Bringing a Chainsaw to a Grenade Fight

May 31, 2014: Late at night, a chainsaw-wielding murderer hunts the Partisan. The poor stupid murderer.

New York City - Manhattan - the Waterfront

Once a working port, most of Manhattan's waterfront is far too valuable to waste on shipping, but there are still a few places where shipping containers and slovenly warehouses and ugly tin-sided buildings prevail.



  • Chainsaw - a disposable assassin

Mood Music:

For weeks, well months actually now — there's been graffiti popping up across the city, nearby fresh paint — police find her work. Sometimes it's a body, sometimes they're beaten and just left out cold in a pile, sometimes they've been tied up or cuffed to something. What is certain is who her typical target is, drug dealers, narco soldiers, drug traffickers and the odd gangbanger with warrants outstanding. So what is it that keeps popping up? Well, it's a skull. A wolf's skull, the coloration varies but it's always painted somewhere that it'll attract attention and the colors seem somewhat random. An officer or two knows what the skull means, or even those with enough time and an internet connection. Alternatively, you could have like actually met her and shit. The Partisan.

So where do we find everybody's favorite terrorist tonight? Why, doing terroristy shit of course. Like saving New York from fucking monsters and shit, it's totally fucking rad, no kidding right? Anyway it's near the waterfront (which isn't saying much) but after six or seven the place is a god damned ghost town as dock workers go home. Theres not much open beyond 7-11s and one or two bars, and even criminals consider it something of a wasteland. Well, most criminals anyway. Theres this guy called "Chain", who is, yes, a criminal. A hitman better known for his work around the Gulf Coast, where he, ya know. Uses a chainsaw to cut his marks up in broad daylight, before fleeing before the 5-0 can arrive. He looks like everything you'd expect, six foot and change, built from a mixture of steroid sculpted muscle and scar tissue. Leather trenchcoat, kevlar butcher's gloves, bandages wrapped over his face. What you'd probably not expect, is the fact that with his chainsaw slung over his shoulders? Yeah, he's running hard and fast down the sidewalk, half stumbling over discarded garbage as he goes.

Behind him lies an overturned old black pickup, tinted glass cast against the pavement like stars in the sky. The front end has been peeled completely back to just foreward of the cab, and oh yeah it's on fire.

It doesn't even take super hearing to have caught the opening shots, because that was a fucking 40mm grenade that just went off. Sure it's muted against the backdrop of humming A/C units, and heavy machinery but if you've ever heard a real explosion before? It's pretty fucking distinct. As distinctive as the colorfully painted gasmask, and vintage 70s vietnam BDUs, modern plate carrier, helmet and of course bright yellow "FUCK YOUR SHIT" scrawled across the receiver of her trademark suchka. Walking calmly around the burning remains of that truck, as she pops open the tube of her grenade launcher. Flicking the smoking empty casing off to the side, before stuffing it back over her shoulder in it's own little scabbard. "Run you fucking try hard! Run all the fuck you want you god damned mother fucking coward, you're only gonna die tired!" So yes, gasmask or not thats a woman's voice.

Simon Williams is tired. You can't tell by looking at his face, because his face is currently a sort of black outline with bright red glowing slits for eyes and a bunch of purple energy leakage … wait, that's his whole body. And he's walking, because he can't get back into his hotel or get any clothes except by going to see the nice girl at Superhero Supply where he has an account.
"Oh hell," he says, hearing the WHUMP and the gasping breathing and the gasmask-accented voice. "Partisan, who are you murdering now?"
He floats up off the ground and drifts towards the somewhat distant sound of running. Or bum-stumbling.

Jericho Trent is not a hero. He doesn't leap into battle at the cries of the innocent. He doesn't wear a costume or a mask. He most *certainly* doesn't hang out at some fancy base waiting for the call for help to go out. He's a hacker. But he used to be a soldier and he knows the sound of forty mike-mike better than most. "Not good." He turns toward the noise. He's not a hero. But he's going to check this out. There's a fairly short list of people who might be using this stuff and he objects to most of them.

Sara Pezzini has just gotten off looking into a case on this side of town, so she's nearby when she gets the call over the radio. She groans, dropping her brow to the steering wheel before reaching to respond. "Yeah, this is Pezzini. I'm on my way," she reports, starting toward the last reported location. When she catches sight of the burning truck, she grimaces. "Deja vu, all over again," she mutters, turning on the flashing lights.

Chain starts to turn, slowing to a stop with a heave of his chest. Pulling that chainsaw around slowly, as he walks out into the middle of the street. In plain, open view as he dips begins to jerk that pull cord to get that chainsaw started.

"Fucking cunt, I'm gonna cut you down to size!" Good god, did he get his lines out of a cracker jack box? He lifts his chin, as if to say something else but gets cut short. There's this staccato clatter of that suppressed Suchka, downrange rounds plough into the man's chest and walk up until his head explodes in a pink cloud and bandages. Slumping to the ground right there.

"Oh christ you blabbering dildochicken, shut your god damned cockholster." Part calmly lifts a gloved hand to jerk that magazine free, before exchanging it for a fresh one. Boots crunching that glass as she advances on what isn't a still form for long, because soon there's this red glow around that chainsaw. Then slowly the man carrying it rolls to his side, and even as his head begins to knit back together from thin air? He begins to stand back up…

"GOD DAMMIT! WOLF!" Simon says, floating downwards, still all purple kirby-krackle.
"Do you HAVE to spatter… Uh. Nevermind." He floats back a foot as the dead guy decides not to be dead yet.
"What the bleeding anal fistula is going on here, Partisan?" Yeah, he's butching up the language for Partisan. Adorkable.

Gunshots. Those were suppressed gunshots. Russian? Something eastern bloc, for sure. Jericho reaches under his battered brown leather coat and produces a pair of Uzis. The sounds were just around the corner. He stares incredulously at the rapidly healing partly headless man.
"Oh fuck me…" That wasn't who he expected. The guns go back. This goes south and he probably will want something with a bit more kick…

"Panther out." Crimson circuit traces appear all over his exposed skin and his eyes start to glow red. Little claws made of energy, thin feline things, protrude from his hands and boots. He turns and leaps up a wall several feet and climbs up to the roof for a better vantage point.

"Shots fired," Sara reports as she comes closer, pulling up in an unmarked sedan with the flashing lights behind the windshield just in time to see the resurrection in process.
"Okay, you have got to stop pulling this shit in my city," she says as she steps out of the car. "Seriously. Can you not take your personal war of vengeance to Gotham or something? I hear they're big fans there. You can be the Bat-Wolf."
Chain starts to stand, and she grimaces, holstering her gun.
"Clearly not what's prescribed here."

"Pair of Colombian assholes hired him to merc me, I've been at this all fucking day and it was old before this shit started." Partisan peers after Jericho, and frowns inwardly.
"I've shot him, stabbed him, beat him into paste, I ran over him with a truck. Oh and I drowned his ass, which involved a meathook, rope and a Geo Storm. So Detective, no shit I didn't start shit tonight, it's all him."
Nudging Wonder absently, before nodding towards Jericho, "Be a dear and see whats up with him, will you? Is he on this fuck's side, ours or just here for the show?" Absently motioning for the detective to come closer meanwhile.

And, the purple glowy guy who was fighting mole-mercenaries for brunch, is hovering two feet off the ground and near Ms. Wolf (close enough to nudge). He doesn't recognize Sara at all, because, frankly, she's not covered in metal lacework and spikes. He does recognize Aspect, but Wonder Man's not about to go over there while Partisan is here; not with a police officer in murdering range. Not that he thinks she'll murder the policewoman. Wait. Yeah, he does, kinda. Also? Chainsaw guy, getting up?
"Stay down," he growls, and eye-blasts the chainsaw, like hitting it with a 20 pound sledgehammer.

Jericho watches the scene for a long moment and then leaps to a closer rooftop. He's not quite sure he's been made yet because he can't hear Partisan and Wonder talking. He goes right over Sara's sedan as he does, angling for a place behind the Resurrectionist.

"Did you try the magical, glowing chainsaw?" Sara suggests helpfully, taking advantage of Wonder Man's delaying action to continue the conversation. She glances toward Jericho then, considering a moment.
"Looks sort of familiar, and not in the 'seen his mug shot' way, so that's promising. Also, he hasn't shot us while we try to decide what to do with Lazarus here. How much collateral damage have the two of you gotten up to with the roadrunner and coyote routine?"

Eyebeams, yeah those hurt. Chain goes down, right there again. Then after a second he starts to stir once more, and coughs wetly as he starts to get back to his boots.
"Yep, I'm thinking we have to seperate the two. I'm just reluctant to grab it and run, because if the saw is cursed then it'll likely latch onto me and I'm a handful already without going all B-movie horror villain." There's a pause as she opens up her stance, and proceeds to all but magdump that hushed little carbine. Downrange the impacts ring out against that chainsaw, throwing bits of paint and finally the chain itself clear of the saw. Then, just like everything else — it begins to stitch back together.
"I've been a very good girl, aside from the car I used to drag him to the bottom of the harbor and a electrical transformer? No damage, he isn't very dangerous to me thus far but this is getting really fucking old really fucking fast."

"Ah, you've met," Simon says as Partisan and the officer speak. He glances at Jericho, making sure it's the same person he saw flashing by in the underground, and it seems to be. Something about the eyes.
"I recognize the guy in the tronimal outfit; he's not likely to be helping Captain Chainsaw. Probably heard your gentle dissuasion earlier and came to look, right?"
He gives an extra sharp glare at the chainsaw, zot!ing it again to keep it out of reach of the guy and maybe to dislodge the chain. For grins he zots the guy in the foot.

Jericho *does* hear Sara talk about him, even if he hadn't heard the other two and quickly realizes that both his attempts at stealth have been less than successful and that it appears to be unnecessary. So he slides down a wall, one hand and one boot dragging their claws down the brickwork all the way down, and then walks over to about ten feet from Chain.
"Yeah, that's about it. Not many in the city would use forty mil openly. Thought it might be one of my 'friends.'" The tone makes it clear what he probably would have done had it been so.
"This… seems problematic." He looks between Wonder Man, who he definitely remembers, Sara, who looks a vaguely familiar and the one called "Wolf." He doesn't know her. He'd like to think he'd remember a woman with a gas mask.

"Once or twice," Sara nods to Wonder Man, keeping an eye on Chain.
"Pretty sure I can handle the chainsaw," she says after a moment. "Theoretically. I could be wrong. I'd think it'd have a hard time latching on to you, actually. Like when there aren't enough HDMI ports on a new TV, you know? Can't plug in if the slot's already taken. Anyhow." She scrubs a hand at her face.
"Sorry. Long day. If you can keep him away from it, I'll see what I can do about disassembling it."

The chainsaw and it's wielder slow, before coming to a kneel.
"Right, tell you what. I'm just about done with this jackass, I haven't had a smoke in like six hours and I'm getting a might bit more irritable than normal. So, I got Chains and you all keep the saw away from him. Destroy it if you can." The gasmask'd woman pauses, cinching down her Suchka and folding the stock before dropping her hands to procure her kerambits.
"Also oh hey there, Tronimal is it? I'm Partisan, you can chill or whatev and I won't think less of you. Otherwise, I'd be terribly thrilled if you could help these two goofballs out."

Then, with the scrape of leather she's off! Partisan, no matter all the gear she's got strapped on? She isn't just fast, she's stupid fast. There has to be a burst over forty miles an hour there, and the raw acceleration is just plain silly. Chain starts to rise again, grabbing for the pull cord to get the chainsaw started. Then she's right on top of him, and it gets ugly. She drives that blade into his hip joint, twisting the blade to gain all the better grip. That free blade sweeps up across his wrist, leaving the chainsaw to clatter to the ground. Chains, well she drives him into a nearby utility pole hard enough to crack it and send the power lines swinging wildly. Thankfully, it does stay upright at least.

"I can hold onto him," Wonder Man says, teeth showing in a red-lit mouth against the krackle. "He's not super-strong, is he, Partisan? Wait, you can handle it? Uhm, won't it try to latch onto YOU?"
And he IS tired. So Partisan's homicide leap takes him a bit by surprise, but he IS faster than, well, right now, a .22 bullet. And he's there grabbing Chains around the waist and taking him up into the air, holding him at 20 feet above ground. Let's see if he's stronger than the guy who single-handedly helped put the UN building back! Wait, that's not quite how it … whatever.

The hacker blinks. Gods, gas mask girl is *fast*. He watches her for a moment to make sure she can handle Freddy, there, and then turns to regard the chainsaw. You'd not think it'd be that hard to break, and apparently it's not, but making it stay broken seems problematic. And that seems a bit out of his depth. Still…

He looks up and regards the chainsaw, then Sara. "Would you like to take a shot at this? Smashing didn't seem to work when Mister Purple Spark did it, and I'm fairly sure I'm not going to be able to do him one better."

"Special equipment," Sara assures Wonder Man, moving toward the chainsaw as the others head for its wielder. Once her back is to them, she lets the Witchblade loose, shining metal sheathing both of her hands. Much better than latex gloves when it comes to dealing with possibly possessed or magically empowered chainsaws.
"I was thinking something a little more surgical," she answers Aspect, a faint smile flickering across her features as she reaches for it.

The chainsaw just, flops there and seem utterly harmless. Well as harmless as any chainsaw is, even if it's turned off at the moment. Chains the wielder, is, well, not magically strong but he does seem to be way more energetic than he should, considering how long he and Part have been going at it. He flails and punches, but well it's nothing special.
"Cut that thing in half then, Don't stand there looking at me asking for permission. I'm the Partisan, not the Witch. Not like I got any better ideas left."

"Talk to me," Wonder Man says in Chain's ear, squeezing a bit more to warn the man that he's not being given a friendly hug here.
"Tell me why I shouldn't just fly you out to the middle of the Atlantic and drop you there? It'll keep you and your toy apart long enough for my friend the Wolf to get some beauty sleep. You might even drown. Who paid you, and why do they think killing her will stop her?"

"Switch off." The crimson glow fades from Jericho's skin and eyes, and the digital claws disappear too. Fun as it is to see everything and everyone in super high def, he doesn't really need or want that right now. Instead he keeps one eye on the floating brawl and another on the chainsaw as Sara works on it.
"Ornery, ain't he?" Wait… 'why do they think killing her will stop her?' He shoots a look over to the masked woman.

"Because he's going to prison once I'm done with his toy," Sara calls back to Wonder Man's threats. "Trials. Evidence. Judgments." She crouches next to the chainsaw, frowning slightly as she reaches out for it. Once she has it, she holds it in both hands, concentrating on pushing the Witchblade into extending fine tendrils to wrap around it, encapsulating it.
"Here goes nothing," she murmurs, then wrenches both hands and blade apart, seeking to disassemble the whole device.

Partisan ughhs, despite everything going on she finds time to fix Sara with a look.
"Holy shit, are you even fucking serious right now. Jail, really. If you think I'm gonna play witness and victim and whatever else, you're off your rocker Detective." Then, Sara pulls the chainsaw apart and no kidding, it just pops apart. There it is, all bits and pieces and looking ever so boring save for…the thirty X marks carved into the bar.
Chain's reaction is much more dramatic, going completely still. Then he just, falls apart. Boots, pants, belt, jacket and blackened bones falling to the ground with a clatter. Thats enough to bring even Partisan to a stop, before she moves over to peer at the scattered bits.
"Well fuck, that simplifies shit don't it?"

"EW!" Wonder Man's voice goes strange and he shudders - he FELT that… collapse. "What the hell was that? He rotted in my … GAH!"
He'd throw up if he had a stomach. As it is, he's frantically brushing imaginary bits off his body.
"Need shower. Need bleach."

Jericho flinches as bits of body begin to rain down near by. It's enough to momentarily drive his recognition of the detective from his mind. But then it comes back. That's right. She was the one in the metal suit… thing… "Lovely…" He kicks one of the chainsaw pieces and sighs. "Nice work miss." He nods to Sarah.

After a moment's contemplation he looks over to Partisan. "Who hates you enough to send a freakin' revenant after you again?"

"Yes, I'm serious. You chase people down and kill them, and I chase them down and deliver them to the criminal justice system," Sara starts to respond to Partisan, though she pauses when she hears those…odd noises. Turning away from the pieces, she arches a brow at what's left of Chain.
"All right. To be fair, I probably should have seen that coming." The Witchblade fades away, and she tips her chin up toward Wonder Man.
"You think you can melt down these pieces, or vaporize them or something? I don't trust that they won't reform just like he did."

Partisan sighs softly, before simply slumping on the curb.
"Oh shit kid I'm hardly small-time, I've just never operated in the US until recently. I've done my part to piss off half the world, but then I've been at this for a long time." Lifting a gloved hand to unlatch her helmet and set it aside, followed by her gas mask. Surprise, she's blonde, sort've alarmingly pretty and can't be more than like twenty three.
"Not the first heavy hitter, just the first one who looked like a drive in movie reject." Out come the cigarettes, and the lighter and boom. Whole different person. Shoulders slump, her whole expression changes.
"Well first in a long time, most won't take a job to come after me."

Wonder Man glances at Sara, but doesn't see the witchblade. So he figures she's just a stealth super. Maybe a witch or something. He floats down, looking at the pieces. His eyes do a weird flashy-colors thing as he checks them out, and he shrugs.
"I can, but there's no weird energy left in them now - not like before."
He makes a fist and purple krackle blasts over them, and they flash and burn and pulverize in the usual way, no dust left behind.

Jericho nods and puts his hands in his pockets. He's a bit nervous with a pair of concealed weapons and a couple of stolen Hydra-tech grenades in his pockets… but she hasn't tried to arrest the scary girl in the gas mask… well, no longer in the gas mask, so he's probably safe.
"He probably figured he was unkillable. Hey, he was even right, for a while." He does a quick face recognition search on the two present with actual faces. It's reflexive by this point, he doesn't even think about it. He just likes to know who he's talking to.

"Hey, sorry to be that guy, and I know this is probably not the best location to ask," Wonder Man says, "But, can any of you guys loan me a pair of pants at least? I'd kind of like to stop being all leaky around the edges."

"Perfect," Sara sighs once Wonder Man vaporizes what's left of the chainsaw, pushing a hand through her hair as she turns to look at the burning truck.
"Hopefully that was either a derelict, or insured," she decides after a moment, looking back to the others. She's easy enough to pin down with facial recognition. Sara Pezzini, detective, NYPD. Ten years on the force, eight as a detective, part of the highly successful special cases division. There's nothing public about that thing she just did, though. Wonder Man's request meets a faint, not quite hidden smile. "Yeah. Been there. One sec." She turns toward the car, digging into the trunk for a spare pair of NYPD sweatpants.

Partisan shows up in no database, but then again that isn't saying much. She does zero in on Jericho though.
"The fuck are you man? I don't remember seeing you anywhere." Thumbing absently after Wonder man, the pantless wonder. "Despite all his pet fucking names, they call me the Partisan. Basically, I come, I fuck shit up and then I leave. What's your fucking story, you got a handle you want us to call you atleast?"

"Awesome, thank you, Detective," Simon says. He does remember her now, the one who was sent after him in Metropolis a couple weeks ago.
He pulls the sweatpants on, and with a KRZapppt the purple sparkly kirby-krackle goes out, leaving behind a normal enough shirtless, barefoot Hollywood action hero type with glowing red eyes in tight NYPD sweatpants.
Yes. Normal. Stop snickering.
He grins over at Partisan, and listens because he kind of wants to know if Aspect is going to have a different name.

Jericho cants his head slightly, taking in Wonder Man's transformation back to something with a face. And pants. Pants are important. He runs his hand through his short brown hair as Partisan talks to him. "Me?" He seems to consider his answer for a moment. Partisan doesn't seem like a subersive terrorist type. At least, not in the same way he's been dealing with for the past year. And after recognizing the other two, he's willing to bet they wouldn't be involved with the likes of Hydra.

"I'm Aspect, if you go looking on the right places in the 'net. Otherwise, I'm Jericho." No last name. That seems safe enough, in case he's mistaken about any of them. "And my story is… complicated. To shorten it a bit, I've got a fun toy that I shouldn't have and don't want, and people want me dead for it. Or alive long enough to rip it out of me."

"Well, you know. Wouldn't want to have to bring you in for open or gross lewdness," Sara smirks at Simon, flipping off the lights on the car and leaning against the hood, arms crossed loosely over her chest. "Sounds familiar," she nods to Jericho before checking her watch. "Been a long day, and I've got business in the morning. Take it easy on the tagging, yeah?" she calls over to Partisan, pushing off the car. "Going to end up with the gang unit on your tail."

Partisan offers a thumbs up, before peering after Wonder for a moment.
"Hey honey, you want a ride home or just need to make a call?" Then again, Jericho is talking and shit.
"Naughty toys are the best toys, so good luck with it Aspect." Puffing away at her cigarette for a moment or two, before waving dismissively after Sara.
"I won't put any of them in the hospital, I promise maybe."

"A ride might not hurt. I left some emergency supplies in a locker, and a key at the Super-Hero Supply Store," Simon says, with a wry grin.
"All my clothes and ID and phone got destroyed by lava earlier, but after the time before I kind of know better. But the store was closed, so I was walking around waiting for it to be open."
Pathetic, no? Imagine if Spider-Man had to hang around for Aunt May to come home…

Jericho chuckles. This seems like it's breaking up. Zombie chainsaw idiot deconstructed, check. Interesting new folks met… um, yes. Interesting. That's the word for Partisan.
"Be seeing you around then." He nods to Partisan as she strikes up her conversation with Wonder Man. He turns and nods to the shirtless Wonder and then starts walking back up to the street he'd been on, past Sara's sedan.
"Night, Detective."

"They're kind of assholes, I just don't want anyone getting caught in the crossfire," Sara calls back to Partisan as she gets back into the car. "C'mon, Williams, I'll give you a ride past the supply store on my way back. You don't need to get a violation. Nice meeting you," she adds with a wave to Jericho, buckling up and starting the car.

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