Multiple Settings Heroes of the New Age: The New Wardens [CLOSED]

[Elenion Aura]

Nikandros of Pallas - The Scion of War
Bingotron 9000000 dikdik WhiskeyMarten​

Nikandros frowned, looking between the waitress, Tom, and the so-called “weapon receptacle.” His grip on his spear did not loosen.

“To be parted from one’s weapon is to be left naked before the gods,” he declared. “Would you ask a hawk to surrender its talons? A lion, its fangs?”

He turned his unimpressed gaze to the umbrella stand, then back to Tom. His nostrils flared.

“That,” he said, gesturing to it as if it personally offended him, “is an insult. A mockery of arms-bearing men!”

Nikandros’ expression shifted slightly in response to Tom's logic. Casting his gaze around the diner, he did not refute the statement.

Slowly, almost ceremoniously, he raised his spear, eyes locked with Tom’s as he did so, as if daring the man to doubt him for even a moment. Then, with exaggerated delicacy, he set the legendary weapon into the umbrella stand.

The flimsy plastic frame wobbled. The spear was, predictably, too long, the tip sticking out at an awkward angle.

“Do not let it fall,” Nikandros warned the stand, as if it were a squire charged with guarding a king’s sword.

Then, at last, he strode fully into the diner, satisfied that this was, indeed, a worthy compromise.

 

[EdwardDewey98]

Mumbai, Maharashtra, India

​

The state of Maharashtra within India is known for holding the highest population of Buddhists - both traditional and new - and for the temples dedicated to the Buddha's practices built within its borders. Chief among these is the Global Vipassana Pagoda, which is known to be able to house thousands of meditators at once, for its preservation and continued practice of the Samatha-vipassanā traditions of meditation within the subcontinent, and for housing various relics of the Buddha and other important items within the history of the religion. As such, for the local Buddhist population, it was a site of great importance - but also a big target for those whose interests lie with artifacts. It was on this day that this reputation brought forth violence to Mumbai.

As one of India's largest metropolitan centers, Mumbai is known for great amounts of criminal activity as well as a wide range of local vigilantes attempting to stem that tide. From its bustling main streets to the various slums, there was always metahuman activity of some kind. But in recent years, the Black Line had made things almost unbearable - especially with the local government being nearly all bought into their pockets. This left the police ill equipped to deal with the situation, as they hardly had the resources to deal with their own local issues. And now, heavy artillery had come to town with full intent on pillaging the pagoda.

A large armored truck had crashed into the pagoda's grounds, overwhelming on site security and in turn taking hostages as nearly a dozen men with rifles exited and started rounding people up. Leading them was a tall and slender Indian woman, whose presence was commanding and terrifying as she wielded sorcerous powers that twirled around her free hand as another gripped on a grimoire. "Nobody move and you won't be hurt." she announced as they entered the main hall of the pagoda, observing her surroundings. Her men, Black Line operatives, were doing their work in herding people and making sure nobody acted up. This included the disarmed security, who had all been ziptied and sent to a far corner to separate them from the rest of the civilians.

"Do you take pride in robbing your people of their history?" one of the attending monks spoke up with a defiant tone, his glare aimed straight at the woman. "You desecrate more than just our grounds, but the very spirit of the Buddha's teachings!" His words were serious and filled with conviction, but this only drew a laugh from Shalini - who openly mocked his beliefs by exaggerating her laughing she approached him. Her eyes were filled with contempt, and annoyance, as she leaned down and stared right through him.

"This ain't my history, old fool. Now get out of the way or we'll take more than just your artifacts!" she shouted with a malicious grin, bringing her pistol up to hit him with. This threat alone was enough to get him to flinch, which was then followed up by a harsh shove by one of her thugs that forced him onto his knees. "You heard the woman, pajeet! MOVE IT!"

"You team up with foreigners, taking away our history and culture! The magic and sorcery flowing through you are nothing but malevolent!" the monk shouted again in protest, which made Shalini turn to him with narrowed eyes.

This prompted a scoff, and another laugh from her as she ran a finger through her hair as she observed the pagoda's grounds around her. "It's because I carry the power of great beings in my blood that I am able to do all this." she stated matter of factly, summoning wisps of power to the very tips of her fingers. "And that terrifies you. Not step aside, or I'll let their bullets speak for me."

The monk tried to muster a last defense, but relented as he hung his head in shame and - in order to protect those around him - gave them access to the temple's inner sanctums. Many of the goons grew excited and began to loot, putting items into backpacks or briefcases that they had brought with them, as they emptied the pagoda's coffers. Shalini, however, was more interested in only one particular artifact at the furthest end of the hall. Deep within the temple, she could sense its power... its energies. She could practically taste it on her tongue as she approached closer, her eyes widened as they fell upon an altar that housed a tiny piece of bone on it. "Finally, after so many failures... I have it..." she whispered, "An earthly remain of Siddhartha Gautama... the energies of the Buddha will be mine... and my magic will grow!" She shouted as she snatched the bone.

Her body shivered as she began to consume such raw, enlightened power which drew the attention of one of the mercenaries that had escorted her. He approached cautiously out of concern, but found himself face to face with her malicious grin. Flames coalesced on her hand as she launched fire at him - completely burning him to a crisp. "...the Black Line were useful, but I do not need you anymore." she announced with a wicked expression. But before the infighting could begin, a woman had appeared at the entrance and in turn drawn the mercenaries' attentions. "Stop right there bitch!"

The foreigners were oblivious to the fact of who this woman was, but one of the other local mercenaries looked visibly panicked. "...wait, that's... Kailasa!"

"Who the FUCK is that!?" one of the foreigners shouted back.

"Just open fire!"

Shalini Ghoshal​

Interacting with: Kailasa ( Beann )


West Hollywood, Los Angeles, California

​

To many in Los Angeles, the Southwest Trust Bank is a financial institution that is well known for its affordable interest rates to those living in the American southwest and in parts of California, as well as its numerous community outreach programs. In LA, the Southwest Trust Bank is a regular sponsor of sporting events, community gatherings, and various celebratory parades that occur within the city in the year. Nearly two thousand people work in their main building in Downtown LA, and is a shining beacon of upstanding finance capitalism on the surface. In reality, it is one of the many fronts used by the likes of Penwright in funneling dark money through legal institutions for his own purposes. Which is one of the reasons why Lucky Cat took the time to hit it; it took some time for him to get the layout of the bank and to plan accordingly, including keeping track of which employees would be most susceptible to his Cat Charm.

Like with any good con, he had to find the right combination to ensure everything went smoothly as he hoped it would be. For a score like this, he couldn't afford to mess up. And that meant getting complete and utter control of the key members of the staff that were on duty - and today was the perfect day. He even took the liberty of dressing better than usual with a red dress and golden jewelry to further intoxicate the manager that he already had wrapped around his finger. The young man stumbled his words constantly ever time he looked at Cat as he led him towards the vault, and straight towards his payday.

But as they entered, another commotion was arising at the lobby; a shotgun blast thundered through the halls, echoing off the marble as two men wearing matching outfits made their presence known. They were flailing their weapons around, which prompted the security to draw their own guns at them. "Get down on the ground now or we will shoot!" one guard shouted, aiming his revolver at one of the robbers. The duo were silent however as a woman spoke up for them in their midst. "You ain't gonna stop 'em boo~ cuz they my homeboys."

A petite woman with a strange outfit walked between the two men, brandishing a mallet and strutted a confident aura that made the guards turn to one another in confusion. "Then you get down on the ground too, ma'am!"

But this only prompted a laugh from her: "Oh baby, you got no idea who I am, do you? I'm the baddest bitch you'll ever meet, queen of these streets, a one woman army~"

"I don't give a shit if you're the queen of the streets of the queen of Kush! Get down now!" the guard shouted again, pulling back the hammer of his revolver.

"Oh honey..." she then stated with a grin, and soon after multiple versions of herself appeared out of thin air around the guards and hostages. And just as quickly, they knocked him and his compatriots out with sharp punches to their faces. "You people are getting robbed by MultiQueen and her boys! I suggest y'all get on the fuckin' ground or my sexy ass clones are gonna shove those mallets right up your asses!" Soon after, the henchmen quickly gathered the guards' weapons and stuffed them into a bag to make sure they were all disarmed even if they managed to wake up. "Now, lets go my mute boys, we gonna get some money~"

But little did she know, that there was someone in the vault already waiting for her.

MultiQueen and The Twins​

Interacting with: Lucky Cat ( Woffy )


Long Beach, Los Angeles, California

​

As both an important hub of commerce and tourism, Long Beach is constantly alive with domestic and international buzz - millions of tons of cargo flow through every year to carry goods to and from the west coast, and millions of people visit the LA beachfront for leisure. The waves attract surfers and the sun attracts sunbathers, all seeking that quintessential SoCal experience that has been popularized in countless movies and TV shows. But beyond those toned bodies and surfboards lay a darker secret... in what appeared to be a derelict and abandoned building's basement, a young woman looked into a camera with her big red eyes. On the filthy ground of the establishment lay a wounded woman crying in pain, her left leg had been thoroughly pulverized by the massive steel mallet held by the crazed woman. Behind the camera were several men dressed like butchers, but they all had pig or bovine masks and skulls on their heads - and all were filming every detail of the woman's suffering.

The short woman then kneeled next to the girl, smiling at the camera before grabbing her face. "Hey, little meat... lemme ask ya' something real quick..." said the deranged woman, her eyes slowly tracing across her victim. "...which limb you want me to destroy off now~?" It was a rhetorical question, as her blood red eyes looked straight into the doe-brown eyes of her victim. She had already made up her mind on how to torment the woman, and grabbed her mallet. "I think I'll take your other leg now... our lovely viewers LOVE amputee stuff after all~" she said with a twisted grin, gripping the hilt of her weapon tighter in anticipation of the bloodletting. But a sound nearby suddenly caught her attention, forcing her to spin around. "...what was that? It came from the meat room..." she asked, motioning a hand to one of her henchmen to check it out. But he soon returned with a cleaver in hand and with a panicked tone: "One of the sows escaped!"

Sweet'N'Tender gritted her teeth and let out a yell of frustration. "FUCK! GO FIND THAT MEAT, NOW!" she shouted, and soon her men scrambled around the abandoned building, unaware that their other victim had already escaped... and was lying on the ground now far from the building. She toook a few deep breaths, trying to soothe her mind and body from the pain, before looking at her wounds... those damn savages...! She was about to run to the street in the hopes of finding a good samaritan but instead, in the darkening hours and despite the intensity of the street lights nearby, there was a strange person walking towards her. She feared it was someone from the Butchers, and she instinctively shuffled back in fear as she tried to pull her mangled leg along. As luck would have it, however, this was a more heroic face - a future heroine.

But before she could ask who was approaching, Sweet'N'Tender's approach with her men caught both strangers' attention. The crazed woman looked at her victim before blowing her a kiss: "You're a tricky one, sow~" said the wicked butcher, before turning to look at the stranger. "Who're you? Meh..." she then said with a shrug, "Capture her, we need more meat in our show... as for you, sow... wanna hear a 'balloon' pop as punishment!?" With startling ferocity, she lunged forward and grabbed the woman by the wrist; a snap filled the air, following by her screams as her bone snapped out of her skin and forced her to the ground in pain.

Sweet'N'Tender​

Interacting with: Farfalla ( BriiAngelic )

 

[WhiskeyMarten]

Hector - Time's Square​

Elenion Aura Bingotron 9000000 dikdik​

Hector looked at the space around him, where there was hardly room to breathe for all the people making their way through the square. Every time he used his new teleporter, he expected for it to be the day it all went wrong, to wind up on some remote mountain in the Himalayas by mistake. Considering he didn’t know where those were, it was an especially worrying concern. Of course, the device continued to work as expected, and there was no place he could mistake this for. The novelty of being in NYC had worn off by now though, so he didn’t stand there for long before making his way to the diner he had been invited to.

This was gonna be good.

Nikandros was one of the men who got Hector’s attention the most at their first meeting, just from how bizarre his behaviour was. He had been eager to see what he was capable of and whether he was actually serious or just doing a bit. He was surprised that Nikandros agreed to any meet-up that wasn’t on a battlefield, but there was no way Hector would be missing the opportunity to teach the guy some stuff about the real world.

Modern world, huh?

Hector considered himself to be a modern man, more modern than old-man Tom (not that he would call his teammate that). He had a variety of apps open on his phone, social medias that could help Nik catch up with years of missing information. He knew it was pointless for him to try and teach him anything too intelligent. He hadn’t opened any book since his school years, let alone anything about the way the world works. If Hector didn’t need to know, he figured Nikandros didn’t either. He’d focus on displaying his generation’s culture, so that he could fit in with real people. If he could get Nikandros to start making TikToks, it would be a bonus.

As Hector walked into the diner, the first thing he noticed was the very unusual-looking umbrella. Of course, he figured immediately that it was not an umbrella. Smirking, he took a few more steps inside, looking until he saw the familiar faces.

”Hey, what’s up?”

He called to the pair before approaching.

”You always on duty? Saw your friend left by the door.” He pointed a thumb back towards the spear. ”Maybe that’s something we gotta explain to you.” He eyed Tom, sensing that there may have been a discussion about the spear already since it didn’t seem likely that Nik would place it there willingly.

 

[Infab]

(AKA Felicia Roth)


October 5th, 2024
Birdland Jazz Club
New York City, New York, United States

​

"Anyways, I'm kinda wondering how you got an invite to this place. Plus, you told me a few of the others might be coming. Who else did you invite?"

Felicia smiled as her eyes shifted back to Tom. "Oh! One of the people I saved at the Diamond Tower apparently was one of the owners of this establishment. They reached out to me, and asked if there was anything they could give me as thanks. When I mentioned I loved music, especially Jazz, they extended me an invitation to the Birdland and mentioned I could bring friends too. I invited everyone I could. Some had prior plans, I think, but I still hope they come." she said, "Music is a love of mine... One of the few things I can truly call a 'love', from what I understand of it. I'd love to share that with them."

She shifted to glance back behind him again, before turning back to the staff member that had come over to greet them. It was a cute waitress, clad in a white button-up shirt, black slacks, and sporting a blonde pixie-cut hairstyle. "Two for now, but there may be more. I am--" she said, before she was interrupted politely by the waitress.

"Panzerfrau, yes? I saw what you did at Diamond Tower online! There's a few videos of you flying around, and the short interview you did with that reporter, on Youtube and Tiktok too." she said, grinning at the tall machine woman. Felicia hesitated for a moment, surprised, before smiling back and nodding. The waitress glanced to Tom, before motioning for the pair to follow. "A pleasure to have you and your friends, Miss Panzerfrau! Right this way! We have a table prepared for you just in front of the stage!"

Felicia and Tom followed, making their way through the tables before circling around the divider to the more exclusive tables in front of the stage. A few of the patrons looked up, surprised by the sight of the tall robot walking through the room. The circular dark oak dining table was already set, with a white cloth draped over it and several square plates and assorted silverware spaced just so around the table. A large bottle of French vintage wine sat among the plates, with several glasses surrounding it.

Felicia herself didn't drink. Really, she couldn't. If she consumed the wine, it'd just pour into her voice modulator. She couldn't eat either, for the same reason. At least the others would be able to enjoy themselves, though.

She smiled, as she took her seat at the table and watched as Tom took his. The waitress took Tom's order shortly afterwards, and Felicia requested that she stop back by every so often to get any other orders should the others show up.

As Felicia sat there at the table, she began to feel really out of place. For one, she was eight feet tall. She dwarfed the tables and every patron in the building. Another reason was that she was a machine. Machines like her had no need to eat or drink, so they wouldn't have any reason to be in a restaurant in the first place. A third reason was... she didn't have any sort of formal or dressy attire. Really, she doubted she could actually find something in her size that looked nice on her.

She glanced to Tom, a look of embarrassment slowly forming on her face. However, before she could say something, a voice behind her got her attention.

"Well, now... It's certainly a bit of a surprise to see a superhero in a place like this. Especially one like you, Panzerfrau." said the woman immediately behind her, causing her to turn about and look at who was speaking. Felicia's eyes soon fell upon a woman with long red hair and bright red eyes, wearing designer glasses and a nice tailored suit. She seemed to have just finished what looked like a steak, the fatty remnants still sitting on the plate along with a fork and steak knife coated in in the meat's juices. A glass of red wine sat in her hand, which she was gently swirling around as she looked up at Felicia.

"But where are my manners?" then said the woman, swapping the glass to her other hand and offering her now freed right hand to Felicia to shake. "Jacqueline Kaminsky. You can call me Jackie. I'm an investment banker, with Parker & Brock over on West 61st."

Felicia smiled and gently shook her hand. Jackie then shifted her hand to Tom. "Truly a pleasure to meet you both." she said, flashing Tom a polite smile.

​

Interaction: Bingotron 9000000

 

[Roda the Red]

DERWENT DUNLAP​

Derby ought to start planning around this whole hero venture better, what he expected to steal a couple hours of his day, barely costed him 20, were all tasks going to be this easy? Well, as easy as getting covered in acidic moth drool was. Well, probably not, given how fucked up heroes and vigilantes alike would get going by the news. It was a shame, he could've rephrased his deception back then, and go on his way to enjoy the greatness of those half-priced pies. But now, he'd only make a fool of himself, should he return, so aside from retrieving his jacket, he had absolutely nothing to do for the rest of the day, well he did have to study for a test in a week or so, but nothing that could be left for later, it's not like such a thing ever came back to bite him in the ass before, haha...

The newbie jolted as a sudden voice came through the comms device, still attached to his wrist. Give a man a fancy new shiny device, and it'll take a while for him to not jump like a cat when it behaves in an unaccostumed manner, the paranoia of hoping no one was tailing him didn't help, either. "What the fu- How do you know where I-? Ugh, nevermind." The thought of a raging horde of scoop-seekers and their deathly devices of blindness shook Derby to his core. Trusting Dove's words, he skipped across the street, squinting his eyes he could see an arm waving at him from atop a roof.

Once inside, there she was, the woman who arguably gave him the best first impression in that meeting not long ago. The only one of Sentinel's recruits who seemed to bring a healthy balance between confidence and humility, I guess the down-to-earth types are hard to come by when granted with some sort of supernatural talent.

"Heya, so..." He paused for a moment, hands raised forward and vertically flat. "Why are ya here? I mean don't get me wrong." He looked over his shoulder, a horde of paparazzi running towards the bank with cameras in hand. "I'm glad ya called me, was a close call." He paused for a second time, staring down-left with pursed lips. "...Big guy didn't tell ya to keep an eye on me...did he?"

Breadman

 

[Breadman]

Briarwood, Queens, New York City​

...Big guy didn't tell ya to keep an eye on me...did he?

"If he did, I'd come find you waaay before you got into a scrap with a baddie like Moth." The question didn't seem to bother her. Fair to ask, honestly. Dove pointed with her thumb over her shoulder to the back exit of the building. "Not my style to shadow friends." Although she was leading him to their exit, she let Derby keep up the pace with her. "I was in the neighborhood because I was covering another friend's patrol. His grandma is sick, and he needs to take care of her. You know how it is."

She poked her head to make sure that the back alley was clear, and then motioned for Derby to follow her. Not a soul in sight, so they walked down the alley with a brisk pace until they stopped at an unassuming door. "Ok, check this out. Looks like a maintenance room, right? Look at the graffiti next to it." She pointed to a small tag next to the door's upper left edge. A yellow face with a frown showing its teeth. "That's from an old gang that used to own New York until the heroes kicked them out sometime in the 90s and Black Line absorbed their remnants." She ran her finger around the door's handle until she could feel the hidden buttons, "They had their own smuggling tunnels that we use to get out of sight. For the buttons, press up, up, down, down." After she entered the sequence, she stepped back for the door to swing open. "After you." Dove welcomed Derby down into the tunnels, and she shut the door behind her, hearing the lock slide itself back into position. As they walked through the tunnels, the lights automatically turned on to light their way. Benefits of the gang being led by super villains. They invested in infrastructure to last. "So, you're officially an established hero." Dove gave Derby an encouraging smile, "I got a few friends that would love to know the new kid on the block if you want to meet them." She paused for a second, "I'm getting ahead of myself. How do you feel? Taking down your first super villain and saving the day?"

Roda the Red

October 5 Birdland Jazzclub, Hell's Kitchen, Manhattan New York ​

"The nerve of that guy." Dove grumbled as she walked down the street with as fast as a pace as her dress shoes would let her. "Forcing you to park several blocks down because he thought he had that spot reserved by some higher power."

"Rich guys are like that." Knight exhaled a frustrated sigh, "You saw his Porsche. Has to flex it, or he won't get his money's worth." He trailed behind Dove despite his footwear allowing him a better pace. How was she so fast? They eventually passed by the car again, shooting it an annoyed look, contemplating some form of vandalism before moving on. They finally stopped in front of the jazz club. "Hey, how do I look?"

"Kevin, five times in a row, I keep telling you." She turned around and grabbed his tie to slightly adjust it "You look great. Probably better in that tux than half of the phonies in there who think they can fill it out or squeeze themselves in one."

"I just don't want to embarrass Panzerfrau more than being late is all."

"She won't be embarrassed by that. I don't think she's programmed to care about snooty protocols." She took a step back and took a look at her own dress. "Let's say we're fashionably late and not give a damn what anyone, but Felicia thinks about it." He smiled and nodded in agreement. The duo expected to be held up at the door as they were not the regular crowd of this establishment, but mentioning that they were friends of Panzerfrau forced someone to look at the list of names. It didn't take long for them to be escorted by a waiter to where Felicia and Tom were already seated. "Hey guys! Really sorry we're late. Got held up by traffic."

"Great look, Tom. Where'd you get that coat?"
Infab Bingotron 9000000

 

[dikdik]

Who the hell still gave teachers chalk and chalkboards? That was so ridiculous! In the era of smart boards and smart phones and smart cars and smart everything, too. Stupid admin trying to “cut back on spending” when there wasn’t even spending to begin with! Otis’ bank account could’ve proved that much. Remarkably more relaxed than he had ever been on the very first day of a very new school year, and even though the powdery chalk dust was making him sneeze and the noise of it scraping across the chalkboard made him want to throw it out of the window and there was a brand new set of 21 kindergarten students that would walk through that door any minute, he was so excited to meet them. Taking a step back from the board and crossing his arms with a satisfied huff and a smile, Otis marvelled at just how perfect his bubble-lettered “Mr. Otis” looked in the center of that board.

Pushing up his glasses, yes, he had glasses now as his most recent trip to the ophthalmologist went a little unexpected this year, he sat at his desk until the tiny little humans started walking inside. Hopping up, he met the group of them at the door as they were brought inside by guardians, paraprofessionals, and even the principal as her daughter was starting school this year. He waved at Mrs. Kim as she settled Yuna into her cubby. It was all of fifteen seconds before four children spontaneously erupted into screaming and yelling and crying as their parents started to leave. The first day was always the worst day! Parents just didn’t know how to cold turkey their little snot goblins from their presence, did they? Everyone knew it worked best if you just left them! Well, maybe not everyone.

Right as Otis was about to check in with a child, his weird little wrist watch device thingy started buzzing. Instantly, panic snagged Otis. Now?! It had to be right now?! Four Not-Otises puffed into existence and materialized, as much as ghosts only he and a radioactive teenager could see were able to. One crossed its arms and looked at him in disapproval. He was able to dismiss one of them. All that training had its perks, right! Another jumped out the window and fluffed out of existence. He figured that was the one that liked buses. They all seemed to have their own weird… kinks? And the ones that appeared seemed to be individuals with weird little personalities and even senses of humor. Otis was starting to be able to tell them apart by the fluffiness of their edges. The fourth just watched the little watched and casually informed Mrs. Kim and one of the paraprofessionals that he needed to step out of the classroom for a moment to tend to an emergency. He followed that one.

The second he was outside the classroom, Otis waved his hand around just a smidge to get the other three to vanish and read up on whatever was coming through the watch. It was Shadeling, apparently, and there was, to quote the man, “a bit of a situation” happening nearby that Otis was needed for? Well that was one sure fire way to ruin the innocent joys of the first day of fucking school.

Otis returned to the classroom. Only one little ghostly Not-Otis appeared, and it was the one calmly informing Mrs. Kim that his mother was having a medical emergency, which was a cold and blatant lie because he hadn’t spoken to his mother in two years, and that he would need to leave immediately. Though Mrs. Kim seemed worried, she was understanding and planned to have the paraprofessionals lead a few classroom games and activities and mini-lessons for the day if she couldn’t find a substitute. That woman was a saint.

Speedwalking, not running, speedwalking, Otis made his way to the location Shadeling had given him. Two Not-Otises were walking with him. One stopped to dig in a nearby trash can, trash panda, and the other started running before getting smashed to puffs by a car speeding through a crosswalk. See! That’s why you didn’t run! That’s why speedwalking was safer! Reading more information that Shadeling had sent, it seemed like there was someone named Lazon who was causing a pretty intense disturbance at the candy store in the mall nearby. Tugging at the collar of his gray knit cardigan, it felt like it was choking him, Otis started walking a little faster. You can do it, this is fine, everything is totally fine, you’ve been training for like two months, like you’re good, whatever this is you can do it, you’re fine, Lazon guy will be fine, the kids will be fine, oh my god I cannot believe I’m missing the first day of school for this. It’s fine! Just follow the Not-Otis that’s usually right. Inhale, exhale, become one with the Right Not-Me.

The moment he approached the store, people outside were staring, gasping, and leaving the scene. Otis caught the tail-end of an “AAAAAAGH” and some god-awful sound as shelving and candies were incinerated. The supposed source of the noise and the vaporized candies, Lazon, had just flipped a helmet visor closed and seemed to be experiencing some intense distress. This could never, ever, ever be worse than that parent-teacher conference two years ago with the Breckers. I got it, we’re good.

Right Not-Otis started his work. Approaching the scene carefully. “Hi.” Otis followed his lead, acting in perfect synchronization with the misty form, speaking calmly, yet just loud enough to be heard over the noise. “Hi, Lazon. I’m Otis.” Otis looked around, surveying what had happened. “My friend told me you might need some help. Is everything alright?”

The man, Lazon, suddenly stopped clutching his head and turned to Otis, the visor flickering a dangerous red. He hopped off the counter he was standing on and pointed right at Otis, whose heart was now thumping in his throat. “YOU!” Lazon started, gesturing wildly at the store around him. “FIND IT! THEY DON’T HAVE IT AND YOU NEED TO FIND IT!”

“Okay. I can help. What do you need to find, Lazon?” Otis replied calmly. Well, as calmly as he could considering he could be incinerated if he said the wrong thing.

“AGH! SOMETHING SWEET! THE- THE- THE-”

“Lazon, I’m noticing that there’s a ton of sweet things in here. Do you notice all of them? Do you remember which one you are trying to find?”

“THEY DON’T HAVE IT!”

“Do you know which one you would like to find? Is it big or small or round or-?” Otis was following Right Not-Otis’ movements, staying a safe distance from Lazon but subtly, slowly closing some of that distance.

“IT’S- IT’S- it’s? I don’t remember?” Lazon seemed to calm slightly at the realization.

“That’s okay!” Oop, hopefully that wasn’t too strong of a reaction. “I forget things all the time. It’s okay to forget things. I know it can be sort of scary to forget them, but if you forget something like what’s your favorite treat, you can try a new one instead.”

“NO! AGH! I WANT THE OLD ONE!” Lazon became a bit more agitated at the suggestion, gesturing wildly at the store again and clutching at the visor, which Real Otis hoped wouldn’t set off while he was in the store.

“Okay. Okay. I hear you. So the conundrum is that we can’t find your old one and we aren’t sure what your old one is.” Otis repeated, trying to take stock of what to say next. Lazon nodded in agreement. That was good. “If we can’t find your favorite one, would you be open to finding another one that you know you like?” Lazon hesitated, but nodded to that, too. Otis breathed a sigh of deep relief and noticed his fingers had been tugging at each other in the tension. “Thanks for being open to options. So, where do you want to start looking? In the choco-” The chocolate section was currently incinerated and on the ground. “Would you like to start in the- umm… where they put the chewing gum or the fruity candy section?”

Lazon pointed at the fruity candy section and Otis followed as he walked that direction. Silently giving himself a fistbump, Otis’ smile stuck itself on his face and wouldn’t go away. That smile was one filled with relief, pride, and just a smidge of joy in Lazon finding something that worked for him in the moment. It just so happened to be a Twinkie that he somehow found in one of the aisle end caps that he hadn’t lasered, or whatever came out of the helmet.

Otis smiled at him. “Hey, nice find!” Lies! Lies! He hated Twinkies! He'd been lying all day! He lied to Mrs. Kim, now he was lying to Lazon! Was he a liar now? The fuck! “Is that your old favorite or a different treat?”

Lazon smiled back through a mouthful of the chemically-flavored yellow pastry. “The old one.”

This time, it was a silent self-high five.

 

[Bingotron 9000000]

[September 1st, 12:10 pm; Times Square, Manhattan, New York City]
Direct Interactions: Elenion Aura (Nikandros), WhiskeyMarten (Hector)
Indirect Interactions: dikdik (waiting)
───── ⋆⋅⌬⋅⋆ ─────​

Nikandros’ expression shifted slightly in response to Tom's logic. Casting his gaze around the diner, he did not refute the statement.

Slowly, almost ceremoniously, he raised his spear, eyes locked with Tom’s as he did so, as if daring the man to doubt him for even a moment. Then, with exaggerated delicacy, he set the legendary weapon into the umbrella stand.

The flimsy plastic frame wobbled. The spear was, predictably, too long, the tip sticking out at an awkward angle.

“Do not let it fall,” Nikandros warned the stand, as if it were a squire charged with guarding a king’s sword.

Then, at last, he strode fully into the diner, satisfied that this was, indeed, a worthy compromise.

Tom is not really intimidated by Nikandros' steely look and hesitancy, simply staring at him expectantly, until he finally complies. He smiles with relief once he lets go of the spear, before leading him back to the table. "Alright now, Nicki, come on, lets go sit down." He does shoot an urgent look towards the waitress, then back at the spear, as if to say 'take care of it'. The waitress nods, before walking over to carefully rearrange the spear so that it is leaning slightly against the wall and is less likely to fall down.

”Hey, what’s up?”

He called to the pair before approaching.

”You always on duty? Saw your friend left by the door.” He pointed a thumb back towards the spear. ”Maybe that’s something we gotta explain to you.” He eyed Tom, sensing that there may have been a discussion about the spear already since it didn’t seem likely that Nik would place it there willingly.

Tom waved at Hector as he arrived. "Oh, heya Hector! Thanks to the both of you for agreeing to this meeting. We're still waiting on Otis, who said he'd come along, but I think for now we can get started without him. Before we do though, you two hungry? Brunch is on me. Just, y'know, keep it reasonably priced..."

The waitress walked over and was still looking at Nikandros nervously, but she did her job, asking: "G'mornin' to all of ya's... What would you three like?"

"Hello ma'am. We're still waiting on another person, but we can start ordering now. I'll have the steak and eggs, along with a side of toast and some black coffee, thanks."

Once the orders are done, he turns back to the two of them. "So, lets get down to business. Nicki: Hector kinda mentioned this already, but the reason we called you here today is because we want to help you get familiarized with the modern world and its complex workings. From what Sentinel told me, you come from some kind of secluded sanctuary, raised by a holy order, and this is the first time you've left, right? For starters, would you mind telling us what you do know about the world? Particularly whatever this order taught you about it when you were growing up." He asks, trying to be as sincere and straightforward as he can towards Nikandros.

[October 5th, 2024, 8:50 pm; Birdland Jazz Club, Midtown Manhattan, NYC]
Direct Interactions: Infab (Panzerfrau, Robin), Breadman (Dove & Knight)
Indirect Interactions:​

Felicia smiled as her eyes shifted back to Tom. "Oh! One of the people I saved at the Diamond Tower apparently was one of the owners of this establishment. They reached out to me, and asked if there was anything they could give me as thanks. When I mentioned I loved music, especially Jazz, they extended me an invitation to the Birdland and mentioned I could bring friends too. I invited everyone I could. Some had prior plans, I think, but I still hope they come." she said, "Music is a love of mine... One of the few things I can truly call a 'love', from what I understand of it. I'd love to share that with them."

Tom smiled a little. "Wow, that's great Felicia! Honestly, I'm surprised those rich jagoffs didn't cuss you out for damaging their Italian maple floors or something ridiculous like that. But, y'know, you earned it. And let me say, I'm glad you considered me when you thought of folks to invite to something like this. It's nice to have someone to hang out with!" However, his expression turned a little more glum for just a moment. "It's been a loooong time since the last time someone did...." He says, muttering melancholically under his breath. But after a moment, he seems to recover. "Anyways. C'mon lets go enjoy some of those smooth jazz tunes you love so much."

"Panzerfrau, yes? I saw what you did at Diamond Tower online! There's a few videos of you flying around, and the short interview you did with that reporter, on Youtube and Tiktok too." she said, grinning at the tall machine woman. Felicia hesitated for a moment, surprised, before smiling back and nodding. The waitress glanced to Tom, before motioning for the pair to follow. "A pleasure to have you and your friends, Miss Panzerfrau! Right this way! We have a table prepared for you just in front of the stage!"

As the waitress approached the two of them, Tom tried to lower his face a little so that he'd not be making direct eye contact with the waitress. "Uh, yeah. Thanks..." He says in a low tone of voice.

Despite being dressed up quite differently than he normally does, his paranoia still gets the better of him. The odds of this girl being an informant for the X-RAYS hunting him down was low, but never zero. And even if she wasn't, a place like this was probably getting photographed by guests all the time, to post on social media, and all it took was a picture where he showed up identifiably in the background to potentially give him away to an intelligence agency. So he really did not want to be recognized. Thankfully, Panzerfrau seemed to be the one drawing the most attention, for obvious reasons.

The waitress took Tom's order shortly afterwards, and Felicia requested that she stop back by every so often to get any other orders should the others show up.

As they were seated, Tom looked at the menu, before deciding on what he wanted: "I'll have a medium steak. Along with a Jack and Coke from the bar. Thank you." He said politely, still trying not to draw too much attention to himself.

As Felicia sat there at the table, she began to feel really out of place. For one, she was eight feet tall. She dwarfed the tables and every patron in the building. Another reason was that she was a machine. Machines like her had no need to eat or drink, so they wouldn't have any reason to be in a restaurant in the first place. A third reason was... she didn't have any sort of formal or dressy attire. Really, she doubted she could actually find something in her size that looked nice on her.

Tom noticed how uncomfortable Felicia was, and a look of concern crept over his face. He was thinking about what to say, and wracking his brain from some way to put her at ease. He thought about it for a moment, and realized that, something that might bring her some comfort would be to get her to talk about her love for jazz again. Talking about something you like? That was something that always put his autistic mind at ease.

She glanced to Tom, a look of embarrassment slowly forming on her face. However, before she could say something, a voice behind her got her attention.

"Well, now... It's certainly a bit of a surprise to see a superhero in a place like this. Especially one like you, Panzerfrau." said the woman immediately behind her, causing her to turn about and look at who was speaking. Felicia's eyes soon fell upon a woman with long red hair and bright red eyes, wearing designer glasses and a nice tailored suit. She seemed to have just finished what looked like a steak, the fatty remnants still sitting on the plate along with a fork and steak knife coated in in the meat's juices. A glass of red wine sat in her hand, which she was gently swirling around as she looked up at Felicia.

"But where are my manners?" then said the woman, swapping the glass to her other hand and offering her now freed right hand to Felicia to shake. "Jacqueline Kaminsky. You can call me Jackie. I'm an investment banker, with Parker & Brock over on West 61st."

Felicia smiled and gently shook her hand. Jackie then shifted her hand to Tom. "Truly a pleasure to meet you both." she said, flashing Tom a polite smile.

Immediately, Tom did not like this woman's vibes. Perhaps it was the red eyes, and the rare cooked steak? All very vampiric-looking motifs that were putting him on edge.

"> Scanning... No vampiric physiological markers detected. /"

That did a lot to put his mind at ease, but there was still something about her that did not sit right with him. Maybe it was her coming up so casually and injecting herself into their conversation unprompted, or perhaps it was the fact that she was an investment banker. Fuck, it might be something as inconsequential as the stupid designer glasses. The logical part of his mind knew there wasn't anything that could be flagged as legitimately suspicious, but his gut was protesting otherwise.

When she mentions her name, Tom makes a mental note of it, storing it away in his proverbial mental vault. He limply shakes her hand. "Ah, good evening, ma'am. My name is Tomi Braun, but friends call me Tom." he says, making up a false German-sounding identity that would still work with his nickname. He was not going to trust this random stranger with his actual name. "So, are you some sort of fan, Miss Kaminsky? Can we help you with an autograph or something?..." He asks politely. His tone is not hostile by any means, but it seems to be impersonal enough to discourage her from sticking around for too long. He was actively and consciously trying to play social conventions towards her leaving them alone, without making it too obvious.

It didn't take long for them to be escorted by a waiter to where Felicia and Tom were already seated. "Hey guys! Really sorry we're late. Got held up by traffic."

"Great look, Tom. Where'd you get that coat?"

Thankfully, Dove and Knight had arrived, with Tom waving to greet them. "Hey, welcome! Please take a seat. We've been waiting for you two for our private gathering. Glad you could make it." He seems legitimately happy that they have arrived. However, he again takes the opportunity to indirectly put pressure on this Kaminsky woman to leave them alone, by emphasizing ever so slightly the fact that this was a small private night out amongst friends.

He takes Knight's compliment in stride, laughing awkwardly a bit. "Aw shucks, thanks man. I'll tell you about my tailor in a little while. Both of you look quite nice as well!"

 

[BriiAngelic]

• Farfalla Cirmolo || Marionette

• 
  
  
  Interacting With/Mentions:
  NONE
  
  
  

  ~ Long Beach, California ~
  
  There was a cloud to her consciousness as the pressure in the back of her head retreated. Her mistress must have used her body again. She looked around, finding her surroundings different from before. Was she still in California?
  
  Mistress?
  
  No answer came back. Not that she expected one exactly. She pulled out the “cellular phone” looking for where she was now. Long Beach? She’d never been to this place before and now she would have to figure out what exactly caught her mistress's eye in this location.
  
  It was near the dead of night and the streetlights were her only guide in this path. She saw a panicked individual running with a true fear for their life. She turned ready to ask the woman where she was running from when she heard the sound of pained struggles nearby.
  
  She saw a woman collapse and immediately went to her. Whatever her mistress wished from her would have to wait. She had hardly gotten within a few feet of the woman before she realized what was happening. The pregnant victim was grabbed by this psychopath and she knew there was only one thing to do. She had to be a hero!
  
  
  
  “Ma’am release her now! She’s clearly in pain and needs emergency treatment!”
  
  "Release her? Oh no cutie, I ain't releasing her." She pulls the pregnant woman closer, licking her bloodied face. "Our customers love content with our sows, her tears, her anguish, her body... It gives me a lot of joy... And money~"
  
  Ah so this is what they called a proper villain. She clicked a few buttons on the phone. 9-1-1. The line was connected and she hardly waited a moment before speaking into it.
  
  “Long Beach, California. I don’t know the exact streets please trace this call and send an ambulance for a wounded pregnant woman. Additional personnel will be needed to help lockup a criminal once I have finished neutralizing the threat. Thank you!”
  
  She kept the phone line on as she gently placed the phone to the side. The first thing of importance was separating the victim from the attacker. It was unfortunate the weird woman was not the only one who was a threat. She did not know why the others all seemed to wear such strange pig masks upon their faces but she had little time to figure that out.
  
  “This is your warning. Drop your weapons and violence will not be necessary in your capture. Please lower your masks as well. Do so and this will be painless.”
  
  "Warning~?" said the murderous psychopath before pushing the pregnant woman against a wall. "Is that a promise~?" said the psychotic woman before raising her enormous mallet. "...Steve, got the camcorder on?" one of the pig men gives his boss a thumbs up. "...then film how I'm about to crush this cute blue sea cucumber into mush~"
  
  Unfortunate! Well that made their choice for them. Farfalla picked up a rock from the floor and chucked it forwards with all her might at the camera. There was no way such depravity should be allowed to be shared amongst those who would seek to repeat it.
  
  “Not allowed.”
  
  She went in for the goons first knowing that any additional bodies would be people who could harm the victim more while she was fighting with the woman. She did a running jump before landing with both feet planting into the stomach of one of the goons.
  
  One down.
  
  She got up, staring down the others with clear decisive intent. One screamed and began to flee marking them as her next target. She shifted her weight before putting her all into catching the man with a solid right hook to face.
  
  Two down.
  
  She was ready to lay into the third with no qualms when a crack stopped her in her tracks. Part of her right hand was shattered and fell to the ground as the woman’s sledgehammer connected.
  
  Her mistress was going to be so upset at the need for repairs.
  
  “Ah, that’s an issue.”
  
  By the nature of her existence, she could not feel ‘pain’ associated with the wound but the lack of the hand would hinder her ability to take the woman down.
  
  "What the... You're... Not human?" Pouts lip. "How... BORING!"
  
  “Oh wait no. Oooooooooooowwwww!”
  
  She almost forgot, she had to act natural!
  
  The woman was clearly frustrated at the lack of response from Farfalla as the strikes became faster and more frequent. It was only the single-minded focus on the woman that allowed Farfalla to gracefully dive out of the way of strikes. The onslaught made the doll have to go on the defensive but their cat-and-mouse game needed to have a new step to this tango if she was to ensure the victim’s safety.
  
  It was a risky move to lessen the distance but staying defensive wouldn’t end this fight. She dove under another strike bringing the full force of her momentum to knock at the knees of this evildoorer. As she expected the woman fell with the sledgehammer’s weight bringing her forwards with it. She had a moment to right herself before she heard another crack. The back of her head was hit hard enough to leave a crack in the faceplate.
  
  She’d forgotten one of the pig men. Yet when she turn upon them their face paled as the masked villain attempted to flee. She brought one hand out grabbing them by the back of their clothes and judo slamming them onto Sweet N Tender knocking both clean out.
  
  The sound of sirens nearby told her all she needed to know. The police and ambulances arrived. She turned around to find various officers approaching her with raised guns. Perfect! They would be able to help her round up these people into their cars. She raised her voice as she waved at them.
  
  “PERFECT TIMING OFFICERS! The threat has been secured! The victim is this way!”
  
  Job done! Away the evildoers go!
  
  

 

[Infab]

(AKA Felicia Roth)



October 5th, 2024
Birdland Jazz Club
New York City, New York, United States

​

"Ah, good evening, ma'am. My name is Tomi Braun, but friends call me Tom."​

"Ah, Tom. A pleasant name." responded Jackie, smiling warmly. "I knew a Tomi once. Sadly, he passed during the invasion... Such a terrible ordeal."

"So, are you some sort of fan, Miss Kaminsky? Can we help you with an autograph or something?..."

"Certainly. An autograph from such a renowned hero such as Miss Panzerfrau here would be most wonderful indeed." she responded, looking back to Felicia. "My mother was a former East German. She used to tell me so much about you and your adventures, before the unification. I was but a newborn when Germany reunified, so I didn't know of you really until part of the way through the Nineties."

"Oh, your mother was East German?" responded Felicia, a surprised look on her face. "What part of East Germany was she from?"

As Jackie dug through her purse for something to write on, as well as a pen, she responded. "Eisenhüttenstadt. My father was Polish, from Głogów." she responded, eventually drawing out a small notepad and a nice looking pen. She then offered them to Felicia.

A moment later, Felicia had scribbled her trade name onto the small notebook. It was elegantly written, mimicking her creator's handwriting. "Always a pleasure to meet a fellow East German." said Felicia, giving the woman a smile.

Jackie smiled back. "Indeed it is. Most stayed back in the Fatherland, but some went abroad. I'm surprised you did, though I'm sure you have your reasons for being here."

Soon enough, others in Felicia's party arrived. "Ah! More friends of yours." commented Jackie, as she looked upon the new arrivals.

"Hey, welcome! Please take a seat. We've been waiting for you two for our private gathering. Glad you could make it."

Jackie's smile didn't fade. Instead, she turned back to Felicia. "Ah, well. I'd rather not be rude, so I'll leave you to your party." she soon stated, offering her hand to Felicia again. "It's been a pleasure."

"Likewise. Have a good evening, Ms. Kaminsky." responded the tall robot, reaching out and gently shaking the woman's hand once more. Not long after, Jackie departed, leaving the group alone to enjoy their evening.

Felicia soon shifted her attention back to the newcomers. "Hey! You two made it!" she said, with a wide smile. "Hope it wasn't too much trouble getting here." She motioned to the empty chairs. "Please, have a seat and take your orders. Its all on the house tonight."

​

"...So, I ran into someone interesting just after finishing my dinner." spoke the red-haired woman, as she stood at a crosswalk. The light was still green, and cars were making their way back and forth on the street. She'd have to wait a bit before she could cross, but she didn't mind. If anything, patience was her strongest virtue.

"Oh? Who might that be?" asked the voice on the other end of the call. Another woman, her tone bearing total disinterest. Robin knew better. She liked hearing about Robin's activities from time to time.

"A man by the name of Tom." said Robin, a grin slowly creeping across her face. "He said his name was 'Tomi Braun', but... of course, that's just a cover. The man's paranoid, after all. I would be, too, if I were in his shoes."

"Tom? As in... Thomas Darter?" asked the woman, the disinterest replaced with genuine surprise. "Titanium Man?"

Robin chuckled softly. "Oh yes. The very man that helped Sentinel embarrass Killer Suit and Meike." she responded, "...And guess who was with him?"

"Ooohhh, please. Do tell."

"Panzerfrau. It also looked like a certain hero by the name of Black Dove and her knightly cohort were also meeting with them. It seems they were having a special little party. On the house, of course, at the Birdland Jazz Club. After all, the tall communist robot saved one of the owners."

"Hmm..." murmured the woman on the other end of the line. "...I'd honestly chalk that gathering up to New York being a breeding ground for heroes. They sprout like weeds there."

"Very true. Same goes for Miami, Chicago, Los Angeles... most other major cities across the planet."

"Still, this is something. He has protection around him now. That means it'd be ten times harder for Killer Suit or Meike to get their revenge. Especially because New York is Sentinel's home turf."

Suddenly, a trio of gunshots sound off from the other end of the line. Robin cocks an eyebrow, glancing towards the phone for a moment. She then smirks. "...Guess I caught you at a bad time, eh?"

"Oh, no. You didn't." responded the woman, "...This piss-ant decided to spit on my shoe. Probably saw it in a movie and thought he'd look like a badass if he did it... All it earned him was three new holes in his head. Though... I feel I might have overdone it. I used a forty-four. He doesn't have much of a head left.... Heh, I'll send you a picture."

"Eh, its just not as fun when its gunshots... You know how I am." responded Robin. Soon, the light turned red overhead, and the crosswalk sign lit up. Time for her to move across. As she walked, she continued. "Anyway, we're still on for lunch this weekend, right? And please tell me you didn't invite that Russian woman..."

"She's a client, Robin. I have to maintain good working relationships with clients. Besides, Karina is pleasant to be around."

"For you. I personally can't stand her. She's a movie snob, and even worse than the kinds we have here in New York."

"You're a snob too, but in a different way."

"Well fuck you too, Matilda."

"Easy, Robin. Relax... She's not coming. My lunch with her is Monday of next week."

"Good. Anyway, gotta go. I'm at my car. I'll text you later if anything fun comes up." stated Robin finally, as she soon arrived at her Porsche. She had parked it a few blocks away from the Birdland club, as to disuade anyone from following her too far. She also enjoyed walking through the city. Especially in this kind of weather.

"Alright. Actually text me first. Don't just send me pictures of someone you carved up without warning. Last time you did that, I was in a board meeting."

"Certainly spiced up that meeting, didn't it?"

"Yeah, you made the guy next to me throw up."

"Good." said Robin, smiling wide before clicking the button to end the call.



Interactions: Bingotron 9000000 , Breadman

 

[Infab]

(AKA Alicia 'Alley' Shaw)


October 21st, 2024
Riegelmann Boardwalk, near the Thunderbolt roller-coaster
Coney Island
Brooklyn, New York, New York

9:41 PM
​

Ain't nothin' like a good chili-cheese dog. Especially with the way Coney Island makes 'em.

...Wait, scratch that. There's pizza, burgers... Fuck, well, no other place makes good hot dogs like Coney Island.

Alley chewed away contently on the messy chili-cheese dog in hand, as she looked over the pile of onion sitting atop the melted cheese. The only thing that'd make it better would have been a beer, but eh. This would do for now. From where she sat, leaned against one of the lamp posts that lined the boardwalk, she could see for quite a good distance up and down the walkway. Not many people out tonight. Well, it was Monday night. A school night. Kids would be at home, probably in bed or getting ready for it.

Only ones out now would be a few patrons getting their fill before heading home, night owls... or the far less friendly sorts of people.

Those were the ones in particular that she was more fond of encountering. So far, however, she hadn't spotted any. Just the night owls. So, she decided to get a bite to eat. Yummy.

As she got down to the last few bites, she soon heard a commotion nearby. As she glanced over, to her right, she could see some blonde guy dragging a woman into an alley between two of the shops. The woman seemed to be struggling, her voice muffled by the man's hand and her limbs flailing around.

She cocked an eyebrow, and quickly scarfed down what was left of her hot dog. Great, what is it this time? Mugging? Attempted rape? Maybe something new or weird?

As she licked her fingers, she picked up her baseball bat with her other hand. The polished barrel gleamed a bit in the light of the street lamp, as she twirled the bat around in a circle while walking towards the alleyway that the pair had disappeared into. Whatever it was, the guy was about to get one hell of a response.

As she rounded the corner, she could see him still struggling with his would-be victim. She was struggling as hard as she could, her jeans and shirt already torn slightly from the fight. Eventually, as Alley neared, she whistled loudly. The man twitched, releasing the woman who quickly bolted away.

"Alright, motherfucker." she said, finally halting her twirling of her bat and letting it rest on her shoulder. "You want someone to tussle with, you come pick on me. I'll show you a real fun time, got me?"

The man looked back to her, turning slightly so that he wasn't looking directly over his shoulder at her. His bright, ruby red eyes met her piercing violet ones. "...You're not my type. But, one has to make due with what they have, right?" he said, his voice velvety soft and almost melodic. His accent was quite clearly French, and he was clad in a black button-up shirt and white slacks. As he straightened up, he turned to face her completely before speaking again. "...And who might you be? One of New York's many vigilante heroes?"

"Nah. Just someone that hates fuckheads like you, and decided to act on the hatred." she responded, resuming her bat twirling. "Let me guess... You got an itch, and the only thing that could fix it was to bang some random woman in an alley. Pretty boy like you could go hire an escort or something, but nah... You just had to go the rapist route." She stopped twirling the bat, and pointed it at him. "...Am I right?"

"...No, you're not. Far from it, in fact." he said, flashing her a grin. It was then that she noticed his teeth. A pair of elongated canine teeth on the top row. "I'm just hungry. You're right, though. I would hire an escort for sex."

"Ah, a fuckin' vampire. That's new." remarked Alley, raising an eyebrow. "...If you're hungry, go to a fucking blood bank. You're not feeding on some rando on the street. Especially not here in Brooklyn."

"Mmm..." breathed the vampire, before speaking again. "...Well, normally I would. However... I'm starving and I don't think there's a blood bank anywhere nearby."

"Tough shit. You're not feeding on randos, like I said." responded Alley. Her grip on the bat's handle tightened. "Got it?"

"...We'll see, won't we?" The vampire grinned again, before suddenly bowing before her. "...And what might your name be, miss?"

"...Alley." she muttered in response, "What's your posh ass called?"

"Colinus Devereaux, of Bordeaux." he responded, looking up to her. "I was a knight, long ago, but you don't seem the type to care for things like that. So, I left off the 'Sir'."

"A knight? Fuck. A bit beneath you to prey on people like this, wouldn't ya say?" responded Alley.

"...We lose things over the years, for several reasons. I'm far from the knight I was... and the person I was too. Its just the way of things." stated Devereaux. His tone was oddly somber. However, as the last word left his mouth, he suddenly vanished.

OH, FUCK ME SIDEWAYS.​

The moment he reappeared, his form manifesting into view to her left, she swung the bat. The sudden speed in which she reacted caught Devereaux off-guard, forcing him to duck underneath and deliver a brutal upward palm straight into the underside of her chin. The impact stunned her for a moment, just long enough for him to deliver a kick that sent her sailing out of the alley to skip across the wooden boards that made up the boardwalk.

She was soon climbing to her feet, blood dripping from her mouth from where her teeth had been smashed together by his palm strike. One of them seemed to be broken, at least, but she could feel the blood oozing from her gums. "MMMnnnh, fuck.~" she whispered, a chuckle escaping her as she wiped her mouth. She grinned wildly, her teeth stained red from the blood.

He was already on approach, having ripped a pipe from the shop on the right's plumbing. "Feels a bit like a duel, wouldn't you say?" he called out, before vanishing once again. This time, she was ready. Her grip tightened on the bat's handle once more, and before he had even manifested fully, she was swinging. This time upwards, like a golf swing. The bat caught him between the legs, forcing him to rise about three feet off the ground just from the impact. A high pitched squeal burst from his mouth, his eyes bulging and red.

"A REAL FUCKIN' BALL BUSTER, EH!?" she spat loudly, before shoving him away and swinging for his head. The stainless steel baseball bat collided with his skull, the sound echoing down the boardwalk and off the sides of the shops. "AND A HOME-FUCKIN'-RUN, TOO!!" she barked, as she watched Devereaux cut a flip and land on his back. As she glanced down to him afterwards, she noticed his mouth was a bloody mess. Several teeth were now missing. His fangs in particular.

She wasn't done, though.

She twirled the bat, before bringing the end of it straight down into his stomach. The force made Devereaux snap forwards in pain, before her bat caught him across the side of the head. "LET'S SEE HOW FAST YOU REGENERATE. You fuckers can do that, right!?" she spat, blood and saliva flying from her mouth as she watched him skip across the same wood she had.

As he skid to a stop, he coughed up and spat out a mass of blood and a few teeth. What the hell was this woman? Did she had super strength? Super speed? He needed to go on the offensive, and now. As she neared, his speed came back into play. He darted up and towards her, driving the blunt part of the pipe he still had into her ribcage with immense force. He could hear her ribs crack from the hit. Then, a twirl of the pipe and a spin allowed to him to slap the side of her jaw in a backswing. Another loud crack. Perhaps he had fractured her jaw that time.

But that didn't stop her. Her head snapped back around to face him, her jaw hanging slack while her eyes locked with his. He could see the rage quite clearly in her eyes, boiling over into her actions and movements. The bat came back into play, slamming brutally into his side. A few of his own ribs shattered, then another strike hit him across his elbow as he tried to defend himself. That hit broke his arm, folding it backward as the elbow imploded. The pipe was sent to the ground, rolling away from the pair.

A third strike came, this time to his knee. His leg buckled, folding beneath him and forcing him to hit the ground. As he lay there, clutching at his now broken arm, she gazed down at him. Her baseball bat raised above her head, ready to deliver more blows.

However, those blows never came.

She stared at him, as she slowly lowered the bat. Her eyes were still full of rage, but she wasn't acting on it anymore. Instead, she lifted her hand to her jaw and put it back in place so she could speak.

"Can't bite anyone with no fangs, can you? Looks like you'll be drinking through a fuckin' straw for a while." she spat angrily, "...Get the fuck out of Brooklyn, or I'll find you and finish the job."

He then watched her as she turned about and began to walk away. Clutching her ribs and dragging the bat along the ground behind her.

She was tired, and in pain. Getting more hurt fighting a vampire wouldn't help anything. She cut a look back towards him, making sure he wasn't following her, before continuing her trek down the boardwalk.

...Maybe I should get that beer now.

Devereaux laid there for a while on the boardwalk, onlookers afraid to approach the clearly wounded man. Soon enough, he was healed up enough to roll over and stand. She was right. How was he going to feed on anyone with no teeth? He shook his head, ridding himself of the thought for now. He needed blood.

Blood bank it is.