response. He made no move to get up, even when he was slammed down onto the table. He did however reach into his jacket pockets and wrap his fingers around the grip of his own sidearm as one of the gangsters drew a pistol.


 


As the other man pulled something from below the table and threw it on the ground smoke erupted outwards, he shot to his feet, quickly applying his pseudoderm mask and emptying the small canister to adhere it over his festures and return his now blond hair to it's original black. He made no move on the larger man but did fire the gun once towards the closest man, hitting him in the knee before advancing on the other three, sidearm leveled in their direction. "Give me Alvarez!",he demanded, an edge of insanity to his voice. He hoped Sycleia was at his back prepared to tackle the huge man or to help deal with four, possibly three men.
 
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@Hell-Jumper


Scyleia glanced up from her own menu and stared in mute incomprehension at Question's request to laugh.  Then she laughs.  Loudly.  Winding down, she smiled a bit bemusedly.  The black-haired woman definitely has smile lines.  Which is perhaps interesting, given how little she's smiled in their time together.  


The Amazon's smile slipped entirely once the violence broke out.  She half-rose out of her seat before shifting her eyes to the Question, doublechecking.  Clearly when she said she'd follow his lead, she meant it.  But it was equally clear this warrior-woman felt the call to battle.  Then came the smoke grenade, somehow lit with a strobic light effect.  


Chaos was total.


People screamed as men and women leaped up in their booths.  Most took cover as far from the action as they could get.  The Devil Tigers holding down Alvarez, actually all four gang members ignored it all.  Their expressions were of rapt, total concentration.  The fixed gaze, slight sheen of sweat on the skin and the frantic edge to their bodies at rest suggested a pharmaceutical component.  In this case, not one to their advantage.


The Question's bullet took the nearest thug in the knee.  He staggered, braced himself against a booth with a spare hand, and looked right at the Question as the vigilante advanced on him.  Smoke billowed in the cramped confines of Smith's Diner but not before the Question had a chance to note the gang member's reaction.  Surprise, irritation, anger. No pain.  Definitely drugs.  Definitely something to watch for, with or without a gun.  


"Give me Alvarez!"


"Hey, fuck you!" came the predictable response.


A hiss of leather suggested more guns coming out.  At which point Scyleia jumped right over Vincent, caught the light fixture and swung herself into the fray.  The Amazon vanished into the smoke as visibility went to virtually nil.  The pseudoderm mask thankfully filtered most of the annoying side effects but finding a clear firing solution in this mess would be tricky.  







@ShadowBroker


Backup was on its way.  Might even be the sound of sirens out there.  In here, though, was enough noise to block the outside world.  


The window had shattered beautifully as the smoke grenade smashed through it.  Smoke and flickering light erupted a moment later, ruining visibility.  Thankfully, Huge had the chance to fix the positions of the Devil Tigers before going in.  Mask in place, he plunged inside before the diners nearest to the door could reach the aisle and try to escape.  


A gun went off.  There's perhaps a panicked moment for Huge, that reflex of trying to tell if you've been shot.  But then one of the gang members jerked and half-fell over one of the booths.  Giving the big man a clear path to the Devil Tiger with the gun.  The barrel swung up from the prone man in the hoodie over the table, started to swing towards the oncoming Huge.  Not fast enough.  


The impact is perfect, knocking the thug right into a booth.  Although it's hard to tell in the smoke, the way both of the Devil Tiger's hands grip the arms gripping him suggest he lost the pistol in the impact.  


Someone else crashed into the group nearby, sending the two gang members holding hoodie-man flying over more booths.  In the smoke, the two of you brushed against each other and dark eyes met Huge's.  Pale skin, cold expression.  That woman.  Who was apparently a lot stronger than she looked.  






@Hell-Jumper @ShadowBroker


As the smoke thinned, the gang-member shot in the knee pulled a pistol and aimed it in the Question's direction.  No fear or doubt.


Huge had the original thug with a gun at his mercy but the two the Amazon knocked clear had pulled guns of their own.  The people nearby screamed again, frantically trying to find cover in booths that weren't meant to be hidden in and offered clear lines of sight for the serving staff...and any maniac with a gun and too little caring where it was pointed at. 


Outside came the screech of car wheels.  


This situation was far from handled.



@sitanomoto


The crowd at the Golden Cobra was light.  By the time Jessica arrived, they were just making a show of opening the doors.  The real money would be made tonight as hundreds looking for a good time found it and more at the club.  It looked classy enough for ambiance but drug dens like this didn't care what you looked like or dressed as, so long as your wallet was loaded.  


Jessica found no trouble getting in.  She received a few probing looks, mostly because she wasn't an especially known face here.  But even in this day and age, men like them looked at a pretty girl like Jessica and those assumptions didn't include fear or caution.  Especially not in that black sweatshirt.  The advantage was hers.  As was the first move.  


At the moment, the interior featured an unpopulated dance floor.  The tables draped out along the periphery were only sparsely populated, mostly by drug sellers organizing their merchandise or counting up cash on hand.  In Jessica's experience, a drug ring like this usually operated in partnership with the bar and the management, not only eliminating most sources of interference but allowing the ring to store their proceeds in the club safe.  The owner wasn't immediately visible on the floor.  But beneath the smiles and interested looks heading in Jessica's direction (she was a pretty girl after all) were strong, fit men and women.  These weren't nickel-and-dime sellers working out of pocket in dubious health.  Someone recruited most of these people and whoever they were had an eye for muscle.  
 

The response of one was, in a word, predictable. Unpredictable, however, was seeing Sycleia fly over him, swinging from the light fixture like a trapeze artist. There was a great deal going on, bystanders ran out in terror, he thought he heard police sirens outside, the large man had crashed into the first thug to pull a gun and had disarmed him.


 


He glanced at the man he had shot in the knee. Question cursed under his breath as he saw the lack of reaction to the gunshot as the smoke and strobes died down. Whatever it was they took, it obviously did wonders. Not only was he unaffected, but he also calnly leveled a pistol in his direction.


 


The faceless man didn't hesitate and fired twice more at the man, knowing he would only try to get up before turning his sidearm to the other men, who drew their own guns. "Drop it before I let you find out what's really in the afterlife", he threatened, already taking aim at the head of one and preparing the switch over to that of the other. If they rejected the chance to surrender, well he was operating on behalf of Waller, he had clearance to defend himself, especially against firearm wielding, drugged gang-bangers.
 
The previous event of the gun was enough of a torment but to actually hear the gun itself being fired switched something on his mind. Huge, on his reckless tactic to assault the thugs, found himself out of control of his own ability. His limbs, legs and arms, went metal the moment he started to fight as his mind and fear fought maybe as hard as Huge to remain under control of the real life situation.


But then the woman appears from the now fading smoke, two thugs almost flying away from her direction. Pale skin, odd expression, cold. Much alike his own but not hidden under any mask. "odd." he muttered as if his own thoughts escaped him.  But the situations was far from over, it was not the time to have a logical conclusion or rambling. As strong as she was, she didn't manage to seize control and now the aimlessly shooters will fire at anything that moves.


On his head, time moved once more slower. The ideas were now less clear and more fragile. His thoughts couldn't see through the conclusion of his plans, only the available moves. He remembered the flash-bang training he had from the Lt. yet it would overwhelm the people around him, even his possible allies. "Not allies, not yet. Focus." more ideas came, useless. But now his perception cleared his way to a table, perfect located on his direction to the two thugs. His idea became clear and the possibility of collateral damage is reduced. Or at least that he attempted.


He dashed once more, pushing the table on his way to block their gaze, limiting the shoot range and the objectives to fire. Once Huge advanced enough, flipping the table towards them, he would also try to disarm them, breaking the guns with his metal hands. But that idea dismissed as his hands were no longer on such state. He had no choice but to conventional take them away and disengage from combat only if the thugs seemed to fight hand to hand. But even then, Huge was not sure if his plan would work. Doubts overwhelming his mind at each second.


If Huge would have stopped for a second to hear what the mysterious man had to say, maybe he was capable to make the thugs see to reason. Even though they don't seem to be ready to give up; or maybe not even capable to do so with so much drugs on their system.


@Epiphany @Hell-Jumper
 
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@Hell-Jumper @ShadowBroker


The smoke lingered.  The flickering lantern attached to the grenade still added to the chaos and confusion of the situation, to say nothing of stray screams and flickers of movement in the diner as people cowered, trying to avoid being targets.  Trivial factors, though, for a man with Vincent's experience with guns.  


Vincent's first bullet hit the thug in the arm, punched into flesh and tore through the tendons the gang member needed to pull the trigger.  The second dug into the man's chest, collapsing a lung.  There was a good chance he'd survive if he received medical attention soon.  There was a better chance he'd be in no shape to pose any danger for the rest of this fight, no matter how stoned he was.  


By the time the man dropped to the ground, the Question had the next two in his sights.  His threat, perhaps coupled by the featureless mask, made the Devil Tigers hesitate.  Or maybe it was the sight of the huge man wearing an improvised mask grabbing a booth's table and flipping it into the men.  The crazy lighting sometimes glinted off of the newcomer, as if he were metallic but not.  The Devil Tigers plainly didn't expect the move in either case; they both stumbled aside to avoid the table, tripping over the booths they'd been knocked into by the Amazon.  By which point the huge man had his hands on their guns, yanking them from their grips.  


There was the briefest moment of pause.  Like a sailing ship in a storm catching air just before landing on a wave that might sink her.  Or maybe like the moment a driver realizes they're in the wrong lane and the rapidly brightening headlights are of a car that will hit them.  


...actually, it was getting rapidly brighter in the diner...


A second later, a full size Buick jumped the curb and crashed right into the diner.  The Amazon threw herself into the path of the car, catching the bumper with both hands and flexing mightily to stop it.  She succeeded...in slowing it enough for it to crash into a row of booths and pin her under a wreckage of broken car, splintered wood and injured civilians.  


Four more Devil Tigers sat in the car, looking a little stunned and more than a little stoned as well.  Two of them had bloody noses from the impact.  All looked ready to get out of the car and join the fray.  


Out on the street came the distinctive sound of police sirens and the faint flicker of patrol lights; the law was close.
 
The crowd at the Golden Cobra was light.  By the time Jessica arrived, they were just making a show of opening the doors.  The real money would be made tonight as hundreds looking for a good time found it and more at the club.  It looked classy enough for ambiance but drug dens like this didn't care what you looked like or dressed as, so long as your wallet was loaded.  


Jessica found no trouble getting in.  She received a few probing looks, mostly because she wasn't an especially known face here.  But even in this day and age, men like them looked at a pretty girl like Jessica and those assumptions didn't include fear or caution.  Especially not in that black sweatshirt.  The advantage was hers.  As was the first move.  


At the moment, the interior featured an unpopulated dance floor.  The tables draped out along the periphery were only sparsely populated, mostly by drug sellers organizing their merchandise or counting up cash on hand.  In Jessica's experience, a drug ring like this usually operated in partnership with the bar and the management, not only eliminating most sources of interference but allowing the ring to store their proceeds in the club safe.  The owner wasn't immediately visible on the floor.  But beneath the smiles and interested looks heading in Jessica's direction (she was a pretty girl after all) were strong, fit men and women.  These weren't nickel-and-dime sellers working out of pocket in dubious health.  Someone recruited most of these people and whoever they were had an eye for muscle.  

Jessica Grayson glanced around the room, pulling down her hood and revealing her entire face. Her eyes trained on the bar, then scanned the rest of the room. They might have been trained in spotting muscle, but she was trained in using it, and putting on a good act, too. She clenched her fists in her pocket and walked, (staggering, slightly tipsy)  to the bar and leaned on it, her elbow resting on the tiles and her blue eyes looking at the man behind the bar. 


"Look, pal... whatzit gonna take to get me a Margarita 'round here? if you can't get me one, a plain ol' gin will do." She said, slurring her words more than enough to make sure the guy behind the counter bought her "just a drunk" skit. @Epiphany
 
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Question wasn't sure what surprised him more, the fact the men listened without him having to shoot one, or the table that sailed through the air followed by the man who practically shone grabbing and disarming them. Question followed it up with the only thing that came to his paranoid and quite possibly insane mind. "Buy a guy a drink?


 


Question's odd remark didn't go long interrupted. A four seater careening down the street bowled through the people people outside and crashed through the Diner's front entrance. Luckily Sycleia was able to slow it's impact, most likely saving the lives of whoever the car had carried in on it's hood.


 


The faceless man was quick to act, quickly approaching Alvarez before pistol-whipping him and turning the gun on the Tigers in the car. He decided to quickly exchange his .45 calibre rounds for a clip of non-lethal rubber rounds coated with a sedative. He stood with the barrel of his pistol nearly touching the glass and emptied the nine round clip into the windows, five to the front seat and four to the back. He only prayed the rounds were accurate and that the sedative was powerful enough to contradict whatever these goons were on. However, he assumed they were on some kind of downer, otherwise they'd be more aware.
 
Fortunately, Huge managed to stop those two thugs with the display of strength and dexterity. Though on his desperate need to restore order and control his own mind sickness, his perception lower it's reach not being able to become aware of the quickly approaching light. When he become full aware of the event, he hardly turned back to face his end before the front of a car. His mind paralyzed the moment, astonished as it was it register the event as an inevitable bullet about to kill him. A last blow but this time he could not block it or dodge it, he was going to die.


"I have gone too far..." as if realizing his plan reached the end, calculating the possible exist but his body refuse to move. "Hesitate. No. Don't. It's too soon." the lights becoming brighter and brighter as the vehicle finally breaks down the only obstacle before reaching the inside of the diner. Every single fabric brick collapsing and shattered before his eyes as he remained there, almost kneeling; watching with inexplicable acceptation. He closes his eyes just before the vehicle stops dry. "Not dead. Not yet. How?" he managed to stand up and breath once more as he saw with childish curiosity the woman he saw before. He couldn't stop the words coming out from his mouth, processed by his mind, "This was- wasn't -the outcome." 


Finally his eyes catch the new comers, wearing the same jackets. Huge identified them as the Devil Tigers. However, before react he needed to regain control of his body once more "None gave a signal. Were they watching?." whispers that were the last resistance his brain gave before he cold react once more, focusing his thoughts to the actual events instead of reach conclusions, "The front line are still stunned by the crash." ending with his thoughts. Huge dash forward and confronts the first two on the left.


However he could only duck and remind down as he heard the shots of a weapon coming from the woman's ally. His legs began to shake in fear. Fear? Maybe it was just tension growing up before boil, nerves. He could only stare up and be ready to fight hand to hand but he hardly had the possibility to stay under control. He hoped it did not come to killing, but hope does not changes anything.
 
@sitanomoto


The bartender weighed Jessica's apparent intoxication (and the possibility of her being a cop) before remembering this was Bludhaven and the cops had better things to do than shakedown clubs on overselling violations.  Still, appearances had to be maintained.  


"Look, pal... whatzit gonna take to get me a Margarita 'round here? if you can't get me one, a plain ol' gin will do.


"I can get you whatever you want, if you have ID."  There was a slight smirk on his lips, possibly due to Jessica's seeming (and actual) youth or possibly due to a girl showing up alone this apparently trashed this early in the evening.  "Might want to pace yourself," he added.


A pair of men peeled off from a nearby table, flanking Jessica on either side.  One leaned with an elbow on the counter, the other placed both hands on the counter like he expected something from the bar.  But their interest is entirely on the young woman seemingly alone.  


"You by yourself, gorgeous?" the leaner asked, confirming.  


Elsewhere in the club, a few more eyes turned this way.  Though it was likely that the attention Jessica drew came from being a pretty, drunk girl coupled with not much else happening right now.  




@Hell-Jumper 


With the two gang-bangers disarmed, the Question moves in on the quartet in the car.  Given the cracked condition of the Buick's windows, they offer virtually no resistance to the faceless man's gunfire.  Each takes two, the point blank range and their confinement in the vehicle making it relatively easy to score solid body shots.  They twitch with the impact, hands grasping at their coats, fumbling to staunch the inevitable flow of blood.  There's a second of confusion across their faces as they realize they aren't actually bleeding.


And then the four start to pile out of the car, rage on their faces, moving stiffly but not seemingly slowed much.  One steps wrong, or perhaps he twisted his leg in the collision.  He hits the ground and seems surprised to be there.  None of them seem to be feeling any pain but between the car crash and the sedative-laced rubber bullets, they're not moving too quickly.


One of them gets a gun up and returns fire.  Badly.  No scream so it must have gone wide but there's small chance they'll keep missing in a crowded diner like this.






@ShadowBroker


Despite the inevitability of that oncoming car, the tall woman in a red hoodie and gray sweatpants actually...well, almost stopped the car.  Her hands caught the front end on impact, her running shoes digging into the floor and it still plowed her over.  But her effort also cost the car most of its remaining momentum.  It only broke some booths and knocked some people over instead of surely slaughtering half of the diners.  And possibly Huge himself.


The faceless man opened up with that pistol and each of the nine shots strikes the ears like a hammer blow in this enclosed building.  Everyone who can ducks for cover. 


As the men begin to climb out of their car, despite being shot, Huge is in the strange position of looking across debris-strewn floor into the eyes of the woman.  The car had pinned her to the floor and blood trickled from the corner of her mouth.  But her eyes blazed with implacable determination and she gripped the front axle...and actually started to lift the vehicle!  But whether it's the weight or her wounds, she's not able to sustain it and the Buick falls back atop her.  


Instead, she looked Huge in the eyes.  "Stop them!" she urged him.  "For their sakes!"  One outstretched hand, spotted with blood, gestured towards the terrified diners.  
 
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The bartender weighed Jessica's apparent intoxication (and the possibility of her being a cop) before remembering this was Bludhaven and the cops had better things to do than shakedown clubs on overselling violations.  Still, appearances had to be maintained.  


"Look, pal... whatzit gonna take to get me a Margarita 'round here? if you can't get me one, a plain ol' gin will do.


"I can get you whatever you want, if you have ID."  There was a slight smirk on his lips, possibly due to Jessica's seeming (and actual) youth or possibly due to a girl showing up alone this apparently trashed this early in the evening.  "Might want to pace yourself," he added.


A pair of men peeled off from a nearby table, flanking Jessica on either side.  One leaned with an elbow on the counter, the other placed both hands on the counter like he expected something from the bar.  But their interest is entirely on the young woman seemingly alone.  


"You by yourself, gorgeous?" the leaner asked, confirming.  


Elsewhere in the club, a few more eyes turned this way.  Though it was likely that the attention Jessica drew came from being a pretty, drunk girl coupled with not much else happening right now.  

Jess pulled out her ID, flashing it at the bartender with a (mostly faked) lopsided grin. "I 'preciate the concern, but I'm just fine. Though you migh' be right. Just a water, please.


She felt her nerves set on edge when she was approached by two men. 


"You by yourself, gorgeous?" 


Jess turned and stared at the speaker. Her eyes took in a man who had no trouble drinking, but also no trouble picking a fight. She felt herself itching to throw a good punch, but she made herself take a breath and have patience. There were bigger fish to fry, and she had an appearance to maintain, after all. She giggled, and inwardly grimaced at a sound so foreign coming from her Own mouth (but it had to be done, it just had to....), then tapped her fingers on the bar. "I could be.... who wants to know?" Her eyes assessed the way both of the men were leaning, finding weak spots for a good punch or a well placed kick, but it looked like she was just having a gander at who she might end up with in the morning. She also glanced around, looking at the nearby tables and the bar to see if they'd hold a woman or a couple of men fighting each other. 


She hoped it wouldn't come to that. 


@Epiphany
 
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Huge woke up from his mind like cage. Eyes switch right into the two on his left, analyze them quick before get into action. The first was still stunned by the crash while the one behind him seemed capable enough to put up a fight. His hands tighten up just before punch the situation out in order to protect the people on the Diner. The police should be inside any time soon though...


But such a calculation only reached for a conclusion when Huge was already near them to punch them to submission. The first one would be at his mercy the moment he arrived. His hand took the man's head and smash it on the vehicle, once to knock him out, twice to make a point. Then dashed forward to tackle the second and begin the fight, punching with quick and short hooks at the belly before attempt to do anything drastic such as break his arm. "Did she just ordered me to..." his mind would finally bring out questions out of the blue while the fight continues. It wouldn't take long for the thug to remember Huge that the battle required of his full attention.
 
@sitanomoto


"Water it is," the bartender said, and there was just a touch of a nod of approval.  A place like the Golden Cobra didn't care but it seemed this bartender at least had enough ethical respectfulness left to see Jessica as someone to watch out for.


The same can't be said of the 'gentlemen' who moved up on her.  The leaner chuckled at Jessica's coyness.  "I'm Raul.  That's Jamil.  Can't say I've seen you before, sweetie.  Maybe you come with girlfriends sometime?  Or is this your first time to the Snakehouse?  This place, it's like a good night; a little slow to get started but when it gets going, you go until you get off."  Jamil joined his partner's chuckle and added "Where you come from, honey?  Wouldn't hurt for someone to know where you live so we can get you home after you've had enough."


Meanwhile, the bartender passes both men a beer.  Different beers.  Clearly this place doesn't mind its 'employees' drinking on the job, and knows what they like to drink on top of that.  Equally clearly, these men aren't traditional 'employees' but vendors of products to improve an evening.  Jamil wore a coat and it had enough weight to it to Jessica's practiced eye to not only conceal a gun but probably a good amount of product.  Raul wore just a tank-top over denim but he'd come from a table that still had his coat draped over it.  


"What's your name, sweetie?" Raul asked, recapturing the conversation.  He's curious and definitely interested.  


The Golden Cobra had plenty of sturdy surfaces for battle, but the main floor was open for dancing.  No competition out there yet, though.  Lots of space to move, up to and including climbable walls and some balconies to work with.  

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@ShadowBroker @Hell-Jumper


Sirens wail outside Smith's Diner.


For Huge, the gunfire and alarms going off mix with the frightened screams of diners and form a thundering noise that makes it hard for anyone to think through.  Across the way, the faceless man exchanged fire with the pair on his side.  As for the pair on Huge's side, the wrecked debris of broken booths and prone diners made the floor hard to navigate in the still-smoky interior.  The Devil Tigers seem to have an even harder time, though both men have been through a car wreck and were both shot twice by the faceless man.  It's a miracle they're even on their feet at all.


The first struggled when Huge grappled him but two impacts of head-against-car take most of the fight out of him.  Dropped to the floor, he looks more stunned than hurting but he didn't have any success in finding his way to his feet, which took him out of the immediate fight.  The second brought his gun up and got off a shot just as Huge closed on him.  Something grazed the big man, though it either missed or his skin had turned the bullet aside.  


Then Huge started trading blows with the Devil Tiger.  His speed, size and reach are tremendous advantages but the Devil Tiger doesn't seem to feel much of it.  By the time he started fighting back in earnest, though...


More yells filled the air and the welcome sight of police bring the promise of an end to this.  There's four of them, two on each side.  One Devil Tiger doesn't take his situation seriously and gets shot three times for his trouble.  Everyone else drops to the ground, outnumbered and apparently not too stupid to live.  


The Question and Huge found themselves watching the police disarm the remaining gang members.  Alvarez was unconscious.  And with all the Devil Tigers out of the car, Scyleia had enough leverage at last to push the car off of her.  The tall Amazon wiped a rope of blood from her mouth with the back of her red hoodie's sleeve, popped her neck with a grimace and gave Huge a respectful nod.  "I'm not sure the smoke grenade or the escalation were necessary.  But nice team work otherwise.  It looks like the civilians are all alive which, given these trigger happy fools and their willingness to drive a car into the diner, is a better outcome than I expected."


She offered a hand to Huge to shake before glancing back at the Question.  "You're not hurt, are you?"  Clearly, the woman was more concerned with the risk of breaking her promise to protect him than she was with being hit by a car.
 
Finally the fight was over. Although Huge was surprise the last bullet didn't happen to get him, ignoring the reason for way he was still alive. Regardless, he was. The police enforcement finally arrived and Huge felt comfort as the gunshots were finally over. His cunning senses back *online* as he would call it. He checked up his gear completely, mumbling words he would only understand.


The tall odd woman arrived to his aid, offering a hand to shake. But something more was on his mind beside the fact he needed to find the Lt among the mess, "You are not from here." he responds ignoring everything she said, though recalling the obvious thing, then he took her hand "A tight grip. Oddly tall, inhumane strength." his eyes moved as quick as the bullets The Question fired, though metaphorically speaking since such speed would be almost troubling, "Like me? No. Impossible. Your skills might overwhelm my own traits. Though you lack of operation tactics." then he snaps out of his investigation, "You were here. Not a mystery, although not a coincidence either." referring to the reason of the both of them to be here, clearly something to do with the gang, or the man they tried to harm. Finally the inquire that tides all the nodes together escapes from his mind, "Who are you? What is that you do here?" Huge lacked of the social skill to interact like a normal person. It wouldn't take long to Lt to pardon him, or for Huge to figure it out lately.


@Epiphany
 
Water it is," the bartender said, and there was just a touch of a nod of approval.  A place like the Golden Cobra didn't care but it seemed this bartender at least had enough ethical respectfulness left to see Jessica as someone to watch out for.


The same can't be said of the 'gentlemen' who moved up on her.  The leaner chuckled at Jessica's coyness.  "I'm Raul.  That's Jamil.  Can't say I've seen you before, sweetie.  Maybe you come with girlfriends sometime?  Or is this your first time to the Snakehouse?  This place, it's like a good night; a little slow to get started but when it gets going, you go until you get off."  Jamil joined his partner's chuckle and added "Where you come from, honey?  Wouldn't hurt for someone to know where you live so we can get you home after you've had enough."


Meanwhile, the bartender passes both men a beer.  Different beers.  Clearly this place doesn't mind its 'employees' drinking on the job, and knows what they like to drink on top of that.  Equally clearly, these men aren't traditional 'employees' but vendors of products to improve an evening.  Jamil wore a coat and it had enough weight to it to Jessica's practiced eye to not only conceal a gun but probably a good amount of product.  Raul wore just a tank-top over denim but he'd come from a table that still had his coat draped over it.  


"What's your name, sweetie?" Raul asked, recapturing the conversation.  He's curious and definitely interested.  


The Golden Cobra had plenty of sturdy surfaces for battle, but the main floor was open for dancing.  No competition out there yet, though.  Lots of space to move, up to and including climbable walls and some balconies to work with.  

Jess took her water with a nod of thanks and took and small sip of it. "Is it really that obvious?" She asked, referring to her first time. "I dunno if I should tell two complete strangers where I live... besides, I have a ride and I wouldn't want to trouble you....."she said, feigning innocence, batting her eyes. Raul And Jamil were obviously two dealers, and Jessica spotted the small bulge in Jamil's jacket that she recognized as a firearm. Probably a small revolver. The rest of the coat, she noticed, had unseemly bulges that were easily deduced to be the drugs. "Call me Jess, Sweetheart. What makes you interested in lil' ol' me?" This was it. This was the turning point in her evening. Her left hand went to her hip, a seemingly natural motion that Jess knew wouldn't draw too much attention. Her hand sunk into her sweatpants pocket and fingered her switchblade and lighter, but it appeared as if she was just putting her hand in her pocket. A casual gesture that would go unnoticed by all but the most experienced. 


She already had them where she wanted them. Off-guard. If she played this right, she would be out of here with one less drug hive to bother the city and maybe a little more self-confidence.


@Epiphany
 
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Question had spent the better part of the fight trading blows with one hood and ducking gunfire from the other. Needless to say police intervention was a welcome commodity. As they cut down one man, his comrades seemed to see reason and surrendered. "Isn't that perfect"he muttered, running his hands through disheveled hair. He approached Sycleia and glanced at the blood she had wiped off. "I'm fine, can't lose any teeth if you don't have a mouth", he joked, "Are you alright?" He took her concern for his well being more about sustaining her pride and reputation rather than genuine worry. It is far easier to be a paranoid cynic.


 


Question listened to the large man's oddx deliberate, pondering way of investigation and thought. He was an odd bird to say the least, but at least he appeared to be on their side. As he spoke, Q went back to Alvarez and threw him over a shoulder, grunting with the effort. Huge asked who they were and what they were doing. That is the question, isn't it., he thought, considering the deeper meaning."i rarely answer other's questions is what I do.", the faceless man stated before turning and walking out the door, despite there being a huge hole where the car had crashed through, smashing glass and scattering stone and brick.
 
@sitanomoto


The two dealers exchanged looks and grins.  They seemed to think they knew exactly what she was about.  The pair take a step closer as if taking the same cue.  This close, Raul's aftershave brushed Jessica's senses, spicy and not unpleasant.  He reached up with one hand, rubbed the decorative stubble on his face, then rested that hand on her hip.  


"Isn't it obvious, chica?  You've got that look, you know?  That energy.  I can look in your eyes and see someone in there, bright and going places.  Someone I wanna know a little better.  Bludhaven, it gets you down, you know?  But I can pick you up, baby girl.  For a night, however long you wish, I can make it all go away."


His other hand produced a pair of pills, as if by magic.  "Why drown your troubles when you can fly over them?"


Jamil shook his head and mutters "Smooth motherfucker, I'm never getting play with him around."



Both men were close enough to nudge.  At that point, it seemed that the rest of the Golden Cobra's occupants had written the conversation off as a private deal and were no longer paying the slightest attention.  







@Hell-Jumper @ShadowBroker


With the battle over and the police taking stock of the situation, Huge found himself shaking hands with a tall, improbably strong woman.  "No," she said, answering his first observation.  "I'm from Themyscira.  Have you heard of it?"


The big man's observations seemed to confuse her, however.  She tilted her head slightly, as if the change in perspective might change her comprehension of his remarks.  As two of the police approached, she said "I'm Scyleia Lancaster.  I'm with the United League of Justice."  And she produced a silver badge with a black backing hung around her neck on a lanyard.  "You handled yourself well.  Who are you?"


As for the Question, the Amazon nodded at him and smiled slightly, rubbing her chin.  "I'll be fine, Question.  I'm not as...durable as I once was.  That car was more than I expected.  Hera is merciful, though, and preserved us all alive even as those who began this violence are now in the hands of the local authorities."  


Unprompted, and perhaps not even consciously, Scyleia reached out a hand to straighten the Question's disheveled hair, much as a mother might smooth out her son's mussed locks.  


Alvarez stirred feebly when picked up and slung over a shoulder but the Question had no difficulty in managing him.  The police made motions to interfere but they'd seen Scyleia's League badge and were clearly uncertain how to deal with an obvious masked man seemingly in league with the League.  


At which point another police officer showed up, a lieutenant judging by the silver bar on his uniform.  "Hold up there, no one's leaving this scene.  I'm Lieutenant Eliot and-"


"Scyleia Lancaster," the Amazon said, once more brandishing her badge.  "With the United League of Justice."


"Mind if you and your partner stick around so I can verify you are who you say you are?" Lt. Eliot asked, politely but not very patiently.  He briefly glanced at Huge before looking back at the Question, watching the man in the midst of hauling off what could be a suspect.  The Lieutenant's right hand covered his wrist communicator on his left, plainly intending to query that badge.


Scyleia also switched her gaze to the Question.  While she seemed inclined to cooperate with the police, it seemed she intended to continue following the more experienced agent's direction. 
 

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