Metropolis

Ryker was rooting through a dumpster for scraps when he heard sounds of fighting behind him. Ducking behind the dumpster he watched the scary looking man exchange blows with a scary looking woman. The tension was thick in the air, almost thick enough to cut with a knife. He reached into his grimy pocket and gripped his knife tightly


Crouched behind the dumpster, with his back to a dead end, Ryker had little choice but to watch the ensuing conflict.
 
Gear growled as he spit in her face. Though her scarf took a majority of it, the spots that hit her skin felt disgusting. Ripping her 'cover' off, she didn't bother trying to wipe off the rest of her face. As he stepped away, she untwisted her cane a little more and slide out just the part she wanted. The glint of the steal as it cut through the air seemed oh so pretty in her head. With her fiery grasp, the blade followed suit rather quickly, as she aimed it for his side.
 
A sword, and fire, pleasant business, Grimm thought to himself, blasting her elbow since the blood had mostly just been on her scarf. Blasting them both with glorious result as he jumped back, out of the blade's path as her arm flashed crimson at the elbow.
 
A searing pain shot up her arm, straight down her spine, and back again. As the metal clanged to the pavement, she blinked a few times, mind failing at grasping what just happened. As blood continually coated the ground, she stared down, and let out a scream wholly unnatural in sound.
 
The sharp crack and the shrill scream almost drove Grimm to tears as he cackled so hard it hurt, walking closer to the now "useless" super, patting out the flames on his arms.


"My very favourite game," he laughed, tearing the weeping burns on his hand open, reaching down to pat the girl on the head.


"I guess you really should have just gone home."
 
Ryker stepped out from behind the dumpster and chucked an empty beer bottle with all his might at Grimn's head.


"Hey buddy! leave her alone"


He gripped his knife tightly in his hand, wishing it was longer. Wishing he was not here. Wondering why he even stepped out of the relative safety of hiding in the first place. But he was done with hiding.


"If you want to fight, come and get it!"


"Great..." Ryker thought. "I might not be able to win, but at least I can't loose."
 
The second the hand landed on her head, Gear errupted into flames. Much like the testing lab, she had just lost control, and his touch just spiraled it worse than anger. Fear was, after all, the much more intense emotion of the two. As her inferno grew, she started to laugh.
 
"Well, that's interesting," Grimm said, actually calm as he straightened back out. A flying bottle was rather painful, but nothing too serious, and the raging inferno beneath the palm of his hand was actually drawing pain from him; quite an interesting experience. Instantaneously, Grimm exploded into maniacle laughter, drawing back from what he assumed to be an immobile inferno, glancing over at what seemed to be a common man.


"And what about you?" he asked, moving toward him, but making sure to keep tabs on the little spitfire; fourth degree burns were pretty bad. The bones in Grimm's right hand were cooking, and actually on the verge of exploding, quite an unpleasant sensation for a normal person.


Pops and crackles from the inside, his flesh bulging, Grimm advanced on the man.


"Do you want to play?"
 
Ryker looked at Grimn, then at Gear, then back at Grim again.


"The last thing I wanted to do today was tangle with freaks like you, but it doesn't look like you'll give me much of a choice in this, huh?"


Ryker stepped forward to meet him, eyes fixed with determination, fingers curled around the knife. Then with perfectly human speed, he lunged forward, slashing wildly with the knife.
 
A simple flick of the wrist drove the swing wide, bringing his right arm across the poor fellow's neck from behind, he blasted the entire damned thing. It was about to come apart anyways, and he just reveled in the agony, the crimson sensation that rushed through him.
 
Ryker's head flew off, bounced several times on the pavement, and rolled to a stop several feet from his body. His body flopped lifelessly to the ground and lay sprawled. remaining motionless for a few seconds, Ryker finally crawled to his feet, headless.


"Damn!" his dismembered head said from the ground, still oozing with blood "That was harsh!"


His body picked up his head, and with a deft throw, sent his head arching back towards Grimn, in a slow easy arc.


"Ready or not! here I come!" the head said as it plummeted toward Grimn
 
Grimm simply swung his arm in the direction of the airborne cranium, spattering it with blood, and ducking under it as it soared by harmlessly. Sanity was the only true inhibitor for a man, and Grimm had no illusion of such a thing. The head merely made him chuckle as he blasted it again, this time to many harmless pieces.


"Well, I really must be going now," The supersoldier said, yawning a little.


"It's been quite a blast, but I need my beauty sleep," he cackled, back to his usual self as he fled the scene. It was fun, but it couldn't last forever, he was already missing an arm, and was burned very badly. Even with his superhuman body, Grimm was quite aware of the damage being done in such little time.
 
Without a body to give chase, Ryker could only watch as Grimn took off, his body caught up with his head moments later.


Picking up the scraps of head, they glued themselves back together and reformed back into his face. He popped his neck, back in place, and tested it back and forth to make sure everything still worked properly.


"Darn... I almost had him... running off..."


He turned his attention back the the injured girl with the missing arm. "You alright there? Looks like you took quite the hit. I know how that feels..."
 
It was payday. Which meant that it was time to get paid. Simple,yet for Domonic Maddox,it was anything but. He approached the back wall of a bank,from the outside,careful to avoid detection. He touched a wall,and a few seconds later,there was a hole,big enough for him to stick his head into. on the other side was the inside of the vault. "Perfect." Domonic pressed his hand to the wall again,and waited several minutes. The hole sealed itself,and then a gouge formed in the wall,creating a rectangle the size of a door. Then,a handle appeared,which Domonic grabbed. He pulled,and the piece of wall swung open easily.


Domonic wore a balaclava,gloves,and had a bedsheet draped over the rest of his body. He didn't want to get caught. And,besides,he's only withdrawing his pay check; $1,540. Enough to live on. He taken the money,and placed it in a small bag he was carrying with him,then left,replacing the wall,and returning it's mass. No harm done. He consumed the mass of his outfit,and proceeded to walk casually into the crowds on the sidewalk.


The bag was made of brown paper,emblazoned with the logo of a liqour store. He had a bottle of wine within,made out of some of his own natural mass. However,it was proper,legitimate wine. He felt comfortable; he was living a normal life,with the exception of his powers,and his lack of employment. Domonic was happy,for once in his life. He saw a man skirt into an alley,missing an arm. Dom quirked an eyebrow,but muttered, "Not my problem." and continued walking.
 
As her fire died down, she looked at the man who had stepped into the fight. As he spoke about her arm, she looked back down at it, the spot had burned itself over and had stopped bleeding. "I....don't.....know...." She sounded confused, and shook her head. Looking down at the ground, at what was the other half of her arm, she twitched a little, her mind reeling.
 
Domonic looked at the sky. It was clear,blue,with a bright,healthy sun,with a few wispy clouds. Then he noticed some smoke. "What in the world...?" His home was nearby. He ducked into his home,absorbed the wine bottle,and deposited the money into his lockbox. Afterward,he absorbed the bag. He left his home via the attached garage. It had a pair of axels,a drivetrain,and four wheels within. He was making himself a car. He spent some mass to make a bycicle,and rode out,seeking the source of the smoke.


He wanted to find the source because,quite frankly,he wanted some mass. If he got there before the authorities,he'd be able to absorb all he needed,and get out to put some more work into his car.
 
Gear bent down, setting her still attached hand in the blood before pulling the sword out of her useless one. Shoving it back into it's cane holster, she turned. Wavering a tiny bit, she knew she wasn't going to be going much longer. Nodding her head to the man who had basically saved her, she moved back towards her bike.


Completely ignoring the fact, and trying hard not to go into shock, she moved through motions. Turning the motorcycle on, she sat there for a moment, before realizing how stupid it was to even try.
 
Domonic arrived on the scene and saw a young woman,with outlandish make-up,and a cane,on a motorcycle,and a man nearby. The area was thoroughly torched,and he could put two-and-two together;it was arson,and these two done it.


Then he noticed the arm on the ground. It was chalk white,with bloody footprints leading to the woman,who also had chalk white skin. He leapt off his bike,and ran to the woman,saying, "What the hell happened!? How can I help??" He needed these two off the scene as quickly as possible;he wanted to gather mass in peace.
 
At the voice, Gear snapped her head up, and just stared at him. It was almost like she wasn't even looking at him, but rather through. Shaking her head, she returned to staring down at the controls, a frown forming. She needed to get back to Nightwing...because he would know what to do, right?


Realizing that he had spoken to her, her frown deepened. How the hell did you explain what just happened? When she had no idea...
 
Damn it...I'm going to have to do it... "I hope you have nothing against supers..." Domonic picked up the dismembered arm,and began to absorb it's mass. From stump to finger,it shrank away,turning gray,tearing off,and flying into his own arm. After a second or so,the severed arm was gone. He pushed himself past the man,and absorbed some wreckage. His legs felt strained;he was approaching critical mass.


He approached the woman,and said, "I'm going to need to consume your arm,so I can tell how heavy it is. This is so I can make your new arm the same weight,and keep you balanced. It will be painless." Domonic didn't wait for confirmation,or ascent. He simply taken the arm. Starting at the fingertips,the flesh turned gray,and was torn of,piece by piece. It was painless;the nerves were taken first. When he taken up to the point her other arm was taken,he immediately began to replace the arm he taken. He hovered his hand over the stump,and warned, "This,however,WILL hurt,but only to start."


Dom gripped the stump,and then the woman's arm began to form onto it. It first looked like papier mache,then it solidified,and then it coloured itself. Then,he added her accessories. He even added the lost blood,but it would take a while for that to take effect. He stepped back after he finished,and looked at his hands,which were covered in blood. After a moment,they were clean,absorbed into his body. "How do you feel?"
 
Not even registering what was going on until a sharp sudden pain filled her arm before dying out. Shifting her eyes to what he was doing, she watched the whole thing reform. Looking at it, she watched the colour go from her normal skin tone, to the white from the rest of the arm extending downwards and covering over it again. When he spoke, she looked at him, blinked a few times, before looking down at her arm, almost as if she was just seeing things induced from blood loss, or maybe that she'd died.


The only clue that she wasn't, was the blood still on the ground, and the softly puring engine beneath her. Staring at him, she just shook her head.
 
Maddox smirked. "Don't worry. It's real. Nothing new. Just an arm." He walked to the pool of blood,and absorbed it. The presence of blood would be cause for investigation. He looked at the woman,and the man. "So,you two here for any particular reason?" He put his hand to the ground,and made a bench,then sat on it. There was enough room for the others to sit,as well. "Or do you two find arson romantic?" He shrugged. "I'm not judging. Just trying to get some context."
 
Keeping her eyes on the man, they flickered once to the other guy, and she frowned. "I don't know him." She said quietly, and quickly. Flexing her fingers, she stared down at them for a moment before debating on running. On a strange thing of judgement, she shut the bike off and turned herself towards the man on the bench. "And it's not arson."
 
Maddox quirked an eyebrow. "Interesting. Isn't arson the deliberate burning of property,resulting in it's damage and/or destruction? But,hey,semantics." He looked around. "No jerry cans. A slow burn?" He looked at the woman again. "...Or pyromancy? It's nice to meet a fellow 'super'." I need an alias... Domonic stood up,approached the woman,and offered his right hand,after gloving it with his powers. "I'm known as the Architect. Pleasure to meet you."
 
Staring at his hand as he came close to her, she looked back up at him, not even touching the hand. "It wasn't completely deliberate. Nothing is on fire. It's not arson." Looking down at his hand again, she frowned deeply, not even responding to his greeting.
 
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