May 2, 2015: Roxy catches up with Caitlin and Superman pantses people.


Downtown Metropolis



  • IO Merc dudes

Mood Music:

The center of Metropolis, a true…well, metropolis. A couple blocks up from the Daily Planet building is the Jittering Bean, stalwart of the Metropolis Hipster Coffee scene. "Ugh," Roxy says as she enters. "Won't get this smell out." She's dressed in a leather jacket and a pair of tattered low-rider jeans, along with stomping boots. It's not the kind of place she's usually go to, but once she finally got that letter back from Caitlin, she had to pick an easy place to meet. This counts.

Little does she know that her clever 'use the mail to avoiding being watched' plan didn't quite work out. Up on the roof of a building opposite, a small squad of mercenaries watch and prepare.

Caitlin agreed to meet Roxy, of course, but she doesn't really know why Roxy wanted to meet. Frankly, the redhead is wary — not of Roxy, per se, but of everything and everyone associated with Project: Genesis. Her departure from the project was less than cordial, really. But she's here, and somewhat more understated, perhaps, than Roxy. It's hard for Caitlin to manage attention between her height and other aspects of her form, but she tries: a thick green sweater and long skirt that covers her legs down to her sensible shoes. She sits in a booth in the back corner of the shop, a mug of tea on the table before her, a book open in her hand, but her eyes flicking toward the entrance every time the door opens. When she sees Roxy she nods slightly to acknowledge the younger girl's presence. That's all.

Clark Kent, coming up on a deadline, needs to make appearances and there's nothing writers at Daily Planet like to do like drink coffee. It does nothing for him physically, but walking in with a cup of joe furthers the role he plays in his attempt to have a normal life. Currently, he's waiting in line and his mind wanders as he watches the drinks being made.

The difficulty with the environment gets dropped to the back of Roxy's problems. Caitlin's here! Already! Wow, she hasn't changed at all. The shorter young woman heads straight for the table, sliding in and giving Fairchild an intense look, one she can't match with the tone of her voice. "What up, Cait," she says. It's not nearly as calm as she'd like it to be. "Liking the east? Way too wet. I need some sun. See how pale I am?" she asks, holding out a, yes, rather pale arm.

Across the street there's further motion, as the sniper of the team sets up and a round CLICKS into the chamber.

"I've been living in New Jersey for three years," Caitlin points out as she blinks at Roxy through thick glasses that she no longer needs. "It's not usually this wet. Well. I suppose it is at this time of year, but April's over. You know what they say. April showers bring May flowers!" She pauses minutely — not even enough time for her to take a breath. "And Mayflowers bring pilgrims, of course." Somebody is a nervous talker, hmmm? Her eyes shift to Roxy's arm as she takes her mug in her hands and clutches it. Not quite tightly enough to break the ceramic — though it's probably a close thing. "It'll warm up very soon," she assures the other girl. Roxy's not calm? In comparison to Caitlin she's cool as a moose.

It's an Oregon thing.

Clark turns to look over his shoulder and out the window as he hears the CLICK of the round into the chamber. His blue eyes look out over the top of his thick glasses as he peers 'through' the wall and towards the sound of the weaponry. His eyebrows come together in determination as he realizes something is wrong here. He begins shoving his way, awkwardly, through the long line of people as he tries to get out the door without being too conspicuous, all the while keeping his eyes up across the street.

The dye-jobbed girl nods a few times. "Right, right. That long. You never call, you never write," she says, waving her arms. "Have you even heard from any of the others?" she asks, and here her tone's turning distinctly more seriously. "Aunt and Uncle?" she asks. "'Cause my mom…" Here Roxy notices the guy shoving his way towards the door. "The crap is his problem?" Roxy asks.

Right about at that moment, a red dot moves across the back of Roxy's head.

Caitlin peers at Roxy across the table, uncertain at first what to say, because… well, she's not exactly what one would call a social person. In high school she was voted most likely to become a crazy cat lady and/or librarian. Given the severe bun that her hair's been gathered into, the latter is probably not all that far off. "I haven't heard from them," she says. Which is probably the best way to say 'I never gave anybody my address or phone number' that she has. She glances toward Clark, is about to shrug it off, when she notices a flicker of light, just before that dot appears in its intended location. "Down!" She launches herself across the table, spilling her tea and crushing the mug to dust in the process, and putting herself between Roxy and the dot.

When Clark gets to the door he realizes that time is slipping away. He moves quickly, more quickly than the eye can see and hopes the hat and coat has kept him sufficiently hidden. The items are quickly discarded in a WHOOOOOOSH of air and superspeed. In a more familiar garb now, Superman digs a toe into the ground and launches himself upward towards the gunman, fist outstretched, looking to punch away the gun should he get there in time.

Most likely to be psycho too! Roxy acks as Caitlin dives across the table, crushing the mug under her bulk, sending tea all over the table. Roxy's just begining to suffuse with a purple glow when Caitlin hits her, shoving her out of her chair and sending both of them tumbling to the floor.

Fairchild's antics turn out to be unnecessary. By amazing happenstance, Superman's on the scene. He hits the gun and it fire, sending a bullet off arcing over metropolis to lodge in a building across town. The mercenaries are in grey, unmarked body armor, rather anonymous. "Superman!" one of them declares. "Told you we couldn't do this here!" another answers.

The sound of the gun should carry down to their level, at least — and give Roxy the hint that perhaps there's a reason for Caitlin's actions. "They were shooting at YOU," she hisses at Roxy. "Dammit, we need to get out of here." Caitlin has been very, very wary — and here is the evidence that makes her fears real. Some part of her feels vindicated. Most of her is terrified. Sure, the gun wouldn't have done a thing to her, but that's not the point! "The back," she says, pulling Roxy up and dragging her toward the counter. "Out the back."

Superman reaches to the gun and easily bend it in half and discards it towards the side as he stalks towards them with an angry look on his face. "I'm going to give you," he begins as his eyes begin to turn a shade of red, then reddish orange as they look as they're about to flare out. "…one chance to make the right decision."

"Totes!" Roxy agrees, as she gets herself up from underneath Fairchild. Something redundant, actually, since the big woman's grabbing the much smaller girl by the hand, barging her way towards the back.

Up on the building, two of the mercenaries are already scattering, running for the nearest ladder. Two more are backing away more slowly, and the final one, the shooter, he glares at Superman. "You can't
be everywhere," he hisses, before turning and breaking into a run.

Caitlin pushes past the baristas and through the door into the rear of the coffee shop. They are yelling, of course — they're not supposed to go back there! But Caitlin doesn't much care. There are more
important factors at work here, and while she knows that first bullet didn't break the window like it should have, she doesn't actually know why — and the hitman could be anywhere. So she kicks down
the back door of the shop — quite literally — and drags Roxy out into the alley in back.

Her skirt snags on a twisted bit of a broken hinge as she pulls Roxy through the door. It rips the garment from hip to ankle, which might be more stylish, but Caitlin hasn't noticed yet. When she does
she'll be terribly embarassed.

Criminals. They never learn.

Before people start getting too close to the edge Superman lets out a mighty blast of breath from deep within his longs. The shot comes quick but ill-sustained. The move is clearly an attempt to knock the
foes off their feet. Even so, Superman readies to catch anyone who might go over the edge.

"Cait," Roxy says, "CAIT!" she calls, as the two of them get drug into the back alley. "Did somebody actually try to kill us!?" she declares. Caitlin probably notices she's floating now, legs slightly
tucked, arms failing. "It's them! It's the Project!" she says, a look of terror in her eyes, but somehow…did she know?

The first mercenaries, they've made it to the ladder and are probably long gone, unless a certain flying kryptonian goes after them. His breath creats a huge shock wave, and sends the remaining three
scattering across the roof top. One's fumbling for his pistol, but can't get it out as he flies through the air.

"No," says Caitlin. "Somebody tried to kill YOU. Of COURSE it's the Project." How does she know it's just Roxy they were trying to kill? Because they would've brought something a lot more powerful than
bullets to take her down. The Project's management is evil, ruthless and willing to do nearly anything to get what they want — but they are not stupid people.

"Feet on the ground, Roxy," she says, not surprised by the floating, but it's not the best moment to stand out in a crowd. She pauses a moment, considering the punky young woman, then whips the hairband
off her head and pushing it down on Roxy's before shucking off her sweater. There's a blouse beneath, but even as she pulls her sweater off the top button goes flying. "Put this on. It's so not you
they may not realize who's wearing it."

Superman sighs and begins to shake his head incredulously. Clearly the Man of Steel is irritated. At superspeeds he aims a kick at the man with the pistol and his wrist, trying to knock the pistol loose.
After that, he begins zipping around at speeds faster than men can even see, readying to apprehend as many as he can get and tie them as a group to a telephone pole. With their pants.

"Secret's out, Cait! We gotta leg it!" she says. That gets a look on Roxy's face, one of bemusement, "Speaking of which," she says, pointing at Caitlin's torn skirt. She's attacked with headband and sweater both, one shoved on her and the other shoved into her hands. "This is a terrible disguise," she says as she squirms the sweater over her head.

Superman, unsurprisingly, has made short work of the mercenaries, as the pistol gets kicked away and trousers become a hoist. In the time it's taken him to set it up, Roxy and Caitlin have gotten their clothes change - Roxy's practically swimming in the sweater - and started to make down the alley, far enough for Roxy to spot a big red cape. "Hey, Superman," she says, nudging Caitlin.

"You have a better id…" Caitlin starts to demand before Roxy nudges her and she looks skyward, and then toward the street. Her eyes narrow at the men attached to the telephone pole. Pantsless though they may be, Caitlin is ticked. Scared and ticked. "It's better than nothing," she finishes as she takes her sweater back and storms toward Superman and his captives.

"Which of you was it?!" she demands of the men tied to the pole. "Which one of you tried to kill her, you cowards?!" A librarian with a serious mad-on. Somebody just yelled in her library.

Superman might as well be brushing the dirt off his hands. As Roxy mentions him, he smiles at her and raises both eyebrows as Caitlyn looks as though she's going to put a fist through someone. "Ma'am,"

Superman begins warily taking a stop to try and put himself in between the redhead and the shooter. "It was that man, but he's been apprehended. The authorities will be here shortly."

Roxy shakes her head to that, then notices the men up on the pole. She laughs aloud, a huge guffaw. "Holy crap, you did that?" she asks Big Blue. "Guess you're /not/ an uptight boyscout!" she declares. Roxanne Spaulding, fan of pantsing. In the distance a police siren can be heard - probably further out for some than others. Superman sightings do tend to bring out the police.

"They work for the authorities," Caitlin informs Superman angrily. "They'll be out in three hours." But her eyes cut back toward the man he's just pointed out, and a cold grin appears on her lovely features as she removes her glasses. "About two hours after that, of course, somebody will be putting a bullet in your head for screwing up," she informs the man. "Tell your bosses, though — if they come after Roxy again, they will have to deal with me."

This in the presence of Superman. She turns toward him, now blushing. "Sorry," she says, voice much smaller. And she seems to be on the virge of saying something else, but a bewildered look comes into her eyes that suggests she has absolutely no idea what to say.

Superman's face twists with confusion as Roxy declares he's not an uptight boyscout. Is he offended by the idea that he was considered a boyscout or that he is no longer considered one? It isn't clear.

He turns to Caitlyn, "Well, I can give you my word that I'll keep an eye on them. What do you mean that they'll be out in three hours? Who do they work for?" he asks.

"Right, because people NEVER lie!" Roxy says. Her enamorance with pantsing appears to have passed. "Whoever ran the Project!" Roxy says, not actualy knowing. "Saw plenty of these goons there." They kept security, and kept taking away Roxy's cigarettes, even worse. "C'mon, let's get out of here. How's Miami this time of year?"

"Project Genesis," Caitlin amplifies. She glances back at Roxy. "Roxy, it's Superman. He's not exactly known for lying to people." So far as she knows, anyway. Angry as she is at the hit squad, she's by far the more innocent of the pair. The idea that Superman could be something other than what he seems is beyond her. "We were involved in a government project last year," she explains. "We learned some things that are pretty awkward for the people who ran it." She pauses a moment, looks toward Roxy again. "What were you saying before?" she asks, suddenly concerned. "About your mom?"

Superman makes a sour face. Kind of a catty gal for someone whose life was just saved. He ignores the comment. "Government project?" he says, echoing her. "What do you mean?"

Roxy clearly doesn't believe that, as shows from her face when Caitlin vouches for Supermans' honest. "Totally bull!" she declares. "It was all some sick lie project thing," she says. "Made us…." she thumbs at Fairchild. "She wasn't always an amazon," she says. "C'mon, let's get somewhere /safe/ and I'll tell you."

Caitlin grimaces as Roxy points out her height and physique. Sort of obvious, maybe, but not her favorite thing about herself. And the way her skirt split before isn't helping. "I was a foot shorter and dowdy a year ago," she confirms. "I honestly don't know what they did — but they had all kinds of information about us that I didn't give, certainly, and they didn't want to let us leave. I thought I was an -intern.-" Which makes her blush. How foolish she was. Uttering a sigh, she nods at Roxy. "We'll go somewhere safe," she says. "I'm sorry, Superman — we need to go somewhere they won't find us again any time soon."

"Not a problem. Get somewhere safe. It was nice meeting you two. I'll stay here until the SRD arrives," Superman says throwing a thumb over his shoulder.

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