Door Busters

May 25 2014: Hydra makes a bold daylight move and mall madness ensues

Uptown Commons Mall, NYC

Uptown Commons is a massive three story, marble decked sonnet in perfect iambic pentameter to the acquisition of *things.*



  • Nameless Mooks

Mood Music:

Nancy O'Neal is in a really pissy mood. A mall? Seriously? She's gonna kill her best friend, Paul, for this. She walks along with the big, muscley guy that swans about and gestures like a diva. "No. No. Paul, I am not wearing taffeta in this world or any other. I don't care whose Bar Mitzphah it is."

Malls! Lunair is attempting to be normal. And people in her age group sometimes congregate here. Also, she needs some good, sturdy boots and maybe a nice, big bag to carry her armor in. Because seriously, she needs a henshin sequence or to carry a paper bag for her head. Fights seem to find her, and she feels drawn to fights. It's not good when she's wary of white vans containing men with tranqs strong enough to down Lindsey Lohan after a bender. Her path takes her past delicious, but terrible mall food. She has a large paper bag from a bath shop with her.

Goth girls usually look grumpy. Nancy looks grumpy even from a goth girl perspective. Her muscle bound friend takes her by the hand and pulls her over to a kiosk that has hats. He keeps putting them on her, trying to make her smile. She frowns all the harder till she finally gives in. "Paul! Yer an ass!" She takes off the bonnet fit for Queen Elizabeth. "Take that silly hat off before the sales girl thinks you're gonna buy something, you goon."

Malls are noisy places, especially when busy which this three level paean to capitalism most certainly is. Even so, some noises stand out. From the top level there's a sudden, rapid noise.


Faint at first but growing steadily louder is the distinct sound of the screaming of terrified twentysomethings.

Nancy O'Neal looks up towards the top level of the mall, holding a straw boater on her head. She looks ridiculous, but then, so does her large friend wearing yet another hat more fit for royalty then in a mall. She listens carefully and then calmly puts her hat down on the stand. "C'mon Paul. Let's go try on that dress after all. No, I don't think they'd have it in your size, doofus."

Lunair is more a frill monster. If you sent her back in time, she could've probably camouflaged amongst those frilly velociraptors. Maybe it's a survival thing. It does give her an edge in a fight when you can't tell where Lunair and lace are. Lady Gaga sensei would be proud. Or something. She looks like the Victorian age took her out back and beat her with a wardrobe. Sort of. Nevertheless, she hears sounds. Strange ones.

And hearing screaming. Keeping her bath stuff close, she hurries over. She moves pretty quickly, actually. Like second graders on a downed sugar elemental.

There's definately shouting now in the mix of pants-wetting-terrified screaming. Another sharp set of cracks rings much closer, unmistakable this time as anything but gunfire to any who have ever heard it. On the second level, the deep throated boom of a shootgun rings out. "GET DOWN!" Someone yells. Nancy may be able to see a small knot of men in black tactical gear, one with a shotgun pointed upward, running along the second level, right toward her and the gunplay above her.

Hells bells! And her without her riot gear. Still, she's not nearly as terrified as some of the people here. She acts fast, putting a hand on her friend's head and pushing him to the floor as she too sinks down. All that lugging around of her cello comes in handy sometimes. Under the rack of clothing, Nancy watches the hall of the mall, keeping an eye for any potential threat. With a wry smirk, she realizes that this isn't what she would have done a month ago.

Lunair really wishes she had Calvin's blinky thingy. Or a henshin sequence. Or instant freaking armor because she never finds fights when she has armor at hand. She doesn't seem afraid at all. It's very strange. But then, she seems to have problems expression emotion nonverbally outside of something like hugging someone or hitting them over the head with a shoe (gratitude shoe). She will duck down, kind of scampering along. Hey, the cell phone kiosk is totally legit cover. While video games make crouching look cool, it so looks really dorky. Tactical ducks, really.

Four, five… six men pound by the clothing store Nancy and Paul are taking cover in (cowering is such an extreme word… well, maybe not for Paul) all of them in the same black gear. No marks, no patches, no badges, no identification at all. Most of them carry submachine guns - MP5's if anyone has an eye for that sort of thing.

"THERE HE IS!" Someone shouts just as the men pass the store's front window. Nancy hears something heavy flutter in the air and a deep BOOM as the shotgun goes off again.

From her vantage behind the cell Kiosk across the way, Lunair can see it much better. Running along the top level a man in work pants and a long brown coat, with a cowl covering the lower half of his face, races ahead of a second squad of heavily armed men, ducking as they snap off rounds behind him. When he gets about ten feet from being parallel with the cell stand he twists and vaults over the guard rail, launching himself across the open space between walkways as he falls a full story. The men on the second level turn, caught slightly out of position and one of them looses an off balance shotgun blast which spiderwebs the glass on the railing opposite Lunair. The brown coated man lands in a hard, painful looking roll, but is up on his feet almost immediately. He reaches inside his coat and comes up in an instant with a pair of 9mm Uzi's as he rises.

"DIE NAMELESS!" He shouts as he fills the air with lead, scattering the squad on his level as they duck for cover.

Nancy O'Neal notices another person that is taking the gunfire a little too calmly. Her friend, for all his muscles, has turned into a frightened little girl. Oh brother. Nancy rolls her eyes and smirks. She starts to crawl towards the entrance of the store, staying under the clothing racks. Seeing the men in black, Nancy tries to go through all the secret organizations she was told about. Too many and she is still very new at this whole heroics baloney. Still, this is not something she is prepared for. The best she can hope for is to keep the civilians safe. Back to army crawling back to Paul. She points to the back. "Get yourself in the store room. Take anyone with you you can find. I'll send more people your way. Stay low." When Paul starts to protest, she just gives him a look. "Just go. Trust me!"

Die? Lunair blinks as some guy - holy crap an explosion - some guy goes by. She looks up, just in time to see the man loosing an off balance shot gun and - holy crap! Duck again. Lunair seems uncertain about all of this. Most people don't just have Mp5s. And knowing these things is relevant to Lunair's interests (of course). She seems concerned by the dude who is shooting at the squad.

Ponder. She tilts her head. Thinks it over a moment. What could she do to help maybe. Oh yeah. Pulls out a staff. It's a single, straight stick with a cat orb on the end. It has kitty ears and a tail. And when she swings it low, shockwave at the strange, scattered squad. "I hope they don't have blinky red lights." Its' always men in black.

The moment the squad scatters, the brown coated man takes off again, on a course that'll take him right past Lunair. He is at this point quite clearly visible from the store Nancy is still in. The squad pops back up and brings their weapons to bear just in time to be knocked on their collective tactical asses by Lunair's odd staff. Two hit their heads hard enough to probably put them down for the count A shout of alarm rings out on the level above and, if she looks up Lunair will just be able to see another half dozen men (the ones the coated man ran from to begin with) get online and point a number of very automatic weapons her way.

Nancy O'Neal shakes her head. THis is all getting out of hand way too fast. She considers dialling 911, but realizes that their switchboard is probably lighting up like a christmas tree about now. Her jaw tightens. They seem to be just firing at that guy in the… leather long coat? That guy? Nah, couldn't be. New York is way too big for that sort of coincidence. Still, there are plenty of civilians that are likely to get hurt cause of these schmucks. She army crawls to the next batch of people hiding, giving them instructions on where to go to hide. As she is talking to this bunch, she notices some of the men falling unconcious. Hey! Something that she can help with! She reaches down to her boot and pulls out a bunch of zapstraps. Army crawl some more. Phew! This is getting exhausting. The wrists are bound behind them, rolling the men to their sides. The guns are pushed over towards the wall, far away from the assailants.

Eh? Shouts from - aw, nuts. Lunair pouts faintly. That is a LOT of automatic weapons. Her eyes are wide at them. "Oh snap." That's not good. But that's okay! She's totes got this. She beams, waves (finger wriggle) and pulls out a - railgun! The staff disappears and soon it's time for railgun 'n run. Because she's pretty sure shooting them with a railgun is just doing nothing but making her warm and beloved in their hearts. It's how she makes friends, really.

… and by warm and beloved, they're probably going to try to convert her into a No. 2 pencil (so full of lead!). Shoot and scoot! Shoot and scoot! She scoots comically past into new, less vulnerable from above cover. Hopefully.

The brown coated man notices the same squad. The uzi's tilt up and he starts snapping off short, controlled bursts. Professional, really, the way he moves for cover. He doesn't notice the railgun toting lace-display until the first time she fires. Then he notices her a lot. There is not, to be honest, anything in here that will serve as even remotely adaquate cover from that monster of a gun. It'll go through the hostiles, the wall behind them, the next several walls behind that and probably embed itself in the ground several miles inland so the only deciding factor here really is how good Lunair's aim is.

Nancy, zip tie goth queen, suddenly hears "HEY!" The shotgun wielding squad leader and his still conscious cohorts are eyeing her with a fairly excessive amount of hostility as the weapons come around, the brown coated man momentarily forgotten.

Now that the three unconcious ones are dealt with, Nancy looks around to see how else she can help to keep the civilians safe. She considers calling her senpai but then thinks better of it. Partisan isn't much of one for damage control. She'd likely just make things worse. So, no calling Partisan or 911. Under the stress, even though Nancy herself doesn't realize it, her nullifying field has grown to it's full size, a 10 yard sphere of suckage for any super close enough to feel it. Her eyes dart left and right, wondering what to do and… what the hell? Where did the frilly girl pull that out of? Just don't ask. You don't wanna know. She is about to reach for one of the guns for herself when she hears the shout and looks up. Oh hell. Bulletproof she is not. Nowhere near cover, she hides behind the next best thing, one of the suited men she just zapstrapped.

"Oh. Right. Overkill." Pause. "MY BAD! SORRY! IT SHOULD WASH OUT!" She offers. Lunair, you're not helping. NOT REALLY. She tries to be heroic, but sometimes Lunair either gets too playful, too lethal. It's like a square peg into a roundhole. Although, happily, she is really a good marksman. She does dismiss the railgun. It and its ammunition simply disappear as if they never were. She's quite a forensic nightmare.

And then suddenly a nice lady who is tying people up (is she a queen? Lunair totally learned rope tying from a nice lady wearing leather and spikes once. She figured you HAVE to be really bad ass to run a dungeon because that is how it is in video games. The final boss is always badass. Unfortunately…). Nevertheless. She's gotta be HEROIC! "Hey! Don't pick on unarmed people! That's just rude!" So rude! So very rude! And has only one chance at this. Do you know what time it is?

Kitty staff time! Bowling for mooks! She must really love bowling for elves when Christmas rolls around.

MEOW! That thing packs a punch. Good thing too. Nancy has the perfect seat to see three mooks get slammed into the walls and window display of the dress shop. The one closest to her goes over her head, through the glass and ends up sprawling with a mannequin in a position best described as interesting. All three of them are out cold. There is, for a moment, silence broken only by the terrified whimpering of those who have not already made their getaway.

Oh good. The crazy lady with the gun from out of nowhere (Oh look, it really was from out of nowhere) saved her ass. That is worth a grateful thumbs up. More of the suits fly over head. She looks around to see if it's safe enough to treat these lot with more of the ziptie fun. Hey, she has to do something useful. Paul is peaking out from the store room. "Nan! Are you crazy! Get in here and hide before you get yourself shot!"

It really is out of nowhere! Hammerspace is copyrighted. She beams back. Lunair is trying, even if she forgets she's horribly lethal - or rather, her default tends to be horribly, playfully lethal. Meowch!

Though, she pauses. "I really need one of those mask thingies." She pauses and hides her face a bit. She puts the paper bag on her head, putting a couple of holes in it, and letting her bath supplies into her messenger bag. She listens now, hearing whimpering and looks around. No one seems to be terrorizing anyone…

All is quiet for about fifteen seconds. And then Uzi fire errupts from about ten feet away from Lunair. "GET DOWN!" The brown coated man yells in a voice that, if Nancy has any memory, she may remember. Whether she does or not quickly becomes moot though as a bolt of lightning impacts the safety rail near the cowled man and another arcs past Lunair's head and sends small chunks of marble scattering everywhere. The Uzis run dry and their wielder crouches behind a plushie cart to reload.

A group of four people are approaching at a walk through the now somewhat rubble strewn wreckage of the third level. Two are men, two are women. One of the women has lightning for hair. Pretty good guess she threw those bolts. Of the other three, one of the men looks not unlike Ken from Street Figher, albiet much more military. The other man is sporting a very, very large roatary grenade launcher. The final woman winks down at Lunair and then steps into a shadow and vanishes.

Nancy O'Neal just shakes her head and waves a hand, dismissing her friend's instructions. She has a responsibility. No, not because she has powers. Okay, well, she does, but that ain't the reason. She's responsible because she has the training to not be a quivering little bunny in the face of this. Peachy! Social responsibility in the hands of an anti-social goth girl. What is the world coming to. Since the girl in the frills seems to have some sort of power, Nancy keeps her distance from her. The last thing she wants to do is sap the powers of someone trying to help her not get shot. A… lady with a paper bag on her head? Nancy rolls the unconcious suit guy off of her so she can find more reliable cover. Until the explosion. Duck, cover the back of neck, wish like hell she had her body armor right now. She looks up and notices the electricity for hair and feels a surge of anger. Supers. Oh, how she hates them. Okay, technically, she is one, but that doesn't count. In a moment of anger fueled stupidity, Nancy stands up and starts striding towards them. "Let's level the playing field, shall we?" as she hopes like hell that those people who claim she has a super power are right.

Lunair DOES have powers. She doesn't have time to think about it, as someone shouts get down. She gets down. Not breaks it down. Gets down. She drops to the floor, and looks up just in time to see - ow, marble in the face. She looks in happy as marble scatters all over her. She seems distinctly unhappy. And then looks up, peeking like a meercat over the cover.

Well. Okay, she has to take the paper bag off to really see. "Geez." Not good. Why does she never have armor when this happens? She frets. And then - and then - … a lady winks at her and vanish. Her eyes go really wide. "Okay…" That's ominous. Then, it's GOTH POWER HOUR - there goes Nancy! Or rather, the goth lady. Her eyes go wide. "That's -" Oh boy. Better stick around and help out.

There's a crack of explosives and a section of the third level just falls, the walkway swinging downward to the protest of abused rebar, thudding into the second level and forming a kind of ramp which "Ken" and "Lightning girl continue to walk down. At the top the man with the grenade launcher crouches and takes aim at Lunair.

"Hey Sweetheart." He calls out with a nasty chuckle, and then without another word unleashes a volley of 40mm high explosives at her.

The other two continue at a walk toward Nancy. Electricity crackles in the air, arcing from the approaching woman like a tesla coil. Ken flexes his hands and immediately sprouts what looks like metal throwing knives between all of his fingers, ready to chuck. Shadow-girl is nowhere to be seen. Figures.

"Nan! Are you out of your cotton-pickin' mind?!" The effette gay man with the muscles looks worried, very worried. "I you get yourself killed, I'm never going to forgive you!" Nancy wishes that Paul would shut up right now. She's scared enough as it is. If those people are wrong, if she doesn't have a power to turn off super powers, or if these cape types are magic based, she is screwed. Still, there are innocent people here and these lot don't seem to care and that just doesn't sit well with the goth girl. "Frills! Fire in the hole!"

Regret about not shooting in 5… 4… Her eyes widen as he takes aim and calls to her. Her eyes widen. "I - Hello! OH CRAP!" Flail! He's shooting at her! But fortunately, Lunair has all weapons enabled RL cheatcode. It's a redonk power, really. "Be careful, ma'am!" Bela Lugosi would be proud of her, surely?! Lunair nods at the warning. And she enables her cheat mode. PORTAL GUN! While she gets hit in the lower leg with some friggin' shrapnel (remember: It's never the bullet with your name. It is always the shrapnel marked 'To whom it may concern'.), she growls and looks up.

Time to take aim. She looks annoyed. It's time for return fire. And she does so. By putting a portal behind her and over him. Have at you, sir!
She may as well make a note. Huge success. The grenades tumble into the portal one, two, three, fo- oops. Well, that's where the shrapnel came from. They tumble out the other side and detonate. The grenadier tumbles away fast enough to not get pulped, but not fast enough not to get burnt. He comes up looking murder at her, his right arm hanging uselessly, bloody and blackened.

On Nancy's end, the two toughs approach at a walk. They both cock their arms back about thirty feet out… and then knives seem to just melt away and electricity winks out. She's blonde, as it turns out. "The hell?" The man looks about in alarm. Taking their confusion as an opporunity the brown coated man pops out of cover and opens up on them, sending them both to ground in opposite directions.

Nancy O'Neal sees the powers fizzle and starts to chuckle. Okay, so maybe this whole 'You have powers, Nancy' thing isn't a practical joke. Oh goody. She can totally work with this. She sneers viciously and cracks her knuckles. She closes the distance, or is about to when the leather coat guy starts shooting at them. "You again? Yer just always where the trouble is, ain't ya?"

"In my defense, you were trying to kill me. Right after you called me sweetheart! So dishonest," Headshake. "Or sarcastic. Really sarcastic," Lunair is totally on the analysis here. "…" Pause. And it is a huge success! "But I won't kill you, unless that's what you want," She remarks. She accepts the grenadier. And she seems surprised as Nancy DOESN'T get shivved and electrocuted (although, those seem like a terrible combo).

And who is this leather coat guy? Lunair seems disinclined to interfere, but. "Will you be okay?" She looks worried, ducking as a few bullets fly. She keeps her gun handy though.

Leather coat guy pauses as his targets disappear and seems about to reply to Nancy when Shadow-girl, who looks kinda chinese now that she can be seen again, appears behind him and wraps a rope of darkness around his neck. At the same time the grenadier produces a MAC-10 and goes rock-and-roll on Lunair while the beach-body thug bull rushes Nan.

Nancy O'Neal says, "Hey Jeri-curl. You mind not shooting the people whose faces I'm about to kick in? It's a little rude." The shadow girl appears and attacks the leather coat guy from behind. "On your 6!" she calls out, hoping it's enough time to help, but she has bigger things to worry about, like a hard body rushing her. She answers his rush by doing the same, running for him, but then flattening onto the floor with a leg out at the last minute. "I'll be fine, Frills. Worry bout yer pain in the ass."

Lunair was concerned about the grenadier! She really was… And now he's going all rock-and-roll on her. He didn't even buy her dinner first. THE OUTRAGE! She doesn't have long to be outraged though, narrowly avoiding horrible, penetrating doom. She is not bullet proof, not by a long shot. She flops to the ground, her leg still hurting from earlier. Ow. She manages not to get filled with holes at least.

Annoyed, she dismisses the portal gun. "I really should just kill you." Huff. But no. She's got something worse. Far worse. THE TWERKER. Yes, someone let Lunair play Saint's Row IV. This was a good and a bad idea.

There's the sound of a brief struggle where both ladies know coat-man is. Then: "WOLF OUT!" If either turns there's a crackling hum and a blue field of light springs into existance around him, shaped vaguely like a humanoid lupine. He reaches his arm back and the light mimics his movement, siezing shadow-lady and hurling her off him toward the rubble on the third level. The woman flies under the ramp and vanishes into the shadows there.

Ken goes down, a snap of bone confirming a nasty break in his leg. That'll probably put him out of the fight, but Nancy doesn't have much time to gloat because the blonde has gotten back up and is now close enough to aim a roundhouse kick at her.

The MAC-10 runs dry and reloading it one handed is hard. Double hard when… the hell is that gun the creepy lacy girl just pulled out?

Nancy O'Neal doesn't have time to notice the fight between Jericho and the shadow-lady. But hearing the shout causes her to think one thing. Don't run. Never run from a werewolf. It will get you killed. She hears the crack of breaking bone, barely having time to enjoy her victory over the one assailant when there is a foot flying at her face. She thanks her lucky stars for how hard her mentor has been training her as she lifts her hands up to block her face, grabbing the leg that is aimed for her face and rolling away from the blonde to send her flying.

… wolf out? Lunair definitely likes doggies, maybe wolves are okay. And then some woman goes flying. That is one mean wolfie. Flying seems to be the in thing today. Is Lunair not trendy? Not today. But then, she's odd. The grenadier man gets another glower. "Have at you!" And lo, she fires the Twerker unto him. Some things are worse than death. And this might be one of them. She's going to try to get him before he starts reloading.

So, the gunman was wrong. Reloading with one arm is totally easier than this. He can't seem to get his hips to stop moving. He's got rythem, really, but he's totally exposed… as a target. Not in the other way.

Barbie, as it turns out, is pretty acrobatic. She rolls with the throw, flipping backward to land on her feet again, and moves right back in, aiming a kick at Nancy's gut.

Before Jeri - is that what Nancy called him? - can move to help Shadow-lady reappears. She lashes out with a tentacle of pure shadow, only to have it blocked by the field of light. Jeri lashes out with with the field's clawed hands, but she dances away and slams him in the chest. The field dims just abit, but holds.

Nancy O'Neal's attacks seem to involve letting the assailants attack come at her and using it to her advantage. Now is no different. She grabs the leg coming at her gut again and lets herself fall back to the floor, swinging her own legs around to pin it in a true figure four. None of that fake stuff you see on tv, but really aiming to dislocate the leg. Man, here she is being awesome and her senpai is no where around to see it. So suckage. Laying down on the floor now, holding Barbie's ankle as she lets her thighs put stress on the blonde's hip and knee, she waits to hear that lovely popping noise.

Oh dear. Oh dear. That's what that does. Lunair looks as surprised as he does. "I really should just shoot you. You've been nothing but rude. I gave you every chance to go flee. So …" This is kind of disturbing, actually. She also really has to not laugh. So she is kind of tempted just to leave the poor sap here as he is. She's torn. On one hand, Cal would frown deeply at her outright killing him. Switch guns. Portal gun! Portal on the roof, portal below him. INFINITE LOOP! Might be less disturbing than the twerking. And then to make sure Lady Gothica is okay!

As Lunair turns from the disturbing sight of a twerking man falling endlessly at terminal velocity she hears a loud pop and a scream. Seems Barbie depended on her power for a lot. With now way to electrocute her enemies, the very painful hip dislocation is all it takes to put her down for the count. As she turns she also sees coat man surrounded by a field of vaguely werewolf shaped light - almost like a pencil line art drawing made holographi - and floating within it a foot off the ground. He slams shadow-lady into a well lit patch of floor. With nowhere to vanish to, she gets the wind knocked out of her, stunning her long enough for him to bring massive and wickedly sharp claws down with lethal and messy results.

That pop and scream makes Nancy smile. Oh yeah, that's what she was after. She pushes away from the Barbie girl, rolling onto her feet to double check that the guy whose leg she broke isn't doing something stupid. She takes the time to look this way and that. Do the others need help? Woah, guy falling over and over and… twerking while he does so? Well, can't unsee that! Lovely. She looks to Coat and sees the wolfen shape. She holds her hands out to the side, turning her head away to not watch as he tears out her throat and doesn't move. Friend, not food. Oh, lets hope this werewolf thinks of her as a friend.

Well. That didn't stop his twerking. "Sorry, dude." Maybe they could've been friends in another universe. Lunair isn't sure. But then she hears a loud pop and a scream. She stifles the wince. She leaves the man where he is for now, not dismissing her gun. She pauses. Is that a werewolf kinda guy? She looks over, to witness the other combat. Oh dang. "Ma'am! And - not teen wolf - Mr. Wolf!" Yes, there we go. Good job, Luna. She's got this social skills thing on LOCK DOWN. She also hasn't killed anyone this week. It's a good week. So far. "I'll let him go when um, you have a zip tie or - something …" She looks alarmed as the shadow lady gets totally owned by wolf claws. Yeowch.

Jeri, the brown coat guy, is still absutely visible beneath the blue, glowy, werewolf shaped power fields which fade away moments after the last hostile is down. He looks about and breathes a sigh of relief, nodding his thanks to Nancy and Lunair. He seems about to say something when he's interrupted again, this time by police sirens. "Damn it. That's my cue." He leans down and picks up something from shadow-lady's now cold, dead hands.

"Eagle out." He says. Moments later large, glowy amber wings made again of translucent light burst from his shoulders. They flap and lift him into the air. He turns as he hovers to look back at both women, his eyes now also glowing amber, before takingoff skyward, shattering a skylight on his way up and out.

Meanwhile, in the stockroom of the shop, Paul is on his cellphone. "Hey Frank? Yeah, hi *Frank*. I'm talking to *Frank* right?" There is a pause and he watches out from the crack of the store room door at the distance. "Yeah, I think Project N13 needs to be looked into. I don't know. It doesn't seem so, but she's acting all hero like, doing stuff like walking into danger and keeping civilians safe. It could be nothing. Just thought you should know." Nancy is none the wiser for the conversation. After all, super hearing isn't one of talents. She nods to Luna. "Hey Frills. Nice… umm… work?" She starts to laugh then, pulling a lollipop out of her pocket and popping it in her mouth. Reaching down to her boot, she pulls out a few more zapstraps. "Let's get this bunch tied up and then get you two out of here before the cops show up. Response time shouldn't be more then 5 minutes with bullets flying like that. I just look like a stupid normal person being all kick ass. You two… well… " She looks up as the sirens are heard. "Yeah, run. I've got you covered as best I can." She watches Jericoat fly away. "Well, ain't that sweet. Gets us into a gun fight and then just flies off without even a thank you or an offer to help you escape. Supers can be such pricks."

"…" Lunair blinks at Jeri. "… hey wait, technically that's also my cue. Um. Bye? Thanks?" She seems confused. "… I thought eagles were jerks. They steal your fish …" She seems baffled. "Bye dude!" Well, he seemed okay. Even if he didn't stop to say thanks. She looks to Nancy. "Hi Siouxie and possible her banshees!" Frills. "Thanks. You, too. Are you okay?" She nods. And she'll just - portal the grenadier guy sideways so he slides and can be kicked or tied up easily. She's not cruel enough to break him. "I still think I should've shot him in the face," She states simply.

Lunair, it seems, has no qualms about killing. But she's TRYING. Really hard. And a pause. "But I have powers." She seems baffled. Does Nancy hate her too? Eyebrows furrow. "Um. Yeah. I should probably go. They're gonna ask…" She DID kinda shoot a railgun in here, among other things. Ahem. "Hey. Be careful and stay safe, okay? Bye!" Grab bubble bath and bath stuff. FLEE.

Nancy O'Neal says, "Would you just get your ass outta here, Frills, before the boys in blue have us surrounded? Just remember to get yer next peircing at BodyMods, k?" she says with a wink. She shoos away Lunair and just stands there, waiting for the police, holding her hands up and letting them take her in. She has nothing to hide, after all. Just a normal person that was trying to help civilians not get hurt."

Back to: RP Logs

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 License