“Wait it isn’t? Why blame us then? This sucks… Lazy people really get nothing done.”
Adelaide paused, an idea brewing. “Hey, is there a chance we could talk to them privately? If they really want to get stuff done, we-” Coughing over the word, she carried on. “I could handle it.”
OOC: I was thinking of the wire as 15ish feet away, so the shove, even with the virtually nonexistent resistance, wouldn’t be generating enough force to carry Geosh or switchblade that far. By your post it seems you were thinking it was closer, that probably is my fault for not describing it’s placement well, but I thought I’d clear that up.
IC: Geosh felt virtually no resistance as he “banged” into switchblade. “That was a lot softer than I was hoping.” Geosh thought, “Crap! I’m not between the bladey-thing and the case anymore.”
OOC:
Then how the heck do you expect average-strength Geosh lumbering around in a suit of armour to push an eight foot pile of metal scraps fifteen feet in a single shove
Really if the wire is conveniently fifteen feet away as soon as Geosh is in risk of hitting it, you should be keeping its location in mind with all character actions, not just the inconvenient ones
IC:
No, he wasn’t, in fact.
With Geosh out of the way, Switchblade collapsed his mass in a tidal wave of metal onto the box, already beginning to magnetize it into his form. It snapped shut again inside his body and he turned a malicious grin upon Geosh, who was now stuck between Switchblade and the dangerous wire.
“Game over.” He hissed. “Or do you really think you can fish my prize away from me now?”
Lauren shoots her a glare. “Sure, you could probably talk to them in private. Could you accomplish something? Eh.” She shrugs.
Geosh was pretty sure switchblade wasn’t going to run with the case; he was pretty certain switchblade was gonna try and kill him first. If switchblade did come after Geosh, he would try to lead him to the cord, if not, then oh well. Geosh had no real investment in the case other than being curious.
Switchblade towered over Geosh for a moment or two, the malicious grin still plastered across his face. It slowly turned into a scowl when he realized Geosh wasn’t doing anything.
Something swirled around in his mass, and out from his form flew the case. Open, empty, and considerably scuffed. The constant moving of metal slowed considerably.
“Do you know who Daybreak is?” Switchblade hissed, something moving up inside his form. “There is every reason to believe he is the Son of Superman. Powers, strength, general age, it all fits. And this,” The object in his form slithered across metal shards to his hand, revealing itself to be the foam; even with the incredible amount of caution displayed, it was deeply lined with cuts. “Is the reason I concocted an elaborate and now unnecessary scheme to track the Luthor campaign bus.”
Bringing it to his chest, Switchblade carefully and surgically removed a hole from the foam. Turning it around, Geosh could see the reflection of glass coupled with an incredibly thin splinter of glowing green crystal.
“Kryptonite.”
Switchblade moved swiftly, shoving the foam package into his mouth before lunging towards the window. He had to move fast lest Geosh manage to get in front of him, and attempt to prevent him from escaping… If he could withstand that much moving metal at once.
On the street outside, it was entirely deserted save one older pedestrian reading the Daily Planet who seemed to be oblivious to the commotion.
Geosh had never heard of daybreak, and now that he knew about the contents of the case, at least mostly, Geosh was content to let it go. After all, kryptonite was relatively harmless to humans. So Geosh just watched switchblade leave.
Piling out the window, Switchblade aimed for the open manhole he had exited and in one dive cleared the entrance, his massive form slimming out into a long curve.
Geosh might have noticed the one civilian immediately turn around and walk in the general direction of a subway entrance.
The way the civilian’s actions were so sudden seemed a bit odd to Geosh.
“Not like I’ve got anything I need to do right now…” he thought “I guess I’ll follow him and see what’s up.”
Mark led the way through the corridor, and kept at Iosif’s pace, but let him walk on his own as he clearly wished to. Opening a door into another corridor, Mark soon brought the boy to some kind of dining hall, which was currently pretty much empty. “Just wait here a second, I’ll be right back with that water.” He reassured, before turning and heading through another set of doors that assumedly led to the kitchen, if the sounds and smells reaching Iosif from even here were anything to go by.
As the leader’s movements were relatively slow, Gideon is successfully able to duck under him, leaving him to grope at open air with a growl of frustration, trying to reach down and make another attempt at grabbing the slippery metahuman.
None of the faces gathered with him seemed to ring any bells, though some stood out more than others. Inamongst their number was a pair of identical twins, a girl with long red hair almost as out of control as a real fire, and a disconcertingly insectoid-looking man. After a few moments of uncomfortable silence, a speaker crackled into life from somewhere overhead, “I imagine you’re all wondering why you’ve been brought here, and the reason is simple: I needed a group of lowlifes that nobody was going to miss.”
Mosh Pit’s eyes narrowed with rage, “Oh yeah? And who the hell are you supposed to be?” He snarled.
With that, a holographic screen flickered into life, bearing the image of a wiry middle-aged man with with a beak-like nose and eyes hidden behind the glare of rounded spectacles, “My name is none of your concern, but you may call me the Black King. And your king has a quest for you.”
“You have a very high opinion of yourself, ‘king’,” Khan says, staring directly into the screen (or a camera, if one is visible). “I must be honest, I care not for ‘quests’ handed down by those arrogant enough to call themselves ‘kings’. However, if you are offering a path from this cage, then I cannot ignore it.”
OOC:
So I was originally aiming to punch him but uh, it looks like I forgot to state my intent
Whoops
IC:
Gideon responded by leaping up and aiming his knee directly towards the ruffian’s nose. It would tick him off, sure, probably make him call for backup.
But what’s important right now is stopping him from turning me into a tent stake. And yelling at myself later.
While the smells were good, Iosif’s appetite wasn’t improved by throwing up just a minute ago. He leaned his arm against a table, hoping it didn’t retract or break from under the minimal pressure.
Of course the water could always be poisoned. He looked about for any outlets without making an obvious effort.
Geosh’s attempts to follow him were mostly unfruitful. Upon descending the subway stairs, the mysterious figure was absolutely nowhere in sight. However, if he listened closely, he might hear…
“…”
“…Luthor. He was right, there’s two…”
“…Tomorrow. The hall-”
There was a sudden scuffling sound and two clicks of shoes against concrete. Then, silence.
Geosh couldn’t find the guy, and as he turned around to leave he heard faint voices. “Luthor… why does he seem to be mixed up in everything today?” Geosh wondered as he went the direction that he thought the voices had come from.
A cold, sharp laugh bursts from the speakers, before the ‘King’ regains control of his face, “Bold words for a pawn I could kill where he stands. But what’s a little banter among colleagues?”
The screen suddenly changes, the man’s face replaced with a distinctive and, to many of the inmates, recognisable, insignia:
“Intergang.” The King remarked, for anyone who happened to be living under a rock, “A dangerous, but necessary cog in the criminal machine, notable for using all manner of alien technology, particularly Apokoliptian. I don’t normally involve myself with such matters, but recently they stepped over the line, and intercepted a military convoy carrying incredibly precious cargo: a Mother Box.”
The screen changed again, to display the device:
“This technology comes from the New Gods, and so despite fitting into the palm of your hand, it possesses unimaginable power. We’re not yet sure who it belonged to, but the important thing is that it’s here, and as long as it remains it will be a threat to national security. If this device came into the wrong hands, all manner of chaos could be sown. Your mission is to infiltrate Intergang’s headquarters here in Metropolis, retrieve the Mother Box, and bring it back to me. In the event that this isn’t possible, you must do everything you can to destroy it. However, keep in mind that so far all our attempts to do the same have been fruitless.”
“So let me get this straight,” One of the other inmates piped up, “You want us to stroll in under Bruno Manheim’s nose, grab an alien superweapon, and then come give it to you?”
“You will be compensated for your efforts, of course. Provided you’re successful, I’ll be sure to get your sentences shortened, and get you on parole earlier still.”
As his knee connected, Gideon would hear a sickening crack, the criminal swearing loudly as he stumbled backwards, clutching his nose. He glared in the direction of his hapless subordinates, “Don’d jusd sdand dhere, helb me!” He snapped, as blood began to seep out from between his palms. They stayed exactly where they were. The leader growled in frustration, “Fine, jusd ged in dhe druck, shobkeeb brobably already called dhe cobs!” He decided, lumbering towards it himself, before his two minions scramble to do the same.
A few moments later, Mark returned with the water, handing it to him with a smile, “There you go kiddo. Need anything else?”
Gideon dusted off his shirt with a scowl at the gang as they departed. There was no reason to chase them; the minimal stuff they would get away with was not worth grabbing onto their truck and attempting to puncture a tire.
Instead, he decided to stand there and scowl at them until they left. Unless they try to run me over. Then I’m kicking their windshield in.
No outlets. Rats.
Iosif shook his head slowly as he looked at the water for what felt like half an hour and was only about thirty seconds. He very cautiously drank a small amount of it and was instantly reminded of the taste of stomach acid.
Rubbing his mouth to hide his lip curling up in repulsion, he downed the rest of the glass in one gulp, which didn’t seem to be the most effective at cleansing one’s mouth… Or drinking water. Trying not to cough, he looked suspiciously out of the top of his eyes at the smiling Mark.
So if this is spiked, I should have about an hour. Hopefully I’ll receive some warnings before then.
It was the men’s restroom. The door was swinging as he walked up to it. No sound from the inside; very likely whoever was speaking had quietly ducked out when they realized Geosh was there.
No sign of anyone around, and the next subway train wasn’t scheduled until an hour from now. Nothing could have pointed more clearly to a complicated web of intrigue, and yet with so little strings to follow.
They seemed to have gotten the idea by now, as their truck screeched away from him as fast as possible. Inside, the shop staff started to nervously inch their way towards the door, a few of them going to reclaim their near-pilfered goods. Meanwhile, a rather out of shape old man who seemed to be the owner ran his way over to Gideon, clasping his golden hand in both of his and shaking it vigorously, “Thank you sir, thank you so much - if it weren’t for you, those thugs woulda cleaned out my whole store! I-is there anything I can do to repay you? I can’t offer much, but I’m sure we could work something out…” He panted, slightly out of breath from even that light sprint.
Mark stood in slightly awkward silence as he waited for the kid to drink it, before lightly prodding him with “Go on now, it won’t bite.”
“Hey, careful now,” Mark warned as Iosif went at it a lot more enthusiastically than expected, “We don’t want you to choke. There, is that a little better?”
“Where’d they go? Do I really have to play hide and seek?” Geosh thought as he started to look around outside the restroom. “Maybe I should put up my armor… just in case.”
It didn’t seem necessary. There was no sign of life anywhere in Geosh’s line of sight or range of hearing down in the underground terminal. However, there was some mild commotion up above, and people mumbling into their phones began to descend to await the slow arrival of the next train.
The figure had given Geosh the slip, Switchblade had gotten the kryptonite with an insanely involved plan, and the only thing left over was questions.
Iosif nodded once and looked back down into the bottom of the glass. I could break this and jab the base underneath his jaw until he choked out. He cautiously set the glass on the table he had been leaning on.
Just an option.
With his free hand Gideon adjusted his collar and beamed a golden smirk down upon the old man.
“Heroes don’t ask for reimbursement.” He politely retracted the hand the shop owner had wrung so violently. “And neither do I. Your safety is my reward.”
He went over to the curb, brushed aside the trash, and breathed a sigh of relief to find his phone un-stepped-on. “These hoodlums may decide to come back, you know.” I feel like such a selfish… Selfisher. That’s a word now. He scribbled out his phone number on a piece of paper with a pencil so heavily used there was barely anything left of it. “Call me if they ever try to harass you again.”
“Good.” He nods back with a small smile, “Now, you’re a bright kid, so I’m sure you can-”
Mark was suddenly interrupted by a loud slam of one of the doors into the cafeteria, and something whizzed into and around the room so fast it was nothing but a blur, giggling and whooping the whole time as a gust of air was whipped up in its wake.
“Oh bless you, sir, bless you!” The owner praised with a grateful fervor, “There’s not many masks that make their way down here, even Daybreak steers clear of us.”
“They ain’t the only ones.” He sighed grimly, “The streets are full of these punks now, all jumped up on that Snakebite stuff… But if any more do come along, I’ll be sure to give you a call.”
Am I about to pass out?
…No? Okay.
Iosif slid backwards, jumping into combat position and trying desperately to not completely lose his spacial awareness. His eyes very slowly marked the direction of the air, which didn’t seem to help in any capacity because whatever was causing it was moving entirely at random.
Wait… Iosif became visibly confused as his mind finally recognized the input of sound. That… That’s a voice.
“I’ll see you around, then.”
With a casual salute and a smile, Gideon marched down the street in the direction he had come.
…And that means I’ll have to scratch the likeliest candidate for accepting my resume. It’s not like I can make it super pretty when I don’t even have a computer. For the love of peace, I wish there were some ACTUAL masks who could do this work for a change. What if I don’t want to devote myself to everyone who’s in danger?
Rounding a corner, Gideon locked his jaw and forced the gold to retract from his skin. I guess my real superpower is becoming vulnerable. Maybe I don’t really have that much of a choice in the rest of my life…
…
Or maybe I can stop being a moody teenager.
