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11377 Possession (Group/Closed)

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11377 Possession (Group/Closed)

Post by Boxer on Fri Nov 23, 2018 3:09 pm

With a powerful uppercut and the hard clang of metal being struck, an entire warehouse began to shake as a resounding fist fight began to reach it's climax. A man seemingly made of growing and shifting metal planted his feet back on the ground and swung wildly at his assailant. With a tight stance there was a rainbow in the light that bobbed and weaved through the relentless metallic assault. When the time was just right, that rainbow slipped inside the attack range and unleashed a single punch from the right. So fast that it stopped being a blur. It was too fast to even register. An invisible punch.

”.22 Caliber Straight!”

The metal man's eyes went white as consciousness left his body. His brain was sloshing around in his skull. He was going to fall flat on his back without having touched the rainbow that was still dancing on the tips of his toes. It was in the midst of this far that something sounding like metal trying to speak let out a “no.” Shining metal spikes shot from the man's back, dug into the ground and lifted him back up.

”So this is what you can do when you're pushed. Well, come on. Let's not keep all of my fans waiting.” With too much confidence to be sane, the cocky rainbow stood completely still and opened up his guard. A hero boy in a black unitard that shined with the same rainbow as his hair offered up the perfect shot. With all of his rage the metal man lunged in for his high speed attack. His metal arm stopped being an arm and became a club covered in spikes. With all of his strength he reared back all the way and swung straight down to split the boy open. Aided by a bit of tricky footwork and a well timed pivot, that swing hit nothing but the concrete ground beneath them. His eyes looked to his left and saw his opponent's dazzling white teeth smile.

”Say goodnight. .22 Caliber Check Hook!” That invisible punch rang out once more, this time it struck deep into his opponent's jaw, which flung open and loose in the wind. The metal man's neck twisted in distortion before his whole body dropped limp to the floor. Truly unconscious now, the man's transformation quirk wore off and the metal giant returned to being a normal sized man. Out of habit, more than anything else, the boy no older than eighteen shook his hand loose after the punch while he took a look around.

”Tsk, just the muscle. Alright officer, it's clear!” As the boy called out, the large sliding doors to the warehouse were pushed open and entered by another boy of about the same age. This one had dark brown hair and green eyes.

”This is officer Esposito calling in on the drug bust on west docks Manhattan. I have one suspect unconscious.” The rainbow haired hero reached down and pulled out the man's tongue. Black. With a snap of his fingers he called the officer's attention to it. ”Suspect has been using Trigger but is subdued at the moment. We'll need a class 2 medical wagon for his transport.” With his radio put away, the officer began to apply the handcuffs. ”Trigger in this city. As if our crime rate wasn't high enough. Anymore Boxer?”

”Should've been but it looks like I missed them. This guy's just the muscle.”

”Maybe they wouldn't have seen you coming if you weren't so flashy”

Boxer was a young man at about five foot eleven and one hundred and fifty pounds. Small but punching way outside his weight class. His hair was all the colors of the rainbow mixed up and cropped short. Even the heroic unitard he wore, though black without light, shined with holofoil rainbow sparkles when ever even a hint of light shined on it.

”A hero should stand out so that everyone knows who he is!” Boxer lifted the welder goggles from his eyes to reveal they were anything but ordinary. Multisectioned eyes with bands running horizontally through the center. Each move on their own while a pupil wiggles around through each segment. The colors and shapes of the world change with each pass of the pupil through the various segments. ”I've got a chemical trail. Looks like some of the product isn't sealed.”

”Any public danger?”

”No, not enough of it. The air is already breaking it down. Wont be strong enough to track through the city either.” With his goggles back down, the world darkened to something more akin to what humans see.

”Then I guess it's up to the CSI to get our next lead.” Finished restraining the perp, the officer got up and pulled out his radio again.

”Or someone with a loose mouth. I'll see ya for pizza tonight!” Working with the police was fine, well, and good. Boxer was still new to the hero scene and didn't have a plethora of ways to get the drop on crimes at instant speed. Therefore, the cops were the logical place to start since he could tag along with an officer, Esposito in this case, and get to act on the crimes they were sent to. Still, Boxer was someone looking to make it big and set up his own firm. He preferred to get information on his own with what few contacts he did have in the hero world.

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Re: 11377 Possession (Group/Closed)

Post by Rhapsody on Fri Nov 23, 2018 4:28 pm

Loud. So incredibly loud. Not just in terms of noise, but the look of him was just.....

Douglas sighed softly as he turned away from the scene in the warehouse. The air had been buzzing with rumors of a bust for about a week now. It was no wonder they'd moved all the stuff and just left Bradley behind to take care of the fuzz. Poor fool even thought the Trigger he'd been slipped was because he was trusted to do a good job, and not to just make him even crazier than usual and buy as much time as possible for the rest of his crew to move their stash. Still, Bradley had been good for that much at least. He made a lot of noise, and thus also made the hero he was set against make a lot of noise too.

Not that he needed too much encouragement to do that.

As he meandered from shadow to shadow, there was little to distinguish him from any other youth that might be out at this time of night. Old, beat up hoodie with a couple of holes, hood up, loose sweats. It might have been odd that he was going around barefoot, but it could easily be that he couldn't afford any shoes. An odder detail would have been the fact that even on the whisper plagued old stone and concrete, his path was as silent as the grave.

But hey, it was light. What did any random observers know?

Old warehouses were good for a lot of things, and there were a lot of them on the docks. Training, hiding something you didn't want found, squatting if you were in a particularly run down one, and so on. Didn't give Douglas any pleasure to know that he'd had to learn all these uses personally, but that was a living. He had one in particular in mind. Selected from the rest of the ramshackle boxes near the water's edge, it was where Douglas and his contact with the police had agreed he would get a look at the new blood. The sneak peek had not been negotiated. It was more of a coincidence that the night of the foiled bust was the night of the meeting. Honest. His warehouse meeting place was a pretty significant jog from where the Trigger had been stored.

Douglas checked the perimeter, feeling around for his little tricks against people as sneaky as he was. Leads unbroken, string taut, dust undisturbed. All in order. Another few times around the perimeter, both to satisfy that little voice at the back of his mind, and to wait for the shadows to grow long enough that he could appear to leave the area, only to slip back into the warehouse.

It was a miserable old thing, and that's why it was perfect. A maze of rusted shipping crates fused to the concrete, limited lighting from the moon through broken or fogged windows, and what was better still was that a lumber ship came in fairly regularly nearby, so Douglas had been able to snag enough sawdust to make sure his quirk wouldn't have to do all the work of keeping him quiet.

First order of business was a quick change. The hoodie and his shoes were pulled off to stash in one of the crates in the center of the warehouse. His hair was pulled back from his face into a ponytail, and his lower face mask pulled up. He made a quick check of the bandages around his wrists and ankles, the canisters on his waist, and the knife secured sideways over his tailbone. "A hero should stand out so that everyone should know who he is." He chuckled a bit at that. Foolish, but at least there was something earnest in it. Almost admirable. But, enough admiration. He had a guest to receive.

A deep breath in through his back and he was off. A light coating around the floor of the warehouse. Not enough for his smoke's real potency, but he had to spread it this thin to get a proper cover. He could supplement later if it came to that. Hopefully not. Hopefully whatever the young man had been using to note the drug had been moved recently wouldn't be able to track him through his smoke.

A dark, very quiet, very old warehouse where two men on different sides of the law, but with ostensibly the same goals were to meet.

What could go wrong?

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Re: 11377 Possession (Group/Closed)

Post by Boxer on Fri Nov 23, 2018 5:42 pm

Vigilantes: people that take the law in their own hands. In a world where nearly everyone has some bizarre super power outside the human scope, people's quirks are highly regulated and permitted. It is basically against the law to use your Quirk in public without being a pro hero. It's one of the main reasons why Aiden became “Boxer.” Vigilantes are a bit different though. They're people whom didn't complete the hero courses available from various schools but are still trying to use their Quirks to meed out justice. They're not quite heroes and not quite villains. Which, in turn, offers them some freedom to go places that a hero can't; especially a flashy hero like Boxer.

That was the person he was meeting tonight. By using police connections he found a snitch currently doing time for possession with intent to sell. The snitch pointed him to an information broker whom was usually dirty but just clean enough to still give out the right information if the timing was right. That information broker set up the meeting with this guy that could allegedly get him closer to the dealers of Trigger in West Manhattan. As far as Boxer knew, this man was an official criminal in his own right but, the hero was willing to let a small fry run around if it served the purpose of cutting heads off snakes.

Still on the docks but far away from the original scene and late enough that the only light out here was the moon, Boxer would find the location for this rendezvous. Another old warehouse. Who knew there were so many? Were these things used for anything but clandestine meetings anymore? The darkness reflected off of the hero's unitard, taking away the dazzling rainbow sparkles, but it did nothing for that same natural color in his hair. As opposed to the welder goggles he wore earlier, Boxer chose to wear a pair of aviator sunglasses in this environment.

At a chain and padlocked door, the hero found his way inside. With a sharp jab he snapped the door off of its hinges and walked in casual, unafraid of ambush consequences. The inside was even darker, if that were possible. Barely any light from outside made its way in and what little did was muffled by dust, rust, and shadow. Someone could get killed in here and no one would ever know. The boy allowed his boots to clomp heavily against the stone as he made his way deeper inside. Old, rusted, shipping crates and run down scaffolding made the place into a Tetanus ridden maze. The hero boy positioned himself in as close to the center of the room as he could make himself with a beam of moon light put right on him. What little light reached him reflected off of his unitard in a rainbow spread. It did nothing to light up the room and only made a target out of him.

”Hey there, how's it going?” He spoke out to the air, confident that he was being watched. They were to be alone and alone the boy was but was his informant? ”My hero name is Boxer and I'm here to talk about some less than desirable product in this part of the city. If you've got reliable information on how it's getting in, let's make a trade.”

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Re: 11377 Possession (Group/Closed)

Post by Rhapsody on Fri Nov 23, 2018 6:14 pm

Well, it was a pretty good thing that he'd spread a thin layer of his smoke. Where it impacted the ground, the door would only thud softly, rather than clang and rattle and wake the entire warehouse district. He probably should have done the same for the walls. Or tried at least. Still, his initial assessment had been right on the money. This hero was loud in dress and action. Even when meeting a secret contact, he had no sense of secrecy. Just talking out to the air like he was on a street corner trying to be heard over the traffic. Douglas sighed quietly, sending the smoke down through his legs to envelop his feet. He could run, right now. Take his things, tell his contacts that the boy was no good and would ruin everything and be done with it. It would just be back to the same old same old. Slip out the details of locations and drops, avoid the cops, be nowhere near this place when the gangs were broken up.

Same old, same old.

He didn't make any sound as he moved from crate to crate. The smoke would make sure of that. An occasional puff of the stuff to darken any moonbeams he had to pass across in his second inspection of the young man. It wouldn't be a long silence. Only a minute before he replied. "Honestly, it's been something of a dull night. I was thinking the movies, but you gave me quite a show earlier." Constantly moving. He looked to be a short range type, but assumptions could get you killed or locked up. He'd definitely only been playing with Bradley earlier. Didn't matter if you made yourself a target if you also made sure you couldn't get hit. "So you're one of the call out types, eh? I was hoping for someone a little more my speed, but you're competent at least."

He finally came to a stop just outside the glow of the light. Close enough that some of it gave him a vague outline, but far enough that he should have time to react if the hero lunged. Boxer was staying still, and a gesture of good faith was usually better appreciated among heroes. "So what's the trade going to be? If it's just that I keep the ability to go around unimpeded, well I'll be disappointed." Not his name. Not yet. If he gave it, it could just go straight to a database with this one.

"How about the name of your stylist in return? They either love you, or despise you, but I have to see them in action for myself either way."

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Re: 11377 Possession (Group/Closed)

Post by Boxer on Fri Nov 23, 2018 6:50 pm

Aiden was the honest sort, to a fault. Cocky was the better word since he was sure of himself that he saw no reason to be anything else. A smile of amusement went wide across his face as the voice moved across the room. No foot steps. No clothes rustling in the wind. Just a voice. It was a bit arrogant in its own right. Very assured that it held the upper hand in this exchange. Well, at the very least it wasn't wrong about that. Aiden could feel that he wasn't what this guy had expected but then, he expected too much if what he had given away was true.

”The trade is me. You get me in exchange.” The boy spoke intentionally loudly and listened to muffled sounds barely echo back. ”I know guys like you.”

From the beginning Aiden was trying to figure out what this guy's deal was. He entered loudly to trigger a response from this character but the door didn't make as loud a noise as it should have. He stomped his boots on the ground to find that there was some sort of smoke mixed in with the darkness and dust of this old place. He spoke loudly to find that the echo that should have come from this sheet metal wasn't responding correctly. And, most of all, with his hidden eyes, he saw that it wasn't just dark in here. He positioned himself in the light to reflect light across the room. Light was being stolen by the smoke. His contact was some wannabe ninja with a smoke quirk that made him stealthy. The polar opposite of Boxer.

”The brighter I shine, the darker your shadow becomes. What are you doing here even meeting a hero? Why are you keeping tabs on all the Trigger traffic in this city? You want to live your life your way but you don't know what that means. Come with me. Stand beside me or follow in my shadow and I can show you a life to lead with your power. A way to get fulfillment in leading your life abiding by the societal standards.”

He hoped that was enough because as a new hero Boxer didn't have much else to give. He only made it this far thanks to the cops. If this contact didn't work out, he'd be back to square one in trying to put an end to the trigger business in Manhattan.

”Or not. But please, you know the effects Trigger has on people right? You saw me fight that guy earlier. It powers up Quirks, sure. Who doesn't want a stronger Quirk; to feel important. But it robs those people of their sanity and makes them do what they otherwise wouldn't.” There was a deep sigh as Aiden pulled information from his mind. ”His name was Bradley Wilson and though he was a big guy his quirk only let him grow aluminum around his knuckles. Not really worth a lot as far as quirks go. So, Brad got into construction. His parents had him late so they're not doing so hot anymore and Brad was a stand up guy that was ok taking care of them. He didn't have many friends or girl so he had the time. But then some guys offered him some quick cash. He didn't think nothing of it the first time or the second time. Before he had realized it though, he was working security for poker games that had less than credible businessmen in them. One of these men are responsible for the Trigger in Manhattan. He takes notice of Brad and starts having the guy guard his deals. Brad doesn't know it yet but he's already in too deep. Then today happens and a goof like me stumbles across a maybe and checks it out. Brad's given Trigger and now, even if he's conscious he wont be back to his right mind for a week; assuming he ever gets back to us.”

There's a deep sigh and the hero deals with the emotional repercussions of his shoty work. He doesn't feel bad about putting a bad guy away to serve his due. He doesn't feel back for the parents pushing seventy that now have to watch their only kid go to prison. He feels bad because that bust could've been the end of all of this. And maybe Brad could've gotten off a little easier and learned a lesson about doing honest work.

”What I'm trying to say is, with your information, we can do the next bust correctly. We can save people and put the bad guys away the right way. You can be part of that. I know you want to. I know you want to see the fulfillment of all of this work and find your place in this world. Waddaya say?”

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Re: 11377 Possession (Group/Closed)

Post by Rhapsody on Fri Nov 23, 2018 8:17 pm

Well, that certainly caught him off guard. His right foot shifted back a few inches as his body reacted to what he was taking to be some sort of distraction, or deliberate attempt to throw him off. "Look, you seem nice but-" But the man kept talking. Douglas decided that it was a pretty good idea to shut up and just hear the hero out. Worst case scenario, his initial assumption was perfectly on the money, and he would have to let the guy down gently. Dating was just one of those things on the no list for the destroy from the inside approach he took with most of his work.

After a few moments though, he wondered if that was the worst case scenario. This had to be some kind of setup, right? He tilted his head to the side, trying to shift and pick up any extra sounds that would come from above. It would be a little clearer up there, far from the smoke and if any police force was being brought in, that would be his best bet to hear it. And yet, nothing. No tamp of boots, no crunch of cars. If this was a setup, they expected the kid to bring him in on his own. It was the most uplifting and on theme pitch one could give, and for that, it was too perfect.

"What do I say? What I say is you can't really be serious about what you just said." A way to become better. To use his powers within the bounds of society, but be useful. A partnership that would actually work in his favor, let him be useful, and put him with the one other hero he'd met that actually seemed to care beyond locking up the junkies whenever they showed up. It smelled. Horribly. And yet....

"And even when you knew all this, you were playing with him." In through his hands, out through his back. A steady stream of air to keep him sharp while the weight of his expectations slipped off his shoulders. If this kid was actually perfect, he might have just dropped dead on the spot. "Get a good workout then? Slipping in and out of his guard like that? Like I said, I enjoyed the show earlier. Some real nice work, but you could have ended that a lot quicker." The whole time his tone had been casual. Even in accusing the man of joking about his whole spiel, it was casual. Conversational. They were just having a nice little chat, and when it was all over they could go about their night like nothing happened. "You sure you want my shadow in the mix? Surely you have your own already."

His stance moved back to neutral, but he brought a hand up, fingers tapping one of the canisters he had around his hips. "I generally don't make it a habit of working with showboaters. They can easily turn out to be glory hounds, and doing it for the accolades isn't going to get Trigger off the streets. It's just going to lead to more people taking it to try and deal with you, or follow your example."

Benefits to a full body respiratory system and the ability to use circular breathing, there was no sharp intake or huff when he started to move. To the side and up onto a crate where he could crouch on the edge, further in shadow. It did a few things for him. The first was establish a little time for the hero to reflect on his actions. He wanted to be good and virtuous and show he cared? He could bear to think a little more on what he'd done. The pause also gave him time to properly consider the offer. Just on the hypothetical that it was something earnest. He kept coming back to the phrase 'if this was a setup', and he continued to fill in the blank with 'I would already be in a fight.' Telling him that helping would mean he got to go legit would be a lot easier if he had a reason to want to go legit.

"I'm not going to be your personal shadow. I'm not cut out for secretary work. Dictation was never my strong suit, and I look horrible in a pencil skirt." Gods he needed the sarcasm to distance himself from what he was about to say. "But I will work with you to get Trigger off the streets. On the condition that you stop playing with your food. Put on a show for the crowd, but make it clean. And if there isn't one, just get the job done. Bradley won't be the last distraction, and the more time others like him buy, the further the suppliers get, and the better they get at hiding it."

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Re: 11377 Possession (Group/Closed)

Post by Boxer on Fri Nov 23, 2018 8:44 pm

There was a mental fist pump as the contact agreed to give up the information with some mild stipulations. It seemed like they were both reading each other fairly well. This shadow man saw Boxer for what he really was and it left a bad taste in his mouth. It appeared, however, that he also felt the hero's earnest desire to help people- even if he was garnering attention on the side. The debate on how practical showboating was could be left for later; if their relationship even made it that far. For now, Boxer had to bite the bullet and agree to the terms.

Efficient work. Putting on a show was left only for crowd. As he visualized the most likely scenarios to follows, drug busts weren't likely to occur in front of a crowd anyway. This was to be an ambush operations where Boxer breached first to take on heavy fire while the police cleaned up behind him. He could show off for the cops a bit to earn their admiration and make relations with them easier in the future. But as long as none of the police were injured and he cleaned up the room quickly, this contact shouldn't have any problems with it. Seemed easy enough to complete the terms at the time.

”You've got a deal. The suppliers are the main target after all.” In his mind it came down to three simple objectives. Take out the current suppliers to make the amount of Trigger in the area limited. Prices will skyrocket and deals will become less frequent which gives him time to focus on preventing any new suppliers from picking up the market. Once the supply is completely cut off, then they can work on cleaning up the lingering amounts and trace the Trigger all the way back to the manufacturing source. Simple in his mind but it had taken three months just to organize the disaster that was today.

”I gave my hero name before. My real name is Aiden Anderson.” He extended his hand in an offer to shake and solidify their partnership. ”You don't have to tell me yours but I'm going to trust you from now on.”

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Re: 11377 Possession (Group/Closed)

Post by Rhapsody on Sat Nov 24, 2018 5:36 am

He fell off his box.

He was able to save it at the end, and turned over in the air so that he landed lightly on his feet, but that didn't excuse the fact he fell off his box. Douglas had blanked for just a few moments when the young hero was willing to give out his real name to someone he just met and had no means of vetting. Part of him wanted to leap forward and smack him across the back of the head for being so foolish. That part was suppressed, though he was breathing a mite unsteadily as he recovered from his emergency landing. Laugh, cry, scream, would it even matter what sound he made? Somewhere out there, there was a god of some sort. Abrahamic, pagan, lesser spirit, something. And it was laughing at him. He didn't even pray to anything, and perhaps this was his punishment.

What was worse was that he seemed to still be completely genuine. Even confronted with his own failings, the kid was willing to push forward. Douglas knew he was going to regret this. It was a niggling thing at the back of his mind with that entrance, but now it was certain. He would regret this before the job was done.

He considered the offered hand for a few moments. "You are obscenely lucky." he commented. He didn't fully trust Boxer. He didn't have any problem showing that either as he approached with one of the small canisters in his left hand. His thumb was already hooked into the ring holding the whole thing together. One twitch from the rainbow that Douglas didn't like and he was out of here. Still, he reached forward with his right, and took his hand in a brief shake.

"Call me Miasma."

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Re: 11377 Possession (Group/Closed)

Post by Boxer on Sat Nov 24, 2018 3:05 pm

With the information provided by Miasma pointing to one Ellis Cabberland, the police detectives were able to string enough evidence together and rush a quiet warrant in just a few hours. By morning, Cabberland's position was verified to be in the newly built luxury hotel in Hudson Yard. A SWAT team was put together along with two heroes requested for the job- Boxer and Knightfall. Boxer was included since he did the leg work for the investigation as well as his friend Officer Esposito. However, Boxer is still very new to the pro hero world so a more experienced hero was also requested in Knightfall. This was Boxer's first time meeting the hero. He's significantly larger that the boy at six feet and four inches. As the “knight” in his name suggests, he is in full platemail armor. A T slot in the dragon shaped helmet allows for the only visible form of the man's body. Powerful golden eyes shined even in the brightly lit room as the mission briefing was being given. One should not be fooled when looking at them though. Boxer, in no way, felt smaller than the grown man. If anything he felt bad that after everyone saw what he could do, no one was going to pay attention to a gaudy relic knight.

”This is a simple ambush operation.” The captain began to explain while the officers were getting suited up in their tactical gear. ”The hotel is going to be cleared of civilians in an organized and discreet manner. Immediately following this, Boxer and Knightfall are going to enter from the front. There will be thirty enforcers with small fire arms. Boxer and Knightfall are to incapacitate them as much as possible and progress onwards. As the heroes take down targets, officers will move in to begin detainment. The streets will be completely cut sealed so the only means of escape will be the helicopter pad at the top of the building. Boxer and Knightfall must rush to the top level and stop Cabberland from reaching that escape route. Intel suggests that he has five powerful quirk users on his side but they're not registered so we don't know what their quirks are.”

It's not a lot to go on and most heroes wont risk their lives needlessly in a quirk battle. Maintaining the situation and waiting for someone with a better quirk match is a widely accepted strategy among heroes. One couldn't speak for Knightfall but Boxer saw all of the rewards laid out before him. This was going to be his big break in pro hero circuit. There wasn't anyone in that building that was going to stop him from being the one walking Cabberland on the front door in handcuffs.

”Obviously your lives are more important so don't do anything too risky. Just make sure we capture Cabberland.” A basic map and building plans of the building were provided for the heroes and police to study and make use of. Heroes were often trained and expected to turn situations around with knowledge like this.

”It's good to meet you Knightfall. A statesman like you is surely welcome in an operation like this. Might take my all to keep up with you.” A little cheeky and a little more than confidence in his voice, Boxer approached Knightfall with an extended hand. Welder goggles covered his eyes but that didn't stop the boy from expressing him self. In the well lit briefing room, his black holofoil unitard sparkled with more rainbows than ever. Large bulking pads on his arms and fists to make sure he didn't hit anyone too hard and cargo pants outfitted with support items for the mission. Boxer was geared up for an extreme fight where he wouldn't have all the time in the world to hold back. This kid was intending to show the whole world what he was capable today.

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Re: 11377 Possession (Group/Closed)

Post by Khyvas on Sat Nov 24, 2018 6:46 pm

In a room full of computer screens and gadgets sat a man that seemed forever held in a state of contemplation, always thinking, always pondering the nature of his work and how best could he perform it. He had been in this business for awhile now, yet he himself wasn't that old at all, a mere thirty-one years of age, and a pro-hero with over a decade of experience under his belt all the same. Whereas many other heroes these days gain their education by going to a fancy academy and enrolling in "pro-Hero classes", taking up a modern version of a trade school, Khyvas was given one hell of a homeschooling experience, doing this since he was a mere fifteen, a boy parading around as a warrior. Whereas other kids got to go to Superhero High School, going to parties, enjoying their teens like kids ought to, Khyvas was given a crash course in the various Arts Of War, both written and practiced, thus he wasn't some backseat sidekick in the comfy spot while a hero did all the work, he was on the frontlines right next to the original Knightfall.

It would be that experience however that lent it's power once more to him as he read the request form for his presence in a drug bust at the Hudson Yards, another profitable paycheck that practically had his name written on it, and with his name of "Knightfall" having a lineage attached to it, good jobs were all but promised even if he was new to the title, because if one thing was certain, it was that mantled names always carried weight.

And that weight was felt when Khyvas entered the briefing room of the NYPD in full armored costume; the room didn't quite go quiet, but it slowed down for a few brief seconds. Khyvas knew this atmosphere, the one just before a raid; SWAT officers calling their families to hear their voices for what could be the last time, all the while being sure not to mention what it is they're about to do. Analysts checking and rechecking their intel to make sure everything is on the straight and narrow in order to avoid any nasty surprises, and those officers in charge who would have to bear the brunt of responsibility should the worst occur. It was work, but dirty, violent, often dangerous work that in a society filled to the brim with people with powers, had officers on edge, even after law enforcement reformation, and Khyvas could feel it every time he entered rooms like this, and every time he could feel the tension ease just a little when those eyes fell on the visage of a hero they knew they could trust. "Gentlemen." He said to them as he entered, a stoic, strong voice echoing the room as they went back to their business, the air noticeably lighter.

Within that room however stood out the other pro-hero sent along with this mission, a man who was codenamed Boxer. Glowing like a fresh rainbow after a spring shower, the young man stood there in his garb easily being the brightest physical thing in the room, a possible hint to the young man's psyche. "Guess we know who is going to be shot at first." Khyvas thought to himself as he studied the young pro before taking a spot in the corner of the room as the Captain of the raid began his presentation. At the end of it all, Khyvas understood that he was basically to be what his master always was and what he had been training and practicing to become; the Vanguard. "Smash and grab, basically, with lots of smashing. Noted, Captain Lorenzo. I'm ready to move whenever you all are." Said the knight-hero to the SWAT team.

It was then that the young hero waltz up to Khyvas and introduced himself in a manner that barely hid his own desire to pull ahead of everyone else. And truth be told, Khyvas couldn't blame him, after all it was a hero's popularity that determined if they got fed that night, thus seeing a young hero all pumped up and ready to take the spotlight was pretty much par for the course, but Khyvas didn't want that drive to be the young man's end, nor did he want Boxer's desires to be what got any of the officers in this mission killed either. All of this was easy to pick up on from the tone Boxer gave as he spoke- young heroes often betray their own intentions with their tones, not words- and while Khyvas wasn't exactly offended at the notion, the older hero had to remind the younger what was at stake.

Taking his hand and shaking it, Khyvas said to the young hero "Likewise, but do remember why we're here, yes? Eyes on the prey, not the horizon, young man, lest I have to rescue you as well as take down the bad guys today."

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Re: 11377 Possession (Group/Closed)

Post by Boxer on Sun Nov 25, 2018 4:01 pm

In the van on the way to the hotel, Boxer became quite a bit different from his usual self. He was... quiet. Eyes closed and focused in his own head. For those keen enough to notice, they would see subtle twitches in his muscles. He was imagining fights. Image training is a lot like shadow boxing but one step further away from reality. You imagine fights in your mind and fight them in the most realistic way you can possibly visualize. The weaker one is, the less effective it can be. The stronger you are and the more fight experience you've obtained, the more useful the technique can be. One shouldn't expect to ever strengthen their muscles or instantly become a better fighter for it though. It is merely a way to focus one's mind and rehearse the movements when space is limited. Boxer is using it in this manner. One could think of it as his version of meditating. All of the distractions and external goals are pushed from his mind until there is only one shining bright light in the darkness. The fight. All that mattered right then and there was the fight. Outboxing, swarming, slugging. He practiced them all and used them on each opponent that it was best suited for. He felt his biceps clench. He felt his back extend. It was the perfect zen that he would get to use his body the way it was designed from birth.

The van came to a stop where the boy took in a heavy and deep breath that pushed his rib cage to the limit. There was a long exhale through his nose before he opened his eyes and slammed his fists together. They sounded more like rocks than flesh and bone under the padding that kept his power in check. ”Alright! Lets make it flashy!”

He hopped out of the van and let the sunlight shine on him. Instantly exposed to the day light, his suit lit up from solid black to a shimmering rainbow. The monolithic sized hotel dwarfed the boy in an offensive manner though. It's modern, sleek, windows and silver boarder, design reflected the sunlight in a pleasing manner that was much more enjoyable to look at. With a mental curse to the thing he swore to bring the whole building down if given the chance. Side by side with Knightfall, the two heroes approached up the main steps that served as a pedestal to mount this place above all around it. The civilians were sneaked out the back. The police officers were waiting behind the heroes, ready to apprehend everyone in the building.

”Well, Knightfall? Do you want to knock or should I?” The child asked with all the eager hope of waiting for Christmas. His knuckles cracked and popped while his smile grew wider. This was it. This was the culmination of a year's worth of work and investigation. Finally, Boxer could be a known pro hero that did something good for the city.

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Re: 11377 Possession (Group/Closed)

Post by Khyvas on Mon Nov 26, 2018 12:40 pm

The ride to the operation site, the Hotel On The Hudson, was the typical one before any raid Khyvas had been on before; one officer going over finer details yet again, and a second, not as highly ranked but just as seasoned officer cracking jokes like his life depended on it.

It was a good way to alleviate the stress and tension of what they anticipated, the fact that their lives will once again be on the line as people who were free to use their powers as well whatever weapons they were equipped with would be going against them and trying their best to not end up in chains and jail cells. Khyvas himself took part in the playful banter, hoping to help the men rest easy, all the while noticing how quiet Boxer was being, and that's when he saw it; the young hero was mentally preparing himself in his own way.

The subtle way muscle twitches, the unseen battles of the mind, all in order to make oneself sharper.

Boxer was as anxious for this raid as anybody else would be, and in a way Khyvas reminisced of when he first started going on these types of raids with his master, starting patrols as a young and often foolish sidekick. As an invisible smile cracked from beneath his helmet, the van came to a halt. "Ok folks, T-Minus thirty!" The lead officer yelled as the van opened up and the raiding party moved to action. Khyvas did his final fastenings and weapons check, drawing his armament and brandishing his shield, and Boxer stretching and preparing to pummel his opponents, his suit gleaming like a brilliant rainbow.

The young Hero asked the Older one which of the two would like to knock, and rather enjoying the young man's moxi, Khyvas decided to take it upon himself to bust the doors down, his old energy for this sort of thing coming back to him.

And also because Boxer stood out like a sore thumb and he would be the first one to be shot at. Khyvas knew that no matter how hush hush these raids were, the bad guys would always know the good guys were about to set upon them because:

1) Suddenly the people in hotel would just up and vanish, and

2) The fact that a slew of vans would suddenly surround the building.

The bad guys were now entirely helpless to run, but that never once stopped them from preparing to go down with a fight, and as such Khyvas knew that behind the door atop these marbled steps probably lay a crapload of guys with weak, combat unfriendly quirks and firearms to supplement said weak and combat unfriendly quirks, all aimed and pointed at whoever was going to be ballsy enough to enter. "I think I got this one young man, so stay tucked in close behind me, but be prepared to move fast when I give the word." Said Knightfall, and as his armor suddenly had a glowing outline of purpleish energy, Khyvas raised his leg and proceeded to send the door flying off of it's hinges, and proceeded to in turn have about thirty men with SMGs and AK-47s and even a few handguns proceed to unload directly onto him.

"Can't say I didn't see that coming." He said wryly and aloud, holding steadfast with his shield raised as he blocked incoming fire. "Just wait for it, trust me." He said once more to Boxer, assuring the young hero that his moment to strike would come, and within a second it was there; the men had been using firearms, and firearms had to be reloaded.

During the crucial pause, Knightfall would yell out to Boxer "Now! Strike fast to the right, I got the left!" and would dash off at blinding speed, his quirk allowing him to push his body to superhuman limits, and the armored hero would proceed to dash like a wall of pain into the crowd of armed thugs, ramming about three of them into a wall with a single shield slam, and before the others could even react to the sudden onslaught, Khyvas would brandish the weapon of this generation's Knightfall; a specialized stun baton fashioned into a sort of "energy sword" from a certain beloved franchise that Khyvas perhaps loved a bit too much for his own good, one that utilized Khyvas' unique quirk to power itself to various levels, this one being the "electrocute and beatdown the bad guys while glowing pale blue" setting. Each hit would stun and bruise the target, making a limb go numb, making the bullets within a weapon suddenly explode when Knightfall knocked one away which in turn would disrupt and harm the other opponents in the room, and in a marveling display, he would have dispatched half of the enemy group in mere seconds, before turning around to see how his partner was handling his share of things.

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Re: 11377 Possession (Group/Closed)

Post by Boxer on Mon Nov 26, 2018 10:46 pm

With an over grandiose bow, Boxer stepped out of the way and permitted Knightfall to take the lead. Age before beauty and all of that. There was plenty of fame to go around in the beginning. With a keen mind to maintain his focus, the boy stepped behind the armored titan and readied himself. It might not be well known but Boxer had some mild advantages when it came to gun fights that he would get to show off quite thoroughly today. With the doors kicked off their hinges the battle began. Insane men fighting for whatever freedom they thought they could obtain. Madness being lead by a coward hiding at the top of the building. Whether by the energy Knightfall was emitting or by the material of the shield, the stalwart knight held off all of the gunfire on his own. Though it lasted scarcely a minute, it felt like an eternity until their guns clicked with dry fire.

At the very sound of Knightfall's command Boxer already exploded into a full sprint down the right flank. The boy's voice cracked as he roared into battle. ”.22 CALIBER LARIAT!” Boxer's crooked arm grabbed the first man by the neck but the attack didn't stop with him. The boy scooped up two more as he ran to the center and launched them like projectiles into the others. With friendly fire and fumbled reloading a factor, one attempted to use his rifle as a club. With a tight guard the boy blocked the swing easily and slammed his fist into the man's face. ”.22 CALIBER STRAIGHT!” Barely restrained, the punch that hit like a bullet sent the man flying across the entire lobby and into a wall. He wouldn't be getting back up. The gloves Boxer wore padded the impact and absorbed a great deal of the blunt force. The armored pads on his forearms and shoulders concealed a spring system that also absorbed some of the force of the blow. So, to be clear, the boy was trying harder to throw punches that would do less damage. It was counter intuitive to winning fights but necessary for saving lives.

The boy didn't stop his movements- not for a second. Immediately after a decisive blow he was dashing to the next target. A knife flew from the man's pocket and towards the boy's eye. With sheer unadulterated fearlessness, the boy dodged just by twisting his neck and closed in to his range. The uppercut plowed into the man's diaphragm must have sounded like a table being dropped in an empty ballroom. The way he toppled over and spat out the entire contents of his stomach left nothing to be desired. And again, Boxer had dashed straight to the next one. This one didn't waste time with his main weapon. He drew his side arm; a glock 22 aimed straight at the boy's forehead. Yet still, the hero remained fearless. The trigger was pulled and before the sound had reached anyone's ear that bullet was flying through the air.

The advantages that Boxer had over bullets? Beneath the rainbow reflective lenses of his welding goggles were a pair of eyes that each gave him trinocular vision. This was increasingly necessary since if you measured his punches you would find that they move at the same speed as bullets. In other words, Boxer could see bullets flying in the air. Not with super speed but with super reflexes, the boy's body moved out of the way of the bullet lit it was dodging a punch. The next bullet let loose the seconds elongated to minutes as the two combatants closed in on each other. The shooter hadn't adjusted yet and missed with the second shot. A third shot, Boxer's too close to dodge now.

The second advantage Boxer had over bullets. Throwing punches at the speed and with the force of bullets required something to make the boy himself immune to those punches. After all, is a normal human structure hit as hard as he did, his arm would explode. The bullet slammed into the boy dead in the left shoulder only to never make it through. Beneath Boxer's skin was a sub dermal layer of crustacean shell made from the minerals he consumed in his diet. Thick and dense like stone but flexibly organic. It hurt like hell but against small arms fire he was largely resistant. Against this guy that shot him, Boxer unleashed the old one-two combo and knocked him out instantly before he grabbed the man and threw him over his back and into some guys trying to flank him.

Forward still, three men ran up on him. Baton, knuckle duster, knife. Being bullet proof, you could imagine that these weapons didn't pose much threat to the boy but he still treated them seriously and dodged attacks as best he could. That was because Boxer understood that he lived in a world where anyone could have a superpower that could undermine his defenses. Three on one and they still hit nothing but air as he played peek-a-boo with their lines of site. It wasn't until their chins were exposed that the hero slugged each of them with hooks that knocked them all out.

He had made his way all the way to the end of the lobby, destroyed the right flank and turned to see the back of the center line turned with their guns raised. His eyes spotted Knightfall handling his lot just fine so he made the decision to handle this as well. Boxer “loaded” both of his fists at his side and against his ribcage and the guns were raised at him. A dangerously wide grin went across his face as he recognized that the guns were strong enough to damage him.

”.22 CALIBER PISTOL BARRAGE!” At the same time as the gun fire Boxer unloaded his fists in a series of extremely rapid punches. At first, one would be confused as to what exactly he was trying to hit. But at the same speed as the bullets that whizzed past him powerful blasts of concussive force carried by the wind slammed into the men. Their first wave of bullets slammed into the boy and wrecked havoc on his armor but all of their successive shots ran wildly as they were barraged by his pistol shrimp quirk.

”But wait there's more!” Boxer shot his left arm straight out and locked it in place while he reared his right fist behind his head. ”.22 CALIBER SNAP GRENADE!” With all of his might the boy launched his two fists against each other. Just like the trade mark technique of the pistol shrimp, Boxer let out a “noise” that was no longer in the range of what human ear considered noise. The force of a grenade launched from his fists. Anyone close to him was instantly dropped while anyone else without protection was left disoriented and ringing. Easy pickings for Knightfall to finish any stragglers.

Why didn't he lead with this? Boxer deliberately placed himself on the far end of the lobby to create as much distance between him, Knightfall, and any civilians as possible. Still, though thoughtful, it was reckless. There were bullet holes in his skin with minor amounts of blood letting. His shell wasn't broken but it was cracked. It was his experience that it would take a month to heal it completely after this. With a casual press of a button, Boxer called the elevator and waited for Knightfall to catch up.

”Just one selfie for the Twitter.” With a cocky grin the boy snapped a pic with his cellphone and succumbed to a bit of showboating in the downtime for the elevator. ”Hash tag hero work. Hash tag no filter. Hash tag Plus Ultra. Hmm... Hope Miasma isn't following me. He doesn't seem like the smart phone type. Probably okay.”

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Re: 11377 Possession (Group/Closed)

Post by Rhapsody on Tue Nov 27, 2018 4:12 am

Before the punches. Before the door. Before the briefing. Before the raid.

That was when Douglas checked in to the hotel. The nature of the raid and his status as a vigilante meant he would have to be in beforehand if he wanted to get anything done. He wasn't going up the side of the building for the two pronged strategy like captain sparkles wanted, and given he was a lot less durable than boxer, going in the front during the raid wasn't going to work for practical reasons. And so it fell on the poor, put out ninja to check in a few days before the raid and have to enjoy a proper bed and hot shower for the first time in a month.

But, such was the burden of one who walked in the shadows to protect thos-

"Fuck. I'm even starting to think in his flavor of drama." He was going to need to stop talking with Boxer for a while after this. Or maybe make the condition that for the next job, if it came, he would have to act like a normal person when it was just the two of them talking. Douglas checked the calendar on his phone again, as well as the reminder set there. Three days. He'd been here three days already. Not his longest stretch, but his cash roll still didn't appreciate him for it. It was the minimum he needed to make sure he was ready for the job ahead.

Day one had been more or less just a settling period. Check in under the name Moya Yamiyo, lounge around the lobby and bar a bit, and in general let the idea spread around that he was just some college kid. Here to get away from parents and 'distractions' while he studied for some as of yet undisclosed final. Why here instead of a motel? Motel wifi was crappy, and they didn't have a bar for the end of intense study sessions.

Day two was when he got to real work. Scouting out the hotel for the cameras and their angles, figuring out which rooms had criminals, and finding a route to the roof. The camera coverage was decent enough for a hotel this size, but it was basic. End of the hallways, and corners of the big rooms. Plenty of areas where there would be poor coverage, or none at all. Enough cameras to look legit, but not so many that any less than savory customers would feel like they couldn't operate. The stairwell was his best shot to the roof, and also had a distinct lack of coverage. As far as he could tell, there was one camera watching the stairwell entrance down at the lobby, and nothing else. The reason why became apparent when he tried to get up to the roof for some 'air'. He wouldn't call the man at the door to the roof a meathead. Never. He'd seen worse in heroes and villains. He did, on the other hand, wonder if man could reach his face past his biceps. Of course he didn't say as much because the guy could probably crush his head with those pecs alone.

Obviously, he didn't get that fresh air he was hoping for. It did smell of gasoline up there, so unless the musclebound bouncer with rocket elbows required real fuel for his quirk, there was a vehicle up there. His job was to do something about that.

Day three was the real prep. He spent the whole day in his room, using maps drawn from memory on graph paper to plan his route and mark off where defenders were likely to be positioned. After he dealt with the helicopter on the roof, he would have to wait for the others to get up to his level. A tight schedule depending on how quickly they would be able to chew through the fodder on the lower floors. Still, at the end of day three, he was happy with his route and plan.

Which brought him back to the present. Waiting in a cold, concrete stairwell for the sort of noise that would signal the start of the raid. He didn't have a precise time since he couldn't be a part of the briefing, but the vans he'd seen from the window meant it had to be soon. And he knew there would be noise because these were heroes, and this was a raid. Either element meant that subtlety was right out the window. It almost made him smirk to hear a blast like the whole door had been taken off its hinges. And for all he knew, it had been. Of course it was also prudent that he set up a cloud of his smoke above his head to spread out across the stairwell and keep the noise from carrying up. The bouncer was likely already on edge. If he knew it had started, Douglas would lose that split second of confusion and hesitation he needed.

When the sound of bullets stopped, Douglas opened a hole in his smoke and raced up, dragging the cloud behind him by thought. As he came upon the last flight before the roof, he pushed it up and ahead of himself, dimming the area immediately around the guard. If he'd gone for the walkie on his hip, he might have been able to get just loud enough to communicate some kind of alert to his boss. Instead, like most, he covered his mouth and tried to wave away the smoke. Maybe he saw the knee coming for his face before it hit. Maybe he only felt it. All Douglas needed was for the man's head to snap back as part of his body's automatic response to get away from the source of pain. The following fist to the adam's apple meant he wouldn't be mustering the force to scream even if the air hadn't been filled with sound dampening smoke. Douglas shifted to the side as the man came down, both swinging at him and trying to protect his throat from further abuse. He wanted to fight it out.

"Sorry, but if you're looking for a playmate..." The heel of the young man's palm came down on his opponent's jaw like a hammer. He stumbled away, towards the stairs and groped for a few moments in Douglas' direction before dropping like a sack of potatoes. His brain was too battered from the blow to the jaw and demanded a nap to recover. "You're on the wrong floor. The showboater's downstairs." Douglas finished. He knelt down and searched the meathead for a few moments, coming up with keys and a wallet. "Jacob Holmes. Today is not your day." He pushed the cash under the bindings around one forearm and unlocked the door to the roof. Job was only half done.

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Re: 11377 Possession (Group/Closed)

Post by Khyvas on Tue Nov 27, 2018 9:07 am

Boxer was a wonder to behold, a truly gifted kid that would one day make for one hell of a seasoned pro-hero. He had handled the first wave of guys at about the same speed as Khyvas had, but there was a second wing of hostiles that had made themselves known and as they tried to light up Boxer, the Hero simply pushed his quirk to it’s upper limits and literally punched the bullets off course with his wind pressure, an impressive feat that Khyvas was barely able to keep up with. “Hm, not bad, not bad at all.” He thought to himself as he moved in to take advantage of the stragglers left behind by the dazing effect of Boxer’s onslaught.

A few simple movements, three of them going down in a single shield toss, the rest going down with good old fashioned blows about the head and face. As Khyvas mopped up the remainder of the hostiles, Boxer was already being the single most iGeneration child ever by standing next to the elevators taking selfies to post to social media, seemingly unaware of his own wounds.

“While I’m glad to know you’re bullet resistant and awesome as hell, you still aren’t bulletproof. Try not to tank too many hits, even if it’s for the right thing. Who are you gonna save if you can’t save yourself, hm?” Knightfall said to Boxer, noting the small holes in his skin and the shell beneath it. “Something tells me these hurt more than you’re letting on. Good thing I know one hell of a medic. I’ll have them loo-”

“SUCK MY DICK YOU MOTHER FUCKAAAAAS!”

Khyvas was cutoff from the dual scolding and praising by one last asshole who was apparently hiding in a broom closet just waiting for this moment. In his hands was a god damn M32 Milkor MGL, aka “A fucking grenade launcher. OH FUCK!”, an exclamation Khyvas didn’t really have time for as the man proceeded to unload on their position, forcing Khyvas to create a barrier to protect both himself and Knightfall, and the SWAT officers entering the building immediately backed the hell out to avoid the shrapnel.

Once the man had run out, Khyvas opened his eyes and took a slow but deliberate gander around him, noting the devastation to the elevators and the surrounding area, and with a single, very angry motion, dropped the barrier and threw his shield at the gangster whose mouth now hung agape at the fact that waiting until the end had done absolutely nothing for him but piss off the two people one shouldn’t piss off. Whoever these guys were, they were well equipped, their gear being way above the standard gang members arsenal and frankly that worried Khyvas, worried him greatly because if they could afford this for their foot soldiers, what else could they afford for the people they actually cared about?

Catching the shield as it bounced back, Khyvas looked at the now ruined elevators and gave a heavy sigh. “Motherfu.....Well I wasn’t expecting that. Intel made no mention of these guys being this well equipped, so what the hell kind of shit is this? I thought the AKs were a bit much, but M32s? Just who the hell are these guys and has Trigger really become that profitable? God damn....” Khyvas muised to himself, wondering just how the hell the rest of this day was gonna go.

As he moved to the next set of elevators since the first set was totally trashed, Khyvas looked back to Boxer, saying to him “I guess today you’re gonna get that glory you keep thirsting for. Good thing you look good on camera. Come on kid, we got some asses to kick.”

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Re: 11377 Possession (Group/Closed)

Post by Boxer on Thu Nov 29, 2018 4:10 pm

At the battle cry of one last minion, Boxer raised his fists, ready to spring into action. Right until he registered the weapon the man was wielding. Though the boy didn't know the make and model numbers, media had taught him enough in how to recognize such a device. A grenade launcher! Even if his fists could produce something resembling a hand grenade there was no way the hero's body alone could tank that. Instead, he moved as close to Knightfall's back as possible and let the armored hero absorb the damage just as they had at the front door. When the attack was over, though all of the damage had been absorbed, Boxer was left staggered. Knightfall, on the other hand, finished the man off with a shield toss.

”A hero should watch his language. It's bad for your image if the media records you cussing.” Boxer muttered as he held an ear and walked to the other elevator. ”Now I'm gonna have a headache for the rest of the day.”

The two stepped inside and selected the top level. A modern high rise building featured a high speed elevator that began zipping through floors as they climbed higher. That was until floor twenty when the metal box was brought to a halt.

”Yeah, this makes sense.” Boxer commented on how likely it was that they'd be stopped by higher level enforcers as they climbed. What he didn't expect was the elevator box beginning to crumple and buckle under some kind of force. The boy was suddenly reminded how they were twenty stories high in a suspended death box.

”Dibs on knocking!” He cried in a hurry before his fist blasted the doors apart and sent them barreling down a hallway of cubicles. The two quickly escaped and found themselves confronted by a business looking man in glasses. Office supplies flew about him in a double helix sort of way that fed back into its self. He looked like the sort that thought himself quite tough as he stood in the center with an arrogant smirk and a finger on the bridge of his glasses.

”I am the office manager and I'm afraid I can't let you any further. Ku ku ku.” He even introduced himself with a villainous laugh. This one truly understood the aesthetics of his role in all of this.

”I get the feeling this guy's a bad match up for you Knightfall. Why don't I take this one and you take the stairs?”

”As if I'll let you.” The Manager reached out his hand to extend his power outward only to instantly be shut down by Boxer's air pressure punch. Instead, he had to pull a printer machine in between to absorb the blow.

”Your power is manipulating the electromagnetic spectrum. Unfortunately for you, I can see it.” Indeed this was true. All of the things that swirled around him were made of or held magnetic metals. Knightfall's armor was a liability against this man while Boxer couldn't be manipulated since his material was made of carbon nanofiber. ”Try not to take all of that glory for yourself up there, Knightfall.” And with that Boxer began a continuous barrage of air punches while he moved away from the stairs to keep the attention clear. Knightfall was free to advance to the next obstacle.

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Re: 11377 Possession (Group/Closed)

Post by Khyvas on Wed Dec 05, 2018 9:11 am

"It's New York, even the kids curse, we'll be fine" Khyvas thought to himself after dealing with the surprise attack, following Boxer into the elevator.

The ride up was going smoothly until the elevator suddenly screeched to a halt at one of the floors, unusual to say the least, made more so when Boxer decided to chime how the event made sense, and as the car begain to collapse in on itself, the younger hero took no time to waste as he "knocked first" and bashed the doors open, with Khyvas following close behind as to not die by falling twenty floors in a screaming metal heap.

"What the hell- Oh."

It made sense now; before them stood a man who had a hilariously cliche villain laugh and had a helix of metal items floating and spinning in the air around him. "Let me guess," Khyvas began, "He's using magnetism to make those do that, and you can see it because of your eyes, right? Yea, you got this one, I'll head on up ahead, don't let this idiot beat you, hermano. See you at the top." He said before departing, heading for the stairs.

As he reached them, Khyvas simply looked up and said to aloud to himself "While I'm basically a super soldier, no damn way in hell am I climbing all these stairs." And proceeded to pull out a grapple launcher from his utility belt, and took aim upwards as far as the launcher would reach. "And here, we, go!" He yelled as he fired away, leaving a stark second before an audible "plunk" could be head, and soon enough Khyvas was ziplining his way up to the 30th floor, where he would have to pause and take aim yet again, and repeat the process until reaching the top, hopefully unhindered and not being caught offguard by any new threats appearing in the stairwell...

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Re: 11377 Possession (Group/Closed)

Post by Boxer on Wed Dec 19, 2018 2:07 pm

With a loud cry Boxer threw another punch, obliterating a computer box that was thrown at him by the Office Manager's ferrokinetic Quirk. In rapid succession the hero unleashed a barrage of of attacks that obliterated all of the incoming office supplies. It was an impressive display of raw power, agility, and accuracy until a single stapler made it through the boy hero's defense. With a harsh thud the office supply shattered on contact. A rough ninety miles per hour applied directly and surely. A “ku ku ku” of a laugh came from in the Office Manager's throat, pleased that he had drawn first blood. Boxer stood for a moment... unamused.

”Ok, this is boring.” The hero shockingly revealed as he lowered his guard completely and began walking forward. With all of his might the villain thrust his hand forward and with it a torrent of objects. Staplers, monitors, chairs. They all twisted to his will and collided with the approaching rainbow. All of it! Everything he had! All of it to just bounce off of the hero's body as he approached with unflinching casual speed.

”Why why why?! Go down!” With a hurl of his arm the villain launched a desk only for it to be casually swiped away.

”I throw punches that have about sixteen thousand pounds of force so naturally my body can withstand at least that much force. Your objects are hitting my with an average of eight thousand pounds of force. In short, I'm twice as strong as you. You can't generate the power to hurt me.” Now face to face with his villain, Boxer readied himself for one of the weakest punches he had thrown in a long time. With no resistance from the manager, the hero slammed his fist directly into the soft diaphragm of his target. The man lost all of the air in his body and dropped to the ground.

”I'm off. Be sure to turn yourself in when the cops get here.” The hubris of a hero that has already decided he is victorious is a dangerous thing. It gets many hero's killed. If Miasma were there watching he would surely scold Boxer and find this next bit to a heaping helping of just desserts. With his back turned to the fallen villain, the boy hero heard an inhaler of aerosol go off. His eyes winced in pain as he already knew what was coming. The Office Manager's glasses fell to the floor and his otherwise kept hair went wild. His tongue hung out as he clambered back to his feet. Black as night while Boxer turned around with eyebrows twisted in concern.

”No you can call me the Janitor, cause I'm taking out the trash!” The villain ripped off his tie with a single pull and shook the entire building with his now enhanced powers.

”Your one liner's suck.” Boxer called out as he assumed his fighting stance. With a flick of the Janitor's angered fingers, a steel bar erupted from the floor and slammed Boxer's own fists into his face. The boy winced in stunned pain as the force was significantly greater than what was previously generated. He shook it off; no time to recover though. Writhing fingers pulled rebar from the concrete structure of the building and used to twist and bind the boy's arms. No room for momentum to punch. With all his might the boy attempted to fight back but it was all for nothing as he was lifted and hurled into an elevator. On his feet and with gritted teeth, the hero ran for the door but the entire room was twisted into a skin tight coffin.

”Good bye hero!” The Janitor flicked his wrist and sent the entire box hurdling up the elevator shaft with such force that it crashed through the ceiling and landed on the roof. Boxer was left inside with more than just his pride being injured.

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Re: 11377 Possession (Group/Closed)

Post by Rhapsody on Sun Dec 23, 2018 7:03 pm

He knew he shouldn't have expected the roof to be totally unguarded. Which was why he didn't. When he cracked open the door, he peeked around through the crack to see if there had been any guards on the other side to make sure someone didn't get in from the roof. Unlikely as an unexpected roof insertion might be, it was still something that this particular group of criminals thought about. It wasn't a heavy guard. One guy by the door, and then the pilot next to his vehicle, waiting to go. Smoking, but still waiting with a stance that Douglas chose to interpret as apprehensive. Maybe someone already facing off against the heroes said something more than Jacob had managed. A bit of a snag, but nothing that Douglas would be overwhelmed by.

The door guard was unlucky enough, or lacking enough in foresight to be on the side of the door where it opened wide. True, this meant he would have the best angle on Douglas as the wannabe ninja swung the door open enough to unleash the smoke he still had around him. It also meant Douglas had the best angle on him. Knowing where the man's jaw was located before the world went black meant he didn't have to worry about his bullets. And using the hilt of his knife meant that first strike would hit with all the force needed without the same runaround he'd given the first door guard. The pilot was still active though.

Douglas pulled the guard and the smoke back in on his side of the door and waited for a few moments. His attack was, by design, completely silent. The smoke kept any yells or sounds of impact from being heard as well as obscuring a falling body. If the pilot was looking this way, then at most he would see the door crack open, a lot of smoke, and then moments later when it seemed to clear, no door guard and a still open door. If his quirk was weak or not at all suited to combat and he didn't have a gun, Douglas hoped this would be enough to spook him. If he had a strong quirk or a gun, then Douglas could only pray he had been turned away at the time. The door was steel, but so long as he was on this side of the door and the helicopter was on the other side, he'd be at an impasse.

"Not my day either." he said under his breath. Any day wasn't his day really. His quirk was best suited for already dim and enclosed environments. Why he was entrusted to take out something in the most open part of the structure in broad daylight was beyond him. All he could do was wait. And wait. And wait. And then there it was. A crunch of rubber on dusty concrete. The man was coming to investigate. Which meant he couldn't have seen anythi-

"No, I saw everything. Or rather, I saw the cloud."

Douglas froze. Not a muscle. Not even to breathe. Even his heart felt like it had stopped. It had to be a bluff. A ploy. Something to make him play his hand so that-

"No bluffs. No ploys. Also not that strong. I can skim the surface, but anything deeper than that and I might as well be trying to watch a lifetime on eight times fast forward. Sometimes good for interrogations though. Like if I ask for your name then you'll think of it. Cool huh, Miasma. . ." Silence for a few moments. "Nope, that's all I got. Ok. I shouldn't have said so much, you're right there. Decent her- No, not a hero. Anyhow, how about you come out. Now that both the meatheads are down, ironically you don't have a smokescreen for your thoughts."

Douglas let out a slow breath and stood, then pushed open the door. Mind reader. Rare, but really annoying.

"Yeah, tell me about it. Multiple people around force me to dull that sense. If I try to focus on one person, it just gives me a headache. Yes, I am confident you'll be going nowhere with this information."

They both knew he was going to dodge when Douglas swung. A twitch at his side, a twitch at the man's. Douglas hated his face on principle for being a mind reader. Big smile, white teeth, even tan that was probably fake, perfectly quaffed black hair. He wanted to hit it, but each shift was countered by one from the man. He saw every punch, kick, slash, and grab in his mind. But he also saw every counter that the mind reader came up with as soon as he envisioned such a thing. Not in his mind of course, but he recognized the preparations to engage. He'd spent enough days sparring with professionals for it.

"Give it up. Even if you use your quirk-" He was cut off by another mental swing from Douglas. He even flinched a bit more than neccessary. Douglas had been particularly visceral in that action. And that was his key. As soon as he saw it, he knew. And the mind reader knew that he knew. They still stood only a few feet from each other, but now Douglas was the one grinning. Each swing of his was coming faster after the last in his head. The results of the mind reader's potential failure becoming more gruesome. He still had that knife in hand. The mind reader had ceded his advantage of having a side arm when he got so close. So sure of his own superiority in knowing what Douglas would do before he did it. Without catching Douglas in action, he couldn't bring the gun to bear without exposing himself.

What's more, while the mind reader clearly had enough hand to hand experience to know how to counter any individual strike, he didn't have enough to cleanly counter when Douglas started layering blows. Two potential strikes he could throw from his position thought of at once. Then another two. Then three. Layers upon layers, as many considered at once in as quick of a sequence as he could manage. A part of his training he'd hated the most, finally coming in handy. Now it was his turn to taunt. "Give it-"

And then the elevator crashed through the roof. The mind reader looked. Douglas did not think. Only acted. Forward. Gun grab. Turn into body. Stomp foot. Twist gun. Throw. Turn on stomped foot. High heel kick to the jaw.

Then he allowed himself to think. Particularly about why the elevator was on the roof. It was kind of useful because it sent the helicopter sideways with the rupturing of the concrete, but as his eyes scanned the contents, he swore. Douglas pulled a canister from his belt and tossed it over to the open shaft after pulling the trigger. The expelled smoke he formed into a cloud around the hole while he tried to dig his ally out of the twisted metal heap. "Please tell me they got the drop on you."

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Rhapsody

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Re: 11377 Possession (Group/Closed)

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