Raggedy Andy (Birth of the New Titans)

July 24, 2014: A motley band of heroes prevent RAG DOLL from bringing in another shipment of automatic weaponry. The kernels of a team is born!

Staten Island

From the North Shore and Ferry to the bridges that connect the small island
off the coast of the larger island to New Jersey, the 'forgotten borough' is
mostly residential, but does boast parks and historical centers. One of the
biggest draws is that free Staten Island Ferry which affords an even better
view of the Statue of Liberty and Ellis Island.

Apartment complexes mingle with detached homes down the streets, with
buildings that date back to the 1800s next door to those built only within
the last decade. Traffic isn't anywhere near as bad as the City proper, or
even the other boroughs as the population of the island itself doesn't have
anywhere near the numbers, mile for mile, the others have.

Homey looking streets turn into residential side-streets and it's one place
where one runs the risk of actually knowing their neighbors (and their



  • Rag Doll

Mood Music:
Rag Doll, by Aerosmith (of course)


As the lightning licks at my toes I marvel at the beauty of the Smokey Mountains at sunset. I just can't get enough of how the sun gets splayed by the clouds and drowns everything in the oranges. In the Reds and Yellows. There are more flatter places to run, of course, but I gotta be honest and tell you that the hills are far more fun than rolling through the further south. Plus there are a handful of wilderness tracks I can take that provide a good route for me-and an unbeaten path for bystanders. Out here I'm free, but it only lasts an instant. Good thing that for me instants can sometimes feel like an eternity.

My name is Wally West, and I am the fastest man alive.

I'm on my way to the Island. Staten to be specific. In recent months I've been tracking this crazy group that has been trying to smuggle weapons in from the Far East. I say crazy not because they're criminals; calling them crazy for breaking the law would be too easy. They're insane because they dress in motley court jester clothing and wear masks similar to those you might have seen if you watched that movie Eyes Wide Shut. If you haven't, don't bother. Unless you really dig Nicole Kidman.


As I arrive in New York, I soon see what the anonymous tip to the NYPD was talking about. Three ships are pulled up to the docks, well after closing time. And well after closing time is code for 'we're totally doing something totally nefarious and illegal.' There look to be like 40 of these goons, all in similar get up. They apparently have some leader, some bendy guy who can take a mean punch, but I don't see him yet as I approach. Time to go to work.




Some distance down the docks at another part of the wharf there's another boat, much smaller than the set of three larger ships that are the center of all sorts of activity. It's a grey and red cargo ship that tends to be used for working up and down the coast as opposed to across the ocean. Just a small thing that carries a few of the cargo containers in its open hold.

Upon the wharf the captain of the small ship is having a few brief words with the young man who hired him. It's little more than a cursory consultation of the manifest and a few words of advice.

"Please take your time in delivery, caution over haste. Time I have plenty of."

"Sir," The captain gives a nod, takes the signed paperwork and steps back onto the boat.

That leaves young Alexander Aaron upon the dock, alone for now… though down the wharf is that curious activity. With a curious look to him, Alexander moves along down the way making his way to the myriad costumed men.

Lunair has ways of finding things out. Some part of her ties to mercenarywork was kept. Some ears to the ground. She never speaks openly about what she does, nor does she mention a body count. Actually, her grim and gritty pine air freshener seems to mostly come out now and then rather than wrapping her up in them like a used car dealer. Funny, that. But there's something about having combat powers and having fought for years and years that makes it tough to escape.

And now that she can pull up armor on the fly (no henshin sequences, sorry), it's easier than ever to keep herself busy and on her toes when metahuman work runs thin. Her explorations take her here. Of course it's the docks. of course it's after closing time (they don't wanna miss the after school specials, after all!). Of course. She is wearing sleek black armor, although she's - you guessed it - in a box peering out. The box slinks along towards the group, pausing when anyone looks that way or comes too close. Pay no mind to the box.

Not everything which lurks at night is dark. -Evil,- not everything which lurks at night is evil. Docks are restricted territory and all so Talia doesn't invade their personal space. She just happens to neighbor it, very closely, with another peculiar blue creature. The open water, the massive ships and machinery, the cool evening breeze which carries with it the scents from the bay, it's all quite relaxing and a pleasant way to chill out after having rocked another evening gig at a nearby club.

Hunched over with a disposal thermal cup full of hot chai tea in hand she quietly watches the sights in the dark, the pair of glowing golden eyes seeming to hang in the air like very patient fireflies. It's a quiet moment.

Which means to say, when things go south at the nearby docks she's going to hear it.

"It's really nice not having to solve reality-shattering crises every other day."

Ships. The sea. The call of seagulls as they fight for the fish that comes to surface, or to eat the remnants tossed back from the fishing boats. Not so much here, but with tide and current, the distinct, shrill calls do sound in the air. For a man… for an elf… for a mutant who was born and raised in the mountains, Kurt Wagner does enjoy spending time with large bodies of water, sharing it with his daughter.

"Ja.. it's almost boring. Which, of course, makes me wonder what will happen next," Kurt muses. He doesn't sound disappointed, however, as glowing, golden eyes look out onto the water from his perch, tail wrapped about him so as not to be confused for a spot to hang by bats. "You know, it is said 'Seek und you shall find..' but does that include looking for trouble?"

As Alexander Aaron continues down the sides of the docks, the men in the distance continue going about their work. They're heaving long boxes that look just exquisite with which to carry semi-automatic machine guns. They lift, two by two, and carry them up and into a warehouse where four trailers are sitting in wait. He moves closer and closer, and is suddenly hit with an intense vision.

Is it the future?

There before him, bound and unconscious are four heroes clad in differing garb: A man in red with a runner's body and a lightning bolt for an insignia. A young woman wearing black with a monstrosity of a semi automatic weapon-kicked away by a henchmen in jester-garb. Two blue heroes, clearly mutants. A group of henchmen with automatic rifles approaches them, ready to shoot and kill execution style.

As soon as it began, Alexander's premonition is over and his normal vision returns, just as it was before.

Meanwhile, Lunair slinks along in the ole Solid Snake trick. One can almost see the exclamation mark at one point when a thug thinks he hears something. But she toils along. Slowly but surely.

The family Wagner sits at the edge of the scene, watching as the boxes continue to be unpacked. From their vantage point, they get a good view of what happens next.

Amidst a flash of wind and crackle of electricity, a red clan man is standing by one of the boxes and has it pried open. "Ah-ah-ahhhhh," The Flash says as he picks up one of the rifles. "Anyone got a permit for this? Anyone? I'm going to be that /no one/ has a permit for this." He gives an upwards nod to the thug standing at him. The assumption he's staring, but we can't see because of the mask. "What about you, Henry? You g-what? Whatchu lookin' at? That's about as blank of a stare as they come home skillet. Hmm? Say something Sparky, I'm getting bored here."

The thug moves in on the Flash, and tries to punch him, which is dumb. He's swiftly dodged and punched, knocked right the hell out.

"I feel stupider just being here," The Flash remarks as the night begins to be filled with automatic machine gun fire.

As the vision begins, flickering to life in front of Alexander's eyes it halts his advance abruptly. His brow furrows as his normally dark eyes turn white with the torment of the fates and those images are followed by a woman's light laughter that only he can hear,

// Hahaha, will you take up the sword again, little godling? //

As quickly as that the visitation is gone, leaving the young blonde man's features twisted into an irate mask of anger. He breaks into a run down the docks towards the place where the gunfire erupts. He breaks his stride only briefly as he picks up an abandoned broomstick upon the ground and _cracks_ the head of it off with one smooth motion.

The makeshift jo staff whirls in an arc smoothly and ends tucked under one of his arms as he accelerates faster towards the scene of the crime. Intent on doing what he can to make sure that vision of his not come true..

Not out of any desire for heroics nor to save those he saw… though the elfen girl was moderately cute. No, this vision will be defied purely out of spite.

Huh. She goes still when one of the thugs looks her way. Nothin' here but a box. No siree. Just a box. Full of stuff. And things. People love opening 'em, cats love sitting in 'em, small children enjoy playing with 'em. Boxes are great, really. And it's a dark twist. Lunair seems often quite silly, but there's a solemnity and seriousness beneath the lethality. Beneath the really quite high tech (oh my god, is she ripping off Metal Gear Rising too? Or the internet? Hard to say. She just knows how some things work).

And wait. Is that a fuzzy purple person? Purple blue? Lunair normally does so well on color theory. But she has no time to contemplate it. There's a SUPER FAST DUDE and a guy smacking a dude with a broomstick, and suddenly stuff is going down like MC Pufferfish is in the reef and it's on.

Okay. Broom stick guy is likely to get hosed because he's brought a cleaning implement to a gun fight. But for all of her rampant mercenary-ing, she's got a pretty heroic heart. Pause. But heroism is great when you're not squishy. Nevertheless, she's making her way over there and suddenly, she decides screw it. She emerges from the box, pulls a staff with a round cat (with cat's ears and tail) from out of freaking nowhere and comes from behind with a shockwave. "Surprise!"

Pleasant, peaceful, familiar company, Talia's in her happy place. She's just starting to take another sip of tea when there's a thunderous tearing sound of automatic weapons chattering away, causing her to gulp a good deal more of the brew than she's planning on before spitting it out with her mouth agape. "Ow-ow-ow-hot-ow!"

Yellow slits snap wide open to large orbs, staring down at the docks like two more starry dots within the evening skyline. "I'm gonna go ahead and blame this one on you, Dad." He's the one that just haaad to say something…

Tea cup goes to tail, hand goes to Kurt's shoulder in automatic preparation, and she's ready to jump. Because of -course- they have to get involved. What hero wouldn't! "How about a bombing run, pilot?" Because the best way to not get shot is to be faster than the bullet. Or..just not be there in the first place, but they make do!

Of course trouble searched for is trouble found. Kurt's yellow-eyed gaze falls on the scene, and it's undoubtedly the same thoughts that go through his head as spoken by TJ. "Next time, I will say noth-


"…ing." Bombing run it is.. and the first stop is to be sure that someone with a gun no longer has it in his possession before the finger can pull back a second time on that automatic weapon. With once, twice… Kurt (and possibly his passenger!) appears and disappears in a cloud of sulfurous haze, disarming at least one thug, and the main bamfer lands upon the -side- of a building to determine his next course of action. The chaos of battle does need order—

"Was was in there?" Weapons crate. Undoubtedly illegal… "How many more are there?" Kurt asks the air. That way, he can atleast bamf them away.

The Flash is having his way with some of the thugs, clearly enjoying the banter. But as Phobos enters, his attention-dammit Wally, it's always your focus-turns towards the newcomer. As it does, The Scarlet Speedster does not anticipate the dart that shoots from off in the distance. He catches it in the neck on a soft spot in his suit.

"Hey I don't know you," The Flash yawns as he sees the young man. "Gee," offhandedly now. "Feelin' sleepy."

The Flash collapses into a pile of meat, fast asleep in the middle of the fire fight! Several thugs look to tie him up and approach on him.

Lunair's shockwave takes down 5 of the thugs in one blast; they skitter along and slide across the floor into the outer wall of the warehouse. While Kurt and TJ make their way into the battle, they'll notice how chaotic things are. One guy even accidentally shoots his own man. They are many, but they are poorly trained.

Alexander is a moving silhouette on the docks, limned by the spotlights from the ship when he steps through those cones of light. The jo staff whirls rapidly, bouncing off heads and limbs with loud /thwoks/ of sound.

One of the thugs round on him, unable to fire lest he hit his comrade and actually checking his fire instead of blazing away. Instead he brings the heavy butt of his gun around and snaps the makeshift weapon in half. Yet this serves only to give Alex two batons to crack against the man's knee and temple.

Not breaking stride, the godling charges towards the next group of men, turning smoothly and sending each splintered baton hurtling at two of them as they try to take a bead on his approach. Each one goes down with a _whok_ of their own.

Is that a guy bamfing? Maybe? Lunair's a bit distracted playing whack-a-mook in a strange, inverse version of the game. Normally the mole pops up, yes? She doesn't seem to think much of having weapons around - it's a fact of reality for her. And wait. That IS the Flash! "Oh, cool." She's probably seen something on the news or other. Maybe. Or she could be imagining things. He seems pretty bold. Then he gets tranq darted like a rampaging Kim Kardashian. Oh dear. "Oh snap."

Well, she'll probably try to help. But she's going to be making friends of her own, it seems. Then a wince as one guy shoots his own teammate. Dude, team killers. The worst. "Hey! Mister Martial Arts! Catch! I have no idea what you use," She admits. Throwing weapons at strangers. Good job, Lunair. Either way, she tosses Alexander a pistol and sword once she's close enough to do so safely. Probably a foot or two. More of a hand-off, really. Still, the downed Flash has her attention. And a swing of the staff to play Bowling for Minions. Wham!

Disconnecting from the Bamf Express is going to leave TJ in a more hazardous situation but the teleporting approach is Kurt's deal, her own skills are best put to use in the melee. The best way to be there and not get shot is to get in uncomfortably close. Close enough that a full cup of hot tea can get tossed at one of the guy's heads before the blue girl does a backflip and kicks him under the chin, snagging the weapon from his hands with a dart of her tail.

She's back on her feet with the borrowed weapon held out like a staff, eyes narrowing as she concentrates on putting forth her agility. Being shot's never fun, nobody likes to get shot.

Spin-Whack!-feet off the ground-Whop!-tail to neck-WhapSMACK!-rifle butt to face-Krak!-flip and throw the rifle on top of another's foot and -bug the heck out- before someone can shoot her in the back-crapwait the red guy's down!

"Pardon me!"

One touch to another man's shoulder is all it takes for the blue girl to vanish out of sight, momentarily stealing control from himself. Just maybe the others will listen to one of their own? "Forget him, we're getting hammered out here!" Disposable mooks, useful for all varieties of situations!

It's Kurt's method… fight, take stock and perhaps their foe will find another place to be, or will realize the futility of their actions. (Ever the optimist!) Perched against the wall as he is, he catches the Flash go down, as well as another with the whirling staff. Those amber eyes flicker once more upon Luna, and a decision is made; the others have the fighting well in hand, it appears, and he is singularly suited for a rescue operation. From that wall, Kurt disappears once again in a cloud of brimstone, and appears just above one of the pair of thugs that are approaching the downed vigilante.

Falling from that small height, the man feels all 160 pounds of blue, fuzzy elf on his shoulders, as well as a tail that snakes around to grab the man by the wrist as it reaches for the drugged one. "Not so fast…" and in the next second, flips backwards, taking the man with him and slamming him against some hard, vertical object.

Have Bamf Will Travel is quick in his work, and the second is dispatched as rapidly as the first, leaving Kurt with the downed Flash. "Mein freund…" *nudge*nudge* "Mein.. oh great.." He'll need a teleport out.

But… Luna? "Can you take him out?"

Kurt's head whips up, and he can -hear- TJ in the voice of one of the thugs and smiles, showing those less than dainty pointed teeth. "It would be better if you left" is given in encouragement. Just in case.

The tide of the battle is turning towards the heroes, but the thugs still have one surprise in store. From up and over the hood of the truck, RAG DOLL leaps and throws impossible punches and kicks with his amazingly bendable appendages. As Kurt flings his minion, Rag Doll aims a double haymaker.

Punches come towards both Lunair and Phobos, too as the man whirs around like a gymnast or like that Darth Maul guy in that Star Wars movie that no one likes, but everyone thinks that part is awesome.

As he twirls, he mocks the heroes. "It was a valiant effort, you fiends. But the work here is already done and has been for quite some time! Dollmen!" He calls out to his thugs, some of whom turn to face him and mouth things like, "Sir" or "Savior." "Retreat!!!"

Without missing a step, Alexander takes the proffered weapons from Lunair and with her at his back they begin to create a defensive area around the fallen speedster. The swordblade whirls as he snaps it around in a reverse grip, but it's the pistol that barks rapidly as he fires while holding ground.

With each buck and leap, the pistol barks sending round after round… into the nearby thugs shoulder. Perfect grouping. /Crack/ shoulder. /Crack crack!/ shoulder shoulder. /Crack CRACK crack!/ shoulder shoulder shoulder. Many a potential ping pong career was ended that day.

And as he fired, Alex's red eyes gleamed like star trails and waves of shadow rose from him like wisps of smoke mirroring the shape of a creature much larger than the young man himself as he shouts angrily, voice amplified with the screams of the damned.

« This? This is how you choose to spend the sliver of your mortal lives! Wasted and spent dressed as clowns finding defeat at my hands! Fools! »

Then out of nowhere Rag Doll appears, even as Alexander is gloating with his gun roaring and his blade to the side. The gymnast villain flips around and suddenly that haymaker /slams/ into Phobos sending him reeling back to crash amongst some of the remaining crates.

"Hey!" He's slammed ino Alexander, she needs to get Flash out of here and she ends up receiving a punch. Though, mercifully, she's in her armor. It's still concussive force and she seems annoyed the wind is out of her sails. Nevertheless, she's going to get back up, cough a bit and grab for Flash. In a rescuey way. Rescue grab and take him towards Alexander to check on the guy. She has tucked the shotgun safely over her shoulder, preferring to wield the staff it seems.

As tempting as it is to use the borrowed goon to follow after the others and gain some intel, Talia can't occupy the other person indefinitely. It could also wind up being all sorts of unsafe, that Rag Doll creep looks like a serious contender for just one mutant.

Oh, if only she could possess -that- guy… One call to the SRD and this situation could practically solve itself!

As the others retreat, and many of them get shot in the shoulder, TJ quickly sheds the possessed man's form and gives it a gentle push toward the ground. He'll be unconscious for a nice long while, best if he not bleed to death before he has a chance to come to his senses.

Just..one more thing. With the retreating Doll guy she mimicks winding up like a baseball pitcher then fires off a hex bolt right after him, because she can. That, and the he just turned his back on a whole herd of heroes. Not smart!

"That's for being a ridiculous villain!"

Narrowing her eyes toward the others in an accusing fashion, she pointedly asks "Alright, which one of you was shooting all these guys in the shoulder? Not cool!"

Kurt rises, ready for that quick teleport when he's clipped by that haymaker. The fuzzy elf is flying towards a wall, and in the next second, he's gone. Disappeared in a bamf! to suddenly appear right in front of Rag Doll, doing the same speed as that haymaker'd sent him flying. (Physics can be a bear at time!) Landing on the man with all fours… five including the tail, Kurt uses that extra appendage to once again, wrap around the man's wrist, and yanks back so the one arm either breaks or gets yanked.

"Not nice. Those guns could hurt people if in the wrong hands… like yours."

Though Phobos is punched by Rag Doll, the Fear effect he places on the area takes hold of Rag Doll as well, sending him running in fear as Kurt leaps right into him. As the Fuzzy Blue Elf yanks on his arm, the mutant will be in shock as it just sort of stretches and stretches and stretches.

Nocturne's hex bolt blast hits Rag Doll up under the rear and sends him careening into the wall head first where he's knocked out cold. And almost as soon as it began the battle is over.

Once it's clear that Rag Doll is finished, there's some mop up work for the heroes to do. Most of the thugs will be apprehended; alone they're almost completely useless. Some get away, but not many are able to avoid the heroes. In the following days, the NYPD will uncover the whole operation and Rag Doll's assets will be frozen as he and his cronies await trial.

As things begin to settle down, the Flash sits up abruptly and looks at the others in turn: Phobos, Armory, Nocturne, and Nightcrawler. He holds his head slightly and winces as he's awaking from a deep, deep sleep. "Oh man, I had the strangest dream. You were there, and you were there, and you were there, and so were you!" As a horde of automatic machine guns and smattering of sawdust line the floor of the building, it's clear that the Flash has missed most of the fun.

Crap. That sucks

Getting back to his feet and tossing the now empty pistol aside, Alexander looks over the carnage and at his 'teammates'. He cocks an eyebrow at Nocturne as she asks her question, to which Phobos responds.
"My apologies. It pulled to the right."

The fog is starting to clear up and the Flash finds he's terribly hungry.

"Hey, do you guys like Pizza?"


Back to: RP Logs

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