Realistic or Modern The Amalgam Universe: A New Crusade {IC}

[noxrequiem]

Cordelia was weirded out. Yeah, something was definitely off. Very off. And it wasn’t just the purple eyes, either.

Still, she had no time to question it, with bullets whizzing dangerously close past her. Wordlessly, she nodded, grabbing Lucas’s arm and making it back to the private stairwell, half dragging him and Eris along. Cordelia was grateful for the smoke screen, it meant she didn’t have to use her powers, for now. And the stairway was still empty, thankfully. Seemed like the cops might not have even known about it.

They all but sprint down the stairs, making it to the ground floor in what felt like a manner of seconds. The hallway was still dark and empty. Good. She essentially drags Lucas behind her, still not speaking a single word to him, to a side door different from the one they had come in from. She pauses in front of it, taking a deep breath as she closed her eyes. Reaching out with her powers, she could sense the crowds outside. While this side of the building outside was momentarily empty, the cops were still nearby, cordoning off the area. This was going to be tricky, but she could make it work.

Cloaking herself in an aura of “don’t look at me,” she opened the door and slipped outside, Lucas’s arm still in her grip. Staying close to the wall they slipped around one side of the building, towards where the evacuated clubgoers were congregating. She was probably overextending herself, using her powers like this on such a broad scale. The crowds and the commotion were making her head pound, and the tension from her clenched jaw wasn’t doing anything to help, either. It was beginning to feel like there was an icepick in her brain, but she reminded herself that it was just a little longer. Just get out of here and then I can relax.

Thankfully, it seemed most of the cops had their hands full and wouldn’t have noticed them anyway. And despite her rather odd choice of outfit, nobody gave her too much of a second look. And if they did, well, she was already gone. As they made their approach towards the crowd of civilians, Cordelia let go of Lucas, giving him a soft shove towards the crowd and silently slipping away before he—or Eris, really—could react.

…​

Cordelia was back in the motel parking lot, next to her rental car. She slipped into the driver’s seat, taking just a moment to catch her breath. She didn’t bother starting the car—she wasn’t driving it home. No, instead she would just leave it parked here overnight. No need to bring it to her apartment and risk even the slightest chance of anyone making any kind of connection here. She would just come back and retrieve it in the morning.

Lowering the hood from her form-fitting jacket, she then slipped the mask from her face, glancing at her reflection in the car’s rear-view mirror. Her makeup from when she had been staking out the club earlier had smeared a bit, dark eyeliner smudged below her lower lids. It made her look just as exhausted as she felt. Using the back of her hand, she tried to rub it away, ultimately not caring how good of a job she did. With a loud, exhausted sigh she reached into the back where her duffle bag was tucked away and pulled out a bottle of prescription strength painkillers. Fast acting, supposedly. She hoped that was true as she popped a couple into her mouth. She washed the pills down with a sip from a metal flask, the bitter taste of alcohol burning her throat. She quickly tossed the flask back into her bag before she gave into the temptation of another sip. That could wait till later.

Forcing herself to move, she quickly and discreetly slipped out of the suit, leaving one identity behind for another. She threw on a hoodie and a pair of track pants, now looking like someone who had just left from their nightly workout. She zipped the bag up again and pulled it out of the car with her.

For a moment she considered just calling a taxi, but ultimately decided against it. Her apartment wasn’t too far away; it was maybe a little over a half hour walk. Plus her mind was still reeling from tonight’s events, and she always did her best thinking on her feet. And, boy, was there a lot to think about. Better to get it out of the way now, or she’d just be up all night pacing around her apartment.

With a rather loud sigh she didn’t bother to even try and hide, she slung the black duffle bag over her shoulder and began making the long trek back to her apartment, her mind going over every detail of the night all the while.


myrkwise

 

[Strategos]

Steve Rookstone - Mayor of Arkham

---

A jet black motorcycle sped across the dark streets of Arkham city, a man draped in a tight-fitting suit with a purple tie riding on the vehicle as the khahki coat he slung over his shoulders billowed like a cape behind him. Parking close to the building too near to the police tape, two police officers were about to direct him away before the man lifted his helmet and tossed it to one of the awe-struck officers, “Would you be so kind to keep an eye on my bike? Thank you.”.

Walking through the police lines, he walked up the commander barking orders before grabbing the loudspeaker from his hands with a sudden and remarkable force, fast enough to startle the commander. Before he could retort in anger, a glance at the man’s face silenced his tongue as he stepped back.
Using the bullhorn, he shouted with a deep and bellowing voice heard throughout the vicinity, loud enough that even those within the building was in earshot.
“THIS IS STEVE ROOKSTONE, ALL OFFICERS EXERCISE RESTRAIN AND HOLD FIRE UNTIL I SAY OTHERWISE. NO ONE IS GOING ANYWHERE UNTIL WE SECURE ALL CIVILIANS INSIDE”, his voice cutting through the gunfire, confident and almost hypnotising. Rookstone, a well-respected mayor, beloved or feared, his authority is absolute - evident by the fact that his voice alone suppressed dozens of assault rifles from shooting another round. He stared at the Commanding Officer in the eyes and stated sternly, “You are not authorized to hunt them down. They are our allies - start treating them like it.”, as he tossed back the bullhorn to the humiliated CO.

As the crowd watching the scene unfold behind the barricade tape heard the mayor’s voice they roared to life with cheers and shouts - the mayor of Arkham city itself has arrived to protect them, or so they thought. They cheered for the mayor and the vigilantes, even the ones now long gone to escape the prosecution of the police force.
The mayor approached the crowd and calmed them down, his presence drawing phones out of their pockets as he calmed the people. A young girl, no more than 17 years of age who entered the club, was visibly shook by the event. He took his coat off his shoulders and draped it over her, a gesture many took pictures of, boosting his already outstanding public reputation.
He then turned around and left the scene to law enforcement, the crowd cheering him on as a line of officers blocked the ever-growing mass of people from crowding too close to the cars and vans.

Though despite what it seems, he didn’t come here just for a PR boost or to help his vigilante friends - though the image of a “Hero mayor valiantly defending his citizens and helping the heroes of Arkham City” would most definitely help in his re-election. As he went down a nearby alleyway, making sure he wasn’t spotted nor followed, he pulled out something from his pocket and “dropped” an item as it rolled over behind a dumpster. As he bent down to pick it up, he looked behind the rather inconspicuous dumpster and found a pristine white envelope, exactly where he expected it to be.
While still bent over, his own body obscuring the vision of anyone who would be watching, he pocketed the envelope into the inside of his suit pocket and began walking back to his motorcycle with a smile, as he put on his leather gloves.

He pressed send on a pre-typed text to a number before snapping the phone in half and chucking the burner phone into a passing garbage bin.
Only he would know the contents of the text message, well, him and the man on the other side of the line - “The package is secured”.

As he walked back to his motorcycle, the officer stood at attention and handed him his helmet, “Relax, I’m a public servant just like you. Keep up the great work fellas, you’re the heroes this city deserves” he said, as he saluted them and drove on into the night, grinning underneath the helmet knowing that the chip that could expose his connections with the underworld is safe in his possession.

snakeg0dd Nellancholy SpazTheButcher noxrequiem R U S T myrkwise